On Kami Matters

Besides the offerings to various kami and shrines, there are specific mentions of the shrines of Hirose and Tatsuta, as well as Ise Shrine.

The shrines of Hirose and Tatsuta, in the Nara basin, appear to be focused on agriculture and harvest. This includes an apparent food kami as well as weather deities. In addition, the rituals for these deities seem to be fairly well established, occurring at the same times each year.

As for Ise, we see Princess Ōku being sent to the “abstinence palace” (斎宮) to purify herself before going to Ise Shrine. This may be the first actual instance of the tradition of sending a royal princess to be the head of the shrine, as well.

The Yoshino Covenant (吉野の盟役)

Another interesting account is the record of the Yoshino Covenant, when Ōama, Uno no Sarara, and six royal princes met and agreed to support one another. The princes were:

Prince Kusakabe (草壁皇子尊)
- Eventually the Crown Prince
Prince Ōtsu (大津皇子)
Prince Takechi (高市皇子)
Prince Kawashima (河嶋皇子)
Prince Shinokabe, aka Prince Osakabe (忍壁皇子)
Prince Shiki (芝基皇子)

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 138: Offerings and Covenants

A gentle summer breeze blew through the cherry-tree-covered hills of Yoshino valley. The royal residence, a kind of summer home for the royal family, normally somewhat quiet, was suddenly abuzz with activity. The regular groundskeepers and those who tended the site throughout the year mingled with servants sent from the capital to make it ready for a royal visit. Rooms were aired out and swept. Metal fixtures were polished. The kitchen was stocked and ready to go.
It had been some years since the prince—now sovereign—had resided in the valley as an attempt to proclaim he had retired from the world. Now he was sitting at the top of the state government, but as such, he was more often than not living in the grand palace in Asuka, which he had renovated at the start of his reign. This, the Yoshino palace, was left as more of a vacation home—though “home” hardly did it justice given its majesty compared to the meager dwellings that otherwise surrounded it.
And now there was a massive royal procession on their way. Sure, it was the sovereign and his queen, and only a handful of princes, but they would each need their own quarters and likely have their own household staff that would no doubt need to be fed and housed. In such a way a “simple” outing for the royal family was so often anything but for those who had to make it happen.
And yet, such labor was much preferred to toiling in the fields, especially as the heat of the day started to rise, and the height of summer loomed large in the all-too-immediate future.

Alright, so we are in the midst of the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, the brother of Naka no Ohoe, who came to power through the use of military force—purportedly used in self-defense—and the sovereign who would have a profound effect on solidifying the Ritsuryo state, as well as the Chronicles and the history of the archipelago as we know it. We’ve talked about Ohoama’s ascension to the throne, and even his first year. We mentioned how, during his reign, he rewarded those who helped him, tweaked the rank system, and we talked a bit about what we know of the clothing and the material culture of the period.
This episode, we continue looking at what occurred during Ohoama’s reign. Specifically we’ll be covering some of the ways in which Ohoama and his court were shaping the government and the structures of power to serve him and his family. This includes everything from ritual, such as making offerings to various kami, to the way that he seems to have centralized power to himself and his family, which would have lasting impacts through the Asuka and Nara periods.
First, though, a tiny little digression about silver. We start in the 3rd lunar month of the second year since Ohoama ascended the throne, or the year 674 by the western calendar. We are told that Woshiumi no Miyatsuko no Ohokuni, the governor of Tsushima, the island that formed the main border between the archipelago and the mainland, reported that silver had been produced there for the first time, and sent in some as tribute. This is the first recorded instance of silver being produced in Japan.
At this time, silver mining was mostly limited to finding a vein of silver on the surface and digging it out as far as one could possibly go into the rock and stone. Still, silver would eventually become an important resource for the archipelago. Tsushima would continue to produce silver through modern times. Granted, production was limited until new refining techniques were introduced from Joseon Korea in the 16th century. This was just as Ming dynasty deposits were declining, and as such, silver would become a major export from the archipelago to the mainland. Indeed, by the 17th century, it is said that Japan accounted for one quarter to one third of the entire world’s silver production.
For now, however, the discovery of native silver was certainly a good start, but the Yamato court wasn’t switching to a silver coin currency just yet—rice and cloth were still the major currencies for tax and trade purposes. Still this find seems not insignificant, and clearly the chroniclers thought so as well -- as did the court. They granted Ohokuni, the governor of Tsushima, the rank of Lower Shoukin. The silver produced by the mine was offered to the various kami of heaven and earth, and presents were made to the high ministers and others of the rank of Shoukin and above.
Now back to the Chronicles, and to the meat of what I’ll be talking about this episode.
On the 3rd day of the 8th lunar month of 674, we are told that the Royal Prince Wosakabe was sent to Isonokami shrine to polish up the divine treasures, at which point the sovereign made a rather spectacular decree: he declared that all of the precious things originally deposited in the sacred treasuries by the various houses should be returned to their descendants.
This appears to be a reference to the long-standing practice by Yamato of demanding that those they had gained some level of hegemony over turn over their sacred objects for Yamato’s keeping.    We talked about this back in episodes 19 and 29, for example, when we talked about how Mimaki Iribiko, aka Sujin Tenno, and Ikume Iribiko, aka Suinin Tenno, had both requested treasures from Izumo and elsewhere, to be stored in the treasure house of Isonokami.
We aren’t told what all of these treasures were, but we can deduce that these were sacred treasures of the different houses and localities, much as the mirror, jewel, and sword were sacred treasures of Yamato. These were items that early on distinguished the elite class in the archipelago, and had come to be gathered in the divine store houses. You may recall how, early on, we saw mentions in the Chroncles that ships sent out to meet with others from different lands would place such treasures on a makeshift tree on the deck as a way of depicting who they were—who they represented.
It would seem that these sacred objects came to represent the divine ancestors of the elites, and so eventually were associated with the idea of power and authority. As Yamato spread its influence, possibly as much through the spiritual authority of Mt. Miwa as through its economic and military capability, it seems to have demanded that the various lands that came under its sway place their sacred treasures in Yamato’s storehouse—a powerful image of Yamato’s authority. In a sense, this was a kind of hostage situation: recognize our authority, or your most sacred treasures, representing your ancestors, will be at risk . One wonders if this isn’t part of the reason that we find buried caches of bronze ritual items, including weapons, bells, and other such things, perhaps as a means of keeping them safe from those who would steal them away.
However, in the new era of the Ritsuryo system, those objects, while still considered divine and sacred, did not hold the same value as they once had. Perhaps I’m reading too much into it, but this really seems to me to be particularly illustrative of the idea that the cultural imaginary of state power and authority had shifted. Yamato’s power and authority was no longer based on its role as a spiritual powerhouse as much as it was centered on the continental framework of a heavenly mandate and a system of laws and punishments.
And so, the sovereign could return the sacred items back to their descendants, because to do so did not cost him anything, and at the same time would no doubt earn him goodwill. He could appear magnanimous and, in so doing, solidify his position as the supreme hegemon of this new state. In many ways this acknowledged the importance of the divine treasures to the people and to the kami while also no doubt reinforcing Confucian stereotypes of the benevolent ruler.
More importantly, this shows how Ohoama was restructuring the rituals of the state. After all, he had the Jingikan, an entire governmental department dedicated to administering the various shrines and sacred rituals; so even if the sacred treasures were returned, they were still technically under the control of the state apparatus. We’ve already talked about the Daijosai, the Feast of First Fruits for a new reign, a central ritual to which Ohoama had added further pomp and circumstance. But as no less a scholar than Herman Ooms has written about, Ohoama also initiated the practice of ordering regular centralized offerings to not just one particular kami, but to several or even a number of kami, or shrines, at any given time. We see this in the following year, on the 23rd day of the first lunar month of 675, in an almost off-hand remark. Later, in the 10th month of 676 offerings were made to all of the “Ahimbe” kami of Heaven and Earth—that is all of kami that were part of the festival of first fruits held on the first day of the rabbit on the 11th lunar month. Offerings were also made to all of the Heavenly and Earthly kami on the second day of the year in 681.
Of course, these offerings would not just be enriching the shrines of these various kami, but it would also reflect on the various uji connected to each of those shrines, as well.
Another example of the court’s involvement in these ritual innovations appears to be the worship of the deities at Tatsuta and Hirose. The first example of that is also in 675, in the 4th month of that year. Prince Mino and Saheki no Muraji no Hirotari were sent to the Wind-gods at Tateno, in Tatsuta. Aston notes that there is a litany to the Wind-gods mentioned in the Engishiki, a 10th century collection of information on various rituals of the time, so this practice seems to have taken hold, at least enough to persist over 3 centuries later.
Also in the 4th month of 675, Hashibito no Muraji no Ohobuta and Sone no Muraji no Karainu were sent to worship the Oho-imi deity at Kahawa, in Hirose. The Oho-imi appears to be a “big abstinence” deity, whom Aston identifies with Waka’ukahime, responsible for food. Worship is again paid twice in the year 676, once in 677, then twice again in 679, continuing twice a year, almost exclusively in the 4th and 7th lunar months, through the end of the reign. Why were these particular deities chosen for special worship by the court? Ooms notes that these shrines were built downstream along the Yamato river, which, along with its tributaries, was responsible for the irrigation of the crops in the Nara basin. This mirrors, in some ways, the responsibility of rulers in the Yellow River and Yangzi river regions to help ensure the flow of the rivers while preventing devastating flooding – a very continental idea of the responsibilities of the sovereign, though expressed here with a particularly Japanese style.
Indeed, Aston associates the deity at Hirose, with the deity of food.   Likewise, the Wind-deities at Tatsuta were also related to helping to grow crops. After all, Tatsuta would have been situated near the break in the mountains that surrounds the Nara basin, where the Yamato River flows out towards the Kawachi plain. As anyone who lives near a mountain gap is no doubt familiar, those areas are notorious for channeling weather phenomena, including storms, which can bring rain, but could also bring terrible winds. So it does seem a natural point to pray for good weather for your harvest or otherwise, given the geography that made up the sovereign’s world.
We also have, in this reign, considerably more discussion of Ise than we’ve seen, previously. In 673 we have the Royal Princess Ohoku no Himemiko entering the Saigu, the Abstinence, or Purification, Palace, where she was to be purified before going to Ise, which she did in the 10th lunar month of 674. Ohoku is said to have been the first official Saiou, the unmarried royal princess sent to oversee shrine operations, of Ise Shrine. This is a practice we see at multiple shrines, although it’s most prominent at Ise. The term for the position in general is Saiou, although at Ise the royal princess would also be known as the Saiguu, after the purification palace.
Although Ohoku is said to have been the first Saiguu at Ise, this is muddied somewhat by some earlier mentions in the Chronicles. There are those who are said to have been sent as Shrine Princesses to Ise back in the time of Mimaki Iribiko and Ikume Iribiko, but the process was largely discontinued—or at least rarely mentioned—until this period. There are certainly several named individuals who are said to have served the Deity of Ise previously, starting with the presumably mythical Yamato Hime, who is credited with founding the shrine. There are also various royal princesses are noted as either having served or as having been made ineligible due to their indiscretions.
However, those earlier mentions rarely go into the detail we see here —starting with the abstinence hall, where the would-be Shrine Princess must purify herself prior to approaching the shrine, a process that took some time. Certainly we first really see this put into action with Ohoku, and from that time the position of Saiguu or Saiou at Ise does appear to have been regularly filled.
That Ohoku was actually the first “Saiguu” shrine princess appears to be confirmed by the “Fusou Ryakki”, which states that the first Saiou was appointed when then Prince Ohoama, in the midst of the Jinshin war, made a prayer to Ise and offered the royal princess Ohoku no Himemiko in exchange for victory. In fact, a lot of the focus on Ise seems to stem from its apparent involvement, at the behest of either Ohoama or his consort, Uno no Sarara Hime, in the conflict.
The following year we are told that the Royal Princesses Towochi and Abe proceeded to Ise Shrine as well, though presumably just for a brief visit. Towochi, you may recall, was Ohoama’s daughter who had been married to Ohotomo, aka Koubun Tennou, whom Ohoama had defeated to take the throne. Abe was a daughter of Naka no Oe, half-sister to Ohoama’s queen, Uno, and would eventually go on to marry the Crown Prince, Kusakabe. That gives you some idea of the position of those were going to the shrine.
Princess Towochi herself would fall ill a few years later in 678. In fact, it was just as the sovereign himself was preparing to go pay a visit to the abstinence palace, perhaps so that he could also head out to Ise. The court had a divination to figure out when he would leave, officers had cleared the roads, and the public functionaries were in a line of procession when word came that Princess Towochi, suddenly took ill and died within the palace. This stopped everything in its tracks, and in that year there was no sacrifice made to the kami of heaven and earth. I suspect that this was in part due to mourning and in part due to the pollution more generally associated with death. Two weeks later, she was buried at Akaho, and Ohoama raised a lament for her.
Later, in 686, we are told that the Royal Princess Taki, the Princess Yamashiro no Hime, and the Lady Ishikawa were all sent to Ise Shrine, though Princess Taki returned in less than a fortnight.
Why all this focus on Ise? Remember that the Chronicles were begun in this era, and so the “truth” they would tell would be the truth that Ohoama and his immediate successors orchestrated. The focus on Amaterasu, her shrine at Ise, and the role of the sovereign as Heavenly Descendant was thus part of the overarching narrative that the Chroniclers tried to promote.
Still, hints that the focus on Ise shrine may have been something largely created in this era, however, are scattered throughout the existing literature, despite the Chroniclers’ best efforts. For one thing, it is fairly clear that early on, the focus in the Chronicles is on Mt. Miwa and the deity Ohomononushi, rather than Amaterasu. We also see the fingerprints of deities like Takami no Musubi, who in one story is the one who is actually responsible for sending the Heavenly Grandchild down to earth in the first place.
It also seems telling that Amaterasu is not mentioned in earlier court rituals. Worship of Amaterasu by the royal family takes place at Ise shrine. Meanwhile, there are various rituals preserved within the traditions of the palace that include many other, seemingly older deities.
I have also noted in the past how Ise shrine isn’t even the primary shrine of Ise no Kuni. In fact, that is claimed by Tsubaki shrine, the shrine to Saruta Hiko no Ohokami, with a separate shrine to Ame no Uzume, who are both said to have met the heavenly grandchild on his descent.
None of this is to say that Ise Jingu was brand new at the time of the Chronicles’ writing —there does seem to have been a shrine on that spot for some time, though even the Chronicles suggest that it might have been moved from a shrine originally housed in the Nara basin. It is also possible, and even likely, that the rise of Ise and Amaterasu coincided with other trends at the time. Even if the Sun Goddess had not always been centered in Yamato ritual, she was not a new deity, and it may have been the case that her prominence, and that of her shrine in Ise had been growing in prominence before this time, and so the court was now adopting that popularity for themselves. Of course, Ohoama and Uno don’t exactly spell out what they were attempting to achieve, beyond the unification of the archipelago, more broadly. How, exactly, their focus on Ise Shrine was meant to play into that I don’t know that I could fully state, but it certainly seems to have allowed the sovereign to create a new cultic focus for kami worship with a story that touched on regions from Kyushu all the way to the eastern shore of the Kii peninsula.
Given the decentralized nature of kami worship, I don’t believe it was possible to completely rewrite all of the stories—hence the numerous and conflicting accounts given in the Chronicles. However, that is also what would have made it easier to hide newly fabricated—or perhaps simply exaggerated—stories in the mix. And of course, it wasn’t necessarily that the Chroniclers were creating things out of whole cloth, but they were able to choose those things that people would remember and what would be lost and forgotten over time. They had to make the decision, for instance, which story they told was the “main” storyline, and which were listed as coming from “other books”, implying a degree of separation from the truth.
Through all of this, it certainly seems that propping up the royal family and its lineage was a central focus—even if that lineage was largely something that had recently been created. As a reminder, we see a lot heavier reliance at this point on royal princes as opposed to other elite families, and an actual or implied reliance, in particular, on the royal family, as that is where Ohoama was consolidating most of the power and authority.
Kitayama Shigeo coined the term “Koushin Seiji” to refer to this idea of a consolidated royal—or imperial—family managing the affairs of state. Literally it is something like “Imperial Family Government”.   In Shigeo’s concept this was specifically an autocratic authority executed by the sovereign, and those of his immediate family. Of course, writing in the post-war era, it is more than a little likely that Shigeo and others were looking at the concept of Tennou in the 20th century compared with many other world monarchs. In that vein, the Asuka and Nara periods do seem to have been one of the rare times—perhaps even the last time—that the sovereigns had such a direct hand in the government and the making and establishment of law and tradition.
That said, not everyone ascribes entirely to the idea that Ohoama was a completely autocratic despot—after all, it was clear that there were still plenty of powerful families in the archipelago, and the Ritsuryo state itself was also being strengthened. Still, it does seem that Ohoama had brought his queen, Uno no Sarara, and his descendants into government. And they would not only assist him, but continue his work for the next generations, such that even though the histories would not be finished until well after Ohoama’s death, they would still show his influence on events.
The dedication of the royal family to work as one is perhaps most clearly demonstrated in the events of the 5th lunar month of 679. It was then that the sovereign, and his family, proceeded to the Yoshino Palace.
Now Ohoama had plenty of offspring—among them 10 sons. And as long as he was around, there would be a certain amount of civility, but he knew all too well how things could break down after a sovereign’s death. And so he brought them together and he made them enter into a pact, which we know as the Yoshino Covenant, or Yoshino no Meiyaku. Besides Ohoama himself, there were several others in attendance, presumably those who might stand to one day inherit the realm. These included his partner and queen, Uno no Sarara Hime, as well as her son, Prince Kusakabe, who would be named Crown Prince, only a couple of years later. It also included the Royal princes Ohotsu, Takechi, Kawashima, Osakabe, and Shiki. All of these individuals were made to swear an oath to support each other, even though they were all from different mothers, and they agreed.
But so what? Why does it matter? It is all well and good that Ohoama brought them together for a bit of kumbaya in his old digs away from the capital, but was there anything really to this covenant.
This covenant is significant in several ways. First off, it is clear that Ohoama was pulling in his family and trying to ensure they were onboard with what he was doing and what was planned. Furthermore, it set out a clear line of succession, something that had not really been done up to this point. We have ideas on what would have made a candidate eligible, but other than naming a particular crown prince there hasn’t exactly been any clear process or rules of precedence for who would assume the throne. Here, though, we have a list that appears to be in order of precedence, since it otherwise may not seem to make sense, at least from a modern perspective.
A key clue in the Chronicles is often the order of the names. The most important or highest ranking person is usually given first, and then names are typically given in descending order of precedence. There are clues that this is the case, but it becomes even more stark when we actually see reference to an individual’s court rank or the size of their fief. Since this period brings about court rank even for royal princes, we have some of that, at least in later records. As such, there is the idea that this order was actually providing for a line of succession.

As I mentioned, up to this point, the contest for the throne was a toss up with each monarch’s death. Claims from competing princes were often considered equally valid until one proved their claim through a political or military victory. Ohoama appears to have been trying to add greater structure to this. Specifically, we see that Uno no Sarara’s son, Kusakabe, is given pride of place. In fact, throughout the Chronicle it is typical that we see the Chroniclers designate a queen—a Kougou—that is considered the primary wife. This queen is almost always found to be the descendant of previous royalty, granting their child a doubly royal lineage, through both the maternal and paternal lines.   There has been plenty of reason to doubt that this was actually the case, and it often seems like the Chroniclers stretched things more than a bit to make it all work out. However, now we are almost more concerned with the very truth that the Chroniclers were attempting to burn into the social consciousness rather than the historical facts, because that gives us direct insight into how the court of the day viewed succession and legitimacy.And that does lead to another possible thought: since the Chroniclers knew how things turned out it is possible that they were the ones ensuring that the order was as we have it. So we cannot definitively say that this exactly mirrors’s Ohoama’s idea, but it certainly seems in line with his history and intentions and helps set the stage for us, at least, regarding what would later transpire in regards to succession..
Getting back to the covenant, as I noted, the first person listed, after Ohoama and Uno no Sarara Hime, is Prince Kusakabe. He would be about 17 or 18 years old at this time, which is probably why he wasn’t formally named Crown Prince until a couple of years later. He isn’t the eldest son, however. Rather he was the second son. Ohoama’s eldest son, Prince Takechi, was actually third in line. Takechihad been with his father helping to lead the troops during the Jinshin War. While he was some 8 years senior to Kusakabe, he was nonetheless a son of Amago no Musume, one of Ohoama’s consorts from a powerful clan, but not a royal princess like Uno no Sarara, Kusakabe’s mother.
Between Kusakabe and Takechi, in the second place spot for succession, was actually Prince Ohotsu, whom we also mentioned during the Jinshin War. Ohotsu was likely 16-17 years old around this time. While he was the third eldest child, he, like Kusakabe, was the son of a Royal Princess, Princess Ota, daughter of Naka no Oe, giving him greater bonafides than Takechi, apparently.
So, in the top three slots, we have: Ohoama’s eldest son by a royal mother, Ohoama’s second eldest son by a royal mother, and finally Ohoama’s eldest son by a non-royal mother.
Fourth in line, and the 4th eldest, presumably, though I don’t know that we have an actual age for him, is Prince Wosakabe. He likely wasn’t too young, however, as he had been given the task, previously, to polish the divine treasures in Isonokami’s storehouse.
It would appear that six of Ohoama’s other sons didn’t even get a mention. That includes Princes Naga and Yuge, born to another daughter of Naka no Ohoe, Ohoye no Himemiko. Then there is Prince Toneri, son of Royal Princess Nittabe, not to be confused with Royal Prince Nittabe, Ohoama’s son by way of a daughter of Fujiwara no Kamatari. Finally there was Royal Prince Hodzumi, a maternal grandson of Soga no Akaye, and Prince Shiki, a full brother to Prince Wosakabe.
Prince Toneri is particularly conspicuous in his absence. We know that he held the 5th rank, and two positions in government—that of Nagon, or Councillor, as well as the Minister of the Household, our Kunaikyou. This may be because he was not doing so well. We aren’t told the story until the following year, on the 2nd day of the 7th lunar month of 680, when we are told that Prince Toneri took ill and was on the point of death. His half-brother, Prince Takechi, went to check on him, and a day later Toneri passed away. The way these are written it would be easy to believe that it all happened in a pretty short timeframe, but it is also just as likely that illness lingered, especially without modern medicine. So it is possible that Prince Toneri was too sick at the time of the original covenant, though there could be some other reason we weren’t told.
This doesn’t necessarily hold for all of the others, though. For instance, we have the Princes Naga and Yuge mentioned in 693, well over a decade later, being granted the 2nd Broader Pure Rank at the same time that Prince Takechi is granted the 1st Broader Pure Rank. So we can at least see that they were ranked below Takechi.   Similarly we see Prince Hodzumi likewise attained 2nd Broader Pure Rank at some point, and was still around to have his own fief and to receive houses to it in the following reign. Hozumi even ranked above some of the others were in Yoshino, and yet was not present.
It is possible that the princes not mentioned, assuming they had not met with an untimely end that was not mentioned in the record somewhere, could have been too young or too junior at the time of the meeting. After all, when we look at the known ages of those who were there, we see that Prince Takechi may have been 25 years old, but Prince Kusakabe and Prince Otsu were just under 20, and it is unclear if others were older or younger than they were.
There are two other princes who were part of the covenant who were not, perhaps surprisingly, sons of Ohoama. Rather they were his nephews, sons of Ohoama’s brother, Naka no Ohoe. They were the princes Kawashima and Shiki.
Kawashima is mentioned several times throughout the record. Kawashima’s mother was from a high ranking noble family, but given that Kawashima was married to his cousin, one of Ohoama’s daughters, that may have brought him closer to the family. He was about 22 years old at the time, too. We see him often teaming up with Prince Osakabe on various projects, including the project to compile together the history of the royal household. In fact, Prince Kawashima always precedes Prince Osakabe when they are mentioned together. That said, we have evidence of Kawashima only being awarded up to 3rd Greater Pure rank, below even that of some who were not present, such as Prince Hodzumi. His importance and impact, however, is noted through his numerous appearances in the record.
In contrast, Prince Shiki has almost no mentions in the record. It doesn’t help that there are two Princes Shiki, one born to Naka no Ohoye and one born to Ohoama. Their names are spelled differently, however, and although the first character of “Shiki” used in the Yoshino record matches neither name, the second character suggests that this was the son of Naka no Ohoye and not the Shiki that was brother to Prince Osakabe—though given that one followed the other in the record, there may have been some confusion on this point.
And with all of that we have our apparent line of succession, as well as an idea of who the movers and shakers might be within the royal family. From Ohoama and Uno no Sarara, we have Princes Kusakabe, Ohotsu, Takechi, Kawashima, Osakabe, and Shiki. Six princes, four directly descended from the current sovereign, Ohoama, and two from the Naka no Ohoe lineage.
Obviously, promoting the idea of a strictly patrilineal succession of father to son would have caused some problems for Ohoama’s own legitimacy, not that anyone was going to gainsay him while he was on the throne. However, with Kusakabe they seem to have established that in a de facto format, at least. Furthermore it provided a blueprint for succession might fall to the other lines should the main line not work out. This put Prince Ohotsu as next in line, should anything happen to Kusakabe, followed by Takechi. That Kawashima may have had a shot over Osakabe and then Shiki is interesting as it suggests that it wasn’t strictly about who descended from whom.
We’ll have to wait for Ohoama’s death before we can fully appreciate how well this worked, of course. Throughout history, agreements and covenants amongst powerful interests are often only as permanent as long as all of the interests remain aligned with one another, whether through mutual benefit or threat of consequences. Once the power shifts, as it always does, those promises and treaties are almost always up for renegotiation, unless they are supported by some higher authority, whatever that might be.
Following the royal family’s off-site, they returned to the palace in Asuka. There they had a formal ceremony in the Great Hall, the Ohodono, where the six princes all demonstrated their allegiance and paid respects to Ohoama. Given the timing of this event, one can likely assume that it was a kind of public acknowledgement of the covenant and the agreement that they would all be working together as a united front on the project of the government.
And with that, I think we can bring it to a close for now. There is plenty more about this reign to discuss before we move on, but we’ll get there.
Until then, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode.
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Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast.
And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

Bentley, John R. (2025). Nihon Shoki: The Chronicles of Japan. ISBN 979-8-218634-67-4 pb
宮崎, 健司. (2025). 地図でスッと頭に入る飛鳥・奈良時代. 株式会社昭文社.
Teeuwen, Mark and Breen, John. (2017). A social history of the Ise shrines: divine capital. Bloomsbury Academic.
Como, M. (2009). Weaving and binding : immigrant gods and female immortals in ancient Japan. University of Hawaiʻi Press.
Ooms, H. (2009). Imperial Politics and Symbolics in Ancient Japan: The Tenmu Dynasty, 650-800. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press. https://muse.jhu.edu/book/8316.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4.

On Kami Matters

The Yoshino Covenant (吉野の盟役)

Rough Transcript

References