The many Ōtomo of the Chronicle

This episode we see many different individuals with the name “Ōtomo” so it may be hard to distinguish who is who. It doesn’t help that in some cases it is a given name and in some cases it is an uji, or family name. So let’s go down the list, shall we?

Prince Ōtomo (大友皇子), aka Kōbun Tennō (弘文天皇)

This is the nephew of Prince Ōama and son of Naka no Ōe, aka Tenji Tennō. He is Ōama’s main rival for the throne. I would note that his name uses different characters than the other Ōtomo mentioned, but that is hardly helpful in an audio medium.

Kibumi no Muraji no Ōtomo (黄書連大伴)

Also “Kifumi”. One of the men that Ōama sends to Prince Takasaka to ask for the posting bells. His kabane at this point is actually given as Miyatsuko (造), and we later see him in the Nihon Shoki with the kabane of Muraji, probably at least in part because of the service he rendered. Aston merely lists him as “Muraji” in the English text, which may have just been an oversight. He had a lot of names to try and keep straight. Here I’ve gone with the later kabane.

Agata no Inukahi no Muraji no Ōtomo (縣犬養連大伴)

“Agata” is a political unit, like a district or prefecture. “Inukahi” was the family that arose from those who were supposed to keep and raise dogs for hunting, etc. He is the one who gives his horse to Ōama so that the latter does not have to walk.

Ōtomo no Muraji no Makuda (大伴連馬來田)

Here we have Ōtomo as a family name rather than a given name. Still using the same characters. Because that isn’t confusing at all. Ōtomo no Makuda and Kibumi no Ōtomo both catch up with Ōama and his men as they are heading out from Yoshino. Makuda was in Ōtsu when things started to kick off, and he left with his younger brother, Ōtomo no Fukei

Ōtomo no Muraji no Fukei (大伴連吹負)

Fukei and Makuda both left the Afumi court to support Ōama, but while Makuda headed off to Yoshino and then ran off with Kibumi no Ōtomo to find the main force, Fukei would stay behind in Asuka, where he would look for his own ways to support Ōama.

Ōtomo no Muraji no Yasumaro (大伴連安麻呂)

I probably shouldn’t add this one—he’s not in this episode and the name only seems to occur once in a list with others, but it does round out the Ōtomo in the narrative.

Other key figures

A few other key figures who were not previously mentioned.

Murakuni no Muraji no Woyori (村國連男依)

(NOTE: I may have mispronounced this in the podcast as “Murakami” so I’ll go back and fix that when I get a chance) This is the general that Ōama sends out to the East—the Mino and Wohari (Owari)—to raise troops and block the Fuwa Road, at Sekigahara.

Royal Prince Takechi (高市皇子)

One of Ōama’s sons, he travels down from Ōtsu through Kafuka (modern Kōka) and meets up with the main force. He is then given command of the troops at the Fuwa pass, setting up camp at Wazami, modern Sekigahara (though this was probably shortly before the “Seki”, or barrier, was put in place that gave it its name)

Royal Prince Ōtsu (大津皇子)

Another one of Ōama’s sons. He initially is believed to be Prince Yamabe or Prince Ishikawa, when he meets his father’s forces at Suzuka. He likely followed a similar path to his brother, but just arrived later, and he may have been traveling under a false name to try and hide who he was.

Prince Takasaka (高坂王)

Takasaka was a prince, but based on his name he wasn’t the son of a sovereign, but likely a more distant descendant of one (or at least someone who claimed to be one). He was put in charge of the Okamoto (or Wokamoto) palace in Asuka. This was the palace in Asuka that would have been the seat of government up to the point that everything moved to Ōtsu. Here we see that it wasn’t entirely abandoned, and Takasaka was a caretaker. They probably hosted the court and sovereign when they were down in the area, and in the meantime seem to have been a local branch of the state government.

Ina no Kimi no Iwasuki (韋那公磐鍬), Fumi no Atahe no Kusuri (書直薬), and Osaka no Atahe no Ōmaro (忍坂直大摩侶)

These three were sent out by the Afumi court to raise troops in the Eastern Countries. Little did they know that Ōama’s men already held the Fuwa Pass. Kusuri and Ōmaro were captured, while Iwasuki fled.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 130: Jinshin no Ran, Part II: Gathering Stormclouds.

The soldier on watch was doing his best to keep alert. The night shift was never pleasant duty, and it was even less pleasant out here in the mountains. There were plenty of sounds in the night—birds and animals out in the darkness—but rarely was there much actual action. At least the sky was clear, with only the occasional cloud.
Guarding a post station was hardly the worst duty in the world. There was a decent amount of traffic: after all, they were along one of the major routes between Ise and Yamato. But at night, well, who wanted to try and navigate the mountain roads? That was a great way to fall into a river and drown, or get lost in the woods, unable to find your way back to civilization.
It must have been a shock when he saw a light in the distance. There were almost always a few fires somewhere in the village, but most of them were out or covered at this time of night, with the exception of the odd torch. But this was something more. At first the guard thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. And then he wondered if it was some kind of mountain spirit—he’d heard of ghost parades that could come and take people in the night. He shivered, and instinctively checked his own torch to ensure that it was burning well and bright. Indeed it was.
It took him a little time for his eyes to adjust again to the darkness, but now, sure enough, he saw the torches coming—and not just one, many of them, and he could now hear the faint metallic clank of metal on metal. He then heard a faint sound like a tight rope being suddenly plucked. It only just started to dawn on him what was happening when the first arrows started to rain down on his position.
They were under attack!

Welcome back. This episode we are continuing with our coverage of the Jinshin no Ran—the Jinshin War of 672—and if you haven’t already, I highly recommend you start with episode 129, where we talk about some of the background for what was happening. That said, let’s do a quick recap to bring us up to speed on where we are. And then we’ll dive into an account of an absolutely unbelievable journey, which is impressive for multiple reasons, but mostly for the speed at which it was able to take place.
So as you may recall, Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, passed away at the end of 671 after months of illness. After falling ill, the Chronicles tell us that he offered the state to his younger brother, the Crown Prince, Prince Ohoama, but Ohoama was warned that it was a trap, and as such, he turned down the offer. Instead, he retired from his position to become a monk, and left for Yoshino, taking half of his household with him. With Ohoama retired, Naka no Oe’s son, the 23 year old Prince Ohotomo, took the throne.
After Naka no Oe’s death, Ohotomo effectively ruled Yamato from the Ohotsu palace in Afumi, running things along with the ministers of the left and right, Soga no Akaye and Nakatomi no Kane, and other high ministers. Though the Nihon Shoki does not acknowledge it, Ohotomo is thought to have been a formal sovereign, in deed if not in name, at this point. Much later, he would be given the posthumous name of “Koubun Tennou”.
It would seem that Ohotomo and the Afumi court had misgivings about Prince Ohoama’s promise to retire from the world and not challenge the throne. The Nihon Shoki recounts that they began to make subtle preparations for a conflict, including levying men to build Naka no Oe’s tomb, but issuing them weapons instead of tools. They also set up checkpoints along the road from the court in Ohotsu down to Asuka—the main route to where Ohoama was residing in Yoshino. And then, finally, someone told Ohoama that they were no longer allowing Prince Ohoama’s people to cross the Uji bridge to bring him and his household supplies.
Prince Ohoama was not going to sit idly by while the Afumi court gathered up enough forces to claim he was doing something treasonous and then march on him in Yoshino. And so he sent one of his trusted vassals to the east to seek support. Meanwhile, he himself was making ready to move.
There was just one more thing before setting out: seeing if he could get posting bells. This was sparked by the words of one of his advisors, who suggested that they should be careful. They did not have many soldiers in Yoshino, and they had already sent out a general like Woyori to start raising troops in the East. At the same time, if the Afumi Court was also maneuvering, it was likely that they would have sent words to the various post stations to bar the roads and prevent any movement.
As such, Prince Ohoama decided to send several messengers to ask for Posting Bells, so that Ohoama and his men could make use of the official horses at the various post stations, allowing them to travel much more quickly and freely. However, it was not clear if such orders had come and, if they had, where the local government officiallys might place their loyalty. Of particular importance was the case of Prince Takasaka, who was in charge of the Okamoto Palace, and thus the governance of the ancient capital. He would be the one to grant posting bells if they were to receive them. If he provided the bells, then Ohoama and his party could assume they would have little to no trouble making their way East.
And so Prince Ohoama sent his evnoys to the Okamoto palace.The messengers requested posting bells, but Prince Takasaka refused to issue them. This sent a clear message to Prince Ohoama: the Afumi court had no intention of letting him and his household have free access to the roads, and the local officials in Asuka were not going to provide any support. In fact, Prince Takasaka now knew that Ohoama planned to travel, and if he wanted to, Takasaka could likely raise troops to try and stop Ohoama from leaving. At the very least he would no doubt be sending a swift horse to Ohotsu to inform the Afumi court. Ohoama and his followers would have to hurry if they wanted to do anything.
And so, on the 24th of the 6th month, the same day that he got word back about the posting bells, Prince Ohoama made the decision to move. He and his entourage left quickly—he didn’t even let anyone saddle a horse for him or prepare his carriage. He just started to head out on foot on a journey to the East – and keep in mind that everything I’m going to describe in the next few minutes happened over the course of one night, truly an epic journey for Ohoama and all of those with him..
The Chronicles lists about 20 men and over ten women who originally set out with Ohoama from Yoshino, including his wife, the Royal Princess Uno no Sarara, daughter of Naka no Oe. She wasn’t walking, however—she followed a little behind in a palanquin, or litter, carried on poles. I do wonder if those carrying the palanquin are among those mentioned, or were they servants or even enslaved persons who weren’t considered worthy of note.
The path they traveled wound its way through the mountains. Streams and rivers had carved channels and valleys into these mountains. People had settled these areas, and created paths through the wilderness. Now, the valleys were fairly well populated, with roads connecting the communities that had grown up in the nooks and hollers. These facilitated trade through the mountain communities and between the eastern and western sides of the Kii peninsula, but even still, it was difficult terrain. Unlike roads in the flat plains, the width of the roads in the mountains would have been constrained by steep mountainsides and the natural twists and turns of the valleys. There may have been rope or wooden bridges that they had to cross, as streams constantly flow down the hill sides to the river below.
This route would make it much easier to avoid any official Afumi forces that might have been sent out, as those would likely be sticking to the main roads, but there were still government outposts along the way. If these outposts proved loyal to the Afumi court, they could raise the alarm and send a messenger on horseback, who could likely flee much more quickly than Ohoama’s men could follow. And if Afumi learned that Ohoama was on the move, they could quickly mobilize their forces, secure key strategic points, and Ohoama’s mad rush would be for naught.
The path Ohoama chose would lead from Yoshino, through the valleys, up through Iga, and then over to Suzuka, in Ise—modern Mie prefecture. The journey was long and it wasn’t going to be easy, but they needed to move quickly.
Speaking of which, since Ohoama was traveling on foot, one of his men, Agata no Inukahi no Ohotomo, gave Prince Ohoama his own horse to ride. Oh, and in case you are wondering: There are a lot of people named “Ohotomo” in the narrative, not just the Prince, Ohoama’s nephew and rival for the throne. Sorry, it was apparently a somewhat popular name AND it was also a clan, or uji, name as well. I’ll try to distinguish some of them in the podcast blog page.
The party hadn’t traveled far when Ohoama’s own carriage—or possibly a palanquin, like his wife’s—showed up for him, so I assume Ohotomo got his horse back, but they were still constrained to the speed of their slowest member, and I doubt that the mountain roads were all that wide and flat—most likely just the opposite.
The group journeyed upstream along the Tsuburo river and eventually made it to Aki, in the area of Uda, due east of Sakurai and Mt. Miwa. Here they were overtaken by two men, known as Ohotomo no Muraji no Makuda and Kibumi no Muraji no Ohotomo, both hurrying on from the Yoshino Palace.
Makuda had been at the Afumi court, but word was starting to spread there that there was going to be some kind of move against Prince Ohoama, so he and his brother, Ohotomo no Fukei, had feigned illness and returned to their home in the Asuka region. Once there, Makuda had made straightaway for Yoshino, only to find that Ohoama was already on the move. Ohotomo no Fukei, on the other hand, chose to stay in the area of Asuka and see what he could do there. He was looking to see what kind of forces he could raise in the ancient capital region. We’ll learn more about him, later.
It was also in Aki, apparently, where they met Hashi no Muraji no Mate, who was from the Department of the official rice fields. Even though he was a government official, he was a supporter of Ohoama and his cause, and so he supplied Ohoama and his people with food for their journey.
Just north of the Aki fields they came upon Kammura—thought to be near modern Kaguraoka—where the Yoshino forces conscripted 20 hunters into service, almost doubling their numbers, and now they at least had some weapons with them. Prince Mino, and presumably his men, also joined forces with Ohoama and his party—their ranks were starting to grow.
In Uda, they were no doubt glad of any assistance, and at the government offices in the village of Uda itself, they were also warmly welcomed. There they found 50 pack-horses that were laden down with rice meant for the hot baths at Ise. The rice was discarded and Ohoama commandeered the pack animals so that his forces could ride, rather than walk. Nonetheless, it was still a long way to go. Indeed, night was approaching by the time they reached Ohono—likely the modern area of Muro-ohono and Ohonoji, along the Uda river. They didn’t want to stop, but it could be treacherous trying to navigate in the mountains in the dark.
What they needed was a light source. And so we are told that they pulled down some of the fences of nearby houses and created makeshift torches to light their way. Thus they were able to continue on until they reached the town of Nabari at approximately midnight.
Nabari was not quite so friendly. It was the home of a post-station, which had a duty to report things to the Afumi court. Ohoama and his men arrived with their torches and in the middle of the night they attacked and set fire to the post station. One can only imagine how surprised those manning the station must have been. Presumably Ohoama’s party took any horses and provisions, both for their own use and so that they couldn’t be used against them. To those members of the village that were woken up and who came out to see what was going on, Ohoama’s entourage proclaimed that Prince Ohoama was heading east and that people should join them. More specifically we are told that he said that the “Sumera no Mikoto” was on his way to the East Country.
I want to pause here a moment, because there are some that say that this was the first use of the term “Sumera no Mikoto”, or, as we more commonly read the characters today, “Tennou”. At the very least we believe that the term “Tennou” may have first used in this time period—though I do wonder about it being used in this particular instance. I’ll come back to this at the end, but for now, let’s get back to the story.
So Ohoama announced to the people that he, the sovereign—for he had declared himself as such—was heading to the Eastern lands, and he invited anyone who wished to join him. Nobody took him up on his offer, however. It must have sounded crazy. Ohoama had swept in at midnight, his forces carrying torches, and had attacked the post station, the symbol of the government in their midst. I imagine that the people wanted little to nothing to do with any further conflict if they could help it.
Continuing on in the darkness, Ohoama and his party came to a river—probably the Nabari River. The Chronicle refers to it as “Yokokawa”, a term that shows up multiple times, and means something like “side river” and I suspect it was just the name for a river that ran alongside the fields or something similar. As they were crossing, a dark cloud spread across the night sky for over 10 rods—about 100 feet. Ohoama kindled a light and took a look at a geomantic rule to determine what it could mean. This “rule” was possibly a type of stick or even a kind of compass-like device with a square bottom and round top, indicating the heavens and the earth. He announced to everyone that the cloud was an omen that the country would be divided into two parts but, ultimately, their side would win out.
One can only imagine how tired and worn out everyone was at this point, but apparently this urged them onward. They reached Iga, where once again, they attacked and set fire to the posting station.
Now getting through Iga must have had Ohoama’s head on a swivel. After all, Prince Ohotomo’s mother was apparently from that region – he was the Iga Royal Prince, after all - so it would be understandable if people were loyal to him. Fortunately, for Ohoama, he had his local supporters as well. In fact, Joan Piggot points out in “The Emergence of Japanese Kingship” that Ohoama may have had a surprising amount of support from the various local elites. Remember that the policies that Naka no Oe and the court had put into place had given power to court appointed officials at the expense of the traditional local elites. So it may have been that those traditional local elites were more inclined to assist Ohoama against the Afumi Court, while those appointed officials, such as those who were managing the post stations, were more likely to swing the other way, since their positions and their stipends were directly reliant on the court’s good graces.
This seems to have been the case in this instance, around Nakayama, in Iga, where we are told that they met with local district governors who had heard that Ohoama was on the move and who had raised several hundred men in support of his cause. Now their ranks really had grown—compared with the relatively small group that had first set out from Yoshino the previous day, there were now hundreds of men on the march.
Ohoama’s forces finally arrived at the plain of Tara, or Tarano, by dawn, and with the sun coming over the mountains they briefly stopped for a moment to catch their breath and eat something. They had just marched through the night—a distance of approximately 70 kilometers, or 43 and a half miles. That included stops to attack and set fire to two post stations along the way, and much of the journey early on was done on foot. During that march, their ranks had grown tremendously. This is an incredible feat, especially with much of it being accomplished at night.
Let’s also quickly discuss those extra troops that had come to his banner. Remember that prior to this, Prince Ohoama had sent messengers ahead to Mino and Owari to try and raise forces in those areas. They had likely traveled these same roadways, and told any allies they had to prepare. So while the forces were raised quickly, there were no doubt some logistics that went into it.
After a brief rest, the army was back on their feet, heading to Yamaguchi—modern Tsuge city. Here Ohoama was greeted by his son, Prince Takechi, who had come from Afumi down through Kafuka—modern Kouka, aka Kouga. He had brought several other men of his own, and presumably soldiers as well.
The entire party crossed Mt. Miyama and into Suzuka, in Ise, where they were joined by the provincial governor, Miyake no Muraji no Iwatoko; Deputy Governor, Miwa no Kimi no Kobuto, and the magistrate of the famous hot baths, Tanaka no Omi no Tarumaro, among others.
That same morning, they set a troop of 500 soldiers to guard the pass. After all, it would do them no good to have a government force suddenly appear behind them. Also, you may recall that Ohoama’s request to his allies in Mino was to take the Fuwa pass, in the north—the area more popularly known today as Sekigahara. So now, with both the Suzuka and Fuwa passes under Ohoama’s control, his forces controlled access to the Eastern countries. The only other viable route, at least if you didn’t want to get lost in the mountains, was to take the road to the north, through Koshi, and that was going to be a slog around or over the Japan Alps.
So a garrison was left as a rear guard, but the troops who were not staying to guard the pass continued, turning northwards. By sunset on the 25th day of the 6th month of 672, they had reached the foot of Kahawa Hill. Here, Ohoama’s consort, Princess Uno no Sarara, asked if they could take a break. She was not exactly used to this kind of travel, and even riding on a palanquin, she was exhausted and fatigued. As they looked to the sky, though, it was clear that dark clouds were gathering. So they cut their rest short and pushed on, hoping to make it to the government offices at Mie—likely meaning modern day Yokkaichi city.
Sure enough, as they continued to march, the heavens opened with a thunderstorm pouring down on them. The entire army was soaked to the bone. Cold and wet, when they did get to the government center or Mie district, they deliberately set fire to an entire building just so that the troops could try to warm themselves a bit. Those who had set out from Yoshino had marched over 122km, or 75 miles, including over 700 meters of elevation up and 800 meters down. Checking a map of the route, it suggests that a person walking it, today, without any breaks, would take around 28 hours to complete the trip, and indeed, Ohoama’s took roughly one and a half days. That includes time for their assaults on the various post stations, and a brief rest at the Tara fields. Now, granted, they had procured horses for parts of that, and many of the soldiers had not necessarily been there since the beginning, but it is still an incredible feat, when you think about it. I’m honestly surprised that it doesn’t get more of a mention in various historical contexts. Then again, we are still well before the age of the Samurai, which is the period most martial historians typically examine.
So that night, as they were settling in at the Mie government center following their amazing dash across the mountains, word came from forces at Suzuka: Prince Yamabe and Prince Ishikawa had apparently come to offer their allegiance to Ohoama. However, as they weren’t known to the men, they were held at the Suzuka barrier until someone could verify. Ohoama sent Michi no Atahe no Masubito to go fetch them and bring them to him.
The following morning, Ohoama worshipped towards Amaterasu on the banks of a river in the district of Asake. Thinking about it, I’m not sure if they meant that he worshipped south, in the direction of Ise Shrine, or if he worshipped east, the direction of the rising sun. The exact direction doesn’t entirely matter, but I think we will come back to this, as it would have consequences later on.
Later, Masubito returned from his errand, catching back up to the army, which was continuing on its way. It turns out that it was not Princes Yamabe and Ishikawa that Masubito had found at Suzuka, but instead Ohoama’s own son, Ohotsu, who had come along to join his father. I presume he had been traveling under a false name in case he ran into men loyal to the Afumi court. He was followed by a number of others, including a list of names which I am not going to go over here because it wouldn’t mean all that much. Suffice it to say that the Chroniclers were doing their best to make sure that various families were remembered for what they did.
Now just as Prince Ohotsu was joining the main force, Murakuni no Woyori arrived with word that 3,000 Mino troops were mobilized and currently blocking the Fuwa Road. You may recall that Woyori was the one that Ohoama had sent to Mino for just that purpose, scouting out the lay of the land.
Ohoama sent Prince Takechi ahead to Fuwa to organize the forces there. Then he sent two others to mobilize troops along the Tokaido region, and two others were sent into the mountains to levy soldiers from the Tousando region. As a quick reminder: the Tokaido was the eastern sea highway, while the Tousando, the Eastern Mountain Road, went through the middle of eastern Honshu, through the more mountainous regions. Together, these two routes would have pulled from the most populous regions of the east.
As for Ohoama, he took up residence at the government center in Kuwana, where he spent some time resting for a bit.
Now just as Ohoama was building up his forces, so, too, was the Afumi court. As soon as word made it to the capital that Ohoama was on the move, chaos ensued. Many people fled the capital, some heading to the East, perhaps to join Ohoama, while others went to hide in the mountains and marshes until all the chaos was over and the dust settled.
The young Prince Ohotomo asked the ministers what he should do, and they recommended that he immediately set out with cavalry to pursue Ohoama and catch him before he could assemble too many troops. However, he decided not to heed their advice, instead opting to assemble an army of his own, to add to the soldiers that had already been levied. He sent Ina no Iwasuki, Fumi no Kusuri, and Wosaka no Ohomaro to the East country, while Hodzumi no Momotari, his younger brother, Ihoye, and Mononobe no Hiuga headed to the Yamato capital—which is to say Asuka.
Ohotomo also sent Saheki no Wotoko to Tsukushi and Kusu no Iwate to Kibi, all with orders to levy troops. He gave Wotoko and Iwate special instructions, since there was some concern that neither Tsukushi nor Kibi would be compliant, as they both had been supported by Ohoama and may feel ties to him. So if the leaders of either of those areas were to resist, Wotoko and Iwate were authorized to execute them for treason.
As Iwasuki, Kusuri, and Ohomaro headed east, they traveled around Lake Biwa and were headed to the Fuwa pass, not knowing that it was already controlled by Ohoama’s forces. Iwasuki, however, was cautious. He realized that they might be ambushed, and so he held back from the main group. Sure enough, he was right: Kusuri and Ohomaro were ambushed and captured, at which point Iwasuki fled, barely escaping.
The following day, Prince Takechi sent a note to his father asking him to move closer to Fuwa, so that they could better communicate with the front line. Ohoama headed out, but left Princess Uno in Kuwana, which was well situated between Fuwa and Suzuka, and was likely far enough from the front lines to ensure that it wouldn’t be disrupted by skirmishes at the passes. As Ohoama then traveled through Wohari, the governor, Chihisakobe no Muraji no Sabichi, also joined him with a force of 20,000 men. Ohoama had them divided up and set them on roads to various places as needed.
Ohoama finally reached Nogami, just on the eastern edge of modern Sekigahara. This is near where Tokugawa Ieyasu would eventually make his first camp as well, at his fateful battle here just under a thousand years later. At Nogami, Ohoama would set up his headquarters, Nogami no Miya, or the Nogami Palace. Meanwhile, Prince Takechi would handle the troops in the main part of the area near the pass, known as Wazami.
As Ohoama reached Nogami, Takechi came to conference with him. He noted that there had already been an altercation—they had taken prisoners, who claimed that they were actually headed east to raise troops for Ohoama, but given that they didn’t know who they were AND that Iwasuki had fled back towards Ohotsu-kyo suggested that this was not exactly the case.
Following that incident, and a fair amount of speechifying, Ohoama eventually placed Prince Takechi formally in charge of the army, presenting him the gift of a saddle-horse. Takechi went back to his camp at Wazami. That night, a severe thunderstorm broke out. Ohoama prayed that if the kami favored his case, they would make the storm abate, and immediately the thunder and lightning stopped.
The next day, on the 28th, Ohoama traveled over to Wazami to review the troops and check on the military arrangements, before returning back to Nogami. He likewise went out the following day, issuing commands through Prince Takechi, and then returned again to Nogami.
At this point, soldiers were likely on their way from the Eastern provinces and elsewhere. On the one hand, they wanted to wait and make sure that they had all the troops they needed. But on the other hand, they didn’t want to wait too long. The Afumi court was likewise building up its forces, and the longer they waited, the greater the chance that they could dig in and entrench themselves. Something would have to happen, soon.
But that something will have to wait for the next episode.
Before we finish, though, I do want to come back to something: the title “Tenno”, or “Sumera no Mikoto”. Up to this point, evidence suggests that the term used for the sovereign of Yamato was not “Tennou” as we know it today, but instead was the term “Oho-kimi”. “Oho-kimi”, or basically the “Big Kimi”—something like the primary lord—was the one lord of lords of Yamato. But that was probably something based on local concepts of governance.
With the introduction of new ideas of governance, many based on the Han and Tang dynasty models, we see a shift in the terminology. There are poems that come from the era of Naka no Oe—Tenji Tennou—that use terms like “Huang” and “Di”—“Kou” and “Tei” in Japanese. These are imperial terms from the continent. At some point, however, we see that they use “Tian” and “Huang”. “Tianhuang” becomes “Tennou” when read in Japanese, and it critically utilizes the character “Tian” for Heaven. Interestingly, this does not appear to be a term that was ever commonly used for rulers in the area of modern China. I seem to recall that it was used here and there, but not with any frequency. There is some thought that it may have been pulled from a term for the north star, or pole star, which sometimes used the term, I suspect referring to that star as the Heavenly Ruler—the star that the heavens themselves were focused on.
For a variety of reasons, we see a particular emphasis on Heaven, and on Amaterasu, in the decades following 672, and it is thought that this is all connected. And so it is generally from some time here, in the late 7th century, that we can probably start to refer to the sovereigns as “Tennou”.
Although, it is unclear to me if the authors of the Nihon Shoki pronounced it like this or not, later glosses given for the characters in Japanese is “Sumera no Mikoto”, the kun’yomi, or Japanese reading.
The problem is that the Nihon Shoki projects this term back to the very beginning of the narrative, with “Jimmu Tennou” being the first. However, we have some evidence that the earlier term was, as as I said before, “Ohokimi”. For many years, there was an idea that the term “Sumera no Mikoto” first appeared in the era of Toyomike Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, probably because that is when Buddhism and continental studies really seem to kick off. However, there really is no evidence of its use then, and it seems that more scholars today place its use in the late 7th or early 8th century.
So there is the possibility that this title was first used by Ohoama, as some claim, when he declared that the “Sumera no Mikoto” or “Tennou” was heading to the Eastern countries. Of course, that could also just be dramatic license by the Chroniclers, who were less concerned with what, exactly, he said and more concerned with the meaning of it all. We’ve also known them to swap out older terms for those in use in the 8th century, updating the narrative.
Regardless, I think that about this time we can start to refer to the sovereigns of Yamato—and eventually Japan, or Nihon, another somewhat controversial term—as “Tennou”, or “Sumera no Mikoto”, from about this period. I’ll probably still use the term “sovereign” in general, and I’ll try to avoid the term “imperial” for anything prior to the 19th century, when it became a standard English translation. After all, Empires were the rage—Chinese, Ottoman, British, Austrian, French, Spanish, you name it. Everyone had an empire, and so Japan, following that model, must also have been an “empire”. Even today, it is officially the “Imperial Household” and that is the official translation.
However, I want to be cautious about using that translation too early, however. The institution of “Tennou”, while modeled on the Tang dynasty, took on its own character. As such, I think that it is best to avoid the term for now, because it really was its own thing, and I don’t want to conflate too many foreign concepts of “emperor” with the idea of the Japanese ruler.
As for the term “Sumera no Mikoto”—it does not appear to me that the etymology of this term is clearly known. One explanation is that “Sumera” is related to the word “Suberu”, to rule. “Sumera” is also defined as meaning something precious, though I’m not sure if that meaning existed before its use to refer to the sovereign. “Mikoto” is simply an honorific referring to the sovereign, meaning “royal” or “imperial”. I suspect that the term “Tennou” came over first, and later it became glossed as “Sumera no Mikoto”, which may have been an earlier term, but we don’t have any clear evidence. Variations do appear in the Man’yoshu, the collection of ancient poems, so the concept was clearly around by the 8th century.
Anyway, I think that’s enough. We’ll probably talk about it more when we get to the rise of the worship of Amaterasu. Until then, let’s continue with our series on the Jinshin War. Next episode we will kick off with some of the actual fighting and campaigns in Afumi, Iga, and in Yamato.
Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support.
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And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

Bauer, M. (2020). The History of the Fujiwara House: A Study and Annotated Translation of the Tōshi Kaden. Amsterdam University Press.
https://doi.org/10.1017/9781912961191.
Kuramoto, Kazuhiro (2007). 壬申の乱. 吉川弘文館. ISBN 978-4-642-06312-8.
Piggott, Joan R. (1997). The Emergence of Japanese Kingship. Stanford, Calif : Stanford University Press. ISBN9780804728324
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4.