Early Life

Uno no Sarara is thought to have been born around 645. Her father was Royal Prince Naka no Ōe, later known as Tenji Tennō. Her mother was Ochi no Iratsume, the daughter of Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro. Naka no Ōe was betrothed to Ochi no Iratsume as part of a political marriage to tie the Kurayamada’s side of the family to the Royal Prince as he challenged the head of the Soga family: Soga no Emishi and Soga no Iruka. Uno no Sarara was born the same year that Iruka and then Emishi were both killed by Naka no Ōe and his supporters. It seems unlikely she would have been born much earlier, if the dating of the Nihon Shoki is correct, since the marriage alliance is noted in an entry for the first month of 644. Even if they consummated the marriage immediately, the earliest date we would have for the birth of Uno no Sarara is one year earlier—everything else just makes her even younger.

That means that Uno was still quite young when her grandfather, Ishikawa no Maro, was accused of plotting treason and killed himself rather than letting himself be taken captive by Naka no Ōe’s forces. We are told that Ishikawa no Maro’s daughter, Miyatsuko no Iratsume, died of grief when she heard about her father’s death. That “Miyatsuko no Iratsume” appears to be similar to another name we have for Ochi no Iratsume, suggesting that they are one and the same. So at a young age, Uno no Sarara had lost her mother and maternal grandfather.

Next, in 657, she is said to have been given in marriage to her uncle, Naka no Ōe’s brother, Royal Prince Ōama, along with at least one of her sisters. She was only 13 years old. In 661, Queen Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennō, died, leaving Uno’s father, Naka no Ōe the de facto head of government while her husband, Ōama, was the next in line—the Crown Prince. Then, in 662 she gave birth to a son, Royal Prince Kusakabe.

When Ōama retired from the position of Crown Prince, giving it to Naka no Ōe’s son, Ōtomo, and took Buddhist vows, retiring to Yoshino, Uno no Sarara went with him.

The Jinshin no Ran and Ōama’s reign

Uno no Sarara stayed close to her husband and supported him throughout the fighting with the Afumi court. She was 28 years old. She fled to the east with him, and it is said she mingled with the troops and that she helped with the planning of the war. When they were finally victorious, she continued to support her husband on the throne.

She is described as sitting on the dais with her husband during matters of state, and she was one of those who went to Yoshino to pledge to support each other—members of the royal family. When Ōama grew too ill to properly run things, he handed over the reins of government to Uno no Sarara and her son, Crown Prince Kusakabe. When he died in 686, Uno no Sarara would have been 42 years old.

Uno no Sarara quickly consolidated power. She eliminated Royal Prince Ōtsu, a rival to Crown Prince Kusakabe, and for several years they mourned Ōama. But then Prince Kusakabe died in 689, leaving behind a ten year old daughter and a seven year old son. So Uno no Sarara took the throne herself, and ruled for another eight years.

Kiyomihara Codes

The Kiyomihara Codes, named for the palace of Asuka-Kiyomihara. It was delivered in twenty-two volumes, and though it is not extant we can surmise certain aspects. For example, the definition of court bureaus and the definition of the Jingikan—a bureau of Kami Matters that is rather distinct to Yamato and which was separate from the Dajokan, or Grand Council of State. It was just the laws—not the punishments—but it was still a significant advancement of the Ritsuryō system.

Fujiwara-kyō

Also at this time we see the completion of the Fujiwara capital. This was designed as the first continental style capital—and the first continental style city—in the archipelago. It was built in a Confucian style, but with local imagery in the form of the sacred mountains of Mt. Unebi, Mt. Kagu, and Mt. Miminashi, all of which feature in stories from the “Age of the Gods”. In the center of the Fujiwara capital was the Fujiwara Palace—a new, grand palace built to be the seat of an imperial-style government.

Amaterasu and Ise Shrine

Another thing we see at this time is the rise in prominence of Amaterasu as the chief kami of the Heavenly Plain, Takama-no-hara. The story of Ise is told throughout the Chronicles, at various points, but there are plenty of indications that it was not preeminent, and may not have been the primary shrine of Yamato until this point. Even as recently as the reign of Naka no Ōe do we see that it is the god of Mt. Miwa, Ōmononushi, who is brought to the environs of Ōtsu to be worshipped. In the reigns of Ōama and Uno no Sarara, the ancient shrine of Miwa is rarely talked about, despite all of the attention lavished on shrines and kami worship more generally. There is even some thought that the establishment of the Jingikan itself may have had something to do with Ise. More of that in Part II….

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is episode 152: Queen Uno no Sarara, Part 1
It was rare that something would pull people from the fields at the height of the season, but it wasn’t every day that people of Iga had the opportunity to watch a true royal procession. They gathered on either side of the street as the parade passed through town. There were horses and carts, but also just numerous men carrying various bags and provisions. There were also military guards, decked out in their finest—just in case anyone got any ideas. There were also various nobles and government officials, riding with her. The outfits and color would have been striking, particular to those who had little business with the court. And at the height of it all was a covered palanquin. Nobody could see the royal presence inside through the screens, though later they would talk about getting a peek of her hair or her robes. It didn’t matter, the procession itself was enough of a spectacle for all to see.
Not everyone was pleased. A few of the more dour elders complained about how much of a disruption and a distraction it was. They would at least be somewhat mollified by the news that, for enduring the disruption, they would at least get a break on their taxes that year.
The procession was headed east, to the land of Ise. Apparently they were going to pay their respects at the shrine there. Did you know that it was dedicated to the ancestor of the royal family itself? The actual sun goddess herself, Amaterasu. Some of the elders shook their heads. They remembered when everyone had been focused on Mt. Miwa, to the west. And what about this Buddha that had shown up from overseas? There were temples to him popping up all over the place. They weren’t so sure about all of this, but they knew their local kami and their local priests, who helped with the local harvests, and that was enough for them. The court and their fancy learning could figure out what the country needed, but they were going to stay focused on the day to day, instead.
Here we are, in the reign of Uno no Sarara, widow of Ohoama and mother to the late Prince Kusakabe, known to history as Jitou Tennou. We’ve actually been in Uno’s reign for several episodes now, but while we’ve talked about how that reign began and the roles a lot of other people played in that beginning, this episode I would finally like to start focusing on her—who she was, where she came from, and what she did. Since that covers a lot of ground, we are going to cover some of her history up to this reign, and we’ll be mostly focusing on two major updates—the creation of the new capital of Fujiwara, aka Fujiwara-kyou, and the increased royal patronage of Ise, which is thought to have been responsible for the ascendancy of Amaterasu as the paramount kami of the pantheon of Shinto kami.
So let’s start at the very beginning. It is traditionally held that Uno no Sarara was born around 645 to Naka no Oe and Soga no Ochi no Iratsume. Ochi was the daughter of Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, cousin to the powerful Soga no Iruka. Naka no Oe’s marriage to Ochi no Iratsume and her sister, Mehi no Iratsume, had been part of a strategic alliance with Ishikawa no Maro, who helped him overthrow his cousins and institute the Taika Reforms. We talked about all of that back in Episode 106, as well as subsequent podcasts after that covering the next several reigns.
So 645 is about the earliest Uno no Sarara may have been born, the very start of the Taika era, when her father began instituting a lot of changes based on continental practices. She would have grown up in the inner buildings of the Asuka court during this time of immense change. She was probably a bit young when the Toyosaki palace was first built, though she may have remembered when the court abandoned it and moved back to Asuka.
Unfortunately, when she was only five years old, tragedy struck. Ishikawa no Maro, who had been made the Udaijin, or Minister of the Right, was slandered by his own brother, Soga no Himuka, and in return, Naka no Oe sent a force to have him punished. When he saw he could not get away, Uno no Sarara’s grandfather, Ishikawa no Maro, took his own life. The Nihon Shoki—written, I should note, at least partly under the direction of Maro’s granddaughter—claims that evidence came to light demonstrating his innocence, and he was posthumously exonerated.
Maro’s daughter, Miyatsuko no Iratsume, was so saddened by all of this that we are told she died of a broken heart. Miyatsuko no Iratsume appears to be another name for Ochi no Iratsume, and if so, it would mean that Uno no Sarara lost both her mother and grandfather when she was only five years old due to the actions of her own father. This sounds to me like it should be some kind of villain origin story.
From there, she was likely taken care of by her aunts and other women in the palace, at least until 657. It was about that time, at the age of 13, that she was married off to her uncle, Prince Ohoama. We don’t have a precise age for Ohoama, but he was likely no more than 5 years younger than Uno’s father, Naka no Oe, and some estimates suggest he was in his late 20s or early 30s, taking to wife his 13 year old niece. I can’t help but think, here, of the Heian period novel, the Tale of Genji, where the titular character, Genji, finds Lady Murasaki and marries her at the age of 10.
Uno no Sarara would have grown up in her uncle-husband’s home, and she was still young when the entire realm was placed on a war footing.When the court moved to Kyushu in 661 for the prosecution of the war on the continent, Uno no Sarara went with her husband, and a year later gave birth to their son, Prince Kusakabe. She was probably about 18 years old at the time.   I suspect that means She probably knew about her grandmother, Takara Hime, passing away, something that the inner circle of the royal family had attempted to keep relatively quiet for fear of disrupting the war effort.
Soon after her own son was born, news came back that the forces on the continent had lost. Baekje had fallen, and Yamato could be next. She would have traveled with her husband and the rest of the court back to Asuka and, eventually, up to Ohotsu, where her father now ruled with his brother as his right-hand man and heir to the throne.
At this time, Uno no Sarara was no stranger to politics. While her husband was in line for the throne, she knew that her brothers were also potential claimants, once they came of age. The Nihon Shoki disqualifies them through their parentage, but we see that didn’t stop the Afumi court from rallying behind Prince Ohotomo. There was also the royal princes Kawashima and Shiki. Prince Takeru would have technically been a potential threat as well, had he not died, tragically, at only eight years of age.
Now, technically, some may have been more in line than others, but Uno no Sarara knew how her own father had jumped the line, displacing her late uncle, Furubito no Oe, and it was clear something similar might happen this time around. There were also likely a few indications that not everything was great between her father and her husband, although you would hardly know it from the number of her siblings that were also residing in the north chambers of his residence.
Things came to a head in 671. At this point, Uno no Sarara was in her late 20s with a 10 year old son, and it was looking, for a moment, like her father, despite his illness, might have Ohoama killed to pave the way for Naka no Oe’s own son, Uno’s brother, Ohotomo. When Ohoama surprised everyone and stepped down, taking the tonsure, she was the only one to follow him. We don’t know if this is because she was that loyal to her husband, or because she had no other options. If her mother had taken her own life after her grandfather’s death, she may have had nobody but her father, Naka no Oe, to turn to, and he was clearly doing poorly. If she stayed, then she would be relying on the goodwill of Prince Ohotomo and others while looking after the nine year old son and heir of Ohoama, who was clearly persona non grata at court.
In contrast, one of Ohoama’s other consorts, Munakata no Amago no Iratsume would have had the Munakata family to fall back on, should she need it, and her son, Prince Takechi, was a bit older. In addition, Uno’s sister, Ohota no Himemiko had passed away earlier, in 667, and it is unclear who cared for her son, Prince Ohotsu, who was only a year younger than Uno’s son, Kusakabe. However, he, too, appears to have remained at the Afumi court with his caretakers.
So Uno no Sarara went to Yoshino with her husband. From this point on, Yoshino would become an important place for her, and during her own reign she would frequently make visits to the palace there, sometimes just for a couple of days at a time.
After Naka no Oe’s death, and the entire conflict of the Jinshin no Ran that kicked off in 672, Uno stayed by her husband’s side. She and Kusakabe made the incredible overnight journey from Yoshino to the other side of the Kii Peninsula, eventually setting up in Mie. Ohoama would continue on towards Fuwa pass, where his son Takechi was already stationed with loyal soldiers. Before that, however, he is mentioned as turning towards Ise—towards Amaterasu. The implication seems to be that he was praying for victory. It is also notable that a large part of his support was coming from the East and from areas around Ise.
Little is mentioned of Uno’s role in the record of the Jinshin no Ran, but in the opening to her reign there is a mention that she addressed the troops and mingled with the throng, until at last they formed a plan. This seems to indicate that she was involved in the planning, at least, for the prosecution of the war. On the one hand she was placed well behind the front lines. On the other hand, she was well positioned to assist with logistics. Troops and supplies from the north could come down and be redirected to the south depending on what was needed, and communications would likely be more secure through that area fully controlled by Ohoama’s troops. It is easy enough to imagine Uno no Sarara taking a role, even if it isn’t explicitly mentioned. The fact that she is mentioned as much as she is suggests to me that she had plenty to contribute to the war effort.
As the war of 672 came to a close, Ohoama had to move from a war footing to one of peacetime governance. As he ascended to the throne in 673, Uno no Sarara was made his queen. And in light of the recent issues, Ohoama appears to have leaned heavily on her and other members of the royal family for support.
And so Uno no Sarara was not just a delicate flower sitting in the hinter palace, waiting on her husband. She was an active participant in the government. When Ohoama called the various princes down to Yoshino and had them swear to uphold and support each other, she was included in their number. And the Chronicles explicitly mention that when the princes swore to uphold each other, Ohoama swore he would also support them, and then Uno no Sarara made her oath like his. That is interesting in that she isn’t included in the five princes, but rather with the sovereign, her husband. It appears she approached this from the point of view of a ruler already. Or perhaps she was not considered to be in the line of succession, and the focus was on upholding the various princes. Either way, we see how that eventually turned out.
Later, when starting the project for what is believed to be the Kiyomihara codes, she was seated on the dais with her husband, indicating that she certainly was involved in various matters of state. She also gave and received presents from the various nobles, including suits of clothing, gold, and more. When Ohoama grew ill, and could not carry out the functions of the government alone, he deferred matters to her and to the Crown Prince, presumably meaning her son, Prince Kusakabe.
Now Kusakabe is recorded as being made Crown Prince, and thus heir to the throne, however, it has also been suggested that this might not have been the case. Some have suggested that Prince Ohotsu may have been the actual Crown Prince, and that he wasn’t plotting against Kusakabe and his mother, but rather it was the other way around, with Uno no Sarara clearing him off the field to make room for her son.
Ohotsu, remember, was the son of Ohoama by way of Ohota-hime, who was a full sister to Uno no Sarara. That meant that, from a strict bloodline perspective, Ohotsu had just as much of a claim to the throne as did Kusakabe, but Kusakabe was a year older—or so the Nihon Shoki, compiled under the reign of Uno and her successors, would have us believe. We are also told that Uno was formally designated as Ohoama’s queen—but again we have that from the Nihon Shoki, which is more than a little bit biased.
Personally, I feel this theory that Uno no Sarara plotted to have Ohotsu removed without anything else stretches some of what we know, but it does illustrate that Uno no Sarara had a vested interest in ensuring that the crown went to her own progeny. I’d be more inclined to believe that there was some movement a foot, even if it was perhaps not quite as treasonous as the response to it would warrant.
And this catches us up with much of what we know. Ohotsu was executed, but then Kusakabe passed away, and so Queen Uno no Sarara became Tennou in her own right.
Things hadn’t gone exactly to plan, but she still had her grandson, Prince Karu, the late Kusakabe’s son, whose mother, Princess Abe, was a younger-half sister to Uno no Sarara. Abe was the daughter of Naka no Oe and Mehi no Iratsume, making Abe another grand-daughter of Soga no Kuramayada no Ishikawa no Maro. She was also 17 years Sarara’s junior and only a year older than the late Kusakabe. By all accounts, it seems that Abe and Sarara got on well together, though she is not as prominent in the narrative that we have in the Nihon Shoki. Still, she had an important role, not in terms of governance, but in terms of ensuring that the line continued. She was in charge or protecting and raising young Prince Karu until he was ready to take the throne. In so doing, she would no doubt have had a front row seat to Queen Uno’s own efforts.
Since Uno no Sarara had already been so involved with the government, it should come as no surprise that she continued many of the efforts attributed to her husband. In fact, you’ll often find references to Temmu and Jitou side-by-side to describe what happened because very few things can be attributed to just one of the two, especially given how long some of these projects seem to have taken. That said, there were some differences. While Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, had relied primarily on members of the royal family following the Jinshin no Ran, Uno was much more likely to rely on trusted nobles, whose position at court was largely held thanks to the patronage of the royal family. Having nobles running things again, rather than handing over power to those of the Princely class, may have provided opportunities for those noble houses to once again flex and grow their political muscle, but it was either that or hand that same power over to other princes with claims to royal descent—princes who might encourage the court that it would better if they, themselves, were to succeed the Queen, rather than the young prince, her own actual bloodline. Even the loyal Prince Takechi, who seems to have supported her and Prince Karu as best he could, could easily have become a threat. This could be one of the reasons she held on to power as long she did. It was, after all, a deliberate choice on her part. She could have had someone else step in as regent, but she chose not to.
We’ve talked about Uno’s dealings with Silla and the continent at this time. That was back in Episode 148, when we talked about how Ohoama was mourned and how Yamato dealt with the early missions. We discussed, thenhow she berated the Silla envoys for not adhering to protocol and turning them away. She also met with Emishi and Hayato embassies, which only helped to cement Yamato’s place as the central hegemony over the archipelago and all those living on the islands.
At first, this was just an extension of what she and Kusakabe had been doing since Ohoama had first grown ill and handed over the reins of government. But then Kusakabe died—and life went on. Later, Kusakabe would be remembered as Okanomiya Tennou and the Nagaoka Tennou. While not counted in the formal lineage, he was still granted the title “Tennou” posthumously, likely to help legitimize his son and that lineage. And yet, despite this, there is no report of a eulogy or anything similar upon his death. Even Royal Prince Ohotsu, when he was killed for threatening Kusakabe’s own ascendance, is given a fairly wordy entry full of praise for his virtues and how he was remember. For Kusakabe we get silence. Things just move on.
Indeed, just two weeks after the Crown Prince’s death, we get orders talking about given people four holidays each month. It seems a rather banal announcement coming the same week that the Crown Prince passed away.
And banal it may be, but I do want to pick at it a bit. I think it helps us understand even more the life at that time. In most of the world, today, we have become accustomed to the western concept of a week with seven days, including two holidays every week—though we just refer to it as the weekend. Saturday and Sunday began as holy days—the Sabbath in Jewish and then Christian tradition. Even Judaism only had a single day of rest every seven days. Many cultures did not have the concept of a weekend. After all, there wasn’t anything particularly special about one day or the other. A lunar month is just under 30 days—alternating between 29 and 30 days depending on various factors. Five would fit into that much better than four seven day weeks and two more days. Or divide it into two 15 day periods, more or less. Or three weeks of ten days each. In fact, that is what was popular in the Tang dynasty at the time—though a seven day week had crept in through Buddhism, which had been picked up on the Indian subcontinent thanks to Hellenic influences. This seven day week, which is now used in modern times, was originally used more by astronomers. The days corresponded to the Sun, the Moon, and the visible planets.
The point is, there’s no such thing as a natural weekend. At some point, the Tang court introduced a rest period every five days for court officials. In Yamato, it seems that they introduced four holidays. Specifically, the local governors were to give laborers—those conscripted as corvee labor—four days every month. It doesn’t mention if they are spaced out, or at what intervals, and it was specifically for laborers. I should probably also mention that, at this time, there wasn’t a concept of a “9-to-5” job. Sure, the court operated on a schedule that may have fit fairly well in our modern life, other than its extremely early start due to the lack of cheap, safe artificial light sources. Most people, however, especially in the agricultural sectors, were likely working from sunrise to sunset, when necessary. There was no concept of overtime or a forty hour work week. You worked when you needed to work, and that was it. No time cards, just life, punctuated by holidays, festivals, market days, and whatever else needed to happen. Oddly, in our modern, more regular work schedule we work both more and less, in some ways, than our ancestors did.   Our labor often goes into things beyond our job—everything from taking care of our home to various hobbies that we enjoy. Giving laborers time off from their endeavors was no doubt something they appreciated, but I don’t know how much of an impact it had on things long term.
A more interesting endeavor comes a few months later. That is when Uno had a royal commission come together as commissioners of “good words”. We mentioned this before, especially when talking about Kose no Tayasu, who had been part of this commission, though he was the lowest ranked of the bunch. At the top it was headed by Prince Shiki, a half-brother to Uno, and one of those who had pledged his loyalty with other members of the royal family down in Yoshino, though at the time Shiki was only about 11 years old. He was the son of Koshi no Michi no Kimi no Iratsume, and a brother to Prince Osakabe. In 689, when he took charge of this commission from his half-sister, he would have been in his 22nd year, so this was probably one of his first major assignments.
We don’t have a finished product that we can point to from this project, so there isn’t a clear idea of exactly what the commission did. Aston believed that they were attempting to determine auspicious words to be used by the court. By this one could infer that they were looking into the way to draw up formal language for edicts, or how to formally address the sovereign and members of the court. However, others have suggested that this was more about finding stories and other such things and writing them down. If that is the case, this may have been a continuation of—or perhaps an addendum to—the history project started during the reign of Ohoama. The words, or stories, that the commission wrote down were likely used by later Chroniclers, though there is no specific work that is clearly attributed to their efforts. So in the end we can’t exactly know for sure.
What we can see is that Uno no Sarara was continuing to make tweaks and changes to things—and in particular in how things were stated, remembered, and passed down to posterity, one way or another. This is also part of what we see later that same month, when the 22 books of what we now call the Kiyomihara Law Codes were also published. Like the history project, this was also begun during the reign of Ohoama, and Uno had continued to see it through. It appears to have been just the law itself, not necessarily the punishments which made up the other half of the Ritsuryou, but it is still significant. Unfortunately, we don’t know exactly what was in it—the earliest law code that we have good evidence for is the Taihou code, which would come over a decade later—but we have seen some of the edicts and orders and we can make some assumptions based on later law codes as well as the language used to even define the court and how things ran. Much of what was written had likely been promulgated, previously, and a lot of this may have been more documenting the changes they had already put in place.
There is also the Afumi law code, but there are even more questions about that one. This is possibly the first one written down to this level of detail. Though it would be superseded, later, it was still an impressive work.
As in past reigns, we see things both monumental and mundane. A month after the law codes were finished, we see about orders to the Mayors of the Left and Right to set up places for Archery—literally glossed as “Ikusa”, or “war”, but likely because the two had a common root and archery and war were closely intertwined. As for the Mayors of the Left and Right, this is the first time we are seeing those terms, and I suspect they are also part of the reforms that Uno no Sarara and her late husband had been implementing. The Mayors of the Left and Right of the Capital are known as Kyoushiki or, alternatively, as Misato-zukasa. They were like kokushi, or governors, except they oversaw the capital city. Now remember, the quote-unquote “capital city” in use at this point is Asuka—it is the Kiyomihara palace and environs. There were other streets, buildings, and such around, but nothing terribly organized. Most family estates were off in their own lands or strongholds. At the same time, the court was building out a new, permanent capital. It was taking time—and likely had been put on hold during the three year mourning period for the late Ohoama Ohokimi. It required that they survey and transform an immense and populated area into a new and impressive capital in the area known today as Kashihara. This work took years—they likely had to divert labor to build the late sovereign’s mausoleum, or misasagi, and there were droughts and other reasons why they may have had to pause work. And yet, it continued, nonetheless.
The main ideal for a capital city was based off of continental models. While Luoyang may have been the more active capital, the western capital of the Tang dynasty, at Chang’an—modern Xi’an—appears to have been a more quintessential capital city layout, and may have been what the Yamato capital was attempting to mimic—though they may have also been relying on the theoretical Confucian model, as well. In fact, I tend to think that the Confucian model was closer to this first attempt at a permanent capital. Early on, excavations assumed that the palace structures were towards the northern end of the city, but further investigations have suggested that the scale of Fujiwara-kyo was much more ambitious, and some maps of the area place the palace towards the center of the city. Either way, there were several key things about the capital and how it mimicked the continental models. One of the primary things that Yamato had appropriated from across the strait was the north-south orientation of the palace, with the main audience hall facing south, so as to get the sun. This meant that, from the point of view of the sovereign in that hall, the left side would be the east and the right side would be to the west. And so the capital city was divided into a left and right, east and west, and each half had its own administrator responsible for taxation, public safety, and general law and order. They were, as I said, similar to the governors of the various provinces in the scope of their powers, except that they oversaw the capital city.
The building of the Fujiwara capital is perhaps one of the most obvious changes that Uno no Sarara was overseeing. As I’ve mentioned before, it was a physical manifestation of court. The three sacred mountains which were included within the boundaries of the capital were woven into the myths and legends that would find their way into the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki. The size and scale of the earthworks and the stones laid as foundation demonstrate that this was clearly meant to be a permanent capital, overturning the idea that there would be a huge change every time a sovereign passed away. Instead, there would be consistency. The order of the state would go on.
Later we’ll talk about reasons why the Fujiwara capital was abandoned. For now, though, let’s look at what we see about its construction.
In 690, the same year that Uno ascended to the throne, Royal Prince Takechi, Ohoama’s oldest son, inspected the site where the new Fujiwara palace was to be placed. Two months later, Uno no Sarara came out to see it for herself. I imagine this as being the point where the land had been cleared, and they could see the mountains and the placement and get an idea of the overall size of what they were looking for. With royal approval, the project continued.
A year later, in 691, officials were sent to perform the Chin-sai, the pacification ceremony, for the new capital. Today, this is a common ceremony, known as a Jichin-sai, or Earth Pacification Ceremony, done before undertaking a construction project. Theoretically it is before breaking ground on the project, though there is often some amount of preparation that has to be done in preparation. The idea for the Jichin-sai is to effectively negotiate with the spirits of the land before disturbing the area, a recognition that the process of construction is going to alter the natural landscape. As such, one wants to propitiate the spirits and the kami that are on the land to ensure that the construction is successful. This was likely a much older ritual, but this is the first mention we have of it in the record. This ceremony was also apparently directed at the new capital as a whole, while a year later another ceremony was held specifically for the new palace complex. In the intervening time we see the court laying out the roads and giving land for the various mansions of court nobles, like Tajihi no Shima’s four chou of land—roughly ten acres. Those of Jikikwoni rank and above were given two chou, and those from Jikidaisan down were given one chou. Those of Gon rank on down would get land dependant on the number of inhabitants in their fiefs. First class fiefs would get one chou, while second class would warrant a half chou and at the bottom they would get one quarter chou. This was apparently the land that they were being given in the capital to build their personal residences. Other land was given out for markets, temples, and other necessary facilities, but this whole city really was being built from scratch.
Shortly after the pacification ceremony for the palace, officials were sent out to the major shrines of the time. This included the great gods, the Ohokami, of Ise, Yamato, Sumiyoshi, and Kii. So not just the local kami, but also the larger kami who were seen as the kami of the archipelago more generally.
It would still take another year to build the palace. Uno visited the site a few times during the construction, with her last visit just a quick outing on the 8th month of 693. At that point it was likely ready, though she wouldn’t formally move into the new palace until the first month of 694. Before that, though, there was one other thing that had to happen. In the 2nd month of 693 they had to rebury the bodies.
That’s right. The Fujiwara capital occupied a huge swath of the plain of what is now known as Kashihara. And that plain had been settled for centuries—all through the kofun period. And those kofun, and possibly even older funkyubo, the older mixed-use burial mounds—would have been destroyed in the making of the new capital. There also may have been plain pit burials that were dug up while laying out roads and foundations. I don’t know that there was anything approaching the size of the larger, keyhole shaped mounds, but we have no way to know for certain how many were there that had to be destroyed or moved. I also have not seen any indications of any mass reburial site—whether they opened an existing tomb or simply dug a pit in the ground somewhere. I imagine that such a find would be incredible, but unless archaeologists stumble upon it, I guess we’ll never know. Still, it is interesting, and almost poetic as we move further and further from the kofun period, this feels like the final nail in the proverbial coffin, if you’ll forgive the pun. Indeed, when Uno no Sarara finally passes away, she will become one of the first sovereigns to be cremated, with her ashes and burnt remains then deposited in the existing tomb with her husband, Ohoama, rather than having a new mounded tomb built. Buddhist style cremation would eventually become commonplace throughout the archipelago, though sovereigns would still have special mausoleums built for their memory, it really was a change from the ancient practices.
From 694 onward, the court would meet at the new Fujiwara Palace. Compared to previous palaces, I can only imagine how impressive this one must have seemed. Based on what we can tell, it was likely built much more in the continental style. Previous palaces had largely been in the style of the archipelago, with what we believe was plain wood and a thatched roof. The Fujiwara palace was likely a mix, but with more of the continental style than the previous Kiyomihara place. It also dwarfed its predecessor, at over twice the size. It was actually much closer in size and shape to the Toyosaki palace, in Naniwa. At the southern end of the palace was the Suzaku mon, the Suzaku gate, followed by the choshu-den’in, a courtyard with two buildings, one in the east and one in the west, where officials could wait and prepare for the day. From there they would be let into the Chodoin, a large court yard with four buildings on the east and west, and four more at the southernmost point. These would be where the various departments, or bureaus, would operate. There were also gates in the east and west of the Chodoin for easier access. To the north was another gate, leading to the Daigokuden, the main audience hall. This would have been quite the impressive and imposing structure—the main focus of the palace. It was in its own walled enclosure, and would have been the seat of the sumera Mikoto, or Tennou. It was both inside and apart from the Dairi, the inner palace. This was the actual residence of the sovereign and the royal family. The dairi itself occupied more land than the entire Kiyomihara palace. None of the buildings exist, but we can see their footprint from the large foundation stones and there are numerous rooftiles and other architectural features that fell off or were removed and then buried, purposefully or not, allowing us to get some idea of the size and scale of the project.
And yet, it appears that this palace may not have been completed when they moved in. The entire city was likely still under construction, in fact. The main pieces were in place, but to build an entire city from scratch took a lot of work. Most of the buildings would have been built with more traditional—and less labor intensive—practices. You didn’t need a false second story gallery some thirty feet off the ground, even if you were the Minister of the Right. It was enough to have a relatively simple mansion with gardens, servants quarters, and everything else needed to keep you comfortable. That in and of itself was going to put a strain on labor and other resources.
And so it looks like some parts of the galleries and other features may not have been finished even while Uno no Sarara was there. In fact, it may not have been fully finished by the time they moved again. The Fujiwara capital, the first permanent capital city, was only occupied from 694 until about 710—less than two decades. This massive project, taking multiple years and how many people to create, would be abandoned several years later. The buildings would be torn down and moved to the new site—Heijou-kyou, in modern Nara city. And yet, the impact of Fujiwara kyou would remain.
Besides making changes to the physical landscape, Uno no Sarara was also focused on the spiritual landscape as well. Both Ohoama and Uno not only supported the Buddhist temples, building new temples and leveraging the ceremonies, but they also supported the traditional kami. During the Jinshin no Ran, Ohoama turned and addressed the kami of Ise before heading to the Fuwa barrier. Later we see a greater focus on Ise Shrine, with Saigu, the royal princesses sent to Ise Shrine as the Shrine priestess, being heavily reported. In fact, the position seems to have not been commented on much until this reign, and there is some thought that Ohoama and Uno actually instituted the practice—or at least made it a formal part of the court and the royal household. This is combined with their support of the Jingikan, the state governmental body responsible for dealing with kami matters. At this time it appears to have been even more powerful, in many ways, than the other bureaus or departments of the Great Council of State, the Dajokan.
There are plenty who argue that the preeminence of Ise was born in this period. Early Yamato worship focused more on the deity of Mt. Miwa: Ohomononushi. Sun worship seems to have also been baked into the rituals of the ethnic Wa people, but that wasn’t necessarily focused on Amaterasu—and Amaterasu was not necessarily seen as a feminine goddess. Early worship appears to focus on the deities such as Takabi Musubi, and similarly named deities. These are deities that show up in court ritual, and presumably date back to well before this period. Thanks to the fact that we get alternate stories in the Nihon Shoki, we occasionally see them take a more central role in events, such as the descent of the Heavenly Grandson, but at the same time we also see that the main throughline of the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki has placed Amaterasu more front and center in the narrative.
Ama Terasu effectively translates to something like “The Shining of Heaven”. In neither the Japanese nor Sinitic language is she particularly gendered most of the time, and this may have been a more generic name for the concept of a sun deity.   I believe it is also somewhat telling that the Ichi-no-miya, the First Shrine, or primary shrine, of Ise is not Ise Shrine, but rather Tsubaki Grand Shrine, which is the home of Sarutahiko Ohokami. Even in the Nihon Shoki, there is a narrative regarding the yata no kagami, the great mirror, that it was moved from its original location in the Nara Basin over to Ise and the shrine was then established there, marking the shrine as a relative late-comer to the region rather than marking a particularly ancient spot. The Great Kami of Ise then appears to have taken on some of the shine, pun intended, of Sarutahiko, who is no longer seen as a sun-deity, and is even placed in the way of the Heavenly Grandchild’s descent—perhaps a subtle nod to some of the tensions between the worship of one over the other.
Besides sending the Shrine Princess, the Saigu, to Ise, the sovereigns themselves made plans to go, in person. Ohoama made preparations, including purifying himself, but his trip was cancelled due to a sudden death in the palace. He is never recorded as making the trip, after that. Uno no Sarara, however, did make the trip, in 692.
This was clearly quite the production, and requires several entries in the Nihon Shoki. The first entry is in the 2nd month of the year, when she makes her intentions clear. The Court officials were set to task to prepare all the necessary clothing for the trip, which was about 3 weeks out. This likely also meant preparing the road, ensuring that there would be food, and a place for Uno no Sarara and her entourage to stay when they reached Ise. The preparations clearly had an impact, as Miwa no Ason no Takechimaro, a Chunagon, or Middle Counselor, presented a memorial to remonstrate with her majesty on the trip. He noted that they were in the middle of the agricultural season—roughly April or May by modern standards—and a royal trip would have an outsized impact on the areas where she would be traveling through. His remonstration was heard, and overruled. Uno no Sarara was determined to go. As she delegated the Prince Hirose, Tahema no Mabito no Chitoko, and Ki no Ason no Yumibari to all look after the palace while she was away, Miwa no Takechimaro reiterated his remonstration and then took a drastic step: He offered to her his cap—basically he offered to resign his rank. This was quite the step, and not from nobody.
Miwa no Takechimaro was from a prominent family. As their name suggests, they were connected to Mt. Miwa, and the worship, there. Based on what evidence we have, he was probably born around 657 CE, and when he was about 16 years old he was fighting on the side of Ohoama in the Jinshin no Ran. In particular, he was involved in the fighting near Hashihaka kofun, and then moved over to attack the Afumi forces on the Middle Road. There is evidence after that of him making his way up through the ranks, and was even one of those who offered a eulogy for Ohoama. As Chunagon, he was in a fairly powerful position in court, and giving up his court rank would mean not just a loss in status, but also giving up the income associated with that rank.
And this remonstration may be why we are told that the court commuted taxes, including forced labor, for the lands that she passed through, and she recognized the local Kuni no Miyatsuko with cap-rank. She also remitted taxes for those who had been conscripted to help from elsewhere, such as her baggage handlers, the people who built the temporary palace for her to stay in, in Ise, etc. So even if the procession to Ise had an impact, she seems to have done her best to lessen the blow.
As for Takechimaro, we don’t see him again in the Nihon Shoki, but he does show up later. He would become the governor of Nagato, and then later he is given positions such as the Mayor of the Sakyou, or Left Capital. So it would seem that either his resignation wasn’t accepted, or that he was re-hired at some later point. He would pass away in 706 CE.
By the way, there is one other notable feature about him, and you may have caught it as I went over all of this. That was the name of his uji, or clan: Miwa, or Ohomiwa.    This means he had a connection to—and possibly a vested interest in—promoting the worship at Mt. Miwa, the traditional Yamato cultic center. Nothing is outright stated, but it makes sense that someone from Miwa might be a little bit concerned with the extra attention being given to the shrine at Ise around this time—so there is that, as well.
Regardless of his intentions, it certainly seems that from that point on Ise Shrine and the deity worshipped there, Amaterasu Ohokami, would be tied to the imperial line from the late 7th century onward. Clearly the royal patronage of the shrine stepped up, and for the most part we do see a fairly regular stream of Saigu, with one slight exception: There doesn’t appear to have been one during Uno no Sarara’s reign. Ohoku no Himemiko had been sent down during the reign of Ohoama, but she was the sister to Prince Ohotsu, and appears to have returned after his death. The position appears to have remained vacant until after Uno no Sarara’s reign. It makes me wonder if she wasn’t “filling in” for the Saigu, in a way. That could, in part, explain her travels there. There also may not have been a good candidate at the time, but I find that less believable—perhaps there was no candidate that Uno trusted given the precarious position her own bloodline was in at the moment. Still, after her reign, the position of Saigu would be regularly filled by a member of the royal family through the end of the Heian period. It was interrupted by the Genpei wars, and then the practice fell into decline during the period of the Kamakura bakufu. Late Edo period pro-imperialists tried to restore the practice, but it didn’t catch back on.
Despite the apparent importance of the shrine to the royal family, it would also remain somewhat aloof. The priests of the shrine would provide the sacred mirror for ascension ceremonies, but it would be very rare for any sitting sovereign to actually pay a visit to the shrine, and, as I mentioned before, Amaterasu was not one of the deities reflected in the inner court rituals. Still, she would come to be seen as the dominant kami of the Shinto pantheon, and even today, many shrines will hold space for her as well as the primary deity; home shrines, or kamidana, will often include ofuda for Amaterasu as a central point of worship, with kami associated with one’s local shrines as well.
So there you have just a little taste of what Uno no Sarara was up to. Whether she had intended to be in this position or had it thrust onto her, she was no shrinking violet. She took control of the ship of state and set a course that would continue to influence the archipelago down to the modern day. The reforms that started with her father and husband she continued and made manifest in the physical and spiritual world. And this is only the beginning. There is more to talk about regarding Uno no Sarara’s reign, and her eventual abdication, but for that, we will have to wait until Part 2.
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And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

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Duthie, T. (09 Jan. 2014). Man’yōshū and the Imperial Imagination in Early Japan. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill. https://doi.org/10.1163/9789004264540
Como, M. (2009). Weaving and binding : immigrant gods and female immortals in ancient Japan. University of Hawaiʻi Press.
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Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN 0-80480984-4.