Episode 97: Asukadera and Shitennōji

November 1, 2023 Joshua Badgley

Face and right hand of the Asuka Daibutsu at the current Asukadera. The face and right hand are thought to possibly be original, dating to the early 7th century, while the body appears to have been repaired—possibly having been recast in the form of the original after a fire in 1196. Photo by author.

This episode we start to look at some of the earliest temples, with recorded dates in the Nihon Shoki. Specifically we are going to look at Asukadera and a little bit at Shitennōji.

Painting of Asukadera as it may have looked in the Asuka period, as found on a dedicatory board at the modern Asukadera. It shows the layout of the pagoda and halls and the lecture hall in the rear.

Model of Asukadera from the later Asuka period. Photo by author, taken at the Asuka Historical Museum.

Colorized photo of Shitennōji from before the typhoon that destroyed the main pagoda, requiring it to be rebuilt. This view is looking from the northeast corner, behind the image hall and out towards the central gate.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 97: Asukadera and Shitennouji.
First off, quick shout out to Craig for supporting us on Ko-Fi.com. We’ll have more information on how you can help support the show at the end of the episode.
To recap so far, we are still in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, in the 6th and early 7th centuries—though for this episode we are going to step back a little bit as much of this has origins in the 6th century, looking at the early spread of Buddhism and the founding of some of the first permanent temple complexes—specifically Asukadera in, well, Asuka, and Shitennouji in the area of modern Ohosaka.
As we’ve seen, Yamato was in the process of importing various things from the mainland—both material culture and immaterial things as well, including philosophy and religion. By religion, of course, we are talking about Buddhism, which we’ve already covered to some extent in Episodes 85 and 88, but let’s go over a little bit of the history, shall we, and catch up with what has been happening since.
Buddhism had likely been coming over to the archipelago since the arrival of Buddhist immigrants from Baekje and elsewhere, though their religion is not much discussed. After all, the Nihon Shoki is focused largely on the Yamato royal family and the court, and so other than groups of immigrants beings settled and possibly organized into family groups, there wasn’t much call to look into their day to day practices.
It is also difficult to know just how far Buddhism had penetrated into the lower ranks of society on the continent, as well. Certainly the courts had adopted Buddhism, but to what extent it was part of the daily lives of the common person, I don’t know that I could say with any certainty. Still, we can imagine that there were likely those who came over to the archipelago with an extant belief in the Buddha and some inkling of the rites and other aspects of Buddhist worship. Did they set up small temples in their villages? Or convert a house into a shrine? Or did they just keep private practice and worship? We don’t know, and as far as I’ve come across we don’t seem to have any conclusive evidence via the archaeological record, either. And so we are left with the written record and what it has to say on the subject.
The Nihon Shoki notes the first official mention of Buddhism in the archipelago as the arrival of a Buddhist statue from Baekje. The official record puts this in the year 552, in the reign of Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, and credits Soga no Iname with taking and building the first temple and setting up the first temple by repurposing his own house—or at least some part of his property. Other families, however, opposed the Soga’s attempts at bringing in and establishing this new religion and ultimately ended up destroying that first temple, tossing the image into the river.
This whole thing repeated itself in 584, about 32 years later—Silla had given Yamato a Buddhist image in 579, and then an image of Miroku, aka Maitreya, and an image of the Buddha, aka Shakyamuni, were both found. Soga no Umako, Iname’s son and successor to his role as Oho-omi, took the two images and had a temple once again built, importing specialists and setting up three nuns to attend to the appropriate rituals. Once again, the Soga’s opponents, led by the powerful Mononobe family, cried foul and had the temple destroyed and the nuns stripped of their robes.
There are a few things about this account that are more than a bit sus, however. First, there is mention of that first Buddha image in both the Joguki, the record of the life of Prince Shotoku Taishi, as well as a record from Gangoji Garan Engi, a record from Gangoji temple—which is to say Asukadera, one of the temples we’ll be talking about, today. In those records we find a different date for the first Buddha image, with its arrival coming in 538, not 552. That would have put its arrival a year before Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, took the throne. It is also rather interesting at just how much the two stories parallel each other, and one has to wonder if they were really two separate stories or if they were one story that got attributed to different members of the Soga family, for some reason. It is also possible that they are different stories, but with similar elements that got conflated across each other. Or it really was a matter of déjà vu, with the experience of Soga no Umako paralleling that of his father, Iname. We also cannot discount some massaging of the text. For one thing, they put it in the reign of Amekunioshi, who had a different maternal line than his previous two successors and elder half-brothers. There may have been political reasons to keep the stories as they were and, hopefully, keep the story relatively tidy.
Regardless of why, the implication seems clear that by 585 there were people in Yamato with some knowledge of Buddhism, as well as the necessary artisans and craftspeople to create a continental style temple complex.
In the following years, the fight between the Soga and the Mononobe escalated with the death of sovereign and the ensuing succession dispute. The Mononobe and their candidate, Prince Anahobe, were destroyed by forces in league with the Soga family. During that conflict, which we covered in Episodes 90 and 91, there was a point where both Soga no Umako and his nephew, the young Prince Umayado, each prayed to the Buddha for victory, promising to erect a temple if they succeeded. Indeed, they did succeed, and based on their vows, two temples were eventually created.
The first temple is known as Asukadera, or the Temple of Asuka, although it also is known by its official name of Hokoji, and later Gangoji. Construction of Hokoji started in 588, and is attributed to Soga no Umako.
The second temple is Shitennoji, or the Temple of the Four Heavenly Kings. We’ll talk about them a bit more, later, but the Four Heavenly Kings are four gods, who appear to pre-date Buddhism, who were co-opted into the Buddhist pantheon as protectors of Buddhism, each one representing a cardinal direction. Shitennouji’s traditional founding is given to us as 593.
Both of these temples still exist, in one form or another. If you go to Asuka, today, you can find a small Asukadera on the site of the previous temple, but it is much reduced from its original form. When it was built, Asukadera would have been at the center of the political heartland of Yamato. It was the land of the Soga, but also the location of the palace of Kashikiya Hime, and it likely rivaled her palace for pride of place in Asuka. However, when the capital eventually moved away from Asuka—first to nearby Kashihara, but then across the Nara basin to Heijo-kyo, modern Nara city—the temple buildings were removed to Nara, to modern day Gankouji, though the site of Houkouji continued to be used as a small, local temple.
The modern temple in Asuka does have a Buddha statue, however, that they believe to have been the original Daibutsu, or Giant Buddha, known as the Asuka Daibutsu. It changed hands many times over the centuries, but has since come back to Asuka, though a little worse for wear.
Shitennouji, on the other hand, is in the heart of modern Ohosaka, in the Tennoji ward. The buildings of Shitennouji have been rebuilt numerous times, although supposedly by the same construction company, one of the oldest businesses in the world, and they remain in their original configuration. Since they’ve been rebuilt, however, this is why you will often hear of another temple, Horyuji, also associated with Prince Shotoku Taishi, as being the oldest temple in Japan, as it has the oldest extant buildings. Make no mistake, however—Asukadera and Shitennouji were founded first, and both still survive in some manner.
These two temples do a lot to help us better understand Buddhism and its influence, but also helps us understand more than that. They help us look into the politics of the time, and even illuminate some of the apparent tensions between different immigrant groups from Baekje and Silla that were becoming more and more prominent in Yamato.
Of the various early temples that were built, Asukadera is perhaps one of the most well-documented, both in the historic record as well as the archaeological evidence. Donald McCallum, in his book, “The Four Great Temples”, notes that serious study of Asukadera began around the Meiji and into the Taisho era, in particular calling out the work of Fukuyama Toshio, published in 1934. Up to that point, it was mostly looking at the histories—both the Nihon Shoki and also works like the Gangouji Engi, the record of Gangouji, the later name for Asukadera. He determined that much of the record, though it claimed to have been written by Shotoku Taishi himself, was actually written later than the Nihon Shoki, based on linguistic analysis. However, there were some sections that appear to be earlier or contemporaneous with the Nihon Shoki, likely pulled from other works, which the Nihon Shoki may have been pulling from as well, including inscriptions on the extant temple buildings at the time. This was determined by things like the grammar and Sinitic characters used, as well as the lack of terms like “Tennou”, which still were not in use until later periods. It is also interesting to note that Shotoku Taishi is referred to in the document by the name “Prince Umayado no Toyotomimi”
Based on that analysis, it seems fairly certain that Soga no Umako was, indeed, largely responsible for donations to build Asukadera, although the Nihon Shoki gives credit to Kashikiya Hime as well. That and certain other features of the Nihon Shoki account were probably added later, possibly at the urging of the Gangouji priests themselves, to stress a stronger connection with the Yamato royal family rather than just Soga no Umako.
The text gives a brief history of Buddhism, which is where we see Buddhism being introduced as early as 538, though it seems to suggest this was still in the reign of Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, rather than his predecessors. Soga no Iname is still given much of the credit, though there is a note about Kashikiya Hime also installing a Buddhist icon in her own quarters at one point—something not mentioned in the Nihon Shoki. It does mention the various pro- and anti-Buddhist arguments and steps that the various sides took, including Umako having three nuns ordained and them being eventually defrocked—though without mention of them being whipped, which may have been too much or could be sensationalist additions to the Nihon Shoki text.
One thing that is notably missing in the Gangouji Engi, at least as McCallum summarizes it, is mention of the Mononobe and Soga conflict, and so there is no mention of any special vow that was made to build Asukadera if they were victorious—let alone anything about the vow to build Shitennouji. Instead, it is instigated by the three nuns, who request both a nunnery and a monastery, each with at least 10 ordained nuns or priests, as that was the number required for many of the rites and to ensure proper ordination could take place in the future, thus allowing them to grow the religion. These two temples would need to be close enough so that they could each hear the bells from the other.
Although priests were requested from Baekje, too few came over in response, which is why the nuns themselves were sent over to get a proper ordination. They return in 590 and urge the completion of the two temples—Asukadera and Toyouradera, the latter using the land that was previously Kashikiya Hime’s palace prior to her moving to the Oharida palace site, nearby.
All of that was based on the extant texts, but there were also archaeological excavations that took place in 1956 to 1957, as well as later investigations in and around Asuka Temple and the general area. Even today, excavations in the regions are ongoing, and in a recent visit I saw them excavating nearby palace ruins. Fortunately, the area has not seen the kind of heavy urban development, whether in the modern or pre-modern period, that many other areas have gone through, with much of the land having been returned to farmland, and the importance of the area, today, is well understood.
The initial excavations were a bit surprising. Based on extant temples such as Shitennoji, it was expected that Asukadera would have been planned out in such a way that there was a straight line from the central gate, to the pagoda and the kondou, or golden hall, sometimes called an image hall, with the koudou, or lecture hall, in back. Often there is some separation of the lecture hall from the other two. These buildings are both connected and separated by gates, walls, and pathways, including covered cloisters along the wall, which conforms to the pattern of temples on the Korean peninsula as well. This is very reminiscent of the Baekje layout for temples, and may include other elements such as belfries or similar.
The three main buildings each serve a purpose. As we noted back in Episode 84, the Pagoda had replaced the Stupa, and was often a reliquary, holding relics of some kind. Then there is the Kondou—literally golden halls, as many of the statues and other artwork would be gilded and designed to reflect light, often shining out from the darkness with the goal of leading more people to consider enlightenment. These are the halls where images are placed—hence the other term, “image hall”—whether metal, wood, stone, et cetera.
The pagoda and the kondou may be areas of personal worship, with believers coming to visit them, perhaps to venerate a particular aspect of the Buddha or contemplate something, and images or particular relics are often ascribed particular spiritual power. Often these are included together or near one another.
On the other hand the koudou, or Lecture Hall, also known as the Ordination Hall, would be the place for sermons and various ceremonies. In many ways these are the “working” areas of a temple, and while they often have images and are ornately adorned, they have, in some ways, a more utilitarian function, and in many early temple layouts they are often held apart from the pagoda and kondou in some way.
At Asukadera, the excavations revealed that it was not planned out in the standard three building model, all lined up, as had been expected. Instead, there was a walled courtyard, with cloisters around the sides and a central gate that led to a pagoda in the middle of the area. Then there were three buildings, identified as individual kondou, or image halls, spaced equally to the left, right, and behind the pagoda. A larger building was then found behind the walled courtyard area, determined to be the temple’s lecture hall. All of this was enclosed in another wall, which seems to have defined the larger area of the temple.
This layout is fairly unique. It doesn’t exactly fit anything we’ve seen in Baekje or Silla temples of the period, and most closely resembles something out of Goguryeo. It may be worth noting that there are records that claim the King of Goguryeo provided funds to help build temples in Japan, and that some of the monks involved, including the monk Eben, or Hyephyeon, who helped initially ordain the Zenshin and her fellow nuns, was said to be a man from Goguryeo, and so may have had some influence on the design.
On the other hand, the rooftiles found at the Asukadera site are very much in the Baekje tradition. Up to this point, there is no indication that the Japanese were using rooftiles in their construction, and were likely using thatching, much as many Shinto shrines continue to use to this day. The use of rooftiles is thought to have started with Buddhist temples, and occurred much earlier than their use in other buildings, including palace buildings. Since rooftiles were ceramic, they required different construction techniques so that the roof could support the weight, which would further explain the need to import craftsmen from the continent to help build these structures.
Rooftiles are not necessarily the most exciting thing for people wandering through a museum. Often one is looking at weapons, jewelry, or haniwa statues, and suddenly you come across a plethora of tiles from different buildings, and it can be easy to just glance past. Without understanding what you are looking at, the rooftiles often seem the same—or same-ish. The majority of the tiles are plain, without much distinction. End tiles—whether round or flat—often have similar decorations, such as lotus flowers, and they are often very similar to one another. Furthermore, these are rarely refined works of art—tiles were meant to be mass produced and were often created quickly to meet the demands of construction.
Despite all of this, I think it is worth recognizing that the rooftiles are often important to helping archaeologists, especially when the rest of the building is no longer extant. Rooftiles often would fall off and get buried, or even be reused in some way to edge a gutter or something similar. However, how they are made, the molds that were used, the composition of the clay, etc. can all be analyzed to provide information about the age and size of a structure, helping to know when different buildings may have been built or rebuilt, as well as providing some information on where the materials were coming from. And for those who want to learn more, you can be sure that every part of a tile has its own specialized name and vocabulary—it is something that you can really delve deep into if that is your thing.
The rooftiles at Asukadera are somewhat odd in that they are not as uniform as one might expect, and this may come from the fact that they had imported different tile makers from Baekje, and so each one set up their workshop with slightly different standards. Later, as Yamato as more temples and other continental style buildings were built, these would become larger, more standardized industries. Still, that they seem to conform to the general patterns found in Baekje speaks, again, to the location that the craftsmen were likely from, as well as the connections mentioned in the texts.
And so we see at least Baekje and possibly Goguryeo influence on the design of this temple.
One other thing that has been found is the stone pedestal for an image in the central image hall. We know that at some point a large image was crafted, and the Asuka Daibutsu, or Giant Buddha Image of Asuka, is still extant, and the stone pedestal was likely where it or a similar image sat at some point. However, just when this image was created and installed is still unknown—there are references to various images, but nothing that can be directly attributed to the current Asuka Daibutsu, though various scholars have identified it as being consistent with the Asuka style from at least the 7th century.
The earliest information talks about the stone Miroku, or Maitreya, image that Kafuka no Omi brought back. It was probably not that large, and it seems that it was eventually enshrined at Asukadera in some form. There are mentions of various icons made in the early 7th century as well, which could refer to this. It is said that it was made in 609 by Kuratsukuri no Tori, though that is not without controversy. It was damaged in a fire in 1196, which was originally thought to have destroyed everything. Indeed, an examination of the image has shown that it appears to have been reconstructed, though there is some evidence that the face and right hand are likely original, while the rest of the body was refashioned, probably from the burnt and melted pieces that were damaged in the fire. It still sits in the Angoin at the modern site of Asukadera, for anyone who wants to come and see it.
Taken together, this can give us some idea of what it took to build the temple. Previous so-called temples appear to be conversions of local buildings, with perhaps some work on building a proper pagoda, but at Asukadera they went full-out to build according to the continental standards. That said, there has been a significant amount of ink spilled over just how this process went.
Based on the Nihon Shoki, it would almost appear that everything arrived, fully formed, at the end of 588. As I’ve noted previously, the way that the Nihon Shoki records read it can sometimes be difficult to figure out exactly what happened when, as a single entry will often contain details that must have happened before or after the date of the entry itself, and it isn’t entirely clear exactly what happened on the referenced date, in many cases. Furthermore, since the Chroniclers were pulling from other sources, there is always the possibility that they, themselves, misinterpreted something. Finally, I would note that their primary goal was to give readers and idea of what happened that conformed with what was known as true and what supported the state institutions. Would it have mattered to them exactly when Asukadera was built, as long as it was generally right and in the regards to the appropriate sovereign and nobles? Probably not.
It likely would have taken some time to pull everything together. There would have been planning sessions, and drawings. They would have to harvest the right kind of wood and shape it based on the designs, and an entire industry of tile-making would have to be set up, likely with local hands learning the process. Similarly, woodcarvers would have already existed, but they would likely need to learn new techniques to account for the continental design. And then there were the various rituals that would need to be carried out. This is all in addition to any stonework, special metalwork, or other such things that had not been previously done in the archipelago. On top of that, there would have been issues of translation, with immigrant artisans directing their various groups of craftsmen.
It is possible that work for planning the temple began as early as 588—which may have just been the request for more craftsmen—and then in 596, when we have textual evidence that some part of the temple was “finished”, that may have been nothing more than the pagoda by that time. It is then unclear whether the other buildings were finished together or in separate phases—perhaps the central image hall was finished, and then the two on the sides of the pagoda were added at a later date. Images may have also been shifted around as new images, like the Asuka Daibutsu, were completed. Many scholars have argued for different interpretations based on their readings of the texts, but none of the evidence is so clear as to be incontrovertible.
What is clear is that this was a grand temple, and that would have been equally clear to everyone who viewed it. Furthermore, this temple was connected directly to Soga no Umako and the Soga family. Something to consider: Just as the giant tomb mounds helped demonstrate the power of various clans based on the work and resources that went into them, a temple like Asukadera would have provided similar cache for the Soga family. This is more than just religious devotion, it was a political statement, made in the heart of the region that Kashikiya Hime was ruling from. Visitors to her palace—not to mention later palaces in the area—would have hardly been able to miss the pagoda and the tiled rooves, and locals would have likely heard the toll of the bell, assuming that both they and Toyouradera had them as the sources mention.
Speaking of Toyouradera, I have less information on that compound, but it seems to have been built sometime later. Kashikiya Hime moved to the new Woharida palace around 603, which would have freed the Toyoura palace buildings to be used for the nunnery. While there is evidence of a pagoda being built, I suspect that it originally reused the old palace buildings, repurposing them, and then would have been built out as time allowed. There is still a temple in Toyoura, and some remains that have been examined, but I am not aware of anything as extensive as the work on Asukadera.
In comparison—and perhaps contrast—to Asukadera is the other temple of this episode: Shitennouji, the temple of the Four Heavenly Kings. Now while many later texts certainly involved both Kashikiya Hime and Prince Umayado in the building of Asukadera, it is clear that Soga no Umako played a leading role—and was probably the primary patron for that temple. In contrast, Shitennouji is directly associated with none other than Prince Shotoku Taishi. It claims to have been founded in 593, based on the account of the Nihon Shoki, and it is said to have been commissioned by Crown Prince Shotoku, aka Prince Umayado, in response to the Four Heavenly Kings’ intervention in the Soga-Mononobe war.
To put some of this in perspective: Prince Umayado is said to have been born in 574, and he would have been a teenager during the Soga-Mononobe war, and would have been about 20 years old or so in 593. Granted, this is Shotoku Taishi we are talking about, and all of the history about him claims that he was quite precocious. It is said that when he was born, his hands were clasped together. Two years later, he opened his hands and it was revealed that he had been born holding a relic of the Buddha, which was later enshrined at the temple of Houryuji.
Speaking of Houryuuji, I’m sure we’ll spend more time on it in a future episode, but here’s what you probably should know for context. Houryuuji was built on the site of Prince Umayado’s Ikaruga palace, and is also said to have been directly patronized by Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi. Furthermore, it has the oldest extant wooden buildings in the world, let alone in Japan. And yet, the Shitenouji temple appears to get more air time in the Chronicles, which may be a factor of several different things, but primarily indicating that Shitenouji and its patrons were ascendant at court at the time that everything was being written down, whereas it appears that Houryuuji may have been rebuilding after a fire, and therefore was not as prominent as it would later be. Either way, I encourage people to visit both to get a better idea of this period.
There is less textual evidence—or perhaps there has simply been less scrutiny—for the founding of Shitenouji, and its position is hardly central to the Yamato court. Nonetheless, it is in a place of prominence, as it was near Naniwa, the port to the Seto Inland Sea and beyond. This was also an area that had a high number of immigrants from the mainland, which I’ll be returning to in a bit.
As I mentioned earlier in this episode, Shitenouji follows what we might consider a more traditional design. Entering through the central gate, one comes upon the five storied pagoda, behind which stands the kondou, or image hall. All of this is surrounded by a cloistered wall, which encircles both until you get to the north end, where the wall terminates at the koudou, or lecture hall. The buildings are brightly painted and decorated in red, green, and white—colors that would have likely adorned Asukadera’s posts as well, and which we see in many later temples and images. In fact, the image of a Buddhist temple as brown and plain comes later, likely originating with just the ravages of time and the lack of funding to keep up with the paint, which was originally said to help preserve the wood and prevent damage from insects. Eventually, some sects would come to prefer the more subdued image brought about by natural wood, creating a new aesthetic that continues to be popular. Today you can find a variety of different temple buildings from different eras, some of which maintain the bright colors that would have likely been part of any early temple.
There have been some excavations around Shitenouji, which appear to confirm that the shape has remained roughly the same over the centuries, from what I can tell. The buildings themselves have been rebuilt over the years, but maintain a certain characteristic that seems appropriate to the early temple period. This may be due to the fact that the temple has retained the services of a family of temple builders that continue to operate as a business, even today. Kongou Gumi claims that it was founded in 578, when craftsmen were brought from Baekje to help build temples in Japan, making it the oldest company in the world, though it is now a subsidiary company of the Takamatsu Construction Group. They continue to specialize in traditional temple, shrine, and castle construction, preserving ancient techniques, but also employing modern materials, such as concrete and rebar, where appropriate.
While they were specific to Shitennouji, they were not exclusive, and in the 16th century they helped rebuild Osaka castle. They have repeatedly rebuilt Shitennouji and maintained it through the years, even after it has, at times, been completely destroyed by fire or even typhoon.
The story of Shitennouji’s founding we talked about in the episode on the Soga-Mononobe War, but to quickly recount: The young Shotoku Taishi crafted figures of the four Heavenly kings and prayed for a Soga victory, promising to build a temple if they won. The Soga did win, and so he followed through by building this temple, using land taken from the Mononobe during the war.
So who were the Four Heavenly Kings? Why didn’t he just pray to the Buddha?
The Four Heavenly Kings are gods from India that were transmitted along with Buddhism as Buddhist Deities. They are:
Vaisravana, aka Tamonten, in the north
Virudhaka, aka Zouchouten, in the south
Dhrtarastra, aka Jikokuten, in the east
And Virupaksa, aka Koumokuten, the west.
In general, if you are at a Japanese temple, and you see the name end with “Ten” it may be referring to one of the various Heavenly Kings.
The four heavenly kings are devas, and included as four of the 20 or 24 devas who manifest to protect the Dharma. Given their role in protecting the various cardinal directions, they became popular in East Asian Buddhism, and show up in various Mahayana texts, but they also appear in Theravada traditions as well. It is unclear exactly when and how they became associated with Buddhism, though it wasn’t uncommon for Buddhism to co-opt various gods and deities and turn them into aspects of the Buddha, Boddhisatvas, or, as in this case, protectors of Buddhism. We see similar things happen in the archipelago as various kami are, on occasion, given Buddhist aspects and accepted as defenders of Buddhism.
It appears that they have a particular place in the Konkoumyou Sutra, or Sutra of Golden Light, which is where they appear to have entered East Asian Buddhism. This sutra may have been translated as early as the 5th century, though the Nihon Shoki uses quotes that appear to come from a translation likely made around the 7th or 8th century, which was likely popular at the time that the Nihon Shoki was being compiled. Not only that, but later in the 8th century, various Kokubunji, or provincial temples, would be set up under state sponsorship, in part to create spiritual protection for the realm, and these were specifically set up as temples of the Four Heavenly Kings. So we can see that belief in the efficacy of the Four Heavenly Kings was important around the time that the Chronicles were being compiled.
In addition, Shitennouji is heavily influenced by what some call the “Cult” of “Shotoku Taishi”. Again, by the time that the Nihon Shoki was being compiled, Prince Umayado had already been lifted up on a pedestal and turned into something more than just a Prince—however influential he may have been. He became known as the Father of Buddhism, and the Father of the Nation, having also played a part—we are told—in the creation of the first ever 17 article constitution. He was a Soga relative but he was not, importantly, a member of the direct Soga line, which would land on hard times just a few generations later and be on the political outs.
Michael Como, in his book on Shotoku Taishi, also points out that Shitennouji was associated with the Abe family and with various lineages with ties specifically to Silla, including groups like the Hata—although the layout of the temple still accords with Baekje temple design, as far as I can tell. Still, by the 8th century in particular, Shitennouji and similar temples claiming sponsorship or connections to Shotoku Taishi appear to have had connections with lineages descending from or with connections to Silla.
Spoiler alert: Silla would eventually take over the entire Korean Peninsula, and therefore, by the 8th century, there were no new “Baekje” or “Goguryeo” immigrants—anyone coming over was from Silla. And Michael Como points out that there seems to have been a bit of a political rift and distinction between Silla descended lineage groups and Baekje descended lineage groups. Asukadera and the Soga family—and even Shotoku Taishi’s temple of Houryuuji—appear to have been firmly attached to the Baekje lineages, whom they had sponsored to come over to help them promote Buddhism, but by the 8th century, Silla-backed groups were more dominant. He points to a “split” in the Shotoku Taishi worship, with the Silla-backed temples dominating the narrative in the 8th century and beyond.
This may also play into the story of the founding of Shitennouji, as there is a similar story in the Samguk Yusa, as Como points out. In it, the King prays to the Heavenly Kings for victory against the Tang, and that same King is said to have built the Sacheonwang Temple in the Silla capital of Gyeongju. This temple would become a model for later temples in Silla, and introduced a layout with two pagodas, rather than one. We see this pattern arrive in the archipelago, influencing temples like Yakushiji, in modern Nara.
Unfortunately, this all seems to just muddy the waters. I think we can probably say that the founding of Shitennouji by a young Shotoku Taishi, while possible, seems a bit sus. Sure, I guess they could have built a temple on the land taken from the Mononobe—it would have been quite the statement given that the Mononobe had been so anti-Buddhism, at least according to the textual records. But was it originally dedicated to the Four Heavenly Kings? Or did that part come later, as the texts on the Four Heavenly Kings grew more popular?
I suspect that the temple, which seems laid out in the standard Baekje style, was no doubt one of the early temples, and it may even have been built on Mononobe property. But the association with Shitennouji—and the legend of Shotoku Taishi—probably came later. It was in a great position, however, to gain patronage from newly arrived immigrants, as the port of Naniwa would have been one of the more cosmopolitan locations, and after the downfall of Baekje and Goguryeo, most of those people crossing the sea would have identified with Silla.
Regardless of the legends behind it, Shitennouji does appear to have a claim to be one of the oldest temples in Japan, and shortly after it was built—or at least they started work on the temple—we are told that Kashikiya Hime told Shotoku Taishi to aggressively promote Buddhism, which seems to have kicked off a temple-building fad. No doubt the prestige that came from being connected with a temple like Asukadera or Shitennouji had some small part to play in that.
Temples would become another source of spiritual, and thus political, power, for various kinship groups, much as shrines and kofun were as well. In fact, the temple building craze is often seen as the beginning of the end of the Kofun period. All of the money and resources that were poured into temple building—whether as private projects or as state sponsored projects—would put a huge drain on the labor pool for things like monumental tombs. In addition, as Buddhist theology took hold, a dedicatory temple was, in many ways, more useful, as it could be a way of building merit for the dead, as opposed to simply building giant tomb mounds. That doesn’t mean it ended immediately, but as I’ve mentioned before we start to see the tomb sizes shrink. Nothing would rival the middle kofun era building projects, and there would be a greater focus on building things like temples.
I also suspect that this new style of construction may have had other knock on effects as well. Grand buildings such as those built for temples, and later palaces, were not quite so easy to dismantle and reassemble elsewhere. These were major construction projects and the materials were now heavier, especially those tiled roofs. Not that it was “easy” to just build a palace in the older style, but it was clearly something that could be done quickly if necessary, as shown with the construction of various temporary buildings for envoys and the like—or even the decision to move to a new palace part way through a reign. These new buildings weren’t the same, and we can see how, when Asukadera was moved up to Nara—where it is known as Gankouji—they clearly left many of the buildings and materials behind and likely built new buildings in the new capital. Giant images would also have been difficult to transport, and probably easier to just commission a new one. Had Asukadera, aka Houkouji, not burned down and been generally neglected by the court, which by then had moved on to Heian-kyo, then perhaps it would have retained some of the buildings, as Houryuuji, did. Unfortunately, it did burn down, and so today is only a shadow of what it once was—though still worth a visit, in my opinion.
And that’s where we’ll wrap things up for now. Until next time, then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode.
Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.
And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

McCallum, Donald F. (2009). The Four Great Temples: Buddhist Archaeology, Architecture, and Icons of Seventh-Century Japan. ISBN 978-0-8248-3114-1
Como, Michael (2008). Shōtoku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition. ISBN 978-0-19-518861-5
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

Episode 96: From the Land Where the Sun Rises

October 16, 2023 Joshua Badgley

Figurine of a court official from the Sui Dynasty. This is the kind of dress that envoys like Pei Shiqing wore, and it would eventually influence the court dress of Japan. Photo by author. Figurine from the Indianapolis Museum of Art.

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This episode we look at the Sui Dynasty and the famous exchange between the Sui and Yamato. The Sui Dynasty is relatively short-lived—only two rulers to speak of, it lasted from 581 to 618, so not quite forty years. And yet, in that time, they accomplished a lot and set the stage for the later Tang Dynasty.

It is hard to say exactly when many of the various influences came over to Yamato, but we can see in the art and literature many things that we also find in Japan. Below are the sun and moon, represented by a rabbit with a mortar and pestle and a three legged bird. These are both from the Northern Zhou period, just preceding the Sui dynasty. Combined with Buddhism and all of the trappings of the court, even if the Sui dynasty would not last, Yamato was only absorbing more and more of the continental culture, and that would continue into the Tang dynasty.

Image of what appears to be a rabbit with a mortar and pestle, representing the moon—an image also found in Japan event today.

The three legged bird in the sun, often used in Japan to represent the Yatagarasu that guided Jimmu.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 96: From the Land Where the Sun Rises.
Once again, we are still talking about the reign of Kashikiya Hime, from the late 6th to early 7th century. This time, though, we are going to take a quick diversion from Yamato and first look at what was going on over on the continent, in the area of the Yellow and Yangzi River Basins—the area of the so-called “middle country”. This is, after all, where a lot of the philosophy and other things that the archipelago was importing came from, so what was going on over there?
Back in Episode 73, ee talked about the various northern and southern dynasties in the Yellow and Yangzi River Basins. To sum up, during that period, the eastern area of modern China was split between a variety of dynasties, many of them short-lived, and many of them—especially in the north—were dynasties from outside of the main Han ethnic group.
Up through the early 580’s, the dynasty in charge of the Yellow River region was the Northern Zhou, one of the many dynasties in the north descended from the nomadic Xianbei ethnic groups. Though their aristocracy was a mix of multiple ethnicities that had intermarried over the years, the Northern Zhou celebrated their Xianbei roots, often to the detriment of ethnic Han groups. They had inherited the territory of the Western Wei, including much of the central Yangzi region down to Sichuan. They then defeated the Northern Qi in 577 and claimed dominion over all of the Yellow River region in the north of modern China. Their only rival was the Chen dynasty, along the eastern reaches of the Yangzi river, but the Chen themselves were relatively weak, and it was only the power struggles within the Northern Zhou court that kept them from wiping out the Chen completely.
In 581, the Northern Zhou suffered a coup d’etat. Yang Jian was a Northern Zhou general, and his family, the Yang clan, had Han origins but had intermarried with the Xianbei as well, creating a truly mixed lineage. Jian also held some sway at court, and was known as the Duke of Sui—his daughter was the Empress Dowager, and her stepson was the young Emperor Jing. In 581 Yang Jian usurped power from his step-grandson, the child emperor Jing, and placed himself on the throne, taking the name Emperor Wen of Sui, using his previous title as the name of the new dynasty.
He killed off fifty-nine princes of the previous Northern Zhou, and began to consolidate his power. By 587, he had strengthened his position, and by 588 invasion of the Chen territories began under Prince Yang Guang. By 589, the Chen were defeated and any attempts at rebellion were put down, giving the Sui dynasty full control of northern and southern regions—from the Yellow and Yangzi Rivers down to the Sichuan basin.
Although, as I noted, the Yang family had intermarried with the Xianbei families of the Northern Zhou, they still retained some connection with their Han roots, and Emperor Wen won over the Han Confucian scholars with reforms to the rank system and at least a nod towards getting rid of nepotism and corruption that had taken hold in the Northern Zhou and previous dynasties. He reinstituted Han dynasty titles and restored the nine rank system. He also reinstituted a system of impartial judges to seek out talent and moved towards the idea of an examination system—something that would really take hold in later centuries.
Furthermore, while he set himself up in the northern capital of Daxingcheng, aka Chang’an, he helped rebuild the southern capital, naming it Dayang. He also supported Buddhism and Daoism. He became a patron of southern Buddhist monasteries, and recognized major temples as state-sponsored institutions—a far cry from the suppression attempts in the north in 574 and 578.
Emperor Wen also worked on repairing canals along the Yellow River. These canals, which allowed easy transport of goods, regularly silted up without maintenance, and the dikes on either side could break, flooding the land on either side. They had been neglected during many of the short-lived reigns up to this point, with perhaps a few exceptions when things got really bad. However, Emperor Wen began work to fix these old canals and thus improve the flow of goods and services.
Given all of this - his patronage of Buddhism and Daoism, as well as his attempt to resurrect the Han dynasty and the Confucian principles that underlay its government, as well as the public works that he instituted, Yang Jian, aka Emperor Wen of Sui, is remembered as the Cultured Emperor—despite that fact the had started out as a blood-soaked general who had secured his usurpation with a not inconsiderable amount of murder. Sima Guang, writing from the Song dynasty, centuries later, praised Emperor Wen for all he did to grow the Sui, uniting north and south, supporting the people, and helping the country to prosper as it rarely has before. And yet, Sima Guang also says that in his personal life he was mean and stingy and paranoid—afraid that everyone was out to get him. Given the life he’d lived, that would make some sense. Still, he seems to have been good for his people, in the long run.
But this wasn’t to last. In 604, Emperor Wen fell ill and died. Or at least that is the official story. Another says that he had grown angry over some event and was about to disinherit the crown prince, Yang Guang, who sent someone to kill his father. That is a very abbreviated version of the story, and, as I said, it is not without controversy.
However he died, his son, Yang Guang, succeeded him to the throne and became known as Emperor Yang. Emperor Yang continued to expand the empire, and under his dynasty the Sui would attain their greatest extent yet. He rebuilt parts of the Great Wall, and expanded the borders south, into modern Vietnam, as well as up to the borders with Goguryeo. He also continued the work his father had begun on canals, eventually undertaking the creation of the Grand Canal, which would connect the Yellow and Yangzi Rivers. No longer would the two be separate, forced to send goods out to sea or over treacherous land routes to get from one river basin to another. Now they could sail ships straight from one river to the other—an impressive feat that you can still see today in parts of modern China. The project would forever change the landscape of China, both literally and figuratively. It connected the north and south, leading to greater political, economic, and cultural unity between the two regions. It would connect the culture and economic resources of the south with the military institutions of the north.

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

References

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.
Kawagoe, Aileen (2009). “Caps and court rank: the Kan’i junikai system”. Heritage of Japan. Retrieved 10/1/2023.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Tsunoda, Ryusaku (1951). Japan in the Chinese Dynastic Histories: Later Han Through the Ming Dynasties. Perkins Asiatic Monographs Number 2

Episode 95: Cap Ranks and the 17 Article Constitution

October 1, 2023 Joshua Badgley

Site of one of the palaces found in Asuka, possibly the site of Kashikiya Hime’s palace, which would have been the center of the court activity.

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Twelve Level Cap Rank System

The kan’i-junikai (冠位十二階) is the term used for the rank system developed in this period. It resembles systems in Baekje, Goguryeo, and in various other states. It applied specifically to those individuals connected with the court.

In this early system, it was not necessarily a numerical system. That is to say, later court ranks would literally be “Rank 1” to “Rank 9”, often with various other divisions in each rank.

The ranks are as follows:

Daitoku (大徳) - Greater Virtue
Shōtoku (小徳) - Lesser Virtue
Dainin (大仁) - Greater Humanity
Shōnin (小仁) - Lesser Humanity
Dairai (大礼) - Greater Propriety
Shōrai (小礼) - Lesser Propriety
Daishin (大信) - Greater Faith
Shōnin (小信) - Lesser Faith
Daigi (大義) - Greater Justice
Shōgi (小義) - Lesser Justice
Daichi (大智) - Greater Wisdom
Shōchi (小智) - Lesser Wisdom

Each rank was indicated by a particular cap—the Sui history says “it was made of brocade and colored silk and decorated with gold and silver inlaid flowers.” (Tsunoda 1951). Each cap was a particular color to indicate the rank, but the specific color isn’t mentioned. There are several theories as to what specific colors they used, but nothing definitive that has been set down. Our founder, Tony Bryant, used one theory for our suggested chart, but even that is just supposition.

Seventeen Article Constitution

The Seventeen Article Constitution is said to be the first written legal code of Japan. We go over it in the podcast, but here’s a summary:

Harmony is to be valued
Reverence the Three Treasures
Obey the sovereign’s commands
Ministers should act with decorum
Ministers should deal impartially with suits submitted to them
Chastise what is evil and encourage that which is good
Let everyone have their own charge, and let not the spheres of duty be confused
Let the ministers and functionaries arrive early and retire late
Good faith is the foundation of right
Let us cease from wrath, and refrain from angry looks
Keep track of merit or demerit and reward or punish appropriately
Don’t let the local lords levy taxes – that is for the central government alone
Everyone employed in an official office should attend diligently to their functions
Be not envious
The path of the minister is to turn away from that which is private and focus on the publ ic
Only conscript people into forced labor at the right times
Discuss weighty matters with a group, don’t make big decisions just by one person

For a full look at each article, a copy of the Aston translation can be found here: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Seventeen-article_constitution

You can also search the online copy of the Nihon Shoki at the Japanese Historical Text Initiative, which includes search features and the original text.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 96: From the Land Where the Sun Rises.
We are still talking about the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno, from the late 6th to the early 7th century. We’ve been covering discussions of the continental influences on the archipelago, especially as they adopted more and more continental practices—both religion and government. This episode we are going to continue the discussion regarding Yamato’s interactions, specifically a notably famous trip to the continent and Yamato’s apparent assumption of equality between their ruler, the Ohokimi, and the Emperor of the Sui dynasty—the Son of Heaven. We’ll also touch on the changes Japan was adopting in their own government as a result of greater adoption of continental philosophy. These are largely seen as a Sinification—a trend towards a more “Chinese” style system—but I want to emphasize that a lot of this was filtered through the lens of the states on the Korean peninsula: Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla. This is one of the reasons I hesitate to just call it “Chinese”, as Yamato was really blending aspects of several cultural influences, as well as adding their own spice to the sauce.
Hence, last episode we talked about Yamato’s contact with the continent—specifically the Korean Peninsula—and the various diplomatic gifts, often put in terms of “tribute”, that came over. Besides a small menagerie of exotic animals and Buddhist statues, there were learned monks and various books conveying continental teachings. At the same time that Yamato was starting to experiment with a new, foreign religion—Buddhism—they began to experiment with other foreign concepts as well. They had members of the court studying specific disciplines, and presumably passing those on to others.
I want to go more in depth into just what Yamato did and how they trans
(Touch on the Rank System and the 17 Article Constitution once again)
Now these 17 articles were almost all based on Confucian or Buddhist philosophy; clearly the Court was looking to the continent more and more for inspiration on how to govern, especially as it further expanded and solidified its grasp across the archipelago. Up to this point, much of that innovation had come through the Korean peninsula, by way of Silla, Goguryeo, and, most prominently, their ally Baekje. But no doubt they recognized that much of what was influencing those kingdoms had, itself, come from even farther away.
And so, this reign, the Chronicles record that Yamato once again sent envoys beyond their peninsular neighbors all the way to the Middle Country itself. This is significant as they were making direct contact with the mighty empire, the source of so many of the philosophical and scientific innovations that Yamato was trying to adopt. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, of course—we know of the cases of state of Na contacting the Han court, and then Himiko of the Wa during the Wei period, as well as several missions immediately after Himiko’s death. We also know of the five kings of Wa who reached out to the Liu Song court, though the Chronicles themselves are often silent on actual embassies, making it hard to tell exactly which reigns that occurred in, though it is generally agreed that one of those “Five Kings” was none other than Wakatakiru himself, Yuuryaku Tennou.
There may have been other missions. There seems to be some discussion amongst the Liang dynasty records that may indicate greater contact with Japan, but again, we don’t necessarily see that in the records themselves. Furthermore, with the fractured nature of the various dynasties since the Han period, and the various conflicts on the peninsula and in the archipelago, it would be understandable if there hadn’t been much direct diplomatic contact since about the time of Wakatakiru.
And so it is a pretty big thing that we not only have an envoy around the year 608, but that there appears to be agreement for it in the Sui history—though there is one glaring mistake: in the Nihon Shoki they clearly say that they sent envoys to the “Great Tang”, and not the Sui. However, this is fairly easily explained. By the 8th century, as the records were being compiled, the Tang dynasty was, indeed, in control of the Chinese court. In fact, the Tang dynasty was so admired by the Japanese of the day that even now the term “Karafu”, or “Chinese style”, uses the character for the Tang dynasty, rather than the Han. On the one hand it seems as though the scholars of the 8th century would surely have known of the Sui dynasty coming before the Tang, but it is also understandable that anyone would have just thought of the successive courts as a single continuity. Either way, I’ll talk about the Sui dynasty, and it is in the Sui dynasty records that we find the corresponding description of this embassy.
It starts on the 3rd day of the 7th month of 607. The Chronicles tell us that Wono no Omi no Imoko was sent to the Sui court, taking along Kuratsukuri no Fukuri as an interpreter. As you may recall, the Kuratsukuri, or saddle-makers, claimed a descent from Shiba Tattou, himself from the continent. It would make sense to take someone who could actually speak the language or, failing that, read and write it. This was a peculiar function of the Chinese language, since the various dialects, though often mutually unintelligible, still use the same characters.
Imoko, by the way, may have also had connections, but in this case it was to the Soga. We are told in the Nihon Shoki that Imoko was known in the Sui Court as “So Imko”, and the “So” character is the same as the first character in the name “Soga”. It is possible that Imoko was, indeed, a Soga family member, and the name Wono no Omi may have come later. Or it is possible that he was forgotten for some reason.
In the Sui history, we are told that in the year 607 there was an envoy sent with tribute from King Tarashihoko, which may have been another name for Kashikiya Hime, or perhaps it was simply an error caused by the problems with attempting to record foreign names in Sinitic characters.
According to the history as translated by Tsunoda Ryusaku and L. Carrington Goodrich, the envoy from Yamato explained the situation as such: “The King has heard that to the west of the ocean a Boddhisattva of the Sovereign reveres and promotes Buddhism. Accompanying the embassy are several tens of monks who have come to study Buddhism.” This is great as we see some of the things that the Japanese scholars left out—that there were Buddhists on this mission. For many, getting to the monasteries and temples of the Middle Kingdom was almost as good as making the trip all the way to India.
Over all, the embassy appears to have been largely successful in their mission. The ambassador, Imoko, came back with an envoy from the Sui, Pei Shiqing, along with twelve other individuals.
According to the Sui dynasty history, they first headed to Baekje, reaching the island of Chiku, and then, after seeing Tara in the south, they passed Tsushima and sailed out in to the deep ocean, eventually landing on the island of Iki. From there they made it to Tsukushi, and on to Suwo. They then passed through some ten countries until they came to the shore.
Now, Naniwa no Kishi no Wonari had been sent to bring them to court and they had a new official residence erected for them in Naniwa—modern Ohosaka. When they arrived, on the 15th day of the 6th month of the year 608, Yamato sent out thirty heavily decorated boats to meet them—and no doubt to make an impression as well. They met them at Yeguchi, the mouth of the river and they were ensconced in the newly built official residence.
Official entertainers were appointed for the ambassadors—Nakatomi no Miyatoko no Muraji no Torimaro, Ohohoshi no Kawachi no Atahe no Nukade, and Fume no Fumibito no Oohei. Meanwhile, Imoko continued on to the court proper to report on his mission.
Unfortunately, for all of the goodness that came from the whole thing, the trip had not been completely flawless. The Sui court had entrusted Imoko with a letter to pass on to the Yamato court, but the return trip through Baekje proved… problematic, to say the least. We are told that men of Baekje stopped the party, searched them, and confiscated the letter. It is unclear whether these were Baekje officials or just some bandits, but the important thing was that Imoko had lost the message, which was a grave offense. The ministers suggested that, despite all of his success, Imoko should be banished for losing the letter. After all, it was the duty of an envoy to protect the messages between the courts at all costs.
In the end, it was agreed that, yes, Imoko should be punished, but that it would be a bad look in front of their guests. After all, he had just represented them to the Sui Court, and so Kashikiya Hime pardoned Imoko of any wrongdoing.
A couple months later, on the 3rd day of the 8th month, the preparations had been made and the envoys formally approached the palace. There were met on the Tsubaki no Ichi road by 75 well-dress horses—the Sui history says two hundred—and there Nukada no Muraji no Hirafu welcomed them all with a speech.
After finally reaching the location of the palace, it was nine more days before they were formally summoned to present themselves and state their reason for coming. Abe no Tori no Omi and Mononobe no Yosami no no Muraji no Idaku acted as “introducers” for the guests, announcing who they were to the court. Then Pei Shiqing had the various diplomatic gifts arranged in the courtyard, and then presented his credentials to the court. Then, bowing twice, he gave his own account of why he had been sent—he announced greetings from the Sui emperor, recognized the work of Imoko, and then provided an excuse that the emperor himself could not make it due to his poor health. That last bit I suspect was a polite fiction, or perhaps an erroneous addition by the Chroniclers. After all, it isn’t like the Sui emperors were in the habit of just flouncing off to an unknown foreign land—especially one across the sea.
After delivering some polite niceties, Shiqing also provided a detailed list of all of the diplomatic gifts that they had brought.
The dance that happened next is telling. In order to convey Pei Shiqing’s letter to the sovereign, it wasn’t like they could just hand it. There were levels of protocol and procedure that had to be observed, and so Abe no Omi took the letter up and handed it to Ohotomo no Kurafu no Muraji, who in turn placed it on a table in front of the Great gate where Kashikiya Hime could then get it. This setup is similar to the later court, where only certain individuals of rank were actually allowed up into the buildings of the palace, whereas others were restricted to the ground.
After that formal introduction, there was a month or more of parties for the envoys, until finally they had to return to the Sui court. When they departed, they were sent with eight students and Imoko, who was bringing another letter to the Sui Court. The students were all scheduled to study various disciplines and bring the knowledge back to the Yamato court. But that wasn’t quite so special, or at least we aren’t given much more on the specifics of what the students brought back.. What really stands out in the Sui histories is the contents of the formal letter that Imoko was carrying, as it had a phrase that will be familiar to many students of this period of history, and which really connects across the Japanese and Sui histories, despite other inconsistencies. It read: “The Son of Heaven in the land where the sun rises addresses a letter to the Son of Heaven in the land where the sun sets. We hope you are in good health.” Or at least, that is how the Sui histories record it. In the Nihon Shoki they say something similar, “The Emperor of the East respectfully addresses the Emperor of the West.” Here, rather than using “Child of Heaven”, the author made use of the term “Tennou” when referring to the Yamato sovereign, and then different characters were used for the Sui emperor. At the same time, that is one of the reasons that I give more credence to the Sui history.. Of course, however you slice and dice this thing, there are some major airs being taken by the sovereign. Thus it is no wonder that, when the Sui emperor heard this, he was displeased, to say the least, and he told his minister that the letter was discourteous and should never again be brought to his attention. So that’s a whole mood.
The reason for this may be obvious, as the letter paints the sovereign of Japan as equal to the emperor of the Sui dynasty. That was indeed a bold claim. There is also the fact that they claim to be the land where the sun rises while the Sui are the land where the sun sets, which may have just been referencing east and west in a poetic fashion, but on another level it is almost as if they were talking about the rise of Yamato and the fall, or setting, of the Sui.
I would note that we still don’t see the term “Land of the Rising Sun”, or “Nihon”, used for the name of the country yet—one of the reasons I continue to refer to Yamato and not just “Japan”. However, all of this is in keeping with the traditions of the Wa people as we know them—the sun was given a special place in their worldview, as demonstrated linguistically, and not just through the legends curated in the 8th century. The Nihon Shoki mentions this letter, but not for this first
Certainly, as Japan continued to take on more and more trappings of the continental courts, they would eventually even take on the term Tennou—also read in Japanese as Sumera no Mikoto—to refer to the sovereign. This is basically saying that the sovereign is, indeed, a Heavenly Son, and which they would come to translate as “emperor”, in English. There would be other terminology and trappings that would reinforce this concept, which placed the sovereign of Japan in a position that at least locally seemed to be much more prestigious.
Imoko came back from this last diplomatic mission and was well beloved—some later sources even suggest that he may have been promoted for his diplomatic efforts. Oddly, however, we don’t really hear more, if anything, about Imoko, and he fades back into the past.
And so that covers much of the story of what Yamato was borrowing form the Sui and others during this period. Next episode—well, I’m honestly not sure what we’ll be covering next, as there is just so much. But stick around.
Until next time, then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode.
Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.
And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

Lurie, D. B. (2011). Realms of Literacy: Early Japan and the History of Writing. Harvard University Asia Center. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt1x07wq2
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.
Kawagoe, Aileen (2009). “Caps and court rank: the Kan’i junikai system”. Heritage of Japan. Retrieved 10/1/2023.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

Rough Transcript

References

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References

Twelve Level Cap Rank System

Seventeen Article Constitution

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References