Episode 92: Death or Taxes, aka Don’t Piss Off Umako

August 16, 2023 Joshua Badgley

Clay boar, trussed up and headed to the dinner table, most likely. Originally from the 5th century, but relevant to our current narrative. Photo by author, taken at the Metropolitan Museum in New York City.

This episode we continue wit hthe story of the late 6th century as Prince Hasebe takes the throne after the turbulent events of the previous episode, but will he stay there? Is everything really settled now that the Mononobe have been defeated?

Soga no Umako

Son of Soga no Iname. He is mentioned as Ōmi and Sukune, like his father, although when, exactly, he inherited both is not entirely clear. The Nihon Shoki claims he received the title shortly after the death of his father, in the following reign, but we’ve seen how those first appointments are always accurate reflections of history, as sometimes they mention appointments to Ōmi or Ōmuraji that clearly happened later in the reign.

Soga no Umako also tried to bring Buddhism to Japan. He found images and experts and had nuns ordained to worship at a temple, with a pagoda, which he once again had built on his family’s property. Once again, the Mononobe and Nakatomi opposed it and had the temple destroyed and the nuns punished. In the chaos of the late 6th century, Soga no Umako was the uncle to several powerful royal princes, as well as the Queen, Kashikiya Hime. This put him in a unique position during everything that would happen.

Kashikiya Hime

A royal princess, daughter of Kitashi Hime and graddaughter of Soga no Iname, she was the wife of Nunakura Futodamashiki, made his second Queen after Hiro Hime passed away, and she succeeded him. According to the Nihon Shoki, she was likely born about 553, which would have made her about 32 when Nunakura died, though another source suggests she was 34. Another record suggests she was 18 when she was made the Queen of Nunakura, although that may have just been when they got married, and not when she was formally made Queen.

She had a country home in Iware, between modern Kashihara and Sakurai, in the southeastern corner of the Nara basin.

Prince Umayado

Aka Shōtoku Taishi, also known as Prince Kamitsumiya, based on his early residence. There are many stories about this legendary figure, and it is often assumed that as Shōtoku Taishi he is more of a conflation of several individuals. Still, there may have been an actual Prince Umayado, and if we can, we will attempt to see what might be fact, and what is likely fiction, as the cult of Shōtoku would go on to become one of the largest in Buddhist Japan, with many temples claiming some connection to him. We already saw in the last episode how he was portrayed as a sage from an early age—some stories even claim that he was born with a relic of the Buddha in his hands. He will play a much larger part in our later stories.

Prince Hasebe no Miko

Hasebe (or Hatsusebe) is initially something of a background character, though there is some evidence he supported his brother in his dealings, at least initially. However, he’s now been raised up as the next sovereign so what will his reign look like?

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 92: Death or Taxes, aka Don’t Piss Off Umako.
Before we get going, a quick recap: we are still in the late 6th century, and since the death of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou, things have been a bit crazy. The number of apparently legitimate heirs was rather impressive. There were the various siblings of Nunakura, both full and half-siblings, and there were his children and his siblings’ children. On top of that, there were some truly tense politics amongst some of the most powerful families in the realm, particularly the ancient Mononobe and the more recent Soga family, who had tied themselves so closely with the royal family through marriage that at this point just about every possible heir to the throne was in some way a Soga descendant. The stories of this era have been filled with stories of death, war, and struggles for the throne. Finally, there is the tension between Buddhism, which was first introduced in the early 6th century, and the established worship of the various kami, which also speaks to the tensions between various sources of spiritual political authority.
As we discussed int the last two episodes, when Nunakura passed away, Prince Anahobe tried to take the throne, and he was initially thwarted by Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe, aka Sakahe no Kimi. Anahobe, possibly with the assistance of his brother, Prince Hasebe, as well as Mononobe no Ohomuraji no Moriya, killed Sakahe no Kimi, pissing off Nunakura’s former Queen, Kashikiya Hime. Next, Nakatomi no Muraji no Katsumi, in support of Mononobe no Moriya, attempted to curse several of the candidates with stronger claims on the throne, and when that didn’t work, he just out and out killed Crown Prince Hikobito, getting offed himself in the process. Throughout all of this, another prince, Tachibana no Toyohi, apparently ascended, briefly, but seems to have died of natural causes. In the process, however, he provided legitimacy for his own children as Royal Princes and Princesses to also contest for the throne.
Moriya’s support of Anahobe led to the death of Prince Anahobe, Prince Yakabe, and Moriya and his family—and many of his supporters, as well. And yet, despite the loss of the Mononobe and Prince Anahobe, the next heir to the throne, with the approval of Queen Kashikiya Hime, was none other than Prince Hatsusebe, aka Hasebe, a full brother to the rebel Prince Anahobe and the focus of this episode. If this all seems a bit confusing regarding the individuals and different factions, then congratulations, you’ve been paying attention. The narrative certainly seems to be missing some key information, likely lost in the attempt to either whitewash some of the more contentious historical records, or simply due to the Chroniclers’ attempts to create a more straightforward narrative out of a complex era which probably saw various courts competing to be recognized as the court that was actually making the decisions—something that doesn’t exactly fit in with the attempt to tell the story of a relatively unbroken royal line.
And yet, despite the chaos, we do see a solidification of power and control in general, as evidenced by the shift in late 6th century tomb structures. As I may have mentioned in previous episodes, the Yamato area continued to build monumental round keyhole shaped tombs, but that shape of tomb simultaneously declined in nearby regions, which saw more round or square shaped—or even square keyhole shaped—tombs instead. On the other hand, at the periphery, at the farthest reaches of the archipelago, we continue to see round keyhole shaped tombs in the Yamato style.
This is all likely due to a consolidation of Yamato’s power and authority. Previously we had seen that start with the proliferation of the Yamato style tomb, but even from early times those round keyhole tombs were interspersed with other, typically smaller tombs. The general assumption, based on the size, grave goods, and other archaeological features, is that the round keyhole tomb, at least in a Yamato context, was reserved for the Yamato royal family and only those of the most elite status. In the Yamato and Kawachi regions, this seems to have held true, but further afield, local magnates adopted the round keyhole tombs for themselves, perhaps even appropriating some of the prestige of that tomb shape for themselves. Similarly, it is very likely that Yamato did not have the power to stop local rulers from building whatever the heck they wanted, despite the impression given by the Chroniclers that all was hunky-dory as soon as Mimaki Iribiko and Ikume Iribiko sent out people to subdue the four corners of the archipelago.
Whether because of an increased military might, or because of a cultural change in accepting Yamato’s leadership, more and more lands seem to have been more directly under Yamato’s sway, following their customs and accepting their position in the Yamato hierarchy. To put it another way: in many parts of the archipelago, particularly those closer to Yamato, we do not see continued claims of “kingship” by the local elite. They have accepted a lower status in the evolving hierarchy, presumably gaining some security and access to resources of the entire Yamato polity in the process, though that isn’t entirely clear to me based purely on the archaeological evidence. But according to our tomb theory, those on the periphery, where Yamato’s control remained the weakest, continued to build their own round keyhole tombs, indicating they still considered themselves somewhat independent, even as they remained influenced by Yamato’s overall cultural affectations.
Into this world, Prince Hasebe ascended the throne. Prince Hasebe was another half-brother to Nunakura Futodamashiki. Like his full brother, Prince Anahobe Hasetsukabe, he was a Soga descendant through the maternal line. We are told that his ascension was endorsed by Kashikiya Hime, his half-sister, and another Soga-descended royal. He assumed the throne almost immediately following the turmoil that resulted in Anahobe’s death and the destruction of Mononobe no Moriya. This was in 587, and for the next five years, the reign appeared to be similar to any other, but I suspect that things hadn’t quite settled, yet. How could they? It seems clear that it was way too easy for political violence to break out, and despite the Chronicles’ insistence that everything was fine, many of the systemic issues that led to the violence in the first place were still there.
To start with, you still had all of those potential heirs to the throne, and no clear succession tradition or precedence. On top of that, each household, while created to serve the Court, had grown into its own political entity, vying for their own level of power and control. No doubt some of this was exacerbated as Yamato’s influence grew, bringing more people directly under Yamato’s authority.
I also can’t help but notice that there appears to be a lack of any kind of clear justice system. In fact, laws in general at this time appear to be based on precedent and tradition, likely oral tradition: although we have writing, we don’t have a written system of laws just yet. We have artifacts with writing on them. We also have records of books coming over from the continent, which presumably people were able to read. However, what was writing being used for? It appears to have been used for communication—for example, diplomatic missions, or to send instructions and receive information back from the various lands under Yamato’s rule. David Lurie notes that this was a kind of practical writing, and it wasn’t the same as the kind of extensive journaling that we would see later.
It makes sense that much of the laws and traditions at this time were probably based on memorized precedent. Groups like the Kataribe were organized around an oral tradition, and even the Kojiki was based on a tradition of oral recitation that was still in place by the late 7th century. I suspect that different families maintained their own memories of precedence and tradition, collectively advising on what should be done in any given situation.
This isn’t exactly the kind of legal system with firm and fast rules, with everyone equal under the law, and some sort of immutable code. That wasn’t solely because it wasn’t written down, mind you—there are plenty of cultures with oral traditions that maintain very clear sets of laws. However, in this case it was not written down and given what we see and what we know about later court, legal precedent was kept in the memories of various individuals in different families, all of whom were competing for their place in the hierarchical structure that had been created. Therefore, as long as you could get enough people on your side, then you determined what was just and what was not. And of course it was the winners who wrote—or at least remembered—the history. Strong leadership may have been able to keep things stable, but during any change things could get messy, as we’ve seen time and again. And had Anahobe and the Mononobe been triumphant we’d likely be reading a very different telling of events.
Hasebe’s ascension didn’t really change any of that, other than the person at the head of the system. Still, things seemed to hold together alright, and with the recent purges, hopefully things would settle out after a while.
The reign started with the standard ceremonies. Soga no Umako was confirmed as Oho-omi, and though other “Ministers and Daibu”, or high officials, were confirmed, nobody else is named. Hasebe’s palace was set up at Kurahashi, presumably in the hills south of modern Sakurai. His wife was Koteko, daughter of Ohotomo no Nukade.
In his first year, Baekje sent envoys that included Buddhist priests and relics, along with various Buddhist artisans. We’ll probably touch on them more at a later date, but for now I’ll note that with their coming, Soga no Umako consulted with them on several matters regarding Buddhism, and then he went ahead and pulled down the house of a man named Konoha and started work on another temple. This one was known as Hokoji, though it is more popularly known to us by its common name: Asukadera.
Asukadera is perhaps the oldest purpose-built Buddhist temple commissioned by the state, and I think we can do an entire episode just on that temple alone. The Chronicles make out that it was built to commemorate the supernatural support granted to Umako in his battle against Mononobe no Moriya, though it is impossible to know for certain how much of that is true. What we can say is that this time there were no dissenting voices from the Mononobe nor the Nakatomi, and Asukadera would become one of the major temples of the Asuka period. Later, when the capital was built up at Heijo-kyo, in modern Nara, the temple was moved to the new capital, and the complex in Asuka dwindled in importance. Today you can still visit a temple at the site of Asukadera, but it is a shell of its former self, having been rebuilt on a much smaller footprint than before. You can, however, go and see the original Buddha statue—or at least the reconstructed form of it, as the original icon was severely damaged in a fire at one point.
But building up a proper temple and pagoda in the continental fashion would all take time—for now it appears that they were just breaking ground on a new construction, rather than just repurposing a part of an existing house into the temple, as they had seemingly done in the past. This was going to take some time.
At the same time, it wasn’t just buildings that were needed, and we are told that several Buddhists returned to Baekje along with the envoys. We are told that they were going to Baekje to gain further instruction in Buddhist teachings. This was the nun Zenshin, daughter of Shiba Tattou, and her companions, who had been ordained at the order of Soga no Umako to help staff his first attempt at building a worship site at his house.
The following year, in 589, we are told that there were three “inspections” that were sent out along the various circuits, or roadways, of eastern Honshu. These circuits were regions of Japan, and come from a continental tradition that would be formalized in the law codes of the early 7th century. Generally speaking there are usually 7 circuits—8 once Hokkaidou comes into the picture—and then the capital region, often known as the home territories around Yamato and the Nara basin. Kyushu and Shikoku were each covered by their own circuits: The Saikaidou, or Western Sea Circuit, covered all of Kyushu, and eventually the Ryukyu islands as well, while the Nankaidou, or Southern Sea circuit covered from the south of the Kii peninsula and the island of Shikoku. Western Honshu was covered by another two circuits—there was the San’indou, the Mountain Yin Circuit, and the San’yodou, the Mountain Yang Circuit. Yin being related to the dark and the north, the San’indou covered the areas to the north of the Western mountain range along the Japan Sea coast, from the land of Tanba west to Iwami, including the lands of Inaba and Izumo. In contrast, Yang was related to the south, and so the San’yodou covered the regions from Harima, next to the land of Settsu, part of modern Ohosaka, and stretched along the southern side of the mountains to the Seto Inland sea to the western land of Nagato, part of modern Yamaguchi Prefecture, and included the ancient land of Kibi.
Finally, there were the three circuits of Eastern Honshu, which were the subject of the Chronicles entry in 589. First off was the Tousando, or the Eastern Mountain Circuit. Whereas western Honshu can be largely divided by the mountains into a northern and southern region, eastern Honshu was a little different, as the Japanese alps created difficulties that meant that the Tousandou covered the inland regions, starting at Afumi, around lake Biwa, out to Kenu—modern Gunma and Tochigi prefectures, north of Tokyo. It would eventually include the distant regions of Dewa and Mutsu, which covered much of the Tohoku region up to Hokkaido, although those were still largely outside of the area of Yamato influence, and home to those that the Yamato court called Emishi. The man sent to inspect this region was named Afumi no Omi no Kamafu—fitting given that Afumi was at the western end of the circuit.
Next they sent Shishibito no Omi no Kari to inspect the Toukaidou, or Eastern Sea circuit. This circuit proceeded from Iga, Ise, and Owari, eastward along the Pacific coast to Hitachi, in modern Ibaraki prefecture. It includes much of modern Tokyo, and is likely one of the more well known, if only for things like the JR Tokaido line. This route became well traveled in the Edo period both for the daimyo processions of the sankin-kotai as well as the pilgrimages from Edo to Ise, and onward to points even further west.
Finally, we have a member of the Abe no Omi heading out to inspect the Hokurikudou, the Northern Land Circuit. This was largely the area known in the Chronicles as Koshi, along the Japan Sea Coast. The Abe family may have had some influence in that region, though it is said that they originally came from the land of Iga, just east of Yamato. However, we aren’t given a specific individual’s name—Abe no Omi is just the family name and their kabane rank, and could indicate any member of the Abe family. This may have to do with the actions of Abe no Hirafu in the late 7th century, but at this point in the story it is unclear. We are provided the given names of the other inspectors, however—Kamafu and Kari—so it stands out that we have nothing for the inspector of the Hokurikudou other than their family name.
Other than the mention of the circuits, and the inspections that the court was conducting, this seems to be a fairly mundane entry—though it does link to some later events. Still, it provides a little more evidence for the expansion of Yamato’s direct control. The idea that there were court inspectors checking up on these territorial circuits suggests that they were a somewhat active part of the bureaucracy of the court. Previously the court had set up the Miyake, or royal granaries, which were extensions of royal authority in various areas. Now we see an additional layer of government that would have been going through the areas and making sure that things were being administered as Yamato believed. It also suggests that there were those in these circuits who were beholden to Yamato in that they were required to produce some kind of evidence for what they were up to.
The year after, in 590, the big news was apparently the return to Japan of Zenshin and others, and we are told that they took up residence at a temple in Sakurai – very possibly a reference to Hokoji or Asukadera, the newly-founded temple we just discussed. Asuka is outside of the modern bounds of Sakurai city, but at this time the name Sakurai may have referred to a slightly larger and more nebulous area. On the other hand, they could have settled at another temple in the area that just wasn’t part of the state funded program. In that same vein, later in 590 we are told that people went up into the hills to get timber for building Buddhist temples, and many more people, most of them with connections to the mainland, and especially the Korean peninsula, were ordained. Buddhism was starting to grow more popular and it was being better patronized by the elites, and soon we will start to see more and more temples popping up.
In 591, we see the final burial of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou. This was now many years since his death, but that isn’t entirely surprising given the fighting and general turmoil that followed his death. Building a tomb mound was not exactly a simple feat, and if one wasn’t already prepared by the time he passed away, then it would have taken a while to prepare it—and even more time if much of your labor force was being split and repurposed in the fights for the throne. As you may recall, Nunakura died of a disease, so it is unlikely that there had been a lot of preparation for his death, so we can assume that his body, after resting in the palace of temporary interment for a while, was eventually given a temporary burial and then they likely were reburying the bones several years later. This isn’t exactly unheard of, but it does seem that this was an exceptionally long period between death and final burial.
The location of his tomb is said to be on the western side of the mountains, outside of the Nara Basin, in the area of modern Taishi, in the south of Ohosaka. This seems to have been a new region for royal burials, from what I can tell, but there would be several important Asuka era burials located in this region.
Later in that same year, Hasebe and the court indulged themselves in something that was becoming almost a tradition: Wondering aloud if they should go marching over to the peninsula and re-establish Nimna. There’s apparently no thought the fact that Nimna had not been a going concern for quite some time now, and this may have just been the popular casus belli of the Yamato court. Of course, all of the ministers were for it, agreeing that it would be just the best if they could go over there and get Nimna started again.
And so they set in motion the necessary work of gathering an army. This wasn’t a simple task and would take quite some time to get the word out, gather men together, and then have them all meet down in Tsukushi at the court’s outpost down there. Not only that, but there would need to be boats made, and armor and weapons would have to be ready. This was quite the undertaking. We are told that they eventually gathered over 20,000 men, though that could easily be an exaggeration.
They named five generals, or Taishogun. This is different from the “Shogun” of later years—the Sei-I Taishogun, or General for Subduing Barbarians. This is just the title of general, Taishogun, and there were apparently five people who were running things—possibly referring to five different forces that were going to go over, or it may have been a political thing to ensure that people of rank were given opportunities. It is interesting to see the names, as we have heard some of the family names, at least, before.
The five generals were: Ki no Womaro no Sukune, Kose no Omi no Hirafu, Kashiwade no Omi no Katafu, Ohotomo no Kuhi no Muraji, and Katsuraki no Wonara no Omi. Then various other Omi and Muraji level individuals were placed in charge below them. They were all stationed in Tsukushi and two men, Kishi no Kana and Kishi no Itahiko were sent to Silla and Nimna respectively, presumably to try to work something out before things got ugly.
That was all listed in the 11th month of 591, and preparations were still ongoing by the time of the next entry, in the 10th month of 592.
So remember how I mentioned at the top of the episode about how many of the systemic issues that had led to so much war and bloodshed were still a thing? Yeah—despite the seemingly rosy and downright mundane picture of the last five years, things were apparently not quite as stable as they may have appeared. And I say that because of what happened in the 10th month of 592.
We are told that this was the winter, possibly around late November or December according to our modern calendar—trying to map ancient lunar calendar dates to modern solar dates are a whole thing, trust me. Anyway, it was during this season that someone brought in a wild boar and presented it to the sovereign. And there was nothing too sus going on there—it wasn’t a white boar or some kind of unusually large animal. No, what was remarkable wasn’t the presentation at all, but what it kicked off, because apparently Hasebe looked at the boar and made an off-hand comment, which Aston translates as: “When shall those to whom We have an aversion be cut off as this wild boar’s throat has been cut.”
Just in case you didn’t get the allusion, he was basically wondering when those people whom he didn’t like would be killed—though possibly he meant cut off in another sense, I think it is pretty clear that he wanted some people taken care of, if you know what I mean.
I would liken it to a phrase attributed to King Henry II of England, who is said to have wondered aloud, “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest”, which led to several men heading out and eventually killing Thomas Becket, the then Archbishop of Canterbury. While Henry may not have actually ordered the killing of Thomas Becket, with whom he’d been in something of a power struggle, his words certainly ended up being the catalyst that led to the archbishop’s eventual demise.
Similarly here, that certainly seems to have been the intent, or at least that is how it was taken. Word of the sovereign’s outburst made it back to none other than Soga no Umako, the Oho-omi himself, who grew more than a little bit worried. It didn’t help that word was also coming that the royal household was apparently stockpiling weapons—more than usual.
Soga no Umako came to believe that Hasebe was talking about him, and though there wasn’t a particular reason given, it suggests that there were some things going on below the surface detailed by the Chronicles, and we can speculate on a few of them.
First off, Hasebe had not been the first choice for sovereign, and he didn’t really enter the picture until after the death of his brother, Prince Anahobe. Anahobe had, of course, believed that he should take the throne himself, but then he was killed. It is possible that Hasebe was appointed sovereign to appease some of Anahobe’s supporters against the wishes of those such as Soga no Umako.
Second, it is clear that Umako was immensely influential and powerful, and he probably had more influence than the sovereign himself. Always remember that if someone raises an army and helps put you on the throne, rather than themselves, they usually have the ability to do the same thing in reverse. Or, as so many parents are fond of saying: I brought you into this world, I can take you out! So it may be that Hasebe felt threatened by Umako’s own power and felt he needed to be dealt with before Soga no Umako decided that he’d rather have someone more pliable on the throne. Of course, in another time it might have been enough to just demote him, but it is unclear if Hasebe actually had the power to do that—and if he did, would it stick.
There is also another option as well—Hasebe may not have said anything at all, and it is possible that this was a story concocted to explain Umako’s own reaction. This is hinted at, somewhat, in another account that basically comes in once again with the tired “blame the woman” trope. It suggests that Ohotomo no Koteko, Hasebe’s consort and the mother to his two children, started the whole thing as a rumor. According to this account, she was “declining in favor”—although it is unclear just whom else she was competing against. If that record is correct, she was the one who told Umako about what Hasebe was purportedly saying, knowing that it would cause problems for her husband because she was unhappy with him. Even if that were true, we don’t know whether or not Hasebe actually said what is attributed to him.
Again, regardless of what Hasebe actually said, all of this suggests that things were not as solid and stable as they might otherwise appear to be, and suggests just how literally cut-throat the politics of the Yamato court could get.
And so, Soga no Umako took this threat quite seriously, and he engaged the services of one Yamato no Aya no Atahe no Koma.
We don’t know much about Koma. The Yamato no Aya were one of several Aya families, and their name suggests that they were descended, at least in part, from ethnic Han Chinese weavers—or at least traced their lineage back to the continent with claims to the Han dynasty, just as the Hata family claimed ties back to the Qin dynasty. They had been in Japan for generations, but are still often associated with various technologies that came over from the continent.
There is also a record, we are told, that says Koma’s father was Yamato no Aya no Iwai—whose name is suspiciously similar to that of the Iwai in Tsukushi, or Kyushu, who had allied with Silla and tried to block trade and military support between Yamato and Baekje. It is possible, and even probable, that this was just a coincidence—after all, why would the son of a rebel who had so aggravated Yamato be in the court at all? But it was considered significant enough for the Chroniclers to mention it at the same time, and that may be because of the relationship back to that other rebel.
Now, for Koma to take action, he and Umako would need to act quickly. Soga no Umako sent a message to the court ministers and claimed that he was sending someone to present the taxes of the Eastern provinces. As you may recall from earlier in this episode, a few years earlier inspectors had been sent out along the three eastern circuits. It would have taken them time to survey, compile their information, and collect any taxes owed, and bring that back to the court. Umako lied to the other ministers and said that the taxes were ready, and he was sending someone to the sovereign to present the taxes.
Of course, he was really sending Yamato no Aya no Koma, and in lieu of taxes he brought death—somewhat fitting if you think about it. Koma killed the sovereign and then, somehow, made his escape. Unlike some of the other killings we aren’t given too many details of the deed itself.
What we are given is the aftermath. For later in that same month, Soga no Umako had Koma himself killed. And this is where I find it really weird, or perhaps the Chroniclers were just in denial. They claimed that Soga no Umako had learned that Koma had been having a clandestine relationship with Kawakami no Iratsume, herself a consort of the sovereign and Soga no Umako’s own daughter. Koma had apparently taken her back to his place to live and made her his wife in secret—basically saying that they had carnal relations together as man and wife, though it is not clear whether or not they were consensual. Umako thought that his daughter was dead, but when he learned that Yamato no Aya no Koma had taken her, he had Koma killed.
And that just all seems so very convenient. So Soga no Umako has enough influence over Koma to get him to assassinate the sovereign, but somehow misses that his co-conspirator in this has eloped with his daughter, and then kills him out of apparently justified rage? Uh-huh. Nothing fishy about that at all.
I suspect that what happened at the time versus what was later recorded differed slightly. Assuming that most of it was accurate, I wouldn’t be surprised if Umako got Koma to do the dirty deed, and then offed him, possibly so that he would not be immediately implicated. Even so, what were the laws around such events? With Hasebe gone, and nobody else in power to challenge him, Soga no Umako was one of the most powerful people around. He just didn’t have the parental qualifications to take the throne himself.
And that is probably what saved him from being labeled a rebel, himself. After all, you don’t get much more rebellious than killing the king. But is it rebellion when it is self-defense? Here is where the lack of a strict law code likely came down on the side of Soga no Umako, because despite his involvement, nobody seems to have gone after him or taken him to task. In fact, he would remain a powerful figure in the Yamato court for years to come.
There are also several figures who seem to have remained absent from all of this, but it would be interesting to know where they came down. The first was Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi. Did he sanction or even take part in this plot? Umayado was still somewhat young, so he may not have had much to say at this point.
Then there was Kashikiya Hime, Nunakura’s queen. Presumably, she had been the one to recommend Hasebe to the throne, but we also see her hand in the decision to punish Anahobe and the Mononobe, which we discussed over the last couple of episodes. She is often kept at arms length in the narrative, however, which may be because of what the Chroniclers already knew. With the court once more in need of an heir they searched high and low, and the assembled ministers finally settled on the candidate they thought would be the best of all of them: Kashikiya Hime herself. It makes sense: Kashikiya Hime, who is known today as Suiko Tennou, clearly knew how the court operated. She had sanctioned, if not outright directed, the deaths of Anahobe and Mononobe no Moriya.
On the other hand, the patriarchal society of the day—and even that of modern day scholars—questioned her fitness for the job. Many have pointed to the strongman tactics of Soga no Umako, as well as the focus on Prince Umayado, whom she made her Crown Prince and whom, we are told, assisted in all areas of government. In fact, it often seems as though Umayado and Umako are the ones actually running things, with Kashikiya Hime as a puppet. On the other hand, perhaps there was something even more complex—a conspiracy between Umako, Umayado, and Kashikiya Hime. She may have also been something of a compromise candidate, someone that all of the different factions could get behind.
We’ll explore all of that and more as we get into her reign in the coming episodes, along with the role played by Prince Umayado. We’ll also look more in depth at the spread of Buddhism, and the temple building that would pick up shortly after Kashikiya Hime came to power.
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.
And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

Hirabayashi, Akihito. (2022). 蘇我氏の研究普及版. 日本古代氏族研究叢書⑤. 雄山閣. ISBN978-4-639-02863-5.
Shinokawa, Ken. (2022). 物部氏: 古代氏族の起源と盛衰. 吉川弘文館. ISBN978-4-642-05945-9.
Lurie, D. B. (17 Mar. 2020). Realms of Literacy. Leiden, The Netherlands: Harvard University Asia Center. https://doi.org/10.1163/9781684175086
Como, Michael (2008). Shōtoku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition, ISBN 978-0-19-518861-5
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

Episode 91: Things Kick Off

August 1, 2023 Joshua Badgley

Museum display of a faceless mannequin in black lacquered lamellar armor with a drawn bow.. — Reconstruction of the armor and weapons of an Asuka era warrior. The bow and arrow were a primary weapon, and we find the more elite warriors appear to be in a kind of lamellar armor similar to the continent. Photo by author, taken at the Asuka Historical Museum, in Asuka, Japan

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This episode we continue to push forward as the tensions in the court grow and burst into full on physical conflict.

Before we get into the discussion of the dramatis personae in this episode, I want to talk about something mentioned in the Nihon Shoki: leather shields.

The warriors known as the samurai rarely used shields—and when they did, these tate were often more like a pavise; a self-standing shield that an archer could stand behind and shoot from.

Who’s Who - Royal Family

Nunakura Futodamashiki no Mikoto, aka Bidatsu Tennō

The son of Ame Kunioshi—we are told he was not a Buddhist, but he did enjoy continental literature. There is some evidence that he may have even been against Buddhism’s influence, but this is speculation. Nunakura was twice descended from previous sovereigns, meaning both his mother and father were either sovereign or the immediate offspring of a previous ruler. He died of a plague in about 585.

Hiro Hime

First queen of Nunakura Futodamashiki, and daughter of Prince Okinaga no Mate—the Okinaga line seems somewhat obscure, but the name regularly shows up in relationship to the royal family, and Okinaga no Mate had also apparently provided a daughter to Nunakura’s grandfather, Wohodo, aka Keitai Tennō, although whether that could be another Okinaga no Mate. The name “Okinaga” goes back to even before Okinaga Tarashi Hime, aka Jingō Tennō, but certainly had some pull. Hiro Hime had a son named Hikobito no Ohine, the heir presumptive, but she died part way into Nunakura Futodamashiki’s reign, and never saw him come to power.

Hikobito no Ohine

A “traditional” heir, in that he was the son of his father and of a woman who was, herself, descended from a royal prince. It is unclear how old he was at the time of the events in the podcast, but we are told he was old enough to basically have his own household.

Tomi no Obito no Ichihi

Ichihi was an attendant at the residence of Hikobito no Ohine. He would go on to become a surprisingly pivotal figure in the upcoming conflict.

Who’s Who - Soga Family

The Soga family were based out of the Asuka region, south of Kashihara. They are mentioned earlier, but rose to prominence in the 6th century.

Soga no Iname

He achieved the position of Ōmi, the head of his house, and also used the personal honorific of “Sukune”. He married two of his daughters into the royal line, and is credited with building the first Buddhist temple at his house, even though it was later burned down and the image discarded.

Soga no Umako

Kashikiya Hime

She had a country home in Iware, between modern Kashihara and Sakurai, in the southeastern corner of the Nara basin.

She would eventually come to the throne herself as Suiko Tennō, and rule with the help of Umako and Prince Umayado

Prince Takeda no Miko

Son of Kashikiya Hime and Nunakura no Ohokimi, Takeda no Miko seems to have been on the short list for contenders to the throne early on.

Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yōmei Tennō

Toyohi was another child of Ame Kunioshi and Kitashi Hime, and therefore a full brother to Kashikiya Hime. His reign, however, is short, and the events during his reign are chaotic, and make it seem like there isn’t actually a sovereign on the throne at all. That may be true. While it is very likely that Kashikiya Hime might have lent her full brother her political support in ascending to the throne, it also would make sense that he was only recognized by the Chroniclers because of his offspring.

He was married to his half-sister, Princess Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Himemiko, and they had several children, including Nukade Hime and Prince Umayado.

Prince Umayado

Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko

A royal prince, he was ambitious, and wanted to assume the throne himself. Little more is said of him, and perhaps little more need be said, although he did seem to care for his family and to favor Buddhism.

Prince Yakabe no Miko

Possibly the son of Takewo Hirokunioshi, it is unclear as he isn’t listed in the genealogical accounts that I could see, and he may be yet another royal line, but our main concern is his support for Prince Anahobe no Miko.

Prince Hasebe no Miko

Hasebe (or Hatsusebe) is currently something of a background character, though there is some evidence he supported his brother in his dealings, at least initially.

Ōtomo no Hirafu no Muraj

A member of the Ōtomo family, the previously preeminent family of the court. Although their family seems to have fallen out of favor, Hirafu supported Soga no Umako and would come when asked to help.

Shiba Tattō

Who’s Who - Mononobe Family

The Mononobe trace their line back to the Heavenly Grandchild, Nigi Hayahi, as well as to numerous sovereigns. They were a “Be”, a created family, probably brought together in the 5th century, and they are one of the older families listed as a chief minister. They held the title of Muraji, which is often depicted as a rank below that of Omi, although there is plenty of evidence that these were effectively equivalent ranks, similar to how later there would be a Minister of the Left and a Minister of the Right. The head of the family was the Ōmuraji.

The traditional role of the Mononobe were as police and military enforcers for the Court.

Mononobe no Moriya

Mononobe no Moriya is depicted in the Nihon Shoki as the Ōmuraji, or head of the family, since the time of Nunakura, at least. However, there is some doubt about this, as he only as a few actual lines during Nunakura’s reign, and there is another Mononobe, Mononob no Ōichi, who may have actually beenthe Ōmuraji. However, Moriya gets all the press, good or bad, for the things that happened in the late 6th century, so the Chroniclers likely assumed that he was the Ōmuraji from much earlier.

Moriya had control of the Mononobe forces, which were not insubstantial, and helped carry out the duties of the Mononobe.

Nakatomi no Muraji no Katsumi

Katsumi is talked about largely in conjunction with Mononobe no Moriya, an apparent ally. The Nakatomi were court ritualists, so thereofere opposed Buddhism, or so we are told. Much like other things, the role of the Nakatomi may be over-emphasized due to later considerations by the Chroniclers, as one of the houses that eventually came out of the Nakatomi were the famous Fujiwara house.

Tottoribe no Yorodzu

Yorodzu was a soldier, and an expert archer, employed by Mononobe no Moriya to head up about one hundred men guarding Moriya’s Naniwa residence. He had family in Arimaka, in the Chinu district, and we know that he kept a white dog as a pet.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 91: Things Kick Off
Before we get into the episode, a shout out to our most recent supporters—Parp on Patreon, and Khonri on Ko-Fi. We really appreciate anything people can give and it helps us pay for the incidentals in hosting and keeping this going, so thank you so much. More on how you can donate at the end of this episode.
Also, quick content warning: we are talking about ancient war and violence, and that includes harm to others and self-harm. Unfortunately, the past was often a violent place.
In this episode, we are dealing with events that are happening in the late 6th century—in fact, we are dealing with a narrow, but important slice of the 6th century that is happening largely in the period after the death of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou, in 585. Tensions were high, and to say that there are some scores to be settled amongst the Yamato elite is putting it lightly. The Soga family themselves were ascendant, with two branches of the royal family descended from daughters of Soga no Iname, and Soga no Umako running the family as Ohomi, one of the top court officials in Yamato.
On the outs were the Mononobe, especially Mononobe no Moriya. As we discussed last episode, Moriya had been having a fairly successful time of it. He had defended the worship of the kami against the encroaching religion of Buddhism, and he had recently taken down Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe for insulting Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe at the Palace of Interment. But then, when Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou, asked to worship the Three Precious Things of Buddhism, himself, Moriya suddenly found himself in the minority. Moriya continued to push that same line: to avoid angering the kami by worshipping this new religion. This time, however, even Prince Anahobe was against him, bringing his half-brother a Buddhist priest so that he could pray in the Buddhist fashion.
Moriya had become a political outsider, and he retired to his home base in Ato, on the Kawachi Plain, before someone decided that he, himself, was an enemy of the state. He was egged on in this by those like Oshisakabe no Kekuso, who whispered in his ear that all of the rest of the court was against Moriya. As such, Moriya didn’t just retire—he built up an army around himself, to keep him safe should his political rivals come for him.
And it wasn’t just the Mononobe forces that came to support him—his good friend, Nakatomi no Katsumi, was there as well, bringing his own forces to help support those that Moriya had already assembled. Katsumi also brought all of the spiritual power that he apparently possessed.
Wait, what – spiritual power? Just who was Nakatomi no Katsumi, and why does he even matter for any of this? Was he really the only one who came to Moriya’s side? Or is he included because the Chroniclers knew that his family were important in the 8th century, and so they were making sure to mention Nakatomi even when they may have overlooked others? It is hard to say.
So let’s start with looking at the Nakatomi, and their relationship with the Mononobe in general.
We know that the Nakatomi were a courtly family, and they held a position as court ritualists. In later years they would be known for conducting the Ohoharae, or Great Cleansing, ritual for the court, among other things. Their name would seem to come from their courtly position—something like “Naka Tsu Omi”, or the Minister of the Middle. That said, none of the Nakatomi so far have been mentioned on the same level as the Oho-omi or the Oho-muraji. They do have the kabane of “muraji”, putting them on equal footing with the Mononobe, although that may have been picked up some time after this period, it is hard to say.
We know why the Nakatomi were so important to the Chroniclers. After all, they would go on to become a powerful court family. Later, they would go on to give birth to Nakatomi Kamatari, the progenitor of the Fujiwara family, who would go on to dominate court politics. So the Chroniclers were very invested in the Nakatomi-slash-Fujiwara story. Heck, early on, in the age of the gods, we already had figures like Ame no Koyane, the purported kami ancestor of the Nakatomi clan, who was closely involved with the Amaterasu myth cycle, particularly with the story of the Heavenly Rock Cave. That story may have been added later, of course: there are other versions in the Nihon Shoki where Koyane is not as prevalent. Also, it is possible that the ancestral connection was made at a much later date as well. Still, by the eighth century there was no real dispute about how closely the Nakatomi were tied to the court and the sovereigns.
Despite that, the current dynasty is really the first we see very much of them, as far as I can tell. There is mention of a “Naka-Omi”, earlier in the text, but the way they are described, with a separate family name, suggests that they were actually just a “Middle Minister”, possible reflecting something of the later positions of Minister of the Left, Minister of the Right, and a Minister of the Middle. Or perhaps this was the position from which the name “Nakatomi” was originally derived. It isn’t entirely clear, and there is no definitive line we can draw from that early use of the term to the present.
So, the first real appearance of the Nakatomi seems to be at this moment, in the courtly political fights over Buddhism, with the Nakatomi siding with the Mononobe against the arrival of Buddhism. Once again, this would make sense as court ritualists invested in the existing order and belief system, but also would make sense in terms of later conflicts the Nakatomi had with the Soga clan, as well. All of which leads me to wonder about just how much the Nakatomi were involved in assisting the Mononobe at all, but based purely on the narrative left to us in the Nihon Shoki, they did seem to have a significant, if somewhat minor role.
You see, as Moriya had retired and withdrawn into his familial stronghold in the Kawachi area, outside of the Nara Basin, Nakatomi no Katsumi raised forces of his own and went to support his ally. However, the aid that Katsumi offered was more than just physical: he intended to make use of his family’s role as ritual specialists, since the ability to have the kami lend aid and support apparently could work for both good or ill. And so he prepared images of Hikobito no Miko, the heir apparent, as well as Takeda no Miko, and tried to place a curse on the two of them.
And while this all feels like something out of an Onmyoji movie—something with fire, chanting, and not a few nails driven into some kind of image or effigy—the details on the ground are thin. Still, it is extremely interesting just whom Katsumi was going after, and their relationship to everything, especially given the rest of the narrative.
First, targeting Prince Takeda seems somewhat obvious. He was one of two sons of Toyomike no Kashikiya Hime and Nunakura no Ohokimi, aka Bidatsu Tennou, the last clear sovereign, based on the way succession had been seemingly working so far. With Kashikiya Hime a Soga descendant, and a niece of Soga no Umako, I can easily see why Takeda might make the hit list. It is interesting that Wohari no Miko, her other son by Nunakura, isn’t also mentioned—perhaps he had already passed away or was not considered a contender for the throne.
On the other hand Hikobito, aka Hikobito no Ohine, was the son of Nunakura and his first queen, Hirohime. That made him only the stepson of Kashikiya hime, Nunakura’s second wife. This all means that Hikobito was perhaps the last royal prince with a reasonable claim to the throne that was not actually connected by blood to the Soga family. If anything, with the Mononobe and Soga feuding, one would think that a non-Soga heir like Hikobito would actually be a good thing for Mononobe and their allies, so why was he targeted? It is possible that he was considered too close to his stepmother, given that the rest of his family had passed away. However, the most likely answer was that, as the heir apparent, he stood in the way of the Mononobe’s own personal choice to the throne—none other than Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko. Yes, despite the fact that he had supported his step brother’s request and brought in a Buddhist monk to pray for him, Anahobe still appears to have been quite close to the Mononobe, and as such they likely preferred someone like him to the unknown element of Hikobito, on whom the Chronicles have been relatively silent.
Unfortunately for Nakatomi no Katsumi, all of his chanting and ritual power appears to have been for naught. Apparently people don’t just drop dead because you ask the spirits nicely to take care of some troublesome priest. And so Katsumi decided there was nothing else for it—he would have to carry out the deed himself. And so he made his way to Hikobito’s residence in Mimata, and there he presumably slew the prince, once again opening the line of succession.
Katsumi’s heinous deed would not go unanswered, however. No doubt he was planning to hit the residence of Takeda no Miko, next, but he wouldn’t get that far. As he was exiting the mansion of Hikobito no Ohine, Katsumi was seen by one of the attendants, or Toneri, named Tomi no Obito no Ichihi, who drew out his own sword and slew Katsumi on the spot.
No doubt this threw things into chaos. Katsumi, a known ally of Mononobe no Moriya, had killed the Crown Prince, and appeared prepared to do more, had he not met his own end in the process. We are told that Moriya quickly sent a message by several trusted individuals to Soga no Umako, claiming that, as he still believed that people were out to get him, he was just staying out of everything for the time being. This promise rang hollow, however, and we are told that Soga no Umako sent his own messenger to Ohotomo no Hirafu no Muraji, letting him know everything that was going on, and apparently requesting the Ohotomo’s assistance. Next thing you know, Hirafu is showing up Umako’s place with a bow and arrows and a leather shield, and apparently setting up his role as one of the first Yojimbo, or bodyguard, sticking to Umako like Kevin Costner to Whitney Houston, though perhaps with slightly less romantic context—though you never know, and if there are people out there writing Asuka era political fanfic, well there you go, have fun with that.
Quick side note, just because it is a neat detail—this mention of a leather shield corresponds with some actual finds in tombs from around this era. While metal and even wooden shields have survived, the leather shields were not as durable, but archaeologists have found frames with remnants of paint indicating something similar. I’ll have some links on the podcast blog page for those who are interested.
All of this was happening, as Tachibana Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou, was getting worse and worse. Despite worshipping the Three Treasures of Buddhism, his disease continued to take its toll. Eventually, Kuratsukuri Be no Tasuna, a son of Shiba Tattou, who had helped Umako to build a temple during Nunakura’s reign, and even had his own daughter ordained as the first nun, offered to build a sixteen foot tall Buddha statue and a temple, and even to become a monk on Toyohi’s behalf. Alas, it was to no avail, and Toyohi found his life cancelled all too soon, like a space cowboy epic on Fox. The statue, though, along with its attendant Bodhisattvas, was still around in the 8th century at the temple of Sakata in Minabuchi, which was likely situated in the Asuka area at the time.
Whether or not Toyohi was actually a sovereign or if this is a polite fiction designed to further bolster the claims of his son, Prince Umayado, eventually known as the Crown Prince Shotoku , isn’t really clear – we discussed this possibility last episode – but according to the narrative we have, this meant that there was now a clear path to a vacant throne. Not only was Toyohi no longer occupying it, but Nakatomi no Katsumi had taken out the prince with perhaps the strongest claim to it of all of the remaining princes. Prince Takeda was still out there, as were the previous generation, including Anahobe and Hasebe. All of them were Soga descendants, but politics often makes strange bedfellows. Mononobe no Moriya, for all of his beef with Soga no Umako, was apparently close with prince Anahobe, and with the throne empty, Moriya seems to have decided that it would be nice to have a friendly face there.
As you may recall from last episode, Anahobe had already demonstrated himself to be ambitious. He had tried to take Kashikiyahime and make her his wife, no doubt to cement his own place as a contender to the throne. When Sakahe no Kimi resisted Anahobe’s attempts to force himself on her and on the court, Anahobe enlisted Moriya in having Sakahe no Kimi killed. Now, after the death of Toyohi, we are told that Moriya’s personal army was quote-unquote “making disturbances”, a polite euphemism likely meaning he was taking out potential rivals, although apparently not in a way that unified the rest of the court against him, probably meaning that he concocted some excuse or another for whatever happened. But he was going to need more to feel safe again, and that safety lay in getting Hasetsube Anahobe onto the throne. To do that, though, they needed to coordinate.
And so, Mononobe no Moriya crafted a secret message to Anahobe, suggesting that they go hunting together over on Awaji Island. Hunting was a common enough activity for the court nobles of this era, and Awaji island was across the water, well away from prying ears. There, Moriya and Anahobe could craft their plans to put Anahobe on the throne.
As they say, however, “Loose Lips Sink Ships”, and in this case the ship that was sunk was the one forming between Moriya and Anahobe. Word got to Soga no Umako about just what Moriya was attempting to do, and he immediately took it up with Kashikiya Hime. Word of the attempted collaboration was as good as proof, and together the Queen and her uncle commissioned three men and their forces to go and unalive prince Anahobe as well as another Prince known to be sympathetic to his cause, Yakabe no Miko.
The takedown of Anahobe reads like something that would fit in well in a Hollywood blockbuster. The three men gathered their forces and headed to Anahobe’s residence, which was apparently at least two stories tall, as they chased Anahobe through the house until they cornered him on the second story balcony. There, one of the attackers lashed out at Anahobe, catching him on the shoulder. With what I can only imagine as a Wilhelm Scream <insert Wilhelm Scream> Anahobe went over the railing and fell to the ground. As his assailants headed back to the ground floor, Anahobe dragged himself over to the outhouse and hid himself in the dark, inside. His assailants were thorough, however, and holding up their torches they were able to find Anahobe’s hiding place. And so instead of sitting on one throne, he died in another.
Either way, Moriya was now in a real pickle. If the ministers weren’t out to get him before, they definitely were, now, and his presumed royal patrons were both permanently unavailable. And so Mononobe no Moriya gathered his men to his house in Shibukawa, where they fortified themselves against outside attack.
Here we can really see the bias of the Chroniclers coming through. On the side of the pro-Soga forces, led by Kashikiya Hime and Soga no Umako, you have numerous named individuals, including five royal princes, and numerous noble families, many of which we’ve heard about previously. There were the Ki, the Kose, the Kashiwade, and the Katsuragi. Later we are told of the Kasuga, the Sakamoto, the Heguri, the Abe, and even the Ohotomo. They were all of Omi or Muraji rank. Meanwhile, on the other side were the Mononobe, defending with the men of his house—that is to say the warriors that made the Mononobe family what it was—and what the Chronicles call a “slave army”.
Of course, the Chroniclers’ own biases are likely dripping through the pages, here, based on the way things were going. Only Nakatomi Katsumi was mentioned helping Mononobe no Moriya, and after he exits the stage the Nakatomi seem mysteriously absent from the rolls on either side, especially as a later note makes reference to “men of rank” amongst Moriya’s troops. Then there is the note that the Mononobe forces were buoyed by enslaved soldiers, though for some reason I highly doubt that they were the only ones using such forces, and that may have just been a dig at Moriya and his army.
Whatever the Chroniclers thought of them, they were still quite formidable soldiers. It wasn’t for nothing that the Mononobe were the court’s goons whenever they needed a little bit of that ultraviolence enacted on someone. On top of that, they had had time to fortify their position, creating their own Inaki, or Rice Fort, from which to fight. Even Moriya himself joined in the fighting, climbing into the fork of a tree where he rained down arrows like Legolas at Helm’s Deep.
The Mononobe repulsed the pro-Soga forces at least three times, and it wasn’t looking great for Umako and his forces. In the rear of the train was the young Prince Umayado, and even he could tell that things weren’t going well.
We know that Umayado was considered particularly precocious, and the Chroniclers also tell us that he had his hair “tied up on the temples”, as was the custom for boys of about 15 to 16 years of age. At 17 it would be divided and made into tufts, a tradition that was at least present in the 8th century, and it is not uncommon to see later imagery of Prince Umayado when he was younger, with this kind of a boy’s hairstyle.
Umayado was certain that the pro-Soga forces would be beaten, and suggested that their only option was prayer. But not prayer to the kami, as might have been the case in earlier centuries. Rather, he suggested that they employ a strategy that I’ll call “Buddha take the wheel!” He found a small tree nearby and cut it down to fashion images of the four Heavenly Kings, or the Shitennou. He then placed the images in his own hair, for reasons I can’t entirely understand, and uttered a vow: If the Soga forces won the day, then Prince Umayado would erect a temple with a pagoda to give thanks for the Buddha’s assistance.
Interestingly enough, it seems that Umayado was not the only member of the Soga family who thought that they could do with a little divine assistance. Umako also made his own prayer to the “Heavenly Kings” as well as to the “Great Spirit King”, who is also identified with Daikoku. He asked for their protection and, much as Umayado had done, Umako said that if they won then he, too, would erect a temple with a pagoda in their honor. Additionally, he offered to propagate the Three Precious Things everywhere—or at least in the archipelago.
With both of these vows made, and the Heavenly figures of Buddhism properly assuaged, the pro-Soga forces once again engaged the entrenched Mononobe. This time, as they were fighting, an arrow flew out from the bow of none other than Tomi no Obito no Ichihi, the toneri who caught and slew Nakatomi no Katsumi after he killed prince Hikobito. Ichihi’s arrow knocked Mononobe no Moriya off of his branch, and Moriya and his children were soon slain.
With their leader dead, Moriya’s troops finally broke. They ran off and hid wherever they could. Men of rank who had fought for Moriya dressed themselves as though they were only servants, and they claimed that they were just out hunting on the Magari plain, in Hirose. Other children of Moriya’s relatives escaped and hid on the plains of Ashihara, where they enacted their own crude witness protection program, changing their personal names as well as their surnames. Others fled and were never found, making a clean escape.
And with that, the power of the Mononobe was broken, and it would never fully recover. Don’t get me wrong—they were still a powerful court family, and the name Mononobe continues to show up in the records, but the Nihon Shoki no longer records a Mononobe as Ohomuraji, it would seem. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be anyone made “Ohomuraji” in the Nihon Shoki after this incident. However, the Sendai Kuji Hongi does seem to indicate there were Mononobe no Ohomuraji after this point. That suggests that either “Ohomuraji” was more of just the head of any “Muraji” level family, or that perhaps that the Mononobe maintained a little more power than is otherwise thought. Either way, their influence in court was greatly diminished from their previous position.
In the aftermath of all of this, there were several things that happened. Of perhaps least significance, though still an interesting sign that the patriarchy loves to find a woman to blame, the Nihon Shoki regurgitates rumors that some people were claiming this whole episode was orchestrated by Soga no Umako’s wife, the younger sister of Mononobe no Moriya. She urged Umako into all of this, they said, claiming that Moriya’s death was unjust and unnecessary. While they very well could be correct about that latter bit—after all, there is very little hard evidence and it was the victors writing the history—blaming it all on Moriya’s younger sister seems to be stretching things. There were far too many reasons for Umako and Kashikiya Hime to be acting on their own, and no evidence that Umako’s wife was very much involved in any of it.
More significant, perhaps, was the entry saying that there was a temple built dedicated to the Four Heavenly Kings, or Shitennou, in the land of Settsu, which sat between Kawachi and Harima, and includes modern Osaka. Half of Moriya’s enslaved people, as well as all of his household were given to the temple. His own house became a farmhouse, and was also given, likely indicating that the revenues off the old Mononobe lands were now dedicated to the temple’s upkeep.
I would suppose that this is likely the famous Shintennouji, believed to have been built in 593, although there is reason to doubt the whole story. After all, this is too early for the founding of *that* Shitennouji—which we will cover at a later time. There is also the problem that this story sounds suspiciously like one from the continent. There the story happened much later—in the late 7th century, according to the Samguk Yusa—and it was Silla against the Tang dynasty. Supposedly worshipping the Four Heavenly Kings, the Shitennou, helped defend Silla against the Tang, and it may be that story was repurposed here, possibly even making it into temple records. After all, there was a lot of Silla influence in the Naniwa region, and it would be understandable if a temple like Shitennouji claimed a connection with the famous Prince Shotoku using a Silla story retold in the context of a Japanese victory. Besides, Umayado was little more than 15 or 16 at the time all of this went down, so I truly wonder at how miraculously precocious he seems to be.
There’s also the matter that there is another story there, about Soga no Umako making his Buddhist vows, and eventually building Houkoji, aka Asukadera, which seems much more plausible. Como points out, however, that later divisions seemed to form around the Baekje and Silla immigrant lineage groups, and the Soga, for the most part, appeared to be allied with the Baekje moreso than the Silla, but it was the Silla immigrant groups who later dominated—driven in part by activity on the mainland. If Como’s theory bears out, then it would be understandable for there to be a Shotoku story linked to a temple for Silla immigrants, while the Soga no Umako story might be more linked with the Baekje related immigrant families. But we can go over that in more detail, later.
Another outcome of this whole thing was that Tomi no Obito no Ichihi—the toneri that ended up killing both Nakatomi no Katsumi AND Mononobe no Moriya—was granted some 10,000 shiro of rice-land. This probably just meant that he was given a lot, as 10,000 is often just a euphemism for a metric boat-load of something, but if it was real, it might have been something like 15 million acres of land—that would be roughly the size of West Virginia. I suspect it was either an exaggeration, or else the unit of land they used wasn’t a “Shiro” per modern measurements. Indeed, it was not uncommon for ancient measurements to be slightly off from what we know them to be, today.
With Moriya dead and his lands and wealth parceled out, one might think that everything was hunky dory, but there is one more story to all of this—the story of Tottoribe no Yorodzu.
Yorodzu was a dependent of Moriya, and when everything went down, he and about 100 men were standing guard at Moriya’s residence in Naniwa. When he heard about Moriya’s death, he decided to leg it, and he hopped on a horse and rode as quickly as he good down to Arimaka, in the district of Chinu, where he then hid out in the hills. The Court immediately assumed that Yorodzu must be planning something, and accused him of having traitorous feelings. And on that assumption, they ordered Yorodzu’s entire family be put to death.
With his family in mortal danger, Yorodzu came out of the hills to face the Court appointed troops. His clothes were tattered and he had a sword, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows. If they remade this into a movie, today, he’d probably wear camouflage face paint and a red bandana. The court officials had soldiers surround him, but he was afraid, and hid from them in a thicket of bamboo. And here’s where things get really interesting.
Yorodzu knew the hills, and he had prepared for the officials. The thicket he had escaped to wasn’t just any grove. He had rigged it, tying various bamboo together so that he could shake it and make people on the outside think he was in one place or another, disguising his position. From there, he shot his arrows at the soldiers, and not a single one missed. Confused and unsure of where he was, the soldiers hesitated to approach the grove, which gave Yorodzu time to unstring his bow and run off further into the hills.
The soldiers tried to pursue, shooting their own arrows at the fleeing man, but they inevitably missed. However, some of them were rather spry, and one was even able to get ahead of Yorodzu. This Barry Allen of the Yamato Court went prone in a river bank and took careful aim, shooting at Yorodzu as he approached, wounding him in the knee.
Wounded, Yorodzu reached down and pulled out his knee-arrow, restrung his bow, and started firing again. I like to think that his first shot was to fire the knee-arrow back at Barry Allen, but that’s just my own head canon. Taking a break from his sharpshooting, Yorodzu yelled out loudly that he had been accused without examination—he had never had any kind of a trial. He would have defended the sovereign, he claimed, and devoted himself to service, but instead the court had come after him. All he wanted to know was whether or not they would take him in as a prisoner, so he could speak his piece, or were they here just to kill him.
His answer came in a hailstorm of arrows, all of which Yorodzu deflected or avoided. He then ended up killing more than thirty of his assailants with his own shots.
At last, he realized he couldn’t go on any longer. He took out his sword and he chopped up his bow so that nobody would capture it, then he bent his sword and threw it into the river. Finally, he took out his own dagger and stabbed himself in the throat, taking his own life.
This wasn’t enough for the court, however—no honorable way out for him. And so when they heard what had happened, they ordered that Yorodzu’s own body be chopped up and each piece taken to one of the eight provinces. However, as the local governor prepared to carry out this order, suddenly the heavens opened with a thunderous crack and rain started to fall. This suggested that maybe something was up. When the rain cleared, people saw the strangest thing. Apparently Yorodzu had kept a white dog with him, even in the hills. And the dog had been hanging out near Yorodzu’s corpse ever since he had died. It would look up, occasionally howling by the corpse. Finally, the dog took Yorodzu’s head and carried it to an existing kofun, where it placed the head and then stood watch at the entrance. The loyal dog lay down nearby and refused to eat, eventually starving to death in front of the tomb.
When word of this reached the court, it touched even the hardest of hearts, and so a new order was issued: They would allow Yorodzu’s family to construct a tomb and bury his remains. And so they built a tomb in the village of Arimaka and buried Yorodzu along with his loyal dog.
And with that, we can close this chapter on the conflict of the Mononobe and the Soga. It had been born out of the succession disputes, fueled by the conflicts between Buddhism and local religious practice, and eventually broke out into all out war between various factions. There was probably a lot more that just never made it into the history books, and so we may never know the full extent of it. At the same time, it was fertile ground for the Chroniclers to build up the myths around some of the most legendary figures of the day, including the famous Prince Umayado, or Shotoku Taishi. Fact and fiction intermingle, but even through all of that I think we can still see the scale of the conflict that occurred here. Next episode we can look at just who did come to the throne, and what happened next.
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.
And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

Hirabayashi, Akihito. (2022). 蘇我氏の研究普及版. 日本古代氏族研究叢書⑤. 雄山閣. ISBN978-4-639-02863-5.
Shinokawa, Ken. (2022). 物部氏: 古代氏族の起源と盛衰. 吉川弘文館. ISBN978-4-642-05945-9.
Dykstra, Yoshiko Kurata (tr.) (2014). Buddhist Tales of India, China, and Japan: A Complete Translation of the Konjaku Monogatarishū. Japanese section. United States: Kanji Press. ISBN-978-0-91-788008-7
Como, Michael (2008). Shōtoku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition, ISBN 978-0-19-518861-5
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

Episode 90: Setting the Stage

July 16, 2023 Joshua Badgley

Ishibutai kofun, thought to be the eventual resting place of Soga no Umako. The kofun, in the Asuka region, demonstrates the large boulders that were used to create the kind of stone chamber that would house the actual coffin and any grave goods. For some reason, this kofun has lost the earthen mound piled up around it, exposing the inner “skeleton” of the kofun itself. Unfortunately, that also means that the kofun has been easily accessible, and we have no clear grave goods. The kofun is massive in size, and the stones would have required immense labor to put in place, but it seems to be of a square nature, which would go along with the idea that it was the tomb of a powerful individual, but not necessarily a member of the royal family. Photo by author.

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We are getting into some real murky waters, though in this case it isn’t that there isn’t enough information, but there is almost too much. Okay, well, there is definitely still too little about information on things we really want to know, but at this point in the story we are going to get into a lot of names and a lot of relations, so let’s try to boil it down.

First off, let’s set up some of the different alliances and family groups that we are dealing with. To begin with, we have the royal family—Ame Kunioshi, aka Kimmei Tennō, and his direct descendants. In particular, Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennō, and his son, prince Hikobito no Miko.

Then there are the descendants of Soga no Iname, but even they are split into several factions.

First there is the direct Soga line, headed up by Soga no Umako.

Then there is his sister, Kitashi Hime, and her children. That includes Kashikiya Hime, who was also the wife and, eventually, queen to Nunakura Futodamashiki. And also Tachibana no Toyohi, known as Yōmei Tennō. He was married to his cousin, Hasetsukabe Anahobe, and they had a son, Prince Umayado, aka Shōtoku Taishi. One of Kashikiya Hime’s allies was Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe.

Then there is Umako and Kitashi Hime's other sister, Wonane Gimi. Besides given birth to Princess Hasetsukabe Anahobe, she also gave birth to several brothers, including Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe and Prince Hasebe.

On top of this, there is the Mononobe faction. They were headed up by Mononobe no Moriya, and they appeared to be allies with Prince Anahobe, though that relationship wasn’t without its turmoil. Then there were their allies the Nakatomi, including Nakatomi no Katsumi.

Who’s Who - Royal Family

Nunakura Futodamashiki no Mikoto, aka Bidatsu Tennō

Hiro Hime

Hikobito no Ohine

Who’s Who - Soga Family

The Soga family were based out of the Asuka region, south of Kashihara. They are mentioned earlier, but rose to prominence in the 6th century.

Soga no Iname

Soga no Umako

Kitashi Hime

Little is known of Kitashi Hime, other than that she was the daughter of Soga no Iname, and therefore a sister of Umako. She was married to Ame Kunioshi, and gave birth to several prominent individuals in the court, including Kashikiya Hime and Tachibana no Toyohi.

Kashikiya Hime

She had a country home in Iware, between modern Kashihara and Sakurai, in the southeastern corner of the Nara basin.

She would eventually come to the throne herself as Suiko Tennō, and rule with the help of Umako and Prince Umayado

Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yōmei Tennō

He was married to his half-sister, Princess Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Himemiko, and they had several children, including Nukade Hime and Prince Umayado.

Nukade Hime

Princess Nukade Hime is mentioned being made the “Ise Princess”—that is the princess who was in charge of Ise Shrine. At this point that may not have been quite as prestigious a position as it would later come to be known, but it was important to the Chroniclers

Prince Umayado

Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe

Based on his kabane of “Kimi”, Sakahe was likely a local power in the Miwa region, which included, or at least bordered, Iware, the location of many of the early court figures. Sakahe is portrayed as a true and loyal servant of Nunakura and to Kashikiya Hime—which put him at odds with others, like Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe. He may have also pissed off Soga no Umako at one point, possibly resisting the advance of Buddhism, which would make sense as Miwa and Mt. Mimoro was, at the time, one of the holiest places in Yamato, and the worship of Miwa appears to have spread throughout the archipelago.

He was also in charge of the Palace of Interment for Nunakura Futodamashiki, which would lead to some conflict with Prince Anahobe.

Wonane Gimi

Wonane Gimi is another daughter of Soga no Iname, and the younger sister to Kitashi Hime. She was also married to Ame Kunioshi, and her offspring, who were likewise grandchildren of Soga no Iname, would also play a large part in the narrative to come. We’ll only mention a few here. First there is her daughter, Princess Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Himemiko, who married her half-brother, Tachibana no Toyohi. Then there is Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko, who was hungry for the throne. Finally, there was Prince Hasebe no Miko, who will feature more prominently in future episodes.

Princess Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Himemiko

Wife to Tachibana no Toyohi and mother to Princess Nukade as well as Prince Umayado.

Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko

Prince Hasebe no Miko

Hasebe (or Hatsusebe) is currently something of a background character, though there is some evidence he supported his brother in his dealings, at least initially.

Who’s Who - Mononobe Family

The traditional role of the Mononobe were as police and military enforcers for the Court.

Mononobe no Moriya

Moriya had control of the Mononobe forces, which were not insubstantial, and helped carry out the duties of the Mononobe.

Nakatomi no Muraji no Katsumi

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

References

Hirabayashi, Akihito. (2022). 蘇我氏の研究普及版. 日本古代氏族研究叢書⑤. 雄山閣. ISBN978-4-639-02863-5.
Shinokawa, Ken. (2022). 物部氏: 古代氏族の起源と盛衰. 吉川弘文館. ISBN978-4-642-05945-9.
Dykstra, Yoshiko Kurata (tr.) (2014). Buddhist Tales of India, China, and Japan: A Complete Translation of the Konjaku Monogatarishū. Japanese section. United States: Kanji Press. ISBN-978-0-91-788008-7
Como, Michael (2008). Shōtoku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition, ISBN 978-0-19-518861-5
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

Episode 89: Baekje and Yamato on the Rocks

July 1, 2023 Joshua Badgley

A golden animal head umbrella finial, found on Okinoshima island, and dated to the 6th century. These kinds of things were coming across the straits, and there was clearly a robust trade network, even if every mission wasn’t mentioned in the Chronicles somewhere. Photo by author, at the Munakata Taisha Shinpokan; the museum of their holy treasures, including those found on the islands at the other connected shrines.

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This episode we look at some of the other goings-on during the reign of Nunakura Futodamashiki no Mikoto—especially as regards some of the cross-strait relations with Silla and Baekje, largely revolving around the status of the state of Nimna.

Who’s Who

Nunakura Futodamashiki no Mikoto, aka Bidatsu Tennō

The current sovereign, son of Ame Kunioshi—we are told he was not a Buddhist, but he did enjoy continental literature.

Nichira

Aka Nila or Illa (日羅), a name made up of the first character from “Nihon” (日本) and the last character of Silla (新羅). Later stories claim he was a holy Buddhist monk, although I don’t know if I’m aware of many monks at this point donning armor to visit royalty or suggesting that countries wipe out boats filled with men, women, and children.

(More as we get a chance to update)

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 89: Baekje and Yamato on the Rocks
Last episode we covered the continued rise of Buddhism. From the enigmatic Prince Ohowake, and his importation of experts and texts to found a temple in the Naniwa region, to the more well-documented case of Soga no Umako, who continued his father’s efforts to establish a temple at their home in the Asuka area, going so far as to have three women inducted as nuns—the first clergy we know of to have been ordained in the archipelago, even though it may have been less than perfectly orthodox in the manner of ceremony. We also talked about how a coalition of other court nobles, led by the Mononobe family, were undermining the Soga and accused their new-fangled religious ideas of bringing plague to the people—plague that, even though the Soga’s temple was destroyed to prevent it, nonetheless took the life of the sovereign, Nunakura Fotadamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou.
And for many, that’s probably the highlight of this reign, which was deeply involved in the spread of Buddhism, as well as providing the roots of the conflict between the old guard of the Mononobe and the newly risen Soga family. However, it isn’t as if that is all that was happening. There were continued international developments, among other things, and these were intertwined with everything else—nothing was happening in a vacuum. For example, the country of Baekje was the source of many of the early Buddhist texts and professionals, with Buddhist gifts becoming a part of the “tributary diplomacy” that is depicted in the Chronicles at this time. Whereas earlier diplomatic gifts may have included bronze mirrors, many embossed with figures such as the Queen Mother of the West, in the 6th century Buddhist icons and imagery seem to hold a similar currency.
I’d also note that giving Buddhist images and texts as gifts or tribute held an added layer of meaning, at least from a Buddhist interpretation. After all, not only were you providing prestige goods, which then helped boost the status of one’s diplomatic partners, but it also earned merit for the person gifting such things, as they were then able to make the claim that they were helping to spread the teachings of the Buddha. This provided an appeal to such gifts on multiple levels, both within and without the growing Buddhist world.
At the same time that Baekje and Yamato continued to advance their ties, Silla continued to grow. Since absorbing the states of Kara, or Gaya, including the Yamato-allied state of Nimna, Silla had grown and was consolidating its power. Silla itself had started out as a coalition of six city-state-like polities that came together in a union. They were one of the main targets of early Yamato aggressions on the Korean peninsula, with numerous discussions of raids by “Wa” sailors, though little is typically seen of the reverse. The Chronicles make the claim that early Silla was a subordinate tributary state of Yamato, which modern historians regard as little more than fiction—likely part of the propaganda campaign of the Yamato court attempting to place themselves in the superior position. Still, it does seem reasonable that prior to the 6th century Silla had remained a relatively minor state, occasionally allying with—or against—the states of Baekje and Goguryeo, as well as the other independent polities that were once present but have largely been obscured by the uncertain mists of the past. The fact that they survived as long as they did, and thus had so much written material, speaks to why they loom so much larger in the early histories, but such things are always hard to judge when all of your material basically comes from the quote-unquote “winners”, historically speaking. Just think how, if Kibi or Tsukushi, or even Izumo had become the dominant polity in Japan, our Chronicles would focus much more on what happened there rather than just covering what was happening in the Nara basin and adjacent Kawachi plain all the time.
And then there is the state of Goryeo, known to us today as Goguryeo, or Old Goreyo—in many ways the granddame of the Three Kingdoms of ancient Korea, with the greatest claim to the territory of ancient Gojoseon and Buyeo culture. Back in Episode 86 we saw a few of their attempts at diplomatic relations with Yamato landing along the Japan Sea side of Honshu—possibly a side effect of the path they were taking, sailing down along the eastern coast of the Korean peninsula, rather than via the Bohai Sea in the west. This may also have been indicative of the relatively friendly relations between Goguryeo and the expanding state of Silla.
Silla also offered up a normalization of relations, though it was met with mixed results—and even those mixed results are, well, mixed in terms of just what was really happening versus what was being projected back by Chroniclers writing a century or two later. Back in the previous reign, that of Ame Kunioshi, aka Kimmei Tennou, Silla envoys had also been received some time after their conquest of Nimna, and the Chronicles, at least, indicate that Yamato was less than enthusiastic to receive them, indicating that tensions remained high, and Ame Kunioshi took every opportunity to admonish Silla and to request that Nimna be reestablished as an independent entity, or so we are told.
Similarly, in the 11th month of 574, Silla sent another embassy, but we have very little information on it—given the timing it may have been intended to express their condolences on the death of Ame Kunioshi and their congratulations to Nunakura for ascending to the throne. About four months later, in 575, Baekje also sent an embassy, and we are told that this one sent more “tribute” than normal, possibly as a congratulations to Nunakura and an attempt to strengthen the Baekje-Yamato alliance. There may have also been a request for more specific assistance, since Nunakura apparently took the time to remind the Imperial Princes, as well as the new Oho-omi, Soga no Umako, to remain diligent regarding the matter of Nimna. As Aston translates it, he specifically said “Be not remiss in the matter of Imna”. Yamato was still apparently displeased with the fact that Nimna, which was once an ally, was now under Silla control.
Following that, the Yamato court sent their own envoys to Baekje and then Silla—though specifically they sent the embassy to Silla controlled Nimna, according to the Chronicles. A couple of months later, Silla sent an embassy back, including more tribute than normal, though the only hint of why, beyond the previous mention of Nimna, is that Silla was including tribute for four more townships, which seems kind of a weird flex, but may have been an indication of their growth, as well as a diplomatic notification that these four areas were part of what Silla now considered their territory.
The full reasons Baekje and Silla sent more tribute than normal are unclear; it could have been part of a recognition of Nunakura’s coronation and an attempt to butter up the new administration. It is possible that both Baekje and Silla were vying for Yamato favoritism, as well. Silla may also have been trying to basically pay off Yamato and get them to forget the whole thing with Nimna—something that, as we shall see, was not going to happen quickly.
Yamato sent another mission to Baekje in 577, two years later. This was the mission of Ohowake no Miko and Woguro no Kishi to Baekje, from which Ohowake brought back various accoutrements and set up a temple in Naniwa—modern Ohosaka. We discussed this, as well as our ignorance over the actual person of Ohowake no Miko, in our last episode, episode 88. It is interesting, however, if Ohowake no Miko was the actual individual who went to Baekje—mostly we see lower ranking men; those from Kishi level families, or similar. Occasionally a “muraji” or “omi” level family sends someone, particularly at the head of a military force, but not so often do we see a prince of the blood making the dangerous journey across the seas. I have to assume that this was an important mission, and that seems to have been borne out when you consider just what was brought back. Despite all of that, the details are frustratingly vague—worse than trying to find and put together the oldest episodes of Dr. Who and the First Doctor.
We do know that the whole trip took about six months, which gives a sense of what it meant to undertake one of these journeys. Most of that would have been living at the distant court. They didn’t have phones, let alone email, so they couldn’t really send word ahead with exact details—although there may have been informal communication networks via the many fishermen who regularly worked the straits. More likely, an embassy would simply show up in a boat one day and start asking the locals to “take me to your leader”.
Once you got there, they hopefully had room for you—they might even have a special location for you and your entourage to stay while they went through the formalities. After all, someone had to get you on the schedule, and any diplomatic gifts… ahem, “tribute”… should be catalogued and written down before the meeting. That way the host country could figure out just what they were going to reciprocate with. There is also possible training in any local ceremony and customs as you couldn’t assume that foreign dignitaries necessarily know what is expected. And then there would be the translating, likely through a shared language, possibly Sinic characters if everyone is literate.
Also, during that time, the mission would probably have been hosting guests or being invited out by some of the local elites. They were both guests and curiosities. And there might have been some personal trading and bartering going on off to the side—after all, you have to pay the bills somehow, and as long as nothing eclipsed the diplomatic mission, then I suspect there were some other “trade goods” that these ambassadors brought to help barter with locals and ensure they could bring back various goods and souvenirs.
In some cases, and it is unclear if it was by choice or not, ambassadors might be invited to stay longer, even settle down with a local wife and family. There are several examples of this that we see in the Chronicles, so it wasn’t all that rare.
So that was the mission from Yamato to Baekje. The next mission from Silla came in 579, some four years later, and we are told they brought “tribute” that included a Buddhist image. And then, only a year after that we have another mission, but it was dismissed before it could ever be received.
And that is a bit odd. Why would Yamato not receive the embassy? We aren’t given a reason, and it is pretty short, all things considered. We do know the names of the envoys. Indeed, the same two envoys: Ato Nama and Chilsyo Nama tried again two years later, but they were again dismissed, without accepting the tribute. This is all quite odd, but it does go to show the fickle nature of foreign relations.
One possibility may have to do with the way that “tribute diplomacy” appears to have worked. We know that in the case of the Han, Wei, and even the Tang and later dynasties, states were encouraged to come as tributaries, bringing goods as part of their diplomatic embassy, and then the receiving state was expected to provide items of even greater value in return. In the 16th century, various daimyo, or Japanese warlords, would use this to their advantage, representing themselves as legitimate emissaries in order to get the Ming dynasty court to give them even greater gifts in return. As multiple embassies showed up, all claiming to be the Japanese representatives, the Ming court started a policy of only accepting the first one that came, as they had no way to tell who was the legitimate ruler during the chaos of the Warring States period.
I bring that up because I notice that the first mission by Ato Nama and Chilsyo Nama took place only 8 months or so after the one in 579, which brought the Buddhist image. Given the typical time between embassies, that seems very short, and it seems quite possible that the Yamato court didn’t believe that the embassy was real, and that it was too soon after the previous one. Or it could even have been even more mundane—it is possible the court didn’t have the stores to pay out against the tribute, though that isn’t the reason that they would have given for turning them away. After all, it was not exactly a safe journey to cross the ocean and make your way to Japan. Whether you hopped down the island chain or took a more direct route, using the island of Okinoshima as a guide post in the middle of the strait, it was not particularly easy and many embassies never made it across or back.
I suspect, however, that there was something else going on, and that is in part because it seems to be the same two individuals coming back two years later, and they were once again turned away. It is possible that Nunakura and the Yamato court had a specific beef with these two individuals, but in that case they probably would have sent word to Silla to tell them to send someone else. This probably is indicative of the growing tensions between Yamato and Silla. From a narrative sense, it would make sense for Yamato to accept envoys just after a new sovereign came to power. It would help legitimize the sovereign, and it also offers a chance to reset and reestablish the relationship. The second envoy, bringing a Buddhist image, would certainly be something that the Chroniclers would find historically interesting and would bolster their own thoughts about the rising importance of Buddhism in the period. However, as we see in an episode from 583, Nunakura was still concerned about trying to re-establish Nimna. I suspect that this may have been a condition the Yamato court placed on Silla and the envoys, and it is possible that they weren’t willing to discuss anything without at least discussing that.
Or perhaps that is at least the impression the Chroniclers wish to give. They are still referring to it as “Mimana” or “Mimana no Nihonfu”, making claims that it was the Yamato government’s outpost on the peninsula, and therefore something of a personal blow to the Yamato court for it to have been overrun. Trying to re-establish Nimna would become something of a rallying cry; think of it like “Remember the Alamo” or “Remember the Maine”; regardless of the truth behind either incident, they were both used as justifications for war at the time. The case of Mimana was used to justify Yamato actions on the peninsula, and it would continue to be brought back up until modern times, including helping to justify Japan’s invasion of Korea in the early 20th century.
Here I’ll interject with the possibility that there could also have been some internal issues that the court was dealing with. Specifically, in between these two missions by Ato Nama and Chilsyo Nama, there was a bit of a disruption on the northeastern frontier, as the people known to the court as the Emishi rose up in rebellion. We aren’t given the details, but we are told that several thousand Emishi “showed hostility”. The Chronicle then claims that the sovereign simply summoned the leaders, including a chief named Ayakasu, who may have been a chief of chiefs, and then reamed them out, suggesting that he would put the leaders—i.e. Ayakasu and the other chieftains—to death. Of course, the rebellious chieftains immediately had a change of heart and pledged an oath to support Yamato.
Much more likely, I suspect, there was rising tension and hostility in the frontier regions, and Yamato likely had to raise a force to go face them. Assuming that was the case, it would have taken time to travel out there, subdue any uprising, and then drag the leaders back to the court to make of them an example to others. If that was the case, then it may have been that Yamato simply did not feel they had the time to deal with Ato Nama and his crew.
For a bit clearer reference, from the 8th through 11th years of the reign, there are simply relatively short entries. So in 579 there is the mission of ChilCheulchong Nama, who brought the Buddhist image. Then, in 580, we have Ato Nama and Chilsyo Nama attempt to offer tribute. Then, in 581, there is a rebellion of the Emishi, followed, in 582, by another attempt by Ato Nama and Chilsyo Nama to offer tribute. That’s about all that we have to go on.
In any case, though, we have a very clear indication in 583, only 9 months after again refusing the tribute from Ato Nama and crew, that Nimna was once again on the Court’s mind. Nunakura apparently went on a rant about how Silla had destroyed Nimna back in the days of his father, Ame Kunioshi. Nunakura claimed he wanted to continue his father’s work, but it was unclear just where to get started.
And so they decided to consult an expert. His name appears to have been something like Nichira—possibly something like Nila, depending on the pronunciation of the Sinic characters, or Illa in modern Korean, which is Aston’s preferred reading. It is said that he is the son of “Arishito” or “Arisateung”, the “Kuni no Miyatsuko”, or local ruler, of Ashikita, in the land of Hi, in Kyushu, and that he lived in Baekje, holding the rank of “Talsol”, the second official rank in the Baekje court. Ashikita was mentioned as far back as Episode 33, during the reign of Oho Tarashi Hiko, aka Keikou Tennou, as he was trying to subdue the Kumaso, and was likely a later addition to Yamato’s sphere of influence.
Nichira only makes a brief appearance here in the Nihon Shoki, but he is something of an enigma. He is presented as a citizen of Yamato, but his name appears to be from the Korean peninsula and even his father’s name hearkens back to another Arishito, who may have been the king of Kara or one of the associated polities. And yet here, this Arishito is the local ruler in Ashikita, in the land of Hi—later divided into Hizen and Higo. Given that he is referenced as “Hi no Ashikita no Kuni no Miyatsuko” this has been suggested as indicating that he was a member of the “Hi no Kimi”, the family that descended from the Lords of Hi. And this may connect to something later in the story.
There do appear to be some later documents that reference Nichira. Some claim that he was a Buddhist priest, and he’s even connected with the famous Shotoku Taishi in some stories, where he is depicted as a wise priest who recognizes Shotoku Taishi’s own Buddha nature. Of course, at this point, the prince would only have been about 10 years old, assuming the dates around his birth are at all accurate—a subject we’ll save for a later podcast, as there is just so much around Shotoku Taishi to cover.
As for the current story, however: Nichira was over in Baekje, at the court of the Baekje king, and so it wasn’t just a small matter of asking him to come to court. Ki no Kuni no Miyatsuko no Oshikatsu and Kibi no Amabe no Atahe no Hashima were sent on the dangerous mission of crossing the straits and bringing him back from Baekje. Their mission was for naught, however. Three months later they returned, empty-handed, with the unfortunate news that the king of Baekje had refused to let Nichira leave. Apparently his presence in Baekje was highly prized, and the Baekje king wasn’t willing to part with him so easily.
Yamato wasn’t deterred, however, and Nunakura sent Hashima back to Baekje. This time, Hashima went straight to Nichira’s house before any audiences at court. When he arrived, he heard a woman calling out in the local language a phrase which Aston found salty enough to throw into Latin: “Let your root enter my root!” Despite the implied sexual innuendo of such a statement, Hashima quickly understood what she meant and he followed her inside. She led him to Nichira, and there Hashima was asked to take a seat.
Nichira acknowledged that the Baekje king was not likely to let him go if he had a choice. The King was likely afraid that if Nichira went to Yamato then he’d never be allowed to return back to Baekje. Therefore, Hashima had to summon all of the authority vested in him by the sovereign of Yamato to demand Nichira’s release in no uncertain terms.
Sure enough, Hashima took the bold approach and demanded Nichira’s release, and the King of Baekje finally relented and allowed him to return. He wouldn’t go alone, however. Nichira was accompanied by other high officials from Baekje, including several men of the 3rd and 4th ranks, and a number of sailors to transport them.
They first arrived in the land of Kibi, Hashima’s own home base, and then headed on to Naniwa, where Nichira was greated by Ohotomo no Nukadeko no Muraji, likely a descendent of Ohotomo no Kanamura, the former top dog in the Yamato court. He offered Nichira condolences for the long trip he’d had to endure, and set him up in an official residence there in the port city.
Later there were daibu—high officials—who were sent to the residence to attend on Nichira.
After he’d had time to freshen up, Nichira headed off to the court. When he drew near, he donned a suit of armor and mounted a horse, and in such a fashion he rode right up to the Audience Hall of the sovereign. There he bowed before kneeling down. He then recounted how his forefathers had been sent to the Korean Peninsula up in the first place back in the reign of Senka Tennou, aka Takewo Hiro Kunioshi Tate, in the early part of the 6th century. After explaining who he was and where he came from, he took off the armor and offered it as a gift to the sovereign himself.
Off to such a great start, the sovereign had a residence constructed for Nichira in the area of Kuwanoichi, in Ato—likely meaning an area of modern Ohosaka, near Naniwa. Later, with all of the ritual pleasantries out of the way, a war council was sent to ask Nichira just how they could move forward on the question of Nimna. This war council included Abe no Me no Omi, Mononobe no Niheko no Muraji, and Ohotomo no Nukadeko no Muraji.
Nichira provided them a plan to go to war, but it wasn’t simple nor was it quick. First he suggested that they spend the first three years building up the prosperity of Yamato, and getting all of the people behind the government. Next, he suggested building up a massive number of ships, such at that any visitors would be impressed to see them all in the harbor, and thus word would get out and it would project Yamato’s military power.
Finally, once that was done, Nichira suggested inviting the King of Baekje—or at least a royal representative in the form of a high prince or similar—be invited to Yamato, where they would see all of the power and good governance. They could then be taken to task for why Nimna had not yet been reestablished.
After the war council, Nichira sent a letter to the sovereign, Nunakura. In it he let Nunakura know that Baekje was going to send a request to relocate 300 ships worth of people to Tsukushi to settle there. Here things turned rather dark as Nichira suggested that they would see the ships filled with men, women, and children hoping to establish a Baekje colony in the archipelago. Nichira suggested setting up an ambush around Iki and Tsushima and that they should slaughter everyone. Then Yamato should build up fortifications of their own—probably as coastal defenses in case Baekje decided to retaliate.
And here I’m going to interject that this seems just really odd and strange. First, Nichira and Nunakura were talking about trying to reestablish Nimna with their ally, Baekje, and suddenly Nichira is suggesting that Baekje might try to establish a colony in their territory, and therefore it should be wiped out. That all feels very extreme, and this whole passage has puzzled commenters, especially when you consider the reputation Nichira later has as some kind of holy priest or monk.
Apparently this was the kind of advice, though, that may have been why Baekje did not want Nichira to come back in the first place. In fact, as the Baekje envoys themselves began to head out to return to Baekje, they left a couple of people in Yamato with a sinister plot of their own: as soon as the ships had sailed off and made considerable distance on the way back home, those left behind were to assassinate Nichira. In return, they were told that they would be given a higher rank and that their families would be looked after, in the very real possibility that they found out and killed themselves. A not insubstantial promise at the time.
With the official residence in Naniwa vacated after the departure of the rest of the Baekje delegation, Nichira decided to move back in, rather than staying in the home made for him in Kuwanoichi. The would-be assassins tried to approach him, and hatched plot after plot. However, they were stopped because apparently Nichira had some ancient superpowers. Indeed, his body apparently glowed brightly, like a flame of fire, and so the assassins could not get anywhere near him. They had to wait until the end of the 12th month, when Nichira’s own radiance faded, and they were then able to slay him.
This whole thing about radiance is intriguing, and may have several origins such that even if it isn’t factually accurate, it may have something more to say about just who Nichira was or might have been.
First off, there is the obvious. “Nichi”, in “Nichira”, means the “sun”, and so it could have been a direct allusion to Nichira’s name. This strikes me as also intriguing because the 12th month indicates the end of the year, usually meaning that it is darker. While the Winter Solstice would not have necessarily been in the old twelfth lunar month, those would have been the days when the suns light was least seen. Add to this that it was at the end of the month, and based on a lunar calendar, the end and beginning of the month would have been the times of the new moon, when it was not visible in the sky. And so we come to what most likely was the darkest night of the entire year.
There is also the fact that he is from Hi no Kuni—he is even considered a member of the ruling family of the land of Hi. The character of “Hi” in this instance is fire. Michaeol Como notes that the Hi no Kimi appear to have been associated with fire cults, as well as with rites of resurrection. “Hi no Kimi” could also be translated as “fire lord”. There may be some connection there with the story.
Finally, we can’t ignore the Buddhist context. Holy individuals are often said to radiate light from their bodies. For example, we have the story about Nichira meeting the young child that would be known as Shotoku Taishi, found in the Konjaku Monogatari, or “Tales of Now and Then”, a 12th century collection of various stories, many focused on Buddhist stories. In that story, Nichira radiates a light and the Shotoku radiates a light of his own in response. In fact, Buddhist images often depict holy figures with halos, or even wreathes of flames around them, likely a depiction or literal interpretation of what we find in the Buddhist texts, which may have originally been meant more metaphorically.
Oh, and notice how I talked about resurrection? Maybe you thought we’d just let that one slide. Well, apparently there was a brief zombie moment, as Nichira suddenly came back to life after he had been killed just to implicate the men from Baekje who had stayed back, and then he died again. Supposedly this is because there was a Silla envoy in port, and he didn’t want them to take the blame.
That resurrection piece, well, it isn’t the first time we’ve seen that, and it isn’t entirely uncommon to hear about something along those lines. In the Harima Fudoki there is another story of resurrection, and it involves a member of the “Hi no Kimi”, or lords of Hi. In that story, a member of the Hi no Kimi came to a center of Silla immigrants and married a young woman whom he had brought back from the dead. Another connection between the country of Hi and some of what we see attributed to Nichira.
At the same time, Saints in ancient England would occasionally rise from their deathbeds for one last piece of wisdom or to admonish someone before laying back down into that sleep of death. At the same time, it is possible that diagnosing death, versus, say, a coma or other unconscious state with very shallow breathing, wasn’t always a clear thing. In the west, as recently as at least Victorian times people were so afraid of being buried alive that there were tombstones created with bells that went to a pull down in the coffin, just in case. There have also been practices of pricking a corpse with a needle or similar to try to get a response. So I could believe that every once in a while a person who was declared deceased wasn’t quite ready to start pushing up daisies, and it is possible that this is more of a deathbed accusation than any kind of resurrection.
Still, the story clearly depicts it as a brief, but true resurrection. From his words, the court arrested the envoys who had remained behind and threw them into some kind of confinement while they figured out what to do with them. Nichira’s wife and children were moved to Kudaramura, or “Baekje Village”, in the area of Ishikawa, while the sailors who had been part of Nichira’s household were settled in nearby Ohotomo no mura. It is unclear if they were given leave to return to Baekje if they wanted, or if that was even on the table.
As for the murderers themselves, they weren’t punished by the Court. Rather the court handed them over to Nichira’s family, the Ashikita, for them to deliver justice. I believe this is the first time we’ve really seen this kind of justice in the Chronicles, with the familial groups taking such a direct role.
Now why is this story important, and what does it tell us?
Well, nominally, this says something about the continuing struggle by Yamato to reestablish Nimna, but I’m not sure how much of that is accurate. Though the story starts out about consulting Nichira about Nimna, there is nothing more to say on that topic, and it quickly becomes something that is almost more about the seemingly fragile Baekje-Yamato alliance.
There is also an interesting side note that through all of this there were apparently Silla emissaries there in Yamato, even though the Chronicle claims that the last two were sent away, so what’s up with that? It could be that the story is anachronistic—that is, it isn’t recorded in the right year. Or there was a mission that just didn’t rise to the level of being noticed by the Chroniclers. One other thought is that the formal diplomatic ties were only some of the traffic flowing back and forth. This seems the most likely, to me. By this point there was no doubt a desire for trade goods on both sides of the strait, and no matter where people came from, the merchant ships were likely plying the waters back and forth. So it is quite possible that the men of Silla who were in port were part of a trade mission, not necessarily diplomats.
Michael Como suggests some other reasons why this whole thing was considered important. He notes that there are several things here that connect this to the Abe family. It is unclear where this family comes from, but they have been mentioned here or there throughout the Chronicles, and by this point are at least are fairly high up in the court. Their name is a bit of an enigma for me, and I’ll have to do more research. I just want to note that they use a different “Be” than the Mononobe or similarly created corporate families. It is unclear to me why this would be the case, unless this is just where the two seem similar.
It should be noted that we should be careful not to assume too much about this early Abe family from one of its most famous Heian era descendants, Abe no Seimei, known as a famous Onmyoji, or master of Yin-Yang divination. I’m not entirely sure that the Abe were any more or less court ritualists than any other family, especially this early. Rather, it is their influence over certain geographic regions that is more immediately of interest.
We noted that as the son of a “Hi no Ashikita no Kuni no Miyatsuko”, Nichira was likely a member of the Hi no Kimi clan. They were originally based in southern Kyushu, and Como notes that they may have been under the sway of the Abe clan, at least by the 7th century, along with other notable families of Tsukushi, which is to say, modern Kyushu.
There are a lot of connections between Ashikita, Hi, and Silla that are telling. In the Harima story, it is a Silla wife that the Hi no Kimi marries. When Nichira resurrects, it is specifically to ensure that the Silla envoys who were present would not take the blame. Then there is his father’s name—or more likely title—of Arishito. A term seen used for the King of Nimna at one point, but also for the ancient Tsunoga, who is said to have been an ancient prince from the continent. Como suggests that Hi no Kuni—and thus their lords, the Hi no Kimi, may have played a part in the rebellion of Iwai, when Iwai attempted to ally Kyushu with Silla to break off contact between Yamato and Baekje. It is even possible that this was one of the reasons that Nichira was basically being held hostage in Baekje—perhaps he and his family had been exiled after the rebellion, or else left before any harm could come to them.
It would make some sense as to why the court sought him out in the first place. If he and his family were familiar with Silla, perhaps the court thought he would have particular insights. It might also suggest some of his motives regarding Baekje as well. Still, the picture is far from clear.
Although the Chronicle says that Nichira was taken back to Ashikita and buried, other sources suggest that he was entombed in Naniwa at Himejima, near Himegoso shrine. This, in turn, was the home of a sub-lineage of the Abe family, known as the Himegoso Abe. Como suggests that by the 7th century, the Abe were appropriating various Hi no Kimi cultic centers, to the point that by the time the Chronicles were written, the Abe no Omi and the Hi no Kimi were claiming common ancestry and jointly participating in various rites.
Como then links the timing of the death of Nichira to certain court rituals of fire pacification and purification. And so there may have been much more at play here than simply the story of Nimna and the attempts to reestablish that country.
As for the envoys who sailed off and left their lackeys to do their bidding? Apparently they were struck with a bout of karma on the way back, and their boat foundered and sank. This was likely seen as proof that their deeds had been committed with evil intent, at least by later readers, interpreting everything through a Buddhist lens that likely saw Nichira as more saintly than it seems he truly was.
After all of that, though, there is no evidence that the court really pulled it off. Instead, in 584, the year after everything had gone down with Nichira, the court sent Naniwa no Kishi no Kitahiko off to Nimna, now controlled by Silla, presumably to negotiate for some kind of reinstatement. That doesn’t appear to have happened, however, and the year after that, in 585, there was one more attempt, this time by Sakata no Mimiko no Miko. Sakata had previously been sent on a mission to request Silla reestablish Nimna in 571, only months before the sovereign, Ame Kunioshi, died. Now, as he was about to set out, the sovereign and the powerful Mononobe no Moriya came down with a pestilence, and were ridden with sores, such that they called off preparations for the mission. And sure enough, later that year, Ame Kunioshi’s successor, Nunakura Futadamashiki, likewise passed away.
I guess the rule here is don’t send Sakada no Mimiko to try to demand anything about Silla.
Of course, I have to also wonder if there wasn’t something else going on. It’s suspicious that the Chroniclers recorded two missions to Silla, both led by the same guy, both about reestablishing Nimna, and both happening just before the Sovereign passed away. Maybe history really repeated itself like this, or maybe the Chroniclers just knew that such a mission was sent in the last year of one of these reigns, and then put it in bothAnd we don’t hear anything more about Mimiko after that, either.
We also don’t hear anything else about the unfortunate envoy, Sakada no Mimiko, either. The other interesting thing to note is that, like Ohowake no Miko, Mimiko is a certified royal prince, though I don’t see any immediate name to connect him with, at least in the immediate lineage. It has been suggested that this is one of the sons of Wohodo no Ohokimi, aka Keitai Tennou, though even that feels tenuous to me.
Either way, both he and Nunakura, as we noted last episode, passed away from the disease sweeping the land.
And that concludes the reign of Nunakura. Next, we’ll get into what happened after his death as we start to see the Soga influence become pre-eminent. There is more to say about the growth of Buddhism and about the clash between the Soga and the Mononobe, one of the formative conflicts from this early period. And of course, we’ve already caught glimpses of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, who had quite the impact on the court—assuming he even existed. But that’s a discussion for another 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.
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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.

References

Dykstra, Yoshiko Kurata (tr.) (2014). Buddhist Tales of India, China, and Japan: A Complete Translation of the Konjaku Monogatarishū. Japanese section. United States: Kanji Press. ISBN-978-0-91-788008-7
Como, Michael (2008). Shōtoku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition, ISBN 978-0-19-518861-5
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

Soga no Umako

Kashikiya Hime

Prince Umayado

Prince Hasebe no Miko

Rough Transcript

References

Who’s Who - Royal Family

Nunakura Futodamashiki no Mikoto, aka Bidatsu Tennō

Hiro Hime

Hikobito no Ohine

Tomi no Obito no Ichihi

Who’s Who - Soga Family

Soga no Iname

Soga no Umako

Kashikiya Hime

Spoiler alert

Prince Takeda no Miko

Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yōmei Tennō

Prince Umayado

Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko

Prince Yakabe no Miko

Prince Hasebe no Miko

Ōtomo no Hirafu no Muraj

Shiba Tattō

Who’s Who - Mononobe Family

Mononobe no Moriya

Nakatomi no Muraji no Katsumi

Tottoribe no Yorodzu

Rough Transcript

References

Who’s Who - Royal Family

Nunakura Futodamashiki no Mikoto, aka Bidatsu Tennō

Hiro Hime

Hikobito no Ohine

Who’s Who - Soga Family

Soga no Iname

Soga no Umako

Kitashi Hime

Kashikiya Hime

Spoiler alert

Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yōmei Tennō

Nukade Hime

Prince Umayado

Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe

Wonane Gimi

Princess Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Himemiko

Prince Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko

Prince Hasebe no Miko

Who’s Who - Mononobe Family

Mononobe no Moriya

Nakatomi no Muraji no Katsumi

Rough Transcript

References

Who’s Who

Nunakura Futodamashiki no Mikoto, aka Bidatsu Tennō

Nichira

Rough Transcript

References