This episode we set the stage for one of the most momentous conflicts of the 6th century.  A lot of change is coming to the islands, and the outcome of the power struggles would determine just what shape that change would take.

For more see our podcast webpage:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-90

 

Rough Transcript

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 90: Setting the Stage

So when last we left off, the sovereign Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou, had passed away, and there had been some early flirting with Buddhism, which largely ended up pitting members of the relatively new Soga family against the powerful forces of the ancient Mononobe, as well as their allies, the Nakatomi.  It even got so bad that the heads of the two houses, Soga no Umako and Mononobe no Moriya, were openly mocking each other at the sovereign’s funeral.  And unfortunately, things weren’t getting better any time soon.

In fact, I should probably warn you that around this point in the narrative we are really going to get all Game of Thrones on the archipelago.  Family against family, sibling against sibling, with deadly political intrigue.  And as we get into it, we should talk about a few things up front to help put everything in context.

So let’s come back up to speed on the situation, shall we?  In the late 6th century, the royal court was in its third dynasty.  The sovereign, Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou,  died from a plague that settled on the land.  Across the straits, the once small kingdom of Silla was on the rise, having gobbled up the small polities around it, including Yamato’s apparent ally, Nimna.  Now the southern peninsula was largely divided between two kingdoms, Silla and Baekje.  Both were in contact with the Yamato court.  And then there is the far distant northern power of Goguryeo, pressing southward themselves.

Yamato’s involvement on the peninsula meant there was quite a bit of cross-strait intercourse—in more ways than one.  There were Wa on the peninsula, but there were also groups of Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo men and women who settled in the archipelago.  They brought with them various innovations and ways of thinking.  One of these things was the concept of corporate “Be” families.  Now, don’t get me wrong, there clearly were families in the archipelago and had been for some time, but at some point we see the literal creation of the official families, the Uji: Groups of people who shared a similar job, gathered together under a family head, who in turn was given a place in the Yamato court.  The family then regulated the business of its members to the benefit of the court.  These created families, usually marked with the suffix of “Be”, became an outgrowth of the court’s power, and they were in turn ranked with a collectivist title, or “kabane”.  The highest ranking uji were given the titles of “Muraji” and “Omi”, and the heads of those households were known as the “Ohomuraji” and the “Ohoomi”.

One of the oldest of these families, on one side of this growing interal conflict, was known as the Mononobe.  They claimed a likely fictional descent from Nigi Hayahi, a “Heavenly grandchild”, similar to the ancestor of the royal family, Ninigi no Mikoto - an illustrious backstory that no doubt helped justify their position.  As for the rest, well, “Mononobe” literally translates to “the be of things” … and in this case, those things were weapons, reflecting a historical role of this important family as the enforcers and the heavyweights of the Yamato court.   Of course, they weren’t the only ones with access to troops and weapons, as we’ve seen various families raising troops to go fight on the continent, and one can only assume that most powerful individuals at least had those they could call upon in case things got physical.  For all that administrative power was rooted in spiritual authority, physical power was also important, and we see this in the way that armor and swords were important elite grave goods, and not just for a single family.

But few groups were so clearly tied to the exercise of martial power as were the Mononobe.  And they wielded that power on the behalf of the sovereign and the State.  Whether it was punishing rebels, or just executing the cruel whims of a violent and entitled ruler, the Mononobe were the ones, more often than not, knocking down your door in the middle of the night and dragging off those deemed enemies of the state.

This position was such that you can see evidence of it in the earliest parts of the Chronicles.  For example, the Mononobe are connected to their ancestral shrine of Isonokami, one of the oldest shrines mentioned.  It was said to be the home of the sword that Susanoo no Mikoto, the wild brother of Amaterasu, used to slay the giant, 8-headed serpent, Yamata no Orochi, generally seen as a metaphor for Yamato conquering parts of Izumo.  Then there were the piles of swords made and stored at the shrine, which make it sound less like a place of spiritual worship and more like an armory—though let’s face it, for some people those are basically one and the same.

Add to that all of the times that the Mononobe were called upon to unalive some opponent to the throne, and we get a pretty clear picture of how they had for so long held a place at the very top of the court structure.

On the other side is the Soga family, currently personified with Soga no Umako at their head.  While the Soga certainly traced their lineage back a respectable distance, including to Takechi no Sukune and others, at this point they are clearly relatively new, with their earliest mention coming in the reign of Wakatakiru, aka Yuryaku Tenno, in the late 5th century, about 100 years before,  and they had no clear spiritual center of note, at least in the Chronicles.  One source of their power and authority came through their connections with the continent, primarily with Baekje, and related families. 

The other part was through their marriages, especially the daughters of Soga no Iname.  Up to this point, the descendants of Wohodo no Ohokimi, aka Keitai Tennō, had been ensuring that their queens were members of the previous dynasty.  This gave them and their offspring connections back to those other lineages helping bolster their claims to an unbroken lineage and their right to rule over Yamato.  While the sovereigns might marry daughters of other houses, those wouldn’t typically be named as queens, although they might be expected to raise royal princes and maybe future queens.  Often these were political marriages that enhanced the court’s connections to various regions.  A few particularly influential family names also appear, such as Katsuraki, Okinaga, and the Wani no Omi. 

Still, the success of those families pales next to what Soga no Iname enjoyed in a single reign.  Soga no Iname had achieved what few others had.  He was the head of his family, one of the few of the Omi, or ministerial, kabane; and he had the personal title of Sukune, one of the highest honorifics attainable by an individual.  Both of those spoke to his power at court.  And when he passed away, he was succeeded in his post by his son, Soga no Umako, who was also made Ohoomi and who also held the honorific of Sukune.  Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, Soga no Iname married two of his daughters (Umako’s sisters), Kitashi Hime and Wonane Gimi, to Ame Kunioshi, that is, Kimmei Tennou.  Both of them had a number of sons who were also royal princes.  And one of Kitashi Hime’s daughters, Kashikiya Hime, then went on to marry Ame Kunioshi’s son and successor (and her own half-brother), Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou – and when Nunakura’s own wife passed on, he elevated Kashikiya Hime to the rank of queen.

Long story short, the immediate children and grandchildren of Soga no Iname were in a great position.  Soga no Umako was a powerful person at court, and brother and uncle not just to a number of the royal princes of Ame Kuniyoshi’s line, but to Nunakura’s queen as well, which gave him some powerful sway.  We are also told that he had taken as his wife the younger sister of Mononobe no Moriya, likely as an attempt to bring the two families closer together.  Spoiler alert:  it didn’t.

All of those royal princes of Soga descent would not have been eligible for the throne under normal circumstances.  But here’s where things get a little dicey.  Nunakura had been the son of Ame Kunioshi and Ishi Hime, who was, herself, the daugther of former sovereign Takewo Hiro Kunioshi.  Of course Takewo’s mother had come from the Owari no Muraji, a sister clan to the Mononobe, but the Nihon Shoki glosses over that by claiming Takewo was just holding the throne until his more legitimate brother was ready.  Still, long story short, Nunakura was the direct descendant of at least two previous sovereigns, so one would imagine that he would be succeeded by his son, Hikobito no Ohine, son of Nunakura and his previous Queen, Hiro Hime. 

And yet, Hikobito was probably relatively young, and besides Nunakura there were numerous other sons of Ame Kunioshi – conveniently, for the Soga, through his Soga descended wives.  One was Kashikiya Hime’s brother, Tachibana no Toyohi, and there were also her half-brothers from her aunt, Wonane Gimi, including Princes Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko and Hatsusebe—or just Hasebe—no Miko.  Remember that there is no such thing at this point as primogeniture—it doesn’t matter if you are the oldest son of the previous sovereign, and the throne commonly passed to brothers before it went to sons and nephews.

Finally, there is Kashikiya Hime herself, niece of Soga no Umako and newly elevated queen of Nunakura.  While some women may have been content to simply raise the future generation of sovereigns, there is plenty to indicate that Kashikiya Hime was a highly political animal in her own right.  On top of that, although her grandfather had passed away, her uncle, Soga no Umako, had taken his place at one of the top spots in court.  She was around 34 years old when she became queen, and 42 when Nunakura passed away.  She knew the ins and outs of the court, and she seems to have favored her uncle and her Soga family.

And so, when Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou, died of plague, the stage was set for a political challenge – to determine just who will be the next sovereign, and more than that, which family – and even which branch of which family – will take the reins in directing matters on the archipelago going forward.

Now, before we get much further, I have to warn you, the sources we have are clearly biased when it comes to the events they were recording.  I mention this because many of the stories in this highly dynamic period and I don’t want to keep caveating everything all the time. So let me get a lot of it out of the way now, before we get into the really juicy bits.  This also goes for some of the stuff in the last few episodes as well.  While the Chronicles were built from records that survived into the 8th century it is clear that not every family is equally represented, and it is also clear that the Chroniclers, who knew the outcome, were massaging the narrative in certain ways.  And so we get a narrative of how the Mononobe were enemies of Buddhism, attempting to stop it from spreading and trying to protect the indigenous worship of the kami.  They were assisted in this by the Nakatomi, a family of court ritualists, who no doubt were also out to stop Buddhism’s progress.  As for the sovereigns, Ame Kunioshi, and Nunakura, while they weren’t necessarily Buddhist, they are portrayed as essentially neutral, going back and forth between the advice of their ministers as they fought, internally.

Most of this comes from the Nihon Shoki.  The Sendai Kuji Hongi gives a much more abbreviated version of the actual history, and the Kojiki is pretty much focused just on the lineages at this point.  By that point, a lot had happened, and neither the Soga nor the Mononobe were necessarily running things anymore.

Michael Como, in his book, “Shotoku”, suggests that, in all probability, Ame Kunioshi and Nunakura were likewise hostile to this new religion, and I think I can see that.  After all, they had to realize it was a threat to their own authority as the dedicated interpreters of the will of their ancestral kami.  It may be that the positions put forth by the Mononobe and the Nakatomi were, indeed, their actual thoughts on the matter, but it isn’t as if the Mononobe just went ahead and destroyed the Soga temples—twice!—on their own.  They first made sure to get an order from the sovereign, an order that may not have taken much arm twisting to issue.

Como and others also point out that there is a problem with another often overlooked aspect of the struggles as they are portrayed.  The typical narrative pits the “foreign” religion of Buddhism against the “indigenous” religion of the way of the kami—what would eventually be known as Shinto, but at this point really didn’t have any particular name.  The usual way of telling this story is that native religionists were simply pushing back against a foreign incursion, and even though Buddhism would thrive in the Japanese archipelago, and even come to be another tool of the state, there was a certain conflict that always remained, due in large part to the ceremonial role that the sovereign was supposed to inhabit.

The problem is that there is nothing that clearly indicates that the so-called indigenous religions were appreciably less foreign to the islands.  Even the earliest stories that were recorded in the Nihon Shoki, which depicts Japan as a special place, formed by the kami themselves, there are clear connections to the continent.  In some cases, like with Ame no Hiboko and Himegoso, we have deities coming over directly from the continent as princes and princesses of foreign lands.  In others, like with some of the stories of Susano’o, we see the kami coming down from Heaven and first setting foot in the world on the Korean peninsula.  Combined with a plethora of other clues, at the very least we can assume that the ways of the kami, including stories and rituals, were heavily influenced by continental thoughts and ideas, some of which may have arrived more than a century earlier. 

On the other hand, the use of horizontal tomb chambers is a pretty clear archaeological change that we can see happening.  We first saw this tomb design back in the 5th century in Kyūshū, and in the 6th century it had spread across the archipelago, becoming the dominant form.  But how does that connect to continental influence on indigenous spiritual and religious practice?

I think we can generally agree that tombs, beyond the practical idea of not allowing corpses to just sit around above ground, rotting and breeding disease, were largely concerned with what we consider religious concepts about the afterlife.  Sure, there is the political capital achieved by reminding everyone just who’s in charge, but it is designed around the needs of the rituals surrounding the treatment of the deceased.  Hence the grave goods, as well as the clay, stone, or even wood pillars and statues erected around them.  So when the burials go from relatively simple pits, dug in the top of these massive burial mounds to more complex chambers of giant stone blocks, which show evidence of people using multiple times, then we can gather that something changed in the rituals surrounding death and the afterlife.  Those changes are reflected in the stories about the kami, including stories about Izanagi and Izanami, about Susano’o, and even about Amaterasu in the Heavenly Rock Cave, which all have imagery associated with this new kind of burial practice.  That suggests that these stories either originated in a time when the horizontal burial chambers were prevalent, or at least they were changed and updated as ritual life also changed.

And most of these changes can be traced back to the continent.  We can see evidence, there, of horizontal stone chambers, and then trace that influence as it makes its way to Kyūshū and then the rest of the archipelago.

This isn’t to say that there weren’t elements that were conceived of on the archipelago itself.  Certainly local traditions evolved to meet the needs of the people, but not without outside influence.  Even today, modern Shintō includes concepts from Daoism, geomancy, and general Yin-Yang theory, among other things, while retaining its own character.

The point is that the argument that the resistance to Buddhism was purely because of is foreign nature seems laughably false, and yet that has been the view reinforced within the cultural imaginary of the Japanese for centuries, and it would go on to define the separate roles of Shintō and Buddhism in relation to the State for most of that time.

As we look at what takes place, however, just keep in mind that this was much more about sheer, naked, political power, regardless of how later generations tried to make it look.  Also, it is unlikely that were any clear villains or heroes, either.  Real people are complex, and motivations are rarely straight forward.

And with that, let’s get back to the funeral of Nunakura.  The throne was empty, except for the presence of the Queen, Kashikiya Hime, who continued to reside in the palace presumably receiving guests and whatever the Yamato version of funeral potatoes was—probably some kind of dried fish.

The succession at this point wasn’t exactly clear.  Nunakura had a son, Hikobito, who was no doubt the heir presumptive, but there is nothing explicitly stating as much.  Ame Kunioshi had been quite prolific, and many of Nunakura’s brothers or half brothers were still running around.  In addition, though unstated in the Chronicles, Hikobito was not the son of Kashikiya Hime, and so it remains unclear just how motivated she was to help him ascend the throne.

The first to act to resolve this uncertainty was a Prince that was neither a direct sibling of Nunakura nor of Kashikiya Hime.  It was Hatsusekabe Anahobe no Miko.  Like Kashikiya Hime, he was a grandchild of the illustrious Soga no Iname, except that he descended through Iname’s younger daughter, Wonane Gimi.

Anahobe seemed to have clear designs on the throne.  He marched straight up to the Palace of interment, and demanded entry to see his half sister.  This was the location, it would seem, where Nunakura’s body was lying in state, prior to burial.  However, given some of the accompanying statements, I suspect they may have been using Nunakura’s own Palace for this purpose, and his queen, Kashikiya Hime, was likewise residing there, possibly out of loyalty and expectations, but also because where else was she to go on short notice?

The steward in charge of the Palace at that time was a man by the name of Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe, also just known as Sakahe no Kimi.  He was suspicious of Anahobe, and his intentions.  After all, it wouldn’t take much for Anahobe to force his way in, force himself on Nunakura’s queen, claim they were married and therefore he deserved to rule.  It wouldn’t be the first time that a sovereign had married the queen, out at least a consort or daughter, of the former ruler to strengthen their own claim.  Kashikiya was double prized as she was born the daughter of Ame Kunioshi and the Queen of Nunakura.

Sakahe no Kimi want about to let that happen, however.  We are told that he had faithfully served the royal family up to that point, and it didn’t look like he was about to just lay down now, not even for a prince of the blood.

This pissed off Anahobe to no end.  He left, incensed, and started talking smack about Sakahe no Kimi to anyone who would listen.  In particular, he complained to the two Great Ministers, which I can only assume to mean Soga no Umako and Mononobe no Moriya, the Ohomi and Ohomuraji of the court.  He mentioned how, at the eulogy, Sakahe had said that the court of Nunakura would not be left desolate, and that he, Sakahe, would keep it pure as the surface of a mirror.  Who was he to make such a bold claim to be the defender of Nunakura’s virtue, especially when there were so many total princes and the court Ministers themselves?  And on top of that, he had the temerity to deny Anahobe access to the Palace of interment seven times.  For such insolence, he demanded the authority to put Sakahe no Kimi to death.  They both agreed, and next thing you know, prince Anahobe grabbed a bunch of troops, along with Mononobe no Moriya, the King’s Hand of the ancient Yamato Court, and put together a posse to go bring justice, in the form of a quick sword to the back of the neck, to Sakahe no Kimi.

This was not exactly a quiet affair, however, and when the assembled forces of the aggrieved princes rolled up on the home of Sakahe no Kimi, in Ikenobe, in Iware, he had already split, hightailing it up Mt. Miwa.  He then climbed down in the night and made straightaway for Kashikiya Hime’s country house in Tsubaki-ichi.  There he went to hide out and lay low, as Kashikiya Hime still had his back.

However, it wasn’t only the royal family that had some people with divided loyalties, and two of Sakahe’s own relatives, Shiratsutsumi and Yokoyama, decided to turn him in, apparently trying to cozy up with Anahobe, whose star appeared to be on the rise.

Knowing where Sakahe was hiding out, Anahobe and his brother, Hasebe, ordered Mononobe no Moriya to head out and treat Sakahe as though he were being played by none other than Sean Bean himself.  Not only that, they were to kill his sons as well, ending his direct line.  Moriya accepted this duty without hesitation, once again gathering a large force and setting out.

I would point out at this point that Sakahe was clearly a close confidant of the previous sovereign, Nunakura, and he was seeking refuge at Queen Kashikiya Hime’s summer cottage—we aren’t told if she was there, or still at the palace of interment, but either way, Moriya’s forces were moving against her property.

As Soga no Umako heard about this, he quickly came to the conclusion that going after Sakahe, and invading the Queen’s residence to do so, was one of those Really Bad Ideas.  Sure, he may have initially agreed to Sakahe being punished, because there was an order to things, and no doubt Sakahe’s actions threatened that order—though it is also possible that the two “Chief Ministers” mentioned in the text were others, as nobody is specifically named, so it is possible he was just learning about this for the first time, but doubtful.  Still, he was now against it.  Perhaps it was the clear involvement of Kashikiya Hime, or maybe it was the thought of killing the innocent kids.  Or possibly Umako had come to realize the truth—that this was simply an excuse for Anahobe to take the throne for himself.

Whatever the reason, Umako went to his nephew Anahobe and pleaded with him not to go out with Moriya.  He suggested that, at the very least, it would be unseemly for him to go himself.  Anahobe was determined, however, and so he headed out to meet Mononobe no Moriya and to see to Sakahe’s end, personally.

Here the Chronicles diverge, giving us two slightly different accounts.  In one story, Umako tagged along, and eventually he was able to persuade Anahobe not to go himself, and Anahobe finally relented.  However, shortly thereafter, Moriya returned with news that he had executed Sakahe no Kimi and the others.

In the other account, it is Anahobe himself who ended Sakahe no Kimi and his line, demonstrating that he was not afraid to get his hands dirty.

Either way, Soga no Umako realized that this was not the end of it, and that there would likely be more violence.  He was clearly upset that Anahobe hadn’t listened to him to call the whole thing off, and Kashikiya Hime, well, I think we can see why she may not have been happy.  The Chronicles say they both conceived enmity against Prince Anahobe, even though he was their nephew and cousin, respectively.

Now this was all happening shortly after Nunakura’s death—Nunakura died in 585, and this is all taking place between then and late 586 – and clearly it’s related to a question of succession.  However, the Chronicles try to claim that there was, in fact, a sitting sovereign at that time.  That honor went to none other than Kashikiya Hime’s own full brother, Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou.  So given what we’ve discussed about Anahobe’s antics in trying to marry Kashikiya, what’s up with that, and where did Toyohi come from?

Why Toyohi was selected, or even how he was selected, is a bit strange.  We are told that he was the fourth child of Ame Kunioshi, and as I mentioned, he was the full brother of Kashikiya Hime, making him a son of Kitashi Hime and a grandson of Soga no Iname.  We are also told that he believed in the Law of the Buddha and also Revered the Way of the Kami.  Finally, we are told that his capital was set in Iware—specifically at the Ikenobe no Namitsuki no Miya.  If that sounds familiar, it is because Ikenobe, in Iware, was also the location of our Sean Bean stand-in, Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe’s, house as well—a strange coincidence in a tumultuous time.

Toyohi wasn’t long on the throne.  During the feast of first fruits, the Niinamesai, which was performed on a riverbank in Iware, Toyohi took ill.  The Niinamesai is typically observed on or about the 23rd day of the 11th month of the old lunisolar calendar, which could have been as late as December or even early January, meaning that it was likely cold, and possibly even cold and wet, especially along a riverbank.  It brings to mind the story of US President William Henry Harrison, who gave his inaugural address on a cold and wet day, and ended up catching pneumonia weeks later, passing away shortly thereafter.  In a similar vein, Toyohi’s illness grew worse and worse, and so he requested that he be able to give worship to the Three Precious Things, which is to say Buddhism, likely hoping that worshipping the Buddha would cure him.  Obviously, Soga no Umako was in favor of this, having tried to get his own temple started in the previous reign, but both Mononobe no Moriya and Nakatomi no Katsumi both opposed it, claiming he would be turning his back on the kami of the Japanese archipelago.  It was déjà vu all over again.

The tie breaker in this case came from what might seem an unusual source.  It was Prince Anahobe himself who found a priest and brought him to his elder half-brother’s side.  The records simply state that it was Toyohi’s “younger brother”, but a note in the Nihon Shoki explains that Prince Anahobe is assumed to be the one they mean.  This is bolstered, somewhat, by the fact that Toyohi is said to have been married to *Princess* Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Himemiko.  That’s right, Toyohi had married Anahobe’s sister, which may have also made them closer than even normal bonds of kinship would account for.  Thus, whatever designs Anahobe had on the throne seem to have been overcome by his desire to help his half-brother, an apparently touching moment.

Unfortunately, it didn’t help.  Toyohi grew worse and worse and eventually it was clear that he wasn’t going to make it.  Kuratsukuri Be no Tasuna, a son of Shiba Tattou, offered to become a monk on Toyohi’s behalf and help make merit for him.  Shiba Tattou had been the one to help Soga no Umako with his first attempt at setting up a temple, including having his daughter ordained as a nun, so this seems rather on brand for him.  It is interesting that Tasuna is mentioned as a member of the Kuratsukuri Be, however—the guild of saddle makers.  Once again, related to horses and thus back to Baekje and the continent.

Tasuna offered to make a Buddha image that was about 16 feet high, and to build a temple.  The Chronicles say that this temple, along with its attendant Boddhisatvas, was still around several centuries later at the temple of Sakata in Minabuchi, which would appear to place it in the region of Asuka, the Soga family stronghold.

Toyohi’s reign was extremely short—assuming, of course, that he reigned at all.  As we’ve already discussed with Anahobe’s Game of Thrones antics, it seems like things were generally still up in the air, though it is quite possible that since Toyohi was Kashikiya Hime’s full brother, she deferred to him and helped him take the throne as everything else was going on. 

It is just as likely, though, that the Chroniclers needed someone to fill the space, and he fit the bill.  There are a couple of things that suggest this interpretation.  First off are his offspring, specifically two.  One was Nukade Hime, who he made the Ise Princess, which is to say the Royal Princess, or Himemiko, who was assigned to the shrine of Amaterasu in Ise.  There is some question about the actual importance of Ise at this point, but there wouldn’t be by the 8th century, and so to the Chroniclers this would have been an important point to make, even though there is some scholarly thought that Ise really wasn’t that big of a deal until around the time of the Temmu dynasty.

The other child of Tachibana no Toyohi is very important – someone we’ve touched on briefly, and I’ll probably go into a whole episode on in not too much longer:  Prince Umayado.  Aka the Prince of the Kamitsu Palace, or Kamitsumiya.  He’s better known as Shotoku Taishi, and he holds a special place in Japan’s cultural identity about itself and Buddhism.

For anyone who hasn’t heard of Shotoku Taishi, I’ll try to break it down quickly.  As I said, we need to do at least one episode on him at some point.  “Shotoku Taishi” is the single individual most credited with spreading Buddhism in Japan – the most mentioned, though he wasn’t the first.  The problem is that this means there are a lot of stories around him and his accomplishments, such that it is hard to pull out fact from fiction.  Much like Yamato Takeru, Shotoku Taishi’s legend had already grown by the time the Nihon Shoki was being written, to the point that different temples were almost fighting over who got to write the narratives about him and whose stories were taken as factual.  Think about George Washington chopping down the cherry tree and you get the picture of the kinds of cultural imaginaries that get attached to Prince Shotoku.

And so it is little wonder that this very important figure’s father, Tachibana no Toyohi, gets credited with at least a few years on the throne, whether or not he ever actually sat as the ruler.  It provides even that much more legitimacy to Prince Umayado’s later accomplishments—or at least the accomplishments that were attributed to him.  It also might explain why Toyohi’s own story centers so much on his belief in Buddhism as well.  There is a point made of talking about the fact that Toyohi believed in Buddhism, and he is the first sovereign we have to actively seek out the worship of Buddhism.  Once again, it is hard to know if he was truly sovereign—I tend to feel like this whole period was one of the periods where the court couldn’t initially get united behind a single person, and what we are seeing is more after-the-fact ascensions to boost the lineage.  But the dispute over Buddhism is clearly the centerpiece here for something much greater.

But we haven’t gone full family-on-family war yet, which brings us back to Mononobe no Moriya.  He was clearly not happy about the whole situation with the sovereign ignoring his advice and performing more Buddhist worship, and it didn’t help that the powerful prince Anahobe had stepped in on the side of the pro-Buddhist faction.  They had just been out murdering people together, and now Anahobe turned his back on him.  Moriya likely felt tossed aside.

I’ve seen some suggestion that the Mononobe house and the Soga house at this time were equals.  Sure, the Nihon Shoki uses the “Omi” and “Muraji” kabane, with “Omi” having a distinctly more prominent feel, but it is possible that the two families were actually of equal rank. There’s the fact that the text at one time references “The Two Oho-omi”, which is generally taken to just mean the two “Chief Ministers”, Umako and Moriya, but which could also be seen as acknowledging that Moriya stood on equal footing with Umako.  There is also a note in the Sendai Kuji Hongi that suggests that Moriya was made both Ohomuraji—that is, head of the house—and also a high Minister, or Omi.  It is unclear what this means, but probably similarly placed him on equal footing with Umako. Certainly in the discussions up to this point, the Mononobe often had the favor of the court over the wishes of the Soga, especially when it came to burning down their Buddhist establishments.

Now, however, the Soga were clearly ascendant.  The grandsons of Soga no Iname were Royal Princes, and that shifted the power dynamics.  Even Anahobe was a Soga descendant.  It is easy to see how Moriya was likely feeling isolated and even belittled by the court.  Enter Iago… I mean Oshisakabe no Kekuso, who bent Moriya’s ear and convinced him that all of the other ministers were now plotting against him.  More than that, they were about to ambush him and take him out of the picture altogether.

And was that so strange?  Hadn’t something similar just happened with Sakahe no Kimi when the powerful people of the court found him too troublesome?  Moriya himself had helped carry that out and bring it about.  This was not exactly a time where one was innocent until proven guilty, and if you wanted someone out of the picture, well, it was hard for them to tell their story from inside a massive burial mound.  This was a dangerous time to be on the political outs.

And so we are told that Mononobe no Moriya retired.  He left the court and went to Ato, where he had his own country-house.  This would have been in a Mononobe stronghold.  It is often thought to have meant somewhere on the Kawachi plain, around Yao, on southeastern edge of the modern metropolis of Ohosaka, and outside of the Nara Basin.  There he gathered a force of troops around him, presumably for his own protection.  Allies, such as Nakatomi no Katsumi, came to his aid.

As Umako had predicted, this whole thing was not going to end well.  The two most powerful ministers at court had been feuding since the death of the previous sovereign.  They had broken on policy, on religion, and even on threats to the throne. And now one of them had holed up in their own stronghold and was building an army.  Meanwhile you still had a bunch of princes running around, all of them possibly eligible to ascend and take the throne of Yamato for themselves.   The storm clouds of war had gathered, and people were taking sides.  Whatever happened, its clear that it would have momentous consequences for everyone involved—at least, if they lived to see it through.

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