The association between Chinese culture and the Japanese imperial family of the Nara Period is beautifully illustrated here at the Zenkōji in Nagano. In this picture we see two komainu (Chinese dogs) in front of a curtain bearing the imperial chrysanthemum.
The religion of Buddhism was founded in India by Skyamuni, an Indian prince who pondered on the nature of human suffering, which to him seemed to be everywhere. With his conclusion – that the reason for suffering was human desire, and that desire was itself illusory because, as nothing is permanent, nothing can ever be possessed – he achieved enlightenment and became Buddha (‘The Enlightened One’).
In the 3rd century BC, King Aoka, the third monarch of the Indian Mauryan dynasty, converted to Buddhism and the teaching spread. Over the next two centuries a movement called Mahyna Buddhism developed, which incorporated local deities into its pantheon much as the kami were to be brought into Japanese Buddhism. When these were combined with a belief in the different manifestations of Buddha, it resulted in a growing list of names through which Buddha was worshipped and invoked. In Japan these would include Shaka, the historical Buddha; Amida, the dispenser of infinite love; Miroku, the Buddha of the Future; Yakushi Nyorai, the healing Buddha, and so on, as well as Kannon, the Goddess of Mercy, and Fudō, the ‘immoveable one’: two deities borrowed from outside Buddhism.
The faith entered China during the 1st century AD. The scriptures were translated into Chinese, and as China’s neighbours were heavily influenced by Chinese culture Buddhism spread widely, reaching Korea around the 4th and 5th centuries, and Japan around the middle of the 6th century.
The introduction of Buddhism into Japan provided a religious system that many regarded as a rival and an act of effrontery to the kami. However, the emperors, who were Shintō’s guardians and in many ways its main beneficiaries, eventually came to view Buddhism in a very positive light as an integral part of the Chinese culture that was being absorbed into Japan with beneficial results. Buddhism offered a metaphysical world view based on sophisticated teachings that went far beyond the animistic myths of early Japan. It also provided a form of magic that ensured the welfare of the emperor and of the state.
A statue of Kannon, the Goddess of Mercy, in the courtyard of the Eiheiji on the island of Ikitsuki.
The ‘official date’ for the introduction of Buddhism into Japan is given in the Nihon shoki as 552, which is probably accurate, as the new religion seems to have appeared during the reign of Emperor Kinmei (ruled 539–571). Certain clans, notably the Soga family, who built the first full-scale Buddhist temple in Japan, were more enthusiastic about embracing Buddhism than was the imperial court, so the introduction of Buddhism split the ruling class of Japan. Buddhism became a matter of great controversy, as did the Korean king’s gift of a statue of Buddha, which ended up being unceremoniously dumped into a canal. It was soon retrieved, and is now housed within the great Zenkōji temple in Nagano. The war for Buddhism ended in a victory in 587 for Soga Umako, but in spite of his decisive role in establishing Buddhism in Japan another name is far more closely associated with the spread of Buddhism: Prince Shōtoku (572–621). Having ruled as regent from 593, Shōtoku, whose life has probably been embellished by legend, declared Buddhism to be the state religion in Japan. Of all the many Buddhist foundations associated with Shōtoku’s religious and political reforms, none is more celebrated than the beautiful temple of Hōryji near Nara, the world’s oldest wooden building.1
By the end of the first hundred years of Buddhism’s existence in Japan, its influence had spread widely in both geographical and social terms. ‘State Buddhism’, in the sense of imperial patronage, began under Emperor Jomei (ruled 629–641) with his foundation of the first national temple in 639. Recent excavation of the site has revealed a very large religious complex.2 This building represented the physical manifestation of a number of state-sponsored initiatives designed to actively promote Buddhism in Japan, such as the copying of sutras, the support for rituals and the foundation of other temples and statues.
In 646 the government announced the Taika reforms, an ambitious set of edicts that theoretically made all of Japan subject to the emperor. One of the first tasks of the reformers was to establish Japan’s first permanent capital city. This was achieved, after a couple of false starts, at Nara in 710. The city was laid out on a grid plan imitating that of the capital of the Tang Dynasty of China, from which Japan’s rulers drew their inspiration for making their ordered state into a reflection of the Buddhist world order. The statesman Fujiwara Fuhito (659–720) encouraged the move to Nara by founding the Buddhist temple of Kōfukuji and the Shintō Kasuga shrine as the spiritual guardians of the new capital.3 Fuhito also protected his family’s position by methodically marrying off his daughters to Japanese emperors, and it was his grandson Emperor Shōmu, who reigned from 724 to 749, who was to provide Nara with its largest and most glorious monument: the Buddhist temple of Tōdaiji, built to house a colossal image of Buddha. It was 16m (52ft) high and the largest cast product of the ancient world.4
The Zenkōji at Nagano, seen here under snow, houses the original statue of Buddha sent from Korea.
In the buildings of Tōdaiji and Kōfukuji the sacred function was exercised on a grand scale that befitted the capital of Japan. In 752 Tōdaiji, which rivalled the greatest Chinese monuments, was inaugurated in the most splendid ceremony ever witnessed in Japan, and the shrines of the kami now had a magnificent rival. Within the Daibutsuden, the main hall of Tōdaiji, the central figure of Vairocana Buddha surrounded by his manifestations seemed to the emperor to be a divine guarantor of the similarly central position he occupied in the Japanese hegemony. By such arguments Buddhism could be used to support the imperial supremacy, but Shintō, through its myths of descent from Amaterasu, provided the ultimate guarantee of its permanence. What is less well known is that Emperor Shōmu was also ordained as a Buddhist monk. The blending between Buddhism and Shintō could hardly have been more dramatically personified.
Emperor Shōmu, who reigned from 724 to 749, was to provide Nara with its largest, most glorious monument: the Buddhist temple of Tōdaiji. This is its Daibutsuden, built to house a colossal image of Buddha. The present reconstruction dates from 1709, and is only 40 per cent of the size of the original.
By the end of the Nara Period (646–793), which was concluded with the moving of the capital to Heian-kyō (modern Kyōto), their joint patronage meant that Buddhism and Shintō were beginning to form a syncretic system, and the kami acquired a new status and new roles. With the compilation of the Kojiki and the Nihon shoki, the kami’s existence as the founders of the imperial house was set in stone, while at the same time their relation to Buddhism was clarified. As sentient beings one stage higher than humans, the kami needed the Buddha’s salvation, yet they were also seen as the guardians of Buddhist law. Some kami were referred to as bosatsu (bodhisattvas). When the Tōdaiji was completed, Empress Kōken, Emperor Shōmu’s daughter, visited the temple to issue an imperial decree thanking Hachiman for his assistance with the project.5
Just as the powerful families who had once challenged the Yamato court had become integrated into its military institutions as bushi (warriors – an alternative expression to samurai), so also did they integrate into the political and religious life of the Japanese court. Many of them were fervent supporters of Buddhism, and just like their divine leader in Nara they sponsored the development of Buddhism in their localities. These initiatives could include lectures from visiting monks and the development of Buddhist activities for the lower orders of society. This aspect of Buddhism, which is often overlooked beside the powerful image of court-based ritual and architecture, is preserved through collections of tales such as the Nihon Ryõiki, the earliest anthology of Buddhist stories in Japan. It was compiled by Kyōkai, a priest of the Nara temple of Yakushiji. One story concerns two poor fishermen, lost at sea, who are saved from death by chanting, ‘Namu Shakamuni-butsu’ (‘Hail to the Buddha Shakamuni’). In another story a miner is similarly saved from death underground through his Buddhist faith. There are also accounts of local cooperation in building a Buddhist temple for a village. Other tales, however, go further than merely affirming the efficacy of faith in Buddha and amount to a slightly veiled attack on the powers and reputation of the kami, who are presented as deluded sentient beings. One story tells of a Buddhist priest who is staying at the Shintō Taga shrine in Omi province. The kami of the shrine appears to him as a monkey, and explains that he has been made to take this form because of his evil karma. He begs the priest to release him from his present suffering by reciting the Lotus Sutra, the scripture regarded as the true teaching of Buddha.6
By the middle of the Heian Period (794–1185), it was clear that such attempts to deprive the kami of their dignity were neither effective nor necessary, and the intellectual current of the time moved rapidly towards a philosophy of Shintō/Buddhist syncretism. The result was the honji suijaku (‘original prototype – local manifestation’) theory, which stated that the eternal Buddha, wishing to save all deluded sentient beings, had manifested himself as the kami. So, for example, the kami of the important Kumano Shing shrine was identified with Yakushi Nyorai, the Buddha of healing,7 while the Kasuga shrine in Nara was an earthly depiction of the heavenly paradise of the Buddhist counterparts of the Shintō kami enshrined there.8
SACRED SPACE
As Buddhism came to Japan by way of China, it is not surprising to find that the model adopted for the general layout of the temples where the new faith was practised was based on Chinese antecedents. The architecture of Chinese Buddhist temples was derived in turn from that of the Chinese palace. By and large, the overall pattern of a Buddhist temple compound that it gave rise to has lasted to this day. There are numerous variations, but certain features have stubbornly persisted over the centuries.
Most Buddhist temples are entered through a formal gateway in the place occupied by a Shintō torii. Because this gate symbolically marks the entrance to the precincts it may not even have closing doors or walls on either side. It may also contain a pair of huge statues called Niõ. These half-naked giants, who stand guard over the temple entrance, are derived from Hindu deities who were incorporated into Buddhist cosmology. One Niõ has its mouth open, while the other’s mouth is closed.
The buildings arranged within the courtyard are solidly framed wooden structures standing on masonry terraces and crowned with graceful tiled roofs. They are built round a framework of massive vertical timbers, with large cross pieces and very intricate bracketing to support upper storeys and roofs. Each vertical support usually rests on one very large stone. The main hall within the courtyard is called the hondõ (or sometimes the kondõ). The hondõinvariably has overhanging eaves protecting an outside walkway that stretches round the building and is reached by a flight of stairs. Some form of door at the front leads to the interior of the hondõ. This may be a sliding or hinged wooden door or a set of doors, with additional sliding shõji doors just inside. Shõji are instantly wooden bell tower, with recognizable as light-framed doors with translucent paper covering them. Alternatively, the doors may be hinged at the top, and are lifted up and propped open. The main image in the temple occupies a central place within the hondõ, while around it is the space for the priests or monks to perform services, together with some provision for lay worshippers to gather. The floor is usually of wooden planking, augmented by tatami (straw mats).
Outside in the courtyard there may be some lanterns. A pagoda is often found in the temples of the older sects, but is unusual in Zen or Jōdo Shinsh temples. Pagodas came to Japan with Buddhism itself. Originally towers for housing the remains of the Buddha as relics, they developed for other purposes such as markers for holy places. A very common feature is a free-standing bell tower, with a huge bronze bell that is rung using an external wooden clapper. Temples that also function as monasteries are likely to include a lecture hall, together with other similar buildings concerned with the education and ordination of monks. One may find a sutra (Buddhist scripture) repository, various dormitories, living quarters and a refectory. These buildings usually stand alone, but may be connected to each other using roofed wooden corridors. Further features may include a garden and a Shintō shrine associated with the temple’s foundation.9
A typical free-standing wooden bell tower, with a bronze bell rung by an external clapper swung on ropes.
MONKS AND MOUNTAINS
In 794 Japan’s capital was moved from Nara to Kyōto via the short-term Nagaoka. Kyōto’s original name of Heian-kyō was to give its name to the Heian Period in Japanese history. The motive behind the move is usually reckoned to be a desire by the imperial court to free itself from the stranglehold of the great Nara monasteries, but it also followed a change in the genealogical direction of the imperial line.
Before the new site was selected, careful investigations had been undertaken to ensure that the location was suitable according to the Taoist principles of feng shui (see pp. 54–55 for more on Taoism). Feng shui included the belief that evil could attack a city from a north-easterly direction, where the ‘demon gate’ is found. To the north-east of Kyōto lies a mountain called Hieizan (Mount Hiei), where there had long been a shrine to a kami known as Sannō, ‘the king of the mountain’. This was most encouraging, but on top of Mount Hiei there was also a new Buddhist temple called Enryakuji, which had been founded only six years earlier. It owed its existence to the monk Saichō, known to posterity by the name of Dengyō Daishi (‘The Great Master Who Transmitted the Teachings’).
Saichō had entered the religious life at the tender age of 11. He received full ordination at the age of 18 at Tōdaiji, and shortly afterwards left Nara for the wild Mount Hiei, where he built a simple hermitage: the holy mountain’s first religious building after the shrine of Sannō. In 797 Saichō was appointed to a position as court priest, which brought him to the notice of Emperor Kammu (781–806). Sent as a government-sponsored student to Tang China in 804, he returned full of enthusiasm for esoteric Buddhism (mikkyõ), a passion that was to be shared by his emperor. The result was the founding of the Tendai sect of Buddhism, with its headquarters on Mount Hiei in Saichō’s new temple of Enryakuji.
The pagoda of the Toyokawa Inari shrine, which is also a Buddhist temple.
In 806 Saichō successfully petitioned the court for a change in the ordination system. For many years the number of ordinands had been strictly limited to ten. Not only was the number increased to accommodate the Tendai movement, but for the first time the ordinands were assigned to specific ‘schools’ – a move that effectively signified an official recognition of sectarianism in Japanese Buddhism.10 The Tendai sect was intended to operate outside the influence of the Office of Monastic Affairs, which was dominated by Nara. Enryakuji soon became involved in the performance of numerous sacred rituals connected with the imperial court, and it soon achieved recognition as ‘the temple for the pacification and protection of the state’.11 Enryakuji therefore became one of Japan’s most privileged foundations, and Saichō and his disciples received the aristocratic support of the Kyōto nobility, who showered wealth upon the temple. By the 11th century the monastery complex on Mount Hiei consisted of about 3,000 buildings. Much property was owned elsewhere in Japan, making Enryakuji a very wealthy place indeed. It was also pre-eminent in the education it provided, and there is hardly a name in the annals of eminent Japanese Buddhist teachers and preachers up to the 15th century who did not at some time in his life study on Mount Hiei. The Tendai sect was absolutely central to Heian Buddhism, and was to be the parent of all the new sects of Buddhism that emerged during the Kamakura Period. Even Nichiren, who reacted so violently against the teachings of Tendai, had at least been through its maw.12
The Heian shrine shown here was built to commemorate the 1,100th anniversary of the founding of Kyōto, and is based on the appearance of the original imperial palace in Heian.
In 835 the ordination quota was changed yet again to accommodate the second of the two great sects that emerged at the beginning of the 9th century: Shingon. Shingon was founded by Kkai (774–835), who is known to history as the beloved Kōbō Daishi (‘The Great Master Who Promulgates the Law’). Born in 774, he accompanied Saichō on his visit to China in 804. He returned in 806 similarly imbued with an enthusiasm for esoteric Buddhism, although his approach was sufficiently different from Saichō’s that he was to found a different sect of Buddhism.13 Like Saichō, Kkai also retired to the mountains for ascetic practices, but his wilderness was to be found on the island of Shikoku. He then spread esoteric Buddhism throughout Japan, introducing faith in Mahvairocana (Dainichi). Emperor Saga took an interest in Kkai’s work, and 812 was to find Kkai performing ceremonies ‘for the protection of the country’. In 814 he conducted the first rituals of initiation into one of the great mysteries of the Shingon sect: the concept of the Diamond and Womb mandalas. Kkai maintained that his mysterious doctrine could not be transmitted without the use of elaborate diagrams and images, and the Shingon mandalas represent an important artistic presentation of Buddhism.14 The Kongõkai (Diamond Mandala) and the Taizõkai (Womb Mandala) are representations of the cosmos under the two aspects of potential energy and dynamic manifestation. They existed at one level as holy pictures, but were also tools for interpreting the mystic significance of a spiritual environment. The holy mountain pilgrimage route from Yoshino to Kumano therefore involved a journey that passed through an earthly expression of the two mandalas.
The temple of Enryakuji on Mount Hiei, founded by the monk Saichō, was a key player in the history of Buddhism in Japan. We are looking down on to the Kompon Chdō (the fundamental central hall) which is the heart of Enryakuji. The original Kompon Chdō was built by Saichō to house an image of Yakushi Nyorai (the Healing Buddha). The present reconstruction dates from 1642.
In 823 Emperor Saga’s patronage led him to present Kkai with Tōji, one of only two Buddhist temples allowed within the Heian city precincts. In terms of physical influence, therefore, the new Heian government seemed to have succeeded in prising the control of Buddhism out of Nara’s clutches. As the new Buddhist sects were esoteric in their approach, stressing the active quest for enlightenment through strenuous austerities and secret rituals, Buddhism’s influence on court affairs in Kyōto proved to be as strong as in the days of Nara. Their monks would undertake arduous mountain pilgrimages and perform long, mysterious rituals in their temples for the welfare of the emperor. Mount Hiei was to become famous for its ‘marathon monks’ who walked the kaihyõgõ, a prescribed 30km (19 mile) route around the sacred mountain, offering prayers along the way. The most arduous form this devotion takes is the ‘thousand day kaihyõgõ’, whereby the exercise is performed for a period of a thousand days within a space of seven years. Only 40 monks have ever completed it since the year 1571.15
In architectural terms, the independence from Nara led to the diminution of Chinese styles in the design of the Heian temples and the emergence of a national style. Two other factors led to the temples looking very different from their predecessors in Nara. The first was the association with mountains. The courtyard model of the Buddhist temple seen at Nara had to be modified because of the mountainous terrain, so halls were built on different levels and joined by mountain paths. Enryakuji, for example, was spread out along a vast area of the summit of Hieizan on its peaks and in its wooded valleys.16 Another difference was to be found in their interior layout. The mikkyõ sects stressed gradual initiation into secret rites, so the hondõ of mikkyõ temples acquired a central barrier that divided the interior into an outer part for the uninitiated and an inner sanctum. At the same time the esoteric demands of the Shingon sect in particular led to the need for a greatly enlarged priestly space where the important rituals could be performed in utmost secrecy. In some cases this led to the creation of new types of temple buildings, such as the gomadõ, where offerings using fire could be performed in reasonable safety. Nevertheless, anyone such as the author who has personally witnessed the fierce flames of a Shingon goma ritual emerges astounded that a building made of wood could ever withstand such treatment.
The kondõ of the Shingon temple of Tōji in Kyōto, founded by Kōbō Daishi. This building within the extensive grounds dates from 1606 and is shown here during the popular flea market held on the 21st day of each month.
The Tendai and Shingon temples also took very seriously their role of serving the populace in addition to the needs of the aristocracy. To be available to the laity in order to instruct and enlighten them caused further problems of space that the old Nara models could not accommodate. Pictorial evidence suggests that, like vassals in an imperial audience, any congregation in a Nara temple had to make do with the open air of the courtyard, with perhaps some form of temporary shelter if the weather was inclement. To cope with the conflicting demands of secrecy and education, three improvements in the plan of the hondõ were attempted during the Heian Period. The first solution was to add an aisle across the front covered by an extension of the main roof. This is the model found in the most important Tendai building of all: the Kompon Chdō (Central Main Hall) of Enryakuji, founded in 788. The second was the provision of a building just in front of the hondõ, either free-standing or joined to it by a gallery. This was already common in Shintō shrines, where it was known as a raidõ or a haiden. The final type was to construct a raidõ as the fore-hall in contact with the main building of the hondõ, or more simply as an integral part of it under one roof. This model gave the Heian monks the best of both worlds. The laity could be accommodated with ease, while sliding partitions could allow them to be as easily excluded from anything improper for their eyes.17
The esoteric nature of Shingon also contributed to the interweaving of Buddhism and Shintō, as the holy environments of the Diamond and Womb mandalas were extended to include the layout and architecture of Shintō shrines such as the ‘paradise world’ of Kasuga.18 Through these considerations esoteric Buddhism influenced Shintō. This happened particularly through a development known as Ryōbu Shintō (Dual Shintō). This was a form of Shintō/Buddhist syncretism handed down within the Shingon sect, which involved the identification of kami with Buddhas. For example, the monk Shōnin was interested in Mount Omiwa, and drew up a theory whereby the kami of Omiwa was identified with Mahvairocana (Dainichi).19
Kkai established an important monastic complex on the holy mountain of Kōyasan (Mount Kōya) in Kii province. Kōyasan resembles Mount Hiei in most aspects except for one: its close association with death. There is only one grave on Mount Hiei, that of Saichō himself, while the approach to Kōbō Daishi’s tomb on Kōyasan is lined by tens of thousands of graves and mausoleums. To walk past them is a fascinating experience, the litany of the names of those buried therein reading like a catalogue of the greatest figures from Japanese history. There one may find the tomb of Akechi Mitsuhide, the usurper of the great Oda Nobunaga in 1582, whose monument was suitably blasted by a thunderbolt as a warning to faithless retainers. The custom of being buried on Kōyasan dates back to the 12th century and is directly related to the cult that developed around Kōbō Daishi following his death. According to Shingon belief, Kōbō Daishi did not die, but sits in a trance in his tomb on Kōyasan awaiting the advent of Maitreya (Miroku Bosatsu), the Buddha of the Future. Such beliefs led to the desire for a spiritual bond with the ‘saint’ (no other word adequately conveys the respect and love in which Kōbō Daishi is held) by having one’s remains, even a lock of one’s hair, buried in this holy place. Failing this, a simple monument like a mausoleum would have to suffice.
One of the many tombs and mausoleums of Japan’s daimyõ that are to be found on the holy mountain of Kōyasan. The custom of being buried on Kōyasan dates back to the 12th century and is directly related to the cult that developed around Kōbō Daishi following his death.
That, at any rate, is the pious view. Others see in the tombs of the daimyõ (independent warlords) on Kōyasan, some of which now appear to be at dangerous risk of collapse, a ‘competition to overawe people with displays of magnificence’.20 Kōyasan, a place of pilgrimage, provided too much of a temptation to show off, but its sacred nature has ensured its survival over the centuries in spite of a succession of samurai commanders who plotted its destruction in revenge for sanctuary given to a rival. Toyotomi Hideyoshi came the nearest to attacking Kōyasan after its denizens had supported his rival, Tokugawa Ieyasu (1542–1616), during the 1584 Komaki campaign, but his reverence for the holy mountain of Kōbō Daishi stayed his hand. Hideyoshi’s connection with the place is better known through an anecdote concerning a visit he made after completing the reunification of Japan. According to legend, the third and final bridge along the avenue leading to Kōbō Daishi’s tomb cannot be crossed by anyone whose morals are unacceptable to the saint. When Hideyoshi arrived he strode across the bridge in a confident manner that befitted his exalted state. What no one except the sympathetic abbot of Kōyasan knew was that Hideyoshi had made a trial crossing of the bridge the previous night, when nothing untoward had occurred.21
Kōyasan also played a key role throughout samurai history as a place of exile. A disgraced or defeated general might be allowed to shave his head and become a monk as a merciful alternative to committing suicide. Such generosity was usually accompanied by the wretch’s banishment to a distant island, but Kōyasan provided a workable alternative. Unlike death, of course, exile to Kōyasan still left open the possibility of the victim’s return. After the battle of Sekigahara in 1600, Sanada Yukimura was compelled to shave his head and become a monk on Kōyasan. He was still there when Toyotomi Hideyori’s call to arms was issued in 1614. Yukimura escaped and joined in a final attempt to challenge the Tokugawa at the siege of Osaka castle while his brother Nobuyuki fought in the siege lines against him. But if Kōyasan did not provide a secure prison, neither did it offer a complete guarantee of sanctuary. Toyotomi Hidetsugu, originally chosen as Hideyoshi’s heir, was banished to Kōyasan on the suspicion of treasonable conduct. This was very largely because Hidetsugu now stood in the way of Hideyoshi’s infant son Hideyori. Mindful that Hidetsugu might leave the mountain and foment a genuine rebellion, Hideyoshi sent orders for him to commit suicide, and Hidetsugu had no option but to comply.22
THE EVE OF DESTRUCTION
The above accounts of holy men doing holy things on holy mountains may have given the impression that the Heian Period was living up to its name and promising peace to all. But as the centuries wore on after the passing of Saichō and Kkai a new feeling of pessimism descended, prompted by certain gloomy mathematical calculations. Quite early in its history Buddhism had developed the concept of the three periods of the Buddhist Law. The period in which the teachings of Skyamuni Buddha were transmitted faithfully was known as the period of Righteous Law (shõbõ). The age of decline, in which enlightenment was no longer possible, was known as the period of Counterfeit Law (zõbõ). Finally, the end of the Law, the time in which neither practice nor attainment were possible, was known as the period of Decay of the Law (mappõ), when the world would descend into chaos, darkness and destruction. The first two ages would last for a thousand years each, so the Japanese reckoned that the first millennium had been encompassed between the time of the life of the historical Buddha in around 500 BC and the introduction of Buddhism to Japan in AD 552. Simple arithmetic therefore indicated that in about the year 1052 the world would enter upon the awful time of *mappõ.*23 To Fujiwara Sukefusa (1007–57) the significance of that terrible year was proved beyond any doubt when fire destroyed the Hasedera temple.24 To this awesome date was juxtaposed the concept of mujõ (the impermanence of all phenomena), which enshrined the second of Buddhism’s ‘Four Noble Truths’: that people suffer because they desire to possess things, even though nothing can be truly possessed because everything is impermanent and transient.
A statue of Jizō stands in front of a rather precarious-looking stone pagoda among the tombs that surround Kōbō Daishi’s last resting place on Kōyasan.
The acceptance of mappõ and mujõ had several important outcomes, not the least of which was the establishment of the Pure Land sects described later in ‘Warriors of the Pure Land’. One could also put one’s faith in Miroku, the Buddha of the Future. This gave hope to mankind even in the age of mappõ, and some saw optimistic signs in the world about them. Fujiwara Munetada (1062–1141) noted that thieves who robbed a temple in 1096 were moved by dreams to return all the stolen property.25 A very different manifestation in Japanese Buddhism, however, seemed to provide the evidence that the ‘last days’ had indeed arrived. With the steady rise in influence of the samurai class at the expense of the Chinese-inspired bureaucracy of the imperial court, factions within Buddhism itself degenerated into violent confrontation and wielded armies of sõhei, who are usually referred to as ‘the warrior monks’.
There was no inherent reason why political disagreements over the affairs of important religious institutions should necessarily lead to armed conflict; however, by the middle of the 10th century bitter disputes over imperial control of senior appointments led to brawling between rival monks and eventually to the use of weapons. These inter-temple or inter-faction disputes were not ‘religious wars’ in the Western sense: they did not involve points of doctrine or dogma, just temple politics. The first major incident in 949 involving violence by monks against monks occurred when 56 monks from Nara’s Tōdaiji gathered at the residence of an official in Kyōto to protest against an appointment that had displeased them. One important characteristic of such incursions was the carrying of religious symbols, a dramatic feature that underlined the complete sympathy between Shintō and Buddhism at that time. The Kōfukuji sõhei would carry at the head of their processions the shimboku (holy tree) of the Kasuga shrine, while the Mount Hiei monks carried the mikoshi – the portable shrines seen today in shrine festivals – belonging to the Hiyoshi shrine at the foot of Mount Hiei.
In 969 a dispute over conflicting claims to temple lands resulted in the death of several Kōfukuji monks at the hands of monks from Tōdaiji. Also around this time we read of Enryakuji being involved in a dispute with the Gion shrine in Kyōto and using force to settle the matter. Subsequent to this incident Ryōgen, the chief abbot of Enryakuji, decided to maintain a permanent fighting force on Mount Hiei. His dramatic decision was contrary to both the letter and the spirit of the pronouncements he had made previously regarding monastic discipline. He had issued a code of 26 articles intended to curb widespread abuses by the clergy of Mount Hiei. These included rules that forbade monks from carrying weapons, inflicting corporal punishment or violently disrupting religious services.
A samurai prays at the entrance to a Shintō shrine at Mishima. From a woodblock printed book of 1835 by Hokkei, a pupil of Hokusai, depicting a journey from Edo to Kyōto.
Trouble started in 1039 when the incumbent abbot of Enryakuji’s daughter temple of Miidera (Onjōji) was appointed abbot of Enryakuji. The two temples did not see eye to eye, so 3,000 enraged monks from Mount Hiei poured into Kyōto and descended on the residence of Fujiwara Yorimichi. When he refused to alter his decision, his gates were kicked in. The terrified official summoned the samurai to restore order, resulting in a bloody fight. Ultimately, violence and intimidation prevailed, because Yorimichi gave in and named the Mount Hiei candidate as abbot instead. The juxtaposition of these events with the supposed beginning of the age of mappõ caused great concern. In 1037 the priests of Kōfukuji had attacked Tōdaiji and a certain Minamoto Norisato fought a battle against priests from the Iwashimizu shrine.26 In 1074 and 1081 armies from Mount Hiei attacked Miidera. Miidera was attacked again in 1121 and 1141, and its buildings set on fire; henceforth, Miidera’s hierarchy arranged for their novices to be ordained at Tōdaiji. When Enryakuji protested at this break from tradition, it was pointed out that Saichō, the founder of Enryakuji, had been ordained in Nara. This truthful comment so infuriated Mount Hiei that its warrior monks descended on Miidera and burnt it to the ground for the fourth time in a century.
Yet in spite of their intense rivalry and frequent conflicts, at times Enryakuji and Miidera were willing to join forces to attack a third party. Thus we hear of them united against Kōfukuji in 1081. In 1113 Enryakuji burned the Kiyomizudera in Kyōto over a rival appointment of an abbot.27 Enryakuji and Miidera united against Nara again in 1117 in an incident described in Heike Monogatari, the great epic of the 12th-century wars, which quotes the sad words of the ex-emperor Go Shirakawa-In: ‘Three things refuse to obey my will: the waters of the Kamo River, the fall of backgammon dice, and the monks of Enryakuji Temple.’28
The five-storey pagoda of the temple of Kōfukuji in Nara, looking across from the pool of Sarusawa. The original pagoda was built in 725, and this one dates from 1426. It is the second tallest pagoda in Japan. The pool of Sarusawa appears in several accounts of the warrior monk battles that took place in Nara.
However, the monks could be controlled, as is illustrated by an incident at the north gate of Kyōto when the angry sõhei were confronted by the veteran samurai Minamoto Yorimasa. Yorimasa first won the confidence of the monks by quickly dismounting from his horse, taking off his helmet, rinsing his mouth with water and bowing to the kami of Sannō. His men immediately followed his example. In a brilliant display of diplomacy, Yorimasa then persuaded the monks not to attack the north gate, explaining that it was but lightly defended, and to force their way in would make the monks a laughing stock. Secondly, even though Yorimasa had been ordered to hold the gate by imperial command, as someone who respected the kami he could not oppose the monks’ progress, and would have to abandon the way of the warrior. Thus persuaded, the Mount Hiei army moved to the eastern gate, where they were greeted not by a respectful commander but by a hail of arrows, some of which struck the sacred mikoshi. Partly as a reaction to this unprecedented act of sacrilege, and partly because of the strong resistance, the warrior monks retreated, leaving the mikoshi at the gate.
The Tōkondō or Eastern Golden Hall of the warrior monk temple of Kōfukuji in Nara. The original structure was built in 726 and was burned during the Gempei War. The present building was erected in 1415.
This incident has sometimes been portrayed as an example of the contrast in attitude between the ‘superstitious’ courtiers on the one hand and agnostic samurai on the other. But this is to view the situation through the biased eyes of the compilers of Heike Monogatari, whose monastic authors looked back on the conflict through a Buddhist lens and saw the eventual defeat of the Taira family as punishment for sins against Buddhism. In reality the samurai respected the sacred as much as the courtiers did, and within days the six men whose arrows had hit the mikoshi were identified and imprisoned.29
The activities of the soldier priests of the ancient Shintō establishments are less well known than those of the two major Buddhist centres. In 1082 sõhei of the Kumano shrine entered Kyōto with their mikoshi to protest about the murder of one of their number by an official. They returned in 1104 and rioted in Uji that same year. Just as in the case of samurai families, the sõhei’s belligerence could be made to serve the court’s ends. In 1114 the chief priest of Kumano was commissioned to pursue and capture the pirates who infested the coastline of Kii province.30
In 1180 the warrior monks became directly involved in the tragic civil war that was about to begin. The conflict, which lasted from 1180 to 1185, is known as the Gempei War because of the Chinese readings of the names of the two main protagonists: the Minamoto family (Gen) and the Taira (Hei). Prince Mochihito, the candidate for the imperial throne who was favoured by the Minamoto family, raised the standard of revolt in a proclamation couched as much in religious terms as political ones:
The wonderful Great Buddha of Nara inside the Daibutsuden of Tōdaiji. The original dated from 745–49, and was then recast twice after the first one was destroyed in 1181. It weighs 550 tonnes and is made from an alloy of bronze, mercury and fine gold.
[the Taira] have despoiled the graves of princes and cut off the head of one, defied the emperor and destroyed Buddhist law in a manner unprecedented in history… If the temporal rulers, the Three Treasures and the native gods assist us in our efforts, all the people everywhere must likewise wish to assist us immediately.31
Mochihito received a positive response from the veteran Minamoto Yorimasa, but his efforts were negated by a swift response from the Taira, who drove his supporters out of Kyōto. Along with monk allies from Miidera the retreating army decided to make a stand at the Uji river south of Kyōto, where they hoped to hold back the advancing Taira until warrior monks from Nara could move up to assist them. The Minamoto and their monk allies were subsequently defeated in a fierce battle across the broken Uji Bridge, and terrible retribution followed. First, Miidera was attacked and burned to the ground, the smoke from its smouldering buildings sending a warning to the Enryakuji high above it on Mount Hiei. Yet, as in so many cases in Japanese history, rebuilding began almost immediately. Japanese temples, being made all from wood, were no strangers to fire, and by 1183 it is recorded that monks from Miidera opposed the occupation of Kyōto by Minamoto Yoshinaka, so it must have been restored by that date.32
In 1181 the Kumano sõhei went to war again, and when a counter-attack was launched against them the sõhei took 30 people hostage, including women and children.33 The compiler of Azuma Kagami, however, sympathized with the monks because they were fighting against the Taira family who had dared to impose a rice tax on families located around the Great Shrine of Ise – an unparalleled insult to Amaterasu.34 The Taira took their revenge, and so fierce was the attack that some of the Kumano priests defected to their side. Others followed a few years later and fought at the battle of Dannoura in 1185, their change of allegiance resulting from an oracle received from the kami enshrined at Kumano.35
The Taira attack on the Kumano sõhei was a very minor operation compared to an event during that same year of 1181, when Taira Shigehira led a punitive expedition against Nara in retaliation for its support of Prince Mochihito. Unlike Miidera, the loss was significant and was not so easily repaired. The warrior monks put up a stiff resistance, which Shigehira overcame by using the indiscriminate weapon of fire. It may have been an accident that the fire spread so far, but the whole of the Tōdaiji complex disappeared in the flames, including Emperor Shōmu’s Great Buddha, which melted in the intense heat. The burning of Nara was the greatest deliberate destruction of the material culture of Japanese Buddhism that the country was to witness in almost a thousand years, and the flames indicated the arrival of mappõ in no uncertain terms. It was a crime that shocked heaven itself:
How must the Four Deva Kings, the Eight Dragon Sea-gods, and the Judges and Custodians of the Underworld have been struck with amazement, and what must have been the concern of Kasuga Daimyōjin, the Tutelary Deity of the Fujiwara house? Even the dew on Mount Kasuga changed its hue and the wind howled mournfully on Mount Mikasa.36
This quotation is from Heike Monogatari. In the context of deep Buddhist pessimism derived from the concept of mappõ, the progress of the Gempei War is seen in this work as the remorseless working out of karma, which itself reflects a belief in mujõ – the impermanence of everything. The tone is set by its opening paragraph, one of the most famous passages in Japanese literature:
The sound of the bell of Gionshoja echoes the impermanence of all things. The hue of the flower of the teak tree declares that they who flourish must be brought low. Yea, the proud ones are but for a moment, like an evening dream in springtime. The mighty are destroyed at the last, they are but as the dust before the wind.37
The statue of ‘Hoichi the Earless’, the blind biwa player who was renowned for his chanting of Heike Monogatari, the epic story of the destruction of the Taira family. The statue is at the Akamagu shrine near Shimonoseki, the site of the battle of Dannoura in 1185, where the Taira were finally defeated.