Tsukushi Dazai (筑紫太宰)

The Yamato government’s outpost on Tsukushi, aka Kyūshū. Also known as the Ōmikotomochi. The head of the Dazai was perhaps the most powerful individual outside of the Yamato court. They were largely autonomous, and had authority over a large area, as well as all of the trade and diplomatic missions to and from the archipelago. They also had a tremendous military presence, especially since the fall of Baekje. They were responsible for ensuring that all of the castles built in the end of the 7th century were likewise manned.

Kibi Dazai (吉備太宰)

The Kibi Dazai is only mentioned once in the Nihon Shoki, but from what we can tell it was set up as part of the Taika reforms and oversaw Kibi and Harima. It may have had some prestige at the time, but it never had the diplomatic or military responsibilities that the Tsukushi Dazai had, and eventually it would be dismantled, as Kibi was divided into the provinces of Bizen, Bitchū, and Bingo.

Settsu-shiki no Daibu (攝津職大夫)

The Settsu-shiki was the office in Settsu that operated in lieu of the kokushi, or government office. The Daibu position had more expansive powers than your typical governor, and also oversaw Naniwa. This was technically one of the Home Provinces, but still demonstrates the complexity of administration beyond the court itself.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is episode 144: On the Edge
The ships sat low in the water, bobbing gently against the docks at Naniwa. The captain eyed them warily as the officials went over the manifest. The Seto Inland Sea was generally calm and smooth sailing—at least compared to the open ocean, anywhere else -- and yet, as he looked, he could only think of how sluggish these ships would be. They were laden down with cargo—silk, cloth, thread, and of course provisions for the men accompanying them. But more than that, they were laden down with iron. Tons of iron ingots, destined for the far reaches of the archipelago. First to Suwa, but then on to the Dazai on Tsukushi, no doubt to be forged into weapons for the defense of Yamato.
But that wasn’t the captain’s concern. He just needed to make sure that the ships weren’t weighed down too much: as long as they remained buoyant, they would make the journey, even if they had to travel at a snail’s pace to do it. But if the ships sat too low in the water, then all it would take was some uncooperative waves and the ships, crew, and cargo, would be sent straight down to the palace of the dragon king, beneath the waves.
Fortunately, with enough ships, it looked like that wouldn’t be too much of a problem, as long as the goods were properly spaced out. Now to just hope that the weather cooperated. Even in the relatively safe waters of the Seto Inland Sea, you never know what could happen…

So last episode we talked about two large projects that Ohoama is said to have started. First was the history project, which likely led to the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki. Second was the start of a brand new capital. This episode, we are going from the macro, down to the micro—smaller events that just weren’t covered in previous episodes. For the most part the next few episodes are going to be a grab bag of various items, but I’m going to try and put some semblance of cohesion to this. Next episode we’ll be looking at some of the laws that they made, including the law code and examples of the kinds of punishment—and forgiveness—that the court could bestow. This week, however, we are going to cover a bunch of stories focused on the areas outside of the Home Provinces. We’ll look at the Dazai in Tsukushi—and elsewhere. We’ll talk about how the provinces were governed, and what concerned them. Granted, a lot of what concerned them, at least from the Chroniclers point of view, were taxes and economic production. So we see recorded concern with taxes and with what was there—the land and the people that worked it. Also with natural events, like droughts and tsunami, which would affect that same economic production.

We’re starting off with the Dazai, and the person in charge there. The Viceroy, as it is often called in English.
The Dazai appears to have started off with something of a military purpose. It was a gathering place before ships would sail off to the Korean peninsula, raiding up the rivers, or trading with their allies. As the archipelago began to be more embroiled in the wars of the peninsula, it was that much more important. And when Yamato’s ally, Baekje, fell, and it looked like Silla and the Great Tang might turn their attention to the islands that had been a thorn in their side for so long, it became a bulwark against potential invasion.
However, it also had another function. It was the jumping off place for warships, but also for embassies and trading missions. It was also the primary destination for most ships approaching Yamato. They would take a route through Tsushima island, and then Iki island, and continue to the main coast of Tsukushi—Kyushu, and up and around to the sheltered waters of Hakata bay. At some point they would even move that initial contact farther out, to Tsushima island itself. Ships would dock on one side of the island, and transport their goods to a Yamato ship on the other side, with a pilot who knew the waters. The local island officials could then send word ahead to the Dazai that they were coming. No surprises, and nobody jumping the gun thinking that a fleet of warships was on their way.
The Dazai played a key role in defense, trade, and diplomacy. When the embassies arrived, they were entertained at the Dazai while word was sent to the court. If the court deemed it appropriate, then they might have the ambassadors take the journey the rest of the way. Otherwise, the court at the Dazai would stand in for the sovereign, and receive the messages, and various diplomatic gifts that were sent along.
This was a powerful and also highly lucrative position, and it is reflected in the people who were granted the title. This was the Dazai no Sochi, or Oho-mikoto-mochi no kami.
We see the post held by Soga no Himuka in 649, during the Taika era. Then we see Abe no Hirafu in the reign of Takara Hime, 655-661. Hirafu would go on to become the Minister of the Left. Then we see Prince Kurikuma.
We talked about Prince Kurikuma before—he was Ohoama’s ally in Tsukushi who refused the Afumi court’s request for troops during the Jinshin no Ran. He is one of the few figures that we have more than just a bit of information on. For one thing, we have two different appointments to his position as viceroy in Tsukushi—there is one in 668, and another in 671, with Soga no Akae being given the post in between. There are some questions about whether or not those were different people—the first one might have been someone named “Kurisaki” or “Kurimae”, but it is generally assumed that was just misspelled, and it may be that there were just some questions as to when he was appointed. We also know that he was a friend to Ohoama. The Afumi court said as much, and in the Jinshin no Ran, when he and his sons stood up to the Afumi court’s request for troops, he came down heavily on Ohoama’s side. It is no wonder that he would have still been in such a powerful position.
His sons, by the way, are named as Prince Mino and Prince Takebe; we’ve seen what appears to be different Princes named Mino, but it is possible that this is the Prince Mino mentioned elsewhere in this part of the record.
Sources suggest that Kurikuma was a descendant of the sovereign Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou, and that he was an ancestor of the Tachibana clan. There were stories about him in Tsukushi, beyond those in the Nihon Shoki, and while he isn’t always named explicitly, one can infer that he hosted a number of embassies and ambassadors in his time. In fact, in his position as head of the Dazaifu in Tsukushi, he was in what was perhaps the most lucrative post outside of Yamato. In addition to being in charge of trade, diplomacy, and military readiness, the Dazaifu oversaw all of Tsukushi—the island of Kyushu, and was like a miniature representation of the central government.
I suspect it is the military responsibilities that saw Kurikuma being appointed to the post of Director of Military Affairs—Tsuwamo-no-Tsukasa-no-Kami, or Heiseikan-cho. That was in the 3rd lunar month of 675, just a few years into Ohoama’s reign.
This would later be known as the Hyoubu-shou, or Ministry of War. The appointment would not last long, however. A year later, Kurikuma would pass away from disease.
Prince Kurikuma is one of those enigmatic and yet somewhat exciting individuals that exists beyond just the Nihon Shoki.   The Shoku Nihongi and later sources give us additional details, which may or may not be accurate. Even moreso, there are stories in modern Nagasaki prefecture about Prince Kurikuma helping to regulate the animals that lived in the waters surrounding Kyushu. According to the Shoku Nihongi record, he was reportedly granted the 2nd princely rank upon his death—which, if true, would seem to say a lot about how he was viewed at the time.
Moving into the year 676, we see an edict that restricted governorships to individuals of the rank of Daisen and below. The exceptions to this were the Home Provinces, Michinoku, and Nagato, and let’s explore why these areas were excepted.
Home Provinces make sense, as that is where the capital is and this more prestigious area was therefore deserving of a higher ranked noble. Michinoku was the opposite geographically: it was the general wilderness of Tohoku, and the land of the Emishi. It was also the farthest east of the capital, so I suspect they wanted someone of rank to handle that.
The governor of Nagato, however, is interesting. Nagato is part of Honshu, the main island, just north of Kyushu, across the Shimonoseki strait. Similar to Michinoku, Nagato was one of the most remote provinces on Honshu. It was also an important province for potential defense and trade, and often coordinated with the Dazaifu in Tsukushi, to the south. As such, it was also considered a more prominent posting than other governorships.
It is somewhat interesting that the Dazaifu is not mentioned, but I suspect this is because the head of the Dazaifu was not, in fact, a governor, but more akin to a viceroy. After all, they had to be entrusted with a certain amount of authority to be able to conduct military, trade, and diplomatic business without constantly sending back to the Yamato court for instruction. We’ve already seen that there were Princes and other men of wealth and status who had been given that posting.
Interestingly, in this reign we see at least one other viceroy—one other Dazai, or Ohomikotomochi—and that is in Kibi, of all places. From what we can tell Kibi was one of the main rivals for power and authority in the prior centuries. It has come up again and again in the stories. Unfortunately, most of the stories only hint at what we think actually happened. Today, when we talk about the Dazaifu we are almost exclusively talking about the one in Kyushu. Besides being far flung from the center of power, it had huge responsibilities.
Comparatively, though perhaps not as directly involved with trade, the rulers of Kibi were important figures, as demonstrated by the amount of manpower they were able to leverage for building their large, kingly tombs. We talked somewhat about that back in Episode 48, looking at Tsukuriyama Kofun, one of the largest in the archipelago. Furthermore, Kibi was well-placed on the Seto inland sea to be able to control the passage of ships. The Kibi Dazai appears to have been established around the time of the Taika reforms, though it is only mentioned once in the Nihon Shoki, and I don’t see any other examples of it. There is also evidence that it was given authority over not just Kibi, but also the neighboring province of Harima. Eventually, however, Kibi would be broken up into the three provinces of Bizen, Bitchu, and Bingo, and it would no longer need to be aggregated under a single administration. Rather, each province would get its own governor, overseeing a much smaller part of the whole. From this I can only assume that there may have been other, similar situations, prior to the various provinces being broken up like that.
A couple months later, in the 5th month of 676, we are once again discussing governors. First was a decree about governors who weren’t paying their commuted taxes on time. Aston goes on to note that non-rice taxes were due in the middle of the 8th month—at least for the home provinces. Near provinces—a little farther away—taxes had to be received by the end of the 10th month, and for those a bit farther away—in the middle distance—they had to be there by the 11th month. Finally, the taxes from the farthest provinces were due by the end of the 12th month. This would have given officials time to collect the taxes and to transport them all the way to the capital. So when the chronicles talk about governors not paying on time, not keeping to this schedule may have been what the court was getting at—or at least some kind of similar schedule with deadlines, since it might have been modified over time.

Another record, that same month—actually a few days later—concerns specifically the governor of Shimotsukenu—or Shimotsuke, on the other side of Honshu. He sent in a report that that province had been hit pretty hard that year with a poor harvest. In fact, it was so bad that many peasants were seeking permission to sell their children. The court ultimately denied the request, but this does speak to a rather disturbing—yet not exactly uncommon—cultural practice. I don’t think we need to get into the different nuances here, beyond a look at the fact that this was likely not a new practice, but it does seem that the appeal to the government for permission to sell one’s children was something new. Perhaps this came with all of the records and registrations that the government had undertaken to know who was in what household. Regardless, one can hardly imagine that most parents would willingly take this option unless they had no other choice, and I suspect that it is meant to show both the desperation of the people in Shimotsuke, as well as the harsh benevolence of the sovereign, who would not permit the children to be separated from their families.
Of course, we aren’t told how the court otherwise ameliorated the situation, since moral righteousness is tremendous, but doesn’t suddenly fix the problems with the harvest or cause food to appear out of nowhere. One hopes that the court at least sent some amount of rice or other provisions to help the people.
Although it was Shimotsuke in the 5th month, in the 6th month we see a more general report of a large drought. Messengers were sent throughout the land to get people to donate cloth, and make prayers to the kami, while Buddhist Priests called upon the power of the Three Precious Things. It was all to no avail—the usual rains didn’t come, so the wugu, the five grains didn’t grow, and peasants starved. The five grains per se are rice, soybeans, wheat, and two types of millet, but in this case the term is just a stand-in for all types of agricultural produce.
Possibly unrelated, but somewhat telling, two months later we see a record of the court granting sustenance-fiefs of all Royal princes and princesses down to the high ministers and female officials at the palace down to the rank of Shoukin. So only two months after the peasants of Yamato were apparently starving, the court is handing out stipend increases to the elite. So… yeah….
We do see a focus in the 8th month on an Oho-barai, or Great Purification. I’m going to talk about this more in a future episode, though, so just noting here that they seem to have been working to purify the land and that may have been part of ongoing spiritual attempts to request the support of the kami in what appear to be difficult times. There were also plenty of examples of attempts to make merit by demonstrating righteousness and reading various sutras.
Moving on to the events of 677, things seem to have been going better than the previous year, so maybe all that merit-making had an effect? Either way, we don’t see any mention of droughts or famines this year, and we make it to the ninth month, when we see a notice that any vagabonds who returned after being sent back to their hometown would be set to forced labor. Vagabond, in this case, is “furounin”, or “person who floats on the waves”. This appears to be the origin of the term “Rounin”, which would later refer to masterless samurai. At this point it seems to refer mostly to commoners who were expected to work the land—and when workers abandoned the land that had implications for the government’s tax base system. So the State was invested in ensuring that people didn’t just move somewhere else—at least without asking permission and being properly registered. This does seem different from an actual fugitive, such as someone who was banished who tries to leave their place of banishment.
The following month, the 10th month of 677, we see that Kawabe no Omi no Momoye was appointed head of the Minbukyo, the Minister of the Interior. In addition, Tajihi no Kimi no Maro was made a Daibu, or high official, of the province of Settsu.     The term “daibu” could just refer to high ministers of the court, but the “daibu” of a province appears to be similar to a governor, but with more expansive and comprehensive authority. Settsu is one of the five home provinces, and as such an important part of the geographical heart of Yamato.   So we have the local chieftains, the governors, the viceroys at the Dazai, and also, apparently, a “high official” in some regions, each with what appear to be overlapping but slightly different portfolios.
The next month we see that the Viceroy of Tsukushi—whoever had taken the place of Prince Yagaki—had his officials present a red crow to the court. The person who caught the crow was granted five steps in rank—not a small reward. Also, local officials had their own rank raised, and taxes were remitted to the peasants of that district for a year. Finally, a general amnesty was announced across Yamato.
We talked in Episode 141 how something like a red crow would have likely represented either the three-legged crow in the sun or the legendary Suzaku, the fiery bird of the south. Either way, it was clearly an auspicious discovery. It is interesting that we don’t see any names at all associated with this event. We do, however, see that people were no doubt incentivized to report such things up to the court. Whoever found such a curiosity would likely have been celebrated by all of those around given the court’s broad show of appreciation. No doubt the local officials were more than pleased given that they were also likely to receive some of the benefits that accrued if the court was well pleased.
As far as the type of events I’m focusing on this episode, there isn’t much recorded between the red crow of 677 and a few years later in 682. Picking up in the 3rd month of that year, we get a record of the Emishi of Michinoku being granted court rank, incorporating them further into the growing Yamato polity. As I talked about a little earlier, Michinoku on the other side of the archipelago, so this event really shows expansion of Yamato and solidification of its power over the rest of Honshu. It is easy to forget that much of the Tohoku region was not firmly under Yamato control at this time. They may have claimed it, but the people and culture there were still considered distinct and not a part of Yamato, proper. But they were making inroads.
In the following month, the 4th lunar month of the same year, 682, we are back on the west coast and see Tajihi no Mabito no Shima as the latest Viceroy of Tsukushi, sending as tribute a large bell. It is somewhat interesting that, compared to the past few viceroys, Shima is actually a member of a noble family and not a Prince. Of course, there was no requirement that the Dazaifu be overseen by a Prince—that certainly wasn’t the case for Soga no Akaye, but it is interesting given how Ohoama had been making appointments, so far. Even if they weren’t princely, it is clear that this was an important posting, which says a lot for Tajihi no Shima, even if we didn’t know anything more about him.
Fortunately, there are a few clues. For one thing, there are records that claim he was descended from one of the previous sovereigns, but he did not hold the title of “Prince”. That is reflected in his family’s kabane of “Mabito”, however, or “True person”, which seems to indicate at least a nominal descent from a previous ruler. Shima would continue to rise in the government, and would eventually serve as the Minister of the Right and then Minister of the Left, and at one point he would be the highest ranking noble in the government—though that was still a ways off. All of this speaks to the importance of the position of viceroy, and probably gives us a clue as to why the Chroniclers were so interested in someone sending a bell, large as it might be, to the government.
A day after the bell tribute arrived, Emishi of Koshi, including Ikokina and others, requested 70 households of prisoners of war to create a new district. While we’ve talked about the Emishi of Koshi, before, what is particularly interesting is the request for prisoners of war—captives. Were these Wajin, or Japanese, who had been captured by the Emishi and they were requesting permission to resettle them? Were they asking for 70 households of people being held captive by the Yamato government? It isn’t clear. It also isn’t clear if “Ikokina” is the name of an individual or of multiple individuals. Aston originally translated it as Itaka, Kina, and others, while Bentley’s more recent translation suggests it is one name. However, given that this is an Emishi name, being transliterated in Kanji through a Japanese translator, it is hard to know without further sources.
From the fourth month to the 7th month of 682, we see a small entry that presents were given to men from Tanegashima, Yakushima, and Amami no Shima. This simple entry is important mostly just because of its mention of continued contact with these islands south of Kyushu. This helps us maintain some idea of the extent of Yamato’s influence.
In the late summer of 683, we once again see a drought. It began in the 7th lunar month and lasted until the 8th. A priest named Douzou prayed for rain and eventually obtained it. Douzou is said to have been a monk from Kudara, or Baekje. Aston suggests that this means he was a priest of Kudaradera, but it isn’t really clear to me.
In the early 8th month, we also see that there was a general amnesty ordered throughout Yamato, which I suspect was connected with the disaster of the drought and an attempt to help build merit and otherwise strengthen the state in the face of natural disaster and potential unrest.
At the end of 683, we see a survey team being sent out. The sovereign sent Prince Ise along with Hata no Kimi no Yakuni, Ohoshi no Omi no Homuchi, and Nakatomi no Muraji no Ohoshima with clerks and artisans to tour the realm and determine the border of the various provinces, but they were unable to determine them all in a year.
This really must have been quite the task. Certainly, the provinces were the ancient lands which people had been living in for some time, but there was never really a need for political lines on a map to determine where the boundaries were. People generally knew if they were in one or the other, and unless there was a very contentious piece of property, mostly you didn’t worry about which exact land or province you were in. Now, however, the court was in the midst of trying to lock down all of the data about the land, including what was where and how much there was. After all, their entire tax base was built on arable land, so they had to know where it was and what to expect. There is no way that such a project was going to be completed in a single year.
I would also note that Aston has this particular record misplaced. He seemed to think it was on the 23rd day of the month, but it is then followed by the 17th. It seems that Aston just got his dates wrong, and can you blame him? There was a lot that he was dealing with.
We do see, almost a year later, in the 10th month of 684, Prince Ise and others are once again sent to determine the boundaries of the provinces. Second time’s the charm, maybe? Evidently not, because we then see another mention in the 10th month of 685, where the court gave them gifts of robes and trousers as they headed back out to the Eastern Countries one more time.
In the 11th month of 684 we are given a small report of a huge disaster. The governor of Tosa reported that a great tide had risen high, with an overflowing rush, and destroyed many of the ships used to convey tribute.
Tosa is on Shikoku, facing out to the Pacific Ocean. It is the first piece of dry land just past the continental shelf. As such, a quake just off shore could create conditions not dissimilar to the 2011 disaster in Fukushima, and send a tsunami wave flooding the coastline. It looks like that is what happened, which would have devastated the fleet. Since Shikoku was an island, they relied on those ships to get taxes and tribute conveyed up to Yamato. So this was Tosa letting the court know that the “sea ate my homework.”
I can’t help but wonder if this tsunami wasn’t related to an earthquake recorded for the month earlier, which we mentioned back in Episode 139. It was a huge earthquake that seems to have had a tremdous impact. Much of it was mentioned as being focused on the Toukaidou region, but that region still lies along a related fault line all the way down through Shikoku. It may be that it took a while for the two events to be reported, and there may not have been an understanding that the event in one place could have had an impact elsewhere. I don’t know if they had yet connected that earthquakes could cause tsunami or not. On the other hand, it could be that it was a separate, but related quake, or even an aftershock, which caused the tsunami.
Overall, the year 684 does not appear to have been the best. We are told that in the lower district of Katsuraki, there was reported a chicken with four legs. Then, in the district of Higami, in Tanba province, there was a calf born with twelve horns. These don’t sound like great omens, and given the tsunami, and the earthquake, and other such things, I can perhaps understand why the court focused on trying to do some merit-making towards the end of the year. For instance they pardoned all criminals except those guilty of capital crimes.
And we are also told that Iga, Ise, Mino, and Wohari were notified that in future years, if they were paying commuted taxes—that is taxes other than rice, in lieu of service—that force labour would be remitted, and vice versa.   That is, if it was a year where they would pay in corvee labour, the commuted taxes would be remitted instead. In other words, they didn’t need to do both in one year. Similarly , in the 7th lunar month of 685, we are told that the Provinces on the Tousandou, east of Mino, and the Toukaidou, east of Ise, were all exempted from sending in conscript laborers as part of their taxes.
We aren’t told exactly why any of this was done, but I suspect that it had something to do with either construction going on in those regions, or just needing to have people to work the fields. Labor could always be remitted just because of something good like a good omen, but in the aftermath of a devastating earthquake, I wonder if there wasn’t a lot of rebuilding that had to take place, and maybe the court just wanted to make sure those regions had the people they needed for those projects.
The Tousandou and the Toukaidou were just two of the 7 official circuits around the archipelago. In this case, the Toukaidou hugged the coastal areas, heading from Ise out to modern Tokyo. Meanwhile, the Tousandou would have cut through the mountains in the middle of that area of Honshu, passing north of Fuji and through modern Gunma.    The other circuits were the San’youdou, the San’indou, the Nankaidou, the Hokurikudou, and Tsukushi, which was considered its own “circuit”. The San’youdou and San’indou were the Yang and Yin roads, going through the western part of Honshu. The San’youdou was along the Seto Inland Sea, while the San’indou was along the Japan sea. The Nankaidou, or South Sea Road, was the Kii peninsula and Shikoku. The Hokurikudou went north on eastern Honshu, through the Koshi region. Finally, Tsukushi, which would also be known as the Saikaidou, or Western Sea Road, was its own circuit
In the 9th lunar month of 685 we see Commissioners or Royal Messengers appointed to six of the seven circuits, the Hokurikudou being the one left out.    The commissioners were to tour and inspect the provincial and district offices and make sure they were good. Each person took a facility manager and a secretary to assist them. Bentley notes that there is, in later legal codes, a role of “Inspector”, who was similarly expected to tour and inspect the various provinces – but these were assigned on an as needed basis, so it wasn’t a permanent position.
Along with the inspection of the government offices, there was one other edict that same day in the 9th month of 685: the court ordered that male and female singers, as well as pipers/flute-players should pass down their skills to their descendants and make them practice singing and the flute. Thus they effectively created hereditary musicians which, at the time, was how you made sure that you had the different professions and skillsets you needed to run the State.
Then, in the 11th month of 685, we see a bunch of iron sent to the General Magistrate of Suwa. How much is a bunch? 10,000 kin, which is thought to be equivalent to roughly 6.6 tons. That is a huge amount of iron, assuming the record is true. At the same time, the viceroy of Tsukushi requested 100 bolts of coarse silk, 132 pounds of thread, 300 bundles of cloth, 4000 feet of labor tax cloth, 6.6 tons of iron, and 2,000 sets of bamboo arrows.   And by all accounts, the court sent it all out. No idea why—but there we go. Presumably it was to make things—probably clothing and weapons.
We see something similar in the 12th month, when the ships carrying the newest border guards out to Tsukushi were battered by bad seas and, eventually, they were left adrift in the water. They were rescued, but lost all of their clothing, so rather than sending clothes, the court sent cloth. 450 bolts of cloth were sent, to be made into new sets of clothing for the soldiers.
Sending raw materials makes sense. After all, there were likely artisans all over the place who just needed them. Furthermore, that way you could customize the equipment to the people who would be using it, rather than shipping off finished goods.
And with that, I think we are going to call it. Next episode will be a similar overview, but we’ll take a look at some of the laws that were passed, as well as how they dealt with law and order in the archipelago.
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

Wittkamp, Robert F. (2026). Reading the Nihon Shoki: Chinese Encyclopedias, Source Criticism and Historical Writing in Old Japan. ISBN 9783695198436
Bentley, John R. (2025). Nihon Shoki: The Chronicles of Japan. ISBN 979-8-218634-67-4 pb
Bentley, J.R. (2020). The Birth of Japanese Historiography (1st ed.). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780367809591
McCallum, Donald F. (2009). The Four Great Temples: Buddhist Archaeology, Architecture, and Icons of Seventh-Century Japan. ISBN 978-0-8248-3114-1
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253.
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4.
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Tsukushi Dazai (筑紫太宰)

Kibi Dazai (吉備太宰)

Settsu-shiki no Daibu (攝津職大夫)

Rough Transcript

References