Asukadera, aka Hōkōji (飛鳥寺・法興寺)

Later known as Gangōji (元興寺), the name used by the transferred temple, today, in modern Nara city. This temple was founded by Soga no Umako on part of the Soga family estate. The Gangōji Garan Engi, which tells the story of the founding of Gangōji, is also the document that gives us the date 538 for the earliest reference for Buddhism in the archipelago. Today, the site of Asukadera is still occupied by a much smaller temple, which contains an image thought to have been one of those from the original temple. The rest of the temple buildings have long been lost and only a small part of the previous compound is currently occupied.

Kudara Ōdera, aka Takechi Ōdera, aka Daikandaiji (百済大寺・高市大寺・大官大寺)

This temple would later be known as Daianji (大安寺) after it was moved up to modern Nara city, and it is through the records of that temple that we get confirmation that helps us understand its history. There is still a lot of speculation as to the various locations that this temple stood. It appears that the temple ruins at Kibi Pond are the most likely. It was later moved to somewhere in Takechi district, and renamed Takechi Great Temple. Then it was likely moved one more time, though by that point it was already known as Daikandaiji, the Great Temple of the Royal Court.

Kawaradera (川原寺)

This temple we know the least about in terms of its founding. If there was a comparable “Garan Engi”, it seems to have been lost, and the Nihon Shoki does not go into much detail on it. It is the only temple of the four that was not transferred to the new capital in Nara. Today, you can see the foundations at the old temple site, though a new, much smaller temple, Gufuku-ji, has been built on top.

Yakushiji (薬師寺)

A temple specifically to Yakushi Nyorai (薬師如来), aka the Medicine Buddha, it was the last of the four built, and was dedicated in order to gain merit for Ōama’s wife, Queen Uno no Sarara, who had taken ill. It would not be completed until after Ōama’s death. It was built in conjunction with the new Fujiwara capital that they were building around the same time, and you can go see the site where we believe it was. When it was moved to modern Nara it kept its name and appears to have largely kept its layout as well.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 142: The Four Great Temples

Rising up into the sky, the bronze spire atop the pagoda seemed to touch the heavens. The beams, doors, and railings were all painted bright red, with white walls, and green painted bars on the windows. At each level, the eaves swept out, covered in dark ceramic tiles, with shining bronze plaques covering the ends of the roof beams. At each corner, a bronze bell hung, chiming in the breeze. This pattern continued upwards, tier after tier.
Around the base of the pagoda, throngs of government officials dressed in their formal robes of office moved past, flowing through the temple’s central gates. As they passed, they looked up at the impressive tower, the largest of its kind in all of Yamato. From somewhere, a deep bell chimed, and the crowds made their way towards the lecture hall. There, the monks were prepared, with sutras and voices at the ready. Facing a sacred image, they would read through their sutras in unison. Their voices would carry through the great empty space and reverberate through the crowds—those that could get close enough to hear, anyway. The chanting created a musical cacophony.     In that sea of human voices, one could almost sense something more—something spiritual. A power, that one could almost believe could hold at bay just about any disaster that could befall a person—or even the state itself.

Alright, so this episode we are still in the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou. I know we’ve already seen how that ends, but there is still a lot to cover.
But before I go too far, I’d like to first give a shout out to Lisa for helping to support the show on Ko-Fi. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it. If you would like to support us as well, we’ll have more information at the end of this, and every episode.
We’ve talked about how the reign of Ohoama was a time where the court reinforced, but also subtly adjusted, the laws of the Ritsuryo state. They seem to have equally courted the Kami, Buddhism, and even continental ideas of yin and yang. Today we are going to dive into Buddhism and the State. More specifically, I want to talk about something called the Yondaiji, the Four Great Temples, and look at how these government temples, also known as “kanji” or “Tsukasa no dera” came to be, what we know about them from archaeological research, and the role they played in the State. This is going to probably recap things from earlier episodes. I am also drawing a lot from a book by Donald F. McCallum called, appropriately, “The Four Great Temples”, which goes into a lot more detail than I’ll be able to get into, here, but I recommend it for those who are really interested in this subject.
Up to this point, we’ve talked a little about the relationship that the court had with Buddhism. By the late 7th century, Buddhism had spread throughout the archipelago, and there were many temples likely created by local elites. Sensoji, in Asakusa, Tokyo, claims a founding of 628, though it may have actually been founded sometime just after 645. There are other temples around Japan, far from the Home Provinces, which likewise had similar claims to being founded in the early to late 7th century, and I question how much a role the government had in each of them.
. In 673, there were two temple-related mentions of note in the Chronicles. In one of Ohoama’s earliest edicts he orders the copying of the Issaiko, the Buddhist canon, at Kawaradera.   That same year, 673, Prince Mino and Ki no Omi no Katamaro—whom we discussed last episode—were sent to build Takechi temple, later known as Daikandaiji. I mention Daikandaiji specifically because
while it was originally built as the Temple of Takechi, at some point took on that other name—“Daikandaiji”, aka Ohotsukasa no Ohodera—which Aston translates as the “Great Temple of the Great Palace”, as it appears to have specifically been designated as the great temple of the government. In other words, it is one of a few National Temples. And this became particularly important in the year 680, which is the year we are told the government stopped administering—and, more importantly, stopped funding—all but a handful of so-called “national temples”. At this point, as I’ve mentioned, Buddhism was widespread enough that there were enough adherents that could maintain their own local temples. Of course, local elites likely found some cachet in funding temples, and communities of believers in various areas would likewise have been asked to provide funds as well.
So the court accordingly declared that going forward, the government would only administer 2 or 3 national temples. For all other temples, if tthey had been granted the proceeds of sustenance-fiefs, those would be limited, from the first year to the last, of 30 years in total. As I read it, that indicates that if they had received the fiefs 15 years ago, they would be allowed to hold onto them for another 15 years, after which point they would need to find alternative sources of funding.
The early national temples appear to be Daikandaiji and Kawaradera. Finally, there is Yakushiji, which Ohoama began construction on in 680 for his queen, Uno no Sarara, when she was ill—and just hold on to that for now. Interestingly, Asukadera, or Houkouji, in many ways the original national temple, was not designated as such in the new reorganization, but it would continue to be administered by the government as a temple in a special arrangement. That’s why the original count in the Nihon Shoki mentions “2 or 3” national temples instead of four.
These four temples are mentioned in the Shoku Nihongi, the Chronicles following the Nihon Shoki, as the Four Great Temples, or Yondaiji. Although that work wasn’t compiled and published until the end of the 8th century, the term Yondaiji appears in an entry for 702, about five years after the last entry in the Nihon Shoki, and over a decade before its publication
So at this point we’re going to look at each of these “great” temples individually, plus a couple of other important ones, and what they tell us about the history of Buddhism, Buddhist temples, and the Yamato state at this point in Ohoama’s reign.
The first of these four temples, chronologically, is Asukadera. This is the temple originally built by the Soga, and the first major Buddhist temple built. Its layout shows three separate golden image halls, or kondou. And here we should probably recap something about the general layout of a Buddhist temple, so we can understand what we are talking about.
The most important buildings in a Buddhist temple at this time were the kondou, the golden image halls; the pagoda, or stupa; and the koudou, or lecture hall. The golden image halls held golden Buddhist images—Buddhas, Boddhisatvas, Arthats, and more. These rooms are often somewhat dark, and would have been lit mainly by candles, as well as the sun coming through—though even then the sun often is obscured by overhanging rooves and latticework. Sometimes the doors would have small openings so that the sun’s rays strike in a particular way at different times. All of this presents an image of bright gleaming gold in the darkness—a metaphor for the teachings of the Buddha, but also an intentionally awe inspiring display for those who came to view them and pray.
The kondo were usually the first structures to be built for a temple, so if your temple had nothing else, it probably had an image hall.
The next structure that one would probably build would be the stupa, or pagoda. A pagoda was a tower, in which were sometimes kept images, but more importantly, it would often hold some kind of relic. The idea of the stupa originated as a place to house relics—often bone fragments and teeth attributed to the Buddha, even if those were actually precious stones. Stupas were originally (and still, in many places) large mounds, but as Buddhism made its way over the Silk Road, these were replaced with multi-tiered towers. Pagodas are often 3 or 5 storeys, though the number of stories can go up to 7 or 9 or as low as 1.    Once again, in a world where most buildings, other than perhaps a specially made lookout tower, were only one or maybe two stories in height, a three to five story pagoda must have been something to behold, especially covered with tiled eaves, adorned with bronze bells, and brightly painted in the continental fashion.
In Europe I would point to similar uses of gold and ostentatious ornamentation on the cathedrals of the day, and even in churches more generally, if on a smaller scale. This is meant to impress and thus lend authority to the institution. And of course, because that institution was so closely aligned to the State, it gave the State authority as well. We mentioned, previously, how the monumental structures of the kofun had given way to the Buddhist temples as a form of ritual display.
The last of the three buildings I would mention is the lecture hall, or Koudou. This would also likely have Buddhist images, but it was more of a functional hall for conducting rituals, including recitation of sutras and presenting Buddhist teachings. The koudou was often at the back or north end of the temple complex. In early Buddhist temple layouts, it was common to have everything in a straight line, more or less, and to remain symmetrical. So there would be a main gate through which one would enter. In front of you there you probably saw the pagoda. Beyond the pagoda was a path, and then the kondou, or image hall, typically with a lantern in front, and behind that was the koudou, or lecture hall.
This was all typically oriented on a north-south axis, such that one would enter through the southern gate and walk north towards the lecture hall. The north-south orientation is likely another feature from the continent, where the most important buildings were often south-facing, and thus in the north of the compound. This was the same with the palace layout, and likely for similar reasons—not just cultural, but also practical. After all, the sun, in the northern hemisphere, remains slightly to the south, and so this would have provided the most light through the day.

This layout was not strictly adhered to, however. For instance, if we look at Asukadera, you would enter through the southernmost gate and you were then met with another gate for an inner compound. This middle gate would lead you to a large courtyard, about 320 meters on a side, with a covered walkway, or gallery, along the entire circumference of the compound. Entering through the middle gate one would have first noticed the large pagoda and not one but three golden image halls. A path led to the pagoda, and then beyond from the pagoda to the central kondou. There is even a stone where a large bronze lantern was likely situated between the pagoda and the kondou. Based on archaeological evidence, it appears that there was originally just one image hall, directly north of the pagoda, but at a later date, they added two more kondou to the east and west of the pagoda. This has been compared to a temple layout found in Goguryeo, but given that these were likely later additions, and we know that Baekje artisans were involved, I suspect that is just later coincidence.
Connecting the layout of the temples to continental examples has been a keen area of study for many scholars. The general theory is that temple layouts can help point to whether there was more of a Baekje, Silla, or Goguryeo influence during the construction of the temple, and what that might have meant for Yamato’s international relations as well as various political factions in the court who may have leaned more towards one group or another.
The last building at Asukadera, the koudou, or lecture hall, was directly north of the kondou, but you couldn’t get there directly. The entire pagoda and image hall compound was separate from the lecture hall, which stood north and apart, though still on the temple grounds, which would have been surrounded by an outer wall.

At this point, since we’re talking about the layout of Asukadera and where it came from, I’m going to digress from the next of the four great temples and talk about two other early temples that are important for understanding Buddhist temple building at this time. So bear with me for this slight detour.
The first of these is Shitennoji, the Temple of the Four Heavenly Kings, in modern Osaka. This temple is said to have been built in 593, and is attributed to Shotoku Taishi. Presumably he made a vow to do so during the war between the Soga and the Mononobe, which we discussed back in episode 91. As you may recall from that and earlier episodes, the Mononobe were considered to be against the idea of Buddhism, while the Soga were promoting it.
Shitennouji was important, but doesn’t show up in the Chronicles as much as other temples, and was all the way over in Naniwa. As such, I suspect that it was not considered a good candidate for “national” temple status at the time. Still, if we look at the original layout, Shitennoji is quite similar to what we see in Asukadera. Everything is on a north-south axis. You go through a middle gate to the inner compound. There you find a pagoda, and past that, a lantern and then the kondou. Unlike Asukadera, the koudou, or lecture hall, is incorporated into the back wall, such that the gallery continues from the middle gate around to either side, and then meets at the sides of the lecture hall. There are also east and west gates, as well as other buildings, but the main layout is pretty comparable.
The second is another temple, which also lays claim to being founded by Prince Shotoku Taishi, and which was not included in the four great temples. This may have had to do with the fact that it wasn’t in the Asuka valley, but also may have had to do with just the timing. That temple is the famous one known as Horyuji. Horyuji was founded on the site of the Ikaruga palace, said to have been the home of none other than Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi. As such, one imagines it was quite the prominent temple in its day. However, it was at a distance from the capital, and it also had the misfortune to have burned down in about 670, just before Ohoama ascended the throne, and it wasn’t fully rebuilt until about 711, leaving a forty year gap where the temple was not necessarily at the forefront of Buddhism.
Still, like Shitennoji, it is interesting to look at the original layout for Horyuji and compare it to Asukadera. First off, you have the same north-south orientation, and you have the same separate, internal compound for the image hall and the pagoda. Unlike in Asukadera, however, the kondou and the pagoda, which both faced south, were on an east-west axis, flanking the central pathway. Entering through the middle gate one would have seen a five storey pagoda on the left and the kondo on the right. The Koudou was outside the inner compound in the rear, along that central north-south axis. There is also evidence of two other buildings. One likely held a large bell—and possibly a drum—and the other was likely a sutra repository, where they could keep holy texts and various ritual implements.
I will also note that, even though Horyuji burned down in 670 and was accordingly not that prominent during Ohoama’s reign, it is absolutely worth visiting because substantial portions of those rebuilt buildings are still standing today. Indeed, both the Horyuji pagoda and kondou are among the oldest wooden buildings in the world. The central pillar of the pagoda was felled in 594 according to dendrochronological dating. The kondou was damaged by fire during a restoration in 1949, but about 15-20% of the original building from 670 still remains.
Going back to the Great Temples, the next of these to be built was Kudara Ohodera. Kudara here means “Baekje”, but this appears to refer more to the temple’s location near the Kudara river, rather than to the kingdom of Baekje. Kudara Ohodera is remarkable in a couple of different ways. First off, there is the fact that it is the first temple with a firm royal lineage—that is to say a temple that claims to have been founded by the sovereign. Asukadera was founded by Soga no Umako, the Prime Minister, and though Prince Umayado is said to have been the Crown Prince, nonetheless, he never reigned as sovereign, though he was considered the founder of both Shitenouji and Houryuuji. Kudara Ohodera, however, is said to have been founded at the behest of Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, who reigned from 629-641. The temple appears to get its start in a record dated to 639, and by 645 it appears to be fully operational.
There is another tale of its founding—in the Daianji Engi, the history of Daianji, a successor temple to Kudara Ohodera, there is mention of a Kumagori Dojo, and many modern histories claim that this was the actual first temple, but there isn’t much evidence. Donald McCallum, in his treatment of Kudara Ohodera’s history in his book, “The Four Great Temples”, suggests that the Kumagori Dojo story is likely a later legendary founding that got recorded, as there is scant evidence for it, and no mention of it in other records. On the actual founding of Kudara Ohodera, however, there does appear to be general agreement with the Nihon Shoki, despite some minor differences in the dates.
The call to build Kudara Ohodera comes alongside Tamura’s also building Kudara Palace. Kudara Ohodera was also built on a grand scale, and it is said to have had a nine-storey pagoda—almost double the size of a five-storey pagoda, which already towered over other buildings of the time.
Despite all of this, for a long time it was unclear where Kudara Ohodera was actually situated. There were several sites proposed, but most recently archaeological research on Kibi Pond seems to have placed the temple there. At excavations on the southern side of the pond were found remnants of the foundations of two buildings, arranged in an east-west format. The western foundation would appear to be for a pagoda—but one much larger than any of the five storey pagodas we’ve seen elsewhere. And to the east was the foundation for what appears to be the kondo. This golden image hall, however, is likewise much larger than any other hall of this time. This arrangement would fit very well with a Houryuuji-like temple layout. There were also various other traces that were consistent with the early mid-7th century, which would coincide with the 639-645 dates for Kudara Ohodera’s construction.
Subsequent excavations appear to have found quarters for the priests, as well as at least part of a gallery wall and one gate, situated due south of the kondo. There may have been another gate south of the pagoda. The koudou, the lecture hall, may have been in the area that was later excavated to create the pond, and therefore we may never have any hard evidence of its location, despite numerous attempts to dig trenches to find more of the temple buildings. This probably also means that, similar to Shitennouji, the lecture hall was incorporated into the enclosing gallery wall rather than being outside, because if it was outside, then it likely would have been farther north and we would probably have seen some trace. As it is, the lack of any trace suggests that it was inside or part of the enclosure with the pagoda and kondou.
The large size of this archeological site concurs with what we know about Kudara Ohodera, both in its description and in the fact that it is referred to as “Ohodera”, or “Great Temple”—no other temple has really been given that name directly, though there are a few references to “Ohodera” that are ambiguous and might refer either to this temple or Asukadera.. Still, if this temple, sometimes also called Kibi Pond Temple due to its location, is not Kudara Ohodera then that just brings up more questions. How could there have been such a monumental Buddhist temple this close to Asuka and within the bounds of the later Fujiwara-kyo and yet nobody thinks to mention it? It doesn’t appear to have been started and abandoned, as there were quite a few structures built. So if this isn’t Kudara Temple then someone has some ‘splaining to do.
Indeed, McCallum notes that while there are some objections, the preponderance of evidence seems to lean greatly in favor of the Kibi Pond site for Kudara Ohodera. We still have yet to find the Kudara palace, however, so who knows. There are also questions about the construction as various architectural features are missing in ways that are not consistent with other sites. Some oddities, such as a seeming lack of rooftiles given the apparent size of the building, actually may be a point in favor of this being Kudara Ohodera, since we know that the temple was moved in 673 when Ohoama requested that they build the Takechi Ohodera, which appears to have been Kudara’s successor temple. If they had reused the material from Kudara Ohodera to build, at least in part, Takechi Ohodera, that could explain why rooftiles and other such things are not present in the numbers expected at the Kibi Pond site.
Takechi Ohodera is another bit of a mystery. I can’t help but note that Takechi is the name given Ohoama’s son who was with him on the front lines of the Jinshin no Ran. We also see a “Takechi no Agata-nushi”, who is noted as the governor of the district of Takechi. In all cases here it is spelled “Taka-ichi”, or “high market”, and it is not an uncommon name—we even find a Miwa no Kimi no Takechimaro.
In the record of the Jinshin no Ran it is noted that the governor of Takechi was possessed by the kami of Takechi and of Musa. These were named as Kotoshironushi and Ikuikazuchi. They claimed that they had been the kami that escorted Ohoama to Fuwa and saw him safely there. As such, donations were made to their shrines. Musa is an area in modern Takaichi district, which includes the area of Asuka, and is part of Kashihara city. The Takaichi Agata Jinja—or the Takechi District Shrine—sits in the Shijo area of Kashihara city, north of Mt. Unebi.
There are several proposed locations for Takechi Ohodera, but despite excavations, no clear temple features have been found. As such, there isn’t anything to clearly point to one or the other.
What we do know is that Takechi Ohodera underwent another transformation. According to the Daianji Engi, the Takechi Ohodera was renamed to Daikandaiji in 677. There is no specific mention of this in the Nihon Shoki, other than a note that Takechi Ohodera was also known as Daikandaiji and a reference, in 679, of “fixing the names”. Personally, I can’t help but wonder if this is a case of a nickname becoming the name-in-fact. As I mentioned earlier in the episode, Daikandaijij, which can also be read as “Oho-tsukasa no Oho-tera” can be translated into something like Great Government Official Great Temple or Great Temple of the Royal Court.
We do know the location of this temple in later years, but this is probably not exactly where Takechi Ohodera was originally built. For one thing, it is suspicious that the temple lines up exactly with the later grid for Fujiwara-kyo, the later capital city that was built north of Asuka. We also are told by the Daianji Engi that a nine storey pagoda and kondou were built between 697 and 707 CE. There are also notes about activities at the temple mentioned in the Shoku Nihongi for the same period. And yet there were also activities being held during that time which would not seem feasible if they were renovating in place. So likely the new construction was at a new site—possibly near the old site. And at this later site, the rooftiles were from a later period, closer to the period of the later construction and not really matching with earlier construction dates.
So what did this temple of many names – Kudara Ohodera, then Takechi Ohodera, then Daikandaiji – actually look like? We probably have a layout for the original temple and the later temple. If Kibi Pond Temple is the original Kudara Ohodera, the original temple had the kondou and the pagoda on the same east-west axis, and likely had the koudou north of that – very Horyuji-like. But based on the layout at the later temple site, we have something quite different. From the central gate, there is a path straight towards the Kondou, with the Koudou directly north of that, and the nine-storey pagoda in an odd, off-set position, southeast of the kondou. This disrupts the symmetry even more than the Kudara Ohodera layout. There is some speculation that this asymmetry was temporary and that they planned to fill the other space but just never got around to it, but there is no indication that they had prepared for anything, either. Also odd is the fact that the koudou, the lecture hall, was the same size as the image hall, the kondou, and that was roughly the same size as the enormous hall at Toudaiji, which is really saying something. This really was a tremendous building, fitting for the main temple of the royal government.
The third of the four great temples is Kawaradera, and this one is challenging to plot out chronologically as there isn’t a lot of documentation. There is no exact date for the building of Kawaradera. There is a mention of it in 653, but the same entry in the Nihon Shoki also states that there are sources that claim it should be Yamadadera, instead. Based on other evidence, this actually seems more likely.
Yamadadera is thought to have been the work of Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, and it is where he eventually fled when accused of treason. It was founded in 641, according to the Joguki, the record of Prince Shotoku, but construction didn’t actually start until2 years later, and monks only began to occupy it in 648. The following year, however, construction halted as that is when Ishikawa no Maro fled there and committed suicide. Construction was resumed in 663, but still took time. Still, even in the middle of this very long DIY project, it makes sense that there might be some activities in 653, even if construction was paused.   Later the temple would be completed, and seems to have had powerful backing. Uno no Sarara, Ohoama’s queen, was a granddaughter of Ishikawa no Maro, and so likely had a connection to the temple, but it never attained the status of a national temple the way the others had. As far as its layout—it was similar to Shitennouji, with the pagoda, kondo, and koudou all in a line on the north-south axis.
Kawaradera was another matter. Though we aren’t sure when it was built, exactly. If we discount the 653 date as applying to Yamadadera instead, then the first date we really see anything at Kawara is Kawara Palace, built for Takara Hime—aka Saimei Tennou—who took up residence there when the Itabuki Palace burned. Later it would be used for her mogari—her temporary interment. The next mention of a temple at Kawara isn’t until this reign, in 673, when Ohoama had the Buddhist canon, the Issaiko, copied, as I noted at the top of the episode. So it must have been established and built some time before 673.
Although we don’t know when it was founded, we very clearly know where it was, as the foundations stones are still present, and quite clear—and unlike other Asuka era temples, it would stay in Asuka, rather than being removed up to the new capital at Heijo-kyo.
Given everything else and its apparent importance, the lack of information on when Kawaradera was established is quite odd. McCallum suggests that this could have been deliberate as a way to help delegitimize the temple in the 8th century, but also admits that it may have just been due to the general problems with early record keeping back in the day and there may not have been a good record of why and when the temple was founded. The rooftiles are similar to those used during the time that the court was at Ohotsu. I would also note that there is a connection between the foundation stones and a quarry up near Ohotsu at what is, today, Ishiyamadera. That still doesn’t tell us when Kawaradera was founded, as that could have been any time, and doesn’t necessarily mean that it was during the time the court was in Ohotsu.
Regardless of what textual evidence does or does not exist, the archaeological evidence is pretty staggering. Even today you can go and see some of the exposed foundation stones. This was a massive temple. There was a south gate and then a middle gate just north of that. The main enclosure was divided into two courtyards. In the first, just beyond the middle gate, at the north end was the middle kondo, while in the courtyard itself, facing each other on an east-west axis, was a western kondou and the temple pagoda. Past the middle kondou was a larger courtyard, with the koudou, or lecture hall, in the north, with a bell tower or sutra hall in the south west and southeast corners. The walls of the enclosure were made up of a covered gallery, and around the outside of the northern courtyard, containing the koudou, were smaller chambers believed to be the monks quarters, something we don’t necessarily see at all of the other sites.
Despite being an important temple, and one of the Four Great Temples during the Asuka periods, when the capital eventually moved to Heijo-kyo, in modern Nara, Kawaradera had the distinction of being the only one of the four that was not moved as well. All three of the other Great Temples had new compounds built in Heijo-kyo, and the temples were thus “transferred” to the new capital. Presumably that means that most of the monks and administration moved there, and those new temples took up the roles, duties, and responsibilities of the old temples. The temple complexes in Asuka were not necessarily destroyed or deconstructed, but instead were apparently left to their own devices, becoming reduced in status. Many of them fell into disrepair, and when disasters, such as fire, struck they were not rebuilt to the same extent as before, if at all.

Kawaradera, however, appears to have not been transferred. It would eventually be replaced as one of the Four Great Temples by the temple of Koufukuji, which was specifically a temple for the Fujiwara family, who were having a bit of a moment in the Nara period. Some have speculated that Kawaradera was specifically left behind in Asuka for that reason—so that the Fujiwara family temple could sneak into the ranks of national temples. Or it may have been that Kawaradera had a particular connection to Takara Hime and the site of her interment. If it was a memorial temple to her, then perhaps it didn’t seem appropriate to remove it from its physical location. McCallum also suggests that it was so powerful in its position in Asuka that it preferred to stay and keep its stipend-fiefs, perhaps believing that even the move to Heijo-kyo would be just another short fad, as had been Ohotsu and Fujiwara-kyo. Of course, if so, they were sorely mistaken.
And so Kawaradera would eventually fade from the picture, but during the time of Ohoama’s reign, and into that of his immediate successors, it seems that it certainly held some sway.
The fourth of the Four Great Temples was the temple of Yakushiji—the temple of the Medicine Buddha. This is the latest temple of the bunch. Its construction was ordered in the year 680 in response to Ohoama’s queen, Uno no Sarara, falling ill. And so he vowed to build a temple for her—specifically a temple to Yakushi Nyorai, the Medicine Buddha, whom we discussed last episode. That said, there is considerable time between the order to construct a temple and getting enough of it built to actually be functional. I haven’t really touched on this, except when I briefly discussed Yamadadera and how long that took to build, but all of these temples were massive works, much more complicated than the traditional palace buildings. For the most part, palace architecture could be built relatively quickly with the tools and labor available. This was a good thing, seeing as how, for many years, the sovereign had moved again and again, either because of the previous sovereign’s death in the palace or just because they chose a new location for a palace. As such, one couldn’t spend years building a new palace. So palace buildings were simply made with wooden posts, sunk into the ground, with thatched roofs. In a few examples we see attempts to use wooden boards or tiles, but they weren’t complicated.
A temple, on the other hand, was something different. Temples were largely wood, but they were massive in size and their roofs were covered in heavy ceramic tiles. All of that weight had to be properly distributed on a strong base—simple posts were not likely to work. Instead they were built on raised stone foundations. That’s great for us looking at them, today, but at the time it would have been an inordinate amount of labor. Hence why a temple like Yamadadera took so long to build.
So Yakushiji may have been founded in 680, but was likely not finished until much later, which is why we don’t really see it in the records for Ohoama’s reign and why the order for national temples probably only states that there were just two or three. However, it would become one of the four great temples, and is also notable because, in its transfer to Heijokyo, it largely retained its shape and layout, meaning that you can go to it, today, and still get some sense of what it may have been like back in the Asuka period. Granted, there are certainly differences, but there are enough similarities that it is likely worth a visit. Many of the other temples were significantly modified when they were rebuilt in the new capital in Nara.
The layout for Yakushiji is a basic rectangular layout. North of the central gate there is not one, but two pagodas, on an east-west axis from each other, flanking the path to the kondo, roughly in the center. Finally the koudou at the north end, built into the roofed gallery. The modern Yakushiji, a UNESCO world heritage site, maintains one of the pagodas from 730. Other buildings have been lost and rebuilt over the years. Today, the covered gallery only goes around half of the compound. This temple would be important, but mostly in the period following the current reign.
This period of the four Great Temples perhaps gives us some insight into the relationship between Buddhism and the State. Early on, Buddhism was the province largely of the Soga family, and Soga no Umako was apparently the most powerful figure of his day. He founded Asukadera, and early temples weree founded by Soga or their associates, including Prince Umayado. McCallum points out that the National Temples, however, were, with one exception, founded by sovereigns. Kudara Ohodera was the first, Kawaradera was likely founded for Takara Hime, and Yakushiji was founded for Queen Uno. The only one of the four that wasn’t expressly founded on a sovereign’s order was that of Asukadera, the temple by Soga no Umako. This may explain why it was both included and excluded as a national temple in the Chronicles. After all, there is no doubting its importance, but the narrative of a single, strong, royal house is somewhat impeded by the idea that one of those temples was founded by what was, for all of his power and authority, a private individual. Ultimately they didn’t include it in the edict and yet still acknowledged it as one of the Great Temples.
McCallum also points out that these four may not have been fixed quite so early on. For example, on the matter of Houryuuji—there is a bronze plaque that mentions an “Ikaruga no Ohodera”, suggesting that the Ikaruga Temple—that is to say Houryuuji, founded on the estates of Prince Umayado—was at one time granted that title. Of course, there are questions as to the exact date of the inscription, and whether or not they meant “Ohodera” in the later sense of a national temple or simply in the sense that it was large; and the term may have meant something else, earlier on.
The roster of official temples, the Tsukasa no Tera or Kanji, would grow over time, but that is something for a later period. It is worth noting, though, that the Chronicles at this point seem to distinguish between three types or levels of temples at this time, based on other edicts that we see. There is also the matter of temple names.
The first edict is from the 5th day of the 4th lunar month of 679, six years into Ohoama’s reign. The declaration states that the court would consider the history of any temple with sustenance fiefs and add or remove them as appropriate. This suggests that there were temples with sustenance fiefs—that is, that had stipends based on lands whose official output went to their upkeep—and temples without such fiefs. The latter were likely more local temples, likely funded by local elites, possibly out of actual devotion, or an attempt to gain the power that Buddhism presumably brought, or possibly just in emulation of the central court, much as the peripheral elites had also constructed the keyhole shaped kofun. Along with the adjustments of stipends, we are also told that the administration quote-unquote “fixed” the names of the temples.
This again goes to the government’s control of the temples and Buddhism. McCallum suggests that what is meant here is that they moved away from locative names to Buddhist names for the temple; up to this point, temple names appear to be about the location of the temple. So we have Asuka dera, or Asuka Temple, built in Asuka. Kudara Ohodera is Kudara Great Temple because it was by the Kudara river and the Kudara palace. When it was moved to Takechi, they changed the name to Takechi temple. Kawaradera was at Kawara, while the temple we know as Houryuuji was known at the time as Ikaruga Temple—or possibly Ikaruga Great Temple. But later these temples would be known by their Buddhist names, so Asukadera is Houkouji. Kudara Ohodera becomes Daikandaiji—and in fact, it is after this point that we see Daikandaiji in the narrative. Ikaruga dera—though not one of the yondaiji, or four Great Temples—becomes Horyuuji. I’m not quite so sure about Kawaradera, but Yakushiji, which is founded after this decree, comes to us with a Buddhist name rather than just the name of a location.
This change in name likely simplified, somewhat, the concept of moving, or transferring the temples. Rather than establishing a brand new temple with new administration and everything, they could build a new temple, but grant it the name and rights of the old temple. The old temple grounds could still be used and occupied—it was still a temple, but it was no longer the temple, at least for official purposes. It would be strange, however, to move the Asuka Temple up to the area of modern Nara city and still call it the Asuka Temple.
The year after reassessing the stipends and fixing the names of the temples we get the edict about the 2 or 3 national temples. And we’ve mostly discussed that, but here I would just point out that it does add a third distinction to the types of temples. So we have temples with no stipends, temples with stipends—but they would only last for 30 years total after which they were expected to find new sources of funding—and the national temples, which would presumably receive funding through the government in perpetuity—or until the court changed its mind.
So why do we care about any of this? Obviously Buddhism has had a huge impact on Japanese culture. However, this isn’t just about the religion as an idea, but about the institutions. These temples—especially these great temples—contained a fair amount of wealth.   It wasn’t just the golden images, or the elaborate amount of work and materials that went into the creation of the buildings. There was also the sustenance-fiefs that were paying for the upkeep. These temples were also being managed by formal government administrators. They also performed rituals that the court relied on. Association with these temples was no doubt important. Later we see princes and other members of high status families taking high ranking positions, and the temples ended up cultivating their own power. Over time, the power of various Buddhist institutions would grow, often challenging or even rivaling the power of the court itself.
There are a few other items from this reign that we see related to these temples and Buddhism, more generally. In 677 we see a Buddhist festival at Asukadera, where the entire canon was apparently reda out. The sovereign himself showed up and did obeisance to the Three Precious Things—an interesting bit of religious piety and humility.   At the same time, he had all of the Princes and Ministers find one person each to renounce the world and become a monk or nun—both men and women were chosen, without apparent distinction. We are also assured that they all did so of their own volition, and weren’t forced.
In 679, we see a regulation on the clothing of priests and nuns, as well as the men and horses who accompanied them when they traveled. If priests are going around with a full on noble retinue, well, that probably says something about the status of priests—at least the abbots and heads of these institutions.
680 – A fire breaks out at the nunnery at Tachibana temple. Tachibanadera is situated south of Kawaradera, and similar to that temple, it seems to have previously been the site of a royal palace and also isn’t recorded as being founded in the Nihon Shoki—it appears fully formed in this record. Tachibanadera’s own records seem to suggest that it was founded in 606, and claims a founding by Shotoku Taishi. It is also said to be the site of the palace where Shotoku Taishi was born to his mother, Princess Anahobe no Hashibito, consort of Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yomei Tennou. Shotoku Taishi is also the subject of the primary image of Tachibana temple, today.
Although Tachibanadera wasn’t one of the Four Great Temples, it was likely connected to one—Kawaradera. Not only was it built on the same north-south axis as Kawaradera, but some of the tiles are similar to Kawaradera’s founding tiles. The layout was similar to Yamada-dera or Shitennouji, with the pagoda, kondou, and kooudou, all in a single north-south orientation. It is possible that Kawaradera was a monastery for male monks while Tachibanadera may have been the complementary nunnery for female initiates.
680 had a lot going on. In the 10th lunar month, the sovereign handed out alms to monks and nuns—silk and cloth. A month later, Ohoama vowed Yakushiji in hopes that it would help his wife, Queen Uno, who was unwell. He also granted a general amnesty, likely to just add further merit. Apparently it was successful, as she would go on to live for quite some time after that, even helping to take the reins of government when Ohoama himself fell ill.
In 682, Princess Hidaka fell ill. 190 people, both men and women, were pardoned for capital or lesser crimes, in an attempt to make merit, and the following day we are told that over 140 people renounced the world at Daikandaiji—likely on the Princess’s behalf.
The year after that, 683, we see the sovereign making appointments to the official buddhist offices of Soujou, Soudzu, and Risshi—Doctors of the Law. This was probably a somewhat regular occurrence, though this is the first time we see the Risshi, it seems. The mention here is apparently due to the admonition given that “Those who control the monks and nuns should act according to the law.” Definitely seems to be something there—perhaps a reason as to why the Soujou and Soudzu were being appointed. But the Nihon Shoki doesn’t give us a lot more to go on other than speculation.
Later that same year, in the 7th lunar month, we see priests and nuns gathered at the palace for the first ever ango, or retreat. An ango is where priests and nuns of different temples are brought together. The term refers to a practice said to come from the time of Shakyamuni, before there were temples. Shakyamuni’s acolytes, who spent much of the year wandering, would return to one place during the rainy season. At that time they would listen and discuss Shakyamuni’s teachings. In some sects, this practice of coming together would be particularly important, and it was a mark of honor for how many retreats a monk might have attended over the years.
In 685, the court promoted Buddhism with an edict requiring every household to maintain a Buddhist altar, with a statue of the Buddha and a copy of a sutra inside. It is unclear to me if this was just for merit-making or what, but it must have been somewhat lucrative for the various temples, who would have likely been the source for said sutras, and, at least peripherally, the statues as well.
Later that year, in the 4th lunar month, there was another ango at the palace. The month after that, Ohoama went to Asukadera and presented precious objects and worshipped. In the 8th lunar month Ohoama went to Joudouji – Aston claims this is Asukadera, also known as Houkouji—and the next day he visited Kawaradera and provided rice to the monks there. One month after that, Ohoama was feeling ill, so the court ordered Daikandaiji, Kawaradera, and Asukadera—the three Great Temples that were fully operational at that point—to chant sutras for his sake. In return they were granted various quantities of rice.
Ohoama recovered for a time, but it was perhaps a precursor of what was to come. A month later a monk from Baekje and a lay monk were sent out to seek a medicinal herb known as white okera. Today, a similar compound is known in Chinese traditional medicine as Bái Zhú. A few months later Ohoama went to the medicinal herb garden of Shiranishiki, and a few weeks later he was presented with Bai Zhu, the boiled white okera.   That same day, ritualists performed the Chikonsai, the “Calling of the Spirit”. All of this seems to indicate the early onset of symptoms that may have been temporarily abated, but likely were part of the disease or illness that would eventually take his life.
But we covered most of that last episode, and we are already dragging on longer than I expected, so I think I’m going to end it here. Coming up in the narrative, since I started to mention it, I’ll probably take a look next at the founding of the new capital of Fujiwara kyo, and what that would mean, along with other initiatives that would outlive Ohoama.
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.
Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.
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
McCallum, Donald F. (2009). The Four Great Temples: Buddhist Archaeology, Architecture, and Icons of Seventh-Century Japan. ISBN 978-0-8248-3114-1
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4.

Asukadera, aka Hōkōji (飛鳥寺・法興寺)

Kudara Ōdera, aka Takechi Ōdera, aka Daikandaiji (百済大寺・高市大寺・大官大寺)

Kawaradera (川原寺)

Yakushiji (薬師寺)

Rough Transcript

References