Mountain Mandalas: Shugendō in Kyushu 9781474249003, 9781474249034, 9781474249010

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Mountain Mandalas

Bloomsbury Shinto Studies Series editor: Fabio Rambelli

The Shinto tradition is an essential component of Japanese religious culture. In addition to indigenous elements, it contains aspects mediated from Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, and, in more recent times, Western religious culture as well—plus, various forms of hybridization among all of these different traditions. Despite its cultural and historical importance, Shinto studies have failed to attract wide attention also because of the lingering effects of uses of aspects of Shinto for the ultranationalistic propaganda of Japan during WW II. The Series makes available to a broad audience a number of important texts that help to dispel the widespread misconception that Shinto is intrinsically related to Japanese nationalism, and at the same time promote further research and understanding of what is still an underdeveloped field.

Mountain Mandalas Shugendō in Kyushu Allan G. Grapard

Bloomsbury Academic An imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc LON DON • OX F O R D • N E W YO R K • N E W D E L H I • SY DN EY

Bloomsbury Academic An imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

50 Bedford Square London WC1B 3DP UK

1385 Broadway New York NY 10018 USA

www.bloomsbury.com BLOOMSBURY and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published 2016 Paperback edition first published 2017 © Allan G. Grapard, 2016 Allan G. Grapard has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. No responsibility for loss caused to any individual or organization acting on or refraining from action as a result of the material in this publication can be accepted by Bloomsbury or the author. British Library Cataloguing-­in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: HB: 978-1-4742-4900-3 PB: 978-1-3500-4493-7 ePDF: 978-1-4742-4901-0 ePub: 978-1-4742-4902-7 Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress Series: Bloomsbury Shinto Studies Typeset by RefineCatch Limited, Bungay, Suffolk

To Carolyn

Contents Illustrations Preface Organization of the Book Acknowledgements Note on Translation and Text

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3

Shugendō and the Production of Social Space Kyushu Island: an ignored world The Hachiman cult’s nebulous origins Usa: from prehistoric village to cultic city Oracular pronouncements as divine directives The early Heian period: Iwashimizu Hachiman The Kunisaki Peninsula and links to Usa Mount Hiko Geotyped and Chronotyped Social Spaces Hachiman’s traveling icons Mount Hiko: of swords, meteors, dragons, and goshawks Waiting for dawn on Mount Hiko: the geotype and chronotype of heterotopia Mount Hiko’s sacred perimeter: four corners and three dimensions Altitude and altered states of mind: creating a Dōjō Mandala templates: divine planning Geotyped and chronotyped, encoded, mandalized bodies The visionary imperative Festivities and Processions: Spatialities of Power Mount Hiko as a socio-­ritualized space Mount Hiko’s conflicts with Mount Hōman and the Shōgo-­in monzeki Mount Hiko’s ritual calendar The New Year’s shushō tsuina rite: expel and invite The shushō goō rite: paper, pill, oath The kissho shūgi rite: sanctioning power and rank

ix xi xiii xiv xvi 1 6 12 15 34 38 48 66 83 85 103 112 115 123 137 143 148 157 157 166 168 170 171 173

Contents

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Mountain sanctuaries awash in seawater: the shioitori rite For the birds: the Zōkei gokū rite The Matsue and Ondasai ritual festivities Mineiri: the mandalized peregrinations Mandalized itineraries Practices in the mountains The Daigyōji shrines and water Usa Hachiman’s oracular spatialities Kunisaki: a much-­disturbed heterotopia The geognostic realm of the lotus in Kunisaki Coursing through the peninsula

174

Shattered Bodies, Statues, and the Entreaties of Truncated Memory Mount Hiko’s quasi-­destruction and fall into irrelevance Kunisaki: one breath away from the void of modernity Usa: Hachiman’s return in disguise

235

178 180 190 194 201 206 208 216 223 231

235 239 243

Afterword: From Spatialities to Dislocation Rays of light

245

Japanese Glossary Notes Bibliography Index

249

246

261 287 295

Illustrations Figures   1   2   3   4   5   6   7

Plan of Usa Hachiman Shrine’s grounds Photograph of wooden model of Mount Hiko Computer image of same model Meanings of the word yamabushi The male body as Stūpa Body positioned as seed-­letter vam Process of meditation on Jōjin section of the Adamantine Mandala

90 141 142 145 147 148 197

Maps   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9 10 11 12 13 14

General map of Japan Kyushu Island North-­east Kyushu Iwashimizu complex location The Kunisaki Peninsula The twenty-­eight temples of Kunisaki Icons travel from Usa to Iwashimizu and back Icons travel from Usa to Komo, and Usa to Nada Shrine Landing sites of the five swords Location of known caves on Mount Hiko The four zones of Mount Hiko Course during the Shiori rite Mount Hiko three mineiri 2010 Mineiri of the Kunisaki Peninsula

xvii 7 14 40 51 57 89 94 106 119 134 175 199 243

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Illustrations

Tables   1 List of the twenty-­eight temples in Kunisaki   2 List of Mount Hiko’s abbots   3 The twenty-­eight attendants to Senju Kannon

58 81 120

Preface The Sanskrit word man ․d․ala means “circle” and originally refers to a circular space within which religious figures stood or sat in meditation. It has been known for quite some time in Europe, where the psychoanalyst Carl Jung used it in his work and in therapy, and is nowadays a common word because of general knowledge of Asian Buddhist ritual art in which mandalas are usually paintings drawn in two dimensions and associated with the symbols, attributes, and functions of discrete Buddhas and/or Bodhisattvas. They may appear as regular arrangements of squares, rectangles, circles, and triangles, among other shapes. In the case of Japan the word mandara is also used to refer to painted representations of sites of cult; in this case they were used either for personal meditational support, spiritual travel, or for didactic purposes. In Tantric cultures (where “esoteric” forms of Buddhism are dominant) each geometrical form can be filled with one or several anthropomorphic deities’ representations, theriomorphic emblems, graphic or phonetic symbols, or ritual implements. Color symbolism tends to be fixed, as are size and orientation; as such, they represent the apex of iconography used in rituals.1 The purpose of mandalas is to serve as practical supports for the ritualized meditations that characterize the convoluted liturgies and rituals of the esoteric/tantric forms of Buddhism in India, Tibet, Southeast Asia, China, Korea, and Japan. A mandala is also a graphic design used by initiates in their process of mystical identification with a number of deities, in a determined order at the end of which they achieve spiritual realization or special powers. Mandalas are not art in the modern sense, but as Kūkai (Kōbō Daishi, 774–835) himself wrote, artistic forms are the royal gate to correct insight, and they are not needed anymore once the insight in question is achieved. Some mandalas—such as colored-­sand Tibetan mandalas—are erased or thrown into water after completion; in East Asia the texts stipulate that ritual platforms used during meditations and rituals must be dismantled or put away. According to esoteric Buddhist doctrine the cosmos is the true “bodymind” of a Buddha in which there is no more distinction between physical and metaphysical characteristics. The cosmos itself issues forth from the Buddha’s meditation, which it engages in for its own pleasure; hence, the world is the very

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body of the Buddha in its state of awakening. Some mandalas represent landscapes and, in particular, mountains; when one speaks of a “Mount Hiko mandala,” for example, this refers to a specific type of mandala, with or without a painted representation of the mountain, that includes representations of various divine entities (Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, guardian deities, animals, and plants) that symbolize the mountain in question. As we will see in this study, however, in a deeper sense the three-­dimensional structure of a given mountain or entire mountain ranges is thought to be “mandalic.” This notion seems to have been a basis for envisioning discrete regions of this world and mountains in particular as “mandalas on earth” and as ideal places for performing the same ritualized meditations one would perform in front of a two-­dimensional mandala, and for elaborating specific social rules corresponding to no-­less specific metaphysical views. I call this elaborate process “mandalization,” which seems to have been particularly prevalent in Japan, the entirety of which eventually came to be considered as a twofold mandala.2 It should also be noted that mandalas served as planning devices in architecture, as one can see in Bagan (Myanmar), or in Angkor (Kampuchea) and Barabudur (in Magelang, Central Java, Indonesia), not to mention East Asia. The present study focuses on Japan and offers a geo-­historical approach to the cultural and cultic system of mandalization created by Shugendō (Japan’s mountain cults), and compares three adjacent regions located in the northeastern part of Kyushu Island: the cultic system of Mount Hiko; the cultic system of UsaHachiman; and the cultic system of the Kunisaki Peninsula. Distinct yet related, close but radically different, these regions and their multifarious cults prove that everything is local even when common underlying principles tend toward transcendence. Finally, Japanese mountain mandalas were deeply associated with preBuddhist local cults today subsumed under the name Shinto, and their combinations were anything but simple or superficial. As a matter of fact, I consider these combinations to be a dominant aspect of Japanese spiritual history and practices.

Organization of the Book Chapter one is primarily historical in character, with a heavy emphasis on the elaboration of the Hachiman cult. One of its main characteristics, oracles, is a central feature of this and other Japanese cults, and is briefly presented here and further analyzed in chapter three. The installation of Hachiman in Nara and the creation of the Iwashimizu complex located south of Kyoto are then discussed in the context of the rapport between Buddhism and “native” cults and suggests that Hachiman is a Buddhist creation. The presentation then moves on to the Kunisaki Peninsula’s blurry past and to the sudden eruption of Mount Hiko in the cultic universe of Kyushu Island. Chapter two focuses on the spatialities of the three sites of cult, starting with their elaboration and subsequent transformations: it presents the early Maitreya cult on Mount Hiko and Usa, and expands our understanding of the medieval Lotus Blossom Ritual, which undergirds the Four Zones of Mount Hiko forming a three dimensional mandala. The social features of rites and of the communities of the region are subsequently approached with attention to the close connections between ritual practice and social practice. This is followed by a presentation of rites connected to mandalization and to practices concerning the bodymind, with a final discussion of visionary experiences. Chapter three offers detailed presentations of various rites and festivities on Mount Hiko and tries to enhance our understanding of mandalization in spiritual and material terms, always keeping a focus on spatial and temporal characteristics. It discusses the oracular dimensions of the Hachiman cult and its features concerning time and space, and finally moves on to discuss the Kunisaki Peninsula’s Lotus symbolization and itinerant practices. Chapter four lays out the modern, sudden, and violent transformations of all ritual systems in the region in 1868, and mentions current efforts of reorganization.

Acknowledgements A large number of colleagues and friends deserve my heartfelt gratitude for supporting my work over a very long period of time. First and foremost, my wife Carolyn—to whom this book too is dedicated—for her sustained encouragement and angelic patience over the years: without her I would never have completed this exercise. I must also express my deep gratitude to my Japanese colleague and friend Marui Atsunao, Principal Scientist of Geo-­resources and Head of the Groundwater Research Group of the Environment Institute of the Geological Survey of Japan, AIST, whom I bothered too many times with naïve questions but who remained placid and helped me navigate administrative difficulties over many years. Everybody is now accustomed to getting fancy maps at the touch of a computer button, but this was not the case thirty-­five years ago, when digitizing maps to create 3-D models of Japanese mountains looked and felt like some outlandish and very arduous obstacle course. Three-­dimensionality is one key to this study, and Marui Atsunao taught me a great deal and showered me with his generosity in the form of countless detailed maps of Japan, computers and applications, wise counsel, and hospitality. In my view he is also one of the heroes who worked in Fukushima after the great tsunami disaster of March 11, 2011. Were it not for Fabio Rambelli, a great friend and superb colleague, this book would not have been published. He managed to convince me to give him the manuscript I almost forgot after retiring, and I owe him more than I can say. Scholars around the world have inspired me and/or assisted me with their critique and support; they are too numerous to be mentioned but I must list the names of a few who have played an important role in my study of Japanese sites of cult: Kuroda Toshio, Misaki Ryōshū, Murayama Shūichi, Nagano Tadashi, Nakano Hatayoshi, Sakakura Atsuyoshi (my mentor at Kyoto University between 1968 and 1975), Sakurai Tokutarō, Sugawara Shinkai, and many others. I am particularly indebted to Bernard Faure’s encouragements and wake-­up calls through many years; to R.J. Zwi Werblowsky and Moshe Idel, as well as to Frits Staal, for their friendship and support. In Kyushu I received warm welcome and assistance from everyone, but I will name just a few: the Reverend Takachiho Hidefumi, Vice-Head Priest of the Mount Hiko Shrine; the Reverend Murakami

Acknowledgements

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Gyōei, Head of the Engakuin Temple on Mount Hiei and resident of the Buzenbō-­in’s Tengūji Temple on Mount Hiko, and his father, Murakami Gyōsei. I must also mention my former graduate students who are now established scholars: Inoue Takami (professor at Otani University in Kyoto), Endō Masafumi, James Robson (professor at Harvard University), and Bruce Caron (Executive Director, New Media Research Institute in Santa Barbara, CA), generous to a fault for many years. May all those scholars and students who have not been named above be assured of my deep appreciation. Parts of this book have been published before in scholarly journals and books; I wish to thank the editors, and especially Kate Wildman Nakai, Editor of Monumenta Nipponica. The maps in this book and on the website of this book were made on the basis of the official digital and printed maps of the National Institute of Geography in Tsukuba, viewed on Kashmir 3-D sets of software and further elaborated on Photoshop. I am grateful to all. Finally, I wish to thank Anna MacDiarmid, editor at Bloomsbury Press in London, for her assistance when time and space, again, mattered. At the Flying Frog Studio, Honomu. July 2015.

Note on Translation and Text All translations are mine, unless otherwise stated. Naturally, all mistakes are also mine. This text contains a few Japanese graphs that were absolutely necessary. Transliteration of Japanese follows, in general, the Hepburn system, and diacritics are simple: a long “o” is marked as “ō”; a long “u” is marked as “ū”. With the exception of Japanese personal names (family name always first), all Japanese words are italicized. Transliteration of Sanskrit terms uses the following diacritical marks: ā, m . , h., . m, t. , d., s. , n., ś, and ī. Siddham . fonts are also used; they were created by myself and Fabio Rambelli on the Fontographer software, with a Summer Humanities Grant from the University of California, Santa Barbara, more than twenty years ago. Due to obsolete computers and applications the fonts were lost; I managed to restore a few but not all. Siddham . (Japanese: shittan) is a pre-Sanskritic syllabary that was transmitted to China and used in esoteric Buddhisms to represent individual deities and sounds in ritualized meditations, and on mandalas. It was also used in incantations and spells. Transmitted to Japan by Kūkai (Kōbō Daishi, 774–835), it is still widely used there. The current Shittan or Bonji boom, even beyond Japan, does not cease to impress me.

Note on Translation and Text

Map 1  General map of Japan Courtesy of National Institute of Geography, Tsukuba. Reworked on Photoshop.

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Shugendō and the Production of Social Space The term Shugendō may be translated as “Way to Supernatural Powers” and refers to an institutional and ritual system that was elaborated over a period of several centuries on the basis of various cults in the mountains of Japan.1 On the ritual level Shugendō evolved as a vehicle to realize Buddhahood by means of austerities and ascetic practices that were executed in mountains, and through the performance of rituals that were drawn, for the most part, from Esoteric Buddhism. These practices were sometimes related to Daoism as well, and Shugendō practitioners also created and maintained diverse cults dedicated to a multitude of native (Japanese) and foreign (Indian, Chinese, and Korean) entities. On the institutional level these mountain cults were managed by what is often referred to as (Shinto) shrines and (Buddhist) temples, but it is imperative to point out that these shrines and temples were associated for most of their history and formed vast cultic centers contemporary Japanese scholars call “shrine-­temple complexes” (jisha or, less commonly, shaji).2 Popularly known as yamabushi, Shugendō practitioners were ubiquitous in Japanese society for nearly one thousand years; they almost completely vanished from the landscape in 1872, when the Japanese government issued a decree that abolished Shugendō and forced its members to abandon their institutions and return to lay life. This decree was enforced until 1882 when the government allowed yamabushi to reorganize (along its rules), but the profound damage done by the 1868 events was irreversible. The post-­war constitution of 1945 guaranteed freedom of religion, and some Shugendō groups reconstituted themselves as best they could, and are quite active.3 Before they were submitted to the political and social erasures characteristic of Japan’s modern reconfiguration of cultural discourses and reorganization of social, economic, and physical spaces, however, these yamabushi had produced a striking culture. Based on pan-Asian ritual practices issued from Indian cults as well as Chinese Daoist practices, Korean mountain cults, and indigenous, local cults, this culture was also the result of combinations with the high theological and ritual traditions of Esoteric Buddhisms. In their

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Shingon (tōmitsu) and Tendai (taimitsu) forms, Japanese Esoteric Buddhisms long dominated Japanese ritual practices and soteriology, within institutional contexts that were often related to the imperial court’s outlook on power and legitimacy. Due to these multifarious combinations and to very diverse local conditions, the yamabushi produced social and cultic systems that are distinct from (but sometimes related to) other mountain cults in Asia and this sets them apart in ways that must be reflected in the means devised to study them. Shugendō institutions were sponsored or controlled successively by emperors, courtiers, warlords, and commoners, and their adherents had an apparently unlimited ability to assimilate, retain, create, or transform a variety of practices ranging from sophisticated “technologies of the self ” to the most peculiar therapeutic devices and to self-­torturing mortifications, including dances as well as contests of physical and spiritual strength.4 Constituted through the combinations of elements of several Asian cultures and through interactions between diverse social groups as it was, Shugendō formed a cornerstone of Japanese culture: it produced or refined elements of the philosophy and practice of space which characterize that culture, and it was instrumental in the formation of the concept of Japan as a territorial entity suffused with a sublimed character.5 It was, therefore, far more than a “folk religion,” the status to which it has been relegated by some Japanese scholars as well as by most Western scholars. Sustained academic attention to the world of Shugendō should contribute to a more provocative history of the relations between the physical and cultural landscapes of Japan, and may also lead to a reconsideration of the categories customarily used in the analysis of that country’s social, cultic, and political history. As a consequence of the features outlined above, and whenever possible, the term “religion” will be abandoned in this study and will be replaced with the term “cultic and cultural systems.” Japanese scholars almost invariably state that nature worship (shizen sūhai) and mountain creeds (sangaku shinkō) represent some of the oldest traceable components of their country’s spiritual character. Basing himself on the fact that about 74 per cent of the Japanese archipelago’s landmass consists of mountains, Murayama Shūichi, for example, suggests that Japan’s history is really the history of its mountains.6 He adds that the yamabushi’s attire and institutional affiliations linked them to major Buddhist temples, but that the mountains where they practiced and to which they dedicated cults as though they were living sacred entities, were actually pre-Buddhist sites of worship, a worship he says never dwindled. Murayama goes on to list the sites of mountain shrines recorded in official documents of the tenth century, thereby giving the impression that

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Shugendō came to be practiced in mountains that had long been regarded as sacred, and that it evolved as a Shinto-Buddhist combinatory cultic and cultural system in which one can also identify traces of “primitive magic,” Yin-Yang views and practices (onmyōdō), and mystical and therapeutic practices of various origins.7 Furthermore, Murayama points out that the study of Shugendō belongs to the domain of the ethnographer (because the yamabushi had a long history of complex interactions with commoners), but that it is also, though only collaterally, the domain of historians of religions and politics (because Shugendō was necessary to the aristocratic and military ruling classes, which used it for their own political and personal purposes.)8 This stance toward Shugendō is shared by leading authorities on the topic such as Miyake Hitoshi, Wakamori Tarō, Gorai Shigeru, and many others. Indeed, it is appropriate to reiterate here their view, according to which the world of the yamabushi has left deep traces not only on many mountains, but also on literature, the performing and visual arts, and concepts of legitimacy. All Japanese scholars agree on these points, and their research, which must be deemed of outstanding quality, is germane to some arguments this study will propose. A significant aspect of Shugendō is missing from the majority of studies published heretofore, however, and it can be characterized in two words: spatial knowledge. That is, even though Shugendō occupied the majority of Japan’s mountainous areas, and even though its practitioners stressed spatial aspects in their soteriology as well as in their cosmography and rituals, virtually no scholar has attempted to reconstruct the spatial dimensions of a meticulously elaborated world. Surprisingly, human geography and cartography are absent from the majority of studies of Shugendō that have been written in or out of Japan.9 A possible explanation is that Japanese scholars have taken mountain sites of cult for granted; indeed, their understanding that cultic and cultural systems are primarily grounded in specific sites is shared by most scholars of history, if not by the Japanese population at large. When this notion is not critically analysed, however, and when it is coupled with the equally shared premise that sacred mountains are extremely ancient and self-­evident phenomena, students of Shugendō are prevented from problematizing space and from explaining how and why sites of cult became the object of elaborate cults of sites, or the object of so many conflicts. In contradistinction to the position outlined above and espoused by the majority of interpreters of Shugendō, it may be argued that the generally accepted but unexamined claim that mountains were sacred to begin with is ideologically biased, in that it privileges supposedly native conceptions while positing an ontological argument to the effect that sacredness was “always already there.”10

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This claim has no plausibility as an explanation for the phenomena investigated in the following study, for it appears to be the grandchild of early-­modern nativist views and of modern totalizing trends informed by nationalistic ideology. Alternative attempts to define the sacred character of Japanese mountains by describing exotic practices or linking them to concepts of the otherworlds have equally failed, in that they lack comprehensiveness or historical depth.11 In a similar vein, the classical or paradigmatic view of sacred space held in the past by many Western historians of religions has tended to obfuscate the concept, in overloading it with metaphysical properties while emptying it of its historical and locale-­specific features, and this academic trend may have been instrumental in preventing a detailed analysis of the ways in which some Japanese constructed, interpreted, and contested both the space of their existence and those apparently special cases of sites to which the term “sacred” has been affixed uncritically.12 The following study attempts to remedy this presumed inadequacy by positing “space,” and the yamabushi’s understanding and construction of it, as one of its central problems. In undertaking to illuminate both the temporal and spatial components of Shugendō’s world, it borrows from both history and geography, looking for elements of a geohistorical synthesis that might yield more distinctive features of that world’s spatial and social character, and it must therefore be limited to a given region. To resist any totalizing wish, Shugendō will not be treated here as a single phenomenon thought to have remained the same throughout Japan’s history and space, but as a set of specific modalities of the relations of a given population to its geographical and historical conditions. The region proposed for consideration is located in the northeastern part of Kyushu Island and consists of three major sites of cult discussed below in relation to each other: the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, Mount Hiko, and the Kunisaki Peninsula.13 Five reasons for this choice may be offered here. First, Mount Hiko’s summits and those of the Kunisaki Peninsula are separated by only fifty kilometers and share profound ties with the original Hachiman site of cult that is nested between them in Usa. Geographical proximity notwithstanding, the inhabitants of these three neighboring regions elaborated remarkably different habits of thought and practice over time and, as we will see, the experience of space the yamabushi constructed in each case was related—only in part but specifically—to their perception and interpretation of the geographical and morphological features of their surroundings, and to the nature of their rituals. Second, the regions under consideration are ideally suited for the study of the historical appropriation, assimilation, and transformation of non-Buddhist cults by Buddhist systems of

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thought and practice: the Hachiman cult is Japan’s foremost and oldest combinatory cult, and neither Mount Hiko’s nor the Kunisaki Peninsula’s cults were ever independent from it prior to 1868—when the great divide between Shinto and Buddhism was institutionalized. It may sound strange to mention in the same breath Shugendō and the Hachiman cult. However, they were tightly associated in Kyushu, in their origins as well as during their long history: all historical sources at our disposal mention them together, and this association needs elucidation. Third, in the late sixteenth century Mount Hiko was home to Akyūbō Sokuden, a yamabushi whose works became the backbone of Shugendō’s unified doctrine and ritual procedures during the early modern period (1615– 1868). Fourth, the post-Meiji fate of these three closely related sites of cult was strikingly different, and the reasons for this difference need elucidation and have some bearing on the nature of this study. Finally, the Hachiman cult was an oracular and territorial cult sponsored by the imperial lineage, by courtiers of the Nara (710–84) and Heian (794–1185) periods, as well as by warlords of the Kamakura (1185–1333) and Muromachi (1333–1570) periods. This cult’s spatial and other properties will in some significant ways assist in outlining the parameters of concepts of territoriality that were operative during much of Japanese history, in the sense that they sustained the production of a number of ideological propositions, ritual practices, political decisions and acts, and conflicts. The Hachiman cult, indeed, spread far and wide: in 1992 the National Office of Shrines (Jinja Honchō) listed 79,165 Shinto shrines; of these, about 46,000 are dedicated to Hachiman, while an untold number of Inari shrines still remains to be accounted for.14 If nearly half of the Shinto shrines of Japan are dedicated to Hachiman, this deity’s cult needs serious attention. This study will have reached one of its goals if it enhances our understanding of the phenomenon while it does away with the common but erroneous and oversimplistic view that “Hachiman is the Shinto God of War.” Esoteric Buddhisms formed the ritual and philosophical system undergirding much of Shugendō’s formulation, but they were not merely a set of doctrinal statements and ritual practices favored by the yamabushi; they also included epistemological configurations that sustained a domain of representation through the agency of particular semiotic techniques and rules, as well as a large number of institutions. Parts of the following discussion are attempts to identify some of these rules, to suggest how they were applied to the construction and interpretation of social and other types of space, and to thereby posit some of the ways in which cultural identity and action were shaped on a local level. From a semiological perspective, it may already be advanced that mountains were

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Mountain Mandalas

treated by the yamabushi who resided there as signs to be deciphered and forming some sort of “natural text” from which a type of wisdom deemed necessary to salvation might be extracted. These signs, however, were also inscribed within the slow rhetorical processes of emulation between Buddhist and non-Buddhist representations and practices, and within the economic context of relations between institutionalized sites of cult and ever-­changing governmental policies. Mountains were thus covered, layer upon layer, by a number of texts, of which the yamabushi and others provided different readings. Conceived of as a set of signs, space became the locus for conflicts of interpretation. And because it was the object of appropriation (both subjective and objective), space also became the object of conflicts between the various institutions and people that laid claim to its interpretations and ownership.

Kyushu Island: an ignored world Japanese scholars emphasize time and again that Shugendō evolved in three geographical areas: first, the mountain ranges between Yoshino and Kumano in central Honshu (south of Kyoto and Nara, in the Kii Peninsula); second, Mount Hiko in Kyushu Island; and third, the mountains of Dewa (Haguro, Gassan, and Yudono) in northwest Honshu. Third in size among Japan’s four main islands, Kyushu was said in the early modern period (1600–1868) to contain some 120 “sacred mountains” (reizan), the majority of which were objects of Shugendō cults. Mount Hiko was the second largest among those and, arguably, the most distinctive.15 One might be tempted to study this mountain alone, for its presence on the Japanese cultic and cultural landscape is indeed compelling. Should one do so, however, it would soon become evident that the world of Mount Hiko cannot be understood separately from the Hachiman cult’s main shrines, which stand in the town of Usa, forty-­two kilometers east of Mount Hiko’s summit. Usa itself is located on a narrow alluvial plain extending between the towns of Nakatsu and Bungo-Takada, along the northeastern coast of Kyushu facing the Suō Bay and the Inland Sea. Extensive archaeological investigations have evidenced the fact that Usa was a regional center for very long, but came to be inhabited as early as the fourth century of the common era by a majority of immigrants from Korea, and that it was also the site of cults that gained in size, wealth, and notoriety soon after the recognition of Buddhism by the imperial court in the sixth century.16 A cult dedicated to the Buddha of the Future (the Bodhisattva Maitreya) was conducted not only in the Buddhist temples erected

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Map 2  Kyushu Island

in the eighth century on the compounds of the Usa sites of cult, but also on Mount Hiko, that came to be regarded as the site where Maitreya would manifest itself in the world and institute a new golden age.17 This cultic similarity could not have evolved by chance, and although the creeds dedicated to the Buddha

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Mountain Mandalas

of the Future lost their centrality in both sites of cult around the thirteenth century, a cursory look at the representations advanced by Mount Hiko’s Shugendō practitioners and the Hachiman cult’s proponents makes it very plain that engaging in the study of either site of cult alone would lead one to misconstrue the reality of both sites as well as that of Shugendō and of Japan’s cultic history at large. Looking around from the summit of Mount Omoto (Hachiman’s mountain cultic site, located directly south of the Usa Hachiman Shrine), Mount Hiko’s rounded silhouette dominates the western landmass, while the Kunisaki Peninsula’s ancient volcanic domes and deeply eroded valleys display their regular arrangement on the eastern horizon. The Kunisaki Peninsula must also be taken into account, because its summits are located a mere twenty kilometers east of Usa, and because it formed a central element of the Hachiman cult in Kyushu and developed tight contacts with the world of Mount Hiko, from which it nonetheless differed in substantial ways—particularly in the symbolic structuring of its social spaces in relation to the perception of its physical morphology. The Kunisaki Peninsula too was as if transubstantiated into a three-­dimensional mandala. Having mentioned some of Mount Hiko’s connections with the Usa Hachiman cult and the Kunisaki Peninsula, an important caveat must be added: the term “Mount Hiko” is almost a misnomer because its constitution as a Shugendō cultic center involved at least two other radically different sites of cult, and because Hiko Shugendō, as it is sometimes called, included ritual peregrinations along two mountain ranges extending north from Mount Hiko to Mount Fukuchi (south of Kokura), and northwest to Mount Hōman (east of Dazaifu), as well as doctrines and practices that were not native to the region.18 In other words, a focus restricted to Mount Hiko, or any other sacred mountain for that matter, would prevent one from apprehending regional aspects of Shugendō prior to 1868. As will be shown shortly the same is true of the Hachiman cult, the depth and complexity of which were grounded in the very multiplicity of its sites. The institutions of Mount Hiko and Usa culled over time a large number of estates and organized numerous associations of lay followers, so that their combined influences reached far, wide, and deep, and left indelible traces on the social, economic, and political history of Kyushu Island and beyond. Accordingly, the terms “Mount Hiko,”“Hiko Shugendō,” “Hachiman cult,” and “Kunisaki Peninsula cults” will be used in this study to refer to broad geographical areas and to lengthy historical processes often separated by sharp breaks, as well as to distinct communities whose members engaged in no-­ less varied ritual practices and expressed a medley of heterogeneous views while they were strongly aware of their neighbors. The yamabushi used a predominantly

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Buddhist vocabulary to express their views. As we will see, however, it would be misleading to call them “Buddhist” simply because their epistemology and favored terminology were derived from Esoteric Buddhisms. In a similar vein, they often behaved in a manner that today might qualify as belonging to the world of “Shinto,” but it would also be wrong to use this qualification, and it would be even more misleading to call Hachiman a Shinto cult (even though that is what it is today).19 In an attempt to bypass the too-­often discarded quandaries caused by modern categories that are the offspring of the Meiji Cultural Revolution (1868), one might be tempted to speak of syncretism or of a coalescence of Shinto, Buddhist, and other factors. But these terms too would be inappropriate, for they invite one to reify the world of the communities under consideration and to imagine that, similar over time, that world achieved such closure that we might be entitled to give of it a singular, one-­dimensional definition. On the level of historical documents the elements from various narratives that were assimilated or produced at specific points in history by Hiko Shugendō, the Usa Hachiman cult, and the Kunisaki Peninsula cults, were neither static nor independent from each other. Nor should they be separated from the social milieu that produced, assimilated, and transformed them. They were combined with each other, but not just because they happened to be produced by neighbors. As will be shown in due coure, these elements were not unlike the mountain temples’ and shrines’ residents, who were engaged in an agonistic relation that has never been pointed out.20 While a reconstruction of the yamabushi’s conceptions and practices of space are the main agenda of this brief study, the conflicts that produced, animated, and finally tried to annihilate these conceptions and practices will also be taken into consideration, for the northern part of Kyushu Island witnessed conflicts substantially different from those seen in other major Shugendō areas. Indeed, few Japanese regions are richer in historical complexity than Kyushu Island, of which it is tempting to say that its geographical position and morphological as well as geological characteristics have dominated its history.21 Separated from Korea by the narrow Tsushima Straits, Kyushu has long been Japan’s first point of contact with the rest of the world. Setting prehistory aside for the moment, in the time span that separates the eighth-­century compilations of myths from the recent destruction of Nagasaki by a nuclear bomb, Kyushu Island has been the locale of historical processes and events ranging from natural and human-­made disasters to natural wonders and human creativity. To mention but a few conspicuous breaks in its history, one may recall that the centrally located imperial government of the Japanese isles viewed its own geographical

10

Mountain Mandalas

origins in southern Kyushu: the myths contained in Kojiki (712) and Nihon Shoki (720) report that Mount Takachiho is the site onto which Japan’s first ruler is said to have made landfall. The Chinese visited the island around 240 CE, leaving an enigmatic document that is the source of academic debates that have been raging for generations because they concern the geopolitical origins of imperial Japan. The document in question, Wei-­chih, mentions a country called Yamatö and headed by a female ruler (Pimiha, Queen of the Wa), but it gives directions to it that are so murky that some scholars locate Yamato in Northern Kyushu, while others locate it in Yamato Province hundreds of kilometers away, or near the southernmost tip of Kyushu Island.22 Recent scholarship suggests that the northeastern Kyushu view may be the most adequate, and this should place Usa under a distinctive light.23 Buddhist proselytizers who followed the Silk Road passed through Kyushu Island on their way to Nara, and the majority of Japanese monks stopped there on their way to and from China and Korea. The Mongols attempted to invade Kyushu in the thirteenth century, while the first Zen temples were being built there. The Portuguese landed in Tanegashima Island in 1543 and introduced guns there, and Francis Xavier landed in Kagoshima in 1549 and subsequently converted parts of Kyushu’s population, including parts of the Kunisaki Peninsula, to Christianity. Chinese merchants were in prolonged contact with Kyushu throughout the Edo period, while the Dutch traded at Deshima (in Nagasaki) and introduced much “Western Learning” (Rangaku). It may be advanced that such were some conditions for the appearance, in Kunisaki Peninsula, of the astoundingly abstruse philosophy of Miura Baien (1723–89), whose house can still be seen on the slopes of one of the valleys leading up to the twin summits of Kunisaki. Of primary importance in the present context, however, is that the northern shores of Kyushu eventually harbored the Munakata, Sumiyoshi, and Hachiman cults, which were “borrowed” between the eighth and tenth centuries by the political centers of Nara and Kyoto and became essential components of Japan’s imperial mythology and cultic system.24 This cultic system seems to have evolved between the seventh and the tenth century, at which time it was formally organized.25 It consisted of a number of sanctuaries dedicated to various tutelary and ancestral entities called kami, to which the imperial government made requests for rituals and granted offerings and other means of economic support. A list dated 966 contains sixteen of the twenty-­two sites of cult that eventually formed the core of this cultic system.26 All located in Kyoto and neighboring provinces (the Kansai area), these shrines were traditionally broken down into three groups to which different amounts

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of offerings were made, but it is possible to classify them just on the basis of their geographical location, in which case three regions appear with undeniable clarity. First, the Yamato region, where several pre-­eighth century “capitals” and the Chinese-­style capital of Heijōkyō (Nara, 710–84) were located; second, the adjacent Kyoto area, site of the imperial capital between 794 and 1868; and finally, Kyushu Island, whose main shrines had been duplicated in this central region. The duplication in Yamato and Kyoto of shrines originally located in Kyushu suggests the strategic importance of that island to the imperial government, and is an indicator of the close relation of these shrines to the mythology of the imperial house. Many of these shrines came to be associated with Buddhist temples erected in their proximity, however, and the system of combined shrines and temples went on to form an intricate and powerful tool for the legitimacy of the imperial lineage and its satellite familial power blocks. Viewed from a historical/geographical/political perspective, this cultic system as a whole represents the formative stages of a politically and ritually codified territorial claim on the part of the imperial court, at the same time it represents emerging relations between native and imported cultic sytems and institutions. Kyushu itself is separated from Honshu, the main island of the Japanese archipelago, by the narrow Strait of Shimonoseki, through which the mighty tides linking the Japan Sea to the Inland Sea and the Pacific Ocean move back and forth. This strait was difficult to pass because of sudden weather changes and fierce fog conditions caused by tides and currents. Being the main maritime corridor granting access from the west to the Yamato region, however, it was one of Japan’s most sensitive strategic locations, which may explain why the sites of the imperial government’s leading territorial and maritime cults were located on either side of it. The Munakata cult was established on Kyushu’s northern shore facing the Korean Peninsula, and on islands between Kyushu and Tsushima (as well as on Mount Hiko); the Hakozaki and Sumiyoshi Hachiman cults were located in what is today Fukuoka on the same shore and in Toyura on Honshu’s westernmost shore. Last but not least, the Hachiman cult’s original institutions were situated in Usa, near the Inland Sea but facing south. The Sumiyoshi, Munakata, Hiko, Usa, and Kunisaki cults were closely associated under the umbrella of ritual protection of the imperial state’s claim to control the sea and the land, and it was under such conditions that the Hachiman cult eventually became a cultic phenomenon that every social group—emperors, courtiers, warlords, and commoners, Buddhist or not, sponsored or wished to control.

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The Hachiman cult’s nebulous origins The events surrounding the first mention of Buddhism in imperial documents provide a privileged access to a discussion of the Hachiman cult. It is reported in Nihon Shoki (compiled in 720), that in 552 the Korean Peninsula’s kingdom of Paekche presented a Buddhist statue and scriptures to the Yamato government that then ordered a member of the Soga house to carry out a private Buddhist cult in the Asuka region.27 The choice of the Soga house is understandable, for its distant ancestral house (the Kazuraki) and its own members had been in contact with the continent for some time, and the Soga helped devise policies concerning trade and international relations. Other leading houses opposed these policies at the time; among those, the Nakatomi and Mononobe houses, specializing in ritual and military affairs, resisted Buddhism as a way of thwarting the rise of the Soga house to political power. Nihon Shoki says that in 587 Emperor Yōmei fell ill and subsequently expressed his desire to convert to Buddhism, a decision that would have greatly aggravated the courtiers Mononobe no Moriya (?–587) and Nakatomi no Katsumi (?–587). Soga no Umako (?–626), however, invited to court an unnamed “Buddhist master” from Kyushu’s Usa region (less precisely, from Toyokuni, that is, Buzen Province), to minister to the dying emperor.28 At this point the Soga house’s opposition to the Nakatomi and Mononobe houses took on a military character, and the Soga, together with Imperial Prince Shōtoku (574–622), went on to defeat the factions opposing Buddhism. In 594 the government issued a decree stating that it would support the development of Buddhism, and the Soga house sponsored Korean immigrant artisans and in 596 built what is regarded as Japan’s oldest Buddhist temple: the Asukadera, in the southern part of the Yamato Basin. After the death of Shōtoku Taishi in 622, however, the Soga house seems to have manifested ambitions to the imperial throne, and Imperial Prince Naka no Ōe (626–71), assisted by his advisor Nakatomi no Kamatari (614–69), annihilated the Soga house in 645 and promulgated the Taika Reform, which introduced a form of government inspired by Chinese codes. This reform signaled the imperial court’s suddenly conscious emulation of China, and it heralded many social changes. Nakatomi no Kamatari was one of its architects, and as a reward the emperor granted him the name “Fujiwara” in 669, a name under which his descendants went on to form a powerful house that governed Japan in the name of the emperor for several centuries. As will be shown in time, the Fujiwara house evolved complex relations with the Hachiman cult and Kyushu Island.

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The records of the time do not give Kyushu the deliberate consideration one might expect, but the island must have been of substantial significance if only because Buddhism was taken through it on its way to Yamato, because there were many immigrants in its northern regions at the time, and because the ancient inhabitants of the island included the immigrant Soga, Mononobe, Hata, and Nakatomi houses. One wishes, for example, that more details had been given in official records concerning the unnamed “Buddhist master” of the Toyokuni region mentioned earlier, but this issue remains unsolved. For the time being let us simply undermine the historical fallacy, evident in most histories of Japan, of privileging Yamato’s centrality while passing Kyushu Island in silence, thus relegating it to a peripheral status. However legendary the events briefly recounted above may have been, they were regarded in Kyushu as historical truth, and were reiterated in many documents for a good thousand years. Kyushu’s early though begrudged importance to the imperial government is made obvious by the fact that the Yamato court established the city of Dazaifu there, which became the island’s political center and was later called “western capital” in counterpoint to Kyoto.29 The term Dazai, which Aston translates as “viceroy,” appears in connection with Tsukushi (the old name for Kyushu) in Nihon Shoki in a record that is dated 609.30 The governor of Dazaifu in 649 was Hyūga no Omi (Soga no Himuka, also styled Musashi), a surviving member of the pro-Buddhist Soga house that had specialized in contacts with the “Three Kingdoms” of the Korean Peninsula (Silla, Paekche, and Koguryŏ), and China. The walled city of Dazaifu quickly became a military, diplomatic, and cultural center as contacts with the continent intensified during the eighth century. In accordance with ritual and geomantic principles stipulating that noxious influences threatened cities from the northeastern direction, and that the construction of shrines or temples in that corner of residences or cities would be an appropriate palliative, a shrine was erected in 664 in the northeast corner of Dazaifu on Mount Mikasa, located on the slopes of Mount Hōman. Mount Mikasa was then renamed Kamado, and a Buddhist temple was erected on the grounds of the shrine: that is the Hōman “mountain temple” (yamadera), about which more will be said later because of its close association with Mount Hiko. Furthermore, in 670 Emperor Tenji ordered that a government-­sponsored Buddhist temple, the Kanzeonji, be erected in Dazaifu at the foot of Mount Hōman. Completed in 745 by the infamous Hossō monk Genbō (?–746), the Kanzeonji became a stopping point for foreign emissaries and for the majority of Japanese monks on their way to China or the Korean Peninsula.31 Dazaifu itself was completed in 701, when the Taihō Codes were promulgated and shortly after

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Map 3  North-­east Kyushu

the names of some Kyushu provinces, such as Chikuzen and Buzen, appeared in official records. In other words, the Taika (645) and Taihō (701) promulgations of Chinese-­ inspired Codes marked the advent of a new political geography, which symbolized the Yamato imperial court’s will to control ever larger parts of the Japanese isles and submit their diverse populations to its rule, in the context of highly problematic relations with the continent. The court’s will did not go unchallenged, however, particularly in Kyushu. Between 708 and 720, for instance, the government had to face uprisings by the Kumaso and Hayato— people about whom almost nothing is known but who are presumed to have been early inhabitants of Kyushu. In 720 the Yamato government and various local agencies quelled these uprisings, using a long-­remembered violence that became the object of the Usa Hachiman cult’s atonement ritual, the “Assembly of Release of Living Beings” (hōjō-­e).32 The government of Dazaifu alone may not have been able to quash these uprisings, and it may have enlisted the assistance of regional leaders of Usa, who would have supported the central government’s policies. This hypothetical rendition of assistance is not documented in Shoku Nihongi (797), the main historical source for the period, but it was invoked later by the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex as a major claim to recognition by the court, and it was repeated time and again in the documents relating the history of the Hiko, Usa, and Kunisaki mountain cults. Be that as it may, in 761 the Kanzeonji Temple of Dazaifu became western Japan’s government-­sponsored platform of ordination for Buddhist monks and nuns, and the seventh and

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eighth centuries saw the erection of a fairly large number of Buddhist temples in the northern part of Kyushu, predominantly so in the Usa area.

Usa: from prehistoric village to cultic city Usa is unique in Kyushu if only because some of the island’s oldest funeral tumuli (kofun) of the “key-­hole” type are located there. Dating back to the third and fourth centuries CE, these tumuli are said to have been erected over the tombs of the region’s kuni no miyatsuko, local chieftains some scholars do not hesitate to refer to by the name Usa. This name appears in Nihon Shoki in the narrative of the conquest of the Japanese archipelago by the Prince of Iware. In this narrative the prince is said to have left Mount Takachiho in the southern reaches of Kyushu, whence he would have engaged in the pacification of the western parts of the archipelago: Proceeding on their voyage, they arrived at Usa in the Land of Tsukushi [Kyushu]. At this time there appeared the ancestors of the Kuni-­tsu-ko [local chieftains] of Usa, named Usa-­tsu-hiko and Usa-­tsu-hime. They built a palace raised on one pillar on the banks of the River Usa, and offered them a banquet. Then, by imperial command, Usa-­tsu-hime was given in marriage to the Emperor’s attendant minister Ama no tane no Mikoto. Now Ama no tane no Mikoto was the remote ancestor of the Nakatomi Uji.33

Nihon Shoki, the record of myths and historical chronicles from which this passage is quoted, was compiled in 720, when Kyushu was of unequalled importance and concern to the court because of problematic relations between what we today call Japan, Korea, and China. The event narrated above may therefore be no more than a mere reflection of that importance, although it may also refer to an actual memory of occurrences that may have taken place several centuries earlier, which is impossible to prove. We must underline, however, the marriage of the woman named Usa-­tsu-hime to Ama no tane no Mikoto, who is described as a distant ancestor of the Nakatomi house. By the eighth century, the Nakatomi were well established as one of the leading sacerdotal lineages of the emerging imperial cultic system in Yamato. Its members specialized in scapulimancy (a technique of divination using the shoulder blades of deer), and it is worth recalling that Kamatari, the human ancestor of the Fujiwara house, was born in the Nakatomi house—which is said to have opposed Buddhism at the time of its inception. For their part, the sacerdotal officiants of the Usa region specialized in oracular pronouncements, from at least the eighth

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Mountain Mandalas

century onward.34 The connection proposed by the compilers of Nihon Shoki between the Usa oracles and the Nakatomi diviners smacks of fabrication and, in my view, reinforces the probability that the mention of an Usa house (uji) in Nihon Shoki does not refer to Prince of Iware’s time, but to a local state of affairs that might have been contemporaneous with the compilation of the chronicle, or that might have existed shortly before that time. Nagatomi Hisae has gone so far as to suggest that the Prince of Iware started his conquest, not from Mount Takachiho in Hyūga Province, but from the Usa region—a suggestion that would reinforce some views according to which northern Kyushu was the site of an ancient kingdom that has been completely forgotten, or the traces of which were erased by the emergence of Yamato power.35 Usa’s funeral tumuli of the third and fourth century have yielded a number of artifacts among which are bronze bells, jade jewelry, and mirrors of Korean and Chinese manufacture, indicating that there were quite a few inhabitants of Korean and Chinese origins in the region. Whoever the people living there may have been, they are believed to have engaged in cultic behavior with regard to megaliths and to the sea, and because such elements can still be seen in today’s cults of the region in one shape or another, scholars have assumed that they form the original, native layer of the Hachiman cult. Little can be said with any certainty on the topic, however, because the oldest extant documents do not mention such cults. The first mention of Hachiman in relation to litholatry occurs in a document dated 815 and it is only with time that litholatry became an increasingly central feature of the Usa Hachiman constellation of cults, although it had long been present in the Munakata cults and appears to have been imported from the Korean Peninsula.36 In other words, the farther away from the origins, the more details are available and the less they should be relied upon, although some scholars do not hesitate to use them in an effort to retrieve primitive aspects of the Hachiman cult in Usa. The two graphs that are today pronounced “Hachiman” appear in Shoku Nihongi in an entry for the year 737.37 In a subsequent entry, for the year 749, the same document suggests that these graphs were read “Yahata,” since they appear there as parts of a longer name that should probably be read “Hirohata no Yahata Ōkami.”38 Nihon Ryōiki (ca. 820) supports this reading, for it mentions a “Yahata Daijin[gū]ji of Usa in Buzen Province,” which is no doubt a reference to what became the Usa Hachiman shrine-­temple complex.39 Incidentally, the oldest extant document proposing the reading “Hachiman” is Iroha Jiruishō, dated 1144, and it therefore seems probable that during the Heian period the preferred reading of the two graphs meaning “eight banners” was Yahata or Yawata, and

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that it was changed to Hachiman toward the end of the Heian period, although the older readings “Yahata” and “Yawata” were not abandoned for some time therafter. As to the identity and origins of the entity named Yahata or Hachiman, however, they are highly problematic and are still objects of impassioned scholarly attention. Nakano Hatayoshi, the main scholar of the Hachiman cult’s history, believes that when the centralizing and unifying power of the Yamato court became manifest in Kyushu around the middle of the seventh century, the local leaders of Usa had already lost their grip over the region’s maritime communities allied with earlier courts, and that they were replaced by Ōmiwa ritualists who would have come to Kyushu from Yamato in the late sixth century.40 These newcomers would have clashed with older local ritualists going by the name Karashima, who appear to have been Korean immigrants who fell under the governance of the Hata immigrants of northern Kyushu, and who would have dedicated a cult to several “kami” enshrined on Mount Kawara (directly north of Mount Hiko). In 592, says Nakano, the competition between these two groups would have reached an impasse, but the Ōmiwa newcomers somehow established their dominance over the Karashima house. They then erected the Takai Shrine in Usa to symbolize their dominance, and imposed onto the Karashima a cult they dedicated to King Homuda (the fifteenth ruler, “Emperor” Ōjin). Nakano argues that this event did take place in 592, even though the source he uses dates back to 815, and even though he fails to demonstrate how the Ōmiwa ritualists would have come to carry on a cult dedicated to King Homuda, or would have decided to go to Kyushu.41 The surname Usa (re)surfaces in 721 when Hōren, a Buddhist master of the region, achieved such renown that the central government gave his relatives the right to bear the surname, accompanied by the rank-­title kimi.42 If it is reasonable to assume that the Usa house also specialized in cults in the region because of the presumed antiquity of its residence there, one has to wonder whether the Ōmiwa would have come into problematic contact with the Usa house as well; incidentally, the Usa and Karashima houses both held high titles (kimi and suguri, respectively), while the Ōmiwa did not. There is nothing in the extant documents, however, that might indicate what relationship may have existed between these houses before the eighth century, and this problem seems insurmountable in view of the fact that subsequent documents, written to emphasize the prestige of the Ōga (Ōmiwa) house, claim that “Hachiman” originally manifested itself to a certain Ōga no Higi (and not to a member of the Usa house).43 Furthermore, the documents authored by members of the Usa house state that “Hachiman” manifested itself to a certain Usa no Ikemori and to Ōga no Higi, but in Misumi,

18

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not Usa. As for the Karashima house, it proposes that “Hachiman” first manifested itself to a woman named Karashima no suguri Otome.44 To reiterate in simplified form the position long defended by Nakano, documents of the early ninth century have led him to speculate that Ōga no Higi, presumably a sixth-­century sacerdotal officiant of the Ōmiwa Shrine and hailing from the Uda district of Yamato Province, was responsible for taking to Kyushu various myths and legends related to King Homuda. These myths would have been imposed then by this Ōga no Higi onto older local deities that, before that time, had been the object of a cult conducted by the Karashima ritualists. One should remark at this stage, however, that the origins of the Hachiman cult have been the object of excessive speculation, in the sense that the extant documents do not provide incontrovertible proof for what has been advanced by scholars whose agenda was, or still is, to project an illusionary linearity over an imperial cult’s fractional history, or to smooth over some of the disjunctions which the nascent imperial system and Buddhism may have inflicted upon regional cults in the eighth century. It is more appropriate to keep an eye open for breaks, and in this respect we should underscore the possibility that, whatever the cults performed in the Usa region “from time immemorial” may have been, they received in the first half of the eighth century radically new forms that were related to the Yamato court’s territorial aspirations as well as to the Usa leaders’ political circumstances and needs. These needs appear to have been met through two interrelated processes: the acceptance and systematic development of Buddhist cults in the region, and the transformation (or creation) of the “Hachiman” entities, their supporting myths, and their cults. The Yamato court needed to foster political alliances with the regional leaders of northern Kyushu in the context of increased and problematic contacts with the continent, and in the context of its application of Chinese-­inspired legal codes in order to claim governance over the Japanese isles, a governance which the native Kumaso and Hayato “tribes” of Kyushu are said to have opposed in the first decades of the eighth century. On the other hand, the Usa region’s rulers may have realized that their survival in the face of the sweeping legal, political, and economic changes wrought by these codes depended on their ability to retain a strong regional identity while developing a coalition with the irresistible administrative, military, and economic power of Yamato, but in such manner that Usa might exercise some control over this coalition. Together with the politics surrounding the development of court-­sponsored Buddhism at the time, these factors appear to have dominated the sudden elaboration of the Hachiman cult and its equally sudden acceptance by the Yamato court in the eighth century. The identity of “Hachiman” before the beginning of the ninth century thus poses vexing problems for all historians who

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have attempted to deal with northern Kyushu, but this is not uncommon in local cults that were appropriated by the court, in that they were often radically changed to avoid their being at a variance with the newly compiled mythology or with the central cultic institutions that were created precisely at that time in Yamato. Indeed, even though it is reasonably clear that there were sites of cult in the Usa region before the eighth century, available sources say nothing that would enable us to say what these cults were, and it is not before the eighth century that official records mention the name Yahata. Moreover, not a single document purporting to provide evidence concerning the origins of the Usa Sanctuary or the core identity of the deities enshrined therein appears before the early ninth century. The two graphs pronounced Yahata or Yawata during the Nara and Heian periods, and today pronounced Hachiman, are not found in either Kojiki or Nihon Shoki; as we have seen a moment ago, they appear in Shoku Nihongi. This occurs in an entry for the year 737, following the recording of divergent opinions concerning how the court should respond to a “break of customary protocol caused by [the Kingdom of Silla’s] disregard for an imperial messenger’s directions”: Charged with the mission to present offerings and to report Silla’s break of protocol, messengers were dispatched to the sanctuary [jingū] of Ise, to the shrine [yashiro] of Ōmiwa, to the shrine of Suminoe, to the two shrines of Yahata in Tsukushi [Kyushu], and to the mausoleum [miya] of Kashii.45

In other words, the court reported breaks of protocol in diplomacy to the two most important shrines of the Yamato imperial center (Ise and Ōmiwa), and to the three most important sanctuaries of northern Kyushu (Suminoe (Sumiyoshi), Usa, and Kashii). Leaving aside for a moment the problem raised by the terms referring to these different types of sanctuaries (jingū, yashiro, and miya), it is necessary to underline the closeness of these sites of cult to the imperial establishment and the fact that three of them are located in north Kyushu, which was at the forefront of international politics at the time. The identity of the “Yahata” entity mentioned in the document quoted above, however, is completely unclear prior to the Heian period, when Yahata came to be identified with the spirit of King Homuda (“Emperor” Ōjin). The oldest extant document proposing this identification is dated 815 (Kōnin 6); referred to as Ōga no Kiyomaro Gejō, it is contained in a court decree dated 821 and known as Kōnin Kanpu. It reads as follows: The Great Bodhisattva is the august spirit of Emperor Homuda. It first manifested itself under the reign [of Emperor Kinmei] on the summit of Mount Maki, situated in the Usa district of the land of Toyosaki. At that time, Kinmei 29 [568], Ōga no Higi built the Takaise Shrine, where he conducted a cult for many years.

20

Mountain Mandalas This shrine was later transferred to Ogura Hill near Hishigata [Pond], and shrine officiants were appointed.46

This passage states that Hachiman (“the Great Bodhisattva”) manifested itself in Usa a few years after the introduction of Buddhism to the Japanese court, and, pointedly, as a conformation of the departed king Homuda. The figure of King Homuda/Emperor Ōjin is of great consequence in the mythology compiled in Yamato, but it is enfolded in a shroud of legends of various geographical origins to such extent that it defies clear historical identification, and the present discussion will be limited to factors that are relevant to the purpose at hand. Both Kojiki (712) and Nihon Shoki (720) offer so extensive a treatment of Homuda and his “mother” Okinaga Tarashihime (Jingū Kōgō) that one may speak of an Okinaga Tarashihime cycle and of a Homuda cycle in mythology, two cycles many Japanese scholars have treated at length and from various perspectives. Of interest here, however, is the narrative according to which Okinaga Tarashihime’s husband, Tarashi Nakatsuhiko (“Emperor” Chūai), is supposed to have received an oracle ordering him to conquer the Three Kingdoms of the Korean Peninsula.47 Tarashi Nakatsuhiko did not accept the oracle as genuine and suddenly died, at which point his consort took it upon herself to raise an army, and crossed the Tsushima Straits to the Korean peninsula, which she conquered swiftly. As she was completing this conquest she would have felt a pressing need to give birth to the child she was carrying, and hastily returned to the Japanese isles. Landing in Kyushu she gave birth to a son, Homuda, who under the imperial name Ōjin would have gone eastward to pacify the western half of the Japanese archipelago.48 Several scholars have suggested that the conquest of the Korean Peninsula by Okinaga Tarashihime never occurred. In fact, they have proposed the opposite; namely, that Homuda was really a foreigner (a Puyŏ warrior of continental origins) who would have conquered the Korean Peninsula and western “Japan” in 369 CE.49 Should these scholars be right, Yahata (that is, Hachiman as Homuda’s spirit) would be the deified form of a nonJapanese entity. It is tempting to subscribe to these views and thus throw a specific light on the cult, a light in which Hachiman would be carved out not only as the deified conformation of King Homuda, but also as the reversed image of historical events, an image that was then memorialized by a ruling group wishing to project a much longer history on Japanese ground than it actually had, or wishing to portray itself as superior to the continent. Be that as it may, this identification of Yahata as the deified form of Homuda surfaces in a historical source dated 815, and one cannot rule out the possibility (not to say the probability) that the

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purpose of this identification may have been to promote a direct imperial connection between provincial Usa and the imperial capital. Recitals concerning Okinaga Tarashihime (Homuda’s “mother”), which were circulating at the time in the Kinai area, the Inland Sea, and Kyushu, were subsequently transformed and added to this new identity, and Okinaga Tarashihime became the object of a cult at Usa in 823.50 Nakano Hatayoshi and several other scholars make a distinction between Jingū Kōgō-­related recitals, Okinaga Tarashihime-­related recitals, Homuda-­related recitals, and the third kami worshipped at Usa, a certain Himegami which Nakano views as an ancient Kyushu deity, perhaps ancestral to the Usa house. It seems reasonable at the present juncture to propose that these recitals were re-­aligned and admixed to fit those found in Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, that an ensuing narrative coherence slowly emerged in Kyushu and the Kinai area, and that the 815 document was the earliest written manifestation of that coherence. The identification of Yahata with the deified spirit of King Homuda may have occurred in Kyushu, but only after the Korean Peninsula was unified in the eighth century by Silla, and at a time the relations between Silla and Yamato were extremely tense and when warfare seemed inevitable. The imperial territory may have been gained through warfare, indeed, but it was maintained and legitimated by narratives such as the Okinaga Tarashihime and Homuda legends, which were subsequently “enshrined” in sites of cult that are all located in the western half of the archipelago. The recitals related to Okinaga Tarashihime apparently originated among members of the Okinaga house in which both Emperor Yomei (r. 629–41) and Empress Kōgyoku (r. 641– 50) were born, and they can therefore be regarded as ancestral narratives geared at enhancing the status of that house.51 The Homuda cycle’s origins are much more difficult to pinpoint, except for the narrative concerning the coming-­ of-age rite de passage of Prince Homuda-­wake (later King Homuda, that is, “Emperor” Ōjin), which took place at the Kehi Shrine near Tsunoga (today called Tsuruga). Tsunoga is located between the Ōmi region that formed the power base of King Wohodo’s paternal line, and the Echizen region, which formed the power base of the same emperor’s maternal line. A fifth-­generation descendant of King Homuda’s, King Wohodo (“Emperor” Keitai) is said in Nihon Shoki to have ruled between 450 and 531. The Okinaga Tarashihime recitals were then transmitted by seafaring people and sacerdotal groups to Lake Biwa and to the Inland Sea (Harima Province and its Kibi region in particular) and to northern Kyushu (Chikuzen Province in particular). These geographical origins are to be related to the development of territorial control on the part of the imperial

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house, for all the events described in these myths are said to have taken place along the major maritime routes of the western half of the Japanese isles. These factors suggest that the association (or overlay) of the entities enshrined in Usa with the deified figures of Homuda and his “mother” meant that a territory was being established under imperial will, and that this association empowered the Usa area’s separate cults to coalesce and evolve into a single imperial cult, which continued nonetheless to carry some erstwhile, local elements. As a further and perhaps unanticipated consequence of this association or overlay, the mythological records that had been gathered around the country and were compiled in Yamato in 712 and 720 gained a concrete appearance in the form of shrines, which became monumental documents in the sense that their meaning was, and still is, calling for interpretation. It is necessary to remark that all past “explanations” of the origins of Hachiman privilege the centrality of Yamato, since they suggest that narratives were taken from the Yamato area in a westerly way along the Inland Sea, to finally settle in Kyushu, whereas Okinaga Tarashihime is reported to have conquered the Three Kingdoms of the Korean Peninsula with Kyushu as a starting place, and whereas her son Homuda pacified the western part of the Japanese isles, beginning in Kyushu (where he was born), and ending in Yamato (where he died).52 Should Gari Ledyard’s views on the matter be accepted, Okinaga Tarashihime was not King Homuda’s actual mother (she would have been assigned this role by the authors of Kojiki and Nihon Shoki), and the king in question would have been an invader who conquered parts of the Korean Peninsula before boarding a fleet that took his army to Japan. We would then have to suggest that the identification of Yahata as Homuda’s spirit might have been due to a survival of pro-Homuda memories in northern Kyushu— combined with a total lack of memory of the fact that Homuda was a foreigner. A short while after the eighth-­century compilations of the Kojiki record, the Nihon Shoki chronicle, the Shoku Nigongi chronicle, and the Fudoki local records, the imperial and courtly inhabitants of Heijōkyō (Nara) and Heiankyō (Kyoto) came to accept as true what these texts claimed was their history and, to borrow Paul Veyne’s felicitous turn of phrase, they thus went on to “believe in their myths.”53 It may be ventured, however, that anyone familiar with the lay of the land at the time would have found these myths difficult to believe, because absolutely nothing in them explains how or why the deified figure of King Homuda ended up, of all places, in Usa: Kojiki, Nihon Shoki, and Fudoki give many details about the Okinaga Tarashihime and Homuda cycles, but none of these texts mentions Usa as a site of cult, and no document of the time says that Homuda and his mother were given a cult there. Nothing in the myths and legends available

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today provides an indisputable geohistorical rationale for enshrining the deified figure of Homuda in Usa, while the ninth-­century documents of the site of cult merely state that an entity named “Yahata” manifested itself on the summit of Mount Maki, the mountain that was renamed Omoto by imperial decree some time later.54 Tantalizing though they may be, the question of why Usa was chosen over any of the geographical sites mentioned in the Okinaga Tarashihime and Homuda cycles of mythology, and the problem of why a cycle relating a putative conquest of Korea by a pregnant woman would have been taken to Kyushu to form the basis of Japan’s most anti-Korean and xenophobic imperial cult, must be left unresolved for the moment. The Ōga sacerdotal house’s tradition maintains that Yahata manifested itself on the summit of Mount Maki in Usa, to a swordsmith named Ōga no Higi who immediately erected a shrine he named Takai (or Takaise), of which he became the officiant. More often referred to as Mount Omoto, Mount Maki is still today regarded as the Usa Hachiman cult’s sacred mountain; its summit is the seat of three megaliths the tradition views as supernatural conformations of goshawks, the original theriomorphic emblem of Hachiman, and it became a site visited by yamabushi on regular occasions.55 According to Nakano, this Takai Shrine was moved in 716 from Mount Maki’s summit to the Oyamada Shrine (west of the present-­day site of the Usa Shrine), and was moved again in 725 from Oyamada to Ogura Hill, which is the current site of the Usa Hachiman Shrine and a hill on which there would have been an older shrine (Hokuto-­sha) dedicated to the Lord of the Polar Star, a feature which indicates the continental origins of some of the Usa cults. It is not clear what the new shrine was called, however, and the recipient of the oracle requesting the move is not identified either. Nakano writes that Ogura Hill appears to have been the stronghold of the Usa house at the time, and he suggests that the oracle may have been granted to a member of that house shortly after the Hayato uprisings of 720, when the enigmatic Buddhist figure named Hōren was active.56 What role the Usa community played in these Hayato uprisings is not known, since only Hachiman’s supernatural benevolence is what is remembered most often. Hōren may have been called upon to heal the wounds inflicted in the course of these uprisings, or he may have ministered to a local population that was afflicted with epidemics at a time when the government failed to provide the medical specialists the Taihō Codes had called for.57 It is also known that many people died in the famines that ravaged north Kyushu in the eighth century, and it is possible that the

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construction of Buddhist temples in the region was geared at rendering assistance to a population that was over-­burdened with taxes and corvées. A temple called Mirokuzen-­in was erected around that time in Hiashi, right next to Ogura Hill; it was dedicated to Miroku bosatsu (Maitreya, the Buddha of the Future), and Hōren is said to have been its first abbot. Hōren was to become a central figure in the evolution of the Hiko, Usa Hachiman, and Kunisaki cults, and his reputation for healing skills might be seen as a building block of the therapeutic activities of the yamabushi, who eventually saw in him one of their founding patriarchs and an incarnation of Hachiman. Very little is known about him, however, apart from what subsequent legends have to say; and next to nothing transpires about other monks who must have been active in the region at the time. In 732, this Mirokuzen-­in Temple (together, perhaps, with the Kokuzōji Temple) was transferred from Hiashi to the sprawling plain separating Ogura Hill from the Usa River, on the basis of the following oracle: “I hereby wish to be given a cult as the Buddha of the Future and as the Buddha of Medicine, in order to lead [to salvation] the peoples of future ages.”58 This Mirokuzen-­in was not the oldest Buddhist temple in the region, for archaeological investigations have revealed the existence of three late seventh century temples in the immediate vicinity of Usa. Among these, the Kokuzōji is apparently the oldest and excavations of what was a three-­storied pagoda have yielded a terra-­cotta plate engraved with the representation of a Buddha seated on a throne.59 While the layout of this temple is apparently similar to that of the Hōryūji Temple built in 607 in Yamato Province, the terra-­cotta plate (the only one of the kind ever found in Kyushu) is said to be remarkably similar to that found in the Minami Hokkeji Temple (Tsubosakadera) in the southern part of Nara Prefecture, a find that seems to bespeak of direct contacts between the northeast region of Kyushu and Yamato Province in the late seventh or early eighth century. Local tradition has it that the Kokuzōji Temple was created by Hōren, but this is impossible to verify because neither the Kokuzōji nor the two following temples appear in documents of the time. The Hōkyōji Temple and the Kyūzenji Temple (also known as Oguranoike haiji) were erected later than the Kokuzōji, but both seem to be older than the Usa Shrine’s Mirokuji Temple. Interestingly enough, while only seven Buddhist temples were erected before the end of the ninth century in Chikuzen Province, where Dazaifu and Hakata (Fukuoka) are located, thirteen were built during the same time period in Buzen Province, where Usa and Mount Hiko are situated. Indeed, the second largest concentration of Buddhist temples (after the Usa district) in Buzen Province at the time is found in the Miyako and Tagawa districts situated near the northern foot of Mount Hiko; rooftiles

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excavated in these sites were made in nine ovens found in the region by archaeologists and they display definite Korean stylistic features. These finds indicate that Buddhism was developing at a fast pace along the Onga River basin and along the northeastern coastal region of Kyushu in the eighth century, and show the presence of a significant and wealthy population that was in sustained contact with the Korean Peninsula and Yamato, probably because much of that population was of Korean origins. It was under these conditions that the Usa site of cult came to be mentioned in official documents in the eighth century. The first in the set of the three main shrines of Usa’s Ogura Hill was built, as we saw a few moments ago, in 725. A second shrine was erected on Ogura Hill either in 733 or 734; it was dedicated to Himegami, the second most important kami of what was to become the Hachiman triad. The identity of Himegami is even more mysterious than Hachiman’s, however, and it has been the object of speculation for centuries. Some scholars viewed it as an old local or foreign kami whose role and identity were eclipsed by Yahata as the deified form of King Homuda; some saw it as the ancestral kami of the Karashima sacerdotal lineage of Usa; others identified it as either Homuda’s aunt or his deified consort, while yet others conceived of it as Homuda’s daughter, as the deified form of the first oracular female officiant Usa-­tsu-hime, or as a unified conformation of the three female kami of Munakata.60 An attempt to follow the history of the identification of this kami in the various documents authored by sacerdotal houses and pre-­ modern as well as contemporary scholars is all that might be done to solve this important problem in the future. In 738 a Lecture Hall (kōdō) dedicated to the Buddha of the Future, and a “Golden Hall” (kondō) dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine were erected next to these two shrines, on the grounds of the Mirokuzen-­in created in 732. The temple was then renamed Mirokuji (Maitreya Temple),61 and it became the jingūji of the two Yahata shrines of Usa, which it immediately began to dominate. The Mirokuji became over time an extensive institution on a par with the largest Buddhist-­controlled shrine-­temple complexes ever constructed in Japan.62 The third of the three Usa Hachiman Shrines (hereafter referred to in the singular as the Usa Hachiman Shrine) was dedicated in 823 to Okinaga Tarashihime. This late date does not seem to have perturbed any historian of the cult even though it is of major import, since Okinaga Tarashihime, in her identification as King Homuda’s mother, is the central figure in the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki myths that underpin much of the Hachiman cult’s imperial dimension. It is impossible, however, to provide an explanation for this intriguing date, beyond what will be suggested below. Another set of three shrines was established between 810 and 824 to the west of Ogura Hill; called Lower

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Shrine (Gegū) and sometimes referred to as Oiidono, a hall where food offerings were ritually prepared, these three shrines are dedicated to the same entities enshrined in the Upper Shrine. Their function was different however, and it will be discussed in the following chapter under the heading “traveling icons.”63 In 824 a certain Sakai Tonushime, mother of the sacerdotal officiant Ōga no Umaro, was possessed and in an oracle revealed that demons that had fused with the spirits of Hayato killed in the 720s were hiding west of Hishigata Pond at the foot of Ogura Hill and were causing disturbances, but that they would be pacified if appeasement rituals were performed in front of a shrine to be erected for this purpose. The governor of Dazaifu at the time was Fujiwara no Katsunushi (n.d.); he participated in the initial rites of construction in 852 but was subsequently appointed Protector of Ōsumi Province and was then replaced in that ceremonial function by Usa no Toyokawa and Ōga no Umaro, who saw to the completion of the new shrine and called it Wakamiya.64 It seems that this Usa Wakamiya Shrine was originally dedicated to four entities, but it is only in later documents that we learn that they might have been four of Homuda’s children, to which a fifth was added later.65 The identification of the four entities as angry spirits of some Hayato, as suggested by the contents of the oracle, is inconsistent with the later identification of these entities with Homuda’s children, and this inconsistency seems never to have been questioned or explained. Furthermore, even though the Wakamiya Shrine is dedicated to five entities, artistic representations of the medieval period treat the Wakamiya as a single entity and view it as a youthful manifestation of Hachiman. The function of Wakamiya shrines in early Japan is unclear; scholars are inclined to see these shrines as dedicated to dangerous entities meting out chastisements (tatari) that ranged from droughts to painful possessions of individuals. The Usa Wakamiya Shrine is a famous case because it is regarded as the paradigmatic example of a phenomenon which became current during the late Heian period; its function may have been slightly different, however, from another and older Wakamiya Shrine mentioned in the eighth-­ century Fudoki and also located in north Kyushu, in Mononobe Village. In this case the kami seems to have been an entity invoked at the time of initiation of young warriors into manhood, but it is unclear whether all Wakamiya shrines were related to initiation—even though Nakano says that the five kami of the Wakamiya of Usa are “warrior deities.”66 This Wakamiya Shrine of Usa is surrounded by a grove of camphor trees and also has a small bamboo grove which became a famed site for the performance of plastromancy, a kind of divination using the shells of sea turtles; this seems to suggest that the Usa Wakamiya Shrine’s four original entities may have been related to crops or

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other tatari-related phenomena before they were displaced by the imperial cult dedicated to the progeny of Homuda. At this point we have to cut through the dense fog of legends concerning the origins of the Usa Shrine-­temple complex and simply state the obvious. The only thing the earliest documents suggest is that a shrine dedicated to an entity called Yahata may have been “transferred” from the summit of Mount Omoto to Ogura Hill in 725; that a second shrine, dedicated to a female entity called Himegami, was erected next to it in 734; that a Buddhist temple was transferred in 738 and erected on grounds adjacent to these two shrines; and that a third shrine, dedicated to Okinaga Tarashihime, was erected in 823. Although it is quite possible, if not probable, that there were in the region a number of cults predating 725, and that these cults and their associated narratives infiltrated the subsequent conception of history in Usa, nothing in the extant record suggests in what manner these cults were essential to the identification of Yahata as the deified form of Homuda in the late eighth century, while everything points to the possibility that the Hachiman cult evolved in Usa under direct Buddhist influence and in specific political conditions. Tsukaguchi Yoshinobu, a leading interpreter of the cycle of mythology related to Okinaga Tarashihime, takes a slightly different view on these matters. While he subscribes to the notion that the conformation of Yahata as the deified form of Homuda is a late eighth-­century phenomenon, he affirms that the legends surrounding Okinaga Tarashihime are much older (which is true), and that they may have been narrated by people belonging to the maritime cultures of the Lake Biwa region, the Inland Sea, and Kyushu. He also suggests that the Kashii Shrine or mausoleum, established in 724 and apparently dedicated to the spirit of “Emperor” Chūai, was a central feature in the process of the transformation of these legends by the political center of Yamato, but he offers no suggestion concerning the role of Usa residents and cults, or concerning the relationship between Kashii and Usa after 724. Moreover, and quite egregiously, Tsukaguchi makes no mention of Buddhism; this is probably because he wishes to retrieve the “folkish” origins of the legends he is dealing with.67 With regard to Nakano Hatayoshi’s notion that some beliefs surrounding Homuda were carried from Yamato to Kyushu by members of the Ōmiwa sacerdotal house, it should be said that its rationale appears to be weak (the documents called upon by Nakano to buttress his argument are, in the main, of medieval manufacture), and that its effect is to keep the creation of the Hachiman cult within the circle of sacerdotal houses that specialized in cults which were gathered during the medieval period under the umbrella of the emerging, imperium-­leaning set of cults in shrines (to which the name Shinto has been mistakenly attached). Some connection between

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Miwa and Kyushu appears in Nihon Shoki and in Fudoki, where it is said that Okinaga Tarashihime invoked the kami of Miwa before engaging in her conquest of the Korean Peninsula, but the origins and purport of this connection are extremely difficult to assess.68 It is indeed true that many connections between Yamato and Kyushu were essential to the formation of the Usa Hachiman cult in the eighth century, but they seem to have involved Buddhism and politics, and not the Miwa cult—which, in any case, may simply have been jostling for prominence at the time imperial records were compiled. Fujiwara no Hirotsugu (?–740) is a case in point. A smallpox epidemic had killed Fujiwara no Fuhito’s four sons in 737, but spared his daughter (Kōmyō, 701–60, who had become Emperor Shōmu’s consort in 731) as well as Hirotsugu (the son of Fujiwara no Umakai (694–737), who had been appointed vice-­governor of Dazaifu in Kyushu. The political vacuum left by the sudden and unexpected death of these members of the fledgling Fujiwara house was immediately filled by the courtiers Tachibana no Moroe (684–737) and Kibi no Makibi (693–775), who were assisted by the powerful Hossō monk Genbō in their efforts to remove the Fujiwara house from power. From his quasi-­ exile position in Dazaifu, Hirotsugu requested that Kibi no Makibi and Genbō be removed from their position, for he was afraid (with good reason, it seems) that his family’s future was threatened. Receiving no satisfaction to his request, Hirotsugu rebelled against the court and managed to raise an army said to have numbered 10,000 soldiers (a number that included about 5,000 Hayato), which he conscripted in the Kyushu provinces of Chikuzen and Bungo. At this point the Yamato government sent an even larger army under the direction of the famed commander Ōno no Azumando, and ordered the commander to dedicate a “supplication” (inori) to the “Yahata kami.” On Tenpyō 12 (740), tenth month, ninth day, Azumando submitted to court a detailed report of his battles with Hirotsugu, who, after attempting to flee by boat to the kingdom of Silla in the Korean Peninsula, was forced by fierce winds to return to Kyushu, where he was captured and put to death.69 The following year (Tenpyō thirteenth, first month, sixteenth day), the court condemned to death and executed twenty-­six supporters of Hirotsugu’s rebellion, stripped five officials of their ranks and possessions, abolished their families, exiled another thirty-­two people, and submitted 170 people to physical punishment.70 Two months later, on the intercalary third month, twenty-­fourth day, the court granted “Yahata jingū” the following gifts: one crown of gilded brocade, gold-­painted versions of the Konkōmyō Saishōōgyō71 and of the Lotus Sutra, ten government-­ordained monks, various subsidies, five horses, and funds for the construction of a three-­

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storied pagoda, all as tokens of its “gratitude for the fulfillment of the [court’s] earnest wish.” It is clear that the court had the Mirokuji Temple in mind as recipient of these gifts, but Shoku Nihongi refers to the site of cult by the term jingū, which was restricted to the Ise Shrine at the time.72 At about the same time, the court decreed the establishment of a country-­ wide network of provincial monasteries and nunneries (the kokubunji and kokubunniji), and a few months later it announced the construction of the Tōdaiji Temple, which was supposed to head the network. Emperor Shōmu’s consort Kōmyō was instrumental in this respect, for she returned the private lands of her father (Fujiwara no Fuhito) to the government and pledged them toward the construction of the network of provincial temples. She was also concerned with the survival of her own family however, and she managed to have Fujiwara no Nakamaro (706–64) appointed Counselor in 743; the Tachibana house thus found itself suddenly deprived of its power, as a result of which the Hossō prelate Genbō lost his political backing. Genbō was then accused of having behaved in a manner that did not befit his ecclesiastical position, and he was exiled to Kyushu, where he became the abbot of the Kanzeonji Temple in Dazaifu and died the following year. In 747 Emperor Shōmu fell ill; in the hope that the following measures would placate the source of his illness, the court promoted Yahata to the third rank, and granted the emerging Usa Shrine-­temple complex the revenues generated by taxes imposed on four hundred households, as well as fifteen ordained monks and twenty chō of wet rice fields.73 Two years later, an oracle revealed Yahata’s wish to be enshrined in Heijōkyō (Nara) on the grounds of the Tōdaiji, the imposing Buddhist temple which Emperor Shōmu and his consort Kōmyō were erecting in Heijōkyō and viewed as their ultimate political and cultural accomplishment. The eighth-­century installation of Yahata onto the stage of the most impressive imperial and Buddhist establishments of the Chinese-­style capital of Heijōkyō has long puzzled scholars of early Japanese history, and it is best to address it through a discussion of some of the factors that led to the treatment of kami as Buddhist deities during the eighth and ninth centuries. As I have suggested elsewhere, Hossō monks were instrumental in this respect, but it is worth stressing the issue further: the term “Hossō monks” refers here to some monks who were related in one way or another to the Kōfukuji, the Fujiwara house’s Buddhist temple in Heijōkyō.74 These monks, many of whom had visited China for extended periods of time during the eighth century, erected jingūji, that is, Buddhist temples on or near the grounds of shrines dedicated to local and native kami; several of these monks were also extremely active in

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political affairs in the capital and in Kyushu. Gyōki, the monk most-­often referred to in records of the time, was involved in cults conducted in front of kami, as is clear in Nihon Ryōiki, but it is best to stay away from the image of him that was constructed after his death, although his belated and rather political participation in the construction of the Tōdaiji is important to keep in mind.75 Genbō (?–746), who has already been mentioned, spent sixteen years in China and was exiled to Kyushu after the Fujiwara-­dominated court became wary of his political intrigues. Mangan (n.d.) was a Hossō monk who established temples on the grounds of shrines in the eastern parts of Japan; there were others, like Kenkei (705–93) and Tokuitsu (n.d.), and probably several more about whom there is little or no information. It is not known whether Hōren had any contacts with Hossō monks, but it would not be far-­fetched to imagine that he might have met them when they passed by Usa on their way to China. Shozan Engi, a document of the early medieval period, says that a Hossō monk of the Kōfukuji, Jugen, was a customary resident of Mount Hiko in Emperor Shōmu’s time, and it is not impossible to conjecture that he and Hōren may have met.76 In any case, these Hossō monks were instrumental in handling the first contacts between various local shrines and Buddhism, and the overall repercussions of their creation of jingūji (shrine-­temples) have not been sufficiently highlighted in the past. It is necessary to bear in mind that the Fujiwara house, which had strong political aspirations since its creation in the late seventh century, had built the Kōfukuji as its own private temple in the Outer Capital (gekyō) situated to the east of Heijōkyō. This temple housed the Hossō school of Buddhism and was closely associated with—if not responsible for—the Fujiwara ancestral and tutelary shrine located on the temple’s eastern flank, the Kasuga Shrine. Furthermore, some Kōfukuji monks later became active in Shugendō.77 In other words, Hossō monks were related to the Fujiwara house by design or context, and they cannot be discussed separately from a dominant policy on the part of the Fujiwara house, which was to spread Buddhism around the country in order to consolidate its own political and cultural power. As one may surmise, the Fujiwara house was extremely keen on Kyushu; it managed to have one of its members (Muchimaro, whose biography was authored by the Hossō monk Kenkei mentioned above) nominated to the governorship of Kyushu at Dazaifu in 732; members of the Fujiwara house indubitably learned of the Usa region through such channels of information. Finally, it is necessary again to take into consideration the geography of the region and emphasize its maritime dimensions: the Inland Sea was the main route between Yamato and Kyushu, and therefore between the Kinai area and the continent; it was plied by

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ships transporting merchants and goods, monks, and government officials, and it is thought that in earlier times it had been controlled by sea people (Azumi, Kaifu) who allied themselves with the Yamato rulers and formed part of their naval forces in pre-Nara times. Many of these sea people were from the northern shores of Kyushu, which abound with their shrines, their legends, and their rites.78 The main harbor on the Yamato side of the Inland Sea was Naniwa, while Usa (west of the Kunisaki Peninsula) and Taketazu (on the northern shore of Kunisaki) were the main harbors on the Suō Bay; this enables us to understand why the Usa Hachiman cult is replete with traces of maritime culture, and why some monks visited Dazaifu, Mount Hōman, Mount Kawara, and Usa on their way to or back from China. The cultic sites of the Usa region thus achieved notoriety at court during the eighth century, first at the time of the “Hayato uprisings” during the years 708–20, second at the time of “diplomatic problems” with Silla in 737, and third, at the time of Fujiwara no Hirotsugu’s “rebellion” of 740. In all cases, Buddhism was involved. The authors of Shoku Nihongi record these events, though they do not refer to Usa by name before the imperial offerings that were made in 737. The decisive factor in the rise to prominence of the Usa cult in Yamato, however, occurred in 749, when the two kami of the Usa shrines were invoked to become the tutelary kami of the Tōdaiji Temple, which was nearing completion.79 The circumstances surrounding this event are not quite clear, but it appears that the Usa region might have contributed funds for the construction of the statue of the Great Buddha at the Tōdaiji Temple. Indeed, an Usa tradition claims that when Emperor Shōmu learned that there was not enough gold available for melting the bronze statue of the great Buddha Roshana which was to be dedicated in that temple’s main hall, he sent an imperial envoy to China on a mission to acquire the precious metal. On his way to China on Tenpyō 21 (749) this envoy stopped by Usa, where he allegedly was apprised of the following oracle: “The gold you look for shall come forth from this land. Do not send the envoy to China.”80 Although the incident mentioned above is not reported in it, Shoku Nihongi mentions that the governor of Mutsu Province at the time, Kudara-Ō Yoshitomi (of Korean ancestry), offered 900 ryō-worth of gold to the emperor. There is a possibility that Usa provided some financial assistance (or some metal) as well; in any case, the court granted Usa 120 ryō of that gold.81 On the nineteenth day of the eleventh month of 749 another oracle, this time stipulating the wish of the two entities enshrined in Usa (Yahata and Himegami) to proceed to the capital, was pronounced. Empress Kōken (718–70, a daughter of Emperor Shōmu and Kōmyō) ascended the throne the same year, just in time for the inauguration

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of the Tōdaiji temple. After a remarkable display of pageantry, ritual purity precautions, and taboos against the taking of life all along the route between Usa and Heijōkyō, the kami of Usa were installed in the newly-­erected Tamukeyama Shrine on the grounds of the Tōdaiji, on the eighteenth day of the twelfth month. Empress Kōken decreed at that time that the Ōmiwa sacerdotal officiants serving at that shrine be granted a title (they rose to the rank of ason, the second highest) and, Nakano says, should change the pronunciation of their name to Ōga.82 Ōga Morime, who is identified in Shoku Nihongi as negini, that is, a female medium dressed as a Buddhist nun, and Ōga Tamaro were thus put in charge of the cult; they visited the Tōdaiji nine days thereafter, and participated later, in 752, in the grand ceremonies of the dedication of the Tōdaiji.83 In 750 the court granted Usa the revenues of 1,400 households—more than the Ise Shrine itself had ever received at once—and the Ōga shrine officiants were given ranks that surpassed those of the Ōnakatomi sacerdotal officiants of Ise (this title also means they received the revenue from lands automatically granted with this rank and called iden, rank-­fields).84 “Yahata” began to generate oracles, and these were used mostly for political purposes and to call for promotion to higher offices, notably on the part of members of the Fujiwara house. There is thus little doubt that these two “kami” of Usa were conceived of as protecting the court and the Tōdaiji, and that more and more people tended to conceive of their character along Buddhist doctrinal lines. At the same time, the Ōga ritualists gained dominance over the Usa and Karashima houses, which led to troublesome competitions for social power and sacerdotal status between all concerned. The Usa Shrines were the only cultic institution of the time governed by three different sacerdotal houses, and this fact, coupled with the shrines’ early association with the temples and with an imperial court that was located hundreds of miles away, makes Usa an altogether intriguing feature of Japan’s early imperial cultic system. Emperor Shōmu died in 756 and his successor Empress Kōken abdicated in 758 in favor of Emperor Junnin (733–65), who left Kōken a large amount of power which she increasingly shared with her personal counselor, the Hossō monk Dōkyō (?–772). Dōkyō was born in a sub-­branch of the Yuge house in Kawachi Province, and it is said that the famed Hossō monk Gien trained him. Like many monks at the time, Dōkyō would have been deeply interested in esoteric practices, and he spent several years performing austerities on the Katsuragi mountain range, perhaps one of the earliest seats of Shugendō. In 761 the retired empress fell ill, and Dōkyō was called on to perform rites for her recovery. He would have engaged in “secret rites [dedicated to] heavenly constellations” (sukuyō hihō), about which there are no details, although they

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most probably were used in healing contexts. His ministrations were deemed successful and the retired empress soon came to regard Dōkyō as her personal healer (zenji; although this term may mean “master of meditation,” it was a title granted by the court to respected monks) as well as her spiritual advisor—and she increasingly relied on him for political direction. Rumors began to spread, however, that her relationship with Dōkyō was inappropriate. When during the following month Emperor Junnin remonstrated her, it is said, the retired empress took umbrage and, even though she had backed Junnin over the years, her rapport with him deteriorated and she seems to have granted ever more support to Dōkyō at the same time as she began to plot to remove Junnin from the throne. During the seventh month of 763 she appointed Dōkyō to the position of monacal vice-­rector (shōsōzu), a decision that caused deep resentment on the part of the Chancelor at the time, Fujiwara no Nakamaro. He then attempted to place a personal favorite as the next in line to the throne but was thwarted by Dōkyō, who had him exiled, and he was assassinated in the ninth month of 764. Retired Empress Kōken immediately appointed Dōkyō to the new position of “Buddhist minister of state” (daijin zenji), and managed to depose Junnin, who was exiled to Awaji Island and was assassinated the following year as he attempted to flee. Some time during the tenth month of 763 the retired empress re-­ascended the throne, this time under the name Shōtoku, and gave Dōkyō ever more power. During the intercalary tenth month of 765, for example, she appointed him to the highest office, named him “Buddhist Chancelor of State” (dajōdaijin zenji), and at some time in the tenth month of 766 she appointed him to a new position that must have ruffled many a feather: “Buddhist hegemon” (or “dharma king,” hōō). The following year, offices for this new position were created, and Dōkyō was granted military powers. In 768 he had several of his family members promoted to high ranks in the aristocracy, and in the following year court members were required to pay respects to him on the first day of the year, when—for the first time in history—the government performed Buddhist rites of penance within the compounds of the imperial palace. During the ninth month of the same year, however, it was revealed that Yahata would have uttered an oracle in Usa, saying that Dōkyō should be the next emperor. The relations between the court and Buddhism on the one hand and, on the other hand, between the Fujiwara house and the members of the Hossō Buddhist branch it promoted, were reaching a critical level. Indeed, shocked by this claim, courtiers sent to Usa one of their trusted members, Wake no Kiyomaro (733–99), with the mission to confirm the authenticity of the oracle, but Kiyomaro received there an oracle to the effect that Dōkyō was an impostor:

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Mountain Mandalas Ever since the creation of this land [the distinction between] ruler and subject has been clearly defined. It has never happened that a subject becomes a ruler. Only the imperial lineage is entitled to rule. He who ignores the way must be quickly removed.85

Dōkyō was subsequently exiled to a distant site in the opposite direction of Kyushu, and he died there three years later, while Empress Shōtoku died in 770. This event—if it ever happened as reported—marks the rise of the entities enshrined in Usa to an even higher level in the emerging imperial cultic system, for the simple reason that the latter oracle legitimated imperial political power while denying Hossō monks the possibility of forming a Buddhist theocracy. Conversely, the oracle may have marked a low point, for the equally simple reason that some courtiers or competing sacerdotal officiants may have suggested that the Ōga sacerdotal officiants fraudulently claimed to have received oracles of potent political consequences—a matter examined below.

Oracular pronouncements as divine directives The oracular pronouncements attributed to the Usa entities played a pivotal role in the constitution of the relations between policy-­making functions and sacerdotal functions in the early stages of the imperial cultic system; these relations were, is it necessary to say, of a competitive nature. Much is known about the policy-­making functions, institutions, and history of eighth-­century Japan, but a lot less is known about sacerdotal functions in general, and oracular activity in particular. Ross Bender wrote that “unfortunately, nothing is known of the details of the Usa medium’s trances and pronouncements, whether, like the Pythia at Delphi, she chewed laurel leaves or prophesied while seated on a tripod. It is apparent, however, that the Kanzukasa (in this case Ōmiwa [sic] Tamaro) served as an interpreter of the words of the medium (Ōmiwa [sic] Morime) and hence had a great power over these pronouncements.”86 It is important to attempt to gain some insights into this problem, which will be presented below as a question involving space and time, and beginning with the status of women in shrines. There is little information on women of the eighth century, and even less on women of areas so distant as Kyushu. The role of empresses in succession disputes as well as the presence of an empress on the throne at the time notwithstanding, the realm of politics was becoming a predominantly male social space. In the geographical regions that were being established as “peripheral” with regard to the Yamato political center, however, some political decisions appear to have been

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the result of oracular activity on the part of women, a feature often recorded in historical documents.87 The Usa cult, particularly in the late eighth or early ninth century stages of its elaboration of Yahata as the deified form of King Homuda, is a case in point in that a particular configuration of the cult came to include Yahata’s mother, identified as Okinaga Tarashihime in the Kojiki, Nihon Shoki, and Fudoki records in which she is described as a shaman-­like figure who spoke the will of kami. It is clear enough that neither Kojiki nor Nihon Shoki present reliable information about the fourth century (when the events related to the Homuda cycle might have happened); to some extent, though, they should be trusted concerning the view of sacerdotal women held at the time of these documents’ conception, in 712 and 720 respectively. Even though only Nihon Shoki treats her as an empress, in both documents Okinaga Tarashihime is described as being seized in a trance and pronouncing an oracle; typically, oracles were interpreted by a male interpreting officiant (saniwa), and Kojiki informs us that the (legendary) “minister” Takeshiuchi no Sukune played this role.88 Nihon Shoki does not record the name of the interpreter, but tells us that upon Chūai’s death his consort “discharged in person that function.”89 By the time these chronicles were compiled by the imperial court in Yamato, it seems that female shrine officiant/nuns of Usa uttered pronouncements, and that once the Usa site of cult came to the attention of the court, these oracles were recorded and sent to the government in Heijōkyō. This implies that women were regarded as able transmitters of the will of divine entities, and that their messages were heard as directives concerning the future and as constitutive elements of a political realm that was expressed and legitimated in semiotic terms. In other words, sacerdotal women who were engaging in oracular activities occupied a social space characterized by a position recognized by the court (they were granted court ranks and were promoted when their pronouncements pleased the court), but they were also associated with a specific temporal orientation, the future. On the other hand, while male scribes and historians were predominantly engaged in the construction of the past as a narrative whose function was to legitimate the present, the male interpreters of oracles were directly concerned with a near future about which silences from the realm of the “unseen” were intolerable. These silences were broken by pronouncements issued at the outcome of possession, through a specific relation between divine entities and women, and they help reveal the source of a linguistically structured imperium. Although there is a strong likelihood that “historical” narratives were geared toward formulating a prescription for the future in the sense that they were made to support the legitimacy claims of the Yamato court, the will of kami representing

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large local or regional constituencies was held in awe, and direct access to that will gave some women a modicum of control over events—at least over those events that were submitted to oracular judgment. The arrival of Yahata in Heijōkyō, however, signified that these women’s oracular practice was to become supremely political: in 754, two years after the completion of the Tōdaiji, the Ōga mediums mentioned above, who had officiated at the time of the installation of the Usa entities in the Tamukeyama Shrine of the Tōdaiji, together with the Hossō monk Gyōshin were accused of engaging in “sorcery,” as a consequence of which they were stripped of their names and court ranks, and were exiled. The position of Shrine Managing Official (kanzukasa) was then taken away from the Ōga house and was granted to the Usa house, which, it will be recalled, had been (re-)constituted by imperial decree in 721. In 755 another oracle issued in Usa revealed that Yahata did not wish to keep the lands and households granted earlier, because “fraudulent oracles have been made in my name.” With the exception of permanent shrine lands the sacerdotal officiants of Usa returned these lands to the court. This event marked the rise (some say, the return to power) of the Usa sacerdotal house in Kyushu, and the exacerbation of a long-­standing competition between the Usa and Ōga sacerdotal houses. According to the ninth-­century Hachimangū Jōwa Engi, Yahata communicated in 755 an oracle informing of his “wish to be enshrined at Uwa Peak in Iyo Province and of [his] desire never to return to Usa, because a pollution has occurred.”90 A new sanctuary was then ordered; it was completed in 766 at Ōoyama under the direction of Usa no Ikemori. According to Nakano, the pollution in question was the fact that Ōga no Morime and Tamaro had been accused of sorcery, as a result of which Morime was exiled to Hyūga Province (in southeast Kyushu), while Tamaro was exiled to Tanegashima, south of Kyushu. Tamaro was pardoned in 766, but he did not return to Usa at the time. In 767, a certain Nakatomi no Asomaro was appointed vice-­governor of Buzen Province. It is this Nakatomi no Asomaro, who had abandoned his political position in Buzen and taken a position of sacerdotal authority at Dazaifu, who would have reported to the Yamato court the Usa oracle recommending that Dōkyō be the Buddhist king.91 According to Nakano, this means that Dōkyō knew of the historical and geographical relations between the Nakatomi and Usa houses in Kyushu, and used that knowledge in a skillful manner. The 769 oracle recommending that Dōkyō become an emperor would thus have been the event that visited disaster upon the Ōga house and marked the victory of the Usa house. When Empress Shōtoku died in 770, Emperor Kōnin ascended the throne and, as was mentioned above, he forthwith exiled Dōkyō to Shimotsuke Province, and

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exiled Nakatomi no Asomaro to Tanegashima. He then recalled Wake no Kiyomaro from exile and appointed him Protector (kami) of Buzen Province. The following year, Wake no Kiyomaro petitioned the governor of Dazaifu to send three inspectors and three Urabe diviners to Usa, so that they may investigate several “fraudulent oracles” said to have been made by sacerdotal officiants of Usa and to have resulted in defamation of the court and in troubles in the country.92 Kiyomaro subsequently produced a report in which he indicated that five cases of fraudulent oracles were checked (through the use of plastromancy) by Urabe diviners; two of these oracles were deemed to be fraudulent, and three, to have been true oracular pronouncements. Usa no Ikemori claimed that the fraudulent oracles had been made by a Karashima female medium named Katsuyosome, but the government disagreed with that claim. Usa no Ikemori and Ōga no Katsuyosome were then relieved of their position, and a certain Ōga no Okihime (then twelve years old) was appointed to the position of negi, while a certain Karashima Tatsumaro (then forty-­four years old) was appointed to the sacerdotal position called hafuri. In a stunning reversal, the government then appointed as head officiant of the Usa Sanctuary the disgraced Ōga no Tamaro, who was fifty-­ two at the time. After these events, but before Wake no Kiyomaro eventually returned to Yamato, Yahata caused five oracles to be recorded, all of which were about Buddhism and relief from governmental duties. Nakano remarks that the Fujiwara house was behind this gruesome imbroglio between the sacerdotal houses, and that it would have induced Nakatomi no Asomaro to record the “fraudulent” oracles and thus put Dōkyō to the helm of the state—only to see the Usa house turn around and cause Dōkyō’s fall at the same time it accused the Ōga house of wrongdoing. Had it been the case, though, wouldn’t one expect some member of the Fujiwara house to have come into some kind of trouble or under some manner of suspicion? Nothing in the extant records suggests the Fujiwara house’s culpability. In any case, it is remarkable that a subsequent oracle remonstrates the sacerdotal houses of Usa, saying, “Henceforth, do not jostle for pre-­eminence.” Needless to say, there was a lot more jostling in the following Heian period. Oracular activity on the part of sacerdotal women in Usa ceased in 872,93 a date by which the Mirokuji Temple came to dominate all affairs of the Usa Shrine-­temple complex, and Buddhist monks claimed to directly receive oracles. Women were thus almost entirely removed from the oracular political stage, although some of them (particularly as mates of yamabushi) continued their practice on what has been called the “popular” level. Many young boys also served as oracles, and this was true of the Hachiman cult as well, be it in Usa or elsewhere. There is no question, then, that the Nara and Heian periods saw a competition

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between the Fujiwara house and Hossō monks, between some court members and Buddhism, between males and females and their respective social spaces, and that this competition was set within the context of an opposition between central and peripheral spaces, and between contending, gender-­based sources of silence and speech, of absence and presence. The social space of policy-­makers and that of sacerdotal specialists were carved out through intense competitions regarding the right to make authoritative pronouncements.

The early Heian period: Iwashimizu Hachiman Heijōkyō was abandoned by the court fifteen years after the Dōkyō incident and whatever remained of the imperial city came to be known as Nara. The court’s edict ordering the removal of the capital to Nagaoka in 784 stipulated that Buddhist temples were not included in the move; it has been maintained, as a consequence, that the move of the capital was a deliberate attempt to put an end to the political machinations of Buddhist prelates (particularly, those of Hossō affiliation), but it would be erroneous to see this as the only reason: epidemics, the quality and quantity of water, and other reasons of an economic character must have been equally weighty. The new site for the capital (Nagaoka) proved to be inadequate for a number of reasons, however, and the capital was moved again a few miles north in 794 and was then named Heiankyō, today known as Kyoto. This hiatus of about ten years between the end of the Nara period and the beginning of the Heian period, together with the court’s new emphases on conquering the northern parts of the Japanese isles and on dealing directly with Tang China, and together with the self-­imposed “exile” of Yahata to Iyo Province, may explain why nothing concerning the identity of Hachiman is contained in official documents prior to 821. Heiankyō (Kyoto) was conceived on a much larger scale than its three Chinese-­style predecessors (Fujiwarakyō, Heijōkyō, and Nagaokakyō), and was surrounded by already existing and rather important shrines such as Inari and Kamo, which belonged to various people who were living there when the capital was built, and who were also associated with Buddhism. As a consequence, the court was soon confronted with the necessity of formulating new policies concerning Buddhist and “native” cults, a necessity it confronted in the following manner. First, it sent to China some of Japan’s most respected or promising Buddhist monks and allowed them, upon their return to Japan, to establish new forms of Buddhism under the condition that they fully support the court. Two

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of these monks, Saichō and Kūkai, are said to have passed by Usa on their way to or from China. Saichō (posth. Dengyō Daishi, 767–822) subsequently established the Enryakuji Temple on Mount Hiei in the northeastern corner of Kyoto. Mount Hiei’s Buddhist temples were later associated with the Hie Shrines located at its eastern foot; this shrine-­temple complex evolved into one of Japan’s most powerful politico-­religious institutions, and had a great impact on Mount Hiko, Usa Hachiman, and the Kunisaki Peninsula: Hiko Shugendō was formed under Tendai esoteric doctrinal influences, the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex eventually fell under Tendai authority, and the Kunisaki temples were under the umbrella of Mount Hiei, the center of Tendai, for much of their history. Kūkai (posth. Kōbō Daishi, 774–835) spent several years at the Kanzeonji Temple of Dazaifu upon his return from China and subsequently spent a few more years in Kyoto at the Jingoji Temple said to have been created by Wake no Kiyomaro— the same Kiyomaro who had gone to Usa in 769 to check the authenticity of the oracle Dōkyō claimed to have received.94 Kūkai created the Kongōbuji Monastery on Mount Kōya in the mountains of the Kii Peninsula, south of Kyoto and Nara, and subsequently established Shingon Esoteric Buddhism in the Tōji (Kyōōgokokuji) Temple located at the southern entrance to Kyoto. The forms of Esoteric Buddhism Kūkai brought back from China swiftly became the dominant ritual and philosophical system of Japan and soon pervaded Tendai and most other forms of Buddhism. In their Tendai and Shingon formulations, Esoteric Buddhisms were essential to the constitution of Shugendō and of all Buddhist systems of appropriation of local cults, which they thoroughly dominated through their interpretive schemata and ancillary institutional power. These combinations of esoteric and exoteric doctrines, practices, and institutions, together with Buddhist control over the main shrines of the time, went on to form major political and economic power blocks Kuroda Toshio referred to as kenmitsu taisei, the “exoteric/esoteric regime.” Accordingly, the Hachiman cult came under the sway of this regime; indeed, the tutelary sanctuaries (chinju) of the Jingoji and Tōdaiji Temples were dedicated to Hachiman, while the Otokunidera of Nagaoka, a temple where Kūkai spent some time, became the site of an intriguing cult dedicated to a figure whose head is that of Hachiman, and whose body is that of Kūkai. Many Buddhist temples that were sponsored by the imperial system subsequently enshrined Hachiman as their tutelary entity, in an unequivocal expression of their support of the imperial policies concerning the political and economic role of Buddhist temples. A second policy on the part of the early Heian court consisted in unifying the codes of ritual performance in shrines related to the history of the imperial line

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and its satellite houses. Promulgated in 869 and 871 under the name Jōgan Gishiki (Ritual Procedures of the Jōgan Era), these rules had a substantive effect that had been carefully calculated. Together with the Procedures of the Engi Era (Engi Shiki) promulgated in 967, they ensured the consolidation of the imperial cultic system mentioned earlier in this chapter, but they also represented an attempt to establish boundaries between Buddhist and non-Buddhist cults in the imperial house, an issue that is best discussed in relation to the creation of the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex. Shortly before the Jōgan ritual procedures were promulgated the Usa Hachiman kami/Bodhisattva was enshrined in 859 in a new and sumptuous

Map 4  Iwashimizu complex location

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shrine-­temple complex called Iwashimizu, on the basis of an oracle that was revealed, not to a female officiant but to a Buddhist monk. This shrine-­temple complex was established south of Kyoto on Mount Otoko, overlooking a narrow corridor that provided the only access from Heiankyō to the Inland Sea.95 Four rivers conjoin at the foot of Mount Otoko to form the Yodo River, which winds its way through the corridor and flows into the Inland Sea at Osaka: the Katsura River from the northwest, the Kamo River from the north, the Uji River from the northeast, and the Kizu River from the east. Mount Otoko was clearly a strategic location from which all river and road traffic could be observed, and it is there that the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex was built for the avowed purpose of protecting the court. The person responsible for this development was Gyōgyō, a Shingon monk of the Daianji Temple in Nara, who had studied in China and had invoked Yahata as the protector (chinju) of his temple in 807, probably because he had spent a summer retreat (ango) in Usa on his way to or from China and had asked for the deity’s protection during his travels. Gyōgyō, however, enjoyed a close relationship with the grand minister Fujiwara no Yoshifusa (804–72). Yoshifusa’s dominance over the political institutions of his time marks the rise of the Northern Branch of the Fujiwara house to unmitigated political power during the early Heian period, a power which it gathered through a series of coups d’état known as hen and of which the first, called in historical records Jōwa no hen, occurred in 842. Until that time, it is often held, future emperors had been chosen from within the imperial lineage itself by members of that lineage. It was soon understood, however, that a future emperor had few chances of reaching the throne alive unless he was backed by powerful courtiers, and the various coups that occurred between 842 (Jōwa) and 969 (Anna) established a rule according to which, in effect, an emperor-­to-be would be selected exclusively among imperial princes who were born of a union between an emperor and a woman born in the Five Branches of the Fujiwara house, from which regents were chosen. These coups corresponded to the rule of Fujiwara no Fuyutsugu, Yoshifusa, and Mototsune, to the creation of the office of “house chieftain” (uji no kami) of the Fujiwara house and to the creation of the regency (sekkan), which the Fujiwara house went on to dominate. In the 842 case (Jōwa no hen), Yoshifusa arranged, after Emperor Saga’s death and in agreement with the imperial consort Tachibana no Kachiko (786–850), to falsely accuse the heir apparent of treason, had him removed, and demoted his supporters, then put in his place his own grandson, who ascended the throne in 850 as Emperor Montoku. Montoku, however, died in 858, at which point the

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question of succession arose again. Yoshifusa then arranged for his nine-­year-old grandson, Imperial Prince Korehito, to become heir apparent, but three other princes representing the interests of competing factions were in contention for the position. At that point Yoshifusa sent the monk Gyōgyō to Usa in order to request Yahata (Hachiman)’s support for his candidate. However, even before Gyōgyō had time to leave the capital for Usa, Korehito ascended the throne on the seventh day of the eleventh month, 858, under the name Mizunoo (changed shortly thereafter to Seiwa), and Yoshifusa was thus empowered to rule in the name of the infant emperor. Wake no Hironori, a descendant of Kiyomaro’s, was sent to Usa on the third month of 859 to announce Korehito’s accession to the throne. The enthronement of Korehito was a turning point in the history of nonBuddhist and Buddhist cults; many shrines related to the court were elevated in rank at the time, while the Fujiwara house erected on Kagura Hill in Kyoto a duplication of its Kasuga Shrine (the Yoshida Shrine). The year 859 thus marks the beginning of the direct control by the Fujiwara house over sites of cult, and heralds that house’s often forgotten but fundamental involvement in cultic matters. It is more than probable, hence, that the site of Mount Otoko was chosen by Gyōgyō in consultation with Fujiwara no Yoshifusa to underscore the legitimacy of Yoshifusa’s grandson’s enthronement and to provide Kyoto with ritual and military protection from the south, and it may be worth opening a brief parenthesis at this juncture to elucidate the meaning of the term “ritual protection.” The imperial lineage and the leading aristocratic houses of the time dedicated offerings and rites concurrently to Buddhist deities and to kami enshrined in specific sites, on occasions related either to personal events (such as rites of passage, promotion, disease, and death), or to conditions which were thought to affect the court at large (such as intrigues, rebellions, wars, droughts, epidemics, comets, fires, and the like). Both Tendai and Shingon branches of Esoteric Buddhism became the vehicles of choice for the performance of rites held to be effective against all these threatening situations, and during the Heian period their thaumaturgists were on constant call in and out of the imperial palace. These thaumaturgists provided protection through the invocation of mystical entities believed to hold sway over the agents of the crises that befell an individual or the court, and they performed a variety of rituals through which they reached mystic identification with, and control over, the entities in question. The majority of these rituals tended to be performed with the help of spatially arranged diagrams called mandalas, which were either drawn, inscribed with potent formulas, or established in ritual enclosures with a number of ritual

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implements. These practices indicate that the human body was conceived of as a space needing protection, and that the territory claimed by the court was conceived of as having a spatial extension protected by the Buddhist entities represented in mandalas, and by the kami residing in the shrines to which the court made supplications. By the middle of the Heian period, many of the thaumaturgists officiating at court and in the private homes of courtiers were yamabushi who were believed to have gained supernatural powers in the course of their ascetic practices in mountainous areas. Sites such as the capital came to be regarded as symbolic realms guarded at various points and from various directions by the shrines and temples that formed together what Kuroda Toshio called the exoteric/esoteric regime. This is what is meant by “ritual protection” and we can now return to the circumstances that surrounded the creation of the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex. Even though Yoshifusa’s grandson had been enthroned without problem, which might lead to the assumption that Gyōgyō did not need to leave on his original mission, the monk was ordered to depart for Usa on the fifth day of the third month of Jōgan 1 (859) to oversee the copying of Buddhist scriptures that Yoshifusa himself had dedicated. Once in Usa, however, Gyōgyō received an oracle on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, in which Hachiman declared, “I wish that another site for this sanctuary be placed closer to the capital, so that I may better provide the court with my protection.”96 This revelation was a formidable break with tradition in that, as we have seen, the oracles uttered by Hachiman had until then been received by women of the Ōga or Karashima sacerdotal lineages, and were interpreted by males belonging either to the Ōga or Usa sacerdotal lineages. This was apparently the first, but not the last time, that a Buddhist monk was directly granted a revelation from Hachiman, and this event seems to indicate that the relatively strong position of women in oracular shrines related to the court was about to disappear, and that Buddhist monks were consolidating their superiority over a great many shrine officiants. These monks behaved as the authoritative revealers of an otherworldly presence, and saw that presence as the source of a speech powerful enough that it could structure socio-­ political reality—or at least their conception and representation of it. Gyōgyō immediately returned to Kyoto and spent some time secluded in the detached imperial residence of Yamazaki, across from Mount Otoko on the west bank of the Yodo River. There he received another oracle, intimating that replicas of the “three shrines” of Usa, dedicated to Yahata (Hachiman), Hime-ō-­kami (Himegami), and Okinaga Tarashihime (Jingū Kōgō), must be erected on Mount

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Otoko. He then spent three days and nights in seclusion on Mount Otoko, and reported the events to the court, which straightway ordered that work on the new sanctuary begin without delay. The material icons symbolizing the divine entities were enshrined on Mount Otoko on the nineteenth day of the ninth month, 860.97 The following year, Gyōgyō was again sent to Usa to perform devotions and ceremonially chant the Wisdom Sutra and other scriptures. In 861 the head sacerdotal officiant of Usa, Ōga no Tanakamaro, was promoted to the fifth rank, while the new shrine-­temple complex of Iwashimizu was granted fifteen monks ordained under government authority. Gyōgyō then built a sutra repository at Iwashimizu and put one of his disciples at the head of the sutra-­copying effort. Emperor Seiwa, then eleven years old, requested that rain-­making rituals be performed at Iwashimizu, and the first hōjō-­e ritual of atonement was performed in 863. There is little doubt that Yoshifusa was behind the entire episode, which had taken only four years to come to fruition. While it may appear that the entities enshrined at Iwashimizu were kami, since three shrines were built, it is essential to underscore the fact that Hachiman was regarded at the time as a Bodhisattva, that is, as a Buddhist deity. The oldest reference to the subject is the aforementioned official decree (kanpu) dated 821, which appointed members of the Ōga and Usa houses as head-­officiants of the cult dedicated in Usa to the “Great Bodhisattva Hachiman” (Hachiman daibosatsu). In that decree it is recorded that Hachiman received the title/name (songō) “Gokoku Reigen Iriki Jinzū Daibosatsu” in 781, but that an oracle dated 783 would have expressed Hachiman’s wish to change this name to “Gokoku Reigen Iriki Jinzū Daijizaiō-­bosatsu.” This title/name begs for some explanation. The term gokoku means, literally, “ritual protection of the court.” The term reigen refers to the “supernatural evidence” manifested by Hachiman’s providence in the form of oracular pronouncements, but also made manifest in the course of history through the success of rituals drawn from Esoteric Buddhism. The term iriki means “awe-­inspiring power” and refers to the efficacy of these rituals. The term jinzū was apparently borrowed by Esoteric Buddhism from Daoism, in which context it referred to powers sustaining the course of the natural world, and, subsequently, to such powers as may be gained through austerities by practitioners of Esoteric Buddhism. The term daijizaiō means literally “king of great freedom,” but it is a veiled or oblique reference to the Indian notion of “universal monarch” (daijizaiten, Skt., cakravartin) appropriated by Buddhism.98 Finally, the term daibosatsu means “Great Bodhisattva.” Hachiman’s new Bodhisattva name, then, expressed the divine entity’s status and functions in the

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imperial cultic system, and Hachiman came to be represented in statues and paintings known in art history as sōgyō Hachiman, that is, Hachiman in its monk form.99 The Jōgan ritual codes were compiled and promulgated during the reign of the infant emperor under Yoshifusa’s rule, and indicate that the Fujiwara opted to play a defining role in regulating the imperial cultic system. Although only parts of the Jōgan Procedures are extant today, they reveal a fundamental policy according to which all rites performed in shrines related to the court would be unified in terms of offerings and ritual procedure, and according to which the originally private character of these shrines would be mitigated so that the cults carried out therein be replaced with an official, court-­oriented cult. In other words, private houses were still allowed to dedicate rites to their ancestral and tutelary kami in those shrines, but they now were to do so in the name of the emperor. Furthermore, the Jōgan Procedures stipulated that rites dedicated to various kami by the emperor as part of his official sacerdotal functions be performed prior to and separately from Buddhist rites, and that monks and nuns would not be allowed to participate or be present at such times anymore, especially on the occasion of the enthronement ceremonies (a stipulation which suggests that they had been present in the past). This “distancing” from Buddhism, as it has been called by one Japanese scholar, should not be over-­interpreted.100 It represented a rationalization of “official” rites performed by the emperor and various sacerdotal lineages working within the imperial palace, and it was related to the emerging contention, on the part of some shrine ritualists, that imperial legitimacy should preferentially be grounded in cults dedicated to kami. This policy did symbolize an effort on the part of those sacerdotal officiants to exclude Buddhism from imperial rites, but it did not succeed, because the emperor and the majority of aristocratic houses supported Buddhism on official as well as personal levels. Moreover, the Fujiwara house began to appoint some of its ordained members to the hereditary abbacy of Buddhist temples controlling the shrines that came to be sponsored by the court in the earlier parts of the Heian period, and other houses followed suit in a development that had several major consequences. First, hereditary abbacy (monzeki) empowered aristocratic houses to control the ever-­growing, tax-­free estates commended on various occasions by the court to their temples and shrines. Second, hereditary abbacy led to a thorough association of these shrines and temples, resulting in the formation of shrine-­ temple complexes whose abbots controlled the administrative and ritual affairs of the sacerdotal houses responsible for the shrines. Such was the fundamental

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reason for the production of various doctrines of association, whose object was to rationalize the situation by viewing the kami of the shrines as local manifestations of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas that were worshipped in the adjacent temples.101 Third, this hereditary abbacy was responsible for the consolidation of a formal understanding of the relations that were to obtain between these sites of cult and the court; this understanding was called ōbō-­ buppō, “imperial rule [depends on] Buddhist rule,” but it should be clear that the term “Buddhist rule” in fact referred to shrine-­temple complexes that were governed by Buddhist prelates who worshipped the kami enshrined therein (since they were members of the houses that managed the shrines).102 In other words, the shrine-­temple institutions sponsored by the court were associated on ritual, administrative, economic, and ideological levels, and were often controlled by ordained members of the leading aristocratic houses and of the imperial lineage itself. The Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex was one such institution; headed by ordained members of the Ki house, which claimed to be descended from Takeshiuchi no Sukune (Okinaga Tarashihime’s interpreter of oracles), and in which Gyōgyō was born, it was transformed into a major court-­related site of cult. The government later requested that the Iwashimizu complex control the affairs of the Mirokuji, the Buddhist temple erected on the grounds of Kyushu Island’s Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex. These various developments make the intention of Fujiwara no Yoshifusa’s policies appear with crisp clarity: it was to put some leading shrine-­temple complexes under an imperial court controlled by the Fujiwara house, and to bring the periphery under control of the center. Put another way, the object of these policies was to create a center that would be as political as it was ceremonial, a notion as well as a practice that were reinforced by the promulgation of the Procedures of the Engi Era (Engi Shiki) in 967.103 The institutional characteristics outlined above explain in part why Hachiman received the title of Bodhisattva, but they also indicate the limitations of the meaning of the term at the time. Indeed, ninety years earlier, this supposedly aboriginal entity had played a crucial role in removing the Buddhist monk Dōkyō from the classical organon (i.e., the principle of imperial organization as a mirror image of the organization of the kami in the mythology) and had, consequently, destroyed any possibility for a Buddhist theocracy to be formed in Japan. What did entitle Hachiman, then, to be called a Bodhisattva? Possible answers to this question are related to the formulation of complex arrangements between imperial power and those Buddhist institutions that were attempting to assume control over “native” sites of cult. In these arrangements, imperial power was problematic

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because its legitimacy depended on mythological narratives directly related to originally non-Buddhist sites, but its maintenance and much of its social expression and representation came to depend on esoteric rituals performed in Buddhist temples. This problematization of imperial relations with Buddhist and nonBuddhist sites of cult had surfaced in 769 at the time of the Dōkyō incident; it became the focus of the court’s attention at the beginning of the ninth century and it was “solved” by the compilation of the Jōgan Codes less than one century later, and by the Engi Procedures another century thereafter. The term “solved” is in quotation marks because, while these procedures succeeded in giving precedence to cults dedicated by emperors to local kami over cults given to Buddhist deities, and while they succeeded in unifying ritual and protocol in shrines, they did not succeed in controlling or abetting the growing cultural, economic, and institutional power of Buddhist temples, either on the level of the state or on that of private houses, and obviously not in the case of Usa Hachiman, the Great Bodhisattva. In other words, the “exoteric/esoteric regime” was marred with structural inconsistencies from its inception on. In concluding this necessarily sketchy discussion of the early Usa, Tamukeyama, and Iwashimizu cults dedicated to Yahata/Hachiman, a number of hypotheses concerning the character and function of the Hachiman cult in the eighth and early ninth centuries can be proposed. The events that connected Usa with Nara and Kyoto encompassed several territorial processes. First, the identification of Yahata with King Homuda (“Emperor” Ōjin) enabled a distant local shrine to claim direct imperial recognition, while it enabled the court to control a Kyushu cult and to embody its myths in actual institutions located in what it viewed as the periphery. This in turn brought Usa not only prestige, but economic power over adjacent territorial groups as well, in the form of imperially denominated estates. Second, the erection of an imperially sponsored Buddhist temple (the Mirokuji) on the grounds of the Usa Shrines, and its subsequent subordination to the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex of Kyoto can be seen as indicating that Buddhist temples were taking control of local or “native” cults in the name of the court, and that the court was attempting to control these “Buddhist” cults. Hachiman came to be regarded not only as the conformation of an imperial spirit protecting the imperial lineage, but also as a Bodhisattva, and was given a cult accordingly, the first of the kind in Japanese history. Third, these changes involved a competition between the Usa Shrine’s sacerdotal houses (Karashima, Usa, and Ōga), and they also entailed a struggle over the authority and the right to speak in the name of a Bodhisattva (and

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later, of a Buddha), which women shrine officiants gradually lost to male Buddhist prelates. These changes also suggest the origins, and one non-­negligible dimension, of the agonistic rapports between sacerdotal houses and Buddhist prelates that were mentioned at the beginning of this chapter. And fourth, these changes point to the definition of Hachiman as one of the supernatural protectors of a territory under imperial hegemony, and as a purifying agent of the blood-­ related pollutions garnered in the course of territorial violence. Hachiman was believed to protect the court not only from Korean invasions, but also from pirates and any other external or internal threats, and to take responsibility for the violence which accompanied this protection—and was seen as a threat to the ritual purity of the imperial person. This last characteristic is illustrated in the following oracle dated 769, though it is, evidently, spurious. With my right arm, I shall pacify the Great Tang [China] and the Land of Silla [Korea]. With my left arm, I shall protect the imperial lineage and the court (. . .) Looking at you [Wake no Kiyomaro] I know extreme sorrow. In order to align myself with the imperial way I must cause many lives to be lost. As a consequence I am in much more pain and distress than you might be. Day after day, tears of blood stream down my chest, how distressful!104

There is little doubt that considerations such as those expressed in this oracle undergirded the atonement rituals for which the Hachiman cult became famous.

The Kunisaki Peninsula and links to Usa The Kunisaki Peninsula emerged from the Inland Sea when volcanoes erupted during the early Pleistocene period about 600,000 years ago and caused its almost perfectly circular shape to rise above sea level; further volcanic activity occurred about 250,000 years ago and caused domes to appear, subsequent to which powerful forces of erosion caused deep valleys to radiate like the spokes of a wheel from the peninsula’s twin summits, which now reach a mere 721m. Due to its marginal location and mountainous character the Kunisaki Peninsula was ignored by the network of roads established in Kyushu by the court in the late seventhth and eighth centuries, giving the impression that it was isolated, if not desolate. It had been inhabited for a long time, however, no doubt due to the fact that its rugged coastline provided good harbors and fishing grounds, while its forest-­covered slopes were home to wild boar, deer, monkeys, many species of birds, and quite a few varieties of wild flowers. Residential sites dating back to

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the Jōmon and Yayoi periods have been found along its rivers and coasts, and several groups of funeral tumuli are witnesses to the fact that the peninsula’s valleys were under control of local notables in the fifth century. Kojiki reports that the land of Kibi (in Harima Province, on the southern coast of Honshu bordering the Inland Sea) was pacified by “Emperor” Kōrei, and that his son Hikosashikata Wake, born of a union with Ō-Yamato-­kuni Arehime, was the ancestor of the omi (local ruler) of Kunisaki in Toyokuni (Buzen Province).105 As a consequence of this statement some scholars have focused their attention on the relations between the Kunisaki Peninsula and Kibi, which shortly thereafter became the site of a major oracular shrine, and they have proposed that these relations had to do with control over maritime traffic in the Inland Sea at the time of various skirmishes with the Korean Peninsula, and that the leaders of the land of Kibi often visited northern Kyushu and used Kunisaki’s Taketazu harbor as their landing site.106 Furthermore, it is intriguing to note that Takeshiuchi no Sukune, Okinaga Tarashihime’s legendary interpreter of oracles, was a son of the following “emperor,” Kōgen, and was regarded as the ancestor of the Hata, Soga, and Ki houses. We have mentioned the importance of the Soga house at the time of the introduction of Buddhism, as well as the fact that the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex was governed by ordained members of the Ki house, but it is well to emphasize that the Hata house developed both in northern Kyushu and in Yamashiro (the ancient name of the province where Kyoto is located), and that the Hata of Kyushu are said to have controlled the Karashima diviners or oracular specialists, who originally resided in the Kawara region but extended their influence to the Usa region where they eventually settled. Nihon Shoki presents a different version, stating that one of Kōrei’s sons, Hiko-­i-saseri-­hiko, was also known as Kibitsu Hiko, and that Takeshiuchi no Sukune was not Kōgen’s son, but great-­grandson.107 Furthermore, Nihon Shoki reports that a Korean envoy visited the Japanese isles at the time of “Emperor” Suinin (third generation after Kōgen), and that he attempted to pass the Shimonoseki Strait but was prevented from doing so by the ruler of Anato Province. He then sailed along the northern coast of Honshu to Tsunoga (i.e., Tsuruga, the harbor mentioned earlier in connection to the Homuda cycle), whence he proceeded to Naniwa and Yamato Province. He subsequently returned to the Korean Peninsula by way of the Inland Sea, passing by Kunisaki and its northern island, Himeshima. The Nihon Shoki narrative also says that he was granted a concubine, who mysteriously disappeared but became the kami enshrined at the Himekoso Shrine of Naniwa, as well as at the shrine bearing the same name on Himeshima Island.108 Kojiki reports a slightly different version of

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the story under the rule of King Homuda,109 while fragments of the Fudoki of Settsu Province state that the kami enshrined on Himeshima Island is of Korean origins.110 In other words, Kunisaki and its northern island, Himeshima, were written about in relation to maritime traffic and the Korean Peninsula. Kuni no Miyatsuko Hongi, a document now regarded as a moderately reliable source for the sixth century, mentions the existence in Kunisaki of a local leader named Unade.111 There is a possibility that the leaders of Kunisaki of the time were buried in the tumuli found in the northern and eastern parts of the peninsula: one of these tumuli, Onizuka kofun, dates back to the late sixth or early seventh century. This well-­preserved tumulus is set atop a hill on the northern side of the peninsula; looking north from its location, one commands views of Himeshima Island and the Inland Sea, across which the island of Honshu is visible in sharp detail (not a single ship could have passed undetected in clear weather). Turning around and looking south through the entrance of the tumulus, one can observe several valleys and ridges leading to the volcanic summits of the peninsula. Inside the tumulus are engravings of a boat and its navigator, as well as of courting birds, and archaeologists say that the Onizuka tumulus, one of eleven located on this promontory, certainly was the tomb of Kunisaki leaders.112 Regarded for centuries as an enchanting region blessed with a moderate climate and with the fruit of the sea (umi no sachi) and of the mountains (yama no sachi), the Kunisaki Peninsula has been the site of remarkable cultic practices, some of which can still be seen today, but it has also been visited by wars and devastation in the course of its long and yet poorly known history. Separated and naturally protected from the rest of Kyushu by the Tahara horst, the peninsula is visible from the clusters of the fourth-­century funeral tumuli adjacent to the Usa Shrine, and its history has long been associated with that site of cult.113 Indeed, the valleys, villages, and mountains of Kunisaki were the location of some of the oldest estates of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, and it is with them that the discussion of the region will begin. The System of Codes (ritsuryō seido) that was instituted in the seventh century provided theretofore unknown measures dealing with land possession, measurement, and taxation. Among these measures was the assignment of fields to court officials on the basis of their titles (imperial princes and holders of the first rank), or their ranks (fifth rank and above), with a clause stipulating that women were entitled to only two-­thirds the amount granted men (80 chō for imperial princes, and 8 chō for holders of the fifth rank). More precisely, these fields were known as iden (rank-­ fields) and were part of a sub-­system called yusoden, that is, fields on which a certain amount of land tax was imposed and then distributed to these officials,

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Map 5  The Kunisaki Peninsula

and of another system called fuko, estates from which the courtiers withdrew their pensions. Originally, these rank-­fields were supposed to revert to the court upon the death of their beneficiaries, but this rule was often neglected. Several Japanese historians see in this circumstance the roots of the subsequent demise of a system of unfair taxation that over-­burdened the majority of people tilling the land, and they see in the tendency to privatize these pieces of lands the beginnings of what later came to be called estates (the shō and shōen).114 A second type of system was set up for the court and for shrines and temples; in this case, rice land tax (so) was not forwarded to the court, but was to be used for the maintenance of buildings and for the economic support of ritual officiants. These fields were known as fuyusoden, that is, fields on which land tax was not imposed; with time the rank-­fields themselves came to be considered as fuyusoden. Earlier on, shrines had also been the recipients of what is known as kanbe or jinko (kami household (levies)): the shrine keepers were entitled to

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use not only the tax that normally would have been levied on these fields, but from the eighth century on they were allowed to withhold a certain number of levies in produce and handicraft (chō, yō) and corvées (zōeki) normally imposed by the court on those people to whom fields were rented. In that case the emphasis of the procedure was on human labor rather than just on land and tax, and it is perhaps possible to locate here the origins of social groups known as jinin (“kami-men”), which became directly associated with the shrine-­part of shrine-­temple complexes during the Heian period. Although there are precious few documents on the system as it was originally applied to shrines and later to temples, most scholars agree that these fields formed the basis of the estate system (shōen), which appeared during the second part of the Heian period across the country and provided the economic power of courtiers, shrine-­temple complexes, and warlords.115 Over the course of the eighth century the Usa sites of cult were granted both types of revenues, that is, the right to levy taxes that normally would have gone to the court, as well as the right to obtain further taxes, produce, various products, and corvées, which were calculated on the basis of the number of households and their members in any given area. Such grants were made for the first time in 701, when the Buddhist monk Hōren was given 40 chō of untilled fields in Buzen Province, and subsequently in 740 (at the time of Fujiwara no Hirotsugu’s rebellion), 746, 750, 755, and 769.116 There may have been others that do not appear in the available documents, because sources on the topic for the beginning of the early Heian period are especially scant. However, we know that by the twelfth century the shrines and temples of Usa had garnered a vast amount of lands in Kyushu, and that these lands were divided into three large groups about which we possess some information. It is important to emphasize at this point that the shrines and temples originally did not own land (unless they had purchased it), but that the officiants of sites of cult had the right to manage it in the name of the grantors, and to levy a certain amount of its products, thus holding a function known as “office” or “commission” (shiki).117 By the tenth century it became clear that the court had not gained full control of the country, and a number of shrine-­temple complexes began to posture as though they owned the land they managed. The first step taken in that direction by the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex was to secure funyūken (“right of non-­entry”), that is, to prevent the governor of a province from entering estates managed by shrines and temples in the name of divinities, and to prevent court officials from assessing the value of cultivated tracts and corresponding tax.

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A second step was to invoke on each parcel of land the entities of Usa and install them in a sub-­shrine usually called “Hachiman Shrine of so-­and-so estate.” This sub-­shrine was then said to provide ritual protection of the fields and their workers, and was taken care of by a number of quasi-­officiants (the jinin in charge of rites, secondary management of the land, the transportation of proceeds to the main shrines and temples of Usa, or the production of offerings in kind that were used by the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex at the time of its own, highly onerous rites). In the majority of cases Buddhist temples were built either near these sub-­shrines or on their grounds, and they vied with the sub-­shrines for control over the land and population. A third step involved using proceeds from these estates to buy more pieces of land. And a fourth step entailed convincing local land-­owners around Kyushu to place their lands in the keep of the shrine-­ temple complex in return for various guarantees of a spiritual and material nature. By systematically engaging in the four steps outlined above, the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex became the largest estate-­manager in Kyushu Island by the twelfth century, by which time it owned or managed 235 estates of variable size (by comparison, the second largest owner, the Anrakuji Shrine-­ temple complex of Dazaifu, owned 168), and it developed a rather undefined bureaucracy to manage these lands. The Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex also consolidated its sacerdotal houses, established a tribunal to settle claims—a tribunal in which Hachiman sometimes functioned as oracular judge—and produced a large number of oral and written narratives in which what it viewed as the etiological factors that had led to the creation of shrines and temples and their wealth were presented as the result of Hachiman’s supernatural providence.118 As Inoue Satoshi has shown, land administration in Kyushu evolved in three stages: first, between the 1040s and the 1120s, the accumulation of land estates. Second, from the 1120s to 1156, the appearance of estates called tsunemimyō, passed down by the imperial house and the court and supposedly under control of Dazaifu—but the Usa Hachiman complex managed to skirt that control. The third stage began in 1156, when under protection of the Taira house the Usa complex was able to claim these estates as its property.119 By the year 1185, the court owned only about one third of the land in the Japanese isles; the remaining two thirds were domains of shrine-­temple complexes and warlords. In Kyushu as well as in other parts of the country, regional would-­be theocracies and their supporting apparatus seem to have been in the making but were challenged and partly destroyed by a rising class of warlords whose allegiance to the court or to the complexes was less than evident.

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Compiled at the beginning of the thirteenth century, the Great Mirror of the Divine Estates of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple Complex (Hachiman Usagū Goshinryō Ōkagami) mentions only 115 of the 235 estates managed by the Usa Hachiman complex and scattered nearly all over Kyushu. These estates were grouped by the author of the document in four types corresponding to their origins.120 The first group had its origins in imperial gifts of the Nara period; called jūgōsankashō, it consisted of thirteen estates (shō) containing some 640 farming households, and located in ten districts (jūgō) in the three provinces (sanka) of Buzen, Bungo, and Hyūga. The second group was called motomishō jūhakkashō and consisted of eighteen estates granted for the most part during the Heian period as iden (rank-­fields), or as fields whose revenue or produce was to fulfill the shrine-­temple complex’s needs for regular offerings; these were scattered in the provinces of Buzen, Hizen, and Chikugo.121 Their origins and functions varied. The third group was called kuniguni sanzai tsunemimyōden and consisted of at least thirty-­one and at most ninety small-­scale estates that had been commended to the Usa Shrine’s head officiant by various notables from all Kyushu provinces (with the exception of the southernmost Satsuma and Ōsumi provinces). According to Inoue Satoshi, again, after 1185 (when the Taira house disappeared and the Minamoto and Hōjō houses ruled from Kamakura), the Usa Shrine-­temple complex began to split these estates to let the officiants’ daughters inherit them (a practice known as bessōden shoryō), and this practice eventually led to the loss of unified control.122 To return to the Great Mirror, yet another fifty estates (other sources mention the existence of 114) fell under the exclusive control of the Mirokuji Temple, but fifteen of these were grouped separately under the name “Fifteen estates of Urabe” (Urabe jūgokashō) and were located in the western half of the Kunisaki Peninsula (with the exception of three estates located outside of the peninsula proper, but next to the Tahara horst).123 The Tashibu estate belonging to the second group mentioned above, located on the western end of the Kunisaki Peninsula, was if not the oldest one of the earliest estates of the Usa Hachiman complex; it has been and continues to be the object of studies by historians and archaeologists.124 Situated directly east of the foot of the Saieizan Massif, it is one of Japan’s oldest shrine-­temple estates that have been least disturbed by modernization, and traces of the spatial organization of its tracts (jōri) are still clear even though recent urban development has taken its toll in places. Some of the peninsula’s oldest shrines and temples still stand in its midst (the Fukiji Temple, a National Treasure, the Makiōdō Temple famous for its esoteric statues, and the huge Kumano Cliff

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engravings, all of the Heian period), and an unusually large number of documents (more than 700) provide glimpses of the development and functioning of estates in the area. Early on in its history the Tashibu estate was protected by the Hachiman Motomiya Shrine, still graced today by cliff engravings of Tamon ten, Kongara dōji, Fudō myōō, Seitaka dōji, Jikoku ten, and Jizō bosatsu. Upon receipt of an oracle in 1351, however, two more Hachiman shrines were erected on the estate: the Ninomiya and Sannomiya Shrines. Hachiman is referred therein as suijin (water kami), and the shrines are located in the proximity of the Katsura and Osaki rivers, whose water was used for irrigating fields opened for cultivation in the fourteenth century. At the time of crop gathering a major ritual festivity (matsuri) was organized: it involved much drinking, dances, linked-­verse (renga) composition, and the boisterous carrying of three portable shrines, all of which led to the characterization of the event as a “brawl festivity,” (kenka matsuri).125 The Fukiji Temple was built in the middle of the twelfth century; because it is the only building of the Heian period remaining in Kyushu, it is one of the great reasons for local pride and is today a National Treasure on the basis of its architectural grace and antiquity, its inner wall paintings represent the Pure Lands of the Buddha Amida, Yakushi (the Buddha of Medicine), Miroku (the Buddha of the future), and Shakamuni (the historical Buddha). It must have been constructed on orders of the Usa Hachiman leading sacerdotal house, which granted the temple tax-­exempt estates for its support in 1223. The fact that the leading sacerdotal officiant at the time, Usa no Kiminaka, was in close contact with the Fujiwara regency may explain the clear influence of Fujiwara iconography and style on the temple.126 The Tashibu estate belonged to the Usa Shrine, however, whereas the fifteen Urabe estates under consideration belonged to the Mirokuji and Nakatsuoji Temples of the Usa Shrine-­temple complex. The Urabe estates covered nearly half the peninsula and were all located in its northern valleys as well as on its western and southern parts, and seem to have been established around the middle of the Heian period.127 The easternmost part of the peninsula consisted of rice fields (kokugaryō) owned by the Bungo Province government, whose seat was located near present-­day Ōita City, as well as of some Usa Hachiman shrine estates.128 Each of the fifteen Urabe estates of Kunisaki was protected by a shrine (many of which can be seen today), and each was also the site of one or more Buddhist temples (some of which were destroyed between 1868 and 1875). It was, obviously, in conjunction with the establishment of these estates that the Kunisaki Peninsula evolved its exceptional culture during the Heian period,

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even if the right to management on the part of the Mirokuji Temple was called into question several times during the twelfth century. It is said that the monk Saichō visited Usa in 803 on his way to China and again in 814 to lecture on the Lotus Sutra, and that his visits were what caused the Mirokuji and Nakatsuoji abbots of the Usa Shrine-­temple complex to opt to affiliate themselves with the Tendai denomination. As it evolved after Saichō’s death, the ritual, doctrinal, economic and political system commonly referred to as Tendai consisted of at least three types of cultic trends. First, an emphasis on Esoteric Buddhism, already visible in Saichō’s time, but ever more pronounced thereafter; second, an emphasis on the Lotus Sutra and its commentaries, and third, a systematic development of the Sannō cult, a set of combinations proposed during the late Heian period to explain the relations between the various Buddhist deities installed in the main temples of Mount Hiei in Kyoto and the various kami enshrined in the Hie Shrines located on the western shore of Lake Biwa, at the foot of the mountain.129 As a consequence of the Mirokuji Temple’s affiliation with Mount Hiei’s establishments and with the Iwashimizu Shrine-­temple complex, the cultic and cultural system of the Kunisaki Peninsula evolved under these three trends. However, the rather intense maritime traffic across the Inland Sea also caused the introduction of cultural elements that had originated in other parts of Japan, and the people of Kunisaki absorbed these various cultural influxes, especially in the realm of Shugendō. We must return to geography to better understand the developmental processes of Kunisaki as a cultic region. As stated earlier, the sacred mountain of the Usa Hachiman Shrine was Mount Omoto (Maki); the Kunisaki Peninsula itself is separated from Mount Omoto by a massif that came to be called Saieizan “Western Mount Hiei,” which is part of the Tahara horst that marks the southwest limit of the peninsula. One might be tempted to think of Kunisaki as the peninsula proper, but the Saieizan Massif and the Kunisaki Peninsula formed together a single cultural/cultic entity that was directly related to the Usa Hachiman cult and Mount Omoto, and to the various cultic trends mentioned above. It seems that leaders of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex erected eight Buddhist temples on and around this Saieizan Massif at about the beginning of the Heian period, subsequently another twenty temples were built on the peninsula proper, and that by the end of the Heian period these twenty-­eight temples came to be conceived of as a single unit called Rokugō Manzan, “Conglomerate of the Six Districts,” an appellation in which Rokugō refers to the six administrative districts of the Kunisaki Peninsula.130

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Map 6  The twenty-­eight temples of Kunisaki

These features, however, should not blind us to another aspect of northern Kyushu at the time: the Kunisaki Peninsula was not only a geographical region where land was developed to produce rice, millet, and vegetables; it was also developed by fishing and shipping industries and it would be quite wrong to view it solely as a land mass on which all relevant historical events took place. It is interesting, in this respect, that documents of the time make no distinction between farmers and fishermen; this is an important feature of social and economic organization that was pointed out only recently by Amino Yoshihiko.131 The earliest extant historical reference to Rokugō as a unified system of shrines and temples is dated 1135.132 Nijūhachi Honzan Mokuroku (“Index of the Twenty-­ eight Main Temples”) is dated 1168 and, if authentic, may have been authored by the head sacerdotal officiant of the Usa Hachiman Shrine at the time, Usa no Kimifusa; the document lists sixty-­nine temples subdivided into three groups.133 The Kunisaki traditions, which are all based on etiological narratives that were

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Table 1  List of the twenty-­eight temples in Kunisaki Kongōji Reikiji Hōonji Jingūji Suigetsuji Kōzanji Chionji Denjōji Futagoji Tennenji Chōanji Michiwakidera Gokokuji Honshōbō Mudōji Ōrekiji Sentoji Tōkōji Tōkōji (not same as above) Jingūji Iwatoji Monjusenji Reisenji Hōmeiji Jōbutsuji Gyōnyūji Seijōkōji Seiganji

First: eight upper

Second: ten central

Third: ten lower

Source: Nakano Hatayoshi, (ed.), Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū, 2 vols. Volume 2, pp.  716–7 (Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kōbunkan, 1975).

produced much later, claim that the associated shrines and temples were created in the early eighth century by a reincarnation of Hachiman named Great Bodhisattva Ninmon (Ninmon daibosatsu), who would have been accompanied in his endeavors by four monks. The same claim is found in the etiological records (engi) of Mount Hiko and Usa. We now know, however, that this was not the case. The Kunisaki sites of cult were established over a period of time that goes from the early ninth to the late twelfth century, and their establishment was dependent on the formation of the Urabe estates garnered by the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex (predominantly by its Buddhist temples), and it was also dependent on other commendations made by courtiers. Moreover, while it seems

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that many Kunisaki “temples” were originally mere hermitages erected at the entrances of caves in which a variety of anchorites engaged in austerities, we do not know whether these anchorites were permanent residents of the peninsula, or visitors from Mount Hiko and other Shugendō centers. Beyond the late narratives that have survived to this day, no written source enables us to characterize these anchorites’ practices in detail. Japanese scholars have made several suggestions regarding the figure called “Great Bodhisattva Ninmon,” alleged founding patriarch (kaizan) of the system. Nakano Hatayoshi views Ninmon as the fusion of several scattered “historical” figures conjoined with the Buddhist apotheosis of Hime-ō-­kami (i.e. Himegami, the kami enshrined in second position at Usa) and the deified spirit of King Homuda; I could not find any document providing the rationale Nakano might have been following in making this assertion.134 Murakami Shigeyoshi writes that Ninmon is the Buddhist conformation of Hachiman’s mother, but I have not found any pre-­modern source that backs this claim, or anything that might explain the sex change of the deity.135 A more recent publication edited by the Usa Historical and Ethnographic Documentation Museum proposes a more attractive theory, to the effect that the name Ninmon refers to a fusion of several mountain practitioners who might have been active in Kunisaki before the unification of the peninsula’s temples in the twelfth century.136 One reason why this suggestion is attractive is that, before 1185, there was no overwhelming compulsion to establish “founding patriarchs.” Such a compulsion appeared after many cultic, political, and economic systems such as the Kunisaki Peninsula were disturbed by warlord invasions and destructions, and after cohesive narratives grounded in specific conceptions of history and their attendant emphases on origins and founders helped efforts to gather the funds necessary to rebuild those temples and shrines that had been destroyed or had gradually lost their economic base and thus deteriorated. The same is true of Mount Hiko and of the majority of sites of cult around Japan. Historical reality may appear to be at a variance with the claims made in these narratives, but it is closely related to the spatial and territory-­building processes which will be discussed in more detail later on, and it may be worth suggesting now that the “traditions” found in these narratives do not simply present the modern reader with warped images of an idealized past. They seem to offer, rather, insights into local understandings that were generated once these processes had achieved completion or closure, at a time when cultic institutions and their economic base were threatened with total destruction by warlords who were about to radically change the estate system on which cultic sites such as the Rokugō Conglomerate of Kunisaki had been built.

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This does not mean that one cannot speculate on the presence and identity of mountain practitioners in Kunisaki during the Heian period, for the archaeological record, at least, provides clear proof that the peninsula was replete with sites of cult at the time. Furthermore, whatever sites of cult had evolved in Kunisaki during the Heian period were put under the administrative control of the Mudōji Temple of Mount Hiei in 1123, so that the 1168 document mentioned above may be a reflection of that control. Kunisaki, thus, might have evolved slowly under various influences, first, from “self-­ordained monks” (shidosō), whose presence in Buzen Province is attested to as early as 702, and second, from practitioners of the nearby and closely interconnected mountain cults of Hiko, Hachimen (not to be confused with Hachiman), Kubote, and Omoto; and third, that of Kumano Shugendō.137 The Nara period had seen the appearance of a rather large number of self-­ordained monks, who often were individuals who had left cities and the countryside’s fields to avoid military conscription or the census that inevitably would have resulted in higher taxes over the fields tilled by their families; they tended to live as recluses in mountains and to engage in practices that were informed by early esoteric documents, by a more or less vague knowledge of Daoism and, some say, by early Japanese nature worship (about which there is little or no information). Indeed, En no Gyōja, whose name appears in official documents when, in 699, he was accused of plotting against the imperial throne, was one such figure in Yamato; he is described in Nihon Ryōiki (ca. 820) as a person engaging in Daoist practices and Buddhist esoteric rites. Centuries later, the practitioners of Shugendō at large, including those of Mount Hiko and Kunisaki, viewed him as their founding patriarch.138 There is little doubt that the mountains of Kyushu were inhabited by such figures, whose practices came to be subjected to the powerful influence of Esoteric Buddhism which undergirded the formation of mountain cultic systems in the ninth century. Naturally, the participants in the Hiko, Usa, and Kunisaki sites of cult viewed Hōren as the quintessential eighth-­century figure of the kind, and portrayed him as one of En no Gyōja’s disciples after the cult dedicated to En no Gyōja came to be established in the region by Kumano mountain ascetics, that is, around the late twelfth century. The inhabitants of the Kunisaki Peninsula, however, crafted their cult’s own founder (the Great Bodhisattva Ninmon), and in this way distinguished themselves from their neighbors in Usa and Hiko, even if it is true that they regarded Ninmon as an incarnation of Hachiman at the time. It is also possible to speculate that Japanese mountains had by the eighth century become ideal sites of practice for ascetic figures of mixed intellectual and social backgrounds, who viewed mountains with what appears to be a

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combination of awe, anxiety, and desire. The moment they accepted Buddhism and its moral parameters as their main world of reference, however, and the moment they became dependent on estates and agriculture for their survival, these figures were bound to come into problematic contact with the peninsula’s residents who had been active there before the introduction of Buddhism, and who predominantly viewed mountains and seas in other economic terms: the fishermen who were guided by pyres lit at the summit of mountains, the slash-­and-burn cultivators who lived on the lower slopes of the peninsula, and the hunters who roamed the forests and hills. State-­sponsored Buddhist institutions, however, included in their territory-­making strategies the Buddhist prohibition to kill animate beings. This prohibition was used to convert hunters and make them change their occupation, which may go a long way to explain the low social status of fishermen and hunters, and the almost ubiquitous presence of hunters in medieval legends narrating the origins of mountain sites of cult, across the country.139 Once this oppositional rapport was resolved or brought into a zone of acceptable social constraints based on the fundamental opposition between purity and pollution, the conceptualization of mountainous regions was radically transformed. Mountains came to be seen as a source of spiritual life, at the same time as they were regarded as producers of the water needed for wet paddy rice farming—the main objective of the new estate managers. As a consequence, mountains were conceived in a manner hitherto unknown: as peaks to be scaled, as providers of unlimited vistas and visions of the universe, and as ideal sites for seclusion and spiritual cultivation. Their valleys were deforested by the new managers of temple-­owned estates to make space for wet paddy fields. The mountains nonetheless maintained their character as regenerative powers linked to clouds, rain, and fertility, although the Buddhist practitioners and rituals went on to dominate both the production of the mythology of fertility and the producers of food and raw materials for the support of temples. This new conceptualization of a mystical world of mountains is best expressed in the earliest extant Japanese document providing details on the ascent of a mountain for spiritual purposes. This remarkable document was authored in 814 by Kūkai, the founder of Shingon Esoteric Buddhism; it describes the ascent of Mount Futara (Mount Nantai in Nikkō) by the monk Shōdō, and provides a most eloquent model of (and model for) mountain ritual practices at the time and thereafter, so it is proper to read short parts of it. [In Shimotsuke Province there] is a mountain called Fudaraku, whose peaks soar into the Milky Way and whose snow-­covered summit touches the emerald confines of the heavens. Bearing in its bosom the roaring thunder that marks the

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Mountain Mandalas cadence of passing hours, it is the abode of the Phoenix, twisted like the horn of a mountain goat. Rare is the presence of demons, and none the traces of human steps. [. . .] The monk Shōdō moved across the flashing snows and trampled the young leaves shining like jewels [. . .] and finally came to see the summit. [. . .] Without needing the Divine Eye, Shōdō could see as far as ten thousand leagues. [. . .] The mirror-­like surface of the lake, being selfless, could not but reflect the ten thousand phenomena, and this reflection of mountains and lakes was enough to leave Shōdō breathless. [. . .] Five-­colored flowers mixed their hues on a single branch, and the birds chanting away the hours united their different voices into one single melody. White cranes danced on the shores, blue geese fluttered on the water. The flapping of their wings echoed like chimes in the crisp air, their voices resounded like gems striking one another. The breaths of Heaven used the pine trees as lutes, the rolling waves used the pebbles as drums. Thus the five keynotes played forth the Heavenly Harmony, and the Eight Qualities of the water were secured in its calmness. [. . .] In this supreme environment Shōdō decided to build a temple, to which he gave the name Jingūji. There he lived and practiced the Way during four years, at the end of which [788] the temple was moved to the northern shore of the lake, which had beautiful sands and whence the view to the four directions was free of any obstacle. [. . .] In the second year of the Daidō era [807], there was a drought in the province: the Governor ordered Shōdō to perform rainmaking rituals, and the Master carried them out on top of Mount Fudaraku. Space was immediately filled with the sweet nectar of rain, and the crops were abundant and rich.140

This document points to a sensibility that was informed by Chinese culture and by Buddhism, and Kūkai—a man who had spent parts of his youth engaging in austerities in the mountains of his native island of Shikoku and who had apparently been a self-­ordained monk for some time, and eventually became one of Japan’s most revered figures—provides us with the best example of the directions taken by mountain cults at the time: seclusion, visionary experience, and rainmaking. The point, however, is that temples on or near the grounds of shrines (jingūji), such as that mentioned in the text presented above, were built during the eighth century on mountains as far north as Nikkō and Tsukuba, as close to the political center as Mounts Hiei and Kōyasan, and as far west as Mount Hōman and around Usa—and that they were all built by Buddhist monks, and more often than not by Hossō monks.141 While it is probable indeed that some inhabitants of these regions at the time considered mountains to be the abodes of entities that needed pacification because of their usually fierce and frightening character, there is no evidence that these mountains were the objects of austere ascents or of seclusion on the part of anyone before Daoism-­inspired figures and

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Buddhist monks began to do so. It is quite clear, however, that such was the case by the middle of the Heian period, for two important documents of the time provide abundant proof to this effect: the Honchō Shinsenden gives evidence on Daoism-­inspired ascetics, while the Dainihonkoku Hokekyō Kenki (also known as Hokkegenki) offers clear and detailed information on devotees of the Lotus Sutra (jikyōsha) who chose mountains near and far to engage in a variety of austerities.142 The Dainihonkoku Hokekyō Kenki is particularly interesting because it portrays many taimitsu thaumaturgists who searched for longevity in the mountains: some spent time in temporary seclusion, in the practice of esoteric rituals, or in study, in the hope that they might gain special powers; they ate nuts and herbs, drank from rivers and sources, dressed in simple garb, and were served fruit and nuts by wild animals; or they engaged in long fasts, while others lived as total recluses and even stopped eating altogether: others would find later their corpses, still chanting the Lotus Sutra. There is little question that many of these jikyōsha were sorts of early and independent yamabushi; in any case, their presence is attested from southernmost Kyushu to the northern reaches of Honshu; some traveled extensively, spreading information about mountain cults. They tended to develop strong, mystically charged devotions to the Lotus Sutra as well as to individual members of the Buddhist pantheon, while they also addressed themselves fervently to a variety of kami. Indeed, they may have been among the strongest popularizers of combined cults during the Heian period, just like the Kōya hijiri, attached to Kōyasan, were in a later period. In the case of the Kunisaki Peninsula we have no information on the entities that might have been objects of cult—if there ever were any—before the establishment of hermitages by such itinerant figures, but mountain asceticism there appears to have been a Buddhist project informed by continental thought and practices, even though it tended to focus on mountains that may have been the objects of pre-Buddhist cults—about which there is little or no detailed information. Moreover, the presence of these figures and the subsequent creation of Shugendō institutions on these mountains changed in a radical fashion whatever original character they may have displayed earlier. Some ancient inhabitants of Japan, for instance, may have considered mountains to be the abode of one or several kami, a fact that is evidenced by the excavation of plates for offerings and of other cultic implements placed in the proximity of stone groupings on mountain summits, such as Mount Omoto and several in Kunisaki and Mount Hiko, or on islands, such as those associated with the Munakata cult. Once Buddhist itinerant figures penetrated these mountains, however, they created a new vocabulary, superimposed new “readings” on natural

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objects, sculpted megaliths and trees to represent Buddhist divinities, developed peregrinatory practices, and established permanent or semi-­permanent sites of seclusion. In other words, they changed the landscape, by which is meant that they also radically changed the ways in which mountains were conceptualized and experienced, and their presence and activities might have erased memories and traces of pre-­existing cults, only to re-­invent them at a later date. The Kunisaki Peninsula and Mount Hiko are prime examples of a phenomenon that, like the rest of Shugendō sites of cult, evolved slowly over the entirety of the Heian period, but the paucity of records concerning their early history is frustrating. Written sources on the history of Kunisaki are rare, and the oldest extant etiological narrative dates back to the eighteenth century.143 The reasons for the dearth of sources on the region range from the destructions caused by warlords of the medieval period to the no-­less consummate destructions caused by the government’s separation of kami and Buddha cults in 1868. One reason for the geographical dispersion and present location of these sources is that Kunisaki came under direct control of Mount Hiei in 1123, while the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex was controlled by the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, and while Mount Hiko was placed in quasi-­entrustment to the Shōgo-­in of Kyoto in 1181.144 Nakano Hatayoshi has suggested that the mountain cults of Kunisaki were created by ordained members of the Usa sacerdotal house around the middle of the ninth century, and most traditional narratives claim that the sites of cult were created at the beginning of the eighth century.145 The first shrine of Usa had its own jingūji, the Mirokuji Temple, and the combined shrine-­temple complex quickly became an immense institution which, by the year 852, included the Upper Shrines on Ogura Hill, the Lower Shrines, and the Wakamiya Shrine set immediately to the west of the Upper Shrines, a variety of smaller shrines, the residences of the sacerdotal houses, and the sprawling Mirokuji Temple, which eventually included dozens of halls, pagodas, residential halls, refectories, and other buildings such as sutra repositories and bell-­towers. After the second shrine, dedicated to Hime-ō-­kami, was erected in 734, another jingūji, originally named Hime Jingūji but later renamed Nakatsuoji, was erected as its counterpart in Usa between 767 and 771 by Usa no Ikemori; not surprisingly, this jingūji was originally affiliated with the Hossō school of Buddhism, but an oracle granted to Jintai, the second abbot of the temple in the early ninth century, expressed the Great Bodhisattva Hachiman’s wish to see the affiliation of the temple changed to Tendai (the Nakatsuoji chose to be affiliated with Shingon in 972).146

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About a century later, says Nakano, a temple named Ryōzenji was erected near the summit of Mount Omoto, and another temple named Shōkakuji was built on the slopes of the mountain by a certain Gyōshū. The Usa sacerdotal house then began to build temples at the foot and on the summits of the neighboring Saieizan Massif, projecting its influence in the easterly direction onto the Kunisaki Peninsula via its growing land holdings. The source used most extensively by Nakano to discuss Kunisaki is the fourteenth-­century Compendium of Hachiman Oracles mentioned earlier; according to this document a certain Nōgyō, who was an ordained member of the Usa house, secluded himself in 825 on the western slopes of the Saieizan Massif at a site called Tsuwado Mountain (present-­day Suigetsuji Temple) where in 855 he received from Hachiman an oracle revealing to him the proper course to follow in the ritual peregrination on the peninsula.147 An earlier text, Ninmon Bosatsu Chōki, dated 1152, mentions only Hōren, Kyūmon, Kekin, Tainō, and Kakuman, among whom only Hōren, Tainō, and Kakuman are mentioned in the other sources.148 It is clear, however, that the Tsuwado site of cult is ancient: an urn containing Buddhist scriptures, the oldest found so far in the region, was interred there in 1083; recently excavated, it bears an inscription stating that the author of the Buddhist vow for whom the urn was made was a member of the Usa Shrine’s sacerdotal lineage, Usa no Kimiai.149 In 829 the Mirokuji Temple was assigned for the first time in its history a “master of lectures” (kōshi), that is, a scholarly monk. As a consequence, Esoteric Buddhism began to spread in the region while monks were able to receive proper training as well as advanced education; this was a successful investment, for an ordained member of the Usa sacerdotal house, Gikai, became in 940 the abbot (zasu) of Mount Hiei in Kyoto, and it is probable that Tendai Esoteric Buddhism came to dominate Kyushu under his tenure, although we saw that Shingon Esoteric Buddhism was also present at the Nakatsuoji Temple since 972. It is therefore possible, if not probable, that the eight Buddhist hermitages of the Saieizan Massif were erected in the course of the ninth and tenth centuries: the Kongōji dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine, Yakushi nyorai; the Reikiji dedicated to the Buddha of the Western Pure Land, Amida nyorai; the Hōonji dedicated to the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Shō-Kannon bosatsu; the Jingūji dedicated, it seems, to the Horse-­headed Bodhisattva of Compassion, Batō Kannon; the Suigetsuji dedicated to the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Kanzeon bosatsu; the Takayamadera dedicated to the Buddha of medicine, Yakushi nyorai; the Chionji, also dedicated to the Buddha of medicine; and the Denjōji dedicated to the Buddha Amida. These eight temples were referred to by the term Motoyama (Primary Temples) in the document dated 1168.

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A second phase began in the early eleventh century, when the economic base of Usa became more secure, and it led to the construction of ten temples in the three districts that cover the western half of the peninsula. These are the Futagoji dedicated to the Thousand-­handed Bodhisattva of Compassion, Senju Kannon; the Tennenji dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine; the Chōanji dedicated to the Thousand-­handed Bodhisattva of Compassion, Senju Kannon, or, alternatively, to the Bodhisattva of Wisdom, Samantabhadra (Fugen bosatsu); the Michiwakidera dedicated to the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Shō-Kannon; the Gokokuji dedicated, it seems, to the Bodhisattva of Compassion (Kannon); the Honshōbō (Tamonji) dedicated to the Horse-­headed Bodhisattva of Compassion, Batō Kannon; the Mudōji dedicated to the Buddha of medicine; the Ōrekiji dedicated to the Thousand-­handed Bodhisattva of Compassion; the Sentōji dedicated to the same Bodhisattva; and the Tōkōji dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine. These ten temples were known as Nakayama (Intermediate Temples). Finally, a third group including ten temples was established in the remaining three eastern districts of Kunisaki. These are the Tōkōji (not the same as above) dedicated to the Buddha of the Western Pure Land, Amida nyorai; the Jingūji dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine; the Iwatoji, also dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine; the Monjusenji dedicated to the Bodhisattva of Wisdom (Monju bosatsu); the Reisenji dedicated to the Thousand-­handed Bodhisattva of Compassion; the Hōmeiji dedicated to the Six Bodhisattvas of Compassion (Roku Kannon); the Jōbutsuji dedicated to the Buddha of the Western Pure Land; the Gyōnyūji dedicated to the King of Sapience Acala (Fudō myōō); the Seijōkōji dedicated to the Bodhisattva of Compassion Enhancing Longevity (Enmyō Kannon); and the Seiganji dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine. These ten temples were known as Sueyama (Last Temples). These twenty-­eight temple-­ hermitages and the forty-­one sub-­temples and sub-­shrines they accrued over time were referred to, during the medieval period, as Rokugō Manzan, “The Conglomerate of the Six Districts.” We will return to them later.

Mount Hiko The main river of northern Kyushu is the Onga, which takes its source northwest of Mount Hiko, and its main feeder is the Hiko River, which takes its source on the southern flank of Mount Hiko. The Munakata Shrines are located near the mouth of the Onga River, and the Onga Basin, which stretches between the Munakata Shrines and the vicinity of Mount Hiko. These rivers fertilized

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the plains that came to be settled by people of continental origins, who probably worshipped Mount Hiko because of its water-­generating powers. Mount Hiko itself is 1,200m high, rather steep; consisting of a multitude of varied layers of volcanic materials, its massive shape dominates northern Kyushu, and its triple summit was the meeting point of three provincial boundaries (today, of two disputed prefectural boundaries). While Mount Hiko may have been a site of cult from early times on and for a number of centuries that is difficult to ascertain, its name appears only indirectly in historical documents in Engi Shiki (Procedures of the Engi Era), completed in 927 and promulgated in 967, in which the following is noted: “Tagawa District: Karakuni-Okinaga-­ohime-ōma-­no-­mikoto Shrine; Oshihone-­no-mikoto Shrine; Toyohime-­no-mikoto Shrine.”150 This compendious statement is instructive, albeit in a diacritic manner, because it does not mention Mount Hiko by name and passes Buddhism under silence, even though Buddhist institutions were, as was indicated earlier, dominating the area at the time. The first shrine mentioned in this record is located, not on Mount Hiko, but on Mount Kawara (north of Mount Hiko), and it is worth mentioning that the thirteenth-­century etiological record Hikosan Ruki suggestively reports that foreign deities first attempted to take residence on Mount Kawara but were prevented from doing so by its landlord kami (jinushigami), against which they retaliated by cutting all the mountain’s trees, probably to use them to build temples on Mount Hiko, to which they then proceeded and where they took residence. The kami of Mount Kawara is of foreign origin too, since its name is preceded by “Karakuni,” a term which may refer to Korea—although that is not always the case, for it may refer to southern Kyushu as well. Buzen no Kuni Fudoki Itsubun reports that a deity of the kingdom of Silla in the Korean Peninsula came of its own to Mount Kawara, that its name was Kawaru (meaning “iron village” in Korean), and that copper was found there.151 The area became a major site of mining for the ore used in making weapons, and it seems that the sacerdotal officiants of the Kawara sanctuary were the Karashima ritualists who eventually ended up in Usa. However, the inclusion of the name Okinaga, mentioned earlier in the discussion of Usa, must also be underlined; the personal name of Jingū Kōgō was Okinaga Tarashihime-­ no-mikoto, a compound in which Tarashi was a personal and rather common name, and in which Okinaga was the family name. Furthermore, the recitals related to Okinaga Tarashihime and forming the basis of the Homuda cycle of myths were in all probability a part of oral traditions belonging to this Okinaga family (whose territorial stronghold was located on the eastern shores of lake

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Biwa), itself related to sea-­people, and who gave birth to several empresses. The second kami mentioned in the Procedures of the Engi Era is Oshihone-­ no-mikoto, one of the several kami produced during the course of the symbolic incest between Amaterasu and her brother, Susano-­o.152 A later tradition of the Kawara Shrine, of uncertain date, speculates that only the “violent” spirit (ara-­ mitama) of Oshihone-­no-mikoto is enshrined on Mount Kawara—while its “peaceful” spirit (nigi-­mitama) moved to the “southern mountain,” that is (so Nagano Tadashi argues), Mount Hiko.153 The third kami mentioned in the Engi Procedures, Toyohime-­no-mikoto, is directly related to the Munakata Shrine; the three female kami of this shrine were also an offspring of Amaterasu and Susanoo’s symbolic incest, and the ancient Munakata cult comprises three sanctuaries located on Kyushu Island’s northern shore and on two islands off-­shore. The Hiko cult evolved in an intriguing but rather obscure relation to the Munakata cults; the first sign of this intriguing aspect is that subsequent documents say that the Munakata kami left Mount Hiko (where it is claimed they were originally enshrined) for the Munakata Shrines located near the mouth of the Onga River. Two of the three peaks of Mount Hiko were subsequently regarded as residences of Izanagi and Izanami, the kami described in imperial mythology as the progenitors of the Japanese archipelago. In other words, prior to the tenth century nothing is known about the identity of the kami that might have been objects of a cult on Mount Hiko; or, if it is true that Mount Hiko was a sanctuary dedicated to the Munakata kami, then we may propose that Buddhism displaced them (that is, displaced the communities worshipping them). The document purported to be the oldest detailed reference to Mount Hiko, Hikosanki, is attributed to Tachibana no Masamichi, although its authenticity is debatable;154 said to date back to the late tenth or early eleventh century (Masamichi was a government official visiting Dazaifu on his way to the Korean Peninsula), it mentions the presence of several kami on the mountain, and suggests that some of these kami were renamed:

1. North Peak was the residence of Ōnamuchi no mikoto and the three Munakata female kami: Tagorihime, Nagitsuhime, and Ichi-Kishimahime. 2. A radiance said to have shot forth through the sky from the western direction landed on South Peak and produced an eight-­faceted, five-­colored crystal, onto which a goshawk [ōtaka] descended. Three kami named Ten-­taishi [a Daoist name?], Hiko [a solar entity], and Mizuha-­no-me no mikoto [an important water kami] then made their apppearance, at which point Ōnamuchi ceded North Peak to these kami.

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3. Then appeared “yin and yang kami,” later identified as Izanami [enshrined on Central Peak] and Izanagi [enshrined on South Peak]. 4. Under a rock Kikurihime [of Mount Hakusan], and Musubi-­tama-nomikoto appeared. 5. Ōnamuchi then left Mount Hiko and moved to its foot, where it founded a Tagori-sha [Toyohime Shrine], which was moved later to the Kobi Shrine of Mount Konomi near Munakata. Hikosanki is a questionable document, however, because it does not mention the Buddhist cults that must have existed on the mountain by the time it was supposedly compiled, and the only conclusion left is that the identity of Mount Hiko’s “native” kami (if there were any before the introduction of Buddhism) is a matter of total conjecture prior to the twelfth century. Incidentally, this presumed incongruity may help explain why Izanami and Izanagi, who have little connection to Kyushu, are identified as two of Mount Hiko’s three kami.155 It has been suggested, however, that Buddhism was present on Mount Hiko since ancient times because an inscribed urn, dated 1516 and excavated in October 1982 on North Peak, contained a Korean bronze statue of the Buddha dating back to the period of the unification of Silla in the eighth century.156 This statue has been identified as representing a nyorai (tathāgata), and the inscription on the urn was signed by a certain Keishun of Echigo Province, who resided at Tsūzōbō Hall on Mount Hiko at the time. This inscription merely states that the statue miraculously “surfaced” on North Peak, and that Keishun reinterred it in the hope that his vows might be fulfilled during this lifetime and his next life. Unless future archaeological finds prove otherwise, all that can be said at the present point is that it is not known when Mount Hiko was made into a Buddhist stronghold, even though the oldest Buddhist cult there was dedicated to the Buddha of the Future, a phenomenon typical of Silla Buddhism in the eighth-­ century and also visible at the Mirokuji Temple of Usa. Indeed, one scholar proposed that the Buddhist cult on Mount Hiko was under the direct influence of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex.157 The oldest extant etiological record of Mount Hiko (Hikosan Ruki) is said to date back to 1213.158 It states that the first ascent of Mount Hiko was accomplished by a hunter named Fujiwara Kōyū (or Tsuneo) about whom it gives few details, and presents the mountain in the following manner. The pines hanging over the cliffs of this mountain are dense and flourishing, and the wind resonates through their branches, clear as the strumming on a zither; thick creeping plants are scattered all over, polished by radiant dew while the

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Mountain Mandalas roofs of the temples are stroked by clouds. The large bells’ ample resonance can be heard from a great distance while small bells calling monks to meditation ring out six times a day, intimating that invocations and rites are to be performed diligently day and night, and that everyone on this mountain must observe monastic discipline. Recitations of the sextuple invocations trickle down the mountain’s valleys so that they may save the multitude of living beings who are bound by attachments that cause suffering. The rites performed during the three divisions of the day protect lay devotees in all directions: even though these people might not be reborn in the Tosotsu heaven [where the Buddha of the Futur resides], may they at the time of their rebirth hear voices chanting the need to destroy [. . .] false views. Mount Hiko’s Upper Sanctuary is located about thirty-­six chō from the residents’ houses and temples. The River of Purification, Harai no Kawa, issues in the proximity of Nyotai Peak. Pilgrims high and low who cleanse themselves therein wash away all sins and pollutions encountered in transmigration, and thus get closer to the treasured pagoda of awakening; its source is referred to as the awe-­inspiring pond of eight virtues. Close to it is a torii [shrine gate]; a distance of six chō separates it from Ōminami Cave, which marks the boundaries of a zone of twenty chō chosen by divination and in which it is prohibited to produce excrements of any sort, or to spit or blow one’s nose. [. . .] Forty-­nine precious caves are located all around this mountain. The tiled roofs of temples are pressed against each other, and more than two hundred halls for meditation are as though scattered about: one may here envision the splendor of the Pure Lands of various Buddhas, where bejeweled pavilions are as numerous as the stars. The Three Avatars are enshrined in these forty-­nine caves, together with the multitude of Adamantine Youths attending them. In Kōnin 10 [819] under the reign of Emperor Saga, the third abbot of Mount Hiko, Hōren kashō, stated that these peaks are similar in shape to the triple truth’s rounded perfection, and that they symbolize non-­verticality and non-­horizontality. He also said that the mountain’s back is in the east, while its front faces west. [. . .] Above all, thinking of the moons and seasons that have passed for more than seven hundred and thirty years, and investigating Fujiwara Kōyū’s life, it is evident that his birthdate corresponds to that of Tiantai Daishi in Si-­ming, from which we infer that this mountain is the site where the Buddha’s teachings first appeared in our land.159

The subsequent etiological record is Chinzei Hikosan Engi, dated 1572; it claims that Mount Hiko’s Buddhist establishment was created by a Chinese monk in the course of the sixth century, that it was the oldest Buddhist monastery in Japan, and it gives a wealth of detail concerning the hunter named Fujiwara Kōyū, also known as Ninniku biku, who cannot be the first man to have scaled Mount Hiko’s peaks for the simple reason that he would have been preceded there by

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the Chinese monk in question. In 1986 Miyake Hitoshi advanced that the graphs read Kōyū in Japanese may be an allusion to the Korean deity named Hwan’ung, who is regarded as one of the three mythical founders of that country; Miyake thus advanced the notion that Mount Hiko was a cultic site established under direct Korean influences.160 This issue was taken up at two Japanese-Korean conferences, the latter of which was published in 1996; in this publication several Korean and Japanese scholars discuss the relationship between Korean mythology contained in the Samguk Yusa and Mount Hiko’s foundational narratives, and we must spend a few moments analyzing the debate.161 The creation myth of what is viewed by some as the “Korean race” appears in the thirteenth-­century document,162 Samguk Yusa (Tales of the Three Kingdoms) written by the Korean Buddhist monk Iryŏn (1206–89), which proposes that the Heaven deity Hwanin’s son, Hwan’ung, descended onto White Mountain (T’aebaeksan) to rule the world. Near his residence there lived a bear and a tiger that always yearned to become humans; Hwan’ung gave them a stalk of wormwood and twenty pieces of garlic, saying, “If you eat these and avoid sunlight for a hundred days, you will turn into human beings.” The animals withdrew to a cave; after twenty-­one days the bear turned into a human female, but the tiger was unable to remain out of the sunlight as long as stipulated and therefore remained in its animal condition. Subsequently, Hwan’ung married the bear-­woman, and she gave birth to the deity called Tan’gun, who went on to found the state named Chosŏn (Korea).163 The name Hwan’ung is written with the graphs 桓雄, while the name Kōyū (that of the first man who, in Hikosan Ruki, would have ascended Mount Hiko) is written with the graphs 恒雄; that is, one stroke in the left element of the first graph of both names differs by so little indeed that one may advance it is a copyist error. Nonetheless, this graphic resemblance has caused Japanese and Korean scholars to look for connections between the myths. In my view, however, these scholars have gone much too far, if only because they claim that, in a medieval painting representing the Chinese “founder” of Mount Hiko and Fujiwara Kōyū, the Chinese monk is in fact the Korean founder Tan’gun, simply because he has a beard and wears a garment made of leaves, similar to that worn in much later representations of Tan’gun. The point of comparison, then, has dramatically shifted away from Hwan’ung, for no apparent reason; the identities, not just of deities but also of mountains, have been switched, and modern Korean nationalistic ideology seems to go unchallenged. To begin with, since there are no known mentions of either Hwan’ung or Tan’gun prior to the late thirteenth century, one does not see how Mount Hiko’s Fujiwara Kōyū, first mentioned in a

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text said to date from 1213, could in fact be Hwan’ung. Furthermore, even if a later copyist inserted the horizontal brushstroke that is found in the Chinzei Hikosan Engi, it is difficult to imagine a rationale for the copyist’s intentions. Finally, if the garment of leaves worn by the Buddhist monk as represented in later times is enough to make one believe that we are in fact looking at Tan’gun, then what are we to do of so many other representations of a variety of deities in China and Japan, all the way down to representations of the late nineteenth-­ century Kumano ascetic Jitsukaga, in which the same type of garment, and the same type of beard, appear? This type of fantasy simply cannot serve as scholarly demonstration. The Tan’gun myth does not shed any light on Mount Hiko’s origins, just as it does not shed any light on Korea’s past. In any case, both records mentioned above (the 1213 Hikosan Ruki and the 1572 Chinzei Hikosan Engi) agree that the (really historical figure) Hōren played an important if not pivotal role in the mountain’s early history, which is not unthinkable but is indicative of the influence Usa may have had either on the overall direction Mount Hiko’s early cults took, or on the formation of the area’s medieval narratives. Shozan Engi, a document of Kumano Shugendō dating back to the thirteenth century, reports that a Hossō monk of the Kōfukuji in Nara, a certain Jugen, was a resident of Mount Hiko.164 This statement, however, does not surface in the medieval narratives of Mount Hiko, and appears to have been ignored by Hiko authorities up to the bitter conflicts opposing Mount Hiko’s Shugendō community to the Shōgo-­in (the Tendai Shugendō center in Kyoto) in the seventeenth century, when the Hiko authorities used it to prove that Mount Hiko was not, originally, a Shōgo-­in/Kumano dependence. Still and all, Shozan Engi is an important Shugendō document and some trust can be placed in it; it is regrettable that it does not give more details on Jugen but we should underscore the presence, again, of Hossō monks (or, later, of Kōfukuji-­based yamabushi) in the region. There is no reason to doubt the authenticity of the statement concerning Jugen, even though the mention of his name and possible dates are only shreds of evidence in what is, to begin with, a meager set of available historical sources. There may have existed more detailed sources, but they would have been burnt at the time of the destruction of Mount Hiko’s institutions by Ōtomo warlords in 1581. All that is available, then, are a few medieval period narratives, scattered references in historical records of dubious origins, and too many conjectures. It has been proposed, thus, that Mount Hiko became a site of cult for Buddhist itinerant monks (hijiri and jikyōsha) some time during the Nara period; that it was under strong cultural influences emanating from the Korean Peninsula and

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from the Usa cultic center, and that it developed to a rather large extent in the tenth century, precisely at the time the ritual procedures of the Jōgan and Engi eras were compiled in Kyoto. Indeed, Gorai Shigeru, the most forceful proponent of this theory, has suggested that a certain Zōkei, who died in 1006, resigned his Kumano abbacy in 965 and moved his residence to Mount Hiko where he would have spent the rest of his life and created a number of important ritual festivities.165 Given the extent of Buddhist presence in northern Kyushu from at least as far back as the seventh century, however, it is intriguing that Mount Hiko’s Buddhist establishment does not appear in historical records before the eleventh century, at which time it is presented as a fully-­fledged institution that must have had quite some history behind it. We are now, though, in a much better position to understand parts of the context within which the name of Mount Hiko appears in documents, and this, in the journal of the Minister of the Right Fujiwara no Munetada (the Chūyūki covering the years 1087–1138), and in Honchōseiki, a historical record from the end of the twelfth century.166 These documents mention that the shuto (Buddhist militia members) of the communities of “Mirokuji Mount Hiko” gathered several times in 1094 in Dazaifu and engaged in skirmishes with the shuto of the Anrakuji Shrine-­temple complex of that city.167 These incidents caused the vice-­governor of Dazaifu, Fujiwara no Nagafusa, to abruptly resign his position and to flee back to Kyoto, only to earn him ridicule and the sobriquet, “half-­time vice-­governor.” The skirmishes in question occurred on the fifth and twenty-­fifth of the fifth month, on the fifth of the sixth month, on the thirtieth of the tenth month of 1094, as well as on the twenty-­fifth of the third month of the following year, but records give no reason for what may have caused them. Kishima Jinkyū suggests that the conflicts were related to estates because the abdicated sovereigns who ruled during the Insei period (1086–1185) changed many laws concerning land holdings. These changes, Kishima argues, caused the shuto of the Kōfukuji to engage in armed protest in 1093, also caused Mount Hiei’s shuto to clash with Minamoto no Yoshitsuna in 1095—and therefore caused the actions of Mount Hiko’s shuto in 1094.168 However, more recent scholarship suggests that Mount Hiko’s protests may have been caused by the fact that the abbacy of the Daisenji, the Buddhist temple located on Mount Hōman next to Dazaifu, was entrusted to a certain Raijō, who was assistant abbot of the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex; this event would have heralded the dominance of a Kyoto institution over the region.169 On the other hand, a certain Jōen—who was appointed master of lectures (kōshi) of the Mirokuji Temple as well as managing official (tsukasa) of the Kita-­in temple of Usa in 1087, and who later was appointed to the abbacy

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of the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex in 1101—is the object of an entry in Chūyūki dated 1096 which says that this Jōen was left out of an invitation to receive official recognition at the time because the conflicts of 1094 had taken place during his tenure at the Mirokuji Temple. This entry leads Hirowatari Masatoshi to propose that it is a direct indication of the fact that Mount Hiko’s Buddhist institutions may have been controlled by the Mirokuji Temple at the time.170 This opinion makes sense, up to a point, when one considers the following points. The Iwashimizu Shrine-­temple complex came to control the Usa, Kashii, and Hakozaki sites of Hachiman cults in northern Kyushu, and gradually came to symbolize the political and economic control of the center over the periphery during the eleventh century; Usa could do little but accept the situation and attempt to benefit from it. However, at the time Mount Hōman’s abbacy was granted to Raijō, the political situation of many shrine-­temple complexes had remarkably changed throughout Japan. By the beginning of the Insei period the System of Codes was in shambles and the country’s political and economic power was divided among various competing social and institutional blocks among which the shrine-­temple complexes were major forces that began to flex their political and military muscle in order to defend their economic privileges, though not in any unified or concerted manner. As a matter of fact, the shrine-­ temple complexes were unable or unwilling to avoid intense competition with each other and often impinged on each other’s territorial boundaries, a situation that led to gruesome armed encounters the court bemoaned and criticized but could not bring to a halt.171 It was estate tax management issues, for example, that made the Usa Hachiman complex confront Mount Hiei’s claim to control the affairs of Mount Hōman’s Daisenji Temple.172 Unable to muster the military, political, and economic authority it needed to control the shrine-­temple complexes and other conditions in the country, the court saw its political and economic powers disappear (something it could do little to prevent), but it was also seeing its ritual apparatus slowly disintegrate, and it did everything in its power to prevent that threat from becoming reality. There is thus little or no doubt that Mount Hiko was the site of a major establishment by the end of the eleventh century, even though we do not know how, by whom, or on what economic basis it was created and maintained, or how it came to form the type of rapport it obviously had with Mount Hōman’s Daisenji, the Anrakuji of Dazaifu, and the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex. Nonetheless, Mount Hiko had by that time evolved to such degree that it had at least one community called shuto (at Mount Hiko, “shito”), a term then used in

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mountain and urban sites of cult to refer to sometimes ordained but more often lay Buddhist figures who played a central role in the formation of the political and military power of shrine-­temple complexes around Japan. This community must therefore have evolved over the course of the first half of the Heian period, which suggests that Mount Hiko’s Buddhist institutions were created before, or at the beginning of, the Heian period. The Anrakuji, whose shuto also participated in the protests of 1094, was a powerful shrine-­temple complex located in Dazaifu, and was dedicated to the angry spirit (onryō) of Sugawara no Michizane, who had been exiled to Dazaifu by his Fujiwara competitors and died there in 903.173 Even though it is still not clear what caused the shuto communities of Mount Hiko and those of the Anrakuji and Mirokuji Shrine-­temple complexes to engage in violence in 1094, the riot may have been aimed, either directly or indirectly, at the Fujiwara house’s policies and attempts to control Kyushu. Raijō was assistant abbot of the Iwashimizu Shrine-­temple complex created by Fujiwara no Yoshifusa for his grandson Emperor Seiwa and there is no doubt that Iwashimizu symbolized Fujiwara control over cultic institutions and over northen Kyushu cults as well. The Anrakuji, however, was a monument dedicated to someone who had been removed from court by Fujiwara politicians, and therefore was a symbol of resistance against the Fujiwara house in Kyushu.174 What may have caused Mount Hiko’s community to feel enmity against the Fujiwara house is not evident either, but it is possible that its relation to Mount Hōman’s Daisenji temple was such that when it was decided that a Fujiwara-­dominated abbot would be appointed in the latter, Mount Hiko’s community saw its own power threatened. Whatever the real reasons were, one thing is not in doubt: the 1094 incident and the flight of the vice-­governor marked a loss of power over Kyushu on the part of the Fujiwara house, and symbolized the coming of age of the shrine-­temple complexes’ political and military might in the distant island of Kyushu. Less than 100 years after these events, the Kyoto court established a new and ominous relationship with Mount Hiko. In the eleventh century members of the imperial and Fujiwara houses engaged in repeated and costly pilgrimages to Kumano, an area in which Shugendō was evolving within both taimitsu and tōmitsu forms of esoteric doctrinal and ritual parameters. The three Kumano Shrines had been recognized early on by the Heian court, which had granted two of them the upper fifth rank in 859 (Jōgan 1)—when the infant emperor Seiwa was placed on the throne by his grandfather Fujiwara no Yoshifusa. The first imperial pilgrimage to Kumano was performed by Retired Emperor Uda in 907, at which point the two shrines in question again saw their ranks (and economic base) elevated. An imperial visit on the part of Retired Emperor Kazan took

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place in 987, and Fujiwara no Tamefusa visited in 1081, an occasion for which he wrote details of his travel in his diary.175 Retired Emperor Shirakawa’s first visit to Kumano occurred in 1090, four years before Mount Hiko’s name was to surface in a courtier’s diary; his spiritual mentor and actual guide (sendatsu) at the time was a certain Zōyo (1022–1116) of the Onjōji (Miidera) Temple, who was subsequently appointed Supervisor (kengyō) of Kumano and of the Shōgo-­ in Temple in Kyoto, a major institution established for the express purpose of protecting the body of the imperium as symbolized by the body of the emperor, and later became the headquarters of taimitsu Shugendō.176 The retired emperor Go-Shirakawa had a particular predilection for Kumano (he went there thirty-­ four times); he invoked the Kumano kami in Kyoto in 1160, where he built the Ima-Kumano Shrine to enshrine them as protectors (chinju) of the Shōgo-­in itself. He then established the economic support of that shrine by granting it some revenues to be withdrawn from twenty-­eight estates scattered all over western Japan. The last name in his list of estates, dated 1181, is Mount Hiko.177 It is on that occasion, presumably, that Mount Hiko was granted recognition as a measured space (shiishi) contained within ritually established boundaries (kekkai), which government officials were not allowed to penetrate to make enquiries concerning taxation or to investigate criminal matters. The decision to connect Mount Hiko to the Ima-Kumano/Shōgo-­in Shrine-­ temple complex bore consequences of a ritual, practical, institutional, political, and economic character. First, Mount Hiko came to enjoy and, at the same time, symbolize a particular relationship to the imperial court—a feature that had been absent from its foundation. Second, its economic fate became related to the welfare of the imperial system at a time when it was threatened by administrative incompetence and by the growing power of warlords. Mount Hiko’s authorities were encouraging warlord support at the very same time (it is said that Minamoto no Yoriyoshi would have rebuilt the mountain’s Hōheiden Sanctuary in 1062 upon his defeat of Abe no Sadatō; Yoriyoshi would have prayed there to the deities of Mount Hiko and, Nakano Hatayoshi says, of Iwashimizu Hachiman as well).178 Finally, Mount Hiko (and Kyushu Shugendō in general) came to be influenced by Kumano Shugendō especially after the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­ temple’s influence waned and after it came to be dominated by Kyoto temples too, just as the Hōmanzan and Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complexes, as well as the Kunisaki Peninsula’s Rokugōzan Conglomerate itself, eventually came to be dominated by the Iwashimizu or Mount Hiei Shrine-­temple complexes. The subsequent history of Mount Hiko is linked, in part, to its efforts to liberate itself from a position that could be interpreted as being subservient to the Shōgo-­

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in, while attempting to extract all possible benefits from imperial recognition and to create its own identity and economic and political independence. Many of the military engagements, economic conditions, and political leanings the mountain community displayed over the centuries can be traced back to the 1181 allotment on the part of Retired Emperor Go-Shirakawa. If we are to believe the Hikosan Ruki etiological record dated 1213, Mount Hiko was regarded early on as the site where Maitreya (Miroku bosatsu) the Buddha of the Future, would institute a new cosmic age: This is an unequalled sacred space under Heaven, the greatest site of miracles in the four directions. The first ascent of the mountain was completed by a certain Fujiwara Kōyū during the Kyōtō era [531–6]. Thinking of the merits they might earn in converting past, present, and future generations, the Three Avatars decided at this juncture to protect the Buddha’s teachings and acted as generals, marshaling the myriads Adamantine Youths. They disclosed that the sacred peaks contained petrified construction beams. Ordering to gather these beams they then instructed the Adamantine Youths to store them on the south side of Southern Peak, stipulating that they should be used in erecting the Great Lecture Hall in which Miroku would give his sermon upon becoming Buddha. The same type of beams is found at two sites on the mountain; the beams are similar in style and form to materials used in the common world, but this phenomenon is so exceptional that it is impossible to find anything alike in the sixty or more provinces of this country. They are protected by a manifestation of Miroku.179

The same document, however, says that the mountain also became the site of beliefs and practices related to the widespread notion of the decadence of the Buddha’s teachings and of the universe at large (mappō), a belief reinforced by the tumultuous conditions of the time during which the record would have been written: urns containing scriptures related to a hope for rebirth in a better world were interred near Mount Hiko’s summits in 1113 and 1145; these urns, excavated in 1951, are also mentioned in Hikosan Ruki. As will be shown in detail later on, however, the constitution of the sacredness of Mount Hiko during the Heian and Kamakura periods was a complex matter involving much more than these beliefs. Dominated by the imperial court as it may have been, the Heian period ended in 1185 in a final maritime battle that pitted the Taira and Minamoto warlords against each other at Dan-­no-ura, a bay bordering Mount Hiko’s northern sub-­ranges, and Japan came to be governed by the military warlord (shōgun) Minamoto no Yoritomo. The Minamoto house, however, was very much a political creation, like the Fujiwara house; it had been established when descendants of Emperor Seiwa (the grandson of Fujiwara no Yoshifusa, who had

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created the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex) were granted this name on the condition that they not lay claim to the throne. Thus sharing imperial and Fujiwara blood, the Minamoto house never forgot its origins in Emperor Seiwa, and therefore carried out a cult to Hachiman. Indeed, only one century after Emperor Seiwa’s death, Minamoto no Yorinobu (968–1048) regarded Hachiman as the ancestral spirit of his house, and various members of the Minamoto house built shrines and temples dedicated to Hachiman on the sites of their battlefields and estates. Minamoto no Yoriyoshi (988– 1075), mentioned earlier, erected a major Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex in Yuigahama in 1063 (without securing, apparently, an authorization from the Iwashimizu complex—although his son Yoshiie had performed his coming-­ofage rites there in 1048). This Yuigahama Shrine-­temple complex was subsequently transferred to Kamakura in 1180; that is the famed Tsurugaoka Hachimangū of Kamakura in the Kantō region, which evolved into yet another major shrine-­ temple complex; as a consequence, the character of the Hachiman cult changed in order to accommodate the emerging warrior ethos.180 We are thus able to understand one reason why the Minamoto house was interested in the Usa region and why it threw its support behind Mount Hiko, which was so closely related to the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex. This set of circumstances, however, was complicated by the fact that a number of cultic institutions in northern Kyushu, none the least of which was the Usa Shrine-­temple complex, had taken sides with the Taira warlords and not, as one might have expected, with the Minamoto: the Usa Hachiman complex was reduced to ashes at the time by Minamoto-­related warlords—those very same warlords who considered Hachiman to be their ancestor/protector. In 1185 Minamoto no Yoritomo, the Kamakura shogun, began to set up land stewards (jitō) in each province of the country, and Ōtomo Yoshinao (1172–1223), a warlord who had assisted Yoritomo in his battles, became the first protector (shugo) of Buzen Province around 1206.181 A few years earlier, in 1197, this Ōtomo Yoshinao had offered an embossed representation of Amida, which he referred to as gongen mishōtai (“material support” of the Avatar), on Mount Hiko. Hikosan Ruki, the oldest extant narrative concerning the mountain, was compiled shortly thereafter. Narrative self-­ representations such as those presented in Hikosan Ruki were produced by the immense majority of sites of cult on the occasion of political and social change, and it is worth underlining the fact that these narratives provide us with the best clues evidencing the conflicts of interpretation that rocked these sites of cult at the time, for the authors’ political leanings and alliances surface in these

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documents—if only through their telling silences. One is also provided with a glimpse of the relations between various Buddhist discourses and practices that were in competition at the time, as well as with some insight into the relations between these practices and what for lack of a better term at the present might be referred to as nascent medieval Shinto discourses. These documents suggest that there was a powerful competition between the various social groups that specialized in either of these discourses. Thus, even though Hikosan Ruki may have been produced right after the establishment of the Kamakura shogunate (kōgi), it says nothing about the establishment of warlord power at the time, but its silence speaks volumes—since we know, for example, that the Ōtomo warlords garnered the well-­deserved scorn of the region’s population. This text does, however, provide us with some information concerning two aspects of the social space of Mount Hiko: first, the psychological aspects of the perception of space and its concomitant inscriptions on the mountain itself, and the ensuing deployment of spatial practices on the part of the yamabushi (described in the following chapter); second, concerning the fact that the “Buddha-­siders” of the community were superior to the “kami-siders” in all respects from rank to ideas, but that this superiority was being questioned, at least in a covert manner (an issue discussed in the third chapter). Hikosan Ruki was also a political document in the sense that it emphasized Mount Hiko’s independence from Kyoto while attempting to maintain the advantages of being an Ima-Kumano quasi-­entrustment, that is, by keeping claim to its tax-­free status while emphasizing the interdiction against political control on the part of local and central governments. The mountain sanctuary thus became a political institution. It is said in Hikosan Ruki that the Ryōsenji, Mount Hiko’s main temple, consisted in the early thirteenth century of more than 200 meditation halls inhabited by 110 kōshū (resident monks) and 205 sendatsu (literally, “guide,” a term referring to the upper echelons of yamabushi as separate from the scholarly monks and from “Buddha-­siders” as well as “kami-siders”), and that Mount Hiko’s sacred realm consisted of forty-­nine “caves” (kutsu), located both within and beyond the perimeter that had been established in 1181, and where yamabushi engaged in ascetic practices; it also presents short narratives about several of these caves, such as the following. One: Wisdom Cave (also called Jewel Cave [Tamaya]). The Three Avatars brought from the country of Magadha [India] a precious jewel and deposited it in this mountain’s Wisdom Cave so that it may benefit

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Mountain Mandalas Japan’s population. Hearing of the jewel, the anchorite named Hōren lived in seclusion in this cave for twelve years and read the Diamond Sutra with an undisturbed and unified mind, strictly according to prescription.

Hikosan Ruki also notes that more than 300 residents of the mountain participated in a large number of ritual assemblies, among which were the Dengyō Daishi goe on the fourth day of the sixth month (dedicated to Saichō, the patriarch of the Tendai Buddhist school); the Nefugyōe during the eighth month (dedicated to ritual copying of the Lotus Sutra, the main scripture of Tendai Buddhism); and the Kaizan’e during the eleventh month (performed in Mount Hiko’s Jewel Cave in honor of the fictional founder of the site of cult, a Chinese monk named Chan-­zheng. By the fourteenth century Mount Hiko had indeed become a prominent site of cult and it went on developing to such an extent that it came to require major governance: in 1333 Utsunomiya Nobukatsu, the jitō (steward) of the Shiroi district of Buzen Province, invited Imperial Prince Annin, the sixth son of Emperor Go-Fushimi (r. 1298–1301), to become abbot of Mount Hiko, a position he assumed under the name Joyū.182 The position of abbot was passed thereafter from father to son, and Mount Hiko became a monzeki, that is, a vast institution ruled hereditarily by abbots of imperial origins.183 Joyū was married and therefore unable to reside in the Ryōsenji Temple itself, which was off-­limits to women, and he established his offices in the Kurokawa-­in temple in Kurokawa, on the south side of the mountain, like the princely abbots of Mount Hiei who resided in Sakamoto at the foot of the mountain on Lake Biwa’s western shore.184 Mount Hiko thus came to be directly related to both warlord and imperial cultures during the medieval period. As a consequence of the hereditary transmission of the abbacy among members of aristocratic lineages and of warlord patronage, Mount Hiko’s power and influence reached their apex in the Muromachi period (1336–1573), and it was then that shrines dedicated to Daigyōji (a combinatory entity symbolizing all the deities worshipped on the mountain) were erected on the growing number of estates Mount Hiko’s abbots came to control in northern Kyushu.185 These circumstances provide us with a glimpse of the formal and institutional differences that caused the cultic sites of Usa, Mount Hiko, and Kunisaki to develop separately even as they were geographical neighbors: after 1181 and up to the fourteenth century, Mount Hiko was administered locally but fell under the influence of prelates of the Shōgo-­in (and of the Onjōji as well), and it therefore evolved as a Shugendō center dominated by Tendai esotericism (taimitsu). The Usa Hachiman

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Table 2  List of Mount Hiko’s abbots A. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

The “Six Superior Men” (Roku shōnin) Zenshō 善正 (?–582) Hōren 法蓮 (?–829) Raun 羅運 (?–835) Mokuren 木練 (?–934) Shinkei 真慶 (?–979) Zōkei 増慶 (?–1006)

B. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14.

Muromachi and Sengoku periods Joyū 助有 (?–1349); first monzeki abbot Jōyū 浄有 (?–1396) Yūchū 有忠 (?–1413) Yūshun 有俊 (?–1433) Yūi 有依 (?–1440) Yūgon 有厳 (?–1461) Raiyū 頼有 (?–1484) Gyōyū 堯有 (?–1499) Kōyū 興有 (?–1507) Yūin 有胤 (?–1530) Yūshin 有信 (?–1552) Rennyū 連有 (?–1567) Renchū 連忠 (?–1569) Shunnyū 舜有 (?–1587)

C. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12.

Edo period Chūyū 忠有 (?–1662) Yūshō 有清 (?–1653) Ryōyū 亮有 (1629–1674) Kōyū 広有 (1652–1679) Shōyū 相有 (1654–1714) Hoyū 保有 (1685–1743) Yūyo 有誉 (1687–1765) Kōyū 孝有 (?–1772) Shōyū 韶有 (1755–73) Myōyū 妙有 (1759–1811) Yūsen 有宣 (1781–1829) Kyōyū 教有 (1825–1872; took the name Takachiho Noriari after 1868).

Based on Hikosan kiroku, reproduced in Kawazoe Shōji and Hirowatari Masatoshi, Hikosan Hennen Shiryō (kodai, chūsei-­hen) (Tokyo: Bunken shuppan, 1986), pp. 494–6.

Shrine-­temple complex was placed under the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­ temple complex at that time, and it therefore produced a system related to that institution’s imperial character and its taimitsu sphere of ritual influence. The Kunisaki Peninsula’s “Conglomerate” was entrusted to Mount Hiei’s Mudōji Temple and thereby fell under the influence of the Sannō (taimitsu) cult, and its Shugendō aspects were influenced by Kumano Shugendō controlled by the Onjōji Temple located on Mount Hiei’s southeastern flank. This form of

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Shugendō had a great impact on Mount Hiko too, as a result of which Kumano Shugendō’s putative founder, En no Gyōja, eventually came to be regarded as the founder of Hiko Shugendō’s practices, and of some practices found in the Kunisaki Peninsula as well. The Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex and Mount Omoto also came to be deeply marked by this form of Shugendō.

2

Geotyped and Chronotyped Social Spaces

The formal distinction between the “ideal space” of mental (logico-­mathematical) categories and the “real space” of social practice established by Henri Lefèbvre is relevant to the present investigation in the sense that Usa, Hiko, and Kunisaki were foremost social spaces as well as the objects of a series of practices and narratives—although it is not clear whether language and its accompanying epistemological categories conditioned the apprehension of social space or simply formulated or re-­presented it. Nor is it clear at first whether narratives, as a particular instance of language use, were fundamentally involved in the production of the space and time categories that are presented below. What is clear, however, is that if one were to posit the existence of Usa, Hiko, and Kunisaki separately from their constitution as social spaces and separately from the various narratives that were attached to them, one would have to consider their geographical reality as a mere variable or as an arbitrarily existing, neutral container. One would have to empty them of their temporal character and thereby remove from consideration all human agents, their experience of space, and their production of that experience through schemes that enabled them to postulate a culture of place, best defined as a set of metaphors underlying strategies of domination and metaphysical notions all at once. In a nutshell, history would have to be ignored. Yet, historical time is that of the people who produced these sites of cult, occupied them, fought over their definition, argued for hegemony over interpretations and classificatory schemes, shed blood over the issue of who should rule them, and competed in developing and formalizing spatial and social practices that left traces over human-­made landscapes as well as over body-­minds. As Henri Lefèbvre wrote, “producing space sounds bizarre, so great is the sway still held by the idea that empty space is prior to whatever ends up filling it.”1 As for time, it was conceived differently by the communities that engaged in the Usa, Hiko, and Kunisaki cults in the sense that—in the case of Mount Hiko, for example—the various social groups living on the mountain

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established perspectives on time and space that were different from those that were held by people living away from the mountain. Space and time were thus lived, not merely lived in, differently by these mountain communities—but they were also perceived, conceived and represented differently, and it may be advanced that a good part of the history of the sites of cult of Usa, Hiko, and Kunisaki is the history of those experiences, perceptions, conceptualizations, and representations. Space and time were objects of thought or to the very least something good to think with, and they were firmly tied to specific social practices; that is, space and time were objects of thought to such a degree that the models that were constructed of them were used to contain a significant number of philosophical and religious notions originally external to them, and they involved social practices to such a degree that they were used to codify existential experience and social life. This chapter examines how cosmological and cosmographic notions were projected onto discrete geographical regions with the result that these regions came to be conceived of as the natural, physical models of principles said to have been retrieved through specific mental-­ physical practices, and it will be suggested that these practices were directly related to the constitution of social subjects. The projection and retrieval of these principles through practices that structurally fit specific categories of space and time will be called, in the following, “modeling of existential space,” while the various forms these categories took will be called “geotypes” in the case of space, and “chronotypes” in the case of time. John Bender and David Wellbery coined the term “chronotype” on the basis of Mikhail Bakhtin’s use of the term “chronotope” (itself borrowed from Einstein’s physics) in order to “designate the fusion of temporal/spatial structures and to define characteristic time/space formations.”2 These authors defined chronotypes as “models or patterns through which time assumes practical or conceptual significance” and they emphasized that these models are constructed, made and remade at multiple individual, social, and cultural levels. While it is not the purpose of the present discussion to address the thematic horizon outlined in their study, it is useful to focus the analysis on two questions these authors have asked. First, “What functions do chronotypes serve? How do they contribute to the formation of social, cultural, and individual identity? In what ways do they constrict or expand the field of experience?” Secondly, “What is the relation between temporal construction and empowerment? Are chronotypes involved in processes of domination?”3 There are two reasons for my choice of these authors’ two questions: the first is that they can be used to discuss the social construction of experience, and the second is that they facilitate an elaboration of both space and time in relation to social

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and cultural forms, in a way that these authors have not done. That is, even though Bender and Wellbery have underlined the fact that time and space cannot be separated, they have actually emphasized the construction of time alone, and have by and large let the analysis of space fall by the wayside.

Hachiman’s traveling icons4 Several intriguing temporal, spatial, and social features of the Hachiman cult in northeast Kyushu are found in the Stately Progress Ritual Assembly (Gyōkōe), a ritual procession that originated at a time that cannot be ascertained but is said to have reached stability at the beginning of the ninth century, only to be abandoned during the Edo period (1600–1868). This Stately Progress set of rituals entailed the production, every six years, of new “icons” (mishirushi) symbolizing the Hachiman triad, their presentation to eight shrines in Buzen Province, and their formal installation in the Usa Shrine-­temple complex. The old icons were then withdrawn from Usa and were displayed in front of four shrines in Bungo Province before they were released into the sea at Nada, in the southeastern corner of the Kunisaki Peninsula. Concurrently, the regalia (jinpō) of the Usa Shrine were taken and paraded in front of two shrines in Buzen Province. Documents of the Heian period (794–1185) say that the Stately Progress was inaugurated in 749 (the date of Hachiman’s installation at the Tōdaiji) or 765, and that it was performed once every four years up to 811, when it was decided that the rite would be performed once every six years, in the year of the hare and in that of the rooster.5 Long regarded as one ritual of the Usa Hachiman cult equal in importance to the Release of Living Beings Ritual Assembly, but now extinct even though an attempt to revive it was made in 1971, the Stately Progress is representative of a “spatial choreography” and “temporal rhythm” worthy of special notice. It also includes a number of iconographic elements that strongly suggest how the effigies of the Hachiman cult were conceived of during the medieval period. Every major (Shinto) shrine in Japan consists of a hall (shinden) containing a number of cultic objects that are usually hidden from public view, sometimes kept secret but withdrawn from the shrine in special containers on the occasion of the ritual observances and festivities known as matsuri, when they are placed into portable palanquins (mikoshi) and paraded in the communities that dedicate a cult to them. These cultic objects are divided into several categories, the most important of which is called “body of the kami” (shintai, goshintai or mishōtai).

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The term “body” refers to a physical substance to which a kami adheres, or which a kami is said to manifest; it may consist of a variety of natural or man-­made objects ranging from stones to Buddhist statues and include mirrors, masks, or weapons. The second category of objects found in shrines is the regalia (jinpō or kandakara) that are placed within the shrine itself or are kept in an adjacent storehouse. These objects usually have a long history and are displayed in front of a shrine at the time of ritual observances; they range over a vast material variety, from banners to swords.6 More rarely found, the third category is called mishirushi, a term I propose to translate as “icon” for the following reasons. The word mi is a mark of respect referring to the kami, and the word shirushi, which may mean proof, mark, or indication, is written with a Chinese graph meaning evidence or clue; the word thus refers to objects whose function is to reveal, indicate, or evidence the presence of a kami. They are symbols, but the term icon is preferable because of its twofold meaning, first as a reference to formal modes of representation, and second, as a reference to the metaphorical function of language as defined by Charles S. Peirce and Umberto Eco. Contrary to the shintai, icons tended to be replaced on a regular basis, for reasons that are unclear— although it is known that some shintai were regularly replaced in some shrines. There are no indications concerning when icons came to be placed in the Usa Shrines prior to the Heian period, by which time it is clear that they were wooden statues—Hachiman being represented, in general, as a Buddhist monk—and that these statues were painted, dressed with brocade garments, and placed near or on pillows (makura). These pillows were filled with water-­oat (makomo: Zizania aquatica, sometimes called Indian or Canadian rice). Ceremonially taken from the Komo Shrine’s three-­pronged piece of water in Ōsada, these pillows were wrapped in brocade casings embroidered with representations of ritual implements of esoteric Buddhism, among which the six-­pronged ritual trident (dokko, Skt., vajra) figured prominently as an emblem of esoteric Buddhism. The brocade garments for the statues were also adorned with embroidered representations of ritual implements. These pillows and clothed statues were then placed in the shrine on ornate seats and were surrounded by regalia that, in the case of Usa, were weapons for the most part but included mirrors to which special attention was given at the time of the Rite of Release of Living Beings. Hachiman is the first major Japanese cultic system in which the objects of the cult were subjected to anthropomorphic representations placed in shrines; as was suggested in the first chapter, there is little doubt that Buddhism was responsible for this feature. Indeed, the immense majority of “native” cults in which painted or sculpted anthropomorphic representations are found were

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governed by Buddhist temples, or evolved in shrines created by Buddhist monks—as was the case of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex. Furthermore, the entities enshrined in Usa had been “real” humans before their death, so that we are looking at a cult of deification of human agents by Buddhism, and not at what one author has termed an ancestral cult.7 The isochronal replacement of the statues, garments and pillows, and their strictly ordered movements through space were a grand and expensive affair comparable to the reconstruction of the Ise or Kasuga Shrines that are said to have taken place every twenty years, although these periodic reconstructions did not fulfill quite the same function as the rite under discussion (the Usa Hachiman Shrine itself was to be reconstructed every thirty-­three years, although—as in the case of Kasuga and Ise—political, economic, and military conditions prevented the observation of a strict isochrony). The Stately Progress under consideration entailed the participation of many commoners, sacerdotal officiants, Buddhist prelates and aristocrats and, later on, warlords. It required lengthy preparations, for it entailed sending to Kyoto boats that were loaded with items to pay for the brocade garments and casings for the pillows. These were usually made by artists of the court’s workshops of sculpture and weaving, or by artisans affiliated with the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex. The elements just outlined above, and discussed more extensively below, indicate that the clothing of the statues was an all-­important aspect of iconography. The origins of this Stately Progress are not clear. It seems that only the garments and brocade casings for the pillows were replaced at first, but that the statues themselves came to be replaced (or, more probably, introduced) at the beginning of the Heian period. Collectively called lordly raiments, these garments and casings were offered by members of the court early on in the rite’s history. After the beginning of the medieval period, raw materials were requested from communities living on specific Kyushu estates that were managed by the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, but the manufacture of the raiments was always completed in Kyoto. Local preparations for the Stately Progress engaged many people in the Buzen, Bungo, and Hyūga provinces; special taxes were levied for the occasion on the shrines’ estates, and the overall procedure took about two years. The lordly raiments were requested directly from the artisanal offices of the court at least until the middle of the Kamakura period (1185– 1336), although it appears that for much of the Heian period members of leading aristocratic houses personally ordered the garments from the Oribe ateliers they sponsored. The Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex levied primary materials

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for these garments from its estates in Hyūga Province, and sent them to Kyoto on especially chartered boats called “brocade boats of the stately progress” (Gyōkō-­e aya mifune). One boat per shrine was provided, and a document dated 1176 stipulated that each should be manned by thirty-­three hands commandeered by as many as twenty district offices located in three provinces. Meanwhile, the estate of Himeshima Island, which belonged to the Mirokuji Temple, was asked to provide ten sheaves (soku) of arrowroot (kuzu), while the population of that small island was required to provide thirty-­three gallons of sea salt, three gallons of millet (awasa), and twenty sheaves of arrowroot.8 All in all, however, during the 1176 preparation for the ritual progress that took place the following year, authorities of the Usa Shrine-­temple complex requested materials including cotton, silk, cloth, hemp cloth, white cloth, leather, as well as ingredients for the colors purple, indigo, dyer’s saffron, and azure, for the rather consequent sum of 523 gold coins (ryō) and 160 copper coins. The 1177 progress appears to have been the last performed during the Heian period, for the raging battles of the following decade probably prevented boats from moving freely across the Inland Sea, which had become a central staging area for the conflict between the Taira (Heike) and Minamoto (Genji) warlords. Once the Kamakura shogunate (kōgi) was established in 1186, however, the management of estates owned by shrine-­temple complexes across the country drastically changed, and the Usa sacerdotal authorities stopped sending primary materials, preferring instead to send rice and to request that officials of the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex exchange it there for materials to be purchased in Kyoto. Several documents suggest that the Stately Progress of 1285, conducted four years after the Mongol invasions, was particularly impressive; indeed, the institutions of Mount Hiko, of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­ temple complex, and especially those of Kunisaki had been asked by the government to perform esoteric rituals with a view to “protect the territory and repel the barbarians,” and it was deemed that their combined powers led to the 1281 typhoon (kamikaze) that caused the defeat of the Mongols on Kyushu’s northern shores. As a consequence, five weavers working in three different ateliers in Kyoto were hired to produce the lordly raiments, and three boats, each of which was directed by two helmsmen and manned by twenty-­four hands, carrying various materials and copper coins, were chartered by the Usa Shrine-­temple complex and crossed the Inland Sea in six days. Documents requesting various Iwashimizu officials to expeditiously barter rice against raw materials were signed by fourteen officiants of the Usa and Ōga sacerdotal houses; several other documents duly

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Map 7  Icons travel from Usa to Iwashimizu and back

prepared by various scribes requested permission to cross province boundaries and dock in harbors along the route. It appears that this Stately Progress was performed only intermittently during the Muromachi period (1336–1570) because of difficult economic conditions and of the many armed encounters marking the late medieval period in Kyushu, and that it was abandoned altogether during the Edo period (1615–1868) for a variety of reasons that are not explicitly stated but must have been related to the Tokugawa shoguns’ policies and their emphasis on their own self-­deification at the Tōshōgū shrine-­temple complex in Nikkō as well as in every province. It might be added that the deification of the Tokugawa shoguns bears close resemblance to the Hachiman cult’s central features. This should not come as a surprise, for Tendai prelates were responsible for the Hachiman cult in Kyushu, and created the doctrinal and ritual lines of the combinatory Sannō cult for the Tokugawa deification rituals that evolved at the Tōshōgū complex in Nikkō.9

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Figure 1  Plan of Usa Hachiman Shrine’s grounds

Once these raiments arrived in Usa they were placed inside the Lower Sanctuary, on the west side of Ogura Hill where the Upper Sanctuary is situated.10 A group of sacerdotal officiants led by an inspector (always a member of the sacerdotal lineage managing the Oyamada Shrine) and his retainers then prepared palanquins in front of the Upper Sanctuary and departed on the first day of the horse of the seventh month for the Komo Shrine of Ōsada, which is dedicated to a kami whose “physical substance” was the Misumi Pond, a piece of water generated by three sources and in which water-­oat grew. There the sacerdotal officiants ceremonially cut the water-­oat that would be used to fill the pillows and took it to Usa, where they displayed it in the corridor surrounding the first shrine of the Lower Sanctuary, and let it dry for several days. They then erected to the west of the Lower Sanctuary a temporary building called “Cormorant Feathers Hall” (On’ubaneya), within which the inspector spent one hundred days in seclusion, a period during which he fasted a total of seven (seventeen?) days, and at the conclusion of which he produced for all to see the encased pillows, each 30cm in length and 3cm in thickness, and the newly dressed statues.11 These objects were then taken to the Upper Sanctuary through its eastern gate, while the old icons were removed through the western gate and taken to the Lower Sanctuary. On the first day of the horse of the eleventh month,

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leading sacerdotal officiants of the Upper Sanctuary’s three shrines placed the new icons into palanquins and departed for ceremonial visits to eight shrines.12 It should be noted that these palanquins were elaborately decorated and that their inner walls, never shown in public, were painted with scenes based on sections of the Lotus Sutra. According to the fourteenth-­century Compendium of Hachiman Oracles, the first painting in the first palanquin was based on the following verses of the second chapter of the sutra, “Expedient Devices”: There are even children who in play Gather sand and make it into Buddha-­stupas. Persons like these Have all achieved the Buddha Path.13

The second painting was based on the following verses of the sixteenth chapter, “The Life-­span of the Thus Come One”: Ever am I on the Mount of the Numinous Eagle And in my other dwelling places. When the beings see the kalpa ending And being consumed by a great fire, This land of mine is perfectly safe, Ever full of gods and men; In it are gardens and groves, halls and towers, Variously adorned with gems.14

The third painting was based on the following lines of the twelfth chapter, “Devadatta”: For Dharma’s sake, I abandoned realm and title, leaving the government to my heir, and to the beat of a drum I announced to the four quarters that I was seeking Dharma. “Whoever can preach the Great Vehicle to me, for him I will render service and run errands for the rest of my life!” At that time there was a seer who came and reported to the king, saying, “I have a great vehicle; its name is the Scripture of the Lotus Blossom of the Fine Dharma. If you can obey me, I will set it forth for you.” When the king heard the seer’s words, he danced for joy, then straightway followed the seer, tending to whatever he required: picking his fruit, drawing his water, gathering his firewood, preparing his food, even making a couch of his own body; feeling no impatience, whether in body or mind. He rendered him service for a thousand years, bending all efforts to menial labor for Dharma’s sake and seeing to it that he lacked nothing.15

The paintings of the second palanquin were based on the following verses of the third chapter, “Parable”:

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Mountain Mandalas Then straightway, intentionally Devising some expedients, He announced to the children: “I have various Precious playthings, Lovely carriages adorned with fine jewels, Goat-­drawn carriages, deer-­drawn carriages, And carriages drawn by great oxen, Now outside the door. Come out, all of you! For your sakes I Have made these carriages, Following the desire of your own thoughts. You may amuse yourselves with them.” When the children heard him tell Of carriages such as these, Straightway, racing one another, They ran out at a gallop, Reaching an empty spot And getting away from woes and troubles. The great man, seeing his children Able to get out the burning house . . . [. . .] With great white oxen, Fat, and in the prime of life, and endowed with great strength, Their physical form lovely, Yoked to the jeweled carriages [Chōgyō note: “a pillow the color of cinnabar is set in this palanquin.”] With many footmen, fore and aft, attending them.

The paintings in the third palanquin were based on the following segment of the twenty-­seventh chapter, “The Former Affairs of the King Fine Adornment”: Thereupon the two sons, taking thought for their father, danced in empty space at a height equal to that of seven tala-trees and displayed a variety of magical feats in empty space: walking, remaining still, sitting, lying down, emitting water from the upper part of their bodies, emitting water from the lower part of their bodies, emitting fire from the upper part of their bodies, emitting fire from the lower part of their bodies, or else displaying a body large enough to fill empty space, then displaying a small one and then displaying a large one, vanishing in empty space and then suddenly appearing on the ground, sinking into the earth

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as if it were water, treading on the water as if it were earth. Displaying such a variety of magical feats as these, they caused the king their father to believe and understand with a pure heart.16

An interesting study published in the Bulletin of the Oita Prefectural Museum of History in 2011 and authored by Ishikawa Yūsei, Hirao Yoshimitsu and Yamada Takushin shows that the paintings were completed on silk and glued to the mikoshi inner panels; they were saved from assured destruction in 1868, removed from the panels, mounted on scrolls, and kept in various museums. These scientists subjected the paintings to X-ray and chemical composition analysis, and determined that, of the ten paintings recovered, eight had been made between 1306–8, and two between 1394–1428. These paintings represent the space/time of the events presented in the Lotus Sutra quoted above, and are of high quality. The study also suggests that the paintings must have been done in Kyoto because the pigments used were typical of the imperial painting ateliers at the time. 17 Thus adorned, the procession left for the Tabue Shrine located at the western entrance to the Kunisaki Peninsula, and then went to the Takaise (Komoise) Shrine, where its members spent one night. The following day, the procession proceeded to the Kōrise Shrine, the Sakai Izumi Shrine, the Otohime Shrine, and the Ōnegawa Shrine. At that point an assistant sacerdotal head removed the sacred halberds (regalia) from the Usa Shrines and proceeded to the Komo Shrine, where he had them displayed. It is said that before the Heian period an imperial messenger participated in the Stately Progress up to this point but was replaced later by a provincial government official. In any case, the procession then retraced its steps to the Kōrise Shrine, and the following day journeyed to the Tsumagaki Shrine, in the proximity of which another night was spent in temporary buildings. The next day, the assistant head-­officiant took the regalia to the Karakawa Shrine, and upon his return to Kōrise the procession visited the Tsumagaki Shrine on the hour of the rooster. After yet another night the procession journeyed to the Oyamada Shrine, and then retraced its steps to the Upper Sanctuary of Usa on Ogura Hill, where the sacerdotal officiants entered through the western gate and finally deposited the various icons and regalia inside the three shrines. Starting some time during the late Kamakura period, it seems, the old icons were removed from the Lower Sanctuary and were taken across the Kunisaki Peninsula to the Nada Hachiman Shrine by several sacerdotal officiants of that shrine. The procession first went to the Wakamiya Shrine of Kunawa District and spent the night there; it then visited the Ichinomiya Shrine of the Tashibu estate

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Map 8  Icons travel from Usa to Komo, and Usa to Nada Shrine

for another night, visited the Shirakami Shrine of Tahara and spent one night there, and finally proceeded to the Nada Hachiman Shrine, although it appears that the Tsubaki Hachiman Shrine of the district of Musashi was also visited on some occasions. The icons were then ceremonially displayed at the Nada Shrine, and the old raiments and brocade casings were placed in a dugout and released into the Hayasui Strait that separates Kyushu from Shikoku. At some point in the history of the Stately Progress, however, it seems that oracles revealed that the three deities themselves wished to be sent to the palace of the dragon on the ocean floor, or that they wished to visit Hachiman shrines located on the westernmost shores of Shikoku Island; the statues were then added to the objects placed in the dugouts—which explains why Hachiman statues sharing the style found in Nada are found in those shrines as well. Some Japanese scholars say that a change of the statues every six years is unthinkable; however, they cannot explain why the Nada and Yano Shrines have a considerable

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number of Hachiman statues in their possession, and it is possible to suggest that the statues were replaced a number of times, even though the extant documents provide little or no information on the subject. It is not clear whether statues or their raiments were renewed at all during the Edo period, as a consequence of which it is probably adequate to view the Stately Progress as a phenomenon that spanned the time between the eighth and eigtheenth centuries. Several issues may be raised with regard to the nature of this ritual progress, which was a major and fairly unusual undertaking in the realm of shrines, even in sites of cult sponsored by the court. These issues will be discussed below in two steps: first, the rite’s spatial dimensions, and second, its iconographic characteristics. This Usa Shrine-­temple ritual differed substantially in these respects from that of the Suwa complex, whose sacred poles were taken to the shrine in a straight line across rivers, plains, and hills, and were felled in forests set aside for this purpose (soma); and it differed from the Ise Shrines’ isochronal rebuilding ritual, in which case the materials needed for the new shrines were taken from estates scattered around the country and were brought to Ise in sometimes spectacular a manner. More research on Usa is needed before a final conclusion can be reached, but it seems that the eight shrines in front of which the lordly raiments and pillows were paraded not only enjoyed a close relation to the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex but were somehow related to its origins, and that their participation in the ritual was not gratuitous, in that it involved claims to territorial dominance on Usa’s part. This matter will be examined on the basis of a presentation of what is known about these shrines, and the route of the last leg of the progress from Usa to Nada will then be compared to the estates of the Kunisaki Peninsula and to the course taken by its mountain ascetics in their peregrinations. The Komo Shrine was a large site of cult, as is evidenced by several painted representations of the medieval period. The Compendium of Hachiman Oracles of the fourteenth century claims that water-­oat was taken there as early as 719 but that claim may be rejected in view of the fact that the Yahata Shrine was erected only in 725, and the Usa and Komo Shrines were located in different administrative districts anyway, which should have precluded such practices at the time. Furthermore, according to Iwashimizu documents the Komo Shrine came under authority of the Usa sacerdotal house only at the end of the Nara period, at which point a member of the Usa house took the name Ikemori (Pond Guardian), thereby establishing a new sacerdotal house.18 There was originally no shrine at Komo, it is said, for Misumi Pond itself was (the residence or

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substance of) the kami, and rites were performed by a boulder situated at the edge of the pond. Nevertheless, a shrine was erected during the Jōwa period (834–48) and a rather impressive jingūji, of which some elements are visible today, was built in 1109 and evolved into a major regional site of cult. The history of the Komo Shrine-­temple complex is almost impossible to retrace, for sources were burnt in the successive disasters that were wrought on that site of cult by the Ōtomo warlords during the medieval period. It was reported at the end of the Edo period that the Komo Shrine had a “secluded site of cult” (oku no in) located on Mount Hachimen (not to be confused with Hachiman), a Shugendō site of cult located directly south of it. It is also said that five Hachiman sub-­shrines (the Chōnodate, Chōsan, Naritsune, Hiwarabi, and Wakamiya Shrines) were under its control, and that it managed a temporary shrine (tongū) at Wamahama, where its officiants performed a variety of rites related to the Usa Hachiman Rite of Release of Living Beings. The Tsumagaki Shrine was said to be dedicated to Himegami, the kami enshrined at Usa in the second shrine, and about which many opinions concerning its identity or origins have been expressed over time. This shrine was located next to a horse relay that connected the district offices of the Buzen and Bungo provinces in the eighth century; this may be a reason for its importance and the variety of opinions concerning its status. It had a jingūji called Fugenji or Fugendō, which was placed under the authority of the Nakatsuoji, the Buddhist temple associated with the second of the three shrines of Usa. This jingūji gradually fell into disrepair during the Edo period, no doubt because the Stately Progress had been abolished by then. Often confused in documents of the medieval period with the Komoi Shrine (itself not to be confused with the Komo Shrine), the Kōrise Shrine appears to be very old and to have been governed by the Hita house, a branch of the Karashima sacerdotal house. Archaeological excavations in its immediate vicinity have unearthed a Korean bronze bell that is the oldest found in Japan so far, as well as a number of buildings that may have been part of the district offices during the Yamato and Nara periods, and may have led to the name of the shrine, “District stream” (Kōrise). The Sakai Izumi Shrine, sometimes called more succinctly Sakai or Izumi, is also located near a pond and a spring used for lustration rites. This site of cult appears briefly in a number of documents; it remained under the sacerdotal authority of the Karashima sacerdotal house up to 1868. It is reported in a number of legends that Hachiman, assisted by a female kami called Takashi-­tsuhime and identified as the ancestor of the Karashima sacerdotal house, underwent rites of purification at this shrine. It is not clear whether the shrine itself had a

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jingūji, but a member of the Karashima house, a certain Raigen, was an ordained Buddhist monk who restored the institutions of Mount Kubote, an important Shugendō site of cult located on the eastern edge of Mount Hiko, about fifteen kilometers away from this Komo Shrine. The Otohime Shrine is also the site of a spring said to have been dug by one of the first members of the Karashima house, a certain Otome, and its compounds include a funeral tumulus of the sixth century. The Ōnegawa Shrine does not appear in ninth-­century documents, and it is not clear when it was included in the ritual progress; it fell, nonetheless, under direct authority of the Usa sacerdotal house. The Oyamada Shrine has a long history; it was reported in the early ninth century that the original shrine erected by Ōga no Higi and dedicated to “Yawata” on the summit of Mount Maki (Omoto) was transferred to Oyamada in 716, and in 725 was moved to its present location on Ogura Hill. It is in this Oyamada Shrine, apparently, that rites were performed at the time of the Hayato uprisings in the second decade of the eighth century, and it is believed that “Hachiman” requested a pillow filled with water-­oat when he was in residence at this shrine, and that the very first Rite of Release of Living Beings was performed there as well. The Oyamada sacerdotal house claimed descent from Ōga no Higi; it governed this shrine, and one of its members was traditionally appointed Inspector of the Lordly Raiments at Usa at the time of the Stately Progress. Despite its early importance, this shrine is today of low status in the overall ranking of shrines, and looks abandoned. The Tabue Shrine was located on the boundary between Buzen and Bungo provinces and was the first shrine visited at the time of the Stately Progress, although it may have been an ancient and important site of cult, and a document of the medieval period states that there was no shrine building, only a sacred pine tree. It is today a desolate site containing a small shrine in disrepair. In light of the importance and scope of the Stately Progress for several centuries, the paucity of historical records concerning these shrines is frustrating. The earliest mention of the majority of the shrines involved in the Stately Progress occurs in the early ninth century, by which time historical facts must already have become the object of truncated or selective memorialization such as one finds in the narratives that sustained the formation of the Hachiman cult. Indeed, the kami of these shrines are presented in the available documents as having helped various journeys undertaken by the Great Bodhisattva Ninmon (putative founder of the Kunisaki Peninsula’s system of twenty-­eight temples and regarded as a reincarnation of Hachiman); this assistance consisted in providing him with water, rice-­brew (miki), or local food delicacies. While these

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documents provide bits and pieces of a narrative that is not without interest, they cannot be viewed as reliable historical records, however, and only conjectures are left. It may be that these shrines were located on the oldest estates of the Usa Shrine-­temple complex (it is said, for example, that Misumi Pond was the result of a dam built by the Buddhist monk Hōren, on land commended to him by the emperor in the eighth century), or that they were sites of cult to which ancient communities had been attached before they fell under Usa’s control in the early eighth century. It may also be the case that they were related to the history of the infiltration of the region by the Karashima house, or to that of the Usa or Ōga houses. Still and all, these shrines were all located near sources of water used to develop rice fields, and they remained closely associated in the context of the Stately Progress: the progress along the paths linking these shrines appears to be one of the longest such courses ever evidenced in the history of ancient shrines in Japan. As for the ritual display of icons, it may have originated in a memory of the multi-­cultural roots of separate communities in the region, and may also have served as a reminder of the powerful unifying force of the court-­sponsored Hachiman cult. The second leg of the progress, during which the old icons were transported to the Nada Hachiman Shrine located on the southeast side of the Kunisaki Peninsula, also contains noteworthy ritual aspects. Leaving aside the Wakamiya, Ichinomiya, and Shirakami Shrines (which were only sites of rest), attention must be paid to the end of the progress, the Nada Hachiman Shrine. The course of the procession followed the northern foot of the Tahara horst and made a short inroad into the Kunisaki Peninsula through the hamlet of Ōtamura. This inroad appears to be related to the course of the peregrination that evolved in Kunisaki because if one compares the course of the ritual progress with that of the peregrination, one sees that a triangular zone corresponding to the hamlet of Ōtamura was ignored by participants in the peregrination, and that there was no Buddhist temple in it. This suggests that the second leg of the Stately Progress had territorial overtones related to a distinction between shrine and temple estates, and that the Kunisaki Peninsula was clearly separated from the rest of the region. This is especially intriguing—in light of the fact that the narratives concerning the Stately Progress associate the course with the quest for nirvān.a on the part of the Great Bodhisattva Ninmon, who was a central object of cult in the Kunisaki Peninsula and was regarded as the creator of its peregrination. Ninmon, however, is a highly elusive figure. Facing the Inland Sea and situated at the foot of hills on whose summits fires were tended to guide maritime traffic, the Nada Hachiman Shrine may well

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form, together with the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex and the Imi Betsugū-Hachiman Shrine on the northern coast of the peninsula, an important triad of sites of cult in northeast Kyushu, but it is not quite clear why the old icons, lordly raiments and pillows were taken to so distant a site. It is not clear either when the practice of releasing these objects into the sea came into effect, what it exactly meant and when it was abandoned, or what the nature of the contacts between Nada and the other Hachiman sites of cult located on the western coast of Shikoku Island was. The release of various cultic objects into ponds, rivers, or the sea is seen throughout South and East Asia, but it seems that the present case is slightly different, in that medieval documents explicitly associate the release of the icons into the sea with the entrance of Ninmon into nirvān.a. This rite may well have its origins in a common practice among sea-­ people in northern Kyushu that was borrowed by the Usa Hachiman cult, but there is no evidence to that effect; it is far more probable that Daoist rituals of purification introduced to Japan by Buddhism either were at the origins of the practice, or at least became its dominant feature, but this issue must be left unresolved at the present juncture because of the complexity and variety of rites of purification in Asia. A second feature, already noted above, is that the progress followed a course placed exclusively on estates managed by the shrines of Usa and avoided those belonging to the temples associated with these shrines, a fact which suggests that the people of the area drew a clear distinction between the two types of estates, and that this may have defined the character of the traveling icons accordingly. This is all the more interesting in light of the fact that the other main rite of Usa, the Release of Living Beings, also involved releasing objects into the sea, but was essentially a Buddhist rite in which monks were in a central position, whereas sacerdotal houses occupied a peripheral position. The confounding ambiguities of these characteristics are suggestive of the competition for interpretive dominance between shrine and temple prelates, a competition that is typical of the main rites of shrine-­temple complexes during the medieval and early modern periods. Thus, the ritual release of the icons into the sea seems to have included elements that were perhaps pre-Buddhist or Daoist, either in origins or as accretions but very ancient in any case, and it involved a number of shrines directly related to estates to which their sacerdotal managers claimed the right to tax, and to localities they claimed to control. There is little doubt that the Komo Shrine and its water-­oat represent agricultural practices predating wetland rice cultivation. It is also probable that the eight shrines involved in the Stately Progress carried on ancient traditions related to food offerings, and it is possible that some of these traditions contained traces of

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pre-Hachiman cults in the region. Still, there is little or no doubt that these shrines came to be dominated by the Usa Hachiman cult, that their sacerdotal officiants and communities fully participated in, or attempted to control, the cultural domain carved out by the Hachiman cult, and that the Stately Progress reinforced local hierarchies and land-­related alliances or patterns of dominance. Finally, it might be suggested that the Stately Progress was inscribed within the larger context of the Hachiman cult’s territorial features, a prominent metaphor for which was travel. As was stated in the preceding chapter, the narratives of the Ōjin mythological cycle contained in Kojiki and Nihon Shoki were predominantly travel and conquest narratives related to the sea routes connecting Japan to the Korean Peninsula and passing through the Inland Sea, followed the Pacific coast all the way to Kashima in the Kantō area. Another route followed the Japan Sea coast of western Japan from south to north, while yet another route crossed from the western to the eastern coast, a course along which one sees rituals and various sites of cult connected to the Azumi sea people. Furthermore, the Tamuke Hachiman Shrine of the Tōdaiji Temple as well as the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex were related to the protection of the court; many of the thousands of Hachiman sub-­shrines found in Japan were erected in conditions usually related to the spread of these narratives or to the memorialization of people who died in subsequent battles. Hachiman was, essentially, tutelary and territorial an entity; its protection was beseeched around a country crisscrossed by roads, surrounded by sea routes and as if pockmarked by historical happenings in relation to which the sites of cult functioned as mnemotechnic devices and as local anchors for narratives. This territorial feature might explain why the lordly raiments were made in Kyoto and shipped across the Inland Sea, why the icons were made to travel from Komo to Nada, and why they were taken by boat to the Hachiman Shrines of Yawatahama and Uwajima in Shikoku, directly across from Nada. It would be wrong, then, to think of Kyushu and Kyoto simplistically in terms of “center” and “periphery,” for while there may have been several peripheral areas, there were obviously several centers at that time in Japan, and it is only through a complex system of give-­and-take between the court and other centers, through a ritual economy so to speak, that the court attempted to set itself up as “the center” (but never succeeded). The Hachiman cult thus undergirded the polycentric character of the court’s territoriality, and the various ritualized journeys (routines) that were replicated through the centuries formed one of that territoriality’s geotypical aspects, while memorial rites and the very regularity of their performance formed one of its chronotypical aspects. These geotypical and chronotypical

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aspects were equally the object of narratives, for they had to do with the temporal and spatial aspects of “central” and “local” powers. Furthermore, each of these rites was inscribed within a certain modality of historical consciousness that is evident in the overall emphases on purification, renewal, atonement, and penance, with which they were shot through. They also served to characterize and enhance the otherworldly nature of imperial figures as well as the imperial nature of Hachiman, a feature best analyzed in relation to the raiments in which the icons representing this unique entity were dressed. The term lordly raiments (goshōzoku) is found in other cults as well as in court rituals where they hold a prominent place and indicates that some statues placed in temples or shrines were covered with garments from the Nara period on to the late nineteenth century, when the practice was abandoned. The best known such case is that of the famed statue of Kannon in the Yumedono Hall of the Hōryūji Temple. Surprisingly enough, there is no scholarly analysis of the clothing of statues in the Japanese cultic context, and none in a book dedicated to Hachiman imagery; this lacuna in the treatment of iconography may have been caused by the systematic reduction of statues and the like to objets d’art, a reduction that may have been inevitable in the problematic institution of museums but that should not have been inevitable in the realm of art history. The first critic of this reduction, perhaps, was Nietzsche, who condemned Kant when he wrote, “All I wish to underline is that, like all philosophers, instead of visualizing the aesthetic problem from the point of view of the experiences of the artist (the creator), Kant reflected on art and the beautiful only from the point of the view of the “spectator” and in doing so unconsciously introduced the “spectator” himself into the concept “beautiful.”19 In other words, best put by Pierre Bourdieu, “the inadequacy of scholarly discourse derives from its ignorance of all that its theory owes to its theoretical relation to the object.”20 In a study published in 1928 and entitled Le Bouddha Paré (“The Adorned Buddha”), however, Paul Mus has conclusively shown that the iconographic representation of ornate raiments on statues of the Buddha was directly related to doctrinal issues concerning the body of the Buddha, in that they symbolized his role as a universal ruler (cakravartin), that is, as a political figure.21 This study invites one to ask whether Hachiman might have been conceived of along similar lines; furthermore, the issue of clothing and political symbolism was central in ancient Japan, as is abundantly clear in the imperial funerary rituals, in the Shingon and Tendai rituals of protection of the imperial body via the ritual use of a set of the emperor’s ceremonial clothes, and in the entire system of clothing in relation to court rank and status. Treating Hachiman imagery as though the emperor had

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no clothes bars access to the complex Shinto-Buddhist character of Hachiman and to its politico-­religious dimension. The Hachiman cult was formalized under direct Buddhist influences, first under the impact of the Maitreya cult imported from Korea and subsequently managed by Hossō authorities; second, under the pervasive influence of the Lotus Sutra in Kyushu; and third, under the influence of Pure Land devotion. It also evolved as a cult of protection of the territory claimed by the court, however, and in this connection received variegated accretions from non-Buddhist practices and ideas of Chinese, Korean, or “native” manufacture. The ritual assembly of Release of Living Beings, for example, was a rite of atonement intended to do away with the ritual pollution garnered by the court’s political decisions to kill human beings in the process of territory building; while this ritual assembly appears to have Buddhist origins, its performance in Kyushu was contextualized by the non-Buddhist parameters of the opposition between purity and pollution, and by oracular pronouncements.22 Furthermore, the image of the human body was fundamental to politico-­ religious representations in Heian Japan: the court’s realm was conceived of in a relationship of non-­duality with the body of the emperor, while the emperor’s physical body was subjected to a plethora of rituals of both Buddhist and nonBuddhist character. The punishment of offenses against the court was primarily meted out on the body. Movements of the body through space were subjected to the complex rules of directional taboos.23 Every single aspect of bodily behavior was the object of etiquette, ritual, and protocol, from the emperor’s hairdo to the shaving of a monk’s head. So was clothing, which indicated status and rank, and it is in this realm that pertinent questions concerning the clothing of entities such as Hachiman may be asked. Following the study on the Ornate Buddha mentioned earlier, it can be advanced that Hachiman was treated both as a stand-­in for the imperial figure (since Hachiman was the deified form of “Emperor” Ōjin), and as a Buddha in his “body of retribution” (sam.bhoga-­kāya). That is, Hachiman was not conceived of as either a mere kami or only as the local manifestation of a Buddha (suijaku). Nor was he thought to be a manifestation equivalent to the body of transformation or metamorphosis (nirmān.a-­kāya), and most definitely not a body of essence (dharma-­kāya) of the Buddha. Instead, it can be proposed, Hachiman was regarded as the equivalent of a sam.bhoga-­kāya, which is why he was given the title of Bodhisattva and explains why it was thought that his “sermon” took the form of oracles deemed important to the imperial realm and to the sacerdotal lineages of the shrine-­temple complexes of Tamuke in Nara, of Iwashimizu near

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Kyoto, and of Usa—and to the Buddhist prelates who attempted to control the cult.24 As was suggested in the preceding chapter, these prelates succeeded in that endeavor when they denounced female mediums, accusing them of not having a male body and of never having been entitled to speak in the name of the Buddha in any scripture, and when they usurped their role as mouth-­pieces of Hachiman and began to receive oracles without female mediation.25 Thus conceived along the lines of a Bodhisattva’s sam.bhoga-­kāya characteristics, the body of Hachiman represented the ritualized, symbolic body of the court in relation to territory and violence, and took on the polluting aspects of imperial rule. This explains why it was thrown to the sea in the manner of the rituals of purification practiced in aristocratic circles at the time.26 It is not that time impoverished the presence of the divine entity in the statue representing it, but that the cycles of violence generated by the court induced a state of pollution needing cleansing. In this context then, the lordly raiments changed every six years at the time of the Stately Progress were a central iconographic and spatial feature of the entire Hachiman cult.

Mount Hiko: of swords, meteors, dragons, and goshawks It is said in Hikosan Ruki that the Ryōsenji, Mount Hiko’s main temple, consisted in the early thirteenth century of more than 200 meditation halls inhabited by 110 resident monks (kōshū) and 205 sendatsu (literally, “guides,” a term referring to the upper echelons of yamabushi as separate from the scholarly monks), and that Mount Hiko’s sacred realm consisted of forty-­nine caves (kutsu) located both within and beyond the perimeter that had been established in 1181 and where yamabushi engaged in ascetic practices; it also presents short narratives about several of these caves, such as the following. One: Wisdom Cave (also called Jewel Cave (Tamaya)) The Three Avatars brought from the country of Magadha (India) a precious jewel and deposited it in this mountain’s Wisdom Cave so that it may benefit Japan’s population. Hearing of the jewel, the anchorite named Hōren lived in seclusion in this cave for twelve years and recited the Diamond Sutra with an undisturbed and unified mind, strictly according to prescription. Within that time he managed to retain only the first book of the scripture in his mind. As he was thus dedicating this service to the Three Avatars while addressing a pledge to the Great Bodhisattva Hachiman, a gray-­haired elder joined him and devoutly attended to his needs. The

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anchorite Hōren asked the elder, “Where are you from?” The elder responded, “From the vicinity of this mountain.” The anchorite Hōren then said, “Your mind of devotion is superb, and the bond we are now forming shall last not a mere one or two lifetimes, but many lifetimes over ages to come. When my ascetic exercises enable me to acquire a precious jewel, I will grant it to you.” The elder was thrilled upon hearing these words and left. Thereafter, in accordance with Hōren’s vow, pure water started flowing from the cave and a Kurikara dragon emanated from it and disgorged the jewel. The anchorite’s ecstasy pervaded his heart-­mind and body, while tears of elation streamed down his cheeks; he joined his hands to form the mystic hand configuration of concentration and wisdom, and, spreading out his left sleeve, deposited the priceless jewel on his vestment. He then paid visits of gratitude, first to the mountain’s Upper Shrine, and then to Usa Hachimangū.27 [. . .] Called Wisdom Cave after the discovery of the sword, the cave was then renamed “Jewel Cave” upon the appearance of the jewel. One drop from the dragon source whence the jewel issued can heal a myriad ills, delay aging and enhance the beauty of women, and for these reasons monks and laymen from the entire country pay their devotions to it, and men and women come from the eight directions to worship it. The sacred water neither increases nor decreases, rain does not add to it, nor does heat evaporate any of it. This excellent dragon water of no increase/no decrease is a marvelous medicine of supernatural potency and is not dry, even at this very moment.28

Hikosan Ruki also notes that the three hundred male residents of the mountain participate in a large number of ritual assemblies, among which are the Dengyō Daishi Goe on the fourth day of the sixth month (dedicated to Saichō, patriarch of the Tendai Buddhist school); the Nefugyōe (as it is pronounced in Kyushu) during the eighth month (dedicated to ritual copying of the Lotus Sutra, the main scripture of Tendai Buddhism); and the Kaizan’e during the eleventh month (performed in Mount Hiko’s most important and famous cave, Jewel Cave, in honor of the fictional founder of the site of cult, a Chinese monk named Chan-­zheng. By the fourteenth century Mount Hiko had indeed become a prominent site of cult and it went on developing to such an extent that it came to require major governance: in 1333 Utsunomiya Nobukatsu, the steward (jitō) of the Shiroi district of Buzen Province, invited Imperial Prince Annin, the sixth son of Emperor Go-Fushimi (r. 1298–1301), to become abbot of Mount Hiko, a position he assumed under the name Joyū.29 The position of abbot was passed thereafter from father to son, and Mount Hiko became a monzeki, a vast institution ruled hereditarily by abbots of imperial origins.30 Joyū was married and therefore unable to reside in the Ryōsenji Temple itself, which was off-­limits to women, and he established his offices in the Kurokawa-­in temple in Kurokawa, south of the mountain, like the princely abbots of Mount Hiei who resided in Sakamoto

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at the foot of the mountain on Lake Biwa’s western shore, or the princely abbots of Nikkō, who resided in Edo.31 Mount Hiko thus came to be directly related to both warlord and imperial cultures during the medieval period. As a consequence of the hereditary transmission of the abbacy among members of aristocratic lineages and of warlord patronage, Mount Hiko’s power and influence reached their apex in the Muromachi period (1336–1573), and it was then that shrines dedicated to Daigyōji (a combinatory entity symbolizing all the deities worshipped on the mountain) were constructed on the growing number of estates Mount Hiko’s abbots came to control in northern Kyushu.32 These circumstances provide us with a glimpse of the formal and institutional differences that caused the cultic sites of Usa, Mount Hiko, and Kunisaki to develop separately even as they were geographical neighbors: after 1181 and up to the fourteenth century, Mount Hiko was administered locally but fell under the influence of prelates of the Shōgo-­in of Kyoto (and of the Onjōji as well), and it therefore evolved as a Shugendō center dominated by Tendai esotericism (taimitsu). The Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex was placed under the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex at that time, and it therefore produced a system related to that institution’s imperial character and its taimitsu sphere of influence. The Kunisaki Peninsula’s “Conglomerate” was entrusted to Mount Hiei’s Mudōji Temple and thereby fell under the influence of the Sannō (taimitsu) cult, and its Shugendō aspects were further influenced by Kumano Shugendō, controlled by the Onjōji Temple located on Mount Hiei’s southeastern flank. This form of Shugendō had a great impact on Mount Hiko, as a result of which Kumano Shugendō’s putative founder, En no Gyōja, eventually came to be regarded as the founder of Hiko Shugendō’s practices, and also of some practices found in the Kunisaki Peninsula. The Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex and Mount Omoto also came to be deeply marked by this form of Shugendō. The necessity to treat Mount Hiko’s sacred character in terms of time/space (chronotypes and geotypes) may by now be obvious enough, although it is not often realized that this sacred character may also be analyzed in terms of what might be called its nocturnal architecture, for nights were the domain of a specific knowledge that served as the ground for the inscription of a number of rituals through the performance of which Mount Hiko’s anchorites oriented themselves in relation to time, space, and salvation. Two salient elements of this architecture will be discussed in the following paragraphs, for its nocturnal dimension was the first characteristic of sacredness mentioned in Mount Hiko’s medieval narratives. According to these, the original manifestation of Mount Hiko’s sacred entities was a cataclysmic event of cosmic

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proportions, in that the three avatars (gongen) manifested themselves in Japan after they hurled five swords into the sky, from as far west as India. These swords traveled eastwards through the atmosphere, made a stop at Mount Tiantai (Tendai in Japanese) in eastern China, and eventually plunged deep into Japan’s mountainous ranges. The first sword careened through the night and was thrust into one of Mount Hiko’s rocky recesses, where it was transformed into an eight-­ faceted crystal and caused a source of water to appear. The remaining swords landed, respectively, on Mount Ishizuchi on Shikoku Island, Mount Yuzuruha on Awaji Island, Mounts Kiribe and Kannokura in Kii Province—these last two mountains being part of the Kumano area.33 Hikosan Ruki reads as follows: After they had hurled five double-­edged swords eastwards into the sky from the country of Magadha [India], the Three Avatars left the traces of Wang-­tzu Jin on Mount Tiantai in China on the year kinoe tora [534 CE] and, charily sailing the waves abutting the western land, reached the mists and clouds of this eastern region. [. . .] The primal manifestation of the Three Avatars assumed the shape of an eight-­faceted crystal rock, three shaku and six sun in size.34 The first sword the Three Avatars had thrown from India was discovered atop Wisdom Cave. At that time the substance of the Three Avatars separated itself among forty-­nine caves. [. . .] Thereafter, eighty-­two years passed; the Three Avatars recovered the second sword on Mount Ishizuchi in Iyo Province in the year tsuchinoe ushi [658], and returned to Mount Hiko with it. Six years later [664], the third sword was recovered on Mount Yuzuruha in the province of Awaji, and was moved back to Mount Hiko. After yet another six years [670], on the twenty-­third day of the third month, the fourth sword was searched for in Kii Province, District of Muro, and was found on Mount Kiribe above Tamanaki Gorge, and it was brought back to Mount Hiko as well. Then, after sixty-­one years passed [730] the fifth sword was found on the twenty-­third day of the second month, south of Kumano Shingū on Mount Kannokura, and it was also removed. After yet another sixty-­ one years elapsed [790], its spirit was invoked east of Shingū in the valley of Yabuchi, north of the Suga Shrine, where it became the object of devotions.

Map 9  Landing sites of the five swords

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Chinzei Hikosan Engi (1572) offers a somewhat similar report but gives much earlier dates, varying with those of Hikosan Ruki by as many as fourteen cycles of sixty years, and by as few as ten cycles: In ancient times the Buddha, as a great king of compassion who ruled the land of Magadha in India, wished to benefit living beings in this eastern region [Japan]. He launched five swords into the sky while uttering this oath: “May they land in an auspicious space.” In the year [247 BCE] he ordered the first sword’s brilliance to come to a halt on Hiko Peak, while he placed a wish-­fulfilling gem inside Wisdom Cave in order to realize his vow to convert multitudes in the future. [. . .] After 655 years passed [183 CE] the second sword brilliance appeared on Ishizuchi Peak in the province of Iyo. Seven years later [177] the third sword brilliance rested on Yuzuruha Peak in the province of Awaji. After seven more years [171], the fourth sword’s flash of light reached the Tamanaki gorge of Mount Kiribe in the district of Muro, Kii Province. After sixty-­one years [111] the fifth sword brilliance landed on Kannokura Peak, south of Kumano Shingū. In the second year of the Sūjin reign period [96 BCE] it returned to this mountain in the form of an eight-­faceted, three foot-­six inch-­tall crystal.35

One may be tempted to see in these accounts a common theme concerning the origins of mountains that are sacred to the various forms of Esoteric Buddhism and Shugendō. Such was the case of Kōyasan, for example: on a pine-­tree growing there, Kūkai would have found the vajra ritual implement he had thrown east into the sky while he was still in China, vowing that the adamantine thunderbolt should land on an auspicious mountain site where—should he find it—he would establish Shingon Esoteric Buddhism. The five “gleaming swords” that landed on several Japanese mountains sacred to Shugendō, however, may have been comets streaking through nocturnal skies, dropping meteorites along the way, and the documents quoted above may be closer to the original understanding of the phenomenon than appears in Japan in the Chūkan Kanmon and Shozan Engi etiological narratives of Kumano in which the same story is reported—with the significant difference that instead of swords, mountains or parts thereof, said to have been dislocated from India in some major cosmic upheaval, would have “flown” to Japan. On their way they made a stop in China, where one can see on the grounds of the Lingyin-­ssu (in Hangzhou) parts of the flying mountain (called, in India, “Vulture’s Peak”), next to seventy-­two caves containing 338 statues, the most important of which represents the Buddha of the Future, Maitreya.36 The gate to the temple bears the name “Flying Mountain.”

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Edward Schafer has conclusively demonstrated the antiquity and importance of the association of swords with comets and meteors in Chinese literature, poetry, and astronomy, and he has detailed the role played by that association in Daoist cosmology and cosmography.37 Much of what Schafer wrote is applicable to Japan in general and to Mount Hiko in particular, because shrine-­temple complexes were repositories of Indian and Chinese astronomical knowledge and astrology. Schafer indicates that meteoric iron found in siderites was used to make weapons as early as the Chou dynasty, and that, “since the Chinese believed that meteors were star messengers, each with its unique message and that usually of war, the natural destiny of a meteor was to take the shape of a sword of power.”38 It is quite probable that the symbolism outlined above was known to Buddhist and Daoist circles in Japan prior to the eighth century, and that it was maintained and underscored by the medieval authors of the Mount Hiko narratives. A folktale originating in the valleys along the Hiko River basin may support this possibility, for it relates the origins of the village name Hoshii in the following manner: a band of robbers was attacking the said village, when a light emanating from the western horizon lit up the sky, and a red ball of fire leaving a gleaming tail behind it fell to the ground, frightening the robbers into dropping their weapons, and causing a vast hole to appear in the ground. That hole filled up with red water, hence the name of the site, “star-­well” (Hoshii).39 Schafer writes that some meteors were “bolides that careened through the upper air [. . .] and plunged into the earth, either fragmenting or preserving their unity,” and that they were confused with polished stone tools of the Neolithic era, which were “regarded as the former weapons of the thunder-­gods, hurled maliciously at the earth.”40 Furthermore, the Chinese not only viewed “a nicely tapered comet as a glittering blade in the sky,” they recognized several asterisms as an entire sword and routinely engraved astrological texts or figures of asterisms, especially of the Great Dipper, on the blades of treasure swords.41 This tradition was carried over to Japan where, for example, the imperial palace was protected in the four directions by treasure swords inscribed with asterisms and affixed to specific pillars.42 Schafer also underscores the fact that some of these antique swords can be seen today, and that “most stunning of these is a sword in the Shōsō-­in [Temple] in Nara—very possibly a royal Chinese gift to the pious Buddhist court of Japan. The blade displays several constellations interspersed with the figures of clouds and other magical vapors.43 The constellations consist of stylized patterns of small circles connected by straight lines. Some are difficult to identify, but a prominent one plainly represents the seven stars of the northern dipper.”44

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Esoteric Buddhisms in general and Shugendō in particular had a predilection for swords connected to the northern dipper, whose stellar formation can be seen as jewel incrustations or as incised inscriptions on many blades kept in various temples and museums. Indeed, many Japanese sword smiths were yamabushi. All incisions of seven stars did not necessarily represent the northern dipper, however, for some were simply representations of the five visible planets, to which the sun and moon were added; this might explain the number five found in the documents of Mount Hiko, although there is no local reference anywhere to any specific pentadic asterism, or any cross-­reference to actual observations of meteorites in court documents. It is probable, in any case, that the five swords hurled into the sky by the Three Avatars were meteors, and it is possible that the eight-­faceted crystal found atop Wisdom Cave was a meteorite incrusted with diamonds that originated somewhere in the southwest (where India was thought to be) because most meteorites were seen passing in the direction of the northeast, between the Dipper and Ox: “Three feet of gemlike crystal—shot at Dipper and Ox!”45 Schafer writes of these meteorites that quantities of tektites “have been found in beach sands of Hainan Island and in Tertiary and Pleistocene deposits on the Lei-­chou Peninsula, and that in the last-­named region they are known as ‘stones of the Thunder Lords,’ and are so named because they are often exposed by erosion in the wake of passing thunderstorms.” It is interesting to note that an article published on the Web on March 25, 2009 described “a meteorite scientists could match with a specific asteroid that became a fireball plunging through the sky [. . .] the dark rocks were full of surprises and minuscule diamonds.”46 It is thus not unthinkable that the “crystal” found above Wisdom Cave of Mount Hiko may have been a tektite shining with diamonds. Indeed, should doubts remain concerning the identification of Mount Hiko’s five swords with meteors and meteorites, it would be difficult to explain some significant associations that are found in the documents between meteors and goshawks on the one hand, and, on the other hand, between the “eight-­ faceted crystal” and dragons issuing from springs of water. These associations are clearly present in Chinese and Japanese lore and hold a prominent place in Mount Hiko’s literature. Says Hikosan Ruki, About these Goshawk Nest Caves: the Three Avatars were in the past imperial figures in China, and are now numinous divine entities in this solar land. Leaving the clouds of Magadha and facing toward the moon of this land, they first removed their imperial dress, decorated themselves with goshawk feathers and,

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flying more than ten thousand leagues over mountains and seas, came to rest onto this high mountain where they transformed themselves into stone goshawks, hence the name of these caves and the fact that goshawks are regarded as their hypostases. [. . .] Before twelve years elapsed, a divine snake [dragon] grasping a jewel emerged from the rock and presented it to Hōren. The monk then spread his sleeves with his two hands and, deliberate and self-­composed, took possession of it. The name Tamaya [Jewel Cave] is derived from that event. A clear spring of water gushes forth from the spot where the dragon appeared. No amount of rain can cause it to overflow, and no drought can cause it to dry up. In summer it remains extremely cold; and in winter [it remains] quite tepid. Sprinkling its water on one’s body can eliminate disease; drinking it enables one to extend one’s longevity. Should the world be about to suffer unusual changes, this water becomes turbid.47

Alluding to images commonly found in T’ang poetry, Schafer mentions recurrent associations found “in a linguistic atmosphere of secular conflict mixed with supernatural energies—weird vapors, eagles and goshawks, signal beacons and magic swords;”48 and he underlines a notion according to which “star-­swords were metallized dragons, most famous among which was a pair whose spiritual source and eternal habitation was the Dipper and Ox lunar stations located on the ecliptic between our Capricornus and Sagittarius, which together make up the twelfth zodiacal constellation ‘Star Chronicler.’ The numinous essence of these swords appeared as a purple vapor in the sky between these lunar stations, and became a theme on which poets have rung up virtually all possible changes.”49 The Dipper-Ox lunar station is one of twenty-­eight—a highly symbolic number to which we will return later on in this chapter—and corresponded to the northeast and to the winter solstice. The second association, that between swords and dragons, is also a well-­ attested and ancient notion according to which the spirits of swords were transformed into dragons, “their soul-­bereft metal remaining hidden in the sediment of the pool,” or to the effect that swords lost in a ford “down under the waves, resumed their dragon aspect.” Hu Tseng, for example, wrote a quatrain in which the following verses are found: Yesterday night seven stars were seen at the bottom of the tarn, Distinct and clear—divine swords were transformed into dragons.50

This Chinese meteor/sword/meteorite/dragon nebula of symbols was powerful, always connected to emperors, and such was the case in Japan as well: indeed, the jewel yielded to Hōren by the dragon residing in the pool of Mount Hiko’s

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Jewel Cave was granted to Hachiman (the “elder”) to protect the imperial line, and the appearance of the water of the spring associated with this crystal was said to forewarn of disasters threatening the court. These sword, dragon, and stellar images form a central feature of the symbolism that is found in the Hiko, Usa, and Kunisaki sites of cult, and they pervaded Shugendō as well. A shrine dedicated to the northern dipper, called Hokuto-­sha (“Northern Dipper Shrine”) is located within the compounds of the Upper Sanctuary of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, and legend says that the Lord of the Polar Star asked the sword smith Ōga no Higi to remove this shrine from its original location on the summit of Mount Omoto (also called Maki) and to rebuild it in Takai, located in Ueda on the right bank of Yakkan River—whence it was moved again to its present location on Mount Ogura, right next to the three Hachiman shrines. The same Lord of the Northern Dipper would have instructed Hōren to go look for the wish-­fulfilling gem on Mount Hiko. As was stated earlier, documents of the late Heian period report that Hachiman first manifested itself in 571 to the sword smith Ōga no Higi in the form of a three-­year-old child standing on bamboo leaves, and the Compendium of Hachiman Oracles informs us that Ōga no Higi saw a golden goshawk take the form of a three-­year-old child standing on a bamboo leaf.51 The northeastern region of Kyushu was thus pervaded by narratives and beliefs in which the northern dipper, goshawks, dragons, swords, sword smiths, comets, thunder, jewels, and sacred springs were associated, very much along the lines of the Chinese symbolism evidenced by Schafer and others. A type of sword often found in Shugendō and known as Kurikara Sword is either inscribed or adorned with a dragon, and several extant blades carry incisions of the northern dipper asterisms, but this is not where the congruence of symbols stops.52 Indeed, the nocturnal observations of the yamabushi and the centrality of the narrative describing Hōren’s acquisition of the wish-­fulfilling jewel from a dragon’s mouth suggest the overall coherence of several representations long held dear by Mount Hiko’s anchorites. Countless medieval documents reveal the extent to which the “wish-­fulfilling gem” (nyoi hōju; Skt. cintāman.i) pervaded the Japanese imaginaire, but one origin of the multi-­ faceted, even multi-­religious value of this symbol seems to have been forgotten even though pointers are literally strewn all over the place. Many such pointers have been alluded to in the few pages above, but their origins are to be found in early Chinese astronomy, and they concern the symbolism attached to the beginning of the solar year.

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Waiting for dawn on Mount Hiko: the geotype and chronotype of heterotopia Whether Mount Hiko was a site or object of cult before the introduction of Buddhism in the sixth century is impossible to determine, for the archaeological record is mute on the topic, and the oldest ritual implements found so far on the mountain date back to the ninth or tenth century; these implements are fragments of dishes found on Central and Northern Peaks, while glass beads as well as sutra containers made of bronze (kyōzutsu) were found on Southern Peak, the highest of the three.53 We have seen in the preceding chapter, however, that a Buddhist community must have been active on the mountain during the Heian period (no Heian period roof-­tiles have been found so far, but all buildings may have been thatched or covered with bark). There is no indication of how this Buddhist community may have conceived of Mount Hiko at the earliest stages of its history but, to all outward appearances, the first model that was used to conceptualize and represent the mountain was an understanding according to which Mount Hiko was the palatial residence of Maitreya, the Buddha of the Future. It is probable that this understanding dates back to the late Nara or early Heian period, when Maitreya cults developed in several parts of Japan.54 Yoshino’s Kinpusen Peak, for instance, was thought to be a site where Maitreya would become a Buddha and institute a new age, and for this reason became the goal of pilgrimage by aristocrats and others; the same is true of Mount Kasagi as well. The Hiko geotypical model now presented and allowing a space to be transformed into place is unmistakably related to the history of the Maitreya cult itself. It is well known that this cult was important in Nara and in Kyushu, and particularly so in Usa during the eighth-­century activities of Hōren and various Hossō monks. What is not known is when the Maitreya cult was given roots, so to speak, in such manner that a number of locales in Japan came to be viewed as the actual sites of residence, or of manifestation, of Maitreya. I have argued thirty-­nine years ago in an unpublished paper presented in Toronto that Fujiwara no Michinaga went to Yoshino’s Mount Kinpu to inter sutras and probably thought he was Maitreya as well. Buddhist scriptures describe Maitreya’s residence as consisting of two realms: an outer realm (ge-­in) extending down to this world, and an inner palatial residence (nai-­in) located in a transcendental space. These scriptures also state that the inner palatial residence of the Buddha of the Future consists of forty-­nine chambers, and it is this architectural detail that was used as the first template for Mount Hiko’s transformation from

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a simple mountain into the physical embodiment of Buddhist cosmographic principles and texts. Before describing this model, however, it is appropriate to underscore the remarkable importance of the Maitreya cult throughout Asia at the time by comparing the cosmographic basis of Mount Hiko with the elaborate architectural monument of Borobudur in Java, and with the establishment of the Tōdaiji in Nara. Borobudur was probably built during the first half of the ninth century in central Java upon an order issued by a Śailendra king; it has been the object of many studies, dominated by the 1932 work of Paul Mus.55 Jan Fontein published an elaborate analysis of the structure of the monument in relation to a fundamental scripture of Mahāyāna Buddhism, the Gan.d․avyūha, and saw the correlation between the structure of the monument and that of the narrative of Sudhana’s pilgrimage represented in the reliefs of the monument; as a matter of fact, Fontein deemed this correlation essential and dominant.56 More recently scholars have attempted to rethink the grand architectural design of Borobudur through its possible connection to the part of the Gan.d․avyūha that describes Sudhana’s arrival in Maitreya’s Inner Residence, and in this description of “Maitreya’s supernatural abode they perceived the vision materialized in the Javanese monument [. . .] as a conceptual framework of the monument’s design,” and suggested that “Borobudur as a whole should represent in plastic form the cosmic panorama depicted” in the scripture.57 Perhaps afraid that such a theory is incomplete and difficult to prove, Luis Gomez wrote that it nonetheless might contribute to a better understanding of the monument, and that one might “conceive of the Borobudur as a combination of elements [. . .] harmonized in the concept of the abode of Maitreya: it could simultaneously be a stūpa, a cosmic mountain, and perhaps, a type of man.d․ala (as a map of the correlation of the unmanifest absolute and man’s ascent to it with the manifest mundane sphere and the Bodhisattva’s descent from the absolute to reveal its presence in the world).”58 The issue raised above does not need to be settled here; what counts is the general notion that some Mahāyāna scriptures contain visions that are at the basis of monumental buildings in Asia, from Buddhist (and non-Buddhist) temples in India and Southeast Asia, Java, China and Japan’s Tōdaiji. As a matter of fact, Vajrabodhi taught esotericism in Java and met Amoghavajra there in 716; both went to China, and Amoghavajra taught Huiguo (Kukai’s master in China). This provides a good clue to the effect that some monks in Japan knew of Java. It is timely to recall that the Great Buddha of the Tōdaiji in Nara is related to the Avatam.saka Sūtra (Kegon-­kyō), and that this large temple was protected by

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Hachiman: the Kyushu visitors to Nara in the second half of the eighth century must have brought some of these notions back to the Usa area. What was Mount Hiko’s relation to the features presented heretofore? At some point during the Heian period (794–1185), forty-­nine caves located on or near Mount Hiko, connected by paths and used either for temporary seclusion or permanent residence, were associated with the forty-­nine chambers of the Inner Residence of the Bodhisattva Maitreya in the Tus․ita Heaven, where he was said to be awaiting the dawn on which he would become Buddha and initiate a new cosmic era. The earliest written trace of the association of Mount Hiko with that palace is found in Hikosan Ruki, in which it is said that the following event occurred during the first part of the seventh century: Without a thought for the merits they might earn in converting past, present, and future generations, the Three Avatars decided to protect the Buddha’s teachings and acted as generals, marshaling a myriad Adamantine Youths. Disclosing that the sacred mountain contained gold, they ordered the Adamantine Youths to mine that gold and gather building materials, and had them stored on the southern side of South Peak, stipulating that these materials should be used to erect a Great Lecture Hall in which Maitreya would give his sermon upon becoming the next Buddha. Ideal materials were found on the two other peaks as well. The architectural style and the substance of the materials used for that hall are radically different from those seen in the common world, so unique in fact, that it would be difficult to find anything alike in the sixty or more provinces of this country. These materials are Maitreya’s metamorphic body, whose function it is to protect the Buddha’s teachings.

The passage immediately following these lines is evidently about a somewhat later moment in history, but it must be included at the present point: An anchorite who resided in [a temple of] the West Compound of Mount Hiei went daily to the Sannō Shrines to pay his respects, and also spent his nights in the vicinity of the shrines. Having expressed a wish to contemplate the corporeal form of Maitreya, he was engaged in ardent meditative exercises without producing thoughts on any other matter, when he was granted the following oracle: “Stone materials for building have been found on the peaks of Mount Hiko in Chinzei [Kyushu] and are Maitreya’s actual metamorphic body. Go there and make offerings.” At this juncture, without even waiting for the sun to set he made arrangements for a periple to Kyushu. He scaled the mountain, and as he lay his eyes on those materials extreme happiness overcame him to the point he was unable to hold back tears of ecstasy. He spent seven days in seclusion by the sanctuary, whereupon he addressed the Avatars of the Three Sites: “Having

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received an oracle from the Sannō Avatars, I wish to be granted one piece of this material so that I may take it back with me and build atop Mount Hiei a temple where the relic embodying Maitreya will be enshrined.” He was granted a piece of it and took it back to the West Compound of Mount Hiei whence, from the Maitreya Hall he then erected, the relic worked wonders of unparalleled quality for the benefit of all living beings.59

Mount Hiko’s forty-­nine caves were given names and are listed in Hikosan Ruki, which also narrates stories and legends associated with these sites, as well as the names of the main deities and their guardians enshrined therein. These caves were situated on a rather vast expanse; not all of them have been identified today, however, for some have been abandoned in the course of history. Tamaya, or “Jewel Cave”, has always been mentioned first; it may have been the site of Mount Hiko’s oldest hermitage and, in any case, remained the most revered of the caves that were used by the anchorites for their austerities. The constitution of Mount Hiko as the site of residence of the Buddha of the Future before his apotheosis was structurally related to a chronotype Japan had not known before the introduction of Buddhism: the notion of cosmic renewal and of political and economic utopia. It was not before the eleventh century, however, that political figures understood the notion and associated themselves with this cult although Japan did not form radical political cults such as are found in China in relation to the Buddha of the Future. It is important to note here that the number forty-­ nine is also the number of stations where yamabushi rested during their vast mandalized peregrinations discussed in the third chapter.

Mount Hiko’s sacred perimeter: four corners and three dimensions As was indicated in the preceding chapter the perimeter (kekkai) of Mount Hiko was granted by Emperor Go-Shirakawa in 1181, when warlords were vying for power and when the court was losing political control over institutions and the land. I translate as “sacred perimeter” the term kekkai (literally, “bounded realm”), which refers to two practices originating in India where its equivalent signified the demarcation of an area in which deities were invoked, and by extension, the establishment of a consecrated zone for the arrangement of mandalas and for the construction of temples. In Japan this term referred to these two phenomena, but it was also used at least since the ninth century to refer to entire geographical areas set aside and commended exclusively to Shrine-­temple institutions, which

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meant that the government waved some rights to control, inspect, and draw taxes and corvées from the land it granted to these institutions, although once again it is necessary to emphasize that these institutions did not have actual ownership of the estates until the medieval period, when they began to claim such ownership and therefore caused conflicts with imperial and warrior laws. Such was the case of Mount Hiko in 1181, and the geographical aspects of the perimeter will be presented before the more arcane interpretations and social dimensions of the term are assessed. A kekkai area typically faces west (like mandalas), and in the overwhelming majority of cases the documents mentioning the boundaries of sacred sites mention the east corner first; this was also the case of Mount Hiko, and Mount Hiko’s perimeter was a seven-ri square area facing west,60 and large enough to include all sources of the main rivers of northeast Kyushu, which suggests that the early Heian period mountain dwellers might have controlled irrigation through their management of water shrines known as “water-­share shrines” (mikumari jinja). Little is known about the actual ways in which this management was conducted, but the phenomenon appears to have been so widespread that it must have been an effective and essential form of control. In other words, the inhabitants of all underlying agricultural areas depending on the rivers that originated on Mount Hiko’s slopes thought that the key to their survival, water, was generated by the powerful mountain entities to which the yamabushi dedicated cults. The yamabushi of Mount Hiko also used to follow, since at least the medieval period, the Ima River from its source to the sea, and the Harai River from the sea back up to its source, carrying sea-­water used to purify the grounds of the Main Sanctuaries before the performance of agrarian rituals and their cyclical mountain treks; in the course of this travel they stopped by several villages where they slept and exchanged various offerings, a fact which suggests how the yamabushi systematically developed close ties with inhabitants of the villages situated along these and other rivers, and why they participated in (and formulated) rituals related to fertility.61 Indeed, various Shugendō authors established systematic symbolic correlations between Buddhist doctrine and the agrarian rituals the yamabushi participated in, to the point that mountain ascetics became a ubiquitous presence in the rural landscape of pre-­modern Japan. The involvement of the yamabushi with water and agrarian rituals seems to have been a feature of Shugendō all over Japan, and it needs to be critically analyzed in the context of the origins and evolution of “native” agrarian rituals as much as it needs to be tested by means of systematic geographic and hydrological analyses in relation to ritual cycles.

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According to Hikosan Ruki the perimeter granted in 1181 was marked by four corners, which it identified with the four directions and with sites the document identifies as follows: East: Buzen Province, Kōge district, Unzen, Kuninakatsu River (Ōite entrance) South: Bungo Province, Yagata Kawakabeno, Hita district, Yasu (Ōzato) West: Chikuzen Province, Kannokura district, Mt Uchiwaki (Nishijima hamlet) Shimokura district: Shirikake Rock. North: Buzen province, Tagawa district, Gansekiji, Hottai Peak of Mount Kuramote.62 The boundaries of this perimeter were retraced on a regular basis by various cultic groups of Mount Hiko who engaged in ritual circumambulation of the mountain. Considered the oldest extant “map” of Mount Hiko, a diagram dated 1383 and kept today in Mount Hiko’s Shugendō Museum consists of seventy-­two black dots surrounding three red dots marking the three summits, all disposed to form a quasi-­oval shape. On the outer rim of this oval design the name of each site is written, and the names of the deities enshrined in these sites are inscribed on a yet larger rim. Claiming to be the copy of an older document, this diagram represents graphically a ritualized peregrination known as “greater circumambulation” (daie-­gyō, also pronounced ōmeguri-­gyō), which was actually twofold: a circumambulation performed every night around the summit of the mountain and called koshubi (short course), and a longer one performed only once during periods of asceticism. Called ōshubi (long course), this second course apparently followed, with more or less accuracy, the perimeter granted in 1181 and was marked by forty-­two stops at sites of devotion. The daie-­gyō devotional circumambulations of the mountain were engaged in by members of the mountain community known as sōgata, a group of yamabushi-­like figures who were directly affiliated with the shrines of Mount Hiko’s Shrine-­temple complex, and distinct from the “full-­time” yamabushi known as gyōjagata, who were directly related to the temples. It is likely that these men followed the monthly courses to perpetuate a particular aspect of the sacred character of Mount Hiko as well as to protect the mountain against robbers of wood and plants, and against military invasions. When military threats finally ceased in the seventeenth century the greater circumambulation was abandoned, and its exact course is now lost; the short course discussed below was abandoned in the late nineteenth century. The deities placed on the outer part of the diagram dated 1383 consist of two discrete groupings of pairs, each pair itself consisting of a main entity associated with its guardian deities (gohōjin); all were represented in

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statuary form and installed in the seventy-­two sites and three peaks found along the course of circumambulation. The first grouping consists of the twenty-­eight attendants to the Bodhisattva of Compassion (Kannon nijūhachibushū) and their guardians.63 The second grouping consists of the twelve attendants to the Buddha of Medicine (Yakushi jūni jinshō) to which were added the Bodhisattvas Nikkō (Sūryaprabha) and Gakkō (Candraprabha), who symbolize the sun and the moon and usually flank this Buddha, all associated with their own guardian deities. In actual geographical terms the grouping of the twelve attendants to the Buddha of Medicine and his two Bodhisattvas was positioned on the eastern (back) side of the upper part of Mount Hiko, starting to the north and ending at Central Peak, while the grouping of twenty-­eight attendants to the Bodhisattva of Compassion was positioned on the western (front) part of the mountain, starting at Central Peak and ending at North Peak. The exact location of many sites visited during both the short and the long circumambulatory courses around Mount Hiko is, however, an enigma. The short course was, from all evidence, a circumambulation around (and including) the three peaks; its starting point was the second torii situated on the path leading to the Lower Sanctuary (Gegū), which marked the separation between the residential areas and the upper zones of the mountain. Since a circumambulation revolves clockwise to follow the apparent course of the sun and thus keep the object of worship to one’s right side, the sōgata practitioners moved away from the torii in a northerly direction; they stopped at Buzen Cave (celebrated for its tengu) to the northeast, then moved further east to reach the Takanosu Caves; they then shifted south-­west and up to visit North Peak, Central Peak, and South Peak. From there they moved down and south to Ōminami Cave, west to Jewel Cave, and finally walked in a northwesterly direction to return to their starting point. The major division in the 1383 diagram appears to have been Central Peak (placed in the center of the upper part of the diagram), while the major division in the course itself appears to have been Jewel Cave, considered most sacred by the majority of the yamabushi; this cave’s location, however, did not make it a convenient starting or ending point for sōgata personnel, whose social status, cultic affiliations, and mythology, were different from those of the gyōjagata yamabushi. The first grouping on the 1383 diagram or map is called Kannon nijūhachibushū; it is a grouping of twenty-­eight attendants to the thousand-­handed and thousand-­ eyed Bodhisattva of Compassion, Senju Kannon (Sahasrabhuja sahasranetra Avalokiteśvara). This deity became an object of cult early in Japanese history and was particularly important in Tendai esoteric circles as one of a group of six

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Map 10  Location of known caves on Mount Hiko

Bodhisattvas of Compassion associated with the six destinations (rebirth levels). The thousand-­handed Kannon was placed at the head of this group: Senju Kannon (Sahasra-­bhuja): hells Shō Kannon (Āryāvalokiteśvara): hungry ghosts Batō Kannon (Hayagrīva): animals Jūichimen Kannon (Ekadaśamukha): asuras Juntei Kannon (Cundī): human beings Nyoirin Kannon (Cintāman.icakra): devas Senju Kannon was sometimes represented with 1,000 arms and hands, and with an eye located in the palm of each hand, as in the case of the famed statue kept in Sanjūsangendō Temple in Kyoto. It was sometimes represented with forty-­two arms, and in some cases its head was crowned with twenty-­seven smaller heads, the twenty-­eight heads symbolizing its twenty-­eight attendants (kenzoku). The seventh-­century sutra dedicated to Senju Kannon is the Senju sengen Kanzeon bosatsu kōdai enman muge daihishin darani-­kyō;64 it mentions many attendants, but the first list of twenty-­eight appears in a manual dated slightly later, the . ha Senju Kannon zō shidai hō-­giki said to have been translated by Śubhakarasim 65 (637–735). The names of the twenty-­eight attendants listed therein are as shown in Table no. 3.66

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Table 3  The twenty-eight attendants to Senju Kannon   1)  Misshaku kongōshi

15)  Deizuraida ō

  2)  Usū kunda ōkushi

16)  Jimmo nyotō dairikishū

  3)  Makei narada

17)  Birurokusha ō

  4)  Kombira dakabira

18)  Birubakusha ō

  5)  Basō baruna

19)  Bishamon tennō

  6)  Manzenshahachi shindara

20)  Konjiki kujaku ō

  7)  Satsusha mawara

21)  Nijūhachibu daisenshū

  8)  Rarantanda hangira

22)  Manidattara

  9)  Hippakara ō

23)  Sanshidatsu nanda

10)  Ōtokubita satsuwara

24)  Nandadatsu nanda

11)  Bomma sambachira

25)  Shura

12)  Gobujō kyo emmara

26)  Suika raiden shin

13)  Shakuō sanjūsan

27)  Rabanda ō

14)  Daiben kudoku badatsuna

28)  Bishasha

Source: Nihon no bijutsu No. 379 (Tokyo: Shibundō, December 1997), p. 36–37.

As mentioned above, the iconography and rituals dedicated to these twenty-­ eight attendants are first described in Senju Kannon zō shidai hō-­giki, and further esoteric details concerning the iconography and rituals were consigned by Jōjin (mentioned later in this chapter as the author of one of three interpretations of Hokke-­hō, the Lotus Blossom Ritual) in his Senju Kannon nijūhachibushū gyōzō myōgō hishaku.67 The names of the attendants differ in several respects in these two documents, but it is clear that the list found on the 1383 diagram of Mount Hiko faithfully follows the Senju Kannon zō shidai hō-­giki’s.68 If we take into consideration the legend found in Hikosan Ruki, according to which the king of hells did not dare oppose the Avatars of Mount Hiko and therefore released from his grip people who died in the course of their pilgrimage to this mountain, it is clear that the thousand-­handed manifestation of Kannon was associated, in the context of Mount Hiko’s geotypical and chronotypical structure, with the protection of those who were or would be reborn in the various Buddhist hells, and that it was the object of a cult characterized by the twenty-­eight attendants surrounding it in the ten directions. Each accompanied by a retinue of five hundred acolytes, these twenty-­eight figures were often called sen (“hermits,” also associated with the peacock-­king Kujaku-ō, Mayūri-­rāja), and iconographic directions found in ritual manuals stipulate that they should be arranged

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spatially in eight groupings in the following manner: four in each of the four directions, four to the zenith, four to the nadir, and one in each of the four corners associated with the central pivot of the universe (shi-­i). The second grouping of deities to which a cult was dedicated in the context of the circumambulation was that of the twelve attendants to the Buddha of Medicine. These were routinely represented in a circle at the center of which that Buddha and his two attending Bodhisattvas symbolizing the sun and the moon were situated, and were associated with a specific direction and a specific time of the day. Kubira (Skt. Kumbhīra) corresponded to the hour of the rat (midnight) and to the north; Basara (Vajra) corresponded to the hour of the bull (2:00 a.m.); Mekira (Mihira) corresponded to the hour of the tiger (4:00 a.m.); An.tera (And․ira) corresponded to the hour of the hare (6:00 a.m.) and to the east; Manira (Majira) corresponded to the hour of the dragon (8:00 a.m.); Santera (Śan.d․ira) corresponded to the hour of the snake (10:00 a.m.); Indara (Indra) corresponded to the hour of the horse (noon) and to the south; Haira (Pajra) corresponded to the hour of the ram (2:00 p.m.); Makora (Mahoraga) corresponded to the hour of the monkey (4:00 p.m.); Shindara (Sindūra) corresponded to the hour of the rooster (6:00 p.m.) and to the west; Shōtora (Catura) corresponded to the hour of the dog (8:00 p.m.), and Bikara (Vikarāla) to the hour of the boar (10:00 p.m.). The spatial arrangements (geotypes) defined and represented above entailed chronotypes differing from that discussed earlier in relation to the Buddha of the Future, in that these twelve figures, associated as they were with the twelve double hours of the day and with the six wild and six domesticated animals of the Chinese zodiac, were conceived of in relation to a desire for longevity, and in that the grouping of the twenty-­eight attendants was related to the six Kannon associated with the six destinations of rebirth, and with the twenty-­eight lunar mansions as well. As usual in the Indo-Chinese world of chronotypes, every temporal segment was associated with a specific spatial orientation, and this indicates that space was not conceived separately from time: Mount Hiko’s nocturnal architecture served to demarcate and orient, but it also served to express the basic notion that time might be expressed in spatial terms, and that space might be gauged in temporal terms. These specific arrangements and sets of associations point to fundamental understandings concerning the very conception of time and space, as pointed out by Lefèbvre in his mention of the zodiac: “Initially—and fundamentally— absolute space has a relative aspect. Relative spaces, for their part, secrete the absolute.”69 Through their ritual practices around the summits of Mount Hiko the yamabushi transformed a natural mountain in such a way that it appeared as

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transcendent and sacred, and the mountain accordingly became a reference point for larger understandings about the nature of the world, inasmuch as it became a symbol for relations of order, which is what a mandala is; this last feature will be discussed later on. The ritual circumambulation performed every night by the sōgata practitioners entailed specific spatial and temporal dimensions connected to esoteric rituals involving language, the body, specific meditations, as well as astronomy and astrology. Furthermore, the sites visited by the sōgata, the simple wooden architecture inside or in front of the caves, the temples and shrines dotting the mountain, and the multiple divinities to which complex cults were rendered were always qualified in such a way that they served to posit Mount Hiko as the center of space and therefore as the center of time as well, and these qualities were always resting on a single, ultimate foundation, that of nature, “though nature is hard to define in this role as the absolute within—and at the root of—the relative.”70 To use the terminology proposed by Cornelius Castoriadis, the yamabushi “leaned on” nature in a foundational gesture whose consequence was to legitimate their difference vis-à-­vis the rest of society and to establish their world as the world.71 The fact that the seventy-­two sites were visited during a nocturnal circumambulation may be explained by reference to the knowledge of astronomy that must have been available to the mountain community by the beginning of the medieval period. Indeed, several cultic sites in Asia had their sacredness validated by relation to the numbers twenty-­eight and seventy-­two. In an article on Borobudur, Alex Wayman has proposed that the different galleries of that monument correspond to a metaphorical day, to twilight, and to night; Wayman has argued that the seventy-­two stūpas on the upper terrace of Borobudur should be understood to correspond to the system of thirty-­six decanates, in which the number seventy-­two corresponds to thirty-­six star groups north and thirty-­six star groups south of the ecliptic. One might counter that this is mere coincidence, but it becomes more difficult to make such an argument when realizing that in China and Japan the solar year was divided into seventy-­two periods in the following manner. The solar year was divided into four seasons (kisetsu) made up of three parts: early (sho), middle (chū), and late (ban), each containing a “month” divided into two parts of approximately fifteen days. The first half of a given month was called “node” (sekki), and the second half was called “center” (chūki). A year thus consisted of “twenty-­four nodes and centers” (nijūyon sekki), which became the main markers of the passage of time and thus provided anchors for the performance of rituals, for astronomical

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observation (and divination), and for a plethora of symbols and understandings, such as those prominently found in the Tea ceremony. Furthermore, each of these twenty-­four periods was divided into three sections of five days known as “score” (kō), and a feature of the observed natural world was attached to each of these seventy-­two sections as well. It is even more difficult to make a counter-­argument when noting that in Daoism the sacred geography of China consisted of seventy-­two blissful realms, and that residents of the famed Chinese sacred mountain Nanyue (which contained four such realms) insisted on their claim that the mountain consisted of seventy-­two peaks, and that the Nanyue Temple at the base of the mountain had seventy-­two columns, each purported to be seventy-­two feet high.72 In Japan alone one can see the importance of the number in, for example, the seventy-­two pillars of the Toyokawa Inari Shrine, and other places as well. The number seventy-­two, then, may have had greater significance than appears at first glance. In my opinion, the schema of seventy-­two Buddhas seated atop Borobudur’s superimposed square platforms is difficult to separate from the 1383 schema of Mount Hiko representing seventy-­two entities installed near the summit of a mountain that was itself divided into the four superimposed layers presented below.

Altitude and altered states of mind: creating a Dōjō The boundaries within which Mount Hiko rose were not formed exclusively by an enclosure, a perimeter defined by imperial law in the twelfth century and retraced time and again by peregrinations on the part of the sōgata personnel. A far more elaborate type of modeling of spatial experience consisted in treating Mount Hiko as the geotypical and chronotypical model of the Tendai doctrine known as “the Four Lands Boundaries” (shido kekkai) and in considering the mountain, within the perimeter established in 1181, as consisting of four superimposed strata separated by shrine gates (torii) and in which life was subjected to constraints growing in severity as one reached higher altitudes through each of these gates. This model of spatial, cultic, and social experience may have been established in the late twelfth or early thirteenth century, perhaps even earlier. The model’s origins and purpose warrant a detailed presentation because it was the result of the concrete application of ritualized meditations connected to the Tendai Esoteric ritual known as “Lotus Blossom Ritual” (Hokke-­ hō), and its analysis demonstrates that it was the very site where “subjective” and “objective” spaces intersected in Hiko Shugendō. Included in the scriptures

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brought back from China by Kūkai (774–835), of which only a list copied by Saichō (767–822) remains, is a document entitled Jōjū myōhō renge-­kyō ō yuga kanchi giki said to have been translated—but more probably authored—by Amoghavajra (705–74, the monk who went twice to Java).73 It served as the basis for the performance of the Shingon esoteric Lotus rituals performed by Kūkai, and immediately drew the attention of Saichō who, by intermediary of his disciple Taihan, asked to borrow it and then sent his disciple Kōjō to study its practicum under Kūkai in 813. This remarkable document is a manual of instructions for a ritual of visualization known in Japanese as Hokke-­hō (Lotus Blossom Ritual) and is linked to the Lotus Sutra (the main scripture of the Tendai school of Buddhism and of Hiko Shugendō), and to the Mahāvairocana Sūtra (the main scripture of Shingon Esoteric Buddhism and one of the three main scriptures of Tendai Esoteric Buddhism). It has been the object of various interpretations on the part of scholarly monks during the Heian and Kamakura periods, and has served as the basis for coded meditational practices prescribed in a significant number of manuals, three of which should be mentioned at this juncture. The first manual, Hokke shiki, was authored by the Fujiwara-­born ecclesiast Jōjin (Zen’e Daishi, 1011–81, of the Miidera (Onjōji) Temple), the monk mentioned earlier as the author of the ritual and iconographic text concerning the Thousand-­handed Kannon. This, parenthetically, invites one to suggest that this particular work may have been known earlier by Mount Hiko’s scholarly monks. The manual in question is now lost but sections of it are found in the Shingon manual bearing the title Kakuzenshō and dated ca. 1182, and it seems to have had much influence on Jichin, the author of the third manual discussed below, who criticized its contents. The second, Gyōrinshō, was authored by Jakunen (dates unknown) in the middle of the twelfth century; a major manual for the performance of Tendai esoteric rituals, the Gyōrinshō was widely used and must have been known in Shugendō circles as well. This manual will be discussed in some detail below.74 The third manual, which will be discussed thereafter, is Hokke becchō-­shi and was written by Jichin (Jien, ?–1225), the famed prelate who authored in 1220 what is often, though inaccurately, characterized as the first “Buddhist” history of Japan, Gukanshō. The term “Lotus Blossom Ritual” designates one of four fundamental Tendai esoteric rituals (Tendai shiko no daihō), as is suggested by its reference to the primary floral symbol of Buddhism and to the Lotus Sutra, fundamental scripture of the Tendai establishment. As it was performed in Japan, the Lotus Blossom Ritual was a set of ritualized meditations leading to the subjective

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recovery of participation in the Buddha Śākyamuni’s preaching of the Lotus Sutra. It emphasized the eleventh chapter of the scripture in which another Buddha, called Prabhūtaratna (J. Tahō butsu, also known as Hōshō nyorai, lord of the eastern Realm Hōjō sekai) praises Śākyamuni and validates the contents of the Lotus Sutra by making a jeweled stūpa-shaped reliquary emerge from the ground and stay up in the air, and invites Śākyamuni to share his seat therein: At that time, Śākyamunibuddha, seeing that the Buddhas who were emanations of his body had all arrived, and seeing how each, seated on a lion throne, was hearing that the Buddhas together wished to open the jeweled stūpa, straightway rose from his seat and rested in mid-­air. All the four assemblies, rising with palms joined, single-­mindedly beheld the Buddha. Thereupon with his right finger Śākyamunibuddha opened the door of the seven-­jeweled stūpa, which made a great sound as of a bar being pushed aside to open the gate of a walled city. At that very moment all the assembled multitude saw the Thus Come One Many Jewels [Prabhūtaratna] in the jeweled stūpa, seated on a lion throne, his body whole and undecayed, as if [he were] entered into dhyāna-concentration. They also heard his words: “Excellent! Excellent, O Śākyamunibuddha! Happily have you preached this Scripture of the Dharma Blossom. It is to listen to this scripture that I have come here.” At that time, the four assemblies, seeing a Buddha passed into extinction for incalculable thousands of myriads of millions of kalpas speaking such words as these, sighed in admiration at something that had never been seen before, and scattered clusters of divine jeweled flowers over the Buddha Many Jewels and Śākyamunibuddha. The Buddha Many Jewels, in his jeweled stūpa, then gave half his seat to Śākyamunibuddha, speaking these words: “O Śākyamunibuddha, will you take this seat?” At that very moment Śākyamunibuddha, entering that stūpa, sat on half that seat, his legs crossed. At that time the great multitude, seeing the two Thus Come Ones in the seven-­jeweled stūpa on the lion throne, seated with legs crossed, all thought: “The Buddhas sit high up and far off. We wish that the Thus Come One, with his powers of supernatural penetration, would enable the lots of us together to dwell in open space.” At that very moment Śākyamunibuddha, with his powers of supernatural penetration, touched the great multitudes, so that they were all in open space.75

The object of the Lotus Blossom Ritual was, primarily, a re-­enactment of the vision outlined above and its emphasis was on the vision of the two Buddhas and on the subsequent vision of the multitudinous assembly levitating in open space. Apart from Amoghavajra’s manual, the oldest extant, complete prescriptions for its performance are contained in Gyōrinshō, compiled between 1141 and 1154.

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These prescriptions detail the nature and amount of offerings, the order of performance, the setup and decoration of various ritual platforms and mandalas, the texts and formulas to be recited and meditated upon, and contain the author’s musings about the meaning of technical terms and his considerations regarding variations in performance of the ritual by miscellaneous Tendai or Shingon lineages. As described in this manual, the ritual itself required seven days of preparation and took place over a period of either one, three, or seven weeks, or of three months. Its ceremonial undertaking entailed the participation of at least twenty figures whose ranks included the top and bottom of ecclesiastical hierarchy, and required a significant economic outlay consisting of paintings and sculptures, painted mandalas, ornate boxes containing the Lotus Sutra, seats and side tables, lamp stands, music instruments, cloth and drapes, oils, honey, various types of rare incense, precious stones of five kinds, five kinds of medicinal herbs, five cereals and various food and flower offerings, and a dais decorated with twenty-­four hanging streamers and surrounded by four large banners. Participants in the ritual were required to bathe four times a day and to wear clean garments of white and yellow color. Superfluous though the details of the performance of this ritual may seem, some are listed below for it will become clear, in the course of the discussion, that the encoded space/time of the performance of this ritual was central to the definition of a spatially encoded (and space-­encoding) social and cultic experience on Mount Hiko. The first step to be taken in the preparations of the Lotus Blossom ritual involved setting up and decorating the all-­important “site of practice” (dōjō), which was a square platform facing east (that is, opening to the west—like Mount Hiko), surrounded by four banners and lamp stands, surmounted by an emerald-­ colored dais decorated with nine eight-­leafed lotus blossoms and flanked by twenty-­four streamers, six hanging from each side (red for east, yellow for south, green for west, and black for north). A number of offerings placed in gold and silver containers were rigorously arranged on the platform, the center of which was occupied by a white lotus ornament on which the scripture was placed in an intricately decorated container. The term “site of practice” should be underscored, for it refers not only to the organized space within which the platform was built, but also to the mental/physical space achieved by the ritualists through means of mystic hand gestures, chants, meditations, and visions. This mental/physical space is said to be the recovery of the subjective “pace” of the Buddha at the time of his awakening as well as at the time of his exposition of the Lotus Sutra, and it was symbolized by the real, objective space of the Bo-­tree under which the historical Buddha is said to have had his ultimate experience.76

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It was further symbolized by the Peak of the Numinous Eagle on which the Buddha would have expounded the Lotus Sutra, and by the “open space” in which the Buddhas Prabhūtaratna and Śākyamuni are levitating. Is it no wonder, then, that the preparation of the dōjō was considered central to the ritual. It may even be advanced with confidence that dōjō, the site of practice here defined as the meeting point of subjective and objective spaces, of the Buddha and his disciples, and of past and present time categories, is all the Lotus Blossom Ritual was about. Indeed, the paragraphs of the Gyōrinshō detailing the meanings of the term and the contemplative exercises needed for its envisioning are unequivocal in that respect: Meditation: [Rising] above the ritually defined space [of performance of the ritual] and within its diamond enclosure, [envision] a jewel mountain, the Peak of the Numinous Eagle. It is the place where the Buddha Śākyamuni preaches the Wonderful Scripture of the Blossom of the Law [the Lotus Sutra]. [Envision] on top of that mountain a stūpa adorned with seven kinds of jewels; within the highest tower is a room decorated in all corners with a large number of streamers, banners, and pendants, and in its midst is the lion’s throne of the Awakened One. Everywhere in profusion are divine colors, divine incense fragrances, divine garments, and divine as well as delicate foods and beverages. The floor is made of “shiny shale” [hari] and covered with all kinds of wonderful flowers. Bejeweled trees stand in rows; on their branches exquisite jewel flowers are open, while wonderful divine garments hang from their branches. Delicate and soft breezes [passing through the branches] produce naturally wonderful harmonies. Envision the bejeweled and richly adorned reliquary stūpa of the WorldHonored Prabhūtaratna Buddha. [Then envision] the Tathāgata Śākyamuni and the Buddha Prabhūtaratna seated side by side and sharing the same seat within that stūpa. [Then envision] an innumerable assembly of śrāvaka- and pratyeka Buddhas, devas and nāgas, and various sage and wise men, all listening to the teachings. In the eight directions all around [envision] the various Buddhas manifested by the Tathāgata Śākyamuni, each seated under the bejeweled trees and thus adorning the lion’s throne. [Further envision] various Buddhas, in number incalculable as specks of dust, each bringing forward to the front of the bejeweled stūpa vases filled with consecrated water endowed with the eight qualities. Exquisitely decorated incense burners let delicate and priceless fragrances waft around. Wish-­granting gems serve as lamp stands. Lotus petals float down over and onto the various Buddhas and the assembled gods and deities. [. . .] The assembled Bodhisattvas chant the true merits of the Tathāgata. Envision yourself in your own body participating in this devotional activity. Then envision yourself making offerings to each and everyone of the assembled

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Buddhas in the eight directions. [Finally] envision yourself standing in front of the Tathāgata Śākyamuni, listening to Him as He preaches the superior meanings of the Lotus Sūtra of the Greater vehicle. [. . .] Next envision the mandala. Form the rindan mystic hand seal. You now must envision a three-­tiered platform within the jewel stūpa; on that platform [envision] an eight-­leafed lotus blossom on which is located a bejeweled stūpa whose gate opens to the west. Inside that stūpa is a golden couch on which the siddham. graphs [ ] (bhah.) and [ ] (ah.) stand. A variegated radiance emanating from the contours of these graphs illuminates the three-­tiered platform from all directions and further emit “seed syllables” (shuji) in all directions. The graph [ ] then transforms itself into the cranial protuberance of the Buddha. The graph [ ] becomes the begging bowl of the Buddha. The various seed syllables produced by the radiance issuing from the two graphs then assume their convention forms. The cranial protuberance then evolves to become the World-Honored Prabhūtaratna, while the begging bowl becomes the Buddha Śākyamuni. Then intone the following verses: Empty [space] is the site of cultic practice [dōjō], [because] Awakening is marked by emptiness. Furthermore, the unequalled awakened One [Is called] Thus Come [tathāgata] because of suchness [tathatā].77

Jichin, the author of the Hokke becchō-­shi, was of course aware of the Gyōrinshō manual presented above, but he had problems with its lack of detailed interpretive framework in relation to the work believed to have been translated by Amoghavajra, particularly concerning the term dōjō and the enigmatic four verses just quoted; Jichin chose to expand their meaning in light of Chih-I’s interpretations of the Vimalakīrti-­nirdeśa Sūtra. Jichin’s somewhat unusual understanding and management of the meditations and visions that are at the core of the ritual were set in the context of his life-­long devotion to the Sannō Avatars of Mount Hiei (Jichin wondered whether his views concerning the ritual may please the kami), and it involved the production of two main visions. First, that of the bejeweled Peak of the Numinous Eagle (also known as Vulture’s Peak) on which the Buddha was said to have preached the Lotus Sutra. And second, that of the two Buddhas seated side by side in the hovering stūpa. Both visions have been the object of painted representations, although representations of the first far outnumber those of the second, and much more esoteric vision, of which the best surviving example is the Hokke mandala kept in the Daisanji Temple in Hyōgo Prefecture.78 Although these visions were the object of a good number of interpretations based on a variety of scriptural sources, and of private understandings transmitted

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between masters and disciples, Jichin wrote that detailed prescriptions for the concrete procedures of performance of the Lotus Blossom Ritual were to be found nowhere; that he could find no master to answer his queries concerning passages about which he harbored doubts, and that it was only after much painstaking work that he succeeded in reconstructing the “proper ritual process” (shūshō sahō) that would empower one to realize the visionary experience. This attainment, he avowed, caused him to feel much elation. Various mystic hand gestures, chants of spells, and recitations of relevant segments of scripture were performed as preliminary steps leading to the core of the ritual, which entailed a “visualization of the site of practice/space of awakening” (dōjō-­kan), followed by a “visualization of the three types of mandalas” (kan sanshu-­mandara) leading to mystic attainment. Jichin treats the two types of vision as something to be practiced at times separately and at other times concomitantly. The key term in his discussion, however, and for our purpose, is dōjō, Japanese for the Sanskrit bodhi-­man.d․a and rendered here as “site of cultic practice” and, alternatively, as “space of awakening,” for reasons explained below. The term dōjō originally designated the tree under which the Buddha achieved awakening, but came to indicate any natural or constructed area set aside for cultic practice. It then came to indicate, in esoteric practice circles and in the context of doctrinal formulations relating to the mystery of the mind (and not to those of the body and speech), the mental space wherein that practice took place (or which the practice induced), and it was interpreted along the lines of the concept of “suchness” (J. shinnyo; Skt. tathatā), a technical term Buddhist philosophers used to suggest the ultimately unqualified character of the Buddha’s awakening. In other words, a fundamental adequation was established between the actual enclosure within which the rite took place, and the mental state of mind to be achieved within that context. Jichin’s document was produced over a period of twenty years between 1186 and 1205, at the end of which he engaged in a grand performance of the ritual in the newly built Daisenpō-­in Temple on the eighth day of the twelfth month, supposedly in order to defeat the newly established military government.79 The document, which has been recently studied by Misaki Ryōshū upon discovery of several of its sections not included in the version contained in the Taishō Buddhist Canon, bears the title Hokke becchō-­shi (Private Notes on the Lotus Blossom (Ritual)) and consists of several parts, the first of which presents a discussion of the proper order of procedures to be followed to achieve the mystical and highly prescribed visions related to the physical setting in which the Lotus Sutra was thought to have been preached. Jichin begins his discussion of the “site of practice/space of awakening” with the following stipulation:

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Next, the practitioner produces a visualization [kan] of the bodhi-­man.d․a [dōjō] in terms of the essentiality of suchness. . . . Should [the practitioner] recite the following verses and meditate on their unsurpassed meaning, he will be able to identify his mind with the essence of truth: Empty [space] is the site of cultic practice [dōjō]. Awakening is marked by emptiness. Furthermore, the unequalled awakened One [Is called] Thus Come [Tathāgata] because of suchness [tathatā].

As we saw earlier, these four verses are offered in Amoghavajra’s manual, and are also found in Gyōrinshō, but without a single comment. Jichin, however, interprets these four verses, one by one, on the basis of the “Four Lands” doctrine said to have been expounded by Chih-I, the Chinese founder of Tiantai Buddhism, in his Commentary on the Vimalakīrti-­nirdeśa Sūtra.80 The reasons why he did this are unclear, but it was probably to buttress his argument (which a reference to the text by Amoghavajra alone would not have permitted) and thereby establish the orthodoxy of his position, which was that the ecstatic trance (samādhi) that is the mark of completion of the ritual is induced in four steps by contemplation of the “site of cultic practice/ space of awakening” and of the three types of mandala within the heart-­mind of the practitioner. Jichin’s interpretation of the stanza quoted above is a set of four paragraphs, each beginning with one of its four verses, and each associated with one of the Four Lands proposed by Chih-I; this interpretation is translated below even though the text is obscure and may be corrupt in places.81 [The verse] “Empty [space] is the site of cultic practice [dōjō]” refers to the “Land of Co-­habitation.” Conceive of the [Lotus Sutra’s] open space assembly as the Land of Expedient Means [Skt.: upāya; J.: hōben]. When outside of the Land of Co-­habitation, provisional distinctions arise. [That is,] while the practitioner may be absorbed within emptiness, he is still residing [at the present stage] in the site of cultic practice. The “divided bodies” [namely, the bodies emanated from the Buddha] under the tree may also be visualized. Although the term “empty space” is used, the ritual of visualization of the site of cultic practice is performed completely, and that space is therefore considered as “Co-­ habitation.” And although the site of cultic practice is identified with the Land of Co-­habitation, the practitioner nonetheless proceeds toward the realm of awareness. [The verse] “Awakening is marked by emptiness” refers to the Land of Expedient Means. [We conceive] of emptiness as the aspect of true reality. It is the true

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Land of Expedient Means. On the basis of that awareness the five disciples cut off their illusions and the Buddha enabled them to be reborn in that land. These [disciples] were the self-­enlightened Buddhas of the four fruits. [The verse] “Furthermore, the unequalled awakened One” refers to the Land of True Retribution. With respect to the awakening of practitioners, the negative term [un-] must be used. Mahāvairocana, the awakened One from whom the thirty-­ seven deities of the Adamantine Realm emanate, enjoys the self-­directed bliss of the dharma without interruption. According to this interpretation, a negative term is used. Although the term is negative, it still refers to a modality of being that is the basis of the Land of True Retribution. For further details see below. [The verse] “[The Buddha is called] Thus Come because of suchness” refers to the Land of Quiescent Radiance. “Thus Come because of suchness” means that because he has realized emptiness, he is [entitled to be] called Buddha. [The term] Buddha [refers to] the Lord of the Teachings, the Great Master Śākyamuni Tathāgata. Consider the Buddha in his three bodies (which are actually one) as the main object of worship [in this ritual]. Visualize those four lands as constituting the site of cultic practice [dōjō] and consider the secret mudrā [“seal,” i.e. mystic hand formations] and vīdya [spells] of the three bodies, and the threefold siddhi [perfection], as one fundamental mudrā. Recite the verses of scripture indicated in this ritual, practice the attainment of Mahāvairocana’s body in the Adamantine Realm by means of the five-­fold meditation, and engage in the visualization of the internal fire ritual (homa) of the five rings. This is indeed the attainment of Buddhahood in this very body. It is the supreme awakening gained in this very existence. How excellent! How auspicious! Trust these words! Engage in devotion! Do not doubt this!

Jichin’s prescription for the performance of the Lotus Blossom Ritual thus entailed a complex meditation on the term dōjō and consisted in visualizing it (and the meditational process) as consisting of “Four Lands”, each representing a different modality of space/being, the experience of which would gradually lead not only to the mystic attainment achieved when envisioning the two seated Buddhas in the stūpa, but to awakening itself. According to Chih-I the first two of the four lands (Land of Co-­habitation and Pure Land of Expedient Means) belonged to “this world,” while the next two (Pure Land of True Retribution and Land of Quiescent Radiance) were “other-­worldly.” Of the first land he wrote that it is characterized by the fact that common people are unable to cut false views and personal attachments, while anchorites have cut false views but have not yet been able to attain true liberation; these two groups of people, therefore, live together. Furthermore, inhabitants of that land do believe that there is a fundamental opposition between the lower world and the transcendental world

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of the Pure Land, and believe that the Pure Land is free of the four negative destinations (shi-­akushu). Of the second land he said that it was a residence common to arhats (J.: rakan) and pratyekabuddhas (J.: engaku), and he characterized it with a number of qualities that are discussed in doctrinal specificity but need not be outlined here. Of the third land Chih-I wrote that although ignorance is not obvious in it, it is not yet fully annihilated. Of the fourth land Chih-I said that it is the space of the marvelous awakening as defined in Tendai doctrine, and that ignorance is thoroughly cut off and has no possibility of ever recurring.82 Furthermore, Jichin indicates that the first two “lands” are this-­worldly in the sense that they are characterized by space and by an activity of converting others (ta), while the last two lands are other-­worldly in the sense that they are characterized by freedom from what might be termed here, for the sake of expediency, the force of gravity, and are further characterized by cultic activity for one’s own sake (ji). The interpretations outlined above served as the doctrinal and ritual anchor for the particular and radical form of sacralization qua mandalization of Mount Hiko’s space known as the “Four Lands Perimeter” if only because Jichin, abbot of the Enryakuji on Mount Hiei at the time, had been promoted to a high position in the nascent Shugendō system of Kumano, which influenced the development of Hiko Shugendō at the end of the Heian period.83 Furthermore, Jichin himself transferred “entitlement” (honke-­shiki) of the estates of the Kunisaki Peninsula to Imperial Prince Asabito in 1210, a fact implying that he knew of the sites of cult in northern Kyushu, and indicating that whereas in the past the emperor had commended estates to temples and shrines in order to gain merit, ecclesiastic authorities were now returning some of these estates to the court, perhaps in order to gain (imperial) political merit immediately after the establishment of military rule in Kamakura.84 Three years later, the oldest extant etiological record of Mount Hiko, Hikosan Ruki, was compiled, and it is in that document that we hear for the first time of the four zones or “Lands,” of Mount Hiko. Thus, the estate commendation of Mount Hiko to the Shōgo-­in monzeki and the establishment of its perimeter in 1181, the transfer of the Kunisaki estates to an imperial prince in 1210, the compilation of Hikosan Ruki in 1213, and the document written between 1186 and 1205 by Jichin on the Four Lands dimension of the Lotus Blossom Ritual must be viewed as belonging to a single series of related events. The names of the Four Lands mentioned above were applied, probably by yamabushi who had consulted with Jichin or had been initiated by him in ritual practices he considered most esoteric, to four superimposed layers encompassing

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the height of the mountain as it emerged from within the perimeter established in 1181. These four “lands” or zones were then subjected to separate regulations determining types of experience and modalities of social life that were expected at a given altitude in each zone. Jichin’s framework for the Lotus Blossom Ritual must thus have become a template for this new geotype of Mount Hiko, serving both as the model for a space of representation, and as a sophisticated tool for conceptualizing and giving a concrete form to Mount Hiko as an ideal space for the practice of Tendai-­based Shugendō. Mount Hiko was not merely visualized as though it were a dōjō in some kind of simplistic, abstract way, however. It was transformed into one, which means that it was lived, not just as a miniature version or “concrete metaphor” for Buddhist cosmographic and cosmological views implied in the doctrine established by Chih-I and in the rituals prescribed by Amoghavajra and commented upon by Jichin: the mountain was treated, not as the very space of awakening itself (which, when referred to in that way, might invite reification), but as a space that could be enacted (produced) only by means of ritual practices increasing in difficulty. Consequently, the earlier view of Mount Hiko as a concrete metaphor whose template had been the palatial residence of Maitreya lost some importance, though it did not vanish. The boundaries of the Four Lands of Mount Hiko were marked by some of the forty-­nine caves discussed earlier on in this chapter and by various shrines, inscribed stones and the like; these boundaries were further marked by shrine gates (torii) set at various elevations to be reached, not just through the physical effort of ascent, but through meditative exercises, the completion of specific rites of penance and their associated vision-­inducing mystic attainments, and the observance of a number of purificatory practices. Life was strictly controlled in each of the four zones until the 1850s, and was subjected to taboos and various legal restraints briefly outlined below. Each zone, naturally, bore the names of the four lands described by Chih-I and commented upon by Jichin in regard to the Lotus Blossom Ritual. In that way, natural space came to be organized in terms of a transcendent order—which ultimately formed the legitimacy of the social order Mount Hiko’s residents were expected to observe. The lowest zone was called “Land of Co-­habitation of Anchorites and Commoners” (Bonshō dōgodo) and included the hamlets of Kita-Sakamoto, Karagatani, and Minami-Sakamoto, located within the limits of the perimeter established in 1181. It was prohibited to cultivate the five grains or kill any form of life in this zone; the cultivation of tea and vegetables was allowed, however, as were several houses specialized in midwifing, since giving birth was outlawed in the upper zones. Hikosan Ruki states that this zone’s inhabitants “have no fields

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Fourth zone Wooden torii

Third zone Stone torii Yamabushi village Kita Sakamoto

Second zone

Bronze torii

Garatani

First zone

North Minami Sakamoto Fukigai Pass Bessho k chi

Map 11  The four zones of Mount Hiko

and survive on a diet of dew and herbs.” Rice cultivation in this zone was legalized for the first time in 1858. The entrance to the second zone, Pure Land of Expedient Means (Hōben Jōdo) or Land of Expedient Means Characterized by Remaining Worldly Attachments (Hōben Uyodo), is marked by a shrine gate (torii) made of bronze and situated at 500m altitude, and its upper limit is marked by a torii made of stone and located at 700m; the four yamabushi hamlets forming the cultic community of Mount Hiko were located in this zone. The bronze torii is today located lower than it used to be; it was moved down during the Edo period when the main hamlet grew in size partly as a result of the Tokugawa shogunate policies lifting travel restrictions to encourage trade, and permitted pilgrimages. The yamabushi were then allowed to transform their temple-­like residences (bō) into inns, where they lodged and educated a growing number of travelers and pilgrims on whose generosity they increasingly came to depend, since they were losing direct economic access to estates they once controlled. Grain cultivation was also forbidden in this zone; so was the delivery of children, at which time women were required to move down to one of the villages situated below the bronze torii. Furthermore, at the time of their menses women were not allowed to cross the main road along which the temple-­residences were built; they also had to separate themselves from their inhabitations and cook their own food

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separately from the main fire (a practice known as bekka); some lived then in a separate hut, or under the eaves of their homes. The third zone, Adorned Land of True Retribution (Jippō Gondo or Jippō Mushōgedo, Adorned Land of True Retribution and Devoid of Obstacles) extended from the stone torii located in front of the Main Sanctuary to the wooden torii located in front of the Gyōja Hall of the Upper Sanctuary. Since this area consists mainly of steep rocky escarpments that are not easy to reach, there are no residential halls, but it is the zone where most of the caves in which the yamabushi used to practice their austerities in total seclusion are found; it was regarded as a realm inhabited by Bodhisattvas, and therefore as an ideal place for the performance of visualizations and meditation. In the Hōben Jōdo zone there were many residential halls and paths used for the storage and transportation of foodstuff by bulls; in this zone, however, no horses or bulls were allowed. All possible precautions against pollution, particularly concerning death, were taken. Preservation efforts have continued to this day to keep the flora and fauna intact. The fourth and uppermost zone, Land of Permanent Quiescent Radiance (Jōjakkōdo), extended upwards from the wooden gate to the three summits of Mount Hiko, which were regarded by the yamabushi as the actual embodiment of combined Shinto and Buddhist deities, the “Avatars of the Three Sites.” All and any release of blood, sperm, excrements, urine, saliva, phlegm, or mucous from the nose and ears were prohibited in this zone. The area was regarded as an ideal space to be left untouched, where the pure land of the Buddhas and the world of humans were marked by the absence of difference. The term “quiescent radiance” is probably of Daoist origins, but it was used in Buddhist circles to refer to nirvān.a. The mountain thus became a three-­dimensional mandala. A chronotype was associated with the geotype just presented, suggesting that time passed at a different speed at different altitudes. This chronotype was more fundamentally related to desire than any other category evidenced so far. That is, the lowest zone entailed the smallest number of taboos and restraints on the body/mind; it was also a zone of somewhat restricted economic production and exchanges related to the seasonal cycle of production, and all forms of transportation were allowed. Time was conceived differently in the second zone, since neither birth nor death were allowed to pollute space or enter its representation in terms of human lifespan. The third zone, marked though it was by the regular sounds of drums and bells calling the yamabushi to perform all sorts of meditations and rites, was dotted with all the caves in which the conception of time was marked by the dominant expectation for ultimate

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apotheosis or for the possibility to disengage oneself from transmigration, that is, from causality and time. The uppermost zone was one in which the body’s natural functions were as though inexistent, and in which all time we must qualify as “man-­made” ceased to carry special significance. Looking at the phenomenon from another perspective, the fundamental opposition between purity and pollution transcoded an opposition between nature and culture, and was inscribed in the material used in the gates, which was graded according to the amount of human work (culture) that was necessitated to make them: melted bronze for the lowest gate, sculpted stone for the middle gate, and roughly hewn wood for the upper gate. This distinction between culture at the bottom and nature at the top in terms of the complexity of manufacture of the materials for the gates was explicitly stated, and its import resides in the quasi-­immanentist character of its purpose: on Mount Hiko, nature or wilderness was the mark of transcendence. At the same time, however, the four Buddhist lands or zones functioned to reinforce an older pre-Buddhist social prescription in the sense that they represented the embodiment of a mental map of social hierarchy, itself grounded in a long-­established opposition between purity and pollution. In this oppositional schema, pollution was at the bottom and purity at the top, and purity came to be associated with the highest domains of mystical experience accompanied by restraints on behavior, while pollution was associated with the realms conceived of as “external paths” (gedō) and “lower worlds” (gekai). This opposition indicates that Mount Hiko’s space is not to be interpreted solely along Buddhist doctrinal or ritual lines, in that it was also the site of manifestation of kami to which cults were given in various shrines; therefore, “native” views (habitus) concerning purity and pollution were also in effect, and various notions and practices related to dirt, blood, disease, and biological functions came to be combined with the Buddhist order of things. Transcendence was quiescent and radiant, and was marked by immobility and the total absence of work; the lower and further away one went from it, however, the more “busy” one became, the closer one got to the world of work and to the dark and smelly realm of gutters and of refuse flowing downstream. The yamabushi thus mapped out onto the mountain’s topography a social topography in which they established strict correlations between altitude, cleanliness, morality and desire, and salvation. It would be wrong, as a consequence, to regard them as marginal groups in the overall Japanese medieval representation of social order, for they were at the very core of that representation: while some scholars have considered them to have been marginal figures in Japanese history, the yamabushi were actually playing a crucial role in maintaining vertical

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hierarchies at opposite ends of which the emperor and the outcaste were situated. The yamabushi gained access to transcendence through the royal avenue of visions and restraints on behavior, while they gained access to what is, after all, an idealized view of nature, through demanding physical and mental austerities. Even though the following proposition may seem paradoxical, they gained access to nature through ritualization of their body-­minds. For them, ritual (culture) was the road leading back to nature. What appears to have been a restraining code inscribed on the body was regarded by the yamabushi as an emancipating lifestyle and as a set of technologies of the self yielding, ultimately, freedom from “crass” time through immersion into regulated time, and freedom from “crass” space through spatial movements considered equivalent to the appropriation of truth or metaphysical principles. This paradox will be discussed, first, in the case of the projection of mandala ritual processes over mountainous ranges, and second, in the case of the ritualization of the body.

Mandala templates: divine planning First represented on the basis of the template of Maitreya’s Pure Land, then conceived of on the basis of the template of the Tendai Four Lands system and Lotus Blossom Ritual and its associated mandalas, and further conceived of in relation to chronotypes associated with specific deities of the Buddhist pantheon and experienced in nocturnal circumambulations, Mount Hiko came to be subjected to a fourth and even more elaborate template, used to organize the ritualized peregrinations. This geotypical construction of Mount Hiko consisted in practices that also belong to the hermeneutic codes I call “mandalization,” and entailed rituals performed during ascetic peregrinations through several mountain ranges in spring, summer and fall. Esoteric doctrine stipulated that Buddhahood could be realized in this physical body and during one’s lifetime, but this stipulation entailed, among others, two specific conditions. First, that a radically new conceptualization of the body be accepted; and second, that specific practices of a ritual character be applied with a view to transmute the body-­mind of a practitioner into that of the Buddha. These conditions were met through the postulation of the Triple Mystery (of body, speech, and mind), which forms the backbone of concepts and practices concerning the body in the Shingon and Tendai branches of Esoteric Buddhism and Shugendō. The “transmutation” of the human body into that of the Buddha was deemed possible on the basis of

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three interrelated notions: first, that the physical world was the actual substance of the Buddha in its diversified body of essence; second, that this substance and the natural sounds produced by it were the actual sermon of the Buddha uttered in its body of essence; and third, that the mind of awakening of the Buddha in its body of essence pervaded the substance of the physical world, its sounds, and its consciousness. In other words, the world was regarded as being the substance, speech, and mind of the cosmic Buddha, Mahāvairocana. In this representational schema, human beings were considered to be a part of that Buddha, but to have somehow become separated from it, to have become deaf to it, and to have become unaware of it. This representation served as anchor for three types of ritual practices devised to bridge the gap between relative and absolute substance, between relative and absolute speech, and between relative and absolute consciousness. The first type entailed a regimen of physical exercises, yogic practices, dietary practices and the like. The second type entailed chanting and meditating on sounds. And the third type entailed a series of meditations, contemplations, and visions aiming at the transformation of consciousness. Graphic mandalas were devised to bolster these practices, and in Japanese Esoteric Buddhism two main mandalas were used: the matrix realm mandala, symbolically representing the world of the Buddha as an object of knowledge, and the adamantine realm mandala, symbolically representing the characteristics and attributes of the knowing agency. These mandalas were ritually prepared in either painted or written form, and were used to guide practitioners in their performance of the various practices related to the Triple Mystery, at the end of which the distinctions between the two mandalas, between the Buddha and the practitioners, and between objects of knowledge and knowing subject, imploded and vanished. The yamabushi, however, pushed this reasoning to its logical conclusion: since mandalas were representations of the underlying structure of the Buddha’s body, speech, and mind, and since the world was semiotically treated as the actual substance, speech, and mind of the Buddha, then the world itself could be viewed in mandalic terms, that is, as being based on an original mandala template that could be “recovered” through ritualized, rule-­governed practices. The reversal of the metaphorical relation between the actual world and mandala graphic symbolization was achieved, on a conceptual level, through the establishment of taxonomic tables in which systematic correlations between substances, colors, shapes, sounds, and qualities were posited. The yamabushi then devised peregrination courses through mountainous massifs they viewed as natural mandalas, and followed these courses while performing rituals related to those

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performed in front of painted mandalas in temples. They regarded various geographical accidents such as massive boulders, waterfalls, peaks and gorges as natural sites of residence of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas represented in painted mandalas and symbolizing various aspects of the Buddha in its body of essence, and they engaged in ritual practices enabling them to reach mystical identification with those deities, while they associated the natural elements forming their own body/minds with the elementary substance/quality of the Buddha. The yamabushi of Mount Hiko produced three mandalized courses they followed during the spring, summer, and fall seasons. The spring course, called “recto” (Jun), took them from Mount Hiko to Mount Hōman (next to Dazaifu), and back to Mount Hiko. This course was a projection of the ritual process associated with the Matrix realm mandala (taizōkai mandara) as well as with the Adamantine mandala (kongōkai mandara) and was characterized in two ways. First, it was stipulated that the course embodied the logical formula of understanding a potential effect through the investigation of the nature of its cause. And second, it was to be performed in terms of an emphasis on the achievement of the mind of awakening; that is, it focused on the decisions that may ultimately lead to the emancipation of a practitioner. This course was also referred to, therefore, as “self ” (Ji). The fall course, called “verso” (Gyaku), took the yamabushi from Mount Hiko to Mount Fukuchi (south of Kokura), and back to Mount Hiko. This course was a projection of the ritual processes associated with the Adamantine realm mandala (kongōkai mandara), and was characterized in the following fashion. First, it emphasized the formula of determining a cause on the basis of understanding the nature of its necessary effects. And second, it entailed turning away from one’s personal pursuit of awakening, encouraging instead the conversion of people met in the various villages situated along the course. This course was also referred to, therefore, as “others” (Ta). Both spring and fall courses passed through forty-­eight “lodges,” the first lodge location being the object of secret, oral transmission. Finally, the summer course—regarded on Mount Hiko as the most venerable—was called “neither recto nor verso” (jungyaku funi); it took the yamabushi around various peaks in the immediate vicinity of Mount Hiko before duplicating the spring course to Mount Hōman and back. This course was also called “flower offering” (hanaku) and was based on the Susiddhikara sūtra; it was characterized as being neither cause nor effect, and emphasized the achievement of a lack of distinction between oneself and others. The course was posited as a situation in which the differences between

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the adamantine and matrix mandalas were abolished, and it “peaked” at a lodge called “Profundity” (Jinzen or Shinzen), where the lack of differentiation may be experienced; as such, it symbolized the space of awakening, here qualified as the disappearance of oppositions between subject and object in the fields of knowledge and social practice. It was also known, therefore, as “self and others are not two” (Jita Funi). It would be a mistake, however, to stop with defining mandalization at the ritual level only, for that would give too neat a picture of what was, in the historical actuality of its development and consolidation processes, a historically unstable and geographically uneven process.85 Two queries may be raised at this point concerning this specific type of mandalization. First is the question of what the yamabushi thought when they devised specific courses: the reasons for their existential and geographical choices should be understood, and not only in philosophical terms. Second is the question of the actual overlay of geographical areas with mandala templates, of how this considerable visionary project was organized and carried out in concrete and practical manner, in quite a few regions of Japan. In the first case a possible explanation to the effect that the yamabushi simply pushed philosophical tenets (“awakening and transmigration are two-­but-not-­two,” “form and emptiness are two-­but-not-­two,” and “passions and awakening are two-­but-not-­ two”) to their logical conclusion is not quite satisfactory because it fails to justify what exactly made this conclusion possible or even plausible; nor does it explicate the “gap” between conceptualization and actual practice, or between conceptual models and specific instances of mandalization. In the second case, and once the first set of problems is dealt with in a more or less satisfactory manner commensurate with the availability of sources, maps of the discrete mandalized areas should be produced, and the courses—for the most part now lost—followed by the yamabushi should be proposed. This will be attempted briefly in the next chapter. To return to the first case it may be proposed as primary working hypothesis that the meditations and visionary practices of the yamabushi entailed depth-­perception and a three-­dimensional consciousness of space, and that all mandalas are, fundamentally, three-­dimensional realms. In other words, that the mandalization process was undergirded by three-­dimensional perception. It may be objected that mandalas, which are often painted, involved only two-­dimensional representations and were linked to early Indian geometry or, to the least, to an aesthetic categorization of basic geometrical forms; however, one enters the realm of three-­dimensionality the moment architecture, or any construction (such as the nest of a bird) is involved, and it is clear that most mandalas were originally three-­dimensional constructs devised to produce a

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space in which to perform rituals, and that those rituals were in India connected to mathematical computation and geometric rendering. More fascinating, perhaps, but loaded with difficult theoretical issues, is the fact that the visionary experiences outlined up to this point involve the specificity of the experience of light, and it may very well be the case that depth-­perception and the experience of visionary light are inextricably connected. This working hypothesis alone warrants the decision to produce computer-­generated, three-­ dimensional models of mandalized mountainous ranges, but it is further validated by the fact that Mount Hiko’s yamabushi themselves created in 1616 what is, despite some vertical exaggeration, an astonishingly accurate three-­ dimensional model of their mountain.86 It is obvious that the wooden model’s relief is amplified; in order to produce a more or less equal computer model I had to augment elevation by about 30 per cent, and then the views fit almost together. Thus, Mount Hiko’s yamabushi produced over time specific models of their experience of space, and encoded vast regions with complex signs—many of which yet remain to be fully deciphered; they then produced physical models of these constructs, and presented their codification of experience to themselves and to others in a direct, graphic manner.

Figure 2  Photograph of wooden model of Mount Hiko

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Figure 3  Computer image of same model

A second working hypothesis is that representational processes alone might have had actual, material causes and consequences; in this case it is necessary to analyze what enabled the yamabushi to choose specific regions and invest them with their practices and representations, and to analyse the material consequences that the setting aside of vast geographical areas had for their inhabitants. Mandalized areas were not just sacred zones in the traditionally sanctioned but uncritically accepted sense, they were also political and economic in character; Mount Hiko was like a palimpsest, overlaid with successive codifications of experience that must have been related to actual political conditions at different moments of history. A history-­based and society-­oriented analysis of the various processes and practices mentioned above, then, might provide a better understanding of how the yamabushi used mountains and mandalas to constitute their reality and thereby enhance or radically change the conditions of their existence. The fact that mandalized zones were established over much of Japan requires that Shugendō not be treated as a “folksy” or quixotic phenomenon, but as a central element in the cultural/cultic history of Japan and in the constitution of its social spaces, its epistemological orientations, and its practical choices. It is near impossible to trace with precision the paths the yamabushi created or originally followed, however, because they changed over time, depending mostly on political conditions, and because the majority of mandalized courses were abandoned after the Japanese government abolished Shugendō in 1872, as a result of which these courses disappeared under vegetation—while the

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onslaught of unplanned urban development after World War Two destroyed many possibilities of retrieval. Extant documents give little or no geographical information on the exact trails the yamabushi might have followed, because the transmission of knowledge concerning the location of lodges where the yamabushi stopped was secret and only orally transmitted. Finally, many temples and statues were destroyed in the late nineteenth century, thereby making it difficult to retrieve the original positions of deities and thus, the actual geographical location of the spatial and temporal order of mystical identification the yamabushi might have devised in relation to the position of deities within discrete mandalas. I have also dreamed of satellite infrared images and solid GPS analyses; I managed to get a heavy-­duty, bulky GPS from the Army when these machines were still barely known, but the start of the Iraq war forced me to return the apparatus just before I left for another serious trip. What will be offered in Chapter three, therefore, can only be schematic in character.

Geotyped and chronotyped, encoded, mandalized bodies As is now clear, hopefully, everything in Shugendō was a matter of experience and embodiment, and the conceptualization and treatment of the body were therefore essential issues in doctrine as well as in practice. During his fifty years of residence at Mount Hiko in the sixteenth century, Akyūbō Sokuden, the greatest architect of Shugendō doctrine, wrote a number of tracts that were then circulated among the highest ranked anchorites and were taught in ascending levels of secrecy to (male) initiates who had undergone grueling tests of endurance in Mount Hiko’s temples and in the mountainous ranges of northeastern Kyushu. One of those didactic tracts, “Secret Directives Concerning the Essentials of Practice in Shugendō” (Shugendō Shūyō Hiketsu), has much to say on the body-­mind as the very seat of all possible embodiments. The tract begins its discussion of the motif through a dissection and breakdown of the spatial components of the graphs with which the term yamabushi is written, because written Chinese graphs may be regarded as architectural constructs. The breakdown makes it clear that the yamabushi body could be as much of a curse as it might be the greatest glory of godhead, in the sense that it was a body through which the worst levels of bottomless hells could be lived—as well as a body in which the achievement of Buddhahood in this body/space-­and-time might mature and finally reach completion. Shugendō Shūyō Hiketsu consists of three parts, each subdivided into seven “directives,” and each part is organized

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along ascending levels of secrecy. The second part is entitled “seven directives in secrecy” and begins with the following directive: “About the two graphs yama and bushi [forming the term yamabushi, 山伏]:” A written transmission states: In the term yamabushi the component [read] yama (山, “mountain”) is written with three vertical strokes and one horizontal stroke; the three vertical strokes correspond to the three bodies [of the Buddha]: the body of essence, the body of retribution, and the body of metamorphosis, as well as to the Triple Truth [expounded in Tendai Buddhist doctrine]: the truth of emptiness, the truth of temporary reality, and the middle truth. The horizontal stroke signifies that the three bodies [of the Buddha] are one, and that the three truths [of Tendai doctrine] are singular and [contained within] a single [moment of] thought. The component bushi (伏)is a [single] graph [that can be thought of as being] made up of two graphs facing each other: [to the left] the graph [meaning] human being (人, simplified as:イ), and [to the right] the graph [meaning] dog (犬). [The graph meaning] “human being” refers to [humanity’s] essential [awakened] nature [while the graph meaning] “dog” refers to ignorance. Essential nature and ignorance are two-­but-not-­two, separate yet not distinct: they are of one substance even though they bear different names. The above is represented in the following schema: The Hachiyō-­kyō states, “the left stroke [of the graph 人 meaning ‘human’] symbolizes rectitude; the right stroke symbolizes faithfulness. It is because of continuously performed correct faithfulness that the term ‘human’ obtains this meaning.” A Secret Record states, “[The graph yama [山 ‘mountain’] implies that the [Buddha’s] Triple Body is One, and points to the Triple Truth in One [Moment of] Thought. [The graph bushi 伏] stands for the principle of single substance and for the non-­duality of ignorance/nature of essence. The Triple Body and the Triple Truth [together refer to] an inner realization without production of causes on the part of the fundamental essence [honji].” This trinity in turn refers to the non-­duality of form and mind. The nature of essence is like the ocean, immobile and shiftless. Ignorance is like waves, caused by discrete karmic factors on the surface of the ocean. Thus, the water of the ocean and that of the waves are not one; yet, they are not different. That is why it is stipulated that ignorance is like the nature of essence, that the nature of essence is at once ignorance, and that is why it is also said that the three bodies [of the Buddha] are one, and that the one body is triple. Such is the meaning of the term yamabushi. This original meaning encompasses ten thousand phenomena in the two single graphs [with which that term is written]. Ultimately, the ten realms are encompassed within the single body of the practitioner. Walking,

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Figure 4  Meanings of the word yamabushi Standing, Seated, and Reclining [meditative] attitudes [of the body] are the marvelous functions of the [fundamentally] inactive Triple Body. The karmic activities caused by specious words and stupid speech are in and of themselves the broad sermon of the Buddha. Letting the three activities [of body, speech, and mind] follow their natural course, the four meanings are attributed to awakening. This is why one achieves Buddhahood without even attempting to become a Buddha, and why one attests to the level of awakening without ever changing one’s natural body.87

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The texts authored by the yamabushi and speaking of the body always use spatial metaphors, for a body performing rituals had to be “oriented.” In the context of the regular peregrinations of the yamabushi, the body was primarily conceived in terms of its extension in space and needed proper positioning in order to be ritualized and thereby reach thewaist stated goals of its ordered movements through space. Furthermore, the body was encoded so that each of its parts became associated with a constitutive element, a shape, a color, a sound, a quality, and the body itself came to be treated as though it were a mandala. These characteristics are clearly stated in Akyūbō Sokuden’s definition of the ritual practice known as “solidifying the body position” (tokogatame)—a definition in which he includes vocabulary and notions encountered earlier on in the discussion of the “site of practice” and of the “four lands” doctrine or theory: Concerning tokogatame while coursing through the mountains. The term toko [literally, “seat”] refers to the mandalas associated with the adamantine and matrix courses. It is the dōjō [“site of practice”] of the Land of Co-­habitation. The term katame [literally, “solidification”] refers to the [diamond-­like] solidity of the five elements [forming] the Body of Essence [of the Buddha]. This [terminology implies that] one’s body is that of the Buddha. Our Revered Patriarch, the Tathāgata Mahāvairocana [Dainichi Nyorai], is endowed with the inner realization of the realm of essence, is permanent, and pervades the triple world. His [Its] essential corporality knows neither beginning nor end, and is perfect and endowed with a myriad qualities; it consists of the five elements of earth, water, fire, wind, and ether, each symbolically manifest in the following representations: square [cube], circle [sphere], triangle [pyramid], crescent [half-­ moon], and drop [teardrop]. These representations symbolize the following aspects: firmness, humidity, dissipation [like smoke], movement, and absence of obstacle. Furthermore, they are symbolized by five colors: yellow, white, red, black, and blue, and by the five “seed letters” [Skt.: bīja; J.: shuji] a-­bi-ra-­un-ken [a-­vi-ra-­hūm.-­kham ․ ]. The five elements pervade the ten realms of both sentient and non-­sentient beings; they are therefore called “elemental” [literally, “expansive”]. These five elements are the basis on which the bodies of Buddhas and those of common beings are constituted. [. . .] That is why Shugendō holds the view that one’s physical body is the Buddha itself. [. . .] Recite the following meditation verse: This very body is a-­bi-ra-­un-ken: Legs and waist, navel, heart, neck, and summit of the cranium: Below the waist, [a] refers to original non-­production/ Yellow color, cubic shape, ground of the Buddha’s heart-­mind. In the wheel of the navel, [bi] refers to the sermon beyond language/

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Figure 5  The male body as stūpa

White, spherical shape, water of great compassion. Set on the heart, [ra] refers to the absence of pollution. Red, pyramidal shape, the fire of great wisdom. Below the chin, [hūm ˙ ] refers to separation from cause and effect relations/ Black, crescent shape, the power of great wind. Above the forehead, [ken] refers to absolute spatial emptiness/, Blue, tear-­drop shape, the swivel [cylinder] of the great sky [ether].”

Thus aiming at visualizing the human body as though it were a stūpa conceived not only as the original site of cultic practice but also as the body of the Buddha, this ritual meditation was usually performed on the first day of coursing through mountain mandalas; the fact that some statues of famous monks represent the five-­ring pagoda placed in their hands should be emphasized: this kind of representation is known as “Waiting for Maitreya.” The visualization was then followed by the performance of the rite called “firming the body position” (tokosadame), defined in the same text as follows: • • • •

First, form the tokogatame in space (first, diamond; second, matrix). Next, form the ōkyōgo hand configuration; recite the corresponding spell. Next, form the ryūkyōgo hand configuration; recite the corresponding spell. Next, [the practitioner should] lie [on the ground] on the right side, and bend the right arm to form the crescent of wind. [He should] then extend

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Figure 6  Body positioned as seed-­letter vam ∙ the left arm, place it on the hip, and remain fixed (sadame) in this position (toko). This configuration is called “horizontal vam ․ spell”: • In the case of the tokogatame ritual, the same configuration is called “vertical vam ․ spell: .

This particular positioning of the body in the form of a siddham ․ graph was related to a symbolic death viewed as liberation from transmigration, for the author of the text goes on to explicitly associate it with the bodily position of the Buddha at the time of his entrance into mahā-­parinirvān.a, that is, lying on his side. In other words, the body was treated as being both iconic (in the semiotic sense) and iconographic, and it was increasingly marked by temporal and spatial conditionings. Much more needs to be said concerning concepts of the body in Shugendō, particularly on the topic of its relation to food, since Akyūbō Sokuden states that the relics of the Buddha have become rice grains, and that practitioners should both “abandon [attachment to] the body” (sutemi) by participating in sumō competitions, all the while gaining supranatural powers the yamabushi then transferred to the rice ears in the fields which they visited during their mandalized peregrinations.

The visionary imperative Mandalized courses were programmed, in part, by a fundamental emphasis on visionary experiences that are prescribed in a number of scriptures and

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commentaries, and served as a means to undergo intensely physical and mystical experiences. Vision, space, and ritual together produced the contents (and limits) of the yamabushi’s experience. Being, in part, a philosophical system that originally chose man as its object of knowledge (rather than deities and rituals, as had been the case in the Vedic world), Buddhism developed what might be loosely called a phenomenology of perception, for some Buddhist philosophers took the position that the world exists only as it is perceived and thought. Early discussions of perception address the five senses, but soon enough the focus of attention turned to vision and hearing as the leading and in many ways competing senses, around which an epistemology was constructed and technologies of cultic practice were constituted. There is no space to discuss the earliest ideas concerning vision now, but the major texts on the topic have been translated and analysed and are easy to find. It is of interest, however, to note that the philosophical discourse on vision and light paralleled concerns in the medical field of Buddhist knowledge.88 The point is that exercises in visualizing the Buddha (his body), Buddha-­lands, and attempts to realize in oneself the “Buddha-­eye” became a central feature of meditative practice and soteriology. In the four centuries before St Augustine’s time, Buddhist thinkers had made distinctions between, not two, but five eyes. Witness to this assertion is the authoritative “Treatise of the Great Virtue of Wisdom” attributed to Nāgārjuna, the second-­century Indian philosopher and champion of the Mahāyāna establishment. In this document’s fiftieth chapter Nāgārjuna writes of the acquisition of Five Eyes: the physical eye, the divine eye, the wisdom eye, the eye of the law, and the Buddha eye:

1. The physical eye (nām ․ acaks․us) sees what is near, but does not see what is far; it sees what is in front, but does not see what is in the back; it sees what is outside, but does not see what is inside; it sees during daylight, but does not see in the night’s darkness; it sees what is above, but does not see what is below. 2. Because of these screens, the Bodhisattva searches for the divine eye (divyacaks․us). Having gained the divine eye, he sees what is far and what is near, what is in front and what is in the back, what is inside and what is outside; he sees during day and during night; he sees what is above and what is below, for there is no more screen. This divine eye sees the designation objects issued from combined causes and conditions, but it does not see the True characteristic, namely, vacuity, the absence of characterization, the not-­considering, the not-­producing, the non-­destructing.

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3. And so it goes as above: in order to see this True characteristic, the Bodhisattva looks for the wisdom eye (prajñācaks․us). Having gained this wisdom eye, he does not see beings anymore, he suppresses entirely the aspects of identity and diversity, he rejects any adhesion and does not admit of any dharma whatsoever. The auto-­destruction of wisdom, such is the eye of wisdom. 4. Yet, the eye of wisdom cannot save beings. Why? Because it does not distinguish them anymore; that is why the Bodhisattva produces the eye of the law (dharmacaks․us). With this eye of the law he knows that so-­and-so has gained such fruit as a result of this or that practice; he knows all the means that fit each particular being in order for it to realize Bodhi. 5. But the eye of the law (dharmacaks․us) cannot know everywhere all appropriate means to save beings; that is why a Bodhisattva searches for the Buddha eye (Buddhacaks․us). There is nothing that cannot be known by this Buddha eye; there is no enigma, no matter how secret, that it cannot discover. That which is far for humans is proximate for the Buddha; that which is doubtful to humans is evident to the Buddha; that which is subtle for humans is gross for the Buddha; that which is deep for humans is shallow for the Buddha. Through this Buddha eye there is nothing that is not heard, not seen, not known, not felt. Free from reflection, the Buddha eye is always clear on all dharma.89 These five “eyes” were gained in order to realize a visualization of past, present, and future Buddhas. Visualization was termed a representation whereby an ascetic made these Buddhas visible to himself, and was therefore not relegated to the low status of apparitions connected to delusions or defective perceptions. As a matter of fact, the “Buddha-Eye” was given a deified form under the “), the feminine personification of that special faculty of the Buddha, and it became the object of complex esoteric rituals and mandalas. The cult to this deity was most actively given during the medieval period, when it was connected to Buddhist aspects of the imperial enthronement rituals as well as to personal and sometimes intense devotion.90 There were rather interesting controversies concerning the differences between vision, mental vision, and visionary experience, and their status vis-à-­vis knowledge and liberation. Étienne Lamotte states that early on in their history, Buddhist thinkers opposed rationalists to mystics: the rationalists preferred logic over mysticism, wisdom over yogic exercises and attainments, and discrimination (vipaśyanā) over appeasement of mental processes (s․amathā). The oldest position seems to have been that it was preferable to discern the

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correct doctrine over engaging in visualizing the Buddha. But this opposition was mitigated by the Buddha’s famous statement to the effect that “Whoever sees the dharma sees me.” As a result, the rationalists did not completely reject the mystic exercises leading to visionary experiences, even if they held these experiences to be mere imaginations. There is no question that the yamabushi belong to the second group, which preferred mysticism, yogic exercises, and appeasement of mental processes. These visions were sometimes related to the exhilarating but also life threatening “high” of transgression. The following is an example of vision, followed by an example of transgression, drawn from Hikosan Ruki: During his mountain austerities in Kyushu, the anchorite [Gaken] scaled Mount Aso in Higo Province. The mountain forms a body in which the seven treasures have produced high-­rising peaks from whose summits the view is unimpeded in all directions. At its center, water blessed with the eight qualities of excellence has formed a lake that produces folding waves of five hues. The crashing sound of those waves reveals the doctrine of the four perfections and three emancipations. The shades of the southern slopes and the western sun’s radiance all display outstanding colors. Silver sands cover the golden island’s beaches, while bejeweled trees display flowers of all hues and colors to the extent that they rival the splendor of the Pure Land, a scene common mortals cannot hope to behold. The anchorite produced a wish to behold the lord of the jewel lake and, with great firmness of confidence in his heart-­mind, offered a recitation of [the scripture of] wisdom; as he had barely dedicated three volumes of the scripture, a goshawk appeared to him. The anchorite stated, “Goshawk, you may be the king of birds, but you are not the lord of the jewel lake.” As he repeatedly recited esoteric formulas, a layman appeared. The ascetic then said, “A layman’s body may be such as is seen in the world, but is definitely not that of the lord of the jewel lake.” As he then recited the Lotus Sutra, a monk appeared. [Gaken] then said, “Though this may be the Lord of Buddhism, this cannot be the lord of the jewel lake. These are all delusions.” Then appeared a small dragon, but the anchorite still would not acknowledge it as the lord of the jewel lake. Then Ekadasa-­mukha [the eleven-­headed Bodhisattva of compassion] appeared in resplendent radiance, but he still would not acknowledge it and said, “I will not leave so long as I do not visualize the true body of the lord of the jewel lake.” He then exhorted his heart-­mind, recited noble sentences from both esoteric and exoteric scriptures, and thus renewed his efforts to chant the dharma. For half a month he did not dare look at any object. At that point a voice emanated from within the lake and said, “You are unable to visualize the true body of the lord of the jewel lake because your sins are too heavy.” [. . .] He then engaged in reciting

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the central passages of sutras and commentaries, chanted secret mantras and sacred formulas, and settled in the meditation on suchness and the rectification of heretical thoughts. As he was practicing rituals related to the double truth, the mountains moved and the earth shook, and darkness spread in all directions as though it were night. A great dragon with nine heads and eight faces surged forth, its height larger than mountain peaks, its length longer than mountain ranges, one face dotted with three eyes brilliant as the sun in spring, nine heads endowed with three eyes resplendent as the morning star. Its mouth was spitting fire just as the flames produced by [the mythic bird] Garuda, and its body filled space. Its breath was like a typhoon. The anchorite opened his eyes but did not dare look twice, for he felt lame and confused. Afraid he might soon be swallowed he produced a powerful concentration, took his [ritual implement called] vajra, and plunged it into the eye of the dragon’s frontal face. Instantly, and as though in a dream, the firmament became bright, and the anchorite finally beheld the lord of the jewel lake.

Mount Aso is famed today for being one of the world’s largest active volcanic calderas; it is located south of Mount Hiko (from which it can be seen) and was another important Shugendō center. Its eruptions must have caused awe in the minds of the anchorites who lived on its slopes, and served as a model for the powerful experiences of place and time that mark Shugendō’s vision of its sacred sites. However, and not unexpectedly, space is further defined in Hikosan Ruki in terms of the basic opposition between purity and pollution, an opposition it expressed along the social lines of gender distinction. The anchorites regarded themselves as “leaving the world” (shukke) (and their concubines) when engaging in their austerities and entering the mountains. This implied that they regarded themselves as inhabiting both the grades of purity on the purity/pollution scale, and “nature,” itself connected to a verticality scale along which it was sometimes set at the summit, and sometimes at the bottom. As suggested earlier, when “naturalness” was set at the top of the scale, the immersion in the natural world was conducive to the realization of an immanentist program. However, when “naturalness” was codified along the constraints of social hierarchies, it was set at the bottom of the scale, and we are then dealing with a patriarchal system, in the sense that it was meant to exclude women by defining them as full participants in the realm of physical, “natural” pollution and, therefore, as unable to reach the realm of purity. In this regard, the following excerpt—which immediately follows the translation presented above—is significant: Having realized his wish [Gaken] was quickly descending from the mountain when a flashflood [caused by the volcanic eruption] broke out, causing rivers to

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swell and become impassable. Near the path on the mountain was a small hut. As the anchorite approached to look at it, a young woman of delicate beauty gently invited him in and prepared a banquet for him; since nobody else was around, the anchorite removed his clothes to dry them, and as he was seated naked by the fire, the young woman looked at him, removed her own clothes and handed them over, saying, “Since my body is pure my clothes cannot be unclean.” However, seeing the expression on the face of the anchorite, she continued, “I have heard that because His compassion is equal the Buddha does not make distinctions between purity and pollution. Since your clothes are wet, please put mine on. I have no wish but to form a karmic bond with you, therefore please do so.” The anchorite, nonetheless, refused. At that point, however, he conceived the following thought and said, “I have never known sexual relations; I desire that experience now.” The woman firmly refused, replying, “Should you reject my clothes, then sexual relations do not appeal to me.” The anchorite became violent and pushed her, thinking of violating her, but the woman still refused. The ascetic became vociferous. As though relenting, the woman said, “You must first suck my breath, then.” The anchorite said, “Though my body be that of a sinner and is impure, my mouth chants secret formulas day and night; but you are a woman: your mouth is most impure, and I do not dare kiss it.” At that point the woman started speaking, but before finishing she sucked the anchorite’s mouth and, without applying any strength, bit his tongue off, which fell to the ground. She then manifested herself in the form of a great dragon and surged up to the sky while emitting claps of thunder. The anchorite fainted. When he came back to, he sighed and looked about, but the woman, the hut, and his tongue were nowhere to be seen. He then remained alone on the mountain, meditating and repenting to Fudō Myōō [. . .] He immersed himself in meditating on the doctrine according to which “passions are the true nature of awakening”, and chanted more esoteric formulas. As he was settling in the main elements of practice, a male youth of fourteen or fifteen years of age appeared and stroked his head, at which point his tongue returned to its original state and his body found peace. Shortly thereafter a voice was heard resounding in the air and said, “Due to the marvelous power of your recitations I have manifested myself to you in different forms. My true perfect body is called, in the Pure Land, Amida; it is called, in the universe of people subject to transmigration, Jūichimen Kannon. Those who scale this mountain worship my true body.”

This document suggests that visionary experience was linked to exercises of penitence, the goal of which was to purify the sense organs and thus open the possibility to see the world “as it truly is.” This explains the insistence on transgression, defilement of the sense organs, and penitence.

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The Chinzei Hikosan Engi etiological record is dated 1572 also offers a wealth of material concerning the constitution of spatial experience by means of representations linked to visionary experience: [En no Ozunu] followed the bank of the stream until he reached the foot of a cliff. Looking up at the precipitous cliff, he saw three large waterfalls. The top fall, named Male Bird Fall, was over three meters high [. . .]. The second fall is the Jade Necklace Fall. It flows and rushes down night and day, constantly streaming down like strung pearls. [. . .] The third fall is the Female Bird Fall, about fifty meters high. There, water rolls over a rounded cliff, draping it like a sheet. Above it is found a dragon cave of immeasurable depth, and one can also see another impressive fall about ten meters high. The motion of its water creates opaque clouds that rush down like a rainstorm and hit the forehead, making it difficult to climb. At that time En no Ozunu sincerely devoted himself to ascetic cultivation and made offerings every day for a month. On the seventeenth day of the fourth month of that year he had a dream connected to his desire to know the bottom of the dragon cave. In that dream, carrying a sword bound by a rope around his waist, he sank to the bottom of the pool and swam for about one league when he set eyes upon a large city from which he was separated by a stone door that was tightly shut. He heard sounds of music coming from inside the door—the pitch was very clear and high. En no Ozunu felt queasy, so he knelt down by the door and recited incantations for a while. A voice coming from within the door enquired, “Who is there, reciting incantations?” He answered, “I am En no Ozunu, from Japan. Who wants to know?” The answer was, “I am Tokuzen-ō.”91 At once, Tokuzen-ō opened the door for En no Ozunu and took his hands to lead him up to the hall. En no Ozunu could never have imagined what he was now beholding. Looking around and up and down, he saw nothing but golden mansions, silver pavilions, jade halls, precious jade stairs, treasurable ponds, as well as fine jade trees. In front of each hall there stood a three meter-­ long pilgrim staff. When the time came, these staffs would strike the hours by themselves. On both sides of the hall three meter-­high drums and bells were hanging. When the time came they rang every quarter of hour by themselves. Elegantly decorated banners were strung about, there were fragrant lamps and candles all around, and food offerings were displayed about, while offered flowers were spread in riotous profusion. On the front seat, Nāgārjuna and Sarasvatī sat next to each other in solemn fashion, guarded to their left and right by the Kami of Uga and his fifteen youthful attendants. The scene was reminiscent of the imperial palace back on earth. At this point Tokuzen-ō took fragrant water from the altar, poured it over En no Ozunu’s forehead and stretched his hands to stroke the top of his head. He then told him, “This is a Secret Unction. You shall return to your place of residence and do your best to transmit what you have

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learned.” En no Ozunu was moved with gratitude, and bowed to pay homage to the deities. Upon awaking from that dream, he felt enlightened and clear in his mind.92

It would be a mistake to think that, in the midst of this plethora of rites, Hachiman disappeared from the consciousness of the yamabushi. As the single largest landholder in Kyushu, Hachiman was everywhere, and this entity was part and parcel of the notions and practices concerning territoriality, not to mention purity concerns; Hikosan Ruki even mentions that Hachiman left the Usa Shrines every night to reach the Mount Hiko Peaks in order to pay his respects, riding his dragon-­horse. Second, the Kunisaki Peninsula cults involve Hachiman as well and will be discussed in the next chapter. Last but not least, the chronotypical and geotypical aspects of Mount Hiko allow one to envision a set of highly sophisticated constructs concerning the cosmos, mountain ranges, and the body. As a result, Shugendō rituals take a rather different appearance, as does the earth, and as does the body too. These rituals appear to be eminently personal, but one should not forget the equation established by the formulas “two/not-­two,” and “self/others.” In other words, self-­realization implies giving to others. As will be shown in the third chapter, these formulas and propositions appear with crispness as communal rituals and other mandalization processes are discussed.

3

Festivities and Processions: Spatialities of Power Mount Hiko as socio-­ritualized space A list of ritual assemblies of the Hiko shrine-­temple complex dated 1445 provides some information on the social stratification of the mountain community.1 This organization originated during the thirteenth century if not earlier, and was established with respect to three socio-­cultic groups whose members specialized in the preparation and performance of separate ritual functions. The first group was called “shitogata” and emphasized Buddhist rites: the Nirvān.a ritual assembly (Nehan-­e), the Birth of the Buddha ritual assembly (Tanjō-­e), and the Lotus Sutra Copying ritual assembly (Nefu-­e). In the Edo period (1615–1868), however, a further distinction was made between sedonagatoko individuals who had a high rank, bore rituals duties for four years, and were responsible for a number of rites— and the nefugyō individuals who were responsible for high-­level Buddhist rites, also for four years. The second group “gyōjagata” consisted of the yamabushi who organized the mandalized courses of spring, summer, and fall; this group tended to be combinatory in doctrinal orientation and paid equal attention to Buddhist and non-Buddhist parameters. The third group, “sōgata,” emphasized rites dedicated to local kami; it consisted of two sub-­groups, the iroshi (yin) and the katanashi (yang), who played a non-­negligible role in the performance of the major ritual festivities called Matsue and Ondasai and also possessed a high rank. The sōgata were also responsible for the ritual circumambulations discussed earlier, as well as for the purification of sanctuaries at the beginning of the New Year. These three socio-­cultic groups, who participated in all, but whose role was different in each, performed the three most important ritual activities on Mount Hiko. These social groups were distinct (though related) at all levels of their existence, in that the social status of the shitogata was deemed superior to that of the gyōjagata and the sōgata. This distinction was given doctrinal legitimacy

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because it was expressed in terms of the honji-­suijaku “theory” which, more than a theory based on Buddhism was actually a framework for the inscription of both doctrinal and social power. It would be better, then, to qualify honji-­suijaku as a cultic and social practice, rather than as a theory. According to this practice, which gained wide acceptance during the Heian period, the term honji (“essence”) was used to denote Buddhas and Bodhisattvas while the term suijaku (“hypostasis”) referred to the indigenous kami under whose guise various Buddhas and Bodhisattvas manifested themselves to guide local populations to their lofty teachings. In other words, Buddhism presented itself to the Japanese of the time not only as a desirable alternative to pre-­existing schemata sustaining the interpretation of reality, but as a framework of interpretation that included native kami while reducing them to the lower status of local and minor forms of transcendental Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Buddhism succeeded in positioning itself as the dominant—if not domineering—epistemological and cultic framework through the use and implementation of such interpretive schemes and rituals. Accordingly, on Mount Hiko’s social level the term honji was applied to the shitogata who associated predominantly with Buddhist temples—while the term suijaku was used to refer to the sōgata who associated predominantly with the shrines in which kami were installed. In other words, the members of the community who specialized in Buddhist doctrine and rites claimed a social status higher than that of those who predominantly worshipped the kami; their claim was legitimated by appeal to the more complex metaphysics of Buddhism, but it manifested itself on yet another social level: only members of the former group were allowed to marry into the abbot’s family, and were then known as intercessors (atsukaibō). In the Edo period, however, the abbots of Mount Hiko stipulated that the mountain community “specialized in postulating the fundamental equality of honji and suijaku,” by which we must understand that the social status of the “Shinto”-leaning members was judged to be equal to that of the Buddhist prelates, scholarly monks and their associates, by the yamabushi themselves. This shift in social valuation was the result of two factors. On the local level it was due to the systematic involvement of the sōgata in the economic and ritual lives of the communities in which they sought economic support, and for whose members they organized pilgrimages and lodging, and established specific doctrines of merit. On a trans-­local level, however, the emerging Nativist Studies movement (Kokugaku) resulted in the proliferation of a new discourse on the kami and produced anti-Buddhist representations that had actual, material and social consequences as it influenced many cultic communities, including Mount Hiko’s.

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Indeed, by the end of the nineteenth century the sōgata claimed to have a status superior to that of the Buddhist members of their community, and their rituals came to be performed first (and not last, as had been the case until then), and with greater pomp. The only ritual festivities performed today on Mount Hiko belong to this last category and only the slightest trace of Buddhist coloration can be found in them (except for a new kind of highly simplified Shugendō). There is no information on the material conditions that led the early shito to claim a social status superior to that of the other members of the community; an answer to this question might be reached by means of investigating the pre-shito status of those people, for there is reason to believe that they tended to be low- to mid-­level land managers who had put their lands under protection of Buddhist institutions recognized by the government, or that they were managerial employees who had become caretakers of estates originally controlled by Buddhist institutions. Mount Hiko’s sōgata, on the other hand, might have been related to people called in other sites of cult jinin (“kami-men”), whose social status was so low it sometimes included outcastes; but they also might have been “farmers/fishermen” (hyakushō) before becoming religious figures. Finally, it should be remembered that Mount Hiko is situated next to the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, so large that it exerted a strong “pull,” and many of Mount Hiko’s yamabushi, shito and sōgata, may have come from territories originally controlled by the Hachiman cult. It must be noted, furthermore, that while the majority of Kyushu Island’s sacred mountains were situated on estates managed by the Hachiman cult, Mounts Hiko and Aso were glaring exceptions. A need to consolidate the political and social organization of the community living on the mountain emerged during the Edo period for at least two reasons. First, a growing number of lay patrons came to visit the mountain at the time of ritual performances connected to the development of wetland rice agriculture, which implied a sudden population impact on the mountain and, therefore, a need to protect the area. Second, and partly as a consequence of the first reason, the organization of the mountain community came to face the socio-­economic realities of the new political order of the times. This consolidation was achieved along two lines: a re-­organization of the mountain community proper, and the promulgation of regulations to be observed by all visitors and residents alike. Although there was some relaxation of these regulations by the very end of the Edo period, the demarcation between the two types of population and activities remained strong enough to be observed at the turn of the twentieth century. The organization of the mountain community during the Edo period was as follows.

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The zasu (an abbot of imperial blood) supervised two administrative directors (shittō) and four directors of kami-related ritual duties (shin-­eki bugyō). Of these, one received the title nenban (“yearly duty”) and specialized in the formulation and control of ritual performances while taking notes on all aspects of Mount Hiko’s social life.2 Immediately below these seven cadres were two “mountain overseers” (yama bugyō), one specializing in the protection of the flora, the other in its management, and two maintenance officers (saji bugyō) who specialized in the upkeep of shrines and temples. Finally, there was a “town director” whose duty was to oversee both the town of the yamabushi and the visitors, and inns as well. These administrative officers received a four-­year-long duty and were chosen among the mountain ascetics. The yama bugyō and saji bugyō, four in all, represented what we might call today ecologically-­minded folk, for their responsibility was to maintain the mountainous area in as much a pristine state as possible. Furthermore, they acted as environmental designers whose goal it was to ensure harmonization between nature and architecture in accordance with the Edo shogunate’s policies of reforestation and river-­ management. The community of Mount Hiko was formed by the year-­round residents of the mountain, but it can be argued that the lay patrons who visited the mountain on a regular basis in ever-­growing numbers as the cult became popular (some 350,000 patrons were recorded in 1875) should be included in it. These lay patrons made the donations necessary for the economic welfare of the mountain community and the proper handling of pilgrims who came from all parts of Japan. It is easy to imagine why certain regulations were needed, and a legal document to this effect signed by thirteen administrative monks and consisting of thirty-­six points, was issued in 1624 by the abbot and was circulated widely; its salient points are listed below: l

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Anybody caught removing wood from the designated sacred perimeter, even in as little amount as is needed to make a simple fan, will be condemned to forced labor. No dry wood or dead branches for fire shall be removed from the mountain. People who need firewood will have to go as far as Karagatani to the south and Reisui to the north. It is forbidden to cut wood within the mountain’s perimeter, even on one’s own property, to make furniture. It is prohibited to cultivate tea gardens outside of one’s residence or to till fields next to the caves where anchorites reside in permanence. Those who break this rule will be reported to the authorities.

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Whoever attaches or releases horses on the access roads to the Lecture Hall will be fined three hundred mon (300 copper coins—a consequent amount). It is prohibited to scatter horse excrements along the village roads or on any of the mountain’s paths. Responsibility for cleaning the access paths will rotate among the town’s residents and shall be performed every fourteenth day and every last day of the month.3

In other words, sacred space was a thoroughly managed social space. It became the object of all kinds of strict observances regarding pollutions caused by menses, births, and deaths, and of apparently benign but serious observation as well. The communities of Mount Hiko, Usa Hachiman, and Kunisaki developed a highly ritualized mode of life, the main feature of which was an intense emphasis on various spatial and temporal constructs here referred to as geotypes and chronotypes. The following analysis will continue a presentation of these features through a focus on ritual activities, with a view to compare Mount Hiko’s types with those of the Kunisaki Peninsula’s sites of cult during the early modern period (1600–1868). The goal is to demonstrate that the composition of all the rituals performed in these sites of cult was predominantly spatially oriented and orienting (that is, “geotypical”), and revealed socio-­political arrangements. When it comes to the temporal (‘chronotypical’) orientation of rituals, however, matters are complicated by disparate structures: a cyclical character of ritual calendars can be detected easily because it points to a regularity of repetition and to the role of extra-­ordinary rituals used in the case of perceived anomalies that need to be fixed. One can also recognize in various isolated rites an emphasis on the future as the gate to emancipation, or an emphasis on the past (which is manifest in atonement and penance rituals that serve to manipulate the law of cause and effect, and thereby “cancel” past negative deeds in order to positively affect one’s future). Finally, one can see yet another emphasis, this time on the present as the very moment of spiritual emancipation. These features alone cannot account for the purpose of these communities’ elaborate ritual lives. Indeed, just as the geotypical and chronotypical features of rituals were social constructs, these rituals also served to maintain social hierarchies, since they marked the movement of individuals through these hierarchies’ varied levels: ritual occasions were sites of choice for the display of power and its integration in the social order. The sheer number of rites performed by these communities makes an exhaustive analysis

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impossible, but an emphasis on space, time, and power will serve to elaborate a provisional theoretical proposition to the effect that the performance of rites was a form of labor whose goal was to produce new social transformations of space, time, and of social positions within communities, and such an emphasis will facilitate the comparative task as well. In all cases the analysis supports the view that space is a social product as defined by Henri Lefèbvre but further elaborated by Edward Soja in the following way: The dominance of a physicalist view of space has so permeated the analysis of human spatiality that it tends to distort our vocabulary. Thus, while such adjectives as “social,” “political,” “economic,” and even “historical” generally suggest, unless otherwise specified, a link to human action and motivation, the term “spatial” typically evokes a physical or geometrical image, something external to the social context and to social action, a part of the “environment,” a part of the setting for society—its naively given container—rather than a formative structure created by society. We really do not have a widely used and accepted expression in English to convey the inherently social quality of organized space, especially since the terms “social space” and “human geography” have become so murky with multiple and often incompatible meanings. For these and other reasons, I have chosen the term “spatiality” to specify this socially-­produced space.4

Shugendō exhibits all these features and it may be characterized as a cultic and cultural system of space and time, and as the matrix of complex spatialities in the sense offered above. The early modern period, however, saw many shifts and breaks in the understanding, management, and uses of space, to which Shugendō and other cultic systems could not but fall victims because of their political alliances and vested economic interests: their place in the overall organization of political and economic and, therefore, spiritual spheres, was radically altered in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, and went on to gradually dematerialize thereafter. In the late sixteenth century, Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi brought down the power of Buddhist temples and radically altered the nature of the relationship between Buddhisms and the “state” through their military and land policies.5 The Shinchōkō-­ki grimly describes the destruction of Mount Hiei in 1571, the many killings that took place on that occasion at the hand of Nobunaga, as well as the 1581 manslaughter of 1,383 Shingon monks and Kōya hijiri on the banks of the Kamo River in Kyoto. Nobunaga swore he would bring down Mount Kōya (the mountain center of Shingon) as well, but he was assassinated in 1582. His successor, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, pursued some of the same policies and in 1585 razed the Negoroji, a Shingon city of temples and shrines that is said to have

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raised a force of some 20,000 men. Hideyoshi’s forces set fire to 3,700 temples and residences at Negoro. The same year, Hideyoshi warned Mount Kōya authorities that he was going to do the same, but the Kōya authorities, who had direct knowledge of what happened to Negoroji, surrendered to Hideyoshi’s will and thus avoided destruction. After Tokugawa Ieyasu won the Sekigahara battle in 1600 and established himself as the head of the country (Hideyoshi died in 1598), one of his first concerns was to control and diminish the power of sites of cult, something he did by issuing a series of Regulations (hatto) aimed at temples first, and second, at shrines. These far-­reaching regulations resulted in a new “place” for cultic institutions and for all people connected to them, throughout the land. Shrines also fell under strict regulations in the late seventeenth century. According to Yamamoto Hideo, the world of shrines was controlled by the Edo government in about the same way as temples had been, starting with the promulgation of Regulations issued in 1665 for all Shrines and Sacerdotal Officiants (shosha negi kannushi hatto).6 Several complex changes were occurring in the realm of shrines, which already by the end of the Muromachi period were exhibiting quite a few transformations. Indeed, the documents (etiological records and the like) written over the course of the medieval period by monks and concerning the origins of shrines and temples in the specific context of orchestrated relationships between kami and Buddhist entities gradually led to a systematically focused interest concerning the nature of those kami, and the early modern period saw the production of many “Shintō treatises” from which Buddhist doctrine gradually disappeared, and to which Neo-Confucian elements were added. This lengthy cultural process cannot be critically assessed separately from the government policies concerning temples and shrines, from economic issues, from ritual definition issues, from the Neo-Confucian movement, or from the varied intellectual trends one finds in movements such as the Shingaku or the Nativist Studies (Kokugaku) movements. The early Edo period government’s policies concerning shrines might be sketched in the following way: they encouraged intellectual activity concerning the investigation of the history of shrines, with an emphasis on the study of classical records and documents (this led to the creation of new Shintō theories and to a highly conservative outlook the government presumed to be supportive of its rule). They also attempted to recover and systematically institutionalize classical rituals (saishi gishiki); they fostered local festivities and established ritual calendars for commoners (minkan nenjūgyōji), a phenomenon that cannot be analysed separately from the social organization of village-­based cultic associations (kō and miyaza). Furthermore,

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the regulations strictly controlled economic activities on the part of shrines and their economic guilds and provided a stable economic base in the form of duly taxed land estates. It is worth noting at this point that the government issued a large number of shogunal land grants (shuinjō), to the tune of 182 to shrines that had not yet received anything by 1648, and of 1,000 land grants to shrines that had been recipients in the past, and the government continued to do so until the system was stabilized by these late seventeenth century regulations. The Ise Shrines received at the time 6,198 koku, while the Nikkō Mausoleum, dedicated to the deified spirit of Tokugawa Ieyasu, received a whopping 10,000.7 The total granted by that time to as many as 985 shrines was 151,924 koku (in shuin estates, which exclude the kokuin estates, usually ruled by various daimyō). The implication is evident: a stable economic revenue for sacerdotal lineages meant a measure of peace (or pacification)—since before that time they used to be dependent, for the most part, on the Buddhist temples they had been associated with. This was, however, another way in which temples were hurt: many shrines that had been under their management in the past could now claim a modicum of independence from the temples. The new policies regulated the social status of sacerdotal communities, although the government, in contradistinction to its actions regarding the varied Buddhist monastic communities played no role in the appointment or promotion of sacerdotal members, or in the formulation of rituals (this would eventually be left for the Meiji government to deal with). These policies, then, attempted to separate sacerdotal from political and economic power to prevent resistance to the government—although they did not completely succeed in doing so. In any case, as a result of these policies the world of shrines and of the populace directly related to it were brought under partial authority of the government. This feature reveals that the Edo government’s benign support of shrines was an elaborate move to buttress its legitimacy, by enabling Shinto shrines to “recover” their historical roots in a way that was not directly in conflict with the government’s emerging ideology. Shugendō suffered the same fate. We can now return to Kyushu. In the late sixteenth century, the island was divided into three familial power bases: the Ryūzōji, Ōtomo, and Shimazu warlord houses. One way in which these houses hoped to legitimate their local hegemonies was to attempt to place one of their own members into Mount Hiko’s leadership by getting them to marry into the abbot’s house. The competition was so fierce that when it could not succeed in its plans, the Ryūzōji house burnt Mount Hiko’s temples in 1568, and the Ōtomo house sent a force of 4,000 soldiers to attack the mountain in 1581, for the same reason. In the course

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of these disasters that befell Mount Hiko, many valuable documents and records were lost forever, but an important etiological record dated 1572, Chinzei Hikosan Engi, survived. This document suggests that the community of the mountain was undergoing major cultic, social, economic, and political changes at the time. Apparently as a result of the fights for influence and succession that caused these changes, a woman was named abbess of the mountain, which she governed between 1587 and 1601. Shun’yū, the abbot at the time, had no son, but he had a daughter whom he had ordered to marry Akizuki Tanenaga, and this couple’s daughter, Masachiyohime, was then appointed to the abbacy. This abbess was not what some may have expected, though: she abandoned Kurokawa, the traditional residence of Mount Hiko’s monzeki abbots, which was located some distance south of Mount Hiko but had been destroyed. She instead moved the abbacy’s office and residence to Mount Hiko itself, thus bringing an end to taboos against married women and, particularly, against menstruation. A document dated 1762 (Jinkoshū, “Materials Collected in a Jar of Ashes”) says that women should feel no shame for their menses, and that they were allowed to go as far as the main Hall of Veneration at the boundary between the second and third zones.8 This abbess was eventually dislodged from her position by the warlord Mori Hisahachirō (in 1587, upon Hideyoshi’s conquest of Kyushu, the entire north-­ eastern part of Kyushu had been given over to Mori Katsunobu), who wished to appoint his own son to the abbacy. Mount Hiko’s community, however, considered the Mori house to be a complete outsider and lodged a complaint against Hisahachirō directly to Fushimi Castle, the seat of the government in Kyoto. In 1600, the case was brought to trial and there was a ruling to the effect that while retaining its right of no-­entry on the part of governmental authority, Mount Hiko was to turn all its land estates over to government control. As a result, Mount Hiko lost its traditional estate-­based economic power and had to turn to its lay followers for economic support: this was the beginning of lay patron sponsorship of Mount Hiko, a weighty sociopolitical and economic phenomenon during the Edo period. Nonetheless, strong in their certitude that Mount Hiko was a separate entity free from government control, its members created their own money to be used solely within the confines of the mountain’s sacred perimeter: visitors had to exchange their cash for this money, which they used to purchase lodging, food, medicine, amulets, and to pay fees to climb the higher reaches of the mountain. Soon thereafter Hosokawa Tadaoki (a Kumamoto warlord who had become the representative of the Tokugawa government in Kyushu) granted his support

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to Mount Hiko: Tadaoki rebuilt several of its temples, offered the massive bronze torii visible today as marker between the first and second zones, and gave the mountain the face it displayed throughout the premodern period; he then had his son (adopted, but born in the aristocratic Hino house) adopted by the abbess, and that son became the following abbot under the name Chūyū. The Great Lecture Hall of Mount Hiko was rebuilt and dedicated in 1616, and the mountain community was thoroughly reorganized, as is indicated by a legal document signed in 1624 by thirteen administrative monks and consisting of 36 regulations aimed at Mount Hiko’s yamabushi community.

Mount Hiko’s conflicts with Mount Hōman and the Shōgo-­in monzeki As a reflection of the government’s regulations the authorities of Mount Hiko began to compile lists of what they considered their sub-­temples, as ordered. The oldest such document is dated 1685. It appears to be incomplete, for its last line states that “many other sub-­temples are not mentioned herein.” In any case, this document lists temples located in the provinces of Buzen, Chikuzen, and Hizen, as well as temples located in Tsushima and Iki Islands; it also lists a number of temples affiliated with the first ones.9 Another document, Hikosan Massan Chō, probably of the eighteenth century, lists eight temples in Buzen, nine in Bungo, ten in Chikuzen, 106 in Hizen, three in the Gotō fief of Hizen, four in Tsushima, two in Iki, and one in Chikugo, for a total of 183 sub-­temples.10 It is not difficult to imagine how such lists caused problems, in that they represented claims of superiority as well as claims to some form of control over the named institutions, some of which may have been happy to be defended by Mount Hiko against various hardships (even if this required a degree of submission), while others may have objected and attempted to liberate themselves from what they perceived as a challenge to their integrity and independence. There are examples of both cases. We will examine one case in which a temple group (Mount Hōman) attempted to liberate itself from Mount Hiko’s domination, and one case in which Mount Hiko itself attempted to void a claim to control on the part of a major Kyoto temple, the Shugendō taimitsu powerhouse named Shōgo-­in. In 1657 the Fukuoka furegashira charged with supervising Shugendō in Kyushu was the abbot of the Myōgon-­in Temple, which was affiliated with the Tōzan (Shingon) branch of Shugendō. Assuming that this sectarian affiliation was an indirect challenge to their presumed independence, two of the twenty-­

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five Shugendō temples of Mount Hōman—which were originally affiliated with the Honzan (Tendai) branch of Shugendō—requested from Mount Hiko, itself supposedly a Honzan institution, that they be recognized as Hiko sub-­temples, so that they may avoid potential submission to the Tōzan branch of Shugendō. Mount Hiko agreed to this, but thenceforth treated Mount Hōman as one of its dependencies. Other Hōman temple authorities, however, did not appreciate this, for they considered it as a fait accompli without their approval. Indeed, in the hope that their relationship to the Shōgo-­in monzeki of Kyoto may bring relief to material hardships they suffered at the time, a number of Mount Hōman’s temple authorities expressed their wish to be recognized as sub-­temples of the Shōgo-­in, which in 1613 had been put by the Tokugawa government at the head of all Tendai-­affiliated Shugendō institutions in the land. In 1662, and again in 1678, the abbot of Mount Hōman visited Kyoto to discuss the matter with Shōgo-­in authorities. As a result of these discussions the Shōgo-­ in’s abbot invited sixteen Mount Hōman luminaries to participate in its own mandalized peregrination (Yoshino-Kumano) of 1685—the very same year that the first list of Mount Hiko’s sub-­temples was written. Mount Hiko’s authorities judged that this invitation masked darker intentions, and claimed that both Mount Hōman and Mount Hiko had been—from day one—independent from the Shōgo-­in, and that neither had been under the authority of that institution’s doctrinal tradition. Mount Hiko authorities argued that even though Mount Hōman’s yamabushi had been invited, they should not participate in the Shōgo-­ in’s ritual activities. Mount Hiko authorities then submitted their case to the shrine-­temple overseer (jisha bugyō) office in Fukuoka, which followed the official line and ruled that, since both mountain communities had been placed by the Tokugawa government under authority of the Shōgo-­in temple back in 1613, the 1657 request from Mount Hōman’s two temples was null and void. The same Fukuoka authorities banished the two temple heads in 1686.11 Over the course of the following twelve years, more than ten envoys journeyed from Mount Hiko to Mount Hōman and to Fukuoka to contest this ruling. The issue of the relationship between Mount Hiko’s temples and the Shōgo-­in arose, in part, because of the Mount Hōman problem outlined above. According to documents filed by Mount Hiko authorities in 1694, it was stated that the Shōgo-­in authority over Mount Hōman caused confusion regarding the mandalized peregrinations, in which Mount Hiko was viewed as the Matrix Realm mandala, and in which both Mount Hōman and Mount Fukuchi were regarded as the Adamantine Realm mandala. To use the Yoshino-Kumano model proposed by the Shōgo-­in, the argument went, would disrupt these local

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arrangements because it did not fit the geography of the region and would bring the tradition to an end. The following year, 1695, Mount Hiko’s abbot filed a complaint with the office of the shrine-­temples overseer, wherein he claimed that the mountain had always enjoyed an independent status and therefore should not have been placed under authority of the Shōgo-­in to begin with. The government in Edo agreed with this claim in 1696, and granted Mount Hiko the title of “main temple with autarchic status” (bekkaku honzan).12 With regard to Mount Hōman, an accord was reached some forty years after the onset of these difficulties. According to this accord, the documents written in 1657 were regarded as individuals’ misrepresentations and therefore lacking any validity concerning the past. This, the accord maintained, should allow Mount Hiko’s yamabushi to start anew their mandalized peregrinations to Mount Hōman—in concert with Mount Hōman’s yamabushi—as had been the case since a distant past. A truce was thus brokered, opting for historically local relations over a center/periphery model.13 After a break of more than ten years, the mandalized courses between Mount Hiko and Mount Hōman were restored in 1699, and a fragile peace that lasted for about 150 years finally settled in. It is in these conditions that Mount Hiko’s early modern ritual calendar was established.

Mount Hiko’s ritual calendar The dominant features of the yearlong ritual calendar at Mount Hiko were as social as they were spatial and temporal. They were social in two basic senses. First, in that they evidence an interplay between members of highly stratified communities of ritual specialists; that is to say, Mount Hiko’s yamabushi formed various sacerdotal communities, each having specific duties; and second, in that they show an interplay between these communities and various populations of non-­specialists, an interplay that can be located either at Mount Hiko itself, or at the sites of residence of devotees living outside the mountain. These features are clearly present in the following discussion of Mount Hiko’s elaborate New Year rites, and of its even more elaborate mandalized peregrinations in the spring and fall seasons. This ritual calendar’s features were spatial in the sense that all rites involved specific courses over fairly long distances, and that all involved a to-­ and-fro movement for both outsiders and insiders, with specific geographical as well as social sites of contact. They were temporal in the sense that they occurred at carefully specified times that marked different modes of life for all concerned, from movements through social hierarchy to movements away from, and back

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to labor. It is the combination of these features that characterizes the establishment of these sites of cult’s spatial and temporal characteristics as anchors for social order and representations, that is, their spatiality. The pre-­modern ritual calendar is clear in this respect.14 It was filled with events that fall into the following categories: e, “ritual assembly;” sai, “ritual festivity” or “celebration,” a term also pronounced matsuri; the term gyō, probably short for gyōji, “ritual observance,” included all kinds of ritual practices and training; za, literally, “seating,” is a term that referred to collective, hierarchy-­ based meetings in which decisions concerning the performance of rituals and, especially, the preparation of ritual repasts and offerings were made; the term kō, which means both “lecture” and “confraternity,” referred to varied ritual activities in which related social groups engaged; finally, a number of other events were called by specific names pointing to their social function. Coming first in the ritual calendar were the New Year celebrations, which consisted of all types of activities for which specific sacerdotal groups were responsible—sometimes exclusively, and at other times inclusively, that is, requiring or welcoming participation on the part of other groups. Such participation was generally based on whether the promotion to a certain rank was a function or result of the event, and depended on whether these groups emphasized rites dedicated to kami (the sōgata composed of the iroshi and katanashi groups also called jinjiryōrin-­gumi), or to gongen (the yamabushi, that is, gyōjagata, sometimes called sedo nagatoko-­ gumi), or to Buddhas and Bodhisattvas (the shitogata also referred to as nefugyō-­ kumi). It is obvious that the first two months of the lunar year were burdened with a plethora of rites, whose purpose it was to guarantee that the community may start a new cycle on the right foot, so to speak. It is also obvious that the last month of the year was supposed to bring closure to multiple activities and concerns. Those months that saw little ritual activity on the mountain itself were not empty or consisting of leisure time, however, since the mandalized peregrinations took place then. Furthermore, during the early modern period the yamabushi traveled intensively to neighboring province to distribute amulets and medicines, to cultivate ties with lay followers, and to encourage pilgrimage and donations. The best way to qualify these types of activities is the traditional one: some activities were geared to one’s own salvation (ji), while others were geared to other people’s emancipation from transmigration, and to their material benefit (ta). In both cases personal sacrifice and effort were equally needed, which is why the formula of non-­differentiation between oneself and others (jita funi) was as common as it was appealing, if not outright convincing. This formula was also, in part, an economic proposition: the farmers tilled the land while the

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yamabushi tilled the fields of felicity, and they traded each other’s merits; the yamabushi visited the farmers to transfer their accumulated spiritual merits onto them, and the farmers visited the mountain to transfer their surplus material goods to the yamabushi. To put in a less blunt manner, this economic proposition may be seen as having included a more sophisticated philosophical engagement on the part of all concerned, which may be expressed in the following words: symbolic goods and material goods are exchangeable, and the rate is negotiable (depending on the available surplus). In an even less blunt manner, the formula given above can be replaced with the following: it takes several communities to form a village (most villages are formed of two moieties). Bluntly or not so bluntly characterized, these relationships were based on understandings concerning who would open one’s home to whom, for what purpose and at what time, and hospitality seems to have ruled the nature of the encounters as long as everybody agreed that symbolic goods were necessary to the production of material goods, and vice-­ versa. Finally, it must be emphasized that the communities were never “completed,” since they were always in the making by way of advancement based on merit, which was something the participants believed in and hoped for.

The New Year’s shushō tsuina rite: expel and invite This rite was performed on the night of the second day of the first month. The term shushō means “engaging in rituals of the first month [of the solilunar calendar],” and the term tsuina refers to rites of expulsion of pestilence deities performed at court since 706, and at various shrines around the country on the basis of ritual steps outlined in the Engi Era Ritual Procedures, as well as at many other temples temples, such as the Kōfukuji in Nara. In Kunisaki, several famous rites, still performed today, are called shushō oni-­e (also pronounced shujō oni-­e), “New Year demon [expulsion] assembly.” In some Buddhist cases these expulsion rites are held on the first day of the second month, in which case they are called shuni-­e (ritual assembly of the second month); perhaps the most famous such rite in Japan is that held at the Nigatsudō Temple in Nara and popularly known as Omizutori.15 At Mount Hiko as in ancient times at the imperial court, peach tree or willow branches (uzue), which were held to have exorcistic value, were offered; this offering took place at the Jewel Cave Sanctuary, and classical Chinese-­style dances (bugaku) were performed; at the end of these, peach tree wooden amulets

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protecting against pestilence were distributed to pilgrims. At court, a bow made of peach tree was used to shoot arrows made of reeds in the cardinal directions to ward off pestilence, and it is obvious that the distribution of wooden amulets at Mount Hiko has its origins in this rite.16 The Jinkoshū (1762) reports that the rite’s function at Jewel Cave was to exorcise the “demons” (oni) composed of the rākśasa and yakśa cohorts that accompany Bishamonten (Vais.ravan.a), one of the four heavenly kings and widely regarded as protecting against dangers coming from the northern direction; the same document associates Mount Hiko’s rite with Mount Kurama’s famed rite in northern Kyoto known for its Bishamonten cult, and with local lore as well.

The shūshō goō rite: paper, pill, oath This rite took place on the fifth day of the first month, evidently for a purpose related to that of the tsuina rite. It involved distributing to regional residents paper prints of Mount Hiko’s all-­important goō amulet, wedged in a vertically split branch called umoku.17 Mount Hiko’s goō amulet consists of a paper print representing three goshawks perched atop stylized graphs reading goō hōin, meaning “precious charm of the bull-­king.” The term goō itself (牛王) is related to epidemic-­causing entities that have long been the object of exorcism on the part of thaumaturgists in a large number of shrine-­temple complexes, and the current sinographs used to write it may be a distortion, either of the term referring to the “bull ointment” taken from bull livers (also pronounced goō but written with different graphs, 牛黄) to fight epidemics, or of two graphs that are normally read ubusuna (生土), in which the bottom horizontal stroke of the first graph would have been shifted to become the top horizontal stroke of the second graph (生土⇒牛王). Yet another view reported in Taishanshō proposes that the term goō is an abbreviation of the name of the deity Gozu tennō, which was the object of the epidemic-­deity cult given at the Gion Shrine-­temple complex in Kyoto.18 Furthermore, this latter deity was associated with that site of cult’s goō prints, in which the term goō was written with yet a different second graph (牛玉). Whatever the obscure and varied origins of the goō cults may be, there is little doubt that they were related to the thaumaturgic prevention of epidemics, foremost among which was smallpox—itself associated in Japanese lore with the bull. Among the shrine-­temple complexes distributing this kind of amulets in the Kamakura and Muromachi periods were Mount Hiko, the Kumano Shrine-­temple

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complex of the Kii Peninsula (whose amulets were widely distributed by the female religious figures called Kumano bikuni and by the yamabushi with whom they were associated), Mount Haguro in northern Japan, the Gion complex in Kyoto, Mount Haruna in the Kantō area, Mount Daisen in western Japan, and many other Shugendō sites of cult. The goō amulets of Mount Hiko, however, seem to be the first to have been printed in history and, even though they did not reach the almost countrywide distribution of the Kumano amulets, they were distributed throughout Kyushu Island, mainly to the most dominant warlord families as well as to the leading land stewards (jitō) of Kyushu provinces. Once the medieval period ended, the amulets were distributed in other ways: to farmers linked to Mount Hiko in various provinces, by itinerant yamabushi, and to pilgrims visiting Mount Hiko at the time of ritual festivities. There was more to these amulets than the promise of protection against epidemics: indeed, during the medieval period the verso of these paper prints was used to write oaths and complaints (the oldest extant example of such an inscription is a Mount Hiko amulet dated 1336). During the early modern period some of these prints were used to write oaths certifying that one was not a Christian. Used as “pills” to cure disease, these prints were also used to prove one’s guilt or innocence, as is clearly described by Engelbert Kaempfer, who stayed in Japan between September 1690 and October 1692 : They [the yamabushi] treat a sick person as follows. The sick person tells the mountain priest the story of his illness, after which the priest notes down the details of the suffering with characters on a piece of paper. He puts the piece of paper in front of the idol and performs his ceremonies, the power of which then enters the letter. He turns the piece of paper into pills, of which the patient has to take one every morning, swallowing it with water; this has to be drawn from this or the other direction, according to the orders of the priest. These distinctive pills are called goō. But this hellish treatment is used only for the most dangerous of illnesses, when there is practically no hope. Every illness has a different kind of treatment. Guilt and innocence are determined not only by the power of certain words but also by the presence of the idol Fudō sitting in red flames. This is not done in court [. . .] but in secret among the servants, either only by way of incantation, or by trial by fire, or by drinking Kumano no goō. If the first method is unsuccessful, trial by fire is used: a fire of coals the length of a fathom is kindled, through which the suspect must walk three times without being harmed in order to be recognized as innocent. People are made to confess by being forced to drink Kumano no goō. Goō is a letter with characters written on it, and decorated with some black birds, such as ravens, which has been certified by the seal of a yamabushi. It is stuck to the pillars of the house to ward off evil spirits

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and is used for many other superstitions. It is made by yamabushi everywhere, but the strongest comes from Kumano. A piece is torn off and given to the accused to drink, which makes him so frightened that he confesses his guilt.19

In other words, the goō “charms” or “amulets” had, from the beginning of their history, legal and politico-­religious aspects. Indeed, these amulets were used to write, on the reverse, a variety of oaths taken with the understanding that breaking them would result in all kinds of divine punishments; these written oaths are known as kishōmon and survive in large quantities. During the Meiji period, the design of Mount Hiko’s goō prints was altered (the wish-­fulfilling gem part of the central graphic element was eliminated)— which goes to show that political symbolic expression was a constant feature of the phenomenon. Hartmut Rotermund identified the problem when he wrote that there may have been a direct correlation between the belief in epidemic-­ causing deities and the belief that epidemics were caused by corrupt politics on the part of the rulers.20 Similarly, Neil McMullin wrote an article detailing the connections between religious and political aspects of the Gion cult, which was related to the bull figure.21 As I have suggested elsewhere, the notion that disease and calamities were believed to originate in “cosmic” failures on the part of rulers was a notion originally held in China, but it was eventually taken to Japan, where it had a very long history,22 an issue also discussed by Kuroda Toshio.23 Rotermund notes that the deity beseeched for placating smallpox was closely related to the deity of the New Year (toshi no kami), and it is therefore understandable that the goō rite took place on the fifth day of the first month.24 Once these exorcistic procedures came to a close on Mount Hiko, bugaku dances were performed under light cast by pine torches.

The kissho shūgi rite: sanctioning power and rank Depending on whether the fifth or sixth day of the first month was deemed auspicious, a rite called kissho shūgi was organized on that day. Of Chinese origins, the term kissho (“auspicious writing”) originally referred to an imperial rite at which the year’s first document naming officials for promotions was written and proclaimed. Performed at the Japanese court either on the New Year or on the occasion of an imperial enthronement, or on that of era name changes, the kissho rite went on to be used by aristocrats and, later on, by warlord houses. One reason for such continuous use is that this rite functioned as a means of

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control by proclaiming and emphasizing the social position of those people who were recognized as being close to power.25 At Mount Hiko the term shūgi referred to a meeting of those who were promoted yearly for four years in a row to participate in ritual organization and performance. By the end of the Muromachi period this rite played a role in convening the high rungs of the sōgata double hierarchy (the iroshi and katanashi) of the mountain community, and it served to name who would become responsible for the upcoming year’s rites. After the choices were agreed upon, the names were entered in writing and the list was uttered in front of the divine entities. At Mount Hiko as well as at any other major cultic centers comprising a large social body marked by vertical hierarchy, the ritual writing and utterance of positions and roles played a steadying role. Not surprisingly, this particular meeting was held behind closed doors. Upon its completion it was customary to convene a ritual repast at which an emblem of auspiciousness and renewal was distributed to each participant: called hirome, it consisted of a bunch of konbu kelp taken from Wakasa Bay, located by the Sea of Japan in the central part of the country, and it signified the hope that the ritual calendar may be completed without mishap and in good health for all those concerned.26

Mountain sanctuaries awash in seawater: the shioitori rite Still performed today, albeit with major changes, this rite entailed walking down from Mount Hiko northwards to the Inland Sea coast, scooping seawater into bamboo poles, and taking it back up to the mountain to purify the main sanctuaries before the performance of the Onda ritual festivity.27 Before 1868 it used to be a week-­long activity ranging from the twenty-­sixth of the first month to the second day of the second month; today, it is carried out more summarily because the road is traveled by car, on February 28 (or 29) and March first.28 The iroshi (yin) and katanashi (yang) men, that is, the two groups forming the sōgata community directly connected to the shrines, were responsible for this rite. These men were dressed in white garments covered by a Buddhist robe, sported rosaries and pilgrim staffs, and wore straw sandals and headbands as well as fans and small swords (aikuchi). Leading ten horses loaded with implements, they gathered in front of the Shichidaidōji Shrine in Kita-Sakamoto, where they made an offering of a large wooden amulet-­record (fuda), and walked northward to Motomiya. They then followed the course of the Ima River down through the

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Map 12  Course during the Shiori rite

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hamlets of Tsuno, Akamura, Jizōnoki, Toyotsu, Imai, and proceeded to Kutsuno-­o and to a grove by the seaside called “Uba ga futokoro.” On the twenty-­seventh day they collected seawater there in several bamboo containers, near a stone grouping going by the name “Seven Stars,” a reference to Ursa Major. They then returned to Mount Hiko, following the Harai River (“River of Purification”) up until they reached its source, where they turned west and arrived at Mount Hiko’s main sanctuary.29 This was no ordinary rite. It was marked by a number of secrets transmitted orally (of which nothing remains), by pre-­arranged visits to houses and villages where emblems of the passage of the group were left in temples and sanctuaries after ceremonial repasts were taken, and by strict rules ranging from decorum to food. Its conduct was bipolar: first, the scooping of seawater in complete obscurity, at the distant foot of the mountain; second, the nocturnal offering of seawater at the mountaintop sanctuaries, which was followed at dawn by the purification of the sanctuaries.30 The marking of a different type of “spatiality” was enacted by visits to villages along the two rivers flowing down from Mount Hiko, and was symbolized by exchanges of amulets for food and lodging, and by rules concerning ritual purity. All in all, fifteen villages prepared food and rice-­brew offerings for the procession, the passage of which was considered an opportunity to ensure bountiful crops. A village called Kitara was the site of the most elaborate offerings on the part of its inhabitants. For the night spent at the Imai lodging houses, further down the Ima valley, the procession split into its two parts (yin and yang); the following day, three “treasures” symbolizing the union of yin and yang were exchanged between the two houses, at a spot equidistant from them: this was called irechigai, “crossing paths.” The members of the procession’s yamabushi then offered to both houses gifts consisting of dried abalone strips (noshi), congratulatory gifts (shūgi), congratulatory fans (suehiro), charcoal (mokutan, in this case called kirugi), wooden amulets, paper amulets (goō hōin), and paper sheets. At that point, all, with the exception of women, would share in a ritual repast (naorai). At the end of the day the members of the procession gathered at the Toyohime Shrine, located a short distance from the seashore, where they performed the “Mirror Stone Rite”, during which they chanted secret formulas. They then entered the frigid sea to purify themselves, and scooped seawater. On their return to the mountain, the members of the procession stopped at a village called Kaneya, where they received gifts of ricecakes (mochi), clams (hamaguri), and clams called shiofukigai but referred to as shioitama (tide-­well jewels). These shiotama clams were subsequently distributed at Mount Hiko among the

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yamabushi household members, while the hamaguri clams became part of the ritual repast that closed the Onda ritual festivity, and were also offered in various shrines on the mountain. The procession thus returned to Mount Hiko, walking uphill along the snowy banks of the Harai River and making offerings of chopped seaweed (kirikonbu) at various shrines along the way, and completed the last leg to the mountain in total darkness—an oft-­noticed feature of purification rites preceding major festivities. Once they reached Mount Hiko the sōgata poured the seawater around the lower, middle, and upper shrines, as well as by the three torii marking the entrance to the upper zones of the mountain. They then purified the tabidono Sanctuary as well as the offerings hall. Furthermore, they renewed the straw bindings of all shrines, affixing them to their gates or eaves, and set up freshly cut branches of sakaki trees by all of them. From this point on, the mountain was closed to all outsiders to maintain the purity of the site, which was guaranteed by the ritually gathered salt (shio) of the tide (also pronounced shio, but written with a different graph). On the twenty-­nineth day the sōgata went to the Upper Sanctuary, near which they put up large curtains around a temporary sacred space erected for the occasion. Entering this space, they transmitted to the new men in charge the secrets surrounding their upcoming performance activities, and completed this part of the preparations with a ritual repast. As mentioned above, this rite immediately preceded the performance of the Onda ritual festivity, when the mountain was visited by tens of thousands of pilgrims, and at the close of which the spring mandalized peregrination was engaged in. It can therefore be characterized as a hinge on which different spatial and temporal modes of social and ritual activity revolved for the specialized religious communities of Mount Hiko as well as for their lay followers. From that point on, all those who had been named to their duties posted a sign on the outside of their residences informing that ritual observances were being enacted, and initiated a period of purity and various observances, including a taboo on yearly funeral commemorations. Outside the mountain’s sacred perimeter, common folk were then let free to engage in pilgrimage to the sanctuaries. On the third day of the second month the iroshi treated the yamabushi elite to a ritual repast where they discussed ritual procedures and the transmission of Shugendō doctrine took place. The following day was marked by several meetings for further education and for the preparation of the following visits and offerings to the famed Zōkei Sanctuary.

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For the birds: the Zōkei gokū rite Located slightly above the main sanctuary, the Zōkei Sanctuary is dedicated to the abbot of the same name, who before his stay at Mount Hiko may have been an important figure of Kumano Shugendō. Gorai Shigeru quotes the Hōshōzenmeiroku written in 1746 by the monk Mitsuun, which states that Zōkei was born in 917 at Karakuni Village at the foot of Mount Hiko and that he trained under the abbot Shinkei and that after restoring Mount Hiko’s buildings he would have become the eleventh abbot. The same document states that Zōkei would have left a testament stipulating that if food were offered once a year on a certain date, sacred goshawks would appear and eat it.31 Different types of birds have been mentioned over the course of time. The last lines of Chinzei Hikosan engi, dated 1572, read: There subsequently appeared a certain Zōkei, in the eleventh generation after Ozunu and one of Hōren’s talented three thousand disciples. A shrine called Zōkei Sanctuary stands on the mountain, and from this we may infer that Zōkei was no common man. Furthermore, it is said that this mountain’s most important festivity, Matsue, originated with him. Every year in the midst of spring, from the eleventh to the fourteenth day, food is offered at this Zōkei Sanctuary. At such time, a sacred bird flies overhead. One of its wings is white like snow. If the country is at peace, it pecks the food; otherwise, it flies away at once. This omen has been proved to be true.32

The Hōshōzenmeiroku mentions a goshawk (the earliest sacred bird of Mount Hiko), and the Jinkoshū (dated 1762) mentions a crow, while Meiji ideologues mentioned the Yata crow of Nihon Shoki fame that would have led the first emperor from Kumano to Yamato and was assimilated to the three-­legged crow said in Chinese mythology to reside in the sun. Gorai Shigeru opts for a crow because of its Kumano symbolism, which he considers to be formative of Mount Hiko’s Shugendō tradition, and his reasons are as follows: at several shrines in the western part of Japan rice—either raw or cooked and fashioned into balls—is placed at a short distance from the main sanctuary, and officiants wait to see if birds, usually crows, will eat it. Should they eat it, the main ritual festivity may then proceed; should they ignore it, this is treated as an ominous sign and the ritual festivity is scratched. (This is true of the Tsushima Shrine in Aichi, of the Taga Shrine in Wakasa, of the Miyajima Shrine near Hiroshima, of Mount Hiko, and quite a few other shrines.) Still according to Gorai, the crow is usually a sacred bird that represents the spirit of departed luminaries without whose

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blessing no ritual may proceed; and since an urn holding bones was found on the occasion of an archaeological excavation under the Zōkei Sanctuary, it is possible to reason that the building was erected over Zōkei’s bones. Furthermore, the argument goes, this Zōkei may very well have been one and the same with the famous abbot of Kumano, since their dates are very close, and it is possible that after resigning his position Zōkei would have gone to Mount Hiko to “transmit Shugendō orthodoxy to outlying areas.” Gorai’s views, however, may stretch the historical record: he goes so far as writing that a number of Mount Hiko rites, such as raising a pillar at the time of the Onda ritual festivity, performing various types of dances, and offering food to birds, originated in Kumano—even though there is no evidence to this effect anywhere (that I could find), and even though none of these rites survive in Kumano but can still be seen in northeast Kyushu. Mount Hiko’s “orthodoxy,” he concludes, is no more than a sign of its Kumano origins. The lens through which Gorai looks at these and other matters betrays his Kyoto vantage point, where he had a long and distinguished career; to look at Japanese local cults from Kyoto is to unwittingly pass a judgment concerning purity, elite traditions, and to be influenced by the large and exceedingly powerful sites of cult that dot the ancient capital. Not the least of those sites of cult is, of course, the Shōgo-­in monzeki— from whose influence Mount Hiko fought to liberate itself. It is true, however, that crows were regarded as sacred birds throughout Japan, and that they were (and still are) offered a variety of foods, usually around the New Year, and usually in a divinatory context; one also recalls the description of the rite offered by Sei Shōnagon in her Makura no Sōshi.33 Whatever the adequacy of Gorai’s orthodoxy argument may be, the offering of food to birds at the Zōkei Sanctuary was a noteworthy matter at Mount Hiko, since Zōkei was regarded as the founder of the Matsue ritual festivity. Indeed, over a period of four days (from the eleventh to the fourteenth of the second month), each day and according to rank, function, and affiliation, the leading members of the various groups forming Mount Hiko’s community (those who had been named a few weeks earlier to their duties) stood vigil by the sanctuary all night long, eagerly awaiting dawn and signs of the flight of birds and their pecking at the offered food. On the first and second day, as soon as the food was nibbled on, a messenger put on his own straw sandals rather than having someone put them on for him, and was dispatched to report to the abbot. If the report was positive, the ritual festivity would take place; if it was negative, rituals of exorcism were conducted. Nothing happened on the third day, it seems. After the fourth and final day, if everything had gone according to plan, the Matsue assembly would be convened; if not, the spring mineiri

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(mandalized peregrination) was canceled. It does not seem too far-­fetched to propose that Mount Hiko’s yamabushi saw their ritual peregrinations as matters resting in the hands of powers-­that-be, symbolized here by birds as finicky as the main agents of political and military upheavals of the time. The main reason for suggesting this is that the oldest document concerning this food offering rite, the Chinzei Hikosan Engi (1572), does not say that the rite’s function was to allow the mineiri to proceed or not—only that the successful rite portended peace in the realm (a necessary condition for the performance of the mandalized peregrination). A secondary reason is that ritual peregrinations were often canceled because of political or military disruptions due to internecine conflicts or to the countrywide upheavals that marked the breaks between the medieval and early modern periods. The reliance on rituals such as that discussed here seems to say little more than uncertainty or extreme anxiety is the mother of divination—and that the conundrum faced by Mount Hiko’s community was perceived to be located in the highly arbitrary and desultory space of uncontrollable political leaders, who were derided in Kyushu songs as crows. The rites discussed above initialized the start of the year and served as a prelude to the Matsue and Onda ritual festivities, which together formed the most important ritual occasion for Mount Hiko’s community. On the fourteenth day of the second month, a “full seating” (seiza) of the Matsue ritual participants was convened. To understand what these terms meant it is best to turn our attention to highly detailed painted scrolls dating back to the early eighteenth century.

The Matsue and Ondasai ritual festivities Two versions of two painted scrolls commonly referred to as “Painted Scrolls of Mount Hiko Shugendō” have survived to this day. The version kept today at Mount Hiko consists of paintings only and, as we shall see, may have been created between 1712 and 1719. A copy of these scrolls that is kept in Hirado City’s Matsuura Museum of Historical Documents consists of paintings accompanied by brief annotations, and is dated 1792. As discussed earlier, the 1613 regulations concerning Shugendō arbitrarily placed Mount Hiko under the supervision of Kyoto’s Shōgo-­in monzeki, to which the Tokugawa government conferred authority over all Tendai-­based Shugendō institutions. Mount Hiko’s abbot at the time, Shōyū (1645–1714), went to Edo in 1694, where he successfully pleaded his case, as a result of which Mount Hiko

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was granted autarchic status in 1696. It is therefore possible that the early eighteenth-­century scrolls were made shortly thereafter to mark Mount Hiko’s renewed sense of social identity and political independence, as well as to concretize a series of achievements on Shōyū’s part. Further evidence for this dating of the Shrine’s scrolls is based on the fact that they were shown on the seventh day of the third month of 1719 to a roving inspector and, seventeen days later, to Ogasawara Tadao, head of the Kokura fief.34 Furthermore, on the twenty-­fifth day of the third month of 1728 the abbot Yūyo (1687–1756) left Mount Hiko for Kyoto where, on the occasion of his reception at the imperial palace, he showed an etiological record (probably the Hikosan Gongen Reigenki dated 1709) as well as the painted scrolls in question to Emperor Nakamikadō and Retired Emperor Reigen. Yūyo having been appointed to the abbacy in 1711, it makes sense to suggest that the scrolls were made during his tenure and prior to 1719.35 The following year (1729), Retired Emperor Reigen granted Mount Hiko a change in the writing of its name, using the two graphs 英彦 (“Valiant Hiko”), instead of the single graph 彦 that had been used before— which explains why today some people (mis)-pronounce the name of the mountain “Ehiko.” It is highly probable that these two scrolls and their 1792 copies were subsequently used to maintain the order and form of Mount Hiko’s main ritual festivity’s procedures over time. The first scroll depicts the Matsue and Ondasai ritual festivities, while the second scroll depicts the Matsue ritual procession, a common and apparently necessary feature of many ritual festivities during the Edo period. An analysis of these paintings provides detailed information on the organization of the mountain community and its main ritual processes in the early modern period. Mount Hiko’s New Year observances, as described above, served as preliminaries to this main ritual festivity of the second month, at the end of which the yamabushi left for their spring mandalized peregrination. This means that the Matsue and Ondasai ritual festivities cannot be understood outside a framework consisting of relationships between the Mount Hiko/lay followers community on the one hand, and, on the other hand, of the Mount Hiko/yamabushi professional community itself. The painted scrolls shed a sharp light on this framework. The thirteenth day of the second month marked the real beginning of the Matsue “Pine tree ritual assembly,” which began with matsu okoshi, the hoisting of a tall pine tree trunk along which thinner trunks were affixed with vines, in the middle of the main courtyard in front of the Lecture Hall. This was done early in the morning under the aegis of four supervisors of kami-oriented ritual duties called shin’eki bugyō and of four “advance yamabushi”

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(sakiyamabushi) who had participated in the seawater scooping rites and preceded the arrival of the yearly-­appointed yamabushi. The first painting of the scrolls depicts the scene, showing a pine tree trunk set at the base of a large stone against which five retaining poles and five purification wands (heisoku), have been driven into the ground—while thirty-­ four strongmen are using forked branches to hoist the trunk into its final vertical position, as they are chanting “Yōsa! Yōsa!” to synchronize their efforts. Raising tree trunks at the time of ritual festivities is a ubiquitous feature of mountain-­ related cults and is known under different names, such as taimatsu (in which case, usually, fire is eventually set at the top of the trunk), or Kami no mihashira, in which case the trunk is the embodiment of the deities. Once the trunk has been set up, it is held in place by five propped-­up forked branches; two thick ropes extend from its summit and are attached to surrounding trees; these ropes symbolize the two Great Dragon Kings that encircle Mount Sumeru in Buddhist cosmography and are responsible for rain. Indeed, these two ropes are then entreated with the chanted formula, “Grant us the rains” (uruoi wo ataetamae), which further indicates the rite’s relation to fertility. Finally, two purification wands are affixed to the top of the trunk; made of light-­green and white paper strips, they are called “spring and autumn wands” and represent offerings (nie) made in the hope of abundant crops. The Shugendō interpretation of this trunk is that it represents the “convention form” (sanmaya-­gyō) of the Buddha Mahāvairocana; the usual symbol of Mahāvairocana in the convention mandalas is the five-­pronged vajra (gokosho), which is why the pine trunk is held in place by five forked branches. This means, then, that the courtyard where the rite is taking place is meant to be the site of practice (dōjō) where the kami and the five Buddhas of Wisdom, as well as the five Kings of Sapience, will be invoked and reside. This site is then consecrated by the four “advance” yamabushi as they chant the fourteenth chapter of the Lotus Sutra, “Comfortable Conduct” (anrakugyō-­bon), widely regarded as one of the four most important chapters of the scripture. At the same time as the trunk is hoisted, other yamabushi erect a temporary meeting site near the Lower Sanctuary (Shimo no Miya, located next to the bronze torii). Called Lower Buddha Hall (Shimo Butsuden), it consists of a bamboo enclosure on which curtains decorated with the graph pronounced iro on the left side of the entrance and the graph pronounced katana on the right of the entrance have been affixed. The space within the enclosure is divided into two equal parts, one for each half of the sōgata community, by a bamboo fence against which each group’s emblems are set up near a lacquered signboard (gyōban): two axes for the katanashi,

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symbolizing yang, and two lion-­dance masks for the iroshi, symbolizing yin. It is there that those people who had been nominated three years earlier, and had performed their solemn ritual duties during the preceding year, meet. Before entering this enclosure, these men, accompanied by relatives, form a procession starting from their respective residence halls; the katanashi carry their emblems up to the Lower Shrine (Gegū, located right above and to the left of the stone torii), while the iroshi take their emblems up to Kitayama Hall, located slightly below the Lower Shrine, across the path. Before the main procession, three portable palanquins (mikoshi) are set up in the Lower Sanctuary; they are adorned with other emblems: looking at the shrine, on the right side, three ceremonial fans and two masks, set at the end of long carrying sticks, have been affixed to pillars. The red mask is called “Fire King” (hi no ō), while the blue mask is called “Water King” (mizu no ō).36 On the left side of the sanctuary, three ceremonial fans and three ceremonial umbrellas have been affixed to another pillar. On the fourteenth day, the secret emblems of Mount Hiko’s Three Peaks’ avatars, Izanami no mikoto (Senju Kannon); Ame no Oshihone no mikoto (Amida nyorai); and Izanagi no mikoto (Shaka nyorai), are transferred to the three mikoshi, and two axes are installed in their stead in front of the shrines. A female sacerdotal figure (miko) referred to as Hiko Ichi-­no-gobō then performs a dance in front of the mikoshi: dressed in red and white, she shakes her bell-­holder to the accompaniment of a drum played by a yamabushi; it is said that each of her revolutions is followed by a meditation. Meanwhile, the abbot, helped by sacerdotal officiants, completes final preparations; the abbot then engages in the procession down to the Lower Sanctuary and pays his respects to the mikoshi. This procession is the object of the second painted scroll, the Matsue Gyōretsu Emaki, which shows the entire community advancing, ritual officers of each group holding positions according to rank and duties, and preceding the three mikoshi, each carried by sixteen yamabushi. Following the mikoshi, various high-­ranked members of the Buddhist community precede the abbot, who is carried in a portable palanquin by twelve officiants (yamabushi and men dressed in white clothing). This group is itself preceding other officials and lay people, probably patrons. Pierre Bourdieu was correct when he observed that “the specific force of official representations is that they institute the principles of a practical relation to the natural and social worlds in words, objects, practices and especially in collective, public events, such as the major rituals, deputations, and solemn processions (the Greeks called them theories . . .).”37 At the Lower Sanctuary (by the bronze torii), lion dances are performed, followed by stylized bouts of halberd and ax fights. The fifteenth day consists of

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a large number of ritual activities, which start with the procession climbing the long slope that extends from the Lower Sanctuary up to the large court fronting the Lecture Hall (by the stone torii); the court is called, for the occasion, mikoshi resting place. The iroshi, katanashi, and the onda tōeki (those responsible for the performance of the Onda rites), then enter the temporary Upper Buddha Hall: in the painted scrolls, the iroshi are represented seated within the right partition of the hall, the katanashi in the center, and the onda tōeki on the left; each group’s leader is seated on a tatami mat before a folded painted screen, and is engaging in a meditation (tanza meimoku). On each side of the leader, makeshift structures house the seated group members, as well as lay patrons. Taisai Kenjō Ryakkō, a document thought to have been written between 1716 and 1736, says that the makeshift structures symbolize the Buddha’s matrix, while the gates symbolize the vulva of the Mother of Compassion; this suggests one aspect of the symbolic death/symbolic rebirth rites that will take place that day. The members of the three groups are then served a ceremonial repast contained in paulownia boxes; while they thus express their gratitude to the lay patrons who have paid for many of the expenses, they also underscore the symbolic meaning of the sharing: the three groups are said to stand for Heaven, Earth, and Humanity, and the food stands for the production of life generated by the interaction of yin and yang. At the same time, a solemn gathering of the authorities of Mount Hiko takes place within the Lecture Hall. The painted scrolls illustrate clearly the importance of this gathering, which it depicts in the following way. Like any outsiders at the time, contemporary viewers of the painting are made to face north to take in the entire outer sanctuary (gejin) of the main hall, with the inner sanctuary (naijin) partially visible. The painting is divided into three levels: the upper third level consists of a representation of the division between the inner and outer sanctuaries, divided into three vertical parts: two parts representing doors, between which is an equally wide part representing the inner sanctuary where, flanked by two youthful attendants holding a long sword, the abbot is seated on a decorated straw mat (tatami), dressed in regal attire. One can glimpse elaborately painted folding screens placed behind him. The abbot’s head is not visible, hidden by hanging screens. In front of the abbot rests a tray that contains one of several courses of a ritual repast called for the occasion ozasshō, “assorted delicacies.”38 The two sōgata in charge of the Onda ritual festivity share with the abbot some hirome kelp, miki (sake-­brew), manjū (steamed sweet buns), more miki, sweets, and one last cup of miki. They then utter words of respect and ask for the completion of the upcoming events, and each offers an elaborate landscape tray (suhamadai, also referred to as shimadai, usually representing the Island of the

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Daoist Immortals, Peng-­lai, J., Hōrai) before retiring. The meeting then continues with the elite gathered in the outer sanctuary, on each side of the abbot. On the scroll painting representing the scenes outlined above, one observes four rows of religious figures seated to the left of the abbot: to the outside, and beginning with those closest to the inner sanctuary, the first row consists of two administrators (shittō), the main scholarly yamabushi (gakutō), the main ordained monk (seisō), and four overseers of the village’s residences (gubu). The second row consists of four apprentices to the abbot, dressed in lay attire. The third row consists of five yamabushi prelates (gakudō). In front of them, closest to the abbot, two intercessors (atsukaibō) are seated. In the main space between the groups of rows are the two sōgata representatives, who are being offered a cup of miki by a servant, and the two elaborate landscape trays. To the right of the abbot, the first row (inside) consists of six yamabushi prelates (gakudō), and the second and last row (outside) consists of four general overseers (sōeki). All except the abbot wear swords and have a fan either in their hands or on the floor, in front of their knees. Thirteen participants wear Buddhist clothing, while twelve wear yamabushi garments; the remaining nine are dressed in lay attire. On that occasion the abbot calls by name all those who had been chosen at the kissho rite a few weeks earlier, and reiterates the nature of their duties. Once this is completed, all concerned share hirome kelp cut into strips, the New Year broth called ozōni, and miki as well as other delicacies. While these functions are performed within the Lecture Hall itself between nine and eleven in the morning, the Onda (“August paddyfield”) ritual festivity is about to begin. The events are opened by another kagura dance on the part of Hiko Ichi-­no-gobō, after which members of the group responsible for the Nefugyō ritual assembly initiate the rite known as yabusame: riding horses back and forth, men shoot arrows at targets propped by assistants at three “demon gates” through which noxious forces are thought to invade purified space. As its name indicates, the Onda ritual festivity is, at first glance, a fertility rite performed by the mountain community for the benefit of the farmers residing in the valleys below Mount Hiko’s summits. It is that indeed, but much more as well. On the surface, the Onda ritual festivity involves a mock ox-­drawn hoe (maguwa) to till the earth in front of the Lecture Hall, which symbolizes all fields belonging to the former and current estates of Mount Hiko. This hoe, a rake-­like implement, is said to have been granted by Ōnamuchi no mikoto, the land-­owning Kami of the Kitayama Sanctuary; it is pressed into the ground by an elder wearing a white upper dress over red pants, and attached to a rice bale covered with a black cloth symbolizing a bull, that is pulled by an assistant. Once the land has been

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tilled in such manner, the elder, assisted by seven aides, plows the ground with hand-­held mattocks under the watchful gaze of two supervisors protected by an umbrella that is held by an officiant dressed in black. The eight “farmers” work as they sing, “As the wild lands of the country are transformed into paddy fields, may the dewy tips of the mattocks cause the gem-­like rice grains to germinate.” Once this rite is completed, the elder, assisted by a number of acolytes, stands on the outer edge of the Lecture Hall and throws rice grains over a crowd of farmers who jostle to capture them in their upturned straw hats; this is regarded as the equivalent to sowing (tane maki), and representatives of farming communities from all over Kyushu Island vie with one another to catch as many grains as they can, so they can distribute them among their own communities in the belief that these seeds, inhabited by the spirit of Ame-­no-oshihomimi no mikoto, the oldest kami of Mount Hiko as well as an important rice-­fertility kami, will grant a bountiful harvest. The painted scrolls vividly represent the scene: as the elder throws the rice, farmers jostle, a child holding a red pinwheel is seated on his father’s shoulder, local folks are selling rosaries and other implements; officiants restrain the crowd, and arriving farmers are paying their respects by kneeling on the ground and bowing their heads. Thereafter, the officiants perform a symbolic rice-­transplanting rite: accompanied by songs performed on the side of the “field,” and led by the elder in their task, they mimic planting rice, holding bunches of sweet flag (an iris-­like plant). Once this is completed, the elder makes offerings: walking in front, he holds a wooden tray on which a bowl filled with cooked rice has been placed; behind him walk two assistants disguised as pregnant women. One balances a tray holding two bowls filled with rice on their head; the other balances a bucket filled with clear broth (shiru) on their head. Mimicked pregnancy at the time of food offerings is still visible at many mountain rites of fertility, from Mount Aso in Kyushu to Mount Iwaki in northern Honshu. In many other places, as in Shizuhara in the hills north of Kyoto, for example, pre-­menarche girls balance the trays laden with food on their heads. There is thus a direct correlation between food production and reproduction hopes. At 1 p.m., the three mikoshi are taken back up to the Lower Shrine (gegū). Three groups of sixteen yamabushi are represented seating in front of the palanquins, which they will hoist on their shoulders once a sign is given by a metal drum and cymbals. When this is completed, yet more rites are performed in the main court: a lion dance in which two lions, composed of two people each, dance wildly and sometimes follow the palanquins up the stairs leading to the Lower Shrine, in a mark of sorrow over the departure of the divinities; this dance is known as “heavyhearted frenzy” (nagori no kurui). After

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members of the iroshi group leave the court and descend the slope, where they welcome the arriving yamabushi who will soon leave for their mandalized peregrination, stylized martial arts performances take place. The first involves the use of long halberds (naginata) by four katanashi officiants, accompanied by music performed on flute and drum. The second involves a stylized combat between two katanashi officiants wielding long axes (masakari). The third involves both iroshi and katanashi officiants; it is a “dance” in which a strongman wields a metal lance weighing some forty-­three kilos and mimics the churning of the ocean by the demiurges Izanami and Izanagi. The lance’s handle is wrapped with five-­colored bands that hold a branch of sakaki and symbolize the five active aspects of nature engaged in the production of the universe. This is followed by dengaku performances: limited to seven iroshi musician-­dancers, this dance of medieval origins is performed while three dancers play drums and four dancers play the binzasara, a cord to which small wooden sticks have been attached at fixed intervals; the cord is held by the two hands while being moved up an down to cause the sticks to clash, producing a pleasant, castanet-­like sound. The painted scroll then provides three scenes of the performance of the ennen no mai, “longevity enhancing dance.” In the first scene, a yamabushi who had been picked from fifty iroshi and katanashi competitors in dance and song on the eighth day of the second month, and was thereby made responsible for chanting the “opening verse” (kaiku), is shown standing in front of the main hall, singing the verse in question: “The body of our mountain, three soaring peaks, sacred ground for three sanctuaries protected by fresh divine pine trees. May it grant a thousand-­year longevity, and may the good demons appear and support these yamabushi as they offer up the nectar of the Dharma.” Chanted in the manner of Nō drama, this kaiku exaltation refers to verses of blessing that were chanted only at court, at the Takigi-­nō performance at the Kōfukuji Temple in Nara, at the residence of shoguns, and at Mount Hiko. It is also sometimes referred to as kaikō (“mouth-­opening”), a term that originally referred to the chant opening the performance of the Okina play in Nō drama.39 The second of the three scenes represents jige fūryū elegant dances and songs on the part of the low-­ranked members of Mount Hiko’s community; these performers are observed and evaluated, and the best will be appointed to chant, later, the exaltation just described. Their song praises the yamabushi walking along the mountain peaks, pure water running down rock faces, the winds blowing over the expanse of space, and it finishes with an entreaty for continued activity of the kami’s fireplaces and of the peoples’ cauldrons.

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The third scene represents twelve high-­ranked iroshi and katanashi dancing in a circle around three musicians engaged in drumming, playing the flute, and singing. Once the music ceases, the twelve performers sing the Nō drama “Queen Mother of the West” (Seiōbo), a Daoist divinity of longevity. The Taisai Kenjō Ryakkō states that yin and yang, overseeing the production and destruction of the five active aspects of nature, produce the universe through sexual interaction, and that music and song are the natural activity of the universe and are offered to pacify the divinities and civilize humans. The painted scroll then depicts other martial arts competitions: the haya gusoku, in which officiants run after competing in snapping away armors from the mats on which they were placed. It seems that the ensuing scene has been partly lost; it shows two officiants facing off with swords, and it is said that there was yet another scene depicting bouts of sumō wrestling, an activity the yamabushi have long engaged in while peregrinating. In any case, these bouts are immediately followed by the gyōjagata yamabushi’s performance of their main rite of departure into the mountains, the object of the next four scenes. The first scene depicts two long-­haired, bearded yamabushi as they hoist a giant purification wand (gohei (bonten?)) next to a vertical cylinder that is being hammered into the ground, just inside of the stone torii which separates the two lower zones from the two upper zones of Mount Hiko. The cylinder is going to be used as a resting site for a highly adorned ceremonial creel (oi), and is called “creel rest” (oiyasume). The creel in question is decorated with a deerskin and contains rhododendrons, Mount Hiko’s sacred flowers. It is carried by the preceding year’s highest-­ranking yamabushi, from the Lecture Hall down to the sacred plum tree growing inside a wooden fence near the center of the main courtyard. On the northern side of this fence the yamabushi entrusted with the current year’s duties (tōeki yamabushi) are seated, while on the southern side the “intermediaries” (uketoribō) are seated. After the metal cylinder has been driven into the ground one uketoribō stands up, picks up the creel, sets it onto his back, walks up to center-­court and bows to the combined divine entities of the mountain, to the abbot, and to the daisendatsu (the high-­ranked yamabushi who have completed nine mandalized peregrinations). The second scene depicts this uketoribō as he carries the creel toward the cylinder where it will be put to rest, and bows. At Mount Hiko this creel is held to be either En no Gyōja’s own, or to symbolize En no Gyōja himself. The third scene shows the plum tree and its surrounding fence (which existed up to the 1920s but have vanished since), as well as two yamabushi seated in front of three young inductees who are going to perform their first pregrination in the hope that they too will become full-­fledged yamabushi. Behind them, two

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yamabushi are seated; they will act as assistants to the peregrinating group. One is represented putting his hand on a conch-­shell he will blow in order to transmit orders to the group. The fourth scene depicts the rite called tokin oroshi, “head cover removal.” Seated on a mat set in front of twelve yamabushi who have just undergone the rite in question, and of three others who are going to engage in it, a yamabushi holds on to his head cover while an initiated yamabushi undoes the ties that bind tassels together over the inductee’s head cover, and lets them drop on each side of the head. The initiate’s abdomen is covered with a hat-­like decorated implement called hangai (banners and canopy) and sometimes hōkan (precious crown, of the kind born by empresses at the time of major court rites). This implement symbolizes the womb and the placenta. Extending from the initiate’s waist onto the ground behind him, a long red sash represents the umbilical cord of the soon-­to-be-­born yamabushi. Represented in the last scene of the painted scroll, members of the iroshi and katanashi groups, surrounded by onlookers, get ready to take down the sacred pillar they had set up a few days earlier. Before they do so, however, a yamabushi quickly climbs up the vines wrapped around the pillar until he reaches the summit where he positions himself. While the other yamabushi chant penitence scriptures, he sets the purifying paper wands on fire and cuts their base with one swing of his sword. The wands fall down onto the ground, the yamabushi descends, and the pillar is taken down, thereby signifying that all spring rites preceding the mandalized peregrination have been completed. Once the rite of symbolic birth is completed, the yamabushi pass through the stone torii and scale Mount Hiko, whose summits they will leave a few days later so they may engage in the spring mandalized peregrination to Mount Hōman and back. For the villagers and farmers who visited Mount Hiko at the time of these rites, the Matsue and Ondasai performances were significant if not necessary aspects of their own agricultural timetable; and for the yamabushi of Mount Hiko, the same rites were absolutely necessary to establish and mark their steps through their own social order’s hierarchy. In other words, the farmers’ hopes for a good “natural” yield were thought to come true if they were matched by the yamabushi’s own “social growth” process. And this social process was understood, in yamabushi circles, to lean on nature and thus appear to be natural and, therefore, unquestionably correct. Such as it was, this equation was evident to all as long as the germination of cereal grains stood as a clear metaphor for a social progress through rites of passage, while the same progress was held to be valid in so far as it was a “copy” of the process of agricultural growth. Indeed, the main

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creel (oi) carried by the leading yamabushi originally contained relics (shari), to which were added, during the medieval period, grains of the five cereals. This makes sense if one recalls that the Buddha would have bequeathed one eighth of his physical substance as food for the world, and the relics bits (shari no tsubu) were thus equated with the cereal grains (gokoku no tsubu). The maturation of the grains during the mandalized peregrination, the throwing of grains at the peak of the ritual festivity, the offerings of rice on the part of pregnant-­looking men, the tilling of the symbolic land, and the rebirth rites of the yamabushi all stood together in a coherent world of symbols of growth and production. It must be added that, at the time of the ritual festivity, the yamabushi sold or granted clay bells painted in white, red and blue. Known as Hikogara these bells were taken by farmers back to their fields, where they placed the bells into the main irrigating ditches; as water passed through the bell, a clay ball contained within clattered against the bell’s inner walls, making the sound garagara (gurgle-­ gurgle)—an onomatopoeia farmers used to refer to “yamabushi lingo.” This system of symbols was widely shared in Shugendō circles around the country, although with some seasonal or local variants: at Mount Haguro in northern Japan, for example, rice grains were kept in a small hut-­like structure while the yamabushi performed their peregrination, and germinated as the ascetics cultivated the fields of felicity (fukuden). This hut-­like structure, covered with thatch, is known as kōya hijiri, “the ascetic promoting growth in the fields”.40 And so everybody’s labor came to fruition: the fields yielded rice as Buddha-­body relics (just as Buddha-­relics were supposed to produce food), while the ascetics transformed their bodies into that of the Buddha. Ritual practice was work, just as work in the fields was a cultic activity, and it is little surprising that, during the Edo period, many Nativists, especially those working in what has been aptly called “grassroot nativism,” called for equating work with sacred activity.41 Many parts of these ritual festivities have been abandoned at Mount Hiko since 1872, but very much the same can be seen today in various shrines of the region, which copied these elaborate rites that are still considered important in rural communities.

Mineiri: the mandalized peregrinations The oldest extant document mentioning mountain practices at Mount Hiko is the Hikosan Ruki dated 1213; dominating these practices were austerities conducted in the forty-­nine caves symbolizing the residence of the Buddha of

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the Future, Maitreya. There is no doubt that mountain ascetics at the time also went on pilgrimage to sacred mountains near and far: the text mentions a monk from Kyoto’s Mount Hiei, who traveled to Mount Hiko to acquire a piece of “stone tree” (basaltic “pillar”) representing Maitreya’s body. It also mentions the deeds of several Hiko ascetics, one of whom spent time at Mount Aso in central Kyushu; and it mentions pilgrimage from outlying areas toward Mount Hiko. Finally, Hikosan Ruki mentions the following: l

l

l

Summer Ninety-­day Constant Flower Offering (Ichige kujun fudan hanaku). Constant Flower Offering, yearlong at the Upper Shrine. Furthermore, during the summer, Flower Offerings at eight (other) sites.42

This may mean that the Hiko yamabushi were not yet performing fully matured mandalized peregrinations, and that, very much like the Kōfukuji Temple’s yamabushi of Nara, they emphasized the search for flowers to make offerings to Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and kami.43 The term mineiri refers to highly structured peregrinations through mountain ranges; it surfaces in the Hikosan Shojin’eki Shidai dated 1445—which does not mean, of course, that it was not used long before this date. The mention of mandalas serving as templates for courses through the Hiko mountain ranges appears in Akyūbō Sokuden’s Sanpō Sōshō Hōsoku Mikki, dated between the years 1521–6. Sokuden (n.d.) was a scholarly yamabushi trained in Nikkō, itself a vital center of Shugendō. He traveled to many sacred mountains and around 1505 settled in the Kezō-­in temple of Mount Hiko’s south valley, where for more than fifty years he wrote what would become the most detailed teachings and practices in the history of Shugendō, which were subsequently transmitted orally around the country. His works are contained in Shugendō Shōso, consisting of the majority of Shugendō’s doctrinal and practical teachings; a systematic presentation and explanation of these texts was made by a team directed by Miyake Hitoshi in an epochal publication, Shugendō Shōso Kaidai.44 The date of Sokuden’s document, however, does not imply that mandalization originated then: even though mandalized peregrinations appear to have been firmed during the early Muromachi period, it is difficult to imagine that mandalized courses over long distances appeared suddenly, if only because of the need to enlist either the participation or the support of long-­established religious sites such as those of Mount Hōman or Mount Fukuchi, and because this development must have taken quite some time and much organization. Tendai-­ based Kumano Shugendō had begun to make its mark in Kunisaki and at Mount Hiko—probably through Usa Hachiman’s influential Tendai powerbase—early in

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the thirteenth century. The oldest Japanese document implying that Esoteric Buddhism’s two main mandalas’ ritual processes were used as a structuring device for mountain peregrinations is the Shozan Engi, also of the Kamakura period, which details the Kii Peninsula-­based rites.45 The following shows that the best evidence to the effect that the mandalization of the range between Mount Hiko and Mount Hōman is a Kamakura period phenomenon is incontrovertible. One recalls that Retired Emperor Go-Shirakawa had created the Ima-Kumano Shrine in Kyoto in 1160, and that in 1181 he registered a number of sites of cult among which Mount Hiko was recorded as responsible for certain types of offerings. Furthermore, the 1213 Hikosan Ruki mentions the following: [Cave number] eight: Ima-Kumano Cave Structure [hōden] of eight ken. The avatars of the Twelve Sites of Kumano and all the Nyaku-ōji are the objects of the cult dedicated therein. The honji and suijaku are as noted in Hongū Nikki. In front of Worship Hall there is a large boulder of which it is said that a hermit is practicing therein, and that one can faintly hear bell sounds issuing from it. In a side cave there is Senju Kannon, near which statues of Amida and his two attendants have been carved on the rock surface. Also carved on the rock are moonshapes in which shittan [siddham.] graphs symbolizing Shakamuni, Amida, and Dainichi are engraved. This area is also called Kayoi Cave.46

This text implies that the shittan engravings of the cave named Ima-Kumano were made between 1181 and 1213, during the events that marked the break between the Heian and Kamakura periods. Northern Kyushu was deeply marked by these events, as is indicated by the destruction of the Usa Hachiman complex in 1184 by Ogata warlords, and the annihilation of the Taira armies at Dan-­noura by the Minamoto warlords in 1185. Should one climb up the steep cliffs giving access to that cave and look around, the view to the northwest is impressive: overlooking the mountain ranges that lead all the way to Mount Hōman and beyond, one can also see the location of Dazaifu, and it is of no little significance that an urn recently uncovered near this cave yielded the name of a Chinese man, Chinese porcelain, and a Korean bronze statue. The three shittan graphs engraved above the cave are the esoteric emblems of Shakamuni nyorai ( ), Amida nyorai ( ), and Dainichi nyorai ( ), thereby suggesting the overwhelming influence of esotericism at the time. Further proof is offered by the massive sculptures of Dainichi nyorai, of Fudō myōō and his two acolytes, and of parts of the two mandalas engraved on the

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high cliffs located on the southern part of the Kunisaki Peninsula: they are called the “Kumano” cliff engravings, and their location currently serves as the starting point for the peregrination around the peninsula (the day after the participants have paid their respects to the three sacred stones of Hachiman near the summit of Mount Omoto). According to Watanabe Fumio the Dainichi sculpture may date back to the mid-Heian period, while the Fudō sculpture and mandala engravings must have been completed before 1228.47 In other words, the extent of esotericism in relation to mountain cults at Mount Hiko as well as around the Kunisaki Peninsula can be accurately dated to the late Heian and early Kamakura periods: the world of mandalas was beginning to be an essential aspect of practices and understandings linked to mountain cults, and it is therefore quite possible that mandalized peregrinations were in formative stages at the time. As Sasaki Tetsuya points out, an Edo period document mentions that as far back as 1256 Mount Hiko’s authorities asked Mount Hōman’s authorities to grant nine yamabushi the sendatsu rank which suggests that the two mountains were already connected by peregrinations at the time (the sendatsu rank was granted to yamabushi who had completed four peregrinations, and the daisendatsu rank to those who had completed nine courses). This date gathers weight, Sasaki argues, if one looks at an inscription on Mount Hōman dated 1318: above the inscription are engravings of the seed-­letters (shuji) of Dainichi nyorai of the Adamantine and Matrix mandalas, and below the inscription is a statement concerning the sixteenth mineiri completion on the part of a daisendatsu named Kōyō, in 1256.48 In other words, the mandalization of the course between Mount Hiko and Mount Hōman must have been established prior to that date. Located at some point between these two mountains is a site called Koishiwara Shinzen shuku (lodge), which was regarded as the site of the non-­differentiation between the Adamantine and Matrix mandalas; the course between Mount Hōman and this spot was regarded as the “verso” course (autumn mineiri) symbolized by the Adamantine mandala’s thirty-­seven deities enshrined in as many sites (shuku), while the course between this spot and Mount Hiko was regarded as the “recto” course (spring mineiri) symbolized by the Matrix mandala’s nine deities seated in the eight-­petalled lotus blossom that forms the central court of this mandala. The obviously older summer “flower offering” course (hanaku) was joined to these two courses, and the mandalized course was then referred to as consisting of “three peaks” (sanpō), that is, the three mineiri ascetic peregrinations that became the hallmark of Mount Hiko’s Shugendō and were copied around the country. By the mid-­fifteenth century the system had evolved to a great degree: the 1445 Hikosan Shojin’eki Shidai mentions four mountain peregrinations, two of

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which overlapped in the spring: one mineiri starting on the fifteenth of the second month, and another starting on the twenty-­ninth of the same month; third, the flower offering course starting on the tenth day of the third month, and fourth, the fall mineiri starting on the last day of the seventh month. Even though this document does not mention details on what courses may have been followed, it is an important source because it is the first to mention social distinctions that directly bear on the issue of hierarchy in relation to peregrination, and to other ritual as well as social matters. Indeed, if one compares the types of rituals listed in the 1213 Hikosan Ruki with those listed in the 1445 Hikosan Shojin’eki Shidai, it is obvious that a number of social changes had occurred in the mountain’s community over the course of some 230 years, and that these changes were reflected in the types of rituals it performed as well as in the types of relationships among its members. The direct cause of the social relationships’ changes, it is safe to surmise, was the appointment of an aristocracy-­born abbot in 1333, and the ensuing transformation of Mount Hiko’s institutions into a monzeki, that is, a shrine-­ temple complex headed by tonsured aristocrats who nonetheless married and then transmitted their position to one of their sons (or adopted sons if they were not married). At Mount Hiko, however, not all could hope to enter the abbot’s line either by marriage or adoption, and only the fullfledged yamabushi and shitogata could do so; they would then be known as atsukaibō (intercessors), while the sōgata (iroshi and katanashi) were not given the same privilege. One seed of the long-­lasting and gradually intensifying disparities that were eventually reinforced in the Edo period by the cultural world of Nativist Studies at large can be identified in this social distinction: those people who could enter the abbot’s line for the purpose of producing a male heir were predominantly “Buddhist,” while the sōgata were predominantly occupied with kami matters. This means that cultic affiliations were marked by social inequality, and although these distinctions may originally have been based on birth, it is clear that by the middle of the Edo period they came to generate rather uneasy feelings.

Mandalized itineraries The two mandalized courses, that between Mount Hiko and Mount Hōman, and the other between Mount Hiko and Mount Fukuchi, are roughly known. They were marked by forty-­eight stops called shuku (lodges), the location of which, in some cases, has been identified. Though they are known by name, the lodges whose location has not yet been identified may never be known, for they have

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been overgrown with vegetation or have disappeared over the course of the past 100 years because of the radical and swift changes in land use Kyushu was subjected to. Indeed, the best research on the topic has been performed by archaeologists and local historians. The same is true of the forty-­nine caves of earlier times, of which only thirty-­one have been identified so far. Each mandalized course consisted of forty-­eight lodges, the first one always remaining secret. The names of the spring and autumn courses’ respective lodges are listed below; the maps show only a very rough outline of the courses. Pronunciation is often uncertain. Spring course:

1. Within Mount Hiko’s inner perimeter, between the fifteenth and twentieth of the second month: Gyōja-­dō; Ōminami Cave; Ushi Cave; Komorimizu Cave; Fukkoshi Cave; Kosasa Cave; Neko dōji 2. From Ōminami Cave to Dainichi-­ga-take: Minami lodge; Onotōge tsutefuda; Fukakura lodge; Tamaki lodge; Shaka-­ga-take kochō fuda 3. From Dainichi-­ga-take to Koishiwara Jinzen lodge: Aigyō seto; Fue Iwaya lodge; Jinzen lodge 4. Kyōdai-­ga-take Hanadate fuda 5. From Koishiwara to Mount Hōman: Kongōzaka Gongen Mitsubanadate fuda; Kamatōge fuda; Mami-­ga-take fuda; Oku-­no-in kochō fuda, Hakusan Honkin tsutefuda; Gogakuyama lodge, Itsutsuyama kochō fuda; Nete lodge; Mount Hōman 6. From Mount Hōman to Mount Hiko: Haseyama ninogohō fuda; Tsuetachi fuda. Autumn course: By the early sisteenth century peregrination courses and doctrinal interpretations were set by Akyūbō Sokuden in his Sanpō Sōshō Hōsoku Mikki (written between 1521 and 1526), which states the following: West: Mount Kamado [Hōman]. Adamantine realm. Judging the effect, one looks for the cause. Verso course.49 Autumn: converting living beings at the foot of mountains. Center: Shinzen [Jinzen?]. Union of the Matrix and Adamantine realms. Neither cause nor effect. Summer: course without distinction of recto or verso. Self and others are one. East: Mount Hiko. Matrix realm. Pursuant to the cause, one reaches the effect. Recto course. Spring: searching for one’s own awakening in the mountains.50

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I choose to translate the technical term jun as “recto” and gyaku as “verse”’ for the following reasons. Historically, the term jun was used by the Kumano-­based yamabushi to refer to their route from Kumano to Yoshino, and the term gyaku was later used to denote the reverse course from Yoshino to Kumano. The two terms, however, have had varied meanings in China, where they typically refer to good or bad luck as well as to normal features of the course of nature as opposed to abnormalities, and so on. In technical manuals of esoteric meditation on graphic symbols, however, the term jun is used to denote a movement from the center toward the periphery of a single shittan graph, or of a group of graphs arranged in circles; this movement is known as junsenden. There is little question, then, that the terms jun and gyaku in Shudendō practice refer to a movement away from the base (jun), and of return to that base (gyaku). Another ground for this terminology is the fact that in the ritualized meditation on the Jōjin-­e court of the Adamantine mandala, the term recto indicates a movement from the periphery to the center of the court, while the term verso refers to a movement from the center to the periphery of the court. Major Shugendō centers such as Kumano, Haguro, and Katsuragi use the same terms with slight interpretive and temporal variations, although it seems that jun always refers to spring, and gyaku to fall, that is, according to the “normal” course of things. Other possible translations of these two terms might be: forth and back, advance and retreat, progress and regress, but they seem impractical and misleading, even if only slightly more so, than recto and verso. As noted earlier, the oldest mandalized course joined Mount Hiko and Mount Hōman, while the flower offering course—which, so far as I know, was not mandalized—may have had an even longer history. As for the Fukuchi course, it is thought that it was created some time during the Muromachi period by Mount Hiko’s yamabushi, who regarded Mount Fukuchi as the Adamantine Realm mandala, just as they had, prior to that time, regarded Mount Hōman, and this requires some explanation. As Sasaki Tetsuya has shown, a document authored by Mount Hiko’s katanashi reports that the yamabushi who were engaged in the fall course in 1583 could not return to their mountain because most residences and temples of Mount Hiko had been destroyed by warfare, and that they temporarily took refuge at a lodge located somewhere along the Hiko-Fukuchi course. The creation of the Fukuchi course must have been caused by the fact that Mount Hōman’s yamabushi did not engage in their own peregrinations between 1557 and 1593, that is, during the military and political upheavals of the Sengoku period. Indeed, Takahashi Akitane, a warlord related by blood to the Ōtomo, built a fortification on Mount Hōman’s ridges in 1552, and the castle stood until its

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Figure 7  Process of meditation on Jōjin section of the Adamantine Mandala

kiriiku (hrīh.): Amida nyorai (the tathāgata Amitābha), west taraaku (trāh.): Hōshō nyorai (the tathāgata Ratnasam.bhava), south baanku (vām . h.): Dainichi nyorai (the tathāgata Mahāvairocana), center aku (ah.): Fukūjōju nyorai (the tathāgata Amoghasiddhi), north un (hum . ): Ashuku nyorai (the tathāgata Aks.obhya), east.

destruction in 1586. Mount Hiko itself sustained sieges and attacks on the part of Ōtomo warlords between 1581 and 1587, as a result of which mandalized peregrinations were subjected to disruptions. The yamabushi nonetheless attempted to maintain their space-­based practices, even as those warlords who caused these conflicts attempted to curb the mandalized peregrinations, activities they deemed “not merely religious” in character and saw as potential threats to their military and political position.51 It is then that Akyūbō Sokuden played a crucial local role, for he assisted in providing a doctrinal and practical backbone

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for new mandala-­based understandings that would rationalize continued use of the Hiko-Fukuchi course. This he did in his Rokurokutsū Injin, in which he proposed new mandala configurations and localizations. Thus, in the case of the spring course’s meditative practices he identified the entire space between Mount Hiko’s South Peak and Mount Hōman’s Sanctuary as the “Ground of the Matrix Realm Mandala” and wrote: The central point of practice is that the region between Mount Hiko’s Southern Peak and the Shinzen lodge corresponds to the site of practice of incipient Buddhas (zaiden manda). Matrix Realm. The region between the Shinzen lodge and Mount Hōman’s Sanctuary corresponds to the itinerary followed by the already awakened ones (shutsuden manda) in the Adamantine realm. The Shinzen [lodge] is the site of non-­differentiation of the Matrix and Adamantine [realms]. It is [symbolized by] the Adamantine Youth Kōshō, whose essence is Bishamonten. The Hōman Sanctuary is the Diamond within the Matrix, [symbolized by] Jūichimen Kannon. [This Bodhisattva] holds a vase [containing the] water of wisdom symbolized by the shittan graph [vam ∙ ] in the Adamantine [realm]. The term ‘vase’ suggests the overall meaning of Matrix. It is [symbolized by] the shittan graph [àh. ] in the Matrix realm. [. . .] The component hō [in Hōman] symbolizes the wisdom of suchness in the Adamantine realm (hosshōchi), while the component man symbolizes the Matrix filled with all principles [that are necessary for attaining awakening (rigu enman)].

In the case of the autumn course meditative practices, Sokuden wrote: The course between Mount Fukuchi and Mount Hiko’s North Peak is the Adamantine realm mandala. Mount Fukuchi’s avatar’s essence is the Bodhisattva Kokuzō, as well as Mahāvairocana of the Adamantine realm. [. . .] The course between Mount Hiko’s South Peak and Mount Hōman’s Sanctuary corresponds to the Matrix realm mandala. The course between Mount Hiko’s North Peak and Mount Fukuchi corresponds to the Adamantine realm mandala.52

Slightly confusing as it may be, this text became the basis for the Edo period courses that included both Mount Hōman (to the northwest but starting from Mount Hiko’s South Peak) and Mount Fukuchi (to the north, and starting from Mount Hiko’s North Peak). The topography of Mount Hiko, consisting as it does of three peaks, was again put to use for a spiritual/practical purpose. The names of known lodges located between Mount Hiko and Mount Hōman during the medieval period are listed below. As of this writing, only twenty-­nine of forty-­eight have been located. In most cases these locations are the same as

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Map 13  Mount Hiko three mineiri

during the Edo period, but there are enough discrepancies to avoid thinking that the medieval and early modern courses were strictly identical. Question marks indicate a conjectural reading. Sōji-­in lodge; Kashiki gohō lodge; Kōji gohō lodge; Ichi-­no-gohō lodge; Masuda Jingū fuda; Amida lodge (Noda Amida fuda); Ōtō-­chō (Benki); Agano-­gū; Eimanji Yakushi fuda; No name. May have been close to the Hie Shrine of Nōgata City; Tonno-­gū fuda; Shaku-­ga-take lodge; Fukuchi lodge; Ryōkai lodge; Kibe lodge; Saidō-­sho; Ryū-­ga-hana lodge; Kinpusen kochō fuda (Yanamizu lodge); Ajibu lodge (Toshiro lodge); Uchida-­gū fuda; Aigyō lodge; Ganjaku lodge (Soeda lodge); Hatakeyama lodge (Nishibatake lodge); Hedate (?) lodge; Watauchi lodge; Hōgabaru lodge; Midarebashi lodge; Tanuki Iwaya lodge; Togiba lodge.

The forty-­eight lodges during the early modern period (A)  Recto course (Spring: from Mount Hiko to Mount Hōman and back). The mineiri started on the fifteenth day of the second month, and was completed on the tenth day of the fourth month. In parentheses are the names of the Eight Great Adamantine Youths (Hachi dai kongō dōji), protectors of the yamabushi who peregrinated through the seventy-­five “stations” (nabiki) that were established between Kumano and Yoshino in the Kii Peninsula, and were worshipped during the medieval period along the Hiko-Hōman course. Question marks indicate a conjectural reading.

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Gegū; Chūgū; Sonae lodge; Ōshino lodge; Komorimizu (Gose); Hosshin; Fukikoshi; Satozaka; Byōbu; Ōtawa [?]; Mizunomi (Jihi); Asebi [?]; Fukakura; Kūtai; Tamaki (Koshō); Jikyōsha; Tenpōrin; Koya; Shō no Iwaya (Aikō); Uchi; Jinzen; Taiko; Fudō (Akujo); Chie; Shitchūji [?]; Heichi [?] Miei (Kenkō); Kosaka; Takahase [?]; Sōzu; Kikō [?]; Noguchi; Shirakawa; Gogakuyama [?]; Yoko’o [?]; Nete (Kokū); Waki; Funaishi; Tsuya; Kamado; Hokke; Shishi; Tō-in; Chū-­in; Sai-­in; Ōta; Yanagi. [The first cave name is revealed by oral transmission only].

(B)  Summer: the Flower offering (hanaku) course started on the last day of the second month, and was completed on the tenth day of the fourth month. During the Edo period the summer course was the same as the spring course, that is, from Mount Hiko to Mount Hōman and back. (C)  Verso course (Autumn: from Mount Hiko to Mount Fukuchi and back). This course started on the last day of the seventh month and was completed on the sixth day of the eighth month, and from that day to the fourth day of the ninth month. In parentheses are the names of the Seven Great Adamantine Youths (Shichidaikongō dōji) who protected yamabushi peregrinating through the twenty-­eight caves of the Katsuragi Range in the Kansai area, and who were worshipped by Mount Hiko yamabushi during the medieval period. The Eight Great Adamantine Youths of the Ōmine range and the Seven Great Adamantine Youths of the Katsuragi range are said to have revealed themselves to En no Gyōja when Zaō gongen appeared to him. At Mount Hiko their listing represents the influence of Katsuragi and Kumano Shugendō during the medieval period, but their names disappear from lodge lists from the mid-­seventeenth century on. Question marks indicate a conjectural reading. Sōji-­in; Kashiki; Kōji gohō; Ichi-­no-gohō; Amida; Shika’o; Ogura; Tarawara; Shirakusakura [?]; Kenkō Takami [?]; Sakurata’o; Aimakoe [?]; Sugawara; Ishigoza [?]; Shaku-­dake (Kokūgo); Fukuchi (Kokūku); Ryōkai; Kibe; Ryū-­gahana (Kongō); Yanamizu [?] (Hōzō); Komiya; Ajibu; Kamakoe; Tatsu [?]; I-no-­ take; Ōsakayama [?]; Togishiro; Aigyō; Ganjaku (Zōgo); Soeda; Hatakeyama; Nishibatake; Hedate [?]; Watauchi; Hōgabaru [?] (Jumyō); Midarebashi; Tanuki-­ no-iwaya; Togiba; Ike-­no-o [?] (Hōgo); Oku-­no-in; Oto [?]; Ishi gohō; Hottai ta’o [?]; Sonae; Chūgū; Ichi-­no-take; Gegū; [The first cave’s name by oral transmission only].

Among the amounts of work that need to be done in the future, priority should be the connection between all these lodges to the deities found in the two main mandalas of Shingon/Tendai esotericisms. I have proposed a long time ago such connections for the Matrix mandala in the Kumano range, which indicates that

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only a choice of deities therein could be evidenced, and it must have been the case here as well.53 Detailed and precise GPS-based maps of the lodges’ location are also a priority.

Practices in the mountains Mandalized peregrinations represented a great deal of work, required much mental as well as physical concentration, and often led to exhaustion. They were rigidly organized, and each group of participants (separated by experience and ensuing rank) was given a set of specific duties and regulations to be observed at all times. All were sworn to secrecy; should they break their oath they were threatened with punishment by the Buddhas and the kami. These punishments ranged from terrible illnesses to being thrown into bottomless hells. The regulations were posted at lodges where nights were spent, and were read aloud twice every evening. The oath of secrecy was known as the Testamentary Admonition of the Founding Patriarch, or as the Golden Nail Testamentary Admonition, and was uttered in front of the leader and to the beat of a metal drum. The 1826 version of the oath reads as follows: The mountain ranges [extending from] Mount Hiko are the sacred spaces of the mandalas of the two realms [Matrix and Diamond], as our high patriarch, En no Ubasoku [En no Gyōja], following esoteric rites and exerting himself through ascetic practices in mountains and forests, located the various divinities [of the two mandalas] on high peaks and dusky vales. This Way is exceedingly profound and beyond conceptualization; consisting of secret rites, it is an esoteric practice causing those who have not yet studied to let the mind of awakening arise in themselves. It is forbidden to discuss the contents of rites with first-­time practitioners prior to initiation into those rites, even though masters and disciples may be wise men and virtuous ones. All the more, then, is it forbidden to discuss these with lay folk. Apprised of these matters I swear that, should I ever reveal the contents of these rites to non-­initiates, I shall be punished by Brahma (Bonten) and Indra (Taishakuten) as well as by all kami of this country composed of more than sixty provinces; I shall be struck with black leprosy, white leprosy and other fatal diseases, and shall fall headlong to the bottomless hells. Such are the Testamentary Admonitions of the Founding Patriarch.54

The regulations for the various groups indicate the irresistible character of mountain cultic practices: an emphasis on hierarchy, attention to excruciating detail concerning the minutest bodily movement and the techniques of teaching

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and initiation. Discipline was at the core of these concerns, for it governed all activities of the body-­mind, which it marked in the process of germination of Buddhahood. This process was referred to as “practices of the ten realms,” which consisted of behavior that corresponded to the six destinations of transmigration and the four realms said to transcend those. Each of the ten realms was actually a domain of existential destiny caused by behavior, and was experienced symbolically by undergoing certain practices while in the mountains. The first was the lowest destiny, the realm of hells; it was experienced symbolically by engaging in atoning practices (gōhyō). The second was the realm of hungry ghosts, which was experienced by way of fasting. The third was the realm of animals, experienced by way of abstaining from drinking. The fourth was the realm of the forever fighting ashura, experienced through sumō wrestling. The fifth was the realm of humanity, symbolized by engaging in penitence rites. The sixth was the realm of heavenly divinities, experienced through the performance of longevity-­enhancing dances (ennen). The first of the four realms transcending transmigration was the vehicle of the Auditors (śrāvaka), and was symbolized by mountain ascetics wearing bikhu clothing, as well as by understanding the four noble truths. The second was the pratyekaBuddha vehicle (self-­enlightened Buddhas), symbolized by mountains ascetics wearing the tokin implement on their foreheads, and by understanding the twelve causal factors. The third was the Bodhisattva vehicle, symbolized by self-­ mortification in the name of others, and by understanding the six perfections. And the last of the four was the Buddha vehicle, symbolized by engaging in the rite of tokogatame body positioning and receiving the Complete Initiatory Unction (shōkanjō). Overarching as it may seem, however, this program was set within a large number of ritual precautions and activities, and could not occur without attention to daily needs, foremost among which was water. Food for offerings and for sustenance was carried to the ascetics by the shitogata, who were also responsible for carrying implements and texts, but the wood branches (kogi) used for the goma fire rituals had to be picked up everyday by the new inductees. Much was transmitted orally and never consigned in writing, so that our knowledge is quite limited; the few texts written by yamabushi leaders offer good insights into timing and a host of practices, but always mention that there are secret oral transmissions concerning this or that rite, so that we are left in the dark, more often than not. In any case, these endeavors were not for the faint of heart; sleeping time was strictly limited and was often disrupted for mid-­night instructions or initiations, or to cause fear and thus enable shifts in consciousness;

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food intake was scarce, but at times was more considerable and accompanied by miki—so that initiates might fall into a deep sleep, only to be rudely awakened in the middle of the night by elder yamabushi banging the walls from outside. The duration of fasting days varied over time, between three and seven days; and water was not allowed for three days, so that exhaustion quickly stepped in and some inductees fell ill—in which case they were put to death by stoning in order to remove the impurity inflicted on the group and its activities. Seven sanctuaries known as yamabushizuka (yamabushi funerary mounds), consisting of a pile of stones surrounding a large stone set vertically at the center, are dedicated to these yamabushi and are visible today on the peregrination paths between Mount Hiko, Mount Hōman and Mount Fukuchi. Stoning to death (ishikozume, called at Mount Hiko ishikozumi) was a gruesome but highly ritualized undertaking, and even a superficial look indicates its spatial character. In his book on the Shugendō of Tosa Province in Shikoku, Hiroe Kiyoshi states that there are only two extant written records of a yamabushi’s death by stoning, but this is clearly wrong if one sees these stone mounts in Kyushu.55. This practice must be related to the topic of the late medieval Nō play Tanikō (The Valley Rite), which focused on a youth who fell ill during the Yoshino-Kumano course. Apparently, only inductees in mandalized peregrinations were submitted to this fate. Many of the lodges where the yamabushi spent their nights consisted of wooden structures, some small, some large. These lodges were approached and entered ritually, seating therein was oriented, and the lodges were left ritually after complete cleansing inside and outside. Initiations took place therein, as well as a number of rituals ranging from flower offering to scripture chanting. During the mandalized peregrinations of Mount Hiko every yamabushi had to perform a list of ritual activities known as sanji kingyō (triple duty). The first had to be completed between seven and nine in the evening, and consisted in chanting the Heart Sutra in three fascicles; in reciting 100 times each the spells of the Adamantine and Matrix Realms; in reciting 100 times the second of Fudō myōō’s three spells (jikuju: namaku samanta basaratan senda makaroshana sa hataya un tarata kanman (Skt., Namah. samanta-­vajrān.ām can.d.a mahāros.an.a sphat.aya hūm.trāt. ham. mām.) in reciting 100 times the title-­names of the Sacred Youths protecting the practitioners; in the sanjō shakujō rite, which consisted of shaking one’s staff while reciting the first three of the nine paragraphs of the Kujō shakujō text; in reciting once the text of the ritual association of the body with the five elements; and in reciting once the eight-­verse stanza of the Renge zanmai kyō.56

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The second set of daily duties, to be performed between 3 and 5 a.m., consisted in Kujō shakujō, in reciting the Heart Sutra in three fascicles, in chanting 100 times each the spells of the Adamantine and Matrix Realms, in chanting 100 times Fudō myōō’s spell, in reciting 100 times the title-­names of the Sacred Youths protecting the practitioners; in reciting once the text of the ritual association of the body with the five elements; and in reciting once the eight-­ verse stanza of the Renge zanmai kyō. The third set of daily duties, finally, was to be performed between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m., and consisted in chanting the entire Kujō shakujō text; in chanting the Heart Sutra in three fascicles; in reciting 100 times each the spells of the Adamantine and Matrix Realms; in reciting 100 times Fudō myōō’s spell; in reciting 100 times the title-­names of the Sacred Youths protecting the practitioners; in chanting once the kogi stanza (usually chanted after making a triple offering of wooden slats used in the goma fire ritual); in reciting once the text of the ritual association of the body with the five elements; and in reciting once the eight-­verse stanza of the Renge zanmai kyō. This list evidences an emphasis on recitation, ritual implements, ritual protection, and on the body-­mind as a “space” on which work needed to be done because it was the site of the realization of Buddhahood. In terms of ritual implements, the yamabushi were taught intricate meanings of every single aspect of the implements they carried or were dressed in. The most important of these was the creel (oi), of which there were several kinds. The creel carried by the leader of the group was held to be that of Shugendō’s patriarch En no Ozunu, or to at least embody him; as such, it was the object of many rituals, and of the following interpretation reported by Akyūbō Sokuden in the sixteenth century: The creel used in Shugendō embodies both the principle and the susbstance of the seed-­letter [a], and its meaning encompasses all phenomena of the ten realms. The fact that it holds grains of the five cereals indicates that it symbolizes the germination process of Buddha Nature. Its height (one shaku and eight sun) symbolizes the eighteen realms.57 Its width (one shaku and two sun) symbolizes the twelve causal factors. Its two legs (five sun in length) symbolize the fact that they are replete with the various phenomena that make up the ten realms for lay folk. The creel’s upper plate is the ritual platform of the seed-­letter [a] of the Matrix Realm. Its height (one shaku and three sun) symbolizes the thirteen great [courts of the Matrix mandala]. Its width (nine sun) symbolizes the nine deities of the lotus blossom’s central court and its eight petals. Those yamabushi who reflect on this will not fail to realize that every single thought of theirs contains all phenomena of the ten realms. Is this not sublime?58

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This creel, then, symbolized the Matrix Realm mandala. The mountain ascetics set on top of their creel a rectangular box called katabako in which they kept ritual documents and such necessary tools as ink, paper, and inkstone (the katabako is abandoned in contemporary practices). This box was also the object of semiotic overlay: The “shoulder-­box” (katabako) is the secret container of Shugendō doctrine. Its shape symbolizes the seed-­letter of the Adamantine Realm mandala. It contains secret documents that outline the rites performed during the mandalized peregrinations. Its height (one shaku and eight sun) stands for the eighteen realms. Its width (six sun) stands for the six elements [that make up the body-­mind and the universe]. Its depth (five sun) symbolizes the five wisdoms. Those who carry it will earn incalculable merits even though they may not understand all doctrinal points. Such is the reason why our high patriarch set up rules for making ritual implements.59

This katabako box, then, symbolized the Adamantine Realm mandala. The symbolism of what the creel and the box contain is in perfect harmony with what the two mandalas are said to represent. In the case of the Matrix Realm mandala, the grains of the five cereals stood for the process of production of the universe qua awakening. And in the case of the Adamantine Realm mandala, the texts represented the principle of the universe and of the knowledge that acquires it. Reborn through rituals concerning conception, growth, and birth; mystically identified with Fudō myōō (the wrathful form of the Buddha Mahāvairocana); protected by Heavenly Youths as they trekked through vast mountain ranges and labored through numerous and fastidious rites; awash in agricultural symbolism, the yamabushi produced their own territory, which they conceived of as a space in which nothing differentiated mere living from ideal being. Theirs was a spatiality bounded in a myriad ways ranging from orientation to gates, paths, and lodges; from body-­mind concepts to notions concerning the nature of the universe; from social hierarchy lines to historical (if only imagined) lineages inscription; and from relations between specialists of ritual and benefactors thereof. However, even if from today’s perspective they may be characterized as having been caught in their webs of interrelated signs and endlessly mirroring meanings, they nonetheless called for complete emancipation from all and any limitations and limits, because they thought that their rules and interpretations were what traced the royal avenue leading to emancipation and opening up onto endless space (emptiness). As we look today at the landscape of the ranges they crossed and overlaid with multiple arcane meanings, we can only hope to earn a mere glimpse of their

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mindscape through the study of their practices, of their texts, and of their mapping of immanence onto local topography. As the first “geographers” of Japan, they insisted that space did not truly exist unless it was suffused with a liberating meaning to be produced through perception (direct physio-­ psychological experience), practice (directed physio-­psychological experience), and interpretive schemata (directing modalities of experience). One is here again struck by Pierre Bourdieu’s superior understanding of the logic of practice: “All the symbolic manipulations of body experience, starting with displacements within a symbolically structured space, tend to impose the integration of body space with cosmic space and social space.”60

The Daigyōji shrines and water Tradition has it that forty-­eight shrines bearing the name Daigyōji, a term that might be translated as “great official,” were built on land domains controlled by Mount Hiko perhaps as early as the Heian period and later, over the course of the late Kamakura and early Muromachi periods. These shrines’ history is poorly known, but it followed the ups and downs of Mount Hiko’s economic power, and the Meiji cultural revolution inflicted on them long-­lasting damage and major structural changes or, in some cases, total destruction, so that little can be said with any certainty. The most comprehensive list of these shrines was established by Ōga Shinshō, who names forty sites of cult he classifies in the following manner: five were located within the sacred perimeter; six were located along the “Six Ranges” of Mount Hiko; seven were located in villages at the foot of Mount Hiko (of these, only five locations are known today); and twenty-­two were located in villages extending to the outer limits of Mount Hiko’s land estates.61 The function of these shrines is said to have been the protection of both Mount Hiko and the population associated with the shrines at the times of ritual; those Daigyōji Shrines that were located on land estates symbolized Mount Hiko’s control as well. Seven such shrines were located at the strategic points of the “Four Gates” and “Three Entrances” on the roads leading to the mountain and the limits of the sacred perimeter. A further function was spiritual: many of these shrines belong to the triple-­shrine set of sanctuaries often associated with Shugendō. That is, the triple set consists of a lower shrine, a middle shrine, and an upper shrine (which can very distant from each other), and are dedicated to mountain kami. Last but not least, nearly all shrines display a feature that should not be ignored: they face the rivers that take their sources on the slopes of Mount

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Hiko, and their officiants must have played a role in maintaining the purity of water for ritual and agricultural purposes, and may even have overseen water-­ sharing rights, or intervened when conflicts over those occurred. Some of these shrines are rather large, and one can still see on their grounds traces of residences for monks who may have controlled the working population on the estates, and who must have engaged in a variety of rites by now abandoned. There is no question that the majority of rivers that irrigate northern Kyushu are related to Mount Hiko, whose shrines and temples symbolized its claims to produce and maintain the fertility of fields, and to guarantee water purity and flow as well as rain in a timely fashion. Indeed, an analysis of the river system of the area does bear out this notion, and a search for water-­related rituals confirms the cultic character of food production as well as the social issues connected to water sharing. The picture of a vast cultic system thus emerges from an analysis of water systems connected to ritual features, and of lengthy peregrinations whose participants went from Mount Hiko along ridges near sources of water, and returned along water-­filled paddy fields located at the base of those ranges. Mount Hiko’s spatialities, then, were characterized by cultic, economic, and social features that were all interrelated, and if anything more can be said of the yamabushi without fear of hyperbole, they covered the ground and knew water sources and their economic uses, but lost control over both. I hope that in the future we will see detailed studies of these sanctuaries in relation to land estates, in the spirit of those detailed studies that have been conducted with regard to the estates of the Kunisaki Peninsula. And I hope that more research will be conducted on the topic of water-­share shrines (mikumari jinja) in relation to mountains and water divides (bunsui rei). Indeed, a recent book on the topic of Japan’s water divides shows that the majority of mountain ranges that form several water divides across the country are, in fact, those ranges and peaks which Shugendō held to be sacred.62 It is also absolutely clear that sources of water and many wells were considered sacred: all texts mention them in the case of Mount Hōman, of Mount Hiko, of Mount Kubote, of Mount Fukuchi, and of many peaks in the Kunisaki Peninsula as well as in the Usa region. For centuries, Japan’s mountain ascetics were called on to perform rain-­making rituals, to divine the location of sources of water, to call on the divinities of lakes; and their sacred mountains are always related to water sources, wells, and lakes, near which they erected sanctuaries and performed rituals for agrarian fertility. They purified themselves in rivers and under waterfalls, many of which they loaded with extensive symbolism. And they performed daily rites to consecrate water in

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the course of their mandalized peregrinations, water they would offer to the deities or would use for their own needs. Finally, it must be underlined that half of each of their mandalized courses exactly followed the water divides of northeast Kyushu. Mount Hiko’s Daigyōji Shrines may best be viewed in this light, although one must also pay attention to the slow decadence of these institutions over the course of the Edo period. This decadence was due to the fact that Mount Hiko lost control over its estates, and had to increasingly rely on lay patrons for survival. As the yamabushi traveled around Kyushu and western Honshu to garner support, and as they gained economic support from people in cities and towns close and far, their local role in water systems faded away.

Usa Hachiman’s oracular spatialities63 The early fourteenth-­century document entitled Hachiman Usa-­gū Gotakusenshū, “Compendium of Oracles Proffered by Hachiman at the Usa Sanctuary” is quite a remarkable text and the very structure of its organization compels one to see in time and space the key settings for the production and interpretation of oracular speech.64 The author of this document was Jin’un (1231–1314), who was born in the Ōga sacerdotal house. He did not become a sacerdotal officiant of the Usa Hachiman Shrine, however. Instead, he became a Buddhist monk and eventually rose to the position of leading scholarly monk of the Mirokuji, the set of temples that governed Usa’s Shrine-­temple complex but had been burnt to the ground in 1184; in contemporary Japanese scholarly works he is usually referred to as having been a shasō, “shrine-­monk.” It will be recalled that before their defeat at Dan-­no-ura in 1185, the Taira had stayed in the Usa area and that the Usa sacerdotal house allowed them to “borrow” the Usa Shrine-­temple complex as an imperial residence for the infant emperor Antoku. On the sixth day of the seventh month of 1184, however, the warlord Ogata Koreyoshi and his brother Koretaka levied an army and attacked the site of cult, reducing it to ashes and causing as much widespread consternation and lament as when, four years earlier, the Taira had reduced the Tōdaiji Temple of Nara to cinders. The destruction of the Usa Hachiman complex was apparently so complete that Nakano Hatayoshi went so far as to write that the history of Usa after 1184 is little more than that of its slow reconstruction. Jin’un planned to play a central part in this process with his compilation of the Compendium, for he realized that mytho-­history was the symbolic key to gathering the material goods that

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would be necessary to both the reconstruction of the site of cult and the recovery and maintenance of its landholdings. Furthermore, the first Mongol invasion, in 1274, stirred many a feeling in Kyushu and elsewhere, but it certainly caused strong if not virulent reactions in the leading centers of the Hachiman cult. It is indeed in documents of this cult that one encounters the strongest xenophobic statements of the medieval period, and many Hachiman sites of cult claimed that their divine entity was the cause of the kamikaze (divine wind), which ultimately destroyed the Mongol fleet.65 There is no doubt that the Mongol invasions caused Jin’un to reconsider the direction of history and the nature of the relations between Hachiman, the imperial state, and the warlords’ power. Indeed, the last two of the sixteen scrolls of the Compendium are dedicated to the role of Hachiman as supernatural protector of Japan’s territory. A great many historical records and documents disappeared in the 1184 destructions, and Jin’un decided to gather all available documents from various Hachiman sites of cult in Kyushu and elsewhere, in order to organize them and reconstruct the “history” of Usa. In his introduction to the Compendium he notes that he spent two decades gathering these documents, and that he began writing on the second day of the tenth month of 1290, at the age of fifty-­nine. He laid his brush down around the eighth month of 1313, and passed away the following year, on the twentieth day of the fifth month, at the age of eighty-­two. Thus, the Compendium is the result of almost a half-­century of research and writing. Jin’un does not claim to be the author of the Usa Hachiman cultic site’s history, for the source of the Compendium is ostensibly and ostentatiously a series of oracular pronouncements that would have been made by the Great Bodhisattva Hachiman itself. Jin’un acts as though he viewed his own role as no more than that of a human and frail commentator: in the Compendium, the text (that is, the oracles) is made to appear as divine, and the commentary (Jin’un’s interpretation), merely human. Or should one posit, for the sake of discussion, the opposite? Namely, that the commentary’s own relativity was politely posited as a subterfuge meant to hide the fact that it used its idolization of oracular speech only to guarantee the authenticity of its own interpretive outlook? The issue, then, is how Jin’un viewed “oracles,” “truth,” “interpretation,” and “history.” Jin’un’s understanding of Hachiman’s identity was clearly colored by two different sources of existential concern: on the one hand, he was a major Buddhist prelate to whose mind Hachiman was a Great Kami qua Great Bodhisattva who could speak no lie; on the other hand, Jin’un was a descendant of Ōga no Higi, the elderly sword smith to whom Hachiman would have manifested itself as a young

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boy standing on a bamboo branch. In other words, Jin’un had to present Hachiman as a bicephalic entity: as champion of the Mahāyāna truth system, and as guarantor of the Ōga sacerdotal house’s claim to legitimacy in the Usa Shrine-­temple complex (and furthermore, though not inconsequentially, of Jin’un’s own claim to legitimate interpretation of Hachiman’s oracles and history, these last two terms forming, in Jin’un’s mind, an inseparable tandem).66 Jin’un exposes his view of Hachiman’s oracular speech in his introduction to the Compendium in the following way: The Great Bodhisattva Hachiman is the sacred figurehead of the sixteenth generation of human sovereigns [“Emperor” Ōjin]. When [the emperor’s] precious age reached one hundred eleven years, he passed away. Upon completing supernatural journeys to India and China he broadly dispensed his virtue of compassion and, manifesting himself in various forms, he performed multifarious miracles: shadow of a past emperor, but [to us] a divine radiance, he sheds light depending on the occasion, and thus universally illuminates the world. Distinct from trees and plants though they are, separate from animals though they may be, humans are endowed with sapience, but they are prone to erring. What measure can be established, then, of [the error of] a fool? During the august reign of Emperor Kinmei there was a certain Ōga no Higi, who was no common man. Living as a mountain recluse, he concealed his whereabouts while revealing his appearance on the pathway of salvation. Subject to neither production nor destruction, he reached more than five hundred years of age. [. . .] [Hachiman] made a vow to protect the imperial line and show compassion for the people, he swore to give peace to this court and to pacify foreign lands. What do the words “protect the imperial line and show compassion for the people” mean? Only this: to progressively reveal [the nature of the Buddha’s] awakening. What do the words “give peace to this court and pacify foreign lands” mean? Only this: to dispel errors one by one. Were it not so, what else could it be? The honji are obscure and profound and reveal themselves this or that way, but the Buddha is just that: the Buddha. The body of essence is pervasive and manifests itself as all phenomena, but a kami spirit is just that: a spirit. [Therefore] one [must] surrender to the Buddha and to the kami, and, choosing a single path, pray for the present and the future. Walking on the ground of mystic realization, one expresses gratitude. [. . .] On the Buddhist level preaching takes the form called sutra; on the Shintō level it is called oracle.67 A Buddha shows his form while teaching, but a kami remains without formal aspect while speaking. [. . .] Jin’un was born in the twenty-­first generation after Higi, and studied under the twenty-­eighth generation of the Buddha’s disciples.68

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As this passage indicates, for Jin’un the relation between a Buddha (as honji, that is, essence) and a kami (as that Buddha’s suijaku, that is, hypostasis) determined the relation between a sutra and an oracle, and was characterized by the site of issuance of speech: the visible world in the case of the Buddha, the invisible world in the case of the kami. In terms of authority, an oracle (the true word of a kami) was equivalent to a sutra (the true word of a Buddha), although there was a significant distinction: one could not question the veracity of a sutra but could question it in the case of an oracle, and this had to do with political authority. Whereas the emperor did not question the contents of a sutra, he could (and did) question an oracle’s truth and decide to doubt it (Chūai—Ōjin’s father—did so but died as a result), or he could decide to countercheck, in which case what was doubted was not the oracle, but its interpreter. The authors of Kojiki had philosophized that beyond this world of appearances, that is, of things visible, there was a realm of concealed source of thought and action, not visible to the eyes and to be accessed via aural perception rather than visual perception. Needless to add, this realm was—unlike the visible world governed by rulers—the ken of sacerdotal specialists, whose function it was to cross the threshold and receive knowledge from a realm that can only be called hyperrealistic. Therefore, the future was thought of as something issuing from speech: either (in the political order) as a decree, or (in the sacerdotal order) as an oracle, and (in the Buddhist order), as a sutra.69 This alone should cause one to pause and consider the problem of absence and presence, for the question is, What caused speech to erupt as a complex set of relationships between the tongue, palate, vocal cords and so on? Was it the result of a desire yet unfulfilled— to transform a perceived absence into a satisfying presence? Was it the result of the perceived presence and comforting certainty, deep in oneself, of a divine murmur? Was it a dream?70 Was it a violent and sudden irruption, an invasion on the part a kami or a Bodhisattva?71 Was it consciously caused through the use of certain techniques?72 Why so many women and children as mouthpieces?73 And why so often in the context of inner or outer conflicts and contests, or of existential anxiety and dread?74 The Compendium alone does not provide the answers, but it helps clear some of the ground. The Hachiman Usa-­gū Gotakusenshū consists of sixteen scrolls. Each scroll bears on its outer decoration the complete title of the Compendium, preceded by a single graph; when the scrolls are put side by side the top sixteen graphs read, from right to left, Hachiman’s Bodhisattva name: Go-­koku-rei-­gen-i-­riki-jin-­zū-­ dai-ji-­zai-ō-­dai-bosatsu, preceded by the two graphs meaning “My Name [is].” The locutionary quality of the work is thus prominently displayed, both vertically

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and horizontally.75 Interestingly enough, spatial features dominate the entire organization of a work dedicated to speech and time: all scrolls focus on space, as becomes evident in the following list: Scroll 1: On the August Origins and Rank Scroll 2: On the Three Countries [India, China, Japan] Scroll 3: On the August Peregrinations around Japan Scroll 4: On the Three Sanctuaries and Others Scroll 5: On the Sites Surrounding Hishigata Pond Scroll 6: On the Ogura Hill Sanctuary (part one) Scroll 7: On the Ogura Hill Sanctuary (part two) Scroll 8: On the Ōo Sanctuary (part one) Scroll 9: On the Ōo Sanctuary (part two) Scroll 10: On the Ōo Sanctuary (part three) Scroll 11: More on the Ogura Hill Sanctuary (part one) Scroll 12: More on the Ogura Hill Sanctuary (part two) Scroll 13: On the Wakamiya Sanctuary Scroll 14: On Peak Maki (also called “On Mount Omoto”) Scroll 15: On Subjugating Foreign Lands (part one) Scroll 16: On Subjugating Foreign Lands (part two). In other words, the production (and reproduction) of speech is organized on the bases of the place where, or about which, oracular speech occurred, and of Jin’un’s faithful focus on the history of the Usa sites of cult. Be it oracular or interpretive, this speech concerns territoriality over time: its sacred origins, its maintenance, and its envisioned future, on the level of India, China and Japan; Japan in particular, on the level of the various sacred sites making up Usa; and on the related levels of imperial control, warlord intrusions, and cultic integrity. The presence of the chatty deity manifested itself on the visible ground, where shrines dedicated to commemoration were placed—as many sites of cult as there were commemorative narratives. The “origins” of Hachiman are treated differently in the first three scrolls: in the first scroll, they are treated on the basis of Nihon Shoki and Fusō Ryakki, as a matter of genealogy; in the second scroll, Hachiman’s origins are treated on the basis of international considerations, as a matter of status; and in the third scroll, they are treated on the basis of geographical origins, as a matter of territorial influence. The oracles begin in the third scroll, and they all concern place, as in the following opening lines: One. First, Utsu no Takashima in Karakuni.76 In the thirty-­second year of the reign of the Emperor Amatsukuni Oshihiraki Hironiwa, while there was a

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supernatural occurrence on the Ōo Hill of Hishigata in the Usa district of Buzen Province, and as Ōga no Higi was uttering words of supplication, Yahata [Hachiman] manifested itself as a heavenly youth and spake: “As eight banners came down from Heaven onto Karakuni-­no-shiro, I manifested myself as a Kami in Japan. I will take all living beings under my care. I am a metamorphic body of Shaka-­bosatsu.” [note by Jin’un: rest abridged]. The first human emperor, Kamu-Yamato Iwarehiko-­no-mikoto, ascended to the Palace of Indra at the age of fourteen and took hold of the Seal and Key, and subsequently returned to Karakuni-­no-shiro in Japan. This palace is called So’o-­no-mine, [which is] another name for Mount Kirishima. [. . .] Personal note: Karakuni-­no-shiro, located in Ōsumi Province, is the original site of manifestation of Emperor Ōjin’s spirit. This is known because of an imperial proclamation. Ōsumi Hachiman is Hachiman in its manifestation as the son of the Ch’en Emperor Wu’s daughter.77 Thus we know that Hachiman manifests itself in separate suijaku forms. [. . .] Next, Mount Ibuki in Yamato Province.78 Next, Nakusa Beach in Kii Province. Next, Kashima near Kibi-­no-miya. Next, Saba Yurado in Suō Province. These four sites are listed in ancient documents. No oracular pronouncements yet. Next, Uwa District in Iyo Province. Next, a large stone by Nada Beach, located in the Aki District of the Kunisaki administrative villages (gō) in Bungo Province. Oracle, dated eighth day of the intercalary tenth month of the first year of the Tenpyō-Jingo era: “In the distant past, as I proceeded from Uwa District in Iyo Province, there was a large stone offshore of Nada, in the Kunisaki administrative villages in Bungo Province, to which I pushed on in order to rest. This stone is therefore named the August Armrest Stone.”79

And so the text walks the reader through the landscape it creates, and calls for a mental map. Much of the symbolic world of the Hachiman cult rests on oracles related to travel narratives, bespeaking of territorial conquest and control, be it in the case of the famed travel from Usa to the Tōdaiji Temple’s Tamuke Hachiman Shrine in 749, of the regular set of double travel in the Gyokō-­e ritual, in the present case of Hachiman’s geographical discovery and control, or in the subsequent warlord cults that were dedicated on battle-­fields. The cult was, first and foremost, mapped onto the land. Here one recognizes a salient pattern already evident in the conquest narratives found in Kojiki, Nihon Shoki, Fudoki,

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Yamatohime no mikoto seiki and other texts, a pattern one might call with apology to Caesar: “I came, I saw, and I named.” Whether this privilege given to place was related to land estates, or to the union or gaps between actual administrative division and perceived union of land estates, is an issue that cannot be resolved at the present time, though it may be of some import.80 It is pertinent at this point to recall Kuroda Toshio’s brilliant analysis of Mount Hiei’s kike (the chroniclers of Mount Hiei’s institutions’ relation to the court), of whom he wrote that their thinking was grounded in a spatiality symbolized by the predominant organizational scheme of their existential reality, the mandala.81 This mode of thinking, Kuroda argued, can be expressed as follows: Antithetic characteristics of these two trends (a group of writings concerning the sacred area of Mount Hiei, and a group of writings describing the origins and the history of Mount Hiei) can be noted; one could say that the texts belonging to the first trend are doctrinal and tend toward secrecy and mysticism, whereas those of the second tend toward fiction and historicism. Moreover, the first originate in kimon and end up in secret oral transmissions, are made up of poetry and formulas expressing the sacred and secret character of a mystical world, while the second originate in historical events (koji) and end in prosodic and episodic fantasies expressing the profane world and its legends and miraculous events. [. . .] Generally speaking, the first trend indicates a logic that develops spatially, symbolically, and as a mandala. It is doctrinal, mystical and secretive while tending to indicate the “essence” [honji]. The second trend evidences a logic that develops temporally, is descriptive and partakes of the etiological records (engi) while tending to indicate the “hypostasis” [suijaku].82

One is thus dealing with a specific form of what Gaston Bachelard in 1958 named topophilia.83 This term was introduced into human geography three years later by Yi-Fu Tuan, and was further refined by him in his 1974 book of the same name. We are also dealing with the related concept of geopiety, a term first used by the geographer John Kirkland Wright in 1966, subsequently refined by Yi-Fu Tuan, and used or misused by myself some twenty years later.84 Innumerable are the place names related to Hachiman’s cult, either in the Compendium or other medieval etiological records (engi); what dominates all references to these sites of cult, however, is a deep sense of place, a specific sense of territoriality couched in profoundly mystical terms, and “a poetic reverie stimulated by affective ties to the elemental world and to emotionally charged places.”85 One can also detect a faint nostalgia for past claims to land estate possessions, most of which had been overtaken by warlords at the time Jin’un was writing. The oracular cult dedicated to Hachiman concerned, first and foremost, territoriality,

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and this may be why oracular speech emphasized space and time. One might add that territoriality was also, although only marginally, perhaps, a matter of social space, since it was related to control over land and people on the part of the rulers.86 Many issues raised by a cursory reading of this document remain to be discussed in much more detail, but one will suffice. It is the notion that society is an imaginary institution, and that this imagination turns into reality via speech, and especially so via divinatory and oracular speech, further reinforced (re-­enforced?), or balanced, by political proclamations. In premodern Japan these two forms of speech coexisted and needed each other, just as the institutions of the Office of the Kami of Heaven and Earth (Jingikan) and the Office of Political Matters (Dajōkan) had been supposed to form the wings fluttering on each side of the court’s backbone. Cornelius Castoriadis offers the following view on the issue: The social imaginary or instituting society exists in and through the positing-­ creating of social imaginary significations and of the institution; of the institution as the “presentification” of these significations, and of these significations as instituted.87

It is perhaps not too surprising that another proponent of this notion is the philosopher of language John Searle. In Mind, Language and Society, Searle suggests that “We cannot create a state of affairs by thinking it, but [. . .] we can see how it is possible to create institutional reality by way of the performative utterance. We can create a state of affairs by representing it as having been created.”88 If I may be so bold as to borrow and paraphrase these words, oracles are typical performative utterances that are far more superior to thinking since they can create the institutional reality that will back their legitimacy (or establish their fraudulence). It remains to be seen whether Searle’s reliance on Austin’s linguistics may help determine exactly which of his “illocutionary points” resembles most the intentionality of an oracle. According to Searle, these (five) points are as follows. First, the assertive illocutionary point, which is to commit the hearer to the truth of the proposition: it is to present the proposition as representing a state of affairs in the world. Some examples are statements, descriptions, classifications, and explanations. Second, the directive illocutionary point, which is to try to get the hearer to behave in such a way as to make his behavior match the propositional content of the directive. Third, the commissive illocutionary point, which is a commitment by the speaker to undertake the course of action represented in the propositional content. Fourth, the expressive illocutionary point, which is simply

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to express the sincerity condition of the speech act. Fifth and last, the declaration illocutionary point, which is to bring about a change in the world by representing it as having changed.”89

These five points are widely used in the oracles. At this point it is proper to return to Castoriadis: Society is, therefore, always the self-­institution of the social-­historical. But this self-­institution generally is not known as such (which has led people to believe that it cannot be known as such). The alienation of heteronomy of society is self-­ alienation; the concealment of the being of society as self-­institution in its own eyes, covering over its essential temporality. This self-­alienation—sustained by the responses that have been supplied by history up to now to the requirements of psychical functioning, by the tendency proper to the institution, and by the practically incoercible domination of identitary logic-­ontology—is manifested in the social representation (itself instituted in each case) of an extra-­social origin of the institution of society (an origin ascribed to supernatural beings, God, nature, reason, necessity, the laws of history or the being-­thus of Being).90

The italicized parts of this quotation fit not only a “modern” interpretation of oracular speech but seem to fit the misrecognition that would have made understandings current in Jin’un’s time possible at all. These understandings concern the widely shared notion, among aristocrats as well as commoners, of divine origins, divine speech, sacred grounds, and revealed (ken) and esoteric (mitsu) meanings, all of which served as institutional pillars of society and history. In conclusion, then, one may say that oracular speech depended either on presence or on absence—or on both, and that it could not be understood separately from specific chronotypes or geotypes. Furthermore, it appears that oracular speech may have been be treated by some authorities at the time as plain treachery—and by other authorities, as divine and therefore unassailable, depending on whose political power and intentionality were expressed—with due apologies to Friedrich Nietzsche—as: “Thus Spake Hachiman”.

Kunisaki: a much disturbed heterotopia A brief presentation of the region’s early medieval history followed by a discussion of the Lotus Sutra and its institutional framework in the peninsula help understand the nature of this system. The final battle that pitted the Minamoto against the Taira warlords took place in 1185 at Dan-­no-ura, a small

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bay on the southern side of Hiko Island, itself located at the western entrance of the Kanmon Straits that separate Kyushu from Honshu. The victory of the Minamoto there, as well as their subsequent establishment of the military government in Kamakura, had dramatic consequences for Kyushu, many parts of which had been pro-Taira strongholds. Although the annihilation of the Taira house heralded entirely new political, military, and economic arrangements for much of Japan, none of those arrangements took place peacefully or swiftly: they brought about much destruction in northern Kyushu, and they negatively affected life in the Kunisaki peninsula. Little is known about the actual institutions in the peninsula during the Heian period, and it is not before the twelfth century that records offering glimpses of their character come to the surface. The second part of the Heian period, however, was obviously a time of glorious achievements: the system of twenty-­eight temples mentioned in the first chapter was established by the twelfth century, and the peninsula’s more elegant temples and statues all date back to the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries, witnesses to sustained economic support. Indeed, even today—after centuries of neglect, destructions, and pillage—visitors to the region cannot but be impressed by the numerous remaining examples of refined architecture. Stone as well as wood sculptures, by the thousands, let one imagine a glorious past: the Fukiji and Maki Ōdō temples, the peninsula’s Kumano carvings of Fudō myōō next to Dainichi nyorai as well as the other stone carvings of the Heian period that dot the peninsula, including the stone statues of Usuki not far south, all indicate the depth, magnitude, and complexity of the combinatory cults that evolved in the region. The twelfth century ended in an altogether different manner: the warlords of the Ogata house, loyal to the Taira house at first but subsequently shifting allegiance to the Minamoto house, invaded the peninsula and, under the guise of taking cultic responsibility, took over estates that had been under management of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, which was then so powerful an institution that the Taira house had appointed Usa no Kinmichi, head-­priest of the complex, to the position of provincial governor. Kinmichi transformed the Usa Shrine-­temple complex into an imperial palace of sorts when the infant emperor Antoku resided there for a while. In 1184, however, the Ogata warlords attacked Usa, set the grand shrine-­temple complex on fire and entirely destroyed it, causing much consternation across the country.91 This momentous event requires some explanation. We saw earlier on that about two-­thirds of the arable land available in the provinces of Buzen and Bungo were estates commended to shrine-­temple complexes. At the time, the word

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kishin (commendation) simply meant that a title/claim to management was transferred from an individual to a shrine-­temple complex or to a member of the court. To translate the word as “grant” or “donation” would be misleading, for it was through the symbolic act of transfer that the notion of ownership became a fact at the very same time as ownership itself was split between the donor and the grantee. In Kyushu, typically, wealthy “land-­owners” were tax managers or local notables who managed estates that originally belonged, fully or in part, to the court, or which they had developed on their own. In order to gain legitimacy for their ownership claim, these tax managers frequently transferred the entitlement of such estates to various shrine-­temple complexes, thereby acquiring symbolic capital at the same time as they came to be recognized by these complexes as “donors” of the land. They would not leave these estates, however, and remained wealthy as they became estate administrators in the name of the shrine-­temple complexes; that is, they continued to oversee the development of the land, withdrew part of the yearly charges and taxes for themselves, and maintained law and order. In the best case of local autonomy they developed local administrative systems, which varied a great deal depending on the regions or on the size of the estates. In the worst case of local instability, either they or the shrine-­temple complexes transferred the “office/commission” (shiki) to courtiers, who then delegated administrative powers to the shrine-­temple complexes (such was the case of Kunisaki in 1210, when Jichin transferred entitlement to Imperial Prince Asabito). More often than not, then, an “entitlement” to estates was no more than a symbolic gesture or claim, which frequently came to rest at the highest levels of Japanese society among members of the court—in which case these members were referred to as honke-­shiki and had the right to withhold some revenue. The originators of the transfer were known as lords (ryōke-­shiki), while the administrators of the estates were known as custodians (azukaridokoro-­shiki). As can be surmised, this multi-­tiered system of entitlement claims and transfers of responsibilities was unwieldy, complex, sometimes corrupt, and weak because of its chronic instability and built-­in legal deficiencies. In the case of aristocrats such as the Fujiwara house, for example, who sometimes claimed both honke-­ shiki and ryōke-­shiki status vis-à-­vis some of their estates, the imperial house never claimed honke-­shiki status to estates of which the Fujiwara were ryōke-­ shiki title-­holders. In other words, ownership was in the early medieval period a fuzzy notion, and internecine competition for the right to manage and extract revenue from estates was the rule more than the exception. This set of complex conditions explains in part why there were so many transfers of entitlement (kishin) from individuals to shrine-­temple complexes,

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from shrine-­temple complexes to aristocrats or members of the imperial house, and from aristocrats and members of the imperial house to shrine-­temple complexes. Moreover, once they had transferred an estate entitlement to shrine-­ temple complexes, the local notables-­turned administrators of such estate did everything in their power to maintain economic and political control over it. Their first move was to arm themselves, and this seems to have been part of the process whereby many of those houses slowly formed a social class of warlords with highly local, competing interests. One exemplary case made famous by the Tale of the Heike (Heike Monogatari) is that of the Ogata warlords of Bungo Province, and it will shed light on the matter. It will be recalled that the Usa Hachiman Shrine was run, originally, by three main sacerdotal lines, the Ōga, Usa, and Karashima houses; the leading members of these lines vied for control over ritual and administrative matters in the shrine-­temple complex, which the Usa house gained by the middle of the Heian period. The Usa house then began to transmit its hereditary title to the head sacerdotal officiant position (daigūji) among its members, and the ōga house was forced into a secondary, submissive position. This situation drove some members of the Ōga house to abandon the Usa area as early as the beginning of the ninth century, and relocate in the southern region of Bungo Province, which they quickly dominated and in which they oversaw the development of a high culture symbolized by the Hachiman cult and by the large stone engravings and sculptures that have made northern Kyushu an unparalleled storehouse of Buddhist stone sculpture in Japan. These members of the Ōga house then became local officials, and subsequently crafted legends enabling them to formulate an identity that distinguished them from the ōga sacerdotal house of Usa. Over time they split into various branches that took different names, such as the Anan, Wasada, Ono, Usuki, Saga, and Kaku houses; each of these in turn branched off into new houses, whose heads eventually became land owners (myōshu) and, subsequently, stewarts (jitō). Among those, members of the Usuki house came to control estates in the name of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, such as the Usuki, Ogata, Saga, Betsuki, and Kaku estates, and each head of a branch house then took the name of an estate under its control. By the end of the twelfth century this extended Ōga house had spread over much of the southern part of Bungo Province and became a military power best represented, perhaps, by the warlord Ogata Koreyoshi (?–1191?). Koreyoshi was administrator (shōshi) of the Ogata estate, and because of the extensive presence of the Taira house in western Japan he had become a vassal (kenin) of Taira Shigemori. For reasons not presented here because they involve conjectures that

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would require extensive discussion, he suddenly turned against the Taira and, therefore, against the Usa sacerdotal house, which in any case had been extremely unhappy with him for several years because he had failed to deliver to the shrine-­ temple complex the fixed amounts of rice that the estate he administered was responsible for. The head sacerdotal officiant of Usa in 1183, Usa Kinmichi, was a powerful figure exemplifying the Japanese tendency to merge sacerdotal and political functions: named vice-­governor of Dazaifu in 1166, protector of Tsushima in 1175 as well as protector of Buzen Province in 1183, he was appointed grand sacerdotal head (daigūji) of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex seven times between 1144 and his death in 1193. He left a large cultural legacy: he probably supervised the artisan Ki no Shigenaga’s carving of the Lotus Sutra on bronze plates that were offered to Mount Hiko, must have been a dominant force behind the creation of the elegant Fukiji Temple in Kunisaki, and he sponsored many other projects that can still be seen today in the region.92 He was instrumental in configuring the character of the Bodhisattva Ninmon who came to be regarded as the founder of the Kunisaki Peninsula’s system of twenty-­eight temples, since he authored Ninmon Bosatsu Chōki, a text in which he described Ninmon as an incarnation of Hachiman. He also authored the 1168 list of Kunisaki temples mentioned in the first chapter, Rokugōzan Jiin Mokuroku. Retired Emperor Go-Shirakawa visited Usa some time between 1175 and 1177, and Kinmichi was held in high regard by Taira Kiyomori, who made a (second) grand appearance in Usa in 1183 and borrowed his sumptuous residence to lodge the infant emperor Antoku. It is around that time that Ogata Koreyoshi turned against the Taira and, encouraged by Fujiwara Yorisuke, demanded that they leave Kyushu. The Taira refused and entrenched themselves in Dazaifu, but they were defeated and withdrew their forces by way of the Inland Sea to Yashima in Shikoku. On the sixth day of the seventh month, 1184, Ogata Koreyoshi and his troupes marched to Usa and reduced its sprawling sites of cult to ashes. According to one source, Koreyoshi was then exiled to the Numata estate in eastern Japan, but was pardoned shortly thereafter. In Yashima, meanwhile, the Taira forces were attacked by the main Minamoto armies which, with the help of eighty-­two boats said to have been loaned by Ogata Koreyoshi himself, pushed them straight back across the Inland Sea to Nagato, where they finally defeated the Taira who took the infant emperor Antoku with them in a drowning death that has become the climax of many a literary and dramatic piece, in 1185. According to another source, Ogata Koreyoshi was not a hero for long: when Minamoto Yoritomo was pursuing his younger brother

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Yoshitsune, Koreyoshi was asked by Retired Emperor Go-Shirakawa to protect Yoshitsune, only to incur Yoritomo’s wrath and be exiled. Yoritomo then established his military government (kōgi) in Kamakura, and he appointed his vassals as stewards (jitō) and protectors (shugo) of many districts and provinces across the country. This was how a certain Ōtomo Yoshinao was appointed “protector” of Bungo Province as Kamakura gokenin (warlord loyal to the Minamoto kōgi), but the house he led engaged in a behavior reminiscent of Ogata Koreyoshi’s. Originally from Kansai, the Ōtomo warlord house, as it evolved in Kyushu, deeply affected the history of northern Kyushu in general and that of the Kunisaki Peninsula in particular. Its founder, Yoshinao (1172–1223), was appointed administrator of Kyushu (Chinzei bugyō) as well as protector of the Buzen and Bungo provinces in either 1196 or 1206; he is said to have been welcomed there by Ogata Koreyoshi himself, although sources are conflicting and unclear in this respect. Some historians say that it was not Yoshinao, but his adoptive father Nakahara Chikayoshi, who was named administrator of Kyushu and protector of Buzen and Bungo in 1196 or 99—and that it was he who transmitted his duties to his adopted son in 1206.93 Around the 1220s, Ōtomo Yoshinao began to usurp land estates from the temples and appropriated the abbacy (inzu) of several Kunisaki temples through his contacts with powerful land stewards. In this way members of the Furushō house, which will be discussed in a few moments, usurped the abbacy of temples in Kunisaki one by one; the Usa Shrine-­temple complex tried to resist such attempts by the warlords, but failed. Yoshinao fathered twelve sons and three daughters, and soon there arose problems concerning succession and, more specifically, concerning the right to bear the ōtomo name, that is, to head the house and lay claim to land estates that had been either commended, or bought, or acquired through warfare. In an attempt to solve this problem, the Ōtomo house followed a long-­established system of main house and sub-­branches, but it enacted a number of changes in the overall system. Traditionally, the main house was known as sōryōke, “heir house,” whose head—typically chosen among sons on the basis of their abilities, but possibly also among cousins or nephews—was allowed to bear the family name and manage the land “properties” of the entire house. Apparently, the first two generations of the Ōtomo main house lived in Kyoto rather than in Kyushu, and it is only at the time of the 1274 Mongol invasion that the Kamakura government demanded that its appointees reside in the provinces they were supposed to govern. As a result, the head of the third generation, Ōtomo Yoriyasu (1222–1300), moved to Kyushu and settled in what is today Ōita City.

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In contradistinction, the branches created by other sons and nephews were called “secondary houses” (shōke) and it had become customary for them to continue bearing the name of the house, but the Ōtomo house did away with the practice and forbade its secondary houses to bear the name, forced them to settle in Kyushu, and requested that some of them take the name of the estate they were granted when being let go of by the main house. This system of hereditary transmission had to be abandoned when the size of estates became too small for the practice to make any economic or social sense. Indeed, during the course of the first six generations of the main Ōtomo house eight secondary houses were created by the first generation, six by the second, three by the fourth, and one by the sixth generation. The first generation thus consisted of nine houses: the main house bearing the name Ōtomo and controlling (in absentia) the majority of the land, and eight secondary houses: Takuma, Tatewaki, Motoyoshi, Ichimanda, Takao, Shiga, Tanaka (Ono), and Tawara. Of these, three flourished over time and came to be known as the “Three Ōtomo Houses:” Takuma, Shiga, and Tawara. The “secondary houses” created by the second generation of the Ōtomo were the Betsuki (sometimes known as Hetsugi), Notsuhara, Hazama, Notsu (renamed Yoshioka during the Muromachi period), Kitsuki, and Tagita houses. The fourth generation had the Dewa and Nitta houses as offshoots, while the sixth generation produced only the Tachibana house. Finally, Yoshinao’s younger brother was regarded as the ancestor of two more secondary houses, the Furushō and Kodawara houses. It is this Furushō house that took control of the land estates of many Kunisaki temples, as a result of which the shrine-­temple system slipped into decadence. As can be gathered from the list of houses mentioned above, such a system of land distribution could not survive forever, and at the time of Ōtomo Sadamune (?–1333, the head of the sixth generation), those who in the past would have been allowed to start a new secondary house simply could not do so anymore, and were forced to either take the direction of the house of an elder brother who had no heir, or to be adopted by other families, or, for better or worse, to take the tonsure and pretend to renounce all worldly affairs. The economic fate of these “secondary houses” made them miserable and unstable; they attempted to rebel against the main house and the system, but were violently brought back to order, and the history of the Ōtomo house in Kyushu during the medieval period is one of inner strife and external hostilities. It is in these conditions that various branches of the Ōtomo house usurped titles to estates, forcibly took over their management, and settled as tonsured petty rulers in Kunisaki temples and other places. Their activities in the region spanned seven centuries, and are still remembered locally with a tangible dose of dismay mixed with forbearance.94

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It was in this increasingly turbulent context that the Kunisaki Peninsula’s practitioners amplified the already complex nature of their cultic life, only to see it crumble over time. Although the economic power of the temples gradually declined during the Kamakura period, the cults did not fall apart as easily. Since the cults were connected with the notion of ritual protection of the imperial system, the Kamakura government could neglect neither the Usa Hachiman complex, nor the Kunisaki temples, of course. In 1228, for example, the Kamakura government requested that the Kunisaki temples engage in rituals aimed at providing peace in the country. When a plague devastated livestock in Kyushu in 1264, the Kamakura government again requested that rites of pacification be conducted: eight hundred and thirty monks and yamabushi gathered at Mount Yayama (site of the Chōanji Temple), and performed rituals on the basis of the Daihannyakyō and Ninnōgyō sutras. This indicates that the Saiei-­zan massif had lost its power by that time, and that the Chōanji Temple had become the main cultic center of the Kunisaki Peninsula, a role it claimed for the following couple of hundred years. This is easily understood if one recalls that the Saiei-­zan temple was directly dependent on the Mirokuji Temple of Usa, which had been destroyed in 1184, whereas the Chōanji Temple was supported by its Togō estate—which eventually came to be managed by the Yoshihiro house, itself a branch of the Tawara house, that is, one of the Three Ōtomo houses mentioned a few moments ago.95 At the time of the Mongol invasions of 1274 and 1281 the Kunisaki temples engaged in many rituals of pacification aimed at causing the destruction of the invaders, and the Kunisaki Peninsula’s narratives claim that it was the rituals performed there that caused the kamikaze typhoon to destroy the Mongol fleets and save the country from disaster. This claim notwithstanding, the Rokugō conglomerate of temples and shrines soon lost its integrity: by 1284 only twelve of the twenty-­eight temples were active; what is more, several temples began shifting their affiliation from Tendai to the Kamakura period’s new schools of Buddhism, Jōdo-Shin in particular, and ritual performances greatly declined in number and scope. The same was true for Mount Hiko, where the decision to install an abbot of imperial birth in 1333 changed the course of things.

The geognostic realm of the lotus in Kunisaki The Kunisaki Peninsula’s inhabitants’ production of their spatialities differed from Mount Hiko’s and Usa’s for two major reasons. First, as we saw in the first chapter, the peninsula’s greater part consisted of estates belonging to the Usa

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Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, and was submitted to the combined influences of the Hachiman cult and of Tendai doctrines and practices for much of the Heian period, and its proximity to Mount Hiko was such that it could not escape the direct influence of Hiko Shugendō during the medieval period. Nor could it escape the influence of Kumano Shugendō and, of course, of its own neighboring Kubote, Hachimen, Hōman, and Seburi Shugendō centers. A second and equally important reason is that the peninsula was a self-­contained entity quite separate from the rest of Kyushu, and its geological features and unique topography led its inhabitants to imagine constructs and devise practices that are specific to it. In other words, the fundamentally spatial characteristic of Kunisaki’s cultic world cannot be appreciated separately from the inhabitants’ perception of their environment, or from their systematic elaboration of a culture of place that is intricately related to the region’s topography. The Kunisaki anchorites, it may be advanced, put it in the following manner: “salvation is not distinct from spatial and visual practice.” At some point the Kunisaki Peninsula’s stunning resemblance to an up-­turned dried lotus pod as well as to the ritual implement called vajra became clear to some mountain ascetics, who interpreted this resemblance in light of the symbolism that was associated with the Lotus Sutra and its commentaries, and who used it to create a system that was unique in Japan and as far as I know, unique to Japan. The Edo period’s Rokugō Kaizan Ninmon Daibosatsu Hongi, dated 1752, put it in such direct and simple manner that it is best to read it: The district of Kunisaki in the provinces of Buzen and Bungo consists of six counties [Rokugō]. There, the companions took the twenty-­eight chapters of the Lotus Sutra as a model in establishing twenty-­eight temples. Such was the origin of the foundation of the Twenty-Eight Temples of Rokugō. In accordance with the three sections of the sutra, the temples were divided into three groups: the head, the center, and the base. There are eight base temples, ten center temples, and ten head temples. (Altogether twenty-­eight temples.) The sub-­temples of these head temples number more than one hundred, and the total number of representations of the buddhas is based on the number of words in the Lotus Sutra: having conceived the wish to enshrine these 69,380 august representations in the sacred space of the twenty-­eight temples, ninety-­nine sacred caves, and more than one hundred sub-­temples, Hachiman and his three companions made their spirits as one and founded these temples one by one. When a day and a direction had been determined by divination, carpenters, stonemasons, stone-­ carvers, and painters joined them and created statues of the buddhas. Upon the cliffs Hachiman and his three companions portrayed the seed letters and the

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mantras. That is, they themselves carved the sacred statues of the Buddhas of the Two Mandalas and etched the graphic Siddham . symbols representing the buddhas. The light of the Buddha radiated fully at that time and like grass in the wind their will conformed to it.

This description is followed by the text of an oracle: I have come to you to reveal the course of the peregrination around the high peaks of Rokugō. In order to correctly perform the austerities in these mountains, you must envision them as a sacred space composed of three realms: Upper, Middle, and Lower. These realms, each with three subdivisions again, correspond to the Nine Realms of the Pure Land and to the Nine Sections of the Adamantine Mandala. The overall structure of the Rokugō mountains is that of a natural manifestation of the double three-­pronged vajra [ritual implement]. The ascetics who perform austerities in these mountains therefore penetrate the Adamantine Mandala. There are two courses for the peregrination, symbolizing the Adamantine Mandala and the Matrix Mandala. One course begins at the Cave on Mount Ushino and ends at Mount Yokogi. This course passes alongside the sea. In days past, this is where I practiced. The three districts in the east, Yasuki, Musashi, and Kisaki, represent the left part of the vajra. The three districts in the west, Yamako, Tashibu, and Kunawa, represent the right part of the vajra. Merging harmoniously, they form the six counties. You should await the coming of the Buddha of the Future in this place, ceaselessly chanting scriptures and absolutely prohibiting killing. Those monks who aspire to leave their footprints here should protect these mountains and perform austerities by making peregrinations to the various sacred sites. I am Hachiman, and my Buddhist name is Ninmon Daibosatsu. Tradition has it that Mount Rokugō represents the Nine Realms of the Pure Land. Its eight valleys are an eight-­petalled lotus blossom representing the Nine Sections of the Adamantine Mandala as well as the eight-­petalled lotus at the center of the Matrix Mandala. The purpose of building temples by dividing these eight valleys into twenty-­eight precincts is to represent the heart-­mind of the Wondrous Law of the Lotus Sutra, which consists of twenty-­eight chapters in two divisions, and furthermore to represent the Pure World of Dainichi Nyorai, whose symbol and image are the lotus blossom.96

It has been argued by the skeptic philosopher Michael Shermer that the fairly common propensity to find orderly images in a totally confusing set of figures (“to find meaningful patterns in meaningless noise”) might be called “patternicity” and has to be debunked as a lower form of imagination not worthy of rational thought.97 The association of the Kunisaki Peninsula’s topography with the shape

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of a lotus flower, a dried lotus pod, and a ritual implement, however, is a not a mere patternicity due to an overactive, esthetically bent imagination. It is due to a questioning perception of the natural world that was mediated by a sacred text such as the Lotus Sutra, and is the direct result of the esoteric proposition that any form hides a deeper meaning, what I have termed “geognosis.” According to Nakano Hatayoshi, each organizational division of the Rokugō conglomerate (upper, middle and lower) included one or several main temples, various sub-­temples, sub-­residences (matsubō), and various halls (dō) and hermitages (an). Each temple consisted of a compound where the temple (ji or in) was built, as well an external compound, sometimes fairly distant from the temple, where hermitages were erected. Each temple held one or several small estates, usually located in its vicinity; an administrative abbot (inzu) was responsible for the management of the main temple. Administrative or jurisdictional matters were solved in a hierarchical order, in which the Upper temples held the highest authority. These matters were controlled by monks who held the title of administrative officer (sōdōtatsu), a position that was held by the abbots of the Chionji, Hōkyōji, and Kokuzōji temples, themselves chosen among administrative officers of the Mirokuji Temple of Usa. The Kunisaki temples that had an abbot and/or an administrative officer were regarded as sub-­temples of the Mirokuji of Usa, and participation in the ritual performances of the Mirokuji Temple, such as the hōjō-­e rite of release of living beings, were mandatory for these administrative figures. A text kept in the Hie Shrine of Mount Nagaono indicates that a Sannō Shrine was established in Kunisaki as early as 819, which seems improbable. Another source indicates that this shrine was assigned an abbot in 1130, and it may well be that this date is when the shrine was erected. This abbot held an office called Dairiki-­bō, which came to be inherited by members of the Ki house, in which Gyōgyō, who had founded the Iwashimizu Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex in 859, was born. This fact shows that many members of the Ki house migrated to Kunisaki because of the close relationship between Usa’s Mirokuji and Kyoto’s Iwashimizu Shrine-­temple complex. It also suggests how the Kunisaki Peninsula’s institutions were becoming less dependent on the Mirokuji Temple of Usa, and how Mount Hiei was projecting its influence on the 28 temples and other sites of cult across the country.98 Dominant as it may have been a symbol of Buddhism at large, and of Tendai Buddhism in particular, the lotus blossom perhaps never saw as much success as in its application to topography in relation to cultic practices in Kunisaki. It is well known that the lotus blossom’s eight petals were associated with eight peaks surrounding Mount Kōya, the center of the Shingon school. Its sexual symbolism

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is also known; it ranged from the symbolism of the central court of the Matrix Realm mandala to the sexual symbolism which courses through Edo erotic literature and arts. Less widely known are the interpretations of which the entire lotus plant was the object in Chinese Buddhist circles, in which it was seen as the natural embodiment of the philosophy of emptiness, the core notion of all Buddhist schools of the Greater Vehicle. Simply put, this notion stipulates that, should one do away with passions by cutting off their roots in oneself, then the bud of awakening would never be able to rise through the mud and bloom in pure air and light. In other words, what was needed was a different way of relating to one’s passions and ignorance, a relation that was put forward in esoteric circles in the following way: “passions are, in and of themselves, awakening” (bonnō soku bodai). This notion had many foreseeable as well as unforeseen consequences, but it only added up to the mysticism surrounding this emblem. For example, the Katsuragi mountain range of the Kansai area came to be viewed by Shugendō practitioners in light of the Lotus Sutra’s twenty-­eight chapters, which were associated with twenty-­eight “caves” found along the range’s peaks. In each cave, it is said, an urn containing one of the chapters was buried. This relation between the Katsuragi mountain range and the Lotus Sutra is already mentioned in the early Kamakura period Shozan Engi. The same symbolism was responsible for the association of the twenty-­eight chapters of the Lotus Sutra with as many temples in the Kunisaki Peninsula.99 Kunisaki’s topography, however, is fundamentally different from that of the Katsuragi range, which extends along the course of the Ki River, from Tomo-­ga-shima Island (the first of the twenty-­ eight caves), and then on eastward to the Nara Basin, close to Gojō City. From this point on the range extends on the north-­south axis and ends near Yamato River, where the twenty-­eighth cave is located. As mentioned earlier, however, the Kunisaki peninsula is an almost completely circular entity, and its twenty-­eight temples are located, not in a single row, but in three adjacent zones: the Saieizan Massif, site of the eight oldest temples located in the Tahara horst, west of the peninsula; the second group of ten temples was etablished in the western part of the peninsula; and the last group of ten temples was established in the eastern part of the peninsula. Both cultic regions are deeply permeated by Tendai, although taimitsu esotericism is more prevalent in Kunisaki; and both regions have strong connections to Pure Land temples, although there is much more Shingon presence in the Katsuragi range. Katsuragi is the site of birth of En no Gyōja in the early seventh century; in the late Heian period Kunisaki came to be pervaded by En no Gyōja’s lore, and it is evident that everybody knew of the Katsuragi range and of the nature of that

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mountain’s cult. The same was true, of course, of Mount Hiko’s residents, as can be seen vividly in the 1572 Chinzei Hikosan Engi’s hagiographic account of En no Gyōja’s life.100 This, however, is where the similarities between Katsuragi and Kunisaki end. Indeed, there was a second three-­tiered organization, already mentioned but needing a repeat mention: the temples of the peninsula were held to correspond to the tripartite interpretative structure of the Lotus Sutra: “The Introduction,” “The Exposition,” and “The means of Dissemination;” the group of temples located in low regions by the sea were assimilated to the part called “dissemination;” the temples located in the valleys mid-­way to the summits were assimilated to the part called “exposition;” and the temples located near the summits of the peninsula were assimilated to the part of the Lotus Sutra called “introduction.” In other words, the mandalic structure of the peninsula was double: historical in the case of the east to west areas, and geotypical in this case of three-­tiered levels corresponding to different types of activities: asceticism at the top, scholarship at the middle, and proselytization at the bottom. It is also important to underscore the extraordinary claim that, on the paths linking these twenty-­eght temples, some 69,300 stone statues were placed, each stone standing for one graph in the Chinese text of the Lotus Sutra. As I have suggested elsewhere, walking was equivalent to reading, although in this case it might be better to say “reading into” or “reading off of.”101 Another characteristic of Kunisaki is the combination of the Hachiman cult with the cults dedicated to the Lotus Sutra, and this combination is symbolized by the cult to Ninmon bosatsu and by that dedicated to Tarō tendō and his two attendants, represented in statues that were carved in 1130 and placed in the Chōanji Temple. It is said that these statues were originally placed in the Shrine of the Six Avatars of the Chōanji Temple (each symbolizing one of the peninsula’s six administrative districts). This shrine epitomizes the Ninmon cult, for it is dedicated to Ninmon bosatsu, Jingū Kōgō, and the four deified children of “Emperor” Ōjin, and there were more than one hundred sponsors of the Tarō Tendō statue in the Chōanji Temple, including members of the Fujiwara, Usa, Kaminoge, Ki, Hata, Ōga, Sakai, and Abeno houses. It is probable that Tarō Tendō has a lot more connection to Hachiman than may appear at first sight. Most of the signatories were government officials of Dazaifu or members of the sacerdotal houses of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, thus indicating the Usa Shrine’s sacerdotal officiants’ devotion to mountain asceticism. A few years later (1141), a monk of the Iwashimizu Hachiman complex presented a copy of the Lotus Sutra engraved on copper plates; these copper plates too can be seen at the Chōan-­ji today. The following year, a monk of the Usa Hachiman complex also

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offered a copper plate engraved with a chapter of the Lotus Sutra at Mount Kubote (next to Mount Hiko); the names of several female lay devotees are among the signatories on the offering. The Chōanji Temple hosted Mount Hiko’s yamabushi during the Kamakura period, and it is therefore quite thinkable that it was these yamabushi who mapped mandalas and rituals onto the valleys and peaks of Kunisaki, as they had done on the ranges extending northward of Mount Hiko. It is also clear that Mount Hiko’s yamabushi were active on Mount Omoto, Usa Hachiman’s sacred mountain; indeed, the Compendium of Usa Hachiman Oracles, dated 1313, contains a drawing of Mount Omoto’s summit that shows temples and shrines near the three sacred stones of Mount Omoto. It is obvious that a major Shugendō “territorial line” extended at the time from Mount Hōman and Mount Fukuchi to Mount Hiko, and thence to Mounts Kubote and Hachimen and further east to Mount Omoto and to the temples of the Kunisaki Peninsula. If one takes into account the Taimitsu-­based Shugendō sites of cult of the Sefuri mountain range, which extends westwards across from Dazaifu, it becomes clear that Taimitsu Shugendō attempted to control from on high the quasi-­entirety of the northern part of Kyushu Island; that one of its roles during the medieval period was to protect from invasions from the Korean Peninsula; and that such control as there may have existed during the Heian and early medieval periods was related to the aristocracy that supported Taimitsu institutions in northern Kyushu. In other words, mandalization is a phenomenon that is difficult to think of separately from geopolitical considerations. It is in this light, indeed, that one might consider the medieval warlord houses’ efforts to either take over whatever power these Shugendō shrine-­temple complexes may have had, or to enlist their support. During the late medieval period the Kunisaki Peninsula was the object of destructions and economic collapses, not unlike many other mountain sites of cult around the country. As a result, much time passed without the performance of mandalized peregrinations, so that the exact course of these peregrinations that had been transmitted orally or had been performed by individuals rather than groups, was eventually forgotten or lost under the thick growth of bushes and trees. As the old twenty-­eight temple system lost its power, the Kamakura schools of Buddhism penetrated the peninsula, beginning with the Rinzai and Sōtō schools of Zen, and followed by the Jōdo and Jōdo Shin powerblock’s aggressive takeover of temples. Christianity spread during the second part of the sixteenth century, and the Heian and Kamakura’s periods’ spatialities, such as they may have been, began to disappear. By the Edo period, however, a renewed interest in

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local history as well as the development of travel encouraged many to engage in pilgrimages they thought would enable them to restore past practices. In 1607 the ninety-­year-old head of the Chōanji Temple in Kunisaki wrote a historical record, Rokugō Manzan Nendaiki, because he was afraid that nobody would remember the peninsula’s history. This document is far from being all-­inclusive but indicates the widespread destructions that took place over the course of the medieval period, and indicates that a number of temple and government authorities slowly started rebuilding. In 1620 the Chōanji Temple of Mount Yayama—which during the medieval period had been the administrative head of the system of twenty-­eight temples as well as a Shugendō powerhouse—was replaced by the Futagoji Temple, which played a major role in the peninsula thereafter. Familiar as they were with the 1228 document mentioned earlier, which said that “the neophytes of the Six Districts learned from the Bodhisattva Ninmon’s practices and engaged in peregrinations to more than one hundred caves,” various temple authorities began to rediscover these caves, and created a course of ritualized peregrination to be undertaken by the temples’ inhabitants. As a result, the Kunisaki Peninsula became a popular site of pilgrimage on the part of monks and lay people, and a pilgrimage course was finalized a few years later, in1749.102 Obviously, many of the sites that were visited then may coincide with those that marked the mandalized peregrinations of the medieval period, but it is also clear that the practice of pilgrimage by lay people was different from the professional practitioners’ own style, ritual activities, clothing, and austerities. In 1755 a document listed 183 sites located on what was probably very close to the peregrination route followed by yamabushi. Although a document of the Ōrekiji Temple mentions several individuals’ ritualized peregrinations (mineiri) in 1697, the first attempt to follow a course around the peninsula by an organized group of temple residents took place in 1701, and subsequently in 1706, 1749, 1759, 1779, 1799, 1817, 1837, and 1853—after which the peregrination was abandoned for slightly more than a century. At the beginning of the 1749 peregrination’s itinerary, about ten practitioners gathered near the Chionji Temple located in Kanae, Bungo Takada City. They then formed a procession and visited the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex, whereupon they scaled Mount Omoto, where they formulated their solemn vow to engage in the peregrination, in front of the three sacred megaliths; they then followed a course that took them through the three western districts (Kunawa, Tashibu, and Imi) and, subsequently, the three eastern districts (Kunisaki, Musashi, and Aki). Three weeks later, they completed their course at the Futagoji Temple, which is located at the center of

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the peninsula. Although their exact course is not known, forty-­nine sites are indicated in a variety of documents. It is probable, however, that their route was closely related to the document dated 1755, analyzed below.

Coursing through the peninsula The course that was followed in 1959—when the peregrination was resurrected in the post-World War II era—was based on the document entitled “Record of the 183 Sacred Sites of the Six Districts of Buzen and Bungo Provinces” (Buzen Bungo Rokugōzan Hyakuhachijūsansho Reijōki), compiled in 1755.103 This document was instrumental to the survival of Kunisaki culture and cultic life, and provides much information about the objects of cult at the time; it subsequently served as the basis for the text entitled “Traces Left by the Great Bodhisattva Ninmon In Buzen and Bungo Provinces: The One Hundred EightyThree Sacred Sites of the Rokugō Conglomerate,” a slightly revised version of the original list of the sacred sites of the Kunisaki Peninsula dated 1755.104 A copy of this document was made in 1912 by Aoyama Eidō, and another copy, the translation of which is on this book’s website, was made by Ichijōbō Kōshō in 1948. It is obvious that the first copyist made several additions to the original: he uses shrine categories such as kensha, sōsha, and gōsha, which were established by law in 1872 and were abolished in 1946. This alone suggests Eidō’s hand.105 The author establishes two groups of sites of worship: one of sixty-­two sites, and one of 121 sites. Among these, only twenty-­two Shinto shrines are mentioned; forty-­one sites, however, bear the name iwaya (cave). I assume that the number of Shinto shrines and that of the caves were added by the author to reach the number sixty-­two. The remaining cultic site names (ji or tera: seventy-­one sites; dō: thirty-­five sites; in: seventeen sites; and bō: two sites) seem to correspond to the author’s second category. By my reckoning, these numbers add to sixty-­three and 125 sites respectively, but some sites bear more than one name, which accounts for the discrepancy. It is reasonably clear that the author wished to make a distinction between full-­fledged Buddhist institutions (tera, dō, in, and bō), and shrines (various names), as well as caves (iwaya), but the reason he would have made these distinctions is not absolutely clear, even if one takes into account the presence or lack of caretakers—unless one fits the Meiji era’s cultural revolution into the equation. In the case of shrines one finds the following distinctions: five sites bear the name sonsha, “township shrine.” Five bear the name gū, “sanctuary,” but

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two of those are gōsha, “district shrines.” Seven shrine names are followed by the term daimyōjin, “great radiant kami,” but five of those are sonsha. Three shrines are kensha, “prefectural shrines;” and one shrine name is followed by the term myōjin, one step below daimyōjin. Finally, six sites bear the status name sha, “shrine.” In the case of Buddhist temples of which the sectarian affiliation is given, one notes that twenty-­three temples were affiliated with the Tendai sect, and that there were twenty-­two Zen temples (of these, only one is further identified as Sōtō, and one as Rinzai, but most must have been run by Sōtō monks). One temple was affiliated with Shingon, and one with Jōdo. The remaining sites of cult that are predominantly Buddhist in character did not have caretakers, and their affiliation is therefore not given. No Jōdo-Shin temple is mentioned, which may indicate that part of this document’s purpose was to reflect the opposition to that powerblock’s spread in the peninsula during the Edo period. This document, then, mentions the name and location of 183 sites in a given order, to which is added the distance between each site. It also mentions the identity of the main objects of cult, sometimes with very brief notes concerning these, and thus provides a direct insight into the cultic character of Kunisaki at the time: the dominant cult appears to have been dedicated to the Buddha of Medicine (Yakushi nyorai, thirty-­eight sites), and it is closely followed by cults to the Bodhisattva of compassion (Kannon bosatsu: thirty sites, but nineteen sites were dedicated to other configurations of Kannon). Among these, Senju Kannon bosatsu dominates with eleven sites, and this means that Kannon cults eventually outnumbered those dedicated to Yakushi nyorai, the original cult in the area. Equally important were those cults dedicated to the Buddha of the Western Pure Land (Amida nyorai, thirty sites), a sure sign of the spread of Pure Land devotion in the region. Other important cults were dedicated to Fudō myōō (thirteen sites), Jizō bosatsu (twelve sites), and Shakamuni nyorai (eleven sites). The rest is of local, though not negligible significance: Myōken bosatsu (three), Miroku bosatsu (three), Rokusho gongen (two), Bishamon ten (two), Batō Kannon bosatsu (two), Jūichimen Kannon bosatsu (two), Fugen bosatsu (two), Dainichi nyorai (two), Roku Kannon bosatsu (two), Tarō tendō (two), Monju bosatsu (one), Shō-Kannon bosatsu (one), Nyoirin Kannon bosatsu (one), Ganzan daishi (one), Gozu tennō (one), Kisshō Daishi (one), Nii-­sanmyō (one), Daiitoku myōō (one), Jūō (one), Atago gongen (one), Kōbō Daishi (one), Jingū Kōgō (one), Shichi Fukujin (one), Kokuzō bosatsu (one), Sanjūbutsu (one), and Shishi tendō (one). In other words, the Kunisaki Peninsula’s cults were diverse though interrelated, and stood as witnesses of northern Kyushu’s overall cultic trends over time.

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If one considers the development of pilrimage in Kunisaki during the early modern period as based on this document, and then notes that during the same period at least three etiological narratives were authored (the Rokugō Kaizan Ninmon Daibosatsu Hongi, the oldest extant copy of which is dated 1752;106 the Rokugōzan Ninmon Hongi dated 1711, of which only a copy dated 1800 remains; and the Rokugōzan Futagoji Daiengi written in 1817 by Takizawa Bakin107, then it becomes quite clear that the Kunisaki Peninsula’s cultic life during the Edo period was quite different from that of the preceding historical eras. The quasi-­peace enforced by the Tokugawa regime allowed pilgrimage, and therefore saw a nationwide development of many pilgrimage routes that, in the case of Kunisaki, signifies that lay visitors from the area and from distant regions far outnumbered local specialists. As a consequence, the spiritual character of the peninsula was fundamentally altered and came to reflect new understandings, and the mandalization of the entire peninsula began to waste away. Remarkably, though, many rites were performed on a regular cycle—probably because of the government’s emphases on local festivities and ritual calendars for burgeoning cities—and quite a few of these festive rites are still performed today, on the basis of oral transmissions that were written down for the first time in the second half of the twentieth century, and are listed in the national list of Intangible Cultural Properties.108

4

Shattered Bodies, Statues, and the Entreaties of Truncated Memory Mount Hiko’s quasi-­destruction and fall into irrelevance Mount Hiko’s complex community never fully escaped the social, economic, and political changes that occurred in the world below the mountain’s summits, sometimes to its advantage, but most of the time to its utter detriment. Over the course of the Edo period, as we have seen earlier, it had to develop strategies to survive the regulations of the Edo government, and at a great price succeeded in garnering autarchic status. However, as various Shintō movements and the Nativist Studies schools spread through the country at large, and as anti-Buddhist sentiment grew as a result of fiercely critical tracts and critiques on the part NeoConfucian individuals, there were calls for a higher status on the part of the kami-oriented members of the mountain community. Furthermore, as the yamabushi spent more and more time away from the mountain to cultivate their lay patrons, they became embroiled in trans-­regional politics, as a result of which deep and severe fault lines appeared and ripped the community apart, pitting supporters of the Kokura fief ’s pro-Tokugawa stance up against supporters of the return to power of the emperor and the overthrow of the Tokugawa government. This split is best understood within the context of western Japan’s economic and political conditions in the nineteenth century, when severe famines and over-­taxation took their toll. The most politically active fiefs during that time were Satsuma (southern Kyushu) and Chōshū (westernmost Honshu), whose powerful warlords and intellectuals resisted the orders from the Tokugawa government and insisted on the emperor’s return to power and the expulsion of foreigners (sonnō-­jōi). Some yamabushi of Mount Hiko who were busy cultivating lay patrons in the Chōshū fief (whose stronghold was the city of Hagi), embraced the cause and were eventually recruited to become part of that fief ’s army. Apparently due to a traitor, word of this development reached the

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Kokura authorities in 1863, and an army of about 500 soldiers armed with rifles pulled two large canons and lay siege to Mount Hiko, on the eleventh day of the eighth month of that year. Eventually, this army took the abbot and some twenty yamabushi prisoners and returned to Kokura, but not before confiscating their personal possessions and sealing their residences’ doors shut. The abbot was released soon thereafter and was allowed to return to Mount Hiko, which was then put under Kokura authorities administration. Between 1864 and 1866, most of the imprisoned yamabushi died of illness or were executed. Meanwhile, during the first month of 1866, the Satsuma and Chōshū fiefs formed a secret agreement to fight the Tokugawa government. They eventually prevailed in 1868, and many of these fiefs’ authorities went on to assist in the formation of the new imperial government in Tokyo, a government in which they played outstanding roles. The same government, however, issued in 1868 the imperial decree that prohibited further worship of combined Buddhas (and Bodhisattvas) and kami; as we shall see below, this decree dealt Mount Hiko’s “community” a severe blow from which it has yet to recover, some 140 years later. Late in 1868 it was proposed that the yamabushi who had died in prison in Kokura should be regarded as heroes loyal to the imperial cause, that they were “martyrs,” and that their spirits should be properly taken care of. This was accomplished in 1870, when tombstones were erected on the grounds that in the past had served to house the temporary Buddha halls built on the occasion of the Matsue ritual festivity. The grounds were renamed Shōkon Shrine, a torii gate was erected at their entrance, and memorial rites are still performed there today. The details of these events were then consigned in “Mount Hiko’s Righteous Monks,” a book published in late 1896.1 The events of the last five years of the Tokugawa government indicate that Mount Hiko’s institutions were in great danger of falling apart, and that there was discord in the community. The Kokura authorities in 1866 had prohibited fund-­raising travel on the part of the yamabushi, a decision that threw the “community” into almost instant poverty: Nagano Tadashi wrote that in 1710 Mount Hiko’s community consisted of 637 priestly residences and a permanent population of 3,015, and that on the eve of 1868 it consisted of only 252 residences, divided as follows: 144 sōgata residences (iroshi: 90, and katanashi, 54); 51 residences of gyōjagata, and 57 residences of shitogata. These 252 residences claimed a grand total of 346,209 patrons, divided as follows: 7,610 in Iki and Tsushima Islands; 82,579 in Hizen Province; 65,317 in Higo Province; 28,548 in Satsuma Province; 26,382 in Chikuzen Province; 37,387 in Chikugo Province; 26,246 in Buzen Province; 38,470 in Bungo Province; 28,370 in the

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provinces of Hyūga and Ōsumi; and 5,300 in the provinces of Suō and Nagato. One easily imagines the massive economic impact of the prohibition, and the further strain it put on social relations on the mountain. On the seventeenth day of the third month, 1868, the Meiji government decreed that, nationwide, all shrine-­monks (shasō) must return to lay status; eleven days later, the government decreed that all Buddhist ritual implements and statues must be removed from shrines; and on the nineteenth day of the fourth month, it decreed that all shrine sacerdotal officiants, including members of their families, must be buried according to Shintō funerary rites. These three decrees are together known as the dissociation of Buddhas and kami (shinbutsu-­bunri) and amounted to a nationwide reorganization (or, better put, manipulation) of countless local cults, not to mention an equally radical redistribution of wealth: the temples lost all lands they used to manage. Mount Hiko’s abbot left the Buddhist orders on the sixteenth day of the ninth month, 1868, and a mere three days later returned as the head of Mount Hiko, but as a shrine sacerdotal officiant: the temples were transformed into a single Shintō shrine. The term gongen that had long been used to refer to the combined Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and kami was discarded, and the peaks were to be conceived of exclusively as the residence of kami. Mount Hiko was then placed under authority of the Jingikan (Office of Kami of Heaven and Earth) in Tokyo. As in the rest of Japan these decrees were followed by tumultuous attacks on Buddhist temples and symbols; collectively known as “abolish the Buddhas and do away with [the Buddha] Śākyamuni” (haibutsu kishaku), these riots resulted in the destruction of perhaps as many as sixty per cent of Japan’s Buddhist temples. At Mount Hiko, about 120 young inhabitants dubbing themselves “Kami Soldiers” (shinpei) organized on the basis of a code of conduct they swore to uphold on January 6, 1869; the first line of this code reads: “We will cleanse old habits and [ensure that everyone] revere the emperor and the Kami of Heaven and Earth.” At the end of the same day they began destroying Buddhist emblems and structures on the mountain. In the process of their “cleansing” they murdered mothers of monks, ordered all temples to slam their gates shut, destroyed the majority of buildings of Mount Hiko, and left only a few structures that were subsequently transformed into Shinto shrines; they also removed and destroyed Buddhist statues and ritual implements. In 1872 the Tokyo government issued a decree abolishing Shugendō. Soon thereafter the main rites of the mountain “community” were abandoned and the majority of the yamabushi left Mount Hiko, either to become members of the emerging modern Japanese society, or to start small-­scale new religious groups

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focusing on healing. One hundred and eleven residences were abandoned over a mere ten years. Some yamabushi remained on and near the mountain and engaged in their practices in secret; apparently, they were encouraged by the fact that the new Shintō master officiant did not favor complete destruction of the site of cult. Indeed, this officiant’s adopted son even acted to quell the activities of the shinpei in 1873. Interestingly enough, the lay believers of the surrounding areas did not reject their beliefs in the same abrupt manner, for they continued to provide some economic support for the performance of “Shintōfied” peregrinations and of the main ritual festivity—from which all Buddhist elements were stripped away. It is known, for example, that the Shōen-­bō temple-­residence gave lodging to sixty-­nine pilgrims in 1866, to 232 pilgrims in 1870, and to 213 pilgrims in 1871. Furthermore, a number of lay patrons received permission to take care of various Buddhist statues and give them a proper cult in their own homes, thus precluding the disappearance of longstanding objects of cult and enhancing the potential for later material manifestation of ideological resistance. Finally, it is known that some of the new Shinto officiants of Mount Hiko placed screens and other devices in front of objects of cult, thus removing them from direct sight and protecting them from what would have been assured destruction. The stunning three-­dimensional model of the mountain was hidden under a roof; it was discovered a few years ago and is now on view at the Hiko Shugendō Museum. In 1874, however, the destruction started anew, following the appointment of an official of the Kokura fief to the position of head Shinto officiant, who declared that the order to destroy the Buddhas had come from the very top of the nation and therefore could not be defied. Whatever bells, statues, paintings and documents remained in plain sight on Mount Hiko were gathered and smashed to pieces. An order was subsequently issued to garner all of the objects of cult that were placed in the caves and lodges adorning the various courses of peregrination. Most were smitten to bits; large boulders that bore engravings of Buddhist deities were toppled, face down. Several such boulders have been discovered recently and have been restored to their erstwhile positions by archaeological missions. In 1985, only 109 houses and a population of 328 were recorded in the local census of Mount Hiko; two years later, sixteen priestly residences, ninety-­nine lay houses, and a total population of 385 people were recorded in another census. Tourism has taken over, a toilet and drink-­vending machine have been installed at the top of the mountain, and a funicular goes from the base of the mountain up to the stone torii and main shrine office. Nobody mentions the Lotus Sutra.

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Kunisaki: one breath away from the void of modernity Before the Dawn (Yoakemae) is the title of Shimazaki Tōson’s famous historical novel which describes the tumultuous events surrounding the 1868 Meiji “Restoration.”2 The moments before dawn are the darkest and stand as a symbol of the fall of the Tokugawa government and the instoration of the Meiji period, during which an “enlightened rule” (Meiji) was to dispel the obscurity of the past and “restore” native culture and thereby bring civilization to its apex. Exactly one century before Tōson’s writing, the author Takizawa Bakin received multiple and serious requests on the part of Gōen, abbot of the Futagoji Temple, and, even though he was turning blind, he dictated in 1831 the most recent etiological record of that temple, which by then had become the head of the Conglomerate of mountain temples of the Kunisaki Peninsula. It is well worth reading this document, for it evidences one of the fundamental traits of etiological records: a conservative outlook by and large blind to historical reality. Indeed, while listing oft-­repeated statements concerning the origins of the Kunisaki temples as well as a generally accepted view of the Hachiman cult, this document makes a strong case for the equality of Shinto and Buddhism—which flies in the face of the then dominant trends that eventually led, fifty-­seven years later, to the separation of Buddhist cults from Shinto deities, and vice-­versa. As mentioned earlier, the earliest instance of the “enlightened” rule established in 1868 took the form of the imperial edict that abolished all associations and combinations between “native” kami and “foreign” Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, but many people who witnessed the ensuing destructions of temples and their contents, the massive return of priests and monks to lay life, and the extraordinary damage done to Buddhism, did not revel in the ecstasy of the light in question, for they faced the sudden disappearance of their culture and did not care much for the “rationalization” of cultic sites and beliefs imposed by the state. Hachiman, the oldest and perhaps most famous combinatory deity, was instantly reconstructed as a native kami put to the service of Japan’s nascent, modern nationalism. It is in light of retrospective consciousness, then, that one might wish to read Bakin’s record: it is obvious that he is respectful of Kunisaki culture as it was presented to him by the abbot, but that he also had a certain consciousness of history, for he injected here and there his own views in order to correct the record. Bakin was ill at the time, and, sadly, he may not have had the time or energy to use the same critical acumen throughout the document.3

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A fairly extensive investigation of temples and their “Cultural Properties” (the contemporary euphemism for objects of art predating 1868) of Usa City and the Kunisaki Peninsula was conducted between 1987 and 1990 by the Historical and Ethnographic Museum of Usa, and its results were published in 1990.4 This publication describes some 4,000 artifacts, identifies statues, paintings, various records, and ritual implements that are deemed of historical significance because they survived the Meiji destructions; it also mentions manufacturing techniques, dates when they are known, height, and any relevant information whenever it is available. More than half of this volume is dedicated to the Kunisaki Peninsula, which clearly shows the importance and complexity of the region: it covers 350 of the 450 Buddhist temples that are located in the entirety of the peninsula and Usa City today. The investigation is far from exhaustive, however, because time and money ran out before all surviving temples could be researched, and only one Shinto shrine is mentioned. The 175 photographs at the end of the book offer a direct insight concerning the quality of these artifacts, and one gathers from this publication the impression that the area’s cultural legacy is remarkably rich. Such an impression is misleading, however, for the Kunisaki Peninsula was devastated during the Meiji cultural revolution. To take an example, in the peninsula’s Hayami district alone, 19 per cent of all Buddhist temples disappeared between 1868 and 1908, and the priestly population of these temples fell 61 per cent during the same time. There is no way to calculate the amount of destruction that took place. Today, one can see Kunisaki stupas in museums in the United States, and perhaps also some statues that were sold for almost nothing at the time: much has been displaced, and nothing has been replaced. This unmitigated disaster still has ripple effects, in the sense that not enough is done to continue to protect whatever has survived; should one visit the peninsula today, it is imperative to “visit” a cave-­temple, the Oku-­no-in of the Tenpukuji Temple, hard to reach but impressive: it is filled with burned, scorched statues of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. The book mentioned above states that the investigation was undertaken because of the “severity of the general lack of care on the part of private and governmental agencies.” This means that cultural preservation, in whatever form it can take, is viewed as an economic proposition before it is considered a cultural right or a duty to transform the past into something else than a dusty residue or an object for sale. Nonetheless, many residents of the Kunisaki Peninsula are still profoundly attached to the space of their existence. The peregrination was restored in 1959; local rites and festivities, however changed they may be, abound in shrines and temples, and tourism has become an important industry.

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I had occasion to join the peregrination and for its duration had ample opportunity to observe its members and their activities, and to build a close rapport with some of them. For the first time in modern history these members included youths (the youngest one, the son of the headpriest of the Monjusenji Temple, was eleven), and women (one of them the granddaughter of the head of the Futagoji Temple). On the first day we scaled Mount Omoto, where the participants observed a Shinto rite prior to chanting sutras in front of the three sacred stones. Upon sharing rice brew (miki) that was offered by a Shinto officiant who joined the peregrination for two days, the group descended to Usa and chanted the Heart Sutra in front of the Hachiman Shrines. The next day the group of practitioners began the grueling peregrination (an average of thirty or more kilometers a day), which became a media event: Ōita Broadcasting sent a team of television cameramen and interviewers, who trekked through rain and mud, climbed the mountains, chased the group through the valleys, and produced an hour-­long documentary that focused on the challenges met by the young boy of the Monjusenji Temple, against a background of New Age religious music. The participants, however, were serious in their purpose, and were dressed in the traditional gear of Kunisaki anchorites, best described by Ōdake Junkō:5 Ritual garments [hō-­e]: a pure solid white robe tailored from nine pieces, without mon [emblem of temple identity]. A cord is passed through the end of the sleeves, to truss the sleeves up on the shoulders in order to facilitate movement; the color of this cord is red for the daisendatsu (leader of the group), purple for the daiokke (second in command and last in the group), and white for all others. Under this outer white garment, a solid white hakama is worn.6 The hakama displays six pleats in the front and two in the back. Near the lower openings, a cord is passed through to tie the leggings. The nine pieces of cloth of the outer garment symbolize the nine realms of the Adamantine Realm Mandala, while the eight pleats of the hakama symbolize the eight lotus leaves of the Matrix Realm Mandala’s central court. Head gear [tokin]: here it is called either “dharma crown” [hōkan] or “practitioner’s hood” [gyōja tokin].7 Originally all practitioners wore the same, but in contemporary peregrinations the daisendatsu is set apart and is the only one to wear this traditional hood. Like Dainichi nyorai’s hairdo,8 it rises high atop the head and is held together by a headband about five centimeters wide, which is twisted around the head and then tied like the knot on a helmet. The two ends of the headband then hang over both sides of the forehead, droop down over both cheeks, and fall over the chest. This head gear thus resembles what one sees on Bodhisattva paintings or statues, but the term “crown” is used because it refers to

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the iconography of the “crown of the five sapiences” worn by Dainichi nyorai, and it symbolizes the compassion which Fudō myōō uses to convert living beings. The other practitioners wear a white hood, with an overhead that is pleated in imitation of the eight leaves of a lotus blossom. In the peregrination of the spring of 1959, the daisendatsu wore a ritual head gear that is normally used by the practitioners of the peregrination taking place at Mount Hiei [kaihōgyō]. Swords [riken]: corresponding to the saitō worn by yamabushi, these swords stand for those used by Fudō myōō to subjugate demons. One long and one short wooden swords, lacquered but without sheath, are worn on the waist. Beyond these, the daisendatsu carries his own “real” sword [magatana or goma gatana], which he uses during the fire ritual [saitō goma] to release packets of wood sticks [nyūmoku], which he throws onto the fire to feed it. The two swords were probably real ones (of metal) originally, but wooden swords were used at the time of the peregrination of Ka’ei 6 [1853]. Sword carrying is probably a distinctive feature of the Rokugō Conglomerate. Staff:9 an ornament set at the top of a long stick, it is used at the time of sutra chanting, or to give signals and maintain rhythm. It is also used for exorcism and is therefore treated as an important ritual implement. Bag [zudabukuro]: ordinarily, two bags are carried (one on each side of the waist). One holds paraphernalia such as a brush and ink stone, ritual implements and sutras, while the other is used to store food and other daily necessities. Other items include rosaries, conch shells, and cypress fans. Straw sandals are sometimes worn, as well as a garment called Peony Blossom.10 These paraphernalia symbolize the belief in “non-­twoness” (that of Fudō myōō and the practitioners); in comparison to the sixteen implements carried by yamabushi, they are both few and light, and are devised to allow optimal performance on the mountains.

The author does not mention the straw sandals, held in place by a rope passing through eight eyelets symbolizing, again, the lotus blossom. At the end of the peregrination some practitioners offer theirs to lay participants. In many places in Japan one can see the same type of footwear displayed prominently at the gates of temples. The leader of the peregrination in 1989 was the abbot of the Chōanji Temple. Although he opined that this would be the last peregrination, two more took place since, the last one in 2012, which suggests that more may follow and that the Kunisaki Peninsula’s spatialities are not yet fully erased, in that they have not yet run out of time.11

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Usa: Hachiman’s return in disguise Badly destroyed as Mount Hiko and the Kunisaki Peninsula may have been in the late nineteenth century, they cannot compare to the utter devastation the Usa Hachiman Shrine-­temple complex was subjected to. Medieval drawings indicate the vast size of the Mirokuji Temple located next to the Hachiman Shrine, and a recently constructed model of the entire site of cult (visible at the Ethnographic Museum of Usa) shows the stunning amplitude and scope of the temples that crowded the vast expanse located at the foot of Ogura Hill. Of course, the shrines atop Ogura Hill were not touched in 1868. In the case of the Buddhist temples, however, putting it bluntly and briefly may be the best way: none of these pagodas, temples, halls, belfries, refectories, libraries, and residences crowding the plain at the foot of the shrines—none—remains. The erstwhile grounds of the Mirokuji Temple are now filled with parks, ponds, a baseball diamond, the

Map 14  2010 Mineiri of the Kunisaki Peninsula

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museum, and the sprawling offices of the Usa Hachiman Shrine. The erstwhile presence of the Buddha of the Future (Miroku) is completely obliterated. In 1868 the Great Bodhisattva Hachiman, as it was known for more than 1,000 years, was transformed overnight into a kami that was put to the service of ultra-­nationalism, the epitome of which was the use of the medieval term kamikaze to refer to the youthful pilots who directed their planes onto US Navy ships at the end of World War II, in a desperate echo of the typhoon that thwarted the thirteenth century Mongol invasions of the territory. One of these Zero fighter planes (many of which were built in Saeki, just south of Ōita) can be seen today on the grounds of the Nada Hachiman Shrine located on the southeast corner of the Kunisaki Peninsula; the sign placed long ago over the main gate of this shrine reads, “Destroy the Three Kingdoms” (sankan seibatsu), that is, Korea. And as in the myriad Hachiman shrines located all over the country, doves and pigeons flutter around and coo peacefully.12 It is instructive, however, that the Kunisaki peregrination starts at the Usa Hachiman Shrine: temple priests and shrine officiants stand side by side, sutras and mantras are chanted within the inner compounds of the main shrine, and all share miki cups in front of the three sacred stones at the summit of Mount Omoto. Indeed, none of the participants with whom I spoke with at the end of days of arduous walk found anything strange or surprising about that; the contrary was true. But the Great Bodhisattva represented for centuries as an entity dressed in monk robes has evaporated: it is today an invisible kami, period.

Afterword: From Spatialities to Dislocation A great amount of work remains to be accomplished before anyone can claim a proper understanding of the intertwined history and geography of the areas I have just written a few words about. The cultic sites of Mount Hiko, Usa Hachiman, and the Kunisaki Peninsula have been disrupted and dislocated many times; they seem today out of place and as though drowning under the contemporary calls for state-­sponsored material uses (the mantra of so-­called “public works” one hears almost every day, and the renewed military thirst). In writing this, I do not wish to sound like those who claim that nostalgia is not what it used to be, but merely hope to strike a word of caution concerning abstract categories often used in the study of the immensely rich world of Japan’s cultic/cultural systems; these categories do not help reveal past practices or understandings, in that they often ignore historical breaks and merely hint at modern classificatory schemes that do not take space or place into deep-­enough consideration, and therefore cannot bring to light some material conditions of (and for) being; nor do they account for the new place that has been given to cultic practices and history in the twentieth century. In my view, many of the disruptions suffered by these sites of cult were spatial (territorial) in character: it is clear that the entire country’s space and history schoolbooks have been taken prisoners by the cold hands of the modern nation-­state, and that new places have been assigned to everybody. As for the temporal character, well, time will tell. It must be noted, however, that the Meiji period caused major “disconnects” between the traditional lunisolar year dates for rituals and the Gregorian calendar adopted in early 1873. To give but a few examples of a massive set of temporal glitches, the New Year is officially on January 1, but the lunar date varies each year; some shrines and temples observe their rites on either, or both, calendars’ dates. Another important rite is the Tanabata observed all over Japan, but most famous in Sendai: it should occur on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, but now it is observed on July 7: this discrepancy voids the main reason for the lunar date, on which the constellations of the Weaver and Herdsman, separated all year by the Milky Way,

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meet to consume their love for each other. On July 7, their actual position in the sky is completely different. These two brief examples typify the non-­sequiturs found almost everywhere today, seemingly echoing Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities in his chapter on Perinthia. In these cases, time does not tell the proper story anymore: time too has been dislocated and impoverished.

Rays of light In 1882 the government relented in its aggressive condemnation of Shugendō and allowed yamabushi to perform some ritualized peregrinations, but damage had already changed practices and outlooks. Both Shingon-­related and Tendai-­ related Shugendō surviving groups slowly re-­organized; indeed, the government had forced the yamabushi to belong to either the Tendai or the Shingon sect, and placed them at the lowest possible, humiliating rank. This treatment eventually led to resentment and resistance, and the yamabushi began to perform their main rituals as they had in the past. The leaders of Shingon yamabushi based at the Sanbō-­in temple in Kyoto re-­organized during the first years of the new century and in 1909 started the publication of a magazine called “Jinben”, in which calls for organization as well as scholarly articles on Shugendō were published. The three volumes of the Shugendō Shōso remarkable doctrinal and practice-­oriented documents were published from 1916 to 1919. It is also necessary to underscore an important theater event of 1917: Tsubouchi Shōyō, one of the great literary figures of the Meiji period, and the translator of Shakespeare, wrote a play that was immediately performed as a grand piece of the emerging “Shingeki” (New Theater) movement: the name of the play is En no Gyōja. It was such a success that it was translated into French to be performed in Paris in 1920, but this did not happen for a reason I do not know, and I never was able to put my hands on that translation, said to be the first foreign translation of a Japanese play in any Western language.1 It is an enticing play based on the life of En no Gyōja, the putative founder of Shugendō, his relationship to his mother, and his resistance to the sexual entreaties of a bewitching maiden, and the play ends in a cataclysm. It was even the object of an opera of the same name, composed by Kan Ishii in 1965. Tsubouchi also wrote an etiological record of the life of En no Gyōja, so he was obviously fascinated by Shugendō. His legacy is kept alive in many universities around the globe and by the eponymous Museum of Theater located at Waseda University in Tokyo, where he taught.

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The Tendai-­based yamabushi, for their part, started publication of their own magazine, “Shugen,” in 1923. It is not before 1946, however, that the Tendai-­based yamabushi groups splintered from the Tendai sect and formed an independent school called Shugenshū. As one may suspect, the wars with Russia, China, Southeast Asia, the Pacific, and the United States left little or no room for peregrinations for about four decades, and Shugendō suffered even more. It re-­ emerged in the 1950s and 1960s, and is now quite popular. There is a trendy movement to use Shugendō in “Anime” and “Manga,” but it is superficial when compared to the vast amount of solid scholarship Japan has produced, although it may provide a solid thirst for knowledge on the part of fans around the world. It is imperative that the works of Akyūbō Sokuden be translated and analysed, that GPS-based three-­dimensional maps be accomplished for all Shugendō sites, so that a much clearer picture of this remarkable cultural and cultic phenomenon may emerge. Japanese scholars of great distinction have amassed countless documents and artifacts and superb studies, and this may make the effort a lot more attractive and deeply satisfying.

Japanese Glossary A Akame 赤目 Akimoto, Kichirō 秋本吉郎 Akyūbō Sokuden 阿吸房即伝 Amibetsu 網別 Amida Nyorai 阿弥陀如来 ango 安居 Anna 安和 Anrakuji 安楽寺 Aoki, Kazuo 青木和夫 aramitama 荒魂 Asuka 飛鳥 B Batō Kannon 馬頭観音 Bungo Takada 豊後高田 C Chūai 仲哀 Chūyūki 忠右記 chinju 鎮守 Chinzei Hikosan engi 鎮西彦山縁起 Chionji 智恩寺 chō 町 chō 丁 chō 調 Chōanji 長安寺 Chōgen 重源 D Daianji 大安寺 daijizaiten 大自在天 Dazaifu 太宰府 Dengyō Daishi 伝教大師 Denjōji 伝乗寺 Dewa 出羽

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Japanese Glossary

Dōkyō 道鏡 Dōshō 道昭 E Egami, Namio 江上波夫 En no Gyōja 役の行者 Endō, Yoshimoto 遠藤嘉基 engi 縁起 Engi shiki 延喜式 Enmyō Kannon Bosatsu 延命観音菩薩 Enryakuji 延暦寺 F Fudoki 風土記 Fugen bosatsu 普賢菩薩 Fujio 藤尾 Fujita, Seiichi 藤田晴一 Fujiwara 藤原 Fujiwara no Fuhito 藤原不比等 Fujiwara no Fuyutsugu 藤原冬嗣 Fujiwara no Hirotsugu 藤原広嗣 Fujiwara no Katsunushi 藤原勝主 Fujiwara no Mototsune 藤原基経 Fujiwara no Muchimaro 藤原武智麻呂 Fujiwara no Munetada 藤原宗忠 Fujiwara no Nagafusa 藤原長房 Fujiwara no Nakamaro 藤原仲麻呂 Fujiwara no Umakai 藤原宇合 Fujiwara no Yoshifusa 藤原良房 fuko 封戸 Fukuchisan 福智山 funyūken 不入権 Furuta, Takehiko 古田武彦 Futagoji 両子寺 fuyusoden 不輸租田 G Gassan 月山 gegū 外宮 gekyō 外京 Genbō 玄昉 Gikai 義海

Japanese Glossary Gokoku Reigen Iriki Jinzū Daibosatsu 護国霊験威力神通大菩薩 Gokoku Reigen Iriki Jinzū Daijizai-ō-Bosatsu 護国霊験威力神通大自在王菩薩 Gokokuji 護国寺 Gorai, Shigeru 五来重 goshōzoku 御装束 Gyōgyō 行教 Gyōki 行基 gyōkōe 行幸会 Gyōnyūji 行入寺 Gyōshū 行秀 H Hachiman Daibosatsu 八幡大菩薩 Hachiman 八幡 Hachiman Usagū goshinryō ōkagami 八幡宇佐宮御神領大鏡 Hachiman Usagū gotakusenshū 八幡宇佐宮御託宣集 Hachimenzan 八面山 Hagiwara, Tatsuo 萩原龍夫 Haguro 羽黒 Hayabusawake 隼総別 Hayato 隼人 Heijōkyō 平城京 hen 変 Hiashi 日足 Hie 日吉 Hieizan 比叡山 Hikosan 英彦山 Hikosan 彦山 Hikosanki 彦山記 Hime Jingūji 比売神宮寺 Himegami 比売神 Himekoso jinja 姫来語神社 Himekoso jinja 姫来曽神社 Himeshima 姫島 Hinode 日出 Hirano, Kunio 平野邦夫 Hōjō 北条 hōjōe 放生会 Hokke 北家 Hokke-hō 法華法 Hokke mandara 法華曼荼羅 Hōkyōji 法鏡寺

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Japanese Glossary

Hōmanzan 宝満山 Hōmeiji 宝命寺 Homuda-­wake no mikoto 誉田別尊 Honchōseiki 本朝世紀 Honshōbō 本松房 Hōonji 報恩寺 Hōren 法蓮 Hōryūji 法隆寺 Hoshino, Riichirō 星野理一郎 Hossō 法相 Hyūga no Omi 日向臣 [= Soga no Himuka 蘇我日向] I iden 位田 Iida, Hisao 飯田久雄 Imi 伊美 Imi Betsugū Hachiman 伊美別宮八幡 Inaoka, Kōji 稲岡耕二 Inari 稲荷 Ise 伊勢 Ishigaki 石垣 Itōzu 倒津 Iwashimizu 石清水 Iwatoji 岩戸寺 Izumo 出雲 J jūgōsankashō 十郷三箇荘 Jinmu 神武 jinpō 神宝 jingū 神宮 Jingū Kōgō 神宮皇后 jingūji 神宮寺 Jingoji 神護寺 jinin 神人 Jintai 神台 Jin’un 神吽 jisha 寺社 Jōbutsuji 成仏寺 Jōen 清円 Jōgan gishiki 貞観儀式 jōri 条理

Japanese Glossary Jōwa no hen 承和の変 Junnin 淳仁 jushoku kanjō 受職潅頂 K Kagawa, Mitsuo 賀川光夫　 Kaguraoka 神楽岡 Kaifu 海部 kaizan 開山 Kakachi 香々地 kanbe 神戸 [also: jinko] kami 神 Kamo 加茂 Kamogawa 鴨川 Kanzeon 観世音 [Kannon] bosatsu Kanzeonji 観世音寺 kanzukasa 主神 Karashima 辛島 Karashima no Suguri Otome 辛島勝乙目 Kashii 香椎 Kashiwara 橿原 Kasuga 春日 Kasuga, Kazuo 春日和男 Katsuragawa 桂川 Kawara 香春 Kūkai 空海 kekkai 結界 kengyō 検校 Kenkei 賢憬 Ki 紀 Ki no Shigenaga 紀重永 kiba minzoku 騎馬民族 Kibe 岐部 Kibi no Makibi 吉備真備 Kishima, Jinkyū 木島甚久 Kizugawa 木津川 Kobae 小葉枝 Kōbō Daishi 弘法大師 kōdō 講堂 Kōfukuji 興福寺 kofun 古墳 Kojiki 古事記

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Japanese Glossary

Kōken 孝謙 kokke 国家 [also: kokka] kokubunji 国分寺 kokubunniji 国分尼寺 Kokura 小倉 Kokuzōji 虚空蔵寺 Kōmyō 光明皇后 kondō 金堂 Kongōbuji 金剛峰寺 Kongōji 金剛寺 kongōsho 金剛杵 Kōnin kampu 弘仁官符 Konkōmyōsaishōōkyō 金光明最勝王経 Korehito 惟仁 kōshi 講師 Koya 小家 Kōyasan 高野山 Kubo, Noritada 窪徳忠 Kubotesan 求菩提山 Kudara-O Yoshitomi 百済王敬福 Kūkai 空海 Kumano 熊野 Kumaso 熊曽 kuni no miyatsuko 国造 Kuni no miyatsuko hongi 国造本紀 kuniguni sanzai tsunemi myōden 国々散在常見名田 Kunisaki 国東 Kuroda, Toshio 黒田俊雄 Kusachi 草地 Kyūzenji 久全寺 Kyōōgokokuji 教王護国寺 M Magarikane 勾金 Maki 馬城 makomo 真薦 makura 枕 Mangan 万巻 Mano, Kazuo 真野和夫 mappō 末法 Matama 真玉 Meta 米多

Japanese Glossary Metori 雌鳥 Michiwakidera 道脇寺 Mikasayama 三笠山 mikoshi 御輿 Minami-Hokkeji 南法華寺 Minamoto no Yoritomo 源頼朝 Minamoto no Yoshitsuna 源義綱 Miroku bosatsu 弥勒菩薩 Mirokuji 弥勒寺 Mirokuzen’in 弥勒禅院 Misaki, Ryōshū 三崎良周 mishirushi 御験 miya 宮 Miyako 京都 Miyamoto, Kesao 宮本袈裟雄 Miyasaka, Yūshō 宮坂宥勝 Miyata, Noboru 宮田登 Mizukami, Satsuma 水上薩摩 Mizunoo 水尾 Monju bosatsu 文殊菩薩 Monjusenji 文殊仙寺 Mononobe 物部 Mononobe no Moriya 物部守屋 Montoku 文徳 Moribe 守部 motomishō jūhakkasho 本御荘十八箇所 Motoyama 本山 Mudōji 無動寺 Munakata 宗像 Munakata 宗像 Murakami, Shigeyoshi 村上重良 N Nagano, Tadashi 長野正 Nagatomi, Hisae 永留久恵 Naka no Ōe 中大兄 Nakano, Hatayoshi 中野幡能 Nakatomi 中臣 Nakatomi no Kamatari 中臣鎌足 Nakatomi no Katsumi 中臣勝海 Nakatsu 中津 Nakatsuoji 中津尾寺

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Japanese Glossary

Nakayama 中山 Naniwa 難波 Nantaizan 男体山 negi 禰宜 nigimitama 和魂 Nihon ryōiki 日本霊異記 Nihongi 日本紀 Nihon Shoki 日本書紀 Niiaki 新開 Nijūhachihonzan mokuroku 二十八本山目録 Nikkō 日光 Ninmon Bosatsu chōki 仁聞菩薩朝記 Ninmon Daibosatsu 仁聞大菩薩 Nishibiyū, Motohi 西別府元日 Nishimoto, Yutaka 西本泰 Nishitakatsuji, Nobusada 西高辻信貞 Nōgyō 能行 Nuki 貫 O Ōbae 大葉枝 ōbō-buppō 王法仏法 Ōga 大神 Ōga no Higi 大神比義 Ōga no Kiyomaro gejō 大神清麻呂解状 Ōga no Umaro 大神薀麻呂 Ogawa 小河 Oguranoike haiji 小倉池廃寺 Ogurayama 小椋山 Oidono 御炊殿 Ōita 大分 Ōjin 応神 Okinaga 息長 Okinaga Tarashi-­hime-no-­mikoto 息長帯比売命 Okinoshima 沖ノ島 Ōmachi 大町 Omi 御深 Ōmiwa 大神 Ōmiwa 大三輪 Omotosan 御許山 Ōnakatomi 大中臣 Onizuka kofun 鬼塚古墳

Japanese Glossary Onjōji 園城寺 onmyōdō 陰陽道 Ono no Azumando 大野東人 onryō 怨霊 Ōrekiji 応暦寺 Ōsasagi no mikoto 大鶺領命 Ōsumi 大隅 Otokoyama 男山 Otokunidera 乙国寺 Oyamadasha 小山田社 Ōyanagi 大楊 R Reikiji 霊亀寺 Reisenji 霊仙寺 reizan 霊山 Rikuoku 陸奥 ritsuryō seido 律令制度 Roku Kannon Bosatsu 六観音菩薩 Rokugō manzan 六郷満山 ryō 両 Ryōzenji 霊山寺 S Saichō 最澄 Sakai Tonushime 酒井門主女 Sakurai, Tokutarō 桜井徳太郎 saniwa 審神者 Sasayama, Haruo 笹山晴生 Satō, Makoto 佐藤真人 Satsuma 薩摩 Seiganji 清岩寺 Seijōkōji 清浄光寺 Seiwa 清和 sekkan 摂関 sendatsu 先達 Senju Kannon bosatsu 千手観音菩薩 senmyō 宣命 Sentōji 千燈寺 shidosō 私度僧 Shigematsu, Akihisa 重松明久 shikimi 樒

257

258 shintai 身体 Shintō 神道 Shirafuji, Noriyuki 白藤禮幸 Shō-Kannon Bosatsu 正観音菩薩 Shōdō shōnin 勝道上人 shōen 荘園 Shōkakuji 正覚寺 Shoku Nihongi 続日本紀 Shōmu 聖武 Shōtoku 称徳 Shōtoku taishi 聖徳太子 Shozan engi 諸山縁起 Shugendō 修験道 shuto 衆徒 so 租 Soga 蘇我 Soga no Umako 蘇我馬子 songō 尊号 Sueyama 末山 Sugawara no Michizane 菅原道実 Suigetsuji 水月寺 Suminoe 住江 Sumiyoshi 住吉 Sumiyoshi taisha 住吉大社 Suō nada 周防灘 T Tachibana no Kachiko 橘嘉智子 Tachibana no Moroe 橘諸兄 Tagawa 田川 Taika kaishin 大化改新 Takachihosan 高千穂山 Takaisesha 鷹居瀬社 Takao 高雄 Takayamadera 高山寺 Takeshiuchi no Sukune 武内宿祢 Taketazu 竹田津 Tamamuro, Fumio 圭室文雄 Tamukeyamasha 手向山社 Tashibu 田染 tatari 祟 Tennenji 天念寺

Japanese Glossary

Japanese Glossary Tōdaiji 東大寺 Togawa, Yasuaki 戸川安章 Togō 都甲 Tōji 東寺 tokko 独鈷 tokkosho 独鈷杵 Tōkōji 東光寺 Tokuitsu 徳一 Toyura 豊浦 Tsubaki 椿 Tsubosakadera 壺坂寺 Tsuguma 津隈 Tsukaguchi, Yoshinobu 塚口義信 Tsukuba 筑波 Tsunoda 角田 Tsunoga 敦賀 [also: Tsuruga] Tsuwadosan 津波戸山 U Ueda, Masaaki 上田正昭 uji 氏 uji no kami 氏上 Ujigawa 宇治川 Umeda, Yoshihiko 梅田義彦 umi no sachi 海の幸 Uno, Enkū 宇野円空 Urabe jūgokashō 浦部十五ケ荘 Usa 宇佐 Usa no Ikemori 宇佐池守 Usa no Kimiai 宇佐公相 Usa no Kimifusa 宇佐公房 Usa no Toyokawa 宇佐豊川 Usagū Hachiman Gotakusen-­shū 宇佐宮八幡御託宣集 Ushikubo, Hiroyoshi 牛窪弘善 Usuno 臼野 W Wakamiya 若宮 Wake no Hironori 和気広範 Wake no Kiyomaro 和気清麻呂 Watanabe, Shōkō 渡辺照宏

259

260 Y Yakushi nyorai 薬師如来 yama no sachi 山の幸 yamabushi 山伏 yamadera 山寺 Yamaga 山香 Yamatai 邪馬台 Yamazaki, Yasuji 山崎安治 Yasaka 八坂 yashiro 社 Yasumaru, Yoshio 安丸良夫 yō 庸 Yodogawa 淀川 Yōmei 用明 Yoshino 吉野 Yudono 湯殿 Yufu 由布 yusoden 輸租田 Z zasu 座主 zōeki 雑役 Zōkei 増慶 Zōyo 増誉

Japanese Glossary

Notes Preface 1 The Taishō version of the Buddhist Canon contains an appendix composed of twelve volumes called (Zuzōbu) and dedicated to iconography, which was a major object of study/practice, and knowledge of which was essential to correct representation, historical, and practical knowledge. It is regrettable that this part of Buddhist cults and culture has remained—until recently—the domain of art history, because it is much more than that. See (Murakami, Takakusu and Watanabe 1912–25). From here on the Canon will be referred to as T, followed by the document number. 2 One scholar of Chinese religious history told me that there were Chinese mountains also subjected to mandalization, but I have not been able to verify the validity of the assertion, and therefore cannot compare.

1  Shugendō and the Production of Social Space 1 According to (Wakamori 1972) the word shugen appears in Nihon Sandai Jitsuroku (901 CE), although the words shu and gen appear separately but in the same sentence in Nihon Ryōiki (ca. 820)—and the term Shugendō appears in an entry dated 1367 in Kōgumaiki, which is somewhat puzzling because many of Shugendō’s central features were in place at the time. 2 See (Kuroda 1981). The term jisha should properly be translated “temples and shrines,” but this would be too vague because it may not necessarily refer to interconnected units, as was the case. I therefore opt for the term “shrine-­temple” to which I add “complex.” The term I used in earlier works, “multiplex,” was abandoned because it indicates in the United States conglomerates of movie theaters. 3 See (Murakami, Tsuji and Washio, Meiji Ishin Shinbutsu Bunri Shiryō 1970); (Tamamuro 1979); (Yasumaru 1979). In English see (Grapard 1984); (Collcutt 1986); (Hardacre 1989); (Ketelaar 1990). 4 I borrow the term “technologies of the self ” from Michel Foucault, who writes that these technologies “permit individuals to effect by their own means or with the help of others a certain number of operations on their own bodies and souls, thoughts, conduct, and way of being, so as to transform themselves in order to attain a state of

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happiness, purity, wisdom, perfection, or immortality.” In (Foucault, Technologies of the Self 1988), p.18 5 On the concept of Japan as a sacred land see (Kuroda, The Discourse on the ’Land of Kami’ (Shinkoku) in Medieval Japan: National Consciousness and International Awareness, 1996). See also (Sasaki 1987) and (Grapard, Flying Mountains and Walkers of Emptiness: Toward a Definition of Sacred Space in Japanese Religions 1982). 6 (Murayama 1970). See also two more recent works by the same author: (Murayama, Shugen no Sekai 1992) and (Murayama, Shugen Onmyōdō to Shaji Shiryō 1997). 7 Little has come down to us about the medical knowledge of the yamabushi; for some information on a few of their therapeutic devices see (Rotermund 1991). 8 (Murayama, Yamabushi no Rekishi 1970), pp. 16–21. 9 (Nagano 1987) is the only recent exception to this rule. 10 A pointed philosophical critique of that position is given in (Castoriadis 1987) pp. 167–220. 11 Examples of this trend are (Hori 1966) and (Blacker 1975). 12 I have in mind the type of sacred space advanced by Mircea Eliade in many of his works. 13 See Map no. 1. 14 (Kiyosuke 1995) p. 26, footnote no. 4. 15 (Nakano 1977) pp. 2–32. But see also his map p. 582, and Nakano’s listing of 135 mountains, pp. 583–8. Wakamori lists 354 sacred for all of Japan in (Wakamori, Yamabushi 1964), while (Miyake 1986) lists only 351 mountains but lists 532 temples and shrines currently associated with Shugendō, pp. 438–63. 16 (Kagawa 1976). 17 (S. a. Hardacre 1988). See also (Hayama 1971). 18 See Map no. 2. 19 (Kuroda, Shinto in the History of Japanese Religion 1981). 20 I use the term agonistic to refer to two distinct, though related processes. As in Ancient Greece, where agons were performed at the time of ritual in the form of chariot and horse races or human combat, the ancient Japanese always engaged in some kind of physical competition at the time of ritual festivity. In the case of Shugendō, more specifically, sumō wrestling was an essential component of religious practice, and some of the oldest puppets used in Hachiman-­related shrines in Kyushu represent sumō wrestlers. The term agonistic is also used in this study to suggest the nature of the relations between two groups that formed the religious community of shrine-­temple complexes: the group whose members specialized in the worship of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, and the group whose members predominantly engaged in rites dedicated to kami. 21 See Map no. 3.

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22 Among others see (Furuta 1977); (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1975); (Higashi Ajia Kodai Bunka 1982); (Yamataikoku 1982). 23 (Farris 1998): p. 51. 24 (Daisanji Gakujutsu Chōsatai 1979). See also (Okada 1985). On the Sumiyoshi cult, see (Nishimoto 1977). 25 (Nijūnisha Kenkyūkai 1987). (Grapard, Institution, Ritual, and Ideology: The Twenty-­two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes of Heian Japan 1987). 26 See (Grapard, Institution, Ritual, and Ideology: The Twenty-­two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes of Heian Japan 1987). See also (Grapard, Shrines registered in imperial law: Shinto or not? 2002). 27 Nihongi: Chronicles of Japan (Aston 1972) (Nishitakatsuji 1980). Kojiki remains silent on these matters. From here on Nihongi will be replaced with Nihon Shoki, the proper name of the document. 28 Nihon Shoki, Book 2, p. 110. Mount Hiko’s late-­sixteenth century etiological narrative, Chinzei Hikosan Engi, claims that this “Toyokuni Master” was in fact a certain Ninniku biku, then regarded as the second patriarch of Hiko Shugendō. 29 (Nishitakatsuji 1980). 30 Nihon Shoki, Book 2, p. 139. 31 On Genbō, see below, p. 37. 32 See (Kanda 1985). 33 Nihon Shoki, Book 1, p. 112, and Kojiki, Book 2, p. 163. 34 There is no possibility of ascertaining the history of oracular practice in Usa prior to the eighth century. Ninth-­century records mention oracles said to date back to the late sixth century, but they are quite unreliable. 35 (Nagatomi 1984) pp. 109–15. See also (Furuta, Ushinawareta Kyūshū Ōchō 1979). 36 In (Ledyard 1975), however, Gari Ledyard builds a strong case for the “Rocklings,” people whose legends are systematically related to stones, and who may have been related to the Homuda and Okinaga Tarashi myths which form one basis of the Hachiman cult. 37 (Aoki, et al. 1989), Vol. 2, p. 312. 38 Shoku Nihongi, Vol. 3, p. 97. 39 (Endō and Kasuga 1967) Book III, 19, p. 369. This document provides three graphs to be read solely for their phonetic value, and therefore makes authority. Note that the narrative mentions a “kami-man” (jinjin, but see note no. 29, p. 306, in which the editors explain jinjin as a man of superior abilities) who comes down from heaven and pierces the chest of two Usa shrine-­temple monks who had shown no respect for a sacerdotal woman born without genitalia (I intercalate gū in daijinji per the editors’ additional endnote no. 35, p. 500). 40 Nakano Hatayoshi discusses these issues in detail in (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1975) Vol. 1, pp. 134–50.

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41 Nakano, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū, Vol. 1, p. 141. Note that Nakano simply claims that “it is clear that there was a special connection between the Ōmiwa ritualists and the Jingū/Ōjin myths” (p. 135). But see below, note no. 88. 42 Nakano Hatayoshi, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū, Vol. 1, p. 113. 43 The name Ōga would have originated with the Ōgami house of Yamato Province, which served the Ōmiwa Shrine (Nakano Hatayoshi, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū, Vol. 2, p. 944). The Shoku Nihongi (Aoki, Inaoka, et al. 1989), Vol. 3, p. 93, however, simply says that Ōmiwa (or should the graphs be read Ōga, or Ōgami?) Morime and Tamaro were granted in 749 a title-­name (kabane), which does not imply a pronunciation change. Nakano’s claim that the Ōmiwa went from Yamato to Kyushu in the sixth century is not corroborated by the sources; neither is the claim that the Ōmiwa changed the pronunciation of their name to Ōga. Had it been the case, it would be clear in Shoku Nihongi that the sacerdotal officiants Morime and Tamaro were Kyushu residents, but this does not appear to have been the case. The only thing that is clear is that Morime and Tamaro were exiled in 755, the former to Hyūga Province in Kyushu, and the latter to Tanegashima (south of Kyushu), and that Tamaro would have been pardoned and appointed to the chief sacerdotal position of Usa in 766 (Shoku Nihongi Vol. 4: p. 135). Contemporary editors of Shoku Nihongi say that the origins of the Ōga are not clear, and that they may have been ancient residents of Kyushu to begin with (Shoku Nihongi, Vol. 3, additional endnote no. 30, p. 469). In a more recent publication Nakano admits that he had been mistaken in identifying the Ōga no Higi mentioned in Usa legends with a certain Ōmiwa no Higi of Uda in Yamato Province, and he drastically alters his dating of Ōga no Higi of Usa, now making him a contemporary of Hōren in the early eighth century—as opposed to the late sixth century. See (Kabushikikaisha Ōita Hōsō, Ōita Rekishi Jiten Kankōhonbu 1990): 186. 44 Nakano Hatayoshi, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū, Vol. 1, p. 15 and p. 137. 45 Shoku Nihongi, Vol. 2, pp. 310–12. I follow Tsukaguchi’s reading, which has the term “two shrines” refer to Usa alone, and not to “Suminoe and Usa,” as other commentators would have it. See (Tsukaguchi 1982): 23. 46 (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkō 1985): 24. 47 (Philippi 1968): 222. 48 The Hakozaki Hachiman Shrine of Fukuoka is said to have been erected on King Homuda’s birthplace in 961, but two sources say differently: Chikuzen no Kuni Fudoki proposes Kaya County, while Umi Hachiman-­gū Engi proposes Kada County. See (Kiyosuke 1995), p. 26, endnote n. 7. The spirit of “Emperor” Chūai was given a cult at Kashii, the mausoleum mentioned a few moments ago. 49 Gari Ledyard, “Galloping Along with the Horseriders,” pp. 250–4. 50 “Mother” is in quotation marks because it may very well have been the case that nobody knew who King Homuda’s mother was, and that the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki compilers used their creative imagination and came up with Okinaga Tarashihime.

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This suggestion gains weight from the fact that only one of these two documents views Homuda’s mother as an empress. 51 (Tsukaguchi 1982): 8. 52 Needless to say, the mythological narratives that have been the object of the most numerous studies by Japanese scholars are the three myths relating the conquests of the archipelago by the Prince of Iware (“Emperor” Jinmu), King Homuda (“Emperor” Ōjin), and the legendary Prince Yamato Takeru, because they are directly related to the origins of the claim to an imperial territory located in the Japanese isles. These conquests originated in the west of the archipelago and moved in an easterly direction, and it is important to note that all three show great use of maritime routes. 53 (Veyne 1988): 84. 54 This lack of clarity, incidentally, may be the reason why Nakano insisted on the factuality of the late sixth-­century “conquest” of the Karashima ritualists by the Ōga (or Ōgami, Ōmiwa) ritualists. 55 That is, before the medieval period, when Hachiman came to be symbolized by the dove; but the Kamakura Hachiman Shrine/Temple complex emblem was the crane. Goshawks were also emblematic of Mount Hiko, and were also worshipped in the Kunisaki Peninsula. 56 (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkō 1985): 102–3. 57 Several reliable documents mention Hōren, whose medical skills earned him recognition by the court in 702. As was mentioned earlier, an imperial decree granted his relatives the surname and title Usa no kimi in 721, a date by which the Heijōkyō court was beginning to pay significant attention to the Usa region. 58 (Shigematsu 1986): 194. 59 (Ōita Kenritsu Usa Fudoki no Oka Rekishiminzoku Shiryōkan 1986): 41–48. 60 Nakano Hatayoshi, Hachiman Shinkō, pp. 17–24. 61 (Nakano, Usagū 1985): 77. 62 (Ōita Kenritsu Usa Fudoki no Oka Rekishiminzoku Shiryōkan 5-1988): 1–19. 63 See below, chapter 2, p. xxx. 64 (Shigematsu 1986), (Akimoto 1958): 387–8. 65 These are the “imperial princes” Hayabusawake, ōbae, Kobae, and the “princess” Metori. It should be noted, however, that the medieval Compendium of Oracles (Hachiman Usagū Gotakusenshū) proposes four different lists of entities enshrined there; for details see Nakano Hatayoshi, Usagū, p. 37. The fifth entity of the Lower Shrine today is Ōsasagi no mikoto, whose name appears in the third list mentioned in the Compendium. 66 (Akimoto 1958), “Hizen no Kuni Fudoki” (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1958): 387. See also (Nakano, Usagū 1985): 37–8. 67 (Tsukaguchi 1982): 151. 68 (Aoki, Inaoka, et al. 1989) Nihon Shoki, Book 1, p. 228, and (Akimoto 1958), “Chikuzen no kuni itsubun”: 505.

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69 (Aoki, Inaoka, et al. 1989) Shoku Nihongi, Vol. 2, pp. 370 and following. 70 Shoku Nihongi, Vol. 2, p. 385. 71 T. 16: 335–457. 72 It is apparent that the identification of sanctuaries as either miya, yashiro, jingū, or byō (mitamaya) was a problem at the time, and that these terms were redefined over the course of the Nara and Heian periods. In this case, however, is it not thinkable that the scribe omitted the third graph that would have qualified the site as “jingūji” (shrine-­temple), used at the time to refer to Buddhist temples erected on the compounds of local shrines? 73 One chō equals approximately 5580 m2. 74 (Grapard, The Protocol of the Gods: A Study of the Kasuga Cult in Japanese History 1992): 64–8. 75 (Endō and Kasuga 1967): 264–8. 76 (Sakurai, Hagiwara and Miyata 1975): 103. The author of Shozan Engi only suggests that Jugen may have been a contemporary of Emperor Shōmu’s. 77 (Tyler 1989) Royall Tyler, “Kōfuku-­ji and Shugendō”: 143–80. 78 See the legends relating Azumi no Isora and Jingū Kōgō in (Grapard, Lotus in Mountain, Mountain in Lotus 1986): 21–50. 79 (Bender 1979): 125–53. 80 (Shigematsu 1986): 198. 81 (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1975) Vol 1, 156, and (Umeda 1964). 82 (Kiyosuke 1995) Kiyosuke Michio (in Yahata Ōgami no Shintaku): p. 11 views the Ōga as Korean immigrants who had settled either in Yamato, Chikuzen, or Ōmi. It is quite possible, therefore, that by the eighth century Korean shamanistic trance, possession, and oracular practices on the part of females dressed as nuns had become a central feature of the Yahata cult in Usa and Nara. This feature dovetails nicely with the role given Usa in dealings with the Korean peninsula, especially if one associates it with the cult given the Buddha of the Future in the Mirokuji Temple. 83 (Aoki, Inaoka, et al. 1989) Shoku Nihongi, 749, twenty-­fifth day of the twelfth month. This mention of the term negini, incidentally, long predates the mention of the corresponding term for men, shasō (shrine monk). Obviously, more research needs to be done on cultic hierarchy nomenclatures. In the present case it should be underlined that, in the case of women, an admixture of Japanese language (negi) and SinoJapanese (ni) was used, while in the case of men a Sino-Japanese reading was used. Although I do not wish to take the case too far at this point, it must also be pointed out that the term negi refers to a rank or position in the world of shrines, while the term sha simply refers to shrines themselves, perhaps because the tandem negi-­sō would have seemed too unnatural in linguistic terms. In any case, the fact remains that the oldest extant index of combined duties in the history of shrine-­temple complexes was applied to female sacerdotal officiants, and it deserves attention.

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  84 (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1940), Vol. 1: 113.   85 (A. Shigematsu 1986) Hachiman Usagū Gotakusenshū: 264.   86 (Bender, The Hachiman Cult and the Dōkyō Incident 1979): 136.   87 (Umeda 1964): 339–42.   88 Kojiki: 257.   89 Nihon Shoki, Book 1: 225.   90 The following is based on (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1975), Vol. 1: 176–83.   91 (Aoki, Inaoka, et al. 1989) Shoku Nihongi 32, Jingo Keiun 3, fourth month, seventh day.   92 Nakano Hatayoshi, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū, p. 178, and Shigematsu Akihisa, Hachiman Usagū gotakusenshū, pp. 325–39.   93 Nakano Hatayoshi, personal communication.   94 More precisely, Wake no Kiyomaro created the Jinganji Temple in Kawachi Province between 782 and 806 to show gratitude to Yahata (Hachiman), but it was Kiyomaro’s son Matsuna (783–846) who petitioned the court to relocate it in Takao in 824, under the name Jingoji—where Kūkai resided for several years.   95 See Map no. 6.   96 (Shintō Taikei Hensankai 1977–2007) Vol. 7: 4.   97 For details of the transportation of these emblems from Usa to Iwashimizu, see (Ōita Kenritsu Usa Fudoki no Oka Rekishiminzoku Shiryōkan 1986): 56.   98 (Iyanaga 1983) See Iyanaga Nobumi, “Daijizaiten,” pp. 713–65.   99 See below, chapter two p. 125 for a detailed discussion of the Buddhist clothing of Hachiman statues and its meanings. 100 (Satō 1987) Satō Masato, “Heian jidai kyūtei no shinbutsu kakuri” in (Nijūnisha Kenkyūkai 1987) Heian jidai no Jinja to Saishi (Tokyo: Kokusho Kankōkai, 1987): 249–300. During the late Heian period as well as in the Kamakura and Muromachi periods, it was customary for emperors to perform major Esoteric Buddhist rituals at the time of their enthronement. See (Grapard, Of Emperors and Foxy Ladies 2002–2003): 127–49. 101 One of the best works on the topic is (Murayama, Honji Suijaku 1974). 102 (Kuroda, Ōbō to Buppō 1983). 103 Iwashimizu is not listed in the Procedures of the Engi Era. The document entitled Gūji Enjishō, a voluminous collection of records related to the Iwashimizu shrine-­temple complex, contains two medieval explanations of this pretermission: Urabe Kaneyori suggested that the sanctuary had not been the object of imperial offerings (kanpei) or provincial government offerings (kokuhei) before the compilation of the Engi Procedures, and Urabe Kaneshige suggested that another reason may be found in the fact that Iwashimizu, like the Gion and Kitano shrine-­temple complexes, did not offer fish (because the institutions were run by

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Buddhist prelates). Nakano Hatayoshi discusses this important and unresolved issue in his introduction to (Shintō Taikei Hensankai 1977–2007) (Jinja Hen), Vol. 7, pp. 19–21 of the main text, and in the same volume, pp. 53–6. Iwashimizu, of course, was eventually added to the list of the Twenty-­two shrine-­temple complexes sponsored by the court. The omission of the Iwashimizu, Kitano, and Gion sites of cult in the Procedures, however, cannot be the result of a simple oversight. 104 (Shigematsu 1986) Hachiman Usagū Gotakusenshū: 273. 105 Kojiki: 194. Indeed, Kōrei’s third son’s spirit was enshrined as the main kami of the famed Kibitsu Shrine-­temple complex, under the name Hiko-Saserihiko-­nomikoto, which was changed later to Ōkibitsu-Hiko-­no-mikoto. 106 (Nishibiyū 1983) Nishibiyū Motohi, “Kunisaki no omi ni kansuru ichikōsatsu,” in Ōita Daigaku Kyōikugakubu (ed.), Kunisaki: Shizen, Shakai, Kyōiku (Ōita, 1983): 235–44. This notion is further supported by narratives found in Harima Fudoki, and by the Himekoso legends. Himekoso is a name shared by one shrine located on Himeshima Island, which is located off the Kunisaki Peninsula’s north coast, and by one shrine located in Osaka. Himekoso is, originally, the name of a “princess” whose legend is told in Nihon Shoki, Book 1: 166–8, but see also the Himekoso shrine legend in “Hizen no Kuni Fudoki” in Akimoto Kichirō (ed.), Fudoki: 383–5. This is of some importance because the Nihon Shoki narrative is set within the context of animosities between Yamato and Silla. 107 Nihon Shoki, Book 1: 148. 108 Nihon Shoki, Book 1: 168. The Himekoso (not Himegoso, as Aston has it) shrine of Himeshima is written with different graphs: 姫語曽. 109 Kojiki, pp. 264–86. 110 (Akimoto 1958) Fudoki: 425. 111 (Nishibiyū, Kunisaki no Omi 1990): 196. 112 (Mano 1990) Ōita Rekishi Jiten: 74. 113 See Map no. 4. 114 (Takeuchi, Nagahara and Amino 1878) “Shōen no jittai wo motomete” in Rekishi Kōron 5 (May 1978): 22–39. 115 (Abe 1978) “Shoki shōen no seiritsu” in Rekishi Kōron 5 (May 1978): 44–50; (K. Satō 1978) Satō Kazuhiko, “Shōensei to ryōshusei” in Rekishi Kōron 5 (May 1978): 66–77. For domains of courtiers see (Yoshie 1978) “Kuge ryō shōen no kōzō to hensen” in Rekishi Kōron 5 (May 1978): 108–14. See also (Yasuda 1993) Yasuda Motohisa, (ed.), Shōen (Tokyo: Tōkyōdō, 1993). For the best discussions in English language see (Morris 1999), “Land and Society,” as well as (Kiley 1999), “Provincial Administration and Land Tenure in Early Heian,” in Donald Shively and William McCullough (eds), The Cambridge History of Japan, Vol. 2 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), respectively, pp. 183–235, and pp. 236–340. See also

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(Kenkyūkai 1991) Shōen Ezu Kenkyūkai (ed.), Ebiki Shōen Ezu (Tokyo: Tōkyōdō, 1991). 116 (Nakano, Usagū 1985): 104–5. 117 (Haga 1978) Haga Norihiko, “Shiki wo meguru shomondai,” in Rekishi Kōron 5 (May 1978): 80–6. 118 Hachiman as oracular judge is mentioned in (Shiryōkan 1981) Ōita Kenritsu Usa Fudoki no Oka Rekishiminzoku Shiryōkan (ed.), Usa, Kunisaki no Rekishi to Bunka (Ōita: Saeki, 1981): 79. 119 (Inoue 1996) “Usa Jingū ni okeru chūseiteki shihaisei no seiritsu,” in Shigaku Zasshi 105:4 (1996): 463–502. 120 (Hachiman Usagū Goshinryō Ōkagami 1988) “Hachiman Usagū Goshinryō Ōkagami,” in Shintō Taikei (Tokyo: Seikōsha, 1988), Vol. 47: 832-418. 121 These are the domains of Niiaki, Tsunoda, Tsuguma, Nuki, Itōzu, and Magarikane in Buzen Province; Tashibu and Ishigaki in Bungo Province; Amibetsu and Tsubaki in Chikuzen Province; Meta, Akame, Ōyanagi, and Ōmachi in Hizen Province; and Koya, Moribe, Ogawa, and Mijimi (conjectural reading) in Chikugo Province. 122 (S. Inoue 1996): 488 and following. 123 (Nakano, Usagū 1985): 104–117. 124 For an example see (Gotō 1980) Gotō Shigemi, “Tashibu mizukagami ni tsuite,” in Beppu Daigaku Shigakuronsō 11 (February 1980): 7592; and (Ō. K. Shiryōkan 1980) Ōita Kenritsu Usa Fudoki no Oka Rekishiminzoku Shiryōkan (ed.), Bungo no kuni Tashibu-­shō, 5 vols. (Usa: Matsubara, 1981–6). 125 (Ishii 995) Ishii Susumu, “Usa Kunisaki no Mura wo tazuneru,” in Asaki Hyakka Bessatsu—Rekishi wo Yominaosu, 9, 1995: 6. 126 (Nakano and Shiraichi, Fukiji 1981). See Nakano Hatayoshi and Shiraishi Ichirō, (eds), Fukiji (Koji Junrei–Saikoku vol. 5) (Kyoto: Tankōsha, 1981). But see also, for more detail, (Toyota, et al. 1997) Toyota Kanzō, Gotō Munetoshi, Iinuma Kenji, Suehiro Kazuto (eds), Ōita-­ken no Rekishi (Tokyo: Yamagawa Shuppan, 1997): 75–80. 127 These Urabe domains are respectively called Yasaka, Ōga, Hinode, Yufu, Yamaga, Fujio, Imi, Kibe, Usuno, Kakachi, Taketazu, Matama, Himeshima, Togō, and Kusachi. In a recent publication (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkō to Shugendō 1998) Nakano Hatayoshi suggests that the system was established before 1106. For detailed archaeological and historical studies of the Togō estate see (Ō. K. Shiryōkan 1988–1993) Ōita Kenritsu Usa Fudoki no Oka Rekishi Minzoku Shiryōkan (ed.), Bungo no Kuni Togō shō, 5 vols (Usa: 1988–93). 128 See (Watanabe 1963), “Bungo ni okeru kokuga kankei no jinja” in (Kokura 1963) Kokura Toyofumi (ed.), Chiiki Shakai to Shūkyō no Shiteki Kenkyū (Kyoto: Yanagihara Shoten, 1963): 57–71. 129 (Grapard, Linguistic Cubism—a Singularity of Pluralism in the Sanno Cult 1987)

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130 See Map no. 5 and Table no. 1. 131 Amino Yoshihiko remarks that contemporary Japanese schoolbooks commit a tremendous error when they stipulate that during the Edo period about 80 per cent of the population of the Akita fief consisted of “farmers.” Indeed, the original term used by the researchers who came up with that number did not mention “farmers,” but the term hyakushō, which simply refers to those people who were not courtiers or warriors. The term hyakushō, however, not only included farmers but fishermen, diving women, and salt-­makers as well. See (Kawazoe and Amino 1994) Chūsei no Ama to Higashi Ajia (Fukuoka: Kaichōsha, 1994): 44–73. In another work, Amino further remarks on the important fact that women were more than non-­negligible entities when it came to industrial production, particularly so in the realm of weaving: see (Amino and Noboru 1999) Amino Yoshihiko and Miyata Noboru (eds), Kami to Shihon to Josei (Tokyo: Shinshokan, 1999), especially pp. 32 and following. 132 Nakano Hatayoshi, Usagū: 93. 133 Nakano Hatayoshi, Usagū: 100. 134 (Nakano, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1940), Vol. 2: 689–714. See also (Umehara 1974) Umehara Haruo, Kunisaki Hantō no Rekishi to Minzoku (Ōita: Saeki, 1974): 40–8. 135 (S. Murakami 1978) Nihon Shūkyō Jiten (Tokyo: Kōdansha, 1978): 100–2. 136 (Ō. K. Shiryōkan, Usa, Kunisaki no Rekishi to Bunka 1981) Usa, Kunisaki no Rekishi to Bunka: 89. 137 The Hachimen and Kubote mountains were also centers of Shugendō. Closely related to Hiko Shugendō and the Usa Hachiman cult though they may have been, however, they were quite distinct. On Mount Kubote see (Y. Shigematsu 1986) Shigematsu Toshimi, Yamabushi Mandara—Kubotesan Shugendō Iseki ni Miru (Tokyo: Nihon Hōsō Shuppan, 1986); see also (Murayama, Shugen no Sekai 1992); (Kyoto: Jinbun Shoin, 1992): 249–83. On the topic of Mount Hachimen see (Nakano, Hachimenzan Shinkō to Shugen Jiin 1977). 138 (Y. a. Endō 1977) Nihon Ryōiki: 134–8. 139 (Nagamatsu 1993). See Nagamatsu Atsushi, Shuryō Minzoku to Shugendō (Tokyo: Hakusuisha, 1993). 140 (Grapard, Kūkai: Stone-Inscription for the Monk Shōdō, who Crossed Mountains and Streams in His Search for Awakening 1978), in Michael Tobias and Harold Drasdo (eds), The Mountain Spirit (New York: Overlook Press, 1978): 51–9. 141 Some researchers think that Shōdō did not exist or had views that differ from Kūkai’s perspective. See (Hoshino 1954) Hoshino Riichirō, Shōdō Shōnin (Tokyo: Waguna-, 1954). 142 (Inoue and Ōsone 1974) Ōjōden Hokke Genki. English translation: (Kurata Dystra 1983) Miraculous Tales of the Lotus Sutra from Ancient Japan, the Dainihonkoku Hokekyō Kenki of Priest Chingen (Tokyo: Sanseidō, 1983).

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143 The earliest extant complete engi of Kunisaki, for example, is dated 1711. It surfaced in the Mount Hiei Library in 1991, when I asked to see Kunisaki-­related documents; no scholar of Kyushu history, except Nakano Hatayoshi (who mentions only its name, without location), knew of its existence. 144 It should also be pointed out that a vast number of “local” cults’ historical documents, forcefully taken to Tokyo in the late nineteenth century, disappeared in the fires caused by the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923 and in the (Y. Shigematsu 1986) firebombings of Tokyo by the United States near the end of World War II. 145 Nakano Hatayoshi, Usagū: 92–102. 146 Nakano, Usagū: 87. 147 Shigematsu Akihisa, Hachiman Usagū Gotakusenshū: 358–9. 148 (Ninmon Bosatsu Chōki 1988). In Shintō Taikei Hensankai(ed.), Shintō Taikei (Tokyo: Seikōsha, 1988), Jinja Hen Vol. 7: 129–30. 149 Nakano, Usagū: 96. 150 (Bock 1970–72) Engi shiki, Procedures of the Engi Era, English translation by Felicia Bock, 2 vols. (Tokyo: Sophia University, Monumenta Nipponica Monographs, Vol. 2: 169. 151 (Akimoto 1958) Fudoki: 511–12. 152 Kojiki: 77. Nihon Shoki, Book 1: 37. 153 (Nagano 1987) Hikosan no Rekishichirigakuteki Kenkyū: 40. 154 (Nagano 1987) Hikosan no Rekishichirigakuteki Kenkyū: 40. 155 Nagano Tadashi recently wrote that the origins of Mount Hiko are threefold: “Shintō,” on the basis of this Hikosan-Ki; “Buddhist,” on the basis of the 1213 Hikosan Ruki; and “Shugendō,” on the basis of the 1570 Chinzei Hikosan Engi. See details of the argument in (Miyake, Shugendō Shūgyō Taikei 1994) Shugendō Shūgyō Taikei: 390–408. 156 (Iinkai 1987) Hikosan Shugendōkan Tenjishiryō (Fukuoka: Bunrindō, 1987): 32. See also (Honsha 1983) Hikosan Hakkutsu (Fukuoka: Ashi Shobō, 1983). 157 (Hirowatari and Kawazoe 1986) Hirowatari Masatoshi and Kawazoe Shōji (eds), Hikosan Hennen Shiryō Kodai Chūsei Hen (Tokyo: Bunken Shuppan, 1986): 516. 158 (Hikosan Ruki 1975–84) in Gorai Shigeru (ed.), Sangaku Shūkyoshi Kenkyū Sōsho, Vol. 18: 463–74. 159 My translation; see the complete document on the website for this book. 160 (Miyake, Shugendō Jiten 1986): 327. 161 (Nagano and Pak, Kankoku Dankun Shinwa to Hiko Kaizan Denshō no Nazo 1996) Fukuoka: Kaichōsha, 1996. 162 Pak Sonsu writes that the Samguk yusa was written in the first half of the fourteenth century, whereas Hyun Il Pai (see endnote no. 166, below) writes that it was written in the thirteenth century.

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163 Nagano Tadashi and Pak Sonsu (eds), Kankoku Dankun Shinwa to Hiko Kaizan Denshō no Nazo: 14–15. See also an English translation of the relevant parts and a systematic deconstruction of the myth in (Hyung Il 2000), Constructing “Korean” Origins: A critical Review of Archaeology, Historiography, and Racial Myth in Korean State-­formation Theories (Cambridge: Harvard University Asian Center, 2000): 57–77. For a detailed analysis of Korean mythology see (Grayson 2001) Myths and Legends from Korea: An Annotated Compendium of Ancient and Modern Materials (Richmond: Curzon, 2001). 164 See above, note no. 82. 165 In Nakano Hatayoshi, “Hikosan to Kyūshū no Shugendō,” in Sangaku Shūkyōshi Kenkyū Sōsho Vol. 13: 120. 166 The relevant passages of Chūyūki and Honchō Seiki are reproduced in Hirowatari Masatoshi and Kawazoe Shōji (eds), Hikosan Hennen Shiryō Kodai-Chūsei Hen: 39–43. 167 Whether the words “Mirokuji Hikosan” should be interpreted to mean “Mirokuji’s Mount Hiko” or “the Mirokuji Temple and Mount Hiko” is an open question and the answers that have been proposed so far have hinge on their authors’ ideological leanings. 168 (Kishima 1978), “Hikosan no Rekishi,” in Tagawa Kyōdo Kenkyūkai (ed.), Hikosan (Fukuoka: Ashi Shobō, 1978): 1–11. The particulars mentioned here are on pp. 49–51. 169 Nakano Hatayoshi, (ed.), Hikosan to Kyūshū no Shugendō: 11. 170 (Hirowatari and Kawazoe, Hikosan Hennen Shiryō Kodai-Chūsei Hen 1986): 40. And (Hirowatari, Hikosan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1994) (Tokyo: Bunken Shuppan, 1994): 24. 171 See (Renondeau 1963) Les Moines Guerriers du Japon (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1963). 172 (Nakano, Chikuzen no Kuni Hōmanzan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1980) Chikuzen no Kuni Hōmanzan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū (Tokyo: Meicho Shuppan, 1980): 44–8. 173 When it was revealed in oracles that sudden deaths and various disasters occurring in Kyoto had been caused by Michizane’s posthumous wrath, a cult was given to his spirit with a view to pacify it, both in Kyoto (at the Kitano Shrine-­temple complex) and in Dazaifu (at the Anrakuji, which came to be headed by Michizane’s descendants). See (Borgen 1986) Sugawara no Michizane and the Early Heian Court (Cambridge, Mass.: Council on East Asian Studies, distributed by Harvard University Press, 1986). In Japanese see (Hensankai, Dazaifu 1974) Shintō Taikei Hensankai (ed.), “Dazaifu” (Shintō taikei, Vol. 48); (Kasai 1973) Tenjin Engi no Rekishi (Tokyo: Yūzankaku, 1973); (Y. Sakurai 1976) Kamigami no Henbō (Tokyo: Tokyo University Press, 1976): 61–102. 174 See Kuroda Toshio, English translation by Allan Grapard, (Kuroda, The World of Spirit Pacification: Issues in State and Religion 1996) Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 23: 3–4 (Fall 1996): 321–51.

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175 Tamefusa Kyōki; see (Murayama, Yamabushi no Rekishi 1970): 119–20. 176 Hence the name of the temple, Shōtaigoji-­in, “Temple for the Protection of the Sacred Body,” abbreviated Shōgo-­in. 177 (Hirowatari and Kawazoe, Hikosan Hennen Shiryō Kodai Chūsei Hen 1986) (Tokyo: Bunken Shuppan, 1986): 68–70. 178 Nakano Hatayoshi, Hikosan to Kyūshū no Shugendō: 10. 179 Hikosan ruki; see above, endnote 162. The beams in question are basaltic formations, looking very much like pillars set side by side; they still are an object of cult today. 180 See (Bender, Metamorphosis of a Deity: the Image of Hachiman in Yumi Yawata 78) in Monumenta Nipponica 33: 2 (Summer 1978): 165–78. 181 Some sources say that Ōtomo Yoshinao was an illegitimate child of Minamoto no Yoritomo, but this seems to be a late legend made possible by the fact that Yoritomo left no heir. Other sources, including a recently discovered lineage chart dating from the end of the Kamakura period, say that he was born in the Furushō (Kondō) house, a sub-­branch of the Fujiwara house, and that he was adopted by Nakahara Chikayoshi (1143–1208), a warlord loyal to the Minamoto house who had been protector of Kyoto before becoming administrator of Kyushu (Chinzei bugyō). In any case, it was not before 1338 that the Ōtomo warlords began to use the name Minamoto. See (Watanabe, Ōtomo Yoshinao 1990) in Ōita Rekishi Jiten: 116. 182 Annin took the name Joyū Hōshinnō (dharma prince) after his ordination at the Nyohōji in Buzen Province, and all subsequents abbots of Mount Hiko kept the graph pronounced yū in their names. 183 When abbots did not father children they adopted sons from aristocratic families. 184 (Kawasaki 1980) Hieizan Monzenchō Sakamoto (Ōtsu: Ōmi Bunkasha, 1980). 185 These shrines are discussed in chapter three.

2  Geotyped and Chronotyped Social Spaces 1 Henri Lefèbvre, English translation by Donald Nicholson-Smith, The Production of Space (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991). p. 15. 2 (Bender and Wellbery 1991) p. 3. 3 (Bender and Wellbery 1991) p. 4. 4 This is a revised version of (Grapard 1994). 5 (Heian Ibun 1963) No. 665. 6 (Kageyama 1973) pp. 491–512. 7 (Guth Kanda 1985). 8 Three ryō and three masu; one ryō is approximately 9.4 gallons, and one masu is approximately 0.94 gallon.

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  9 On these issues see (Sugawara 1992) pp. 197–238, and (Sonehara 1996) pp. 179–255. 10 See Illustration no. 1. 11 Note that parturition huts are called ubuya, and that the On’ubaneya sends one to the Kojiki narrative in which the parturition hut is covered with cormorant (u) feathers. (Kojiki, Book 1, pp. 150–64). See a discussion of this feature in (Grapard, Visions of Excess and Excesses of Vision 1991). One shaku is approximately 30cm, and one sun is approximately 3cm. 12 See Map no. 7. 13 (Hurvitz 1976) pp. 38–9. 14 Scripture of the Lotus Blossom of the Fine Dharma, p. 243. 15 Scripture of the Lotus Blossom of the Fine Dharma, p. 195. 16 (Hurvitz 1976) Scripture of the Lotus Blossom of the Fine Dharma, p. 326. 17 This study is available at //repo.beppu.ac.jp/modules/xoonips/download.php/ gk01303.pdf?file_id=5379 18 (Nakano 1985) p. 47. 19 (Nietzsche 1969) pp. 103–4. 20 (Bourdieu 1990) p. 34. 21 (Mus 1928). I am indebted to Bernard Faure for drawing my attention to this study. 22 (Nakano, Usa Hachimangū Hōjōe to Hōren 1998). See also (Law 1994) 325–57. This important ritual will not be discussed in the present study for lack of space. 23 On this topic see (Frank 1958), but see also the various authors discussing the same topic in (Murayama, et al. 1991). 24 (Shigematsu 1986) 114–15. 25 A famous exception is that of the medieval Shinto-Buddhist figure Myōe shōnin. 26 I am referring here to the Nanase no harai ritual, which originated in 963 under Onmyō (dō) influences. It entailed making paper sheets cut in anthropomorphic shapes, onto which the emperor blew his breath, and which he subsequently stroked his vestments with. These figurines were then flowed down seven different rivers. This rite was picked up on the popular level, as in the case of the Nagashibina and Ningyō okuri rites commonly seen today. Combined with Tendai esotericism, this rite evolved into the Rokuji karin-­hō. 27 The Elder turns out to be Hachiman, and the jewel is said to have been subsequently transferred to the Mirokuji Temple of Usa. 28 (Hikosan Ruki 1984). See the translation of the complete document on the website of this book. 29 Annin took the name Joyū hōshinnō (dharma prince) after his ordination at the Nyohōji in Buzen Province, and all subsequent abbots of Mount Hiko kept the graph pronounced yū in their names. 30 When abbots did not father children they adopted sons from aristocratic families. 31 (Kawasaki 1980).

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32 These shrines are discussed below, chapter three. 33 See Map no. 8. 34 One shaku is approximately 30 cm, and one sun is approximately 3 cm. 35 See the translation of the entire document on the website of this book. 36 (Shozan Engi 1975). (Chōkan Kanmon 1977). For an analysis of texts describing these “flying mountains” events, see (Ikegami 1999). See also (Grapard, Flying Mountains and Walkers of Emptiness: Toward a Definition of Sacred Space in Japanese Religions 1982). I have visited both Mount Tiantai and the Lingyin-­ssu in China and must say that the flying mountains cultural phenomenon is remarkably coherent across cultures. It must also be mentioned that the number 72 as well as the mention of Maitreya are exceedingly important, as will soon be explained. A PhD dissertation recently completed by Carina Roth Al Eid in Lausanne offers a depth-­ interpretation and complete translation of the Shozan Engi. 37 (Schafer 1977). 38 (Schafer 1977). 39 (Ueki 1989). 40 (Schafer 1977, 103). 41 (Schafer 1977, 148). 42 (Grapard, Religious Practices in the Heian Period 1999). 43 Reproductions of this sword can be seen in (Hayashi 1997). 44 (Schafer 1977, 159). 45 (Schafer 1977, 152). 46 (Schafer 1977, 103). Indeed, the five swords thrown from India/China would have passed right through the Dipper and Ox, that is, in a northwesterly direction. The website link appears to be broken; the study was originally published in Nature. 47 (Hikosan Ruki 1984). 48 (Schafer 1977, 148). 49 (Schafer 1977, 150). 50 (Schafer 1977, 151). 51 (Shigematsu 1986, 164). 52 See good examples of the Kurikara dragon swords in (Shimizu 1997). For the asterisms see (Hayashi, Myōken Bosatsu to Hoshi Mandara 1997). 53 (Honsha 1983). 54 See (Hayami 1971). 55 (Mus, Esquisse d’une Histoire du Bouddhisme Fondée sur la Critique Archéologique des Textes 1932). 56 (Fontein 1967). 57 (Observations on the Role of the Gandavyūha in the Design of Barabudur 1981). 58 (1981: 186). 59 (Hikosan Ruki 1984).

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60 One ri is the equivalent of about 3.9 m. 61 See Chapter 3 for a detailed discussion of this rite. 62 (Hikosan Ruki 1984). 63 A detailed analysis of the twenty-­eight attendants is found in (Itō 1997). 64 T. 1060. 65 T. 1068. 66 See Table no. 3. 67 T. 2243. 68 The list is proposed by (Sawa 1962), where the author identifies the twenty-­eight attendants’ sculptures found in the Sanjūsangendō temple of Kyoto. As Sawa notes, discrepancies in several texts indicate that the identification fluctuated over time, but it may simply be the case that the variants are related to different esoteric transmissions or lineages. 69 (Lefėbvre 1991, 233). 70 (Lefėbvre 1991, 231). 71 (Castoriadis 1975). 72 I am indebted to James Robson for providing me with further details on the topic, and highly recommend his recent book: (Robson 2009). 73 T. 19, 1000a. 74 T. 76, 2409, fasc. 15. 75 (Hurvitz 1976, 187–88). 76 On the importance of this term see (Lamotte 1962). Lamotte translates dōjō as “Area of enlightenment,” in the sense that it indicates the Diamond Seat where a thousand Buddhas have attained or will attain the Concentration that is similar to the diamond and immediately precedes Enlightenment. In a figurative sense, Lamotte continues, the term simply signifies the spiritual presence of the Buddhist law. 77 T. 76, 2409, Gyōrinshō, p. 129 b & c. 78 For reproductions of this mandala see (Hakubutsukan 1979); for the shuji mandara, see (Hakubutsukan 1979, 164). A good quality color reproduction can be seen in Asahigurafu 3308 (Tokyo: Asahi Shinbunsha, 3–25, 1986) p. 56. 79 (Misaki 1994). 80 Yuimagyō gensho: T 38, 1777. 81 Indeed, later commentators have wondered about these lines, as one can surmise from the secret transmissions concerning this ritual and consigned in the Asabashō that was compiled from 1242 to 1281. See T. Zuzōbu 9, pp. 109–24. 82 See (Chappell 1983). In (Donner and Stevenson 1993), Chih-I, however, writes that the four lands can be brought into correspondence vertically with the four noble truths as well, and can also be matched horizontally with these four truths. The authors of the study suggest (p. 162, note no. 113) that the fit is not a good one. They also say (p. 161, note no. 108) that the four types of land or realm correspond to the

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three bodies of the Buddha and to four levels of spiritual development in the following manner: “The Co-­dwelling Land, where ordinary people and sages may both be found; the Land of Expedients, where imperfectly realized Hīnayānistic Śrāvakas and Pratyekabuddhas dwell; the Land of Real Recompense, where the Bodhisattvas are; and the Land of Eternal Quiescence and Illumination, the domain of the Buddhas as they are in and of themselves. Of the three bodies of the Buddha, the body of enjoyment or recompense and dharma-­body correspond respectively to the third and fourth of these lands, while two bodies of manifestation or response—one superior, the other inferior—are distinguished in accordance with the first and second of the Four Lands.” 83 (Murayama, Yamabushi no Rekishi 1970). 84 Prince Asabito was the sixth child of Retired Emperor Go-Toba, who long took Jien under his protection and placed Asabito as his disciple under the name Dōkaku Shinnō. Jien took great care of this disciple and in 1210 issued a series of documents to guarantee Dōkaku’s economic and spiritual support. This was probably intended to prevent the newly created kōgi (the common word is Kamakura Bakufu (Shogunal government), but it was not yet used at the time) from usurping the estates in question. See (Taga 1959). 85 See a more detailed analysis of the mandalization processes in Chapter three, below. 86 See Photograph no. 1 given to me by Takachiho Hidefumi, Assistant Headpriest of Hiko Shrine, and compare with the computer-­generated three-­dimensional model of Mount Hiko, Illustration no. 2. 87 (Shugen Shūyō Hiketsu-­shū 1968). 88 Witness the following discussion of cataracts in (Demiéville 1986): “Opacities that disturb eyesight, more precisely, cataracts that were operated upon in India by means of a metallic lancet, is a classical term of comparison. Someone stricken by it is assimilated to the ignoramus whom the Buddha heals. His warped vision is assimilated, in scholastic philosophy, to the differentiating imagination that causes relative characteristics, etc., to appear—like optical illusions, spots, hairs or the like.” And further in the same text, “Ophthalmology, and in particular the operation upon cataracts with a metallic needle, is the object of constant allusions in Buddhist texts. A ritual of symbolic operation upon cataracts with the salaka is described in Sanskrit in a Tantric text preserved, along with a commentary, in Old Javanese. In Tantrism, one of the symbolic rites that accompany the ceremony of initiation or the initiatory unction is inspired by the operation. The master holds before the initiate a wand or metal (or more precisely of gold) called in Japanese konbei, addressing to him a stanza that the Vairocana sūtra cites in Chinese translation and its commentary gives in Sanskri” (vaidya rāja), clears away his “membrane” of ignorance (ajñāna). The Sanskrit term for “membrane” is patāla; this word designates the four wrappers or transparent membranes surrounding the eye, of which the

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fourth is the seat of opacities that constitute the cataract proper. The same terms are found in a simile made in the Mahāparinirvān.a-­sūtra. The Vairocana sūtra commentary describes the surgical wand as a small vajra about 4 to 5 inches long, thin around the middle, with two rounded and smoothed points that physicians smear with medicaments and insert into each of the two eyes (two wands with single points are also employed, one for each eye). Another Tantric Text, the Tattvasam.graha, specifies that in the symbolic ritual the master uses it to rub the eyes of the initiate. A Chinese author of the Ch’an School alludes to these instruments in giving the title Vajra Wand to a brief but renowned treatise on the nature of awakening in inanimate beings.” (Demiéville 1986, 90–91). 89 (Lamotte, Le Traité de la Grande Vertu de Sagesse, de Nāgārjuna 1980). My translation. 90 (Grapard, Of Emperors and Foxy Ladies 2002–2003). 91 Tokuzen-ō is the name of Emperor Tenmu prior to his ascension to the throne. I am indebted to Robert Duquenne for helping identity this elusive figure. 92 (Chinzei Hikosan Engi 1987). See my translation of the complete document on the website for this book.

3  Festivities and Processions: Spatialities of Power   1 (Hikosan Shojin’eki Shidai 1987).   2 Many details about these yearly-­appointees can be found in the various diaries contained in (Hikosan Nenban Nikki 1994).   3 (Nagano 1989, 40).   4 (Soja 1989, 80), endnote 3.   5 (McMullin, Buddhism and the State in Sixteenth Century Japan 1985).   6 (Shūkyōshi 1964).   7 One koku is approximately 95 liters.   8 Kōen, a monk of the Zuien’in, wrote the Jinkoshū, published in (Kōen 1975).   9 This document is reproduced in (Hirowatari, Hikosan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1994). 10 (Hirowatari, Hikosan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1994, 212–14). 11 This date is given in (Hirowatari, Hikosan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1994, 216) but Nakano Hatayoshi gives the date 1688 in (H. Nakano, Hōmanzan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1980). 12 Details of the process can be found in a diary kept at the time of abbot Shōyū’s visit to Kyoto and Edo. See (Hirowatari and Kai, Hikosan Nenban Nikki 1994). 13 Matters were actually more complicated, for they involved rights to visit each other’s mountains during mandalized peregrinations, and there were conflicts over water sources located along the peregrination routes: the ill will of Mount Hiko’s

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community was brought to the surface when it was claimed that one or several of its members had covered an important water spring with earth, to prevent it from being used by Mount Hōman’s yamabushi. For details see (H. Nakano, Hōmanzan Shinkōshi no Kenkyū 1980, 120–145). 14 See Table no. 2. Source: (Kenkyūkai 1978). This table is an attempt to reconstruct the pre-1868 ritual calendar on the basis of a variety of early modern documents, mostly journals kept by yearly-­appointed supervisors (nenban). For the yearly-­appointed supervisors’ diaries see (Hikosan Nenban Nikki 1994). 15 This, because it was believed that the Chinese lunar calendar’s second month corresponded to the first month of the Indian year. See (Nishitsunoi, Nenjū Gyōji Jiten 1958). 16 (Kenkyūkai 1978, 256). 17 The term umoku is written with the graphs meaning “rabbit” and “tree.” “Rabbit” refers to the fourth animal of the Chinese zodiac, and symbolizes the second month of the lunar calendar; it itself is symbolized by wood, one the five active agents found in nature. This indicates the Chinese origins of the rite. 18 See (Miyake, Shugendō to Nihon Shūkyō 1996). 19 (Kaempfer 1999). 20 (Rotermund 1991). 21 (McMullin, On Placatings the Gods and Pacifying the Populace 1988). 22 (Grapard, Religious Practices in the Heian Period 1999). 23 (Kuroda, The World of Spirit Pacification—Issues of State and Religion 1996). 24 (Rotermund 1991, 43). 25 For fascinating and revealing details on the history, nature and sociopolitical function of this rite see (Y. Nakano 1988). 26 Hirome is the ancient name of the prized seaweed; it was replaced by the term konbu some time during the Muromachi period, but remained in use in some culinary circles as well as among ritualists. 27 The word shioitori is written in this case with graphs meaning “tide-­well-gathering” 汐井採り, but the term shioi is often written with the graphs 潮斎, in which [i] refers to ritual abstinence. This term shioi is often used in western and central Japan to indicate seawater or a combination of seawater, sand, and pebbles that are taken from the coast and sprinkled in sanctuaries to purify them before spring and autumn observances. Whether this is a coincidence or not, this type of rite is performed at many shrines dedicated to Hachiman, though not exclusively. See, for example, a similar ritual performed at the Mitsuke Tenjin “naked” ritual festivity, dedicated to the deified spirit of Sugawara no Michizane and to that of the sacred dog (reiken) Hayatarō. 28 This rite may have taken its present form in the mid-­to-late-Muromachi period, since it does not appear in a 1445 document listing Mount Hiko’s ritual calendar.

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The same document, however, does mention sub-­rites that are now part of the shioitori ritual, such as the renewal of straw ropes affixed to shrine gates or eaves. This rite is also studied by Anne Bouchy, but I have not seen it. Her study should appear in an issue of the Cahiers d’Extreme-Asie (EFEO Kyoto). 29 See Map no. 12. 30 It was said that whoever peeked at the yamabushi while they gathered water would become blind, and it was common for people to stay indoors at the time. A recent report blamed news cameramen for natural disasters that occurred after they used flashlights to record the event, and the prohibition against artificial light was subsequently made more stringent: see (Fukushima, Hikosan no Matsuri to Hōmanzan no Mineiri 1984). 31 (Gorai, Hikosan no Kaiso to Kumano Shinkō 1977). 32 See the translation of the whole text on the website of this book. 33 See (Nishitsunoi, Nenjūgyōji Jiten 1958), where these rituals are detailed. 34 The office of roving inspector (junkenshi) was created in 1633; these inspectors were dispatched shortly after the appointment of every new shogun. There were two types: inspectors sent by the shogunate to daimyō domains, and those sent to shogunal domains. Starting in 1681, it became customary to divide the country into eight parts and to send to each a team of three roving inspectors who were charged with different duties. 35 (Murakami 1995). 36 Murakami Tatsuo writes that these “kings” are related to the kami Saruta-­biko, guide of the descent of “Emperor” Jinmu onto Mount Takachiho, but I cannot find any reference to these entities, either in Kojiki or Nihon Shoki. In (Takami 1995), however, Takami Kenji discusses many closely resembling masks found in Kyushu, also known (some through inscriptions on the inside of the masks), as “Water King” and “Fire King.” Just as the masks displayed at Mount Hiko, one has an opened mouth, while the other’s mouth is closed. The author discusses these masks in relation to rituals that are still performed; the ritual closest to that under discussion in this chapter is, not surprisingly, the fire ritual of Mount Aso, which bears the same name as that of Mount Hiko: “Ondasai” or “Onda Matsuri.” 37 (Bourdieu 1990). 38 The graph pronounced shō in the compound means “viands,” and serves in a number of contexts ranging from army approvisions to snacks; when the same graph is pronounced kareii it refers to dried foodstuff used when traveling or to food that is offered to someone highplaced. I choose to translate the term here as ‘delicacies’ because of the style of offering, and of types of food that range from miki kept in special casks to elaborate sweets. It is important to note, in this context, that two tray landscapes were also offered as ‘delicacies;’ they were the object of great admiration. See (Murakami 1995, 19).

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39 See (Pinnington 1998). 40 (Miyake, Yama no Matsuri to Geinō 1984). 41 In (Harootunian 1988) the author gives a detailed discussion of work as sacred activity. See also (Robertson 2000). 42 (Hikosan Ruki 1984) p. 15. 43 (Tyler 1989). 44 (Miyake, Shugendō Shōso Kaidai 2000). 45 (Grapard, Flying Mountains and Walkers of Emptiness: Toward a Definition of Sacred Space in Japanese Religions 1982). 46 (Hikosan Ruki 1984). 47 (Hōsō and Honbu 1990). 48 (Sasaki 1977). 49 I choose to translate the technical term jun as “recto” and gyaku as “verso” for the following reasons. Historically, the term jun was used by the Kumano-­based yamabushi to refer to their route from Kumano to Yoshino, and the term gyaku was later used to denote the reverse course from Yoshino to Kumano. The two terms, however, have had varied meanings in China, where they typically refer to good or bad luck as well as to normal features of the course of nature as opposed to abnormalities, and so on. In technical manuals of esoteric meditation on graphic symbols, however, the term jun is used to denote a movement from the center toward the periphery of a single shittan graph, or of a group of graphs arranged in circles; the movement is known as junsenden. There is little question, then, that the terms jun and gyaku in Shudendō doctrine refer to a movement away from the base (jun), and of return to that base (gyaku). Major Shugendō centers such as Kumano, Haguro, and Katsuragi use the same terms with slight interpretive and temporal variations, although it seems that jun always refers to spring, and gyaku to fall, that is, according to the “normal” course of things. Other possible translations of these two terms might be: forth and back, advance and retreat, progress and regress, but they seem impractical and misleading, even if only slightly more so, than recto and verso (one advantage of which is that they make one think of rectitude and adversity). 50 (Sanpō Sōsho Hōsoku Mikki 1919). See also Figures no. 2 and 3 in the book, which represent the two-­dimensional structure of the Adamantine and Matrix mandalas. 51 I am aware that this is modern vocabulary; however, I hold the view that late sixteenth-­century Japanese warlords fostered totally new epistemological (and practical) understandings concerning the superiority of “political” institutions over “religious” ones, and that they considered their military superiority to be proof of the validity of these understandings. It is not by chance that Tokugawa Ieyasu, a few years later, sucessfully issued regulations concerning all aspects of Buddhist and Shintō institutions in the land. 52 (Sasaki 1977, 57).

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53 In Flying Mountains and Walkers of Emptiness. 54 (Miyake, Shugendō Shūgyō Taikei 1995). 55 (Hiroe 1978). It has come to my attention that Byron Earhart wrote an article on the topic, so I shorten my discussion of the topic. 56 This stanza is known as hongaku-­san, “In praise of innate awakening,” and is regarded as absolutely necessary in Tendai Shugendō. It is the opening stanza of the Myōhōrenge-­kyō sanmai himitsu sanmaya-­kyō, said to have been translated by Amoghāvajra and brought back to Japan by Enchin. The sutra in question is not included in the Taishō Canon, but in the Manji Zōkyō published in Kyoto between 1904 and 1906. It is said that by chanting this stanza the yamabushi unite in themselves the Adamantine and Matrix Realms, and thereby confirm their achievement of Buddhahood. 57 One shaku is approximately 30 cm, and one sun is approximately 3 cm. 58 (Hikosan Shugen Saihi Injin Kuketsushū 2000). 59 (Hikosan Shugen Saihi Injin Kuketsushū 2000). 60 (Bourdieu 1990, 77). (Grapard, The source of oracular speech: absence? presence? or plain treachery? 2003) 61 (Hikosan to Kyūshū no Shugendō 1977). 62 (Hori 2000). Especially chapter 7, “The great water divide of northern Kyushu follows sacred mountains.” 63 This is a revised version of Grapard, “The Source of Oracular Speech: Absence? Presence? Or Plain Treachery”? 64 The version used here is (Shigematsu 1986). 65 The most important documents are the two versions of the Hachiman Gudōkin dated, respectively, between 1308 and 1317 and between 1301 and 1304, but there are many others. 66 By this I mean to suggest that oracles (speech utterances on the part of Another) were regarded as constitutive (or performative) elements of a ‘future’ reality, subsequently confirmed by Jin’un’s own narrative of the “past.” 67 The term used is takusen, but Jin’un sometimes uses the more restrictive term, Shintō no kyōmei, “Shinto directive.” 68 (Shigematsu 1986, 114–15). 69 This too was an old position in some Buddhist circles. 70 Dreams formed an important part of the phenomena subsumed under the single term takusen (oracle), and several are mentioned in the Compendium. They were also submitted to oneiromancy (yume uranai). Michel Foucault writes in his analysis of Artemidoris’ The Key to Dreams that “Later, Synesios would represent a quite traditional viewpoint when he reminded [his audience] that our dreams constitute an oracle that ‘lives with us’, accompanies us ‘in our travels, in war, in public functions, in agricultural labor, and in our commercial undertakings.’ One must then consider a dream as ‘an everready prophet, an indefatigable and silent

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giver of advice.” ’ (Foucault 1984). Dreams do not appear in the Shindaihen (“Generations of the kami”) of either Kojiki or Nihon Shoki, but they are important in the subsequent records of the reigns of “Emperors” Jimmu, Sujin, and Suinin. They occupy a prominent place in Manyōshū, and continued to be a feature of literary and religious works until the end of the Edo period. Interesting oneiro-­critical treatises of the Edo period include Muboku Shūyūshinan, and quite a few others. It is necessary to pay attention to the “reading” in all of the above, for, as Foucault pointed out in The Order of Things, diviners are “readers of the obscure.” 71 The cases of possession called kamigakari or hyōi. 72 In contemporary Japan the yorimashi of Mount Ontake and Mount Hayama, for example, are spectacularly possessed at preset places and times. 73 On this issue see my discussion and bibliography in (Grapard, Visions of Excess and Excesses of Vision: Women and Transgression in Japanese Mythology 1991). 74 Nakayama Miki, who founded Tenrikyō, is a case studied in (Hardacre 1994). More recently, cases of possession leading to the formation of new religious groups have been studied in Okinawa by the Norwegian anthropologist Solrun Hoaas (in documentaries on Okinawa), and in other parts of Japan by (Kawamura 1997). 75 After all, Jin’un was a Tendai prelate who knew the Makashikan (Mohoshihkuan), and the Sannō cult was widespread in northern Kyushu at the time. On horizontality and verticality with regard to both, see (Grapard, Linguistic Cubism: A Singularity of Pluralism in the Sannō Cult 1987). Examples of these games of verticality and horizontality abound between Kyushu (in the case of Mount Hiko as well as of Usa) and, as far as I can ascertain as of today, Nikkō in the Kantō area. I would not be surprised if there are many other instances. 76 This is where Hachiman would have manifested itself for the first time. Karakuni here does not refer to Korea or China, as it often does, but to the Kirishima region of Ōsumi Province in southern Kyushu. 77 On this see (Grapard, Lotus in the Mountain, Mountain in the Lotus—Rokugō Kaizan Ninmon Daibosatsu Hongi 1986); see also (Grapard, The Textualized Mountain—Enmounted Text: The Lotus Sutra in Kunisaki 1989). Both documents are available on this book’s website. 78 This may be an error and actually refer to the famed Mount Ibuki of Ōmi Province. 79 (Shigematsu 1986, 119–20). 80 I mention this problem because during the medieval period Hachiman was made to preside as oracular judge over court cases concerning land domain contestation issues. See (Zuroku—Usa, Kunisaki no Rekishi to Bunka 1981). 81 (Kuroda, Historical Consciousness and Hon-Jaku Philosophy in the Medieval Period on Mount Hiei 1989). There is no doubt that Jin’un knew of Mount Hiei’s “Chroniclers” existence. See also (Grapard, Keiranshūyōshū: A Different Perspective on Mt. Hiei in the Medieval Period 1998).

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  82 (Kuroda, Historical Consciousness and Hon-Jaku Philosophy in the Medieval Period on Mount Hiei 1989, 154).   83 (Bachelard 1964).   84 (Grapard, Geosophia, Geognosis, and Geopiety: Orders of Significance in Japanese Representations of Space 1994).   85 (Johnston, Gregory and Smith 1994).   86 On the fact that human territoriality is different from animal territoriality and has some of its roots in religious control over land, see (Sack 1986).   87 (Castoriadis 1987).   88 (Searle 1998).   89 (Searle 1998, 148–50).   90 (Castoriadis 1987, 372). Italics are mine.   91 The Taira set the Tōdaiji of Nara on fire in 1180. One would not have expected the Minamoto to not remain indifferent to the Ogata destruction of Usa, since Hachiman was the tutelary Bodhisattva of the Seiwa Genji (Minamoto) house.   92 (Nakano and Shiraishi, Fukiji 1981).   93 (Watanabe 1971).   94 Indeed, one Ōtomo is remembered as a hero who defended Kyushu against foreign invasions, while another, who shilly-­shallyed between Zen Buddhism and Christianity is still the object of debate among Japanese historians.   95 (Shiryōkan, Bungo no Kuni Togō-­shō 1988–93). The Togō land estate was managed by the Chōanji Temple.   96 Rokugō Kaizan Ninmon Daibosatsu Hongi, (Grapard, Lotus in the Mountain, Lotus in the Mountain: Rokugo Kaizan Ninmon Daiboatsu Hongi 1986).   97 (Shermer 2008).   98 Nakano Hatayoshi, Hachiman Shinkōshi no Kenkyū, pp. 720–76.   99 See Map no. 6. 100 See my translation of this document on the website of this book. 101 (Grapard, Geosophia, Geognosis, and Geopiety: Orders of Significance in Japanese Representations of Space 1994); (Grapard, Lotus in the Mountain, Lotus in the Mountain: Rokugo Kaizan Ninmon Daiboatsu Hongi 1986). And (Grapard, The Textualized Mountain—Enmounted Text: The Lotus Sutra in Kunisaki 1989). 102 (Iinuma, Chū-­kinsei Rokugōzan Jiin to Mineiri 2000). See also (Mineiri no Michi 1981). 103 See a full translation of this document on this book’s web page. 104 In (Rokugō Manzan Kankei Bunkazai Chōsa Gaiyō n.d.) Ōita-­ken Bunkazai Chōsa Hōkokusho 38 (1977), Rokugō Manzan Kankei Bunkazai Sōgō Chōsa Gaiyō 2, pp. 160–3. 105 I have been unable to see the original or the 1912 copy.

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106 My translation of this document is published by Monumenta Nipponica, and analyzed in (Grapard, The Textualized Mountain—Enmounted Text: The Lotus Sutra in Kunisaki 1989). 107 See my translation of Bakin’s text, “The Great Etiological Record of Futagoji Temple of the Rokugō Temples Conglomerate” on this book’s website. 108 Several examples are given in (Terada 1987). See also [Iinuma, Shūshō Onie to Kunisaki Rokugō Manzan 1991]. See also (Fukushima, Kunisaki no Oni-­e 1984).

4  Shattered Bodies, Statues, and the Entreaties of Truncated Memory 1 Hikosan gisō den. I am grateful to Helen Hardacre who invited me to peruse the Maruzen Meiji Microfilm Collection at Harvard University, where I found this document. 2 (Tōson 1987). Shimazaki Tōson was born in 1872 and died in 1943. Yoakemae was serially published between 1929 and 1935. The novel’s main protagonist belonged to the radical Nativist Shintō school of Hirata Atsutane, which had a major negative impact on the Ina Valley, a short distance from the writer’s hometown of Nakatsugawa, Gify Prefecture (which is slated to be a station for the Shinkansen’s new maglev trains). 3 See my translation of this document on the website for this book. 4 (Usa Kunisaki no Jiin to Bunkazai 1990). 5 (Ōdake 1984). 6 The hakama is a trouser-­like piece of clothing, such as can be seen in Aikidō and Kendō uniforms. 7 The tokin is the typical forehead cover of the yamabushi. 8 The Tathāgata Mahāvairocana, central Buddha of Esoteric Buddhism, of which the King of Sapience Fudō myōō (Acala) is a wrathful manifestation. 9 Shakujō. 10 Botan-­gesa, “Peony Robe”; the term botan (or bōtan, hōtan) was the name given to a draped, pleated vestment worn by male and female youth in the Heian period as well as during the medieval period. It is a distinctive style I have seen only in Kunisaki peregrinations. 11 See Map no. 14, which shows the route followed in 1989. 12 It should come as no surprise that the theriomorphic emblem of Tokyo’s Yasukuni shrine, which is dedicated to the spirits of all those who died in the service of the state ever since 1868, is a dove, quite far from Hachiman’s original emblem, the goshawk.

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Afterword: From Spatialities to Dislocation 1 To satisfy a requirement in Japanese Studies at the National School of Oriental Languages and Civilizations in 1968 in Paris, I also wrote a French translation of the play, not knowing I would later, much later, be interested in his persona again. It is perhaps time for scholars to write a full-­fledged historical study of En no Gyōja.

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Index A Buddha shows his form while teaching, but a kami remains without formal aspect while speaking 210 a central element in the cultural/cultic history of Japan 142 a woman was named abbess of the mountain 165 access to nature through ritualization 137 actual overlay of geographical areas with mandala templates 140 adamantine realm mandala 138, 139, 167, 196, 198, 205, 241 administrative directors (shittō) 160 Adorned Land of True Retribution (Jippō Gondo) 135 Akyūbō Sokuden 5, 143, 146, 148, 191, 195, 197, 204, 247 already awakened ones (shutsuden manda) 198 Ame no Oshihone no mikoto 183 Amida 55, 65, 66, 78, 153, 183, 192, 197, 199, 200, 232 Amoghavajra 113, 124, 125, 128, 130, 133, 203 n.56 Anrakuji 53, 73, 74, 75, 75 n.173 Anrakuji Shrine-temple complex 53, 73 anti-Buddhist sentiment 235 As the single largest landholder in Kyushu, Hachiman was everywhere 155 atsukaibō 158, 185, 194 autarchic status 168, 181, 235 Bishamonten 171, 198 Borobudur 113, 122, 123 Brahma (Bonten) 201 Buddha of Medicine 24, 25, 55, 65, 66, 118, 121, 232 Buddha of the Future 6, 24, 25, 32 n.82, 55, 69, 77, 107, 112, 115, 121, 225, 244 Buddha-eye 149, 150 Buzen Bungo Rokugōzan Hyakuhachijūsansho Reijōki 231

cereal grains stood as a clear metaphor for a social progress through rites of passage 189 Chan-zheng 80, 104 Chih-I 128, 130, 131, 132, 132 n.82, 133 Chinzei Hikosan Engi 12 n.28, 69 n.155, 70, 72, 107, 154, 155 n.92, 165, 178, 180, 228 chronotype 84, 105, 112, 115, 121, 135, 137, 143, 161, 216 chronotypical 100, 120. 123, 155, 161 Chūkan Kanmon 107 Chūyūki 73, 73 n.166, 74 combinatory cult 3, 5, 217 Compendium of Hachiman Oracles 65, 91, 95, 111 computer-generated, three- dimensional models of mandalized mountainous ranges 141 conceptualization of mountainous regions 61 confusion regarding the mandalized peregrinations 167 correlations between altitude, cleanliness, morality and desire, and salvation 136 creel (oi) 188, 190, 204 cultic and cultural systems 2, 3 cultural and cultic system xii Daigyōji shrines and water 206 Dainichi 146, 192, 193, 195, 197, 217, 225, 232, 241, 242 daisendatsu 188, 193, 241, 242 Dazaifu 8, 13, 14, 24, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 36, 37, 39, 53, 68, 73, 74, 75, 75 n.173, 139, 192, 220, 228, 229 death by stoning 203 directors of kami-related ritual duties (shin-eki bugyō) 160 dōjō (site of practice) 123, 126, 126 n.76, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 133, 146, 182

296

Index

Dōkyō 32, 33, 34, 34 n.86, 36, 37, 38, 39, 46, 47 Ekadasa-mukha 151 “Emperor” Ōjin 17, 19, 21, 22 n.52, 47, 102, 210, 228 En no Gyōja 60, 82, 105, 188, 200, 201, 227, 228, 246, 246 n.1 En no Ozunu 154, 155, 204 estates 8, 45, 47, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 58, 61, 73, 76, 78, 80, 87, 88, 95, 98, 99, 105, 116, 132, 132 n.84, 134, 159, 164, 165, 185, 206, 207, 208, 214, 217, 218, 219, 221, 222, 223, 226 five swords 106, 107, 109, 109 n.46 forty-nine caves 70, 103, 106, 114, 115, 133, 190, 195 Four Lands Boundaries 123 Four Lands Perimeter 132 Fudō myōō 55, 66, 153, 192, 203, 204, 205, 217, 232, 241 n.8, 242 Fujiwara 12, 15, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 37, 38, 41, 42, 45, 46, 52, 55, 69, 70, 71, 73, 75, 76, 77, 78, 78 n.181, 112, 124, 218, 220, 228 Fukiji Temple 54, 55, 220 Fusō Ryakki 212 Futagoji Temple 230, 233 n.107, 239, 241 Genbō 13, 13 n.31, 28, 29, 30 geognostic realm of the lotus 223 Geotyped and chronotyped, encoded, mandalized bodies 143 geotypical 100, 112, 120, 123, 137, 155, 161, 228 Golden Nail Testamentary Admonition 201 goō amulet 171, 172 Gorai Shigeru 3, 69 n.158, 73, 178. 178 n.31, 179, goshawk(s) 23, 23 n.55, 68, 103, 109, 110, 111, 151, 171, 178, 244 n.12 “Grant us the rains” (uruoi wo ataetamae) 182 Great Bodhisattva Hachiman 44, 64, 103, 209, 210, 244 Great Dipper 108

Great Mirror of the Divine Estates of the Usa Hachiman Shrine-temple Complex 54 Gukanshō 124 Gyōgyō 41, 42, 43, 44, 46, 226 gyōjagata 117, 118, 157, 169, 188, 236 Gyōkōe 85 Gyōrinshō 124, 125, 127, 128, 128 n.77, 130 Hachimen 60, 60 n.137, 96, 224, 229 Hayato 14, 18, 23, 26, 28, 31, 97 hereditary abbacy (monzeki) 45 Hikogara 190 Hikosan Gongen Reigenki 181 Hikosan Massan Cho 166 Hikosan Ruki 67, 69, 69 n.155, 69 n.158, 71, 72, 77, 77 n.179, 78, 79, 80, 103, 104, 104 n.28, 106, 107, 109, 110 n.47, 114, 115, 115 n.59, 117, 117 n.62, 120, 132, 133, 151, 152, 155, 190, 191, 191 n.42, 192, 192 n.46, 194 Hikosan Shojin’eki Shidai 157 n.1, 191, 193, 194 Hikosanki 68, 69 Himegami 21, 25, 27, 31, 43, 59, 96 Himekoso Shrine 49, 49 n.106 Himeshima Island 49, 49 n.106, 50, 88 Hirowatari Masatoshi 69 n.157, 73 n.166, 74, 74 n.170, 76 n.177, 166 n.9, 166 n.10, 167 n.11, 168 n.12 Hokke becchō-shi 124, 128, 129 Hokke mandala 128 Hokkegenki 63 Hokke-hō 120, 123, 124 Hokuto-sha 23, 111 Honchō Shinsenden 63 Honchō seiki 73 n.166 honji (“essence”) 158 honji-suijaku as a cultic and social practice 158 Hōren 17, 17 n.43, 23, 23 n.57, 24, 30, 52, 60, 65, 70, 72, 80, 81, 98, 102 n.22, 103, 104, 110, 111, 112, 178 Hōryūji Temple 24, 101 Hosokawa, Tadaoki 165 Hossō monks 29, 30, 34, 38, 62, 72, 112 Huiguo 113 Ima-Kumano 76, 79, 192

Index immanentist program 152 incipient Buddhas (zaiden manda) 198 Indra (Taishakuten) 201 inscription of both doctrinal and social power 158 intercessors (atsukaibō) 158, 185 Intermediate Temples 66 iroshi (yin) 157, 174 Iwashimizu Hachiman 38, 40, 41, 43, 46, 47, 49, 64, 73, 74, 76, 78, 81, 87, 88, 100, 105, 226, 228 Izanagi no mikoto 183 Jichin 124, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 218 Jin’un 208, 209, 210, 210 n.66, 210 n.67, 211, 212, 212 n.75 213, 214, 214 n.81, 216 Jinben 246 Jingoji 39, 39 n.94 Jingū Kōgō 20, 21, 31 n.78, 43, 67, 228, 232 jingūji 25, 29, 29 n.72, 30, 62, 64, 65, 66, 96, 97 jinin (“kami-men”) 52, 159 Jinkoshū,“Materials Collected in a Jar of Ashes” 165 Jūichimen Kannon 119, 153, 198, 232 jun as “recto” and gyaku as “verso” 195 n.49 Kami of Uga 154 “Kami Soldiers” (shinpei) 237 kamikaze 88, 209, 223, 244 Karashima 17, 18, 23 n.54, 25, 32, 37, 43, 47, 49, 67, 96, 97, 98, 219 katabako 205 katanashi (yang) 157, 174 kekkai 76, 115, 116, 123 kishōmon 173 kissho shūgi 173 Kōbō Daishi, (774–835) xi, xvi, 39, 232 Kōfukuji Temple 187, 191 kōgi 32 n.84, 79, 88, 202, 204, 221 Kojiki 10, 12 n.27, 15 n.33, 19, 20, 21, 21 n.50, 22, 25, 35, 35 n.88, 49, 49 n.105, 50 n.109, 68 n.152, 90 n.11, 100, 107 n.36, 122 n.70, 211, 213 Komo Shrine 86, 90, 93, 95, 96, 97, 99 Kōyasan 107 Kubote 60, 60 n.137, 97, 207, 224, 229 Kūkai (Kōbō Daishi) xi, xvi, 39, 39 n.94, 61, 62, 62 n.140, 62 n.141, 107, 113, 124

297

Kumano 6, 54, 60, 72, 73, 75, 76, 79, 81, 82, 105, 106, 107, 132, 167, 171, 172, 173, 178, 178 n.34, 179, 191, 192, 193, 195 n.49, 196, 199, 200, 203, 217, 224 Kunisaki xii, xiii, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 11, 14, 23 n.55, 24, 31, 39, 48, 49, 49 n.106, 50, 50 n.111, 51, 53 n.118, 54, 55, 55 n.125, 56, 57, 58, 59, 59 n.134, 59 n.136, 60, 63, 64, 64 n.143, 65, 66, 76, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 88, 93, 95, 97, 98, 105, 111, 132, 155, 161, 170, 191, 193, 207, 213, 213 n.77, 214 n.80, 216, 217, 218, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 228, 228 n.101, 229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 233 n.106, 233 n.108, 239, 240, 240 n.4, 241, 242, 242 n.10, 243, 244, 245 Kuroda Toshio xiv, 1 n.2, 2 n.5, 9 n.19, 39, 43, 46 n.102, 75 n.174, 173, 173 n.23, 214, 214 n.81, 214 n.82 Land of Permanent Quiescent Radiance (Jōjakkōdo) 135 Land of Co-habitation of Anchorites and Commoners (Bonshō dōgodo) 133 Last Temples 66 lay patron sponsorship of Mount Hiko 165 lay patrons 159, 160, 184, 208, 235, 238 Lingyin-ssu 107, 107 n.36 located the various divinities [of the two mandalas] on high peaks and dusky vales 201 lordly raiments 87, 88, 95, 97, 99, 100, 101, 103 Lotus Blossom Ritual xiii, 120, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 129, 131, 132, 133, 137 Lotus Sutra 28, 56, 63, 63 n.142, 80, 91, 93, 102, 104, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 151, 157, 182, 213 n.77, 216, 220, 224, 225, 226, 227, 228, 229, 233 n.106, 238 Mahāvairocana 124, 131, 138, 146, 182, 197, 198, 205, 241 n.8 main temple with autarchic status” (bekkaku honzan) 168 maintenance officers (saji bugyō) 160 Maitreya xiii, 6, 7, 24, 25, 77, 102, 107, 107 n.36, 112, 113, 114, 115, 133, 137, 147, 191

298

Index

mandalization xii, xii n.2, xiii, 132, 137, 140, 140 n.85, 155, 191, 192, 193, 229, 233 mandalized courses exactly followed the water divides of northeast Kyushu 208 matrix realm mandala 138, 139, 167, 198, 205, 227, 241 Matsue 157, 178, 179, 180, 181, 183, 189, 236 Mimicked pregnancy at the time of food offerings 186 Minamoto 32 n.181, 54, 73, 76, 77, 78, 88, 192, 216, 217, 217 n.91, 220, 221 mineiri 176 n.30, 179, 180, 190, 191, 193, 194, 199, 230, 230 n.102 Mineiri: the mandalized peregrinations 190 Mirokuji Temple 24, 29, 32 n.82, 37, 54, 56, 64, 65, 69, 73, 73 n.167, 74, 88, 104 n.27, 223, 226, 243 Misaki Ryōshū xiv, 129 mishirushi 85, 86 Miura Baien 10 Miyake Hitoshi 3, 71, 191 Mongol invasions of 1274 and 1281 223 monzeki 45, 80, 104, 132, 165, 166, 167, 179, 180, 194 Mori 165 Mount Aso 151, 152, 183 n.36, 186, 191 Mount Fukuchi 8, 139, 167, 191, 194, 196, 198, 200, 203, 207, 229 Mount Hiko as socio-ritualized space 157 Mount Hiko’s quasi-destruction 235 Mount Hōman 8, 13, 31, 62, 73, 74, 75, 139, 166, 167, 168, 168 n.13, 189, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 198, 199, 200, 203, 207, 229 Mount Kawara 17, 31, 67, 68 Mount Omoto 8, 23, 27, 56, 63, 65, 82, 105, 111, 193, 212, 229, 230, 241, 244 Mount Tiantai 106, 107 n.36 Mount Yayama (site of the Chōanji Temple) 223 “mountain overseers” (yama bugyō) 160 Munakata 10, 11, 16, 25, 63, 66, 68, 69 Murayama Shūichi xiv, 2 Museum of Theater located at Waseda University in Tokyo 246 Nada Hachiman Shrine 93, 94, 98, 244

Nagano Tadashi xiv, 68, 69 n.155, 71 n.163, 236 Nāgārjuna 149, 150 n.89, 154 Nagatomi Hisae 16 Nakano Hatayoshi xiv, 17, 17 n.40, 17 n.42, 17 n.43, 18 n.44, 21, 25 n.60, 26 n.65, 27, 37 n.92, 37 n.93, 46 n.103, 55 n.126, 55 n.127, 57 n.132, 57 n.133, 59, 64, 64 n.143, 64 n.145, 73 n.165, 73 n.169, 76, 76 n.178, 167 n.11, 208, 226, 226 n.98 Nakatomi 12, 13, 15, 16, 36, 37 Nativist Studies movement (Kokugaku) 158 nefugyō 80, 104, 157, 169, 185 “neither recto nor verso” (jungyaku funi) 139 nenban (“yearly duty”) 160 Nihon Ryōiki 1 n.1, 16, 30, 60, 60 n.138 Nihon Shoki 10, 12, 12 n.27, 12 n.28, 13, 13 n.30, 15, 15 n.33, 16, 19, 20, 21, 21 n.50, 22, 25, 28, 28 n.68, 35, 35 n.89, 49, 49 n.106, 49 n.107, 49 n.108, 68 n.152, 100, 178, 183 n.36, 211 n.70, 212, 213 Nikkō 61, 62, 89, 105, 118, 164, 191, 211 n.75 Ninmon 58, 59, 60, 65, 65 n.148, 97, 98, 99, 213 n.77, 220, 224, 225, 225 n.96, 228, 228 n.101, 230, 231, 233 nocturnal architecture 105, 121 non-differentiation between oneself and others (jita funi) 169 Oda Nobunaga 162 Ōdake Junkō 241 Ōga 17, 17 n.43, 18, 19, 23, 23 n.54, 26, 32, 32 n.82, 34, 36, 37, 43, 44, 47, 55 n.127, 88, 98, 206, 208, 210, 219, 228 Ōga no Higi 17, 17 n.43, 18, 23, 97, 111, 209, 210, 213 Ogata Koreyoshi 208, 219, 220, 221 Ogata warlords 192, 217, 219 Ōmiwa 17, 17 n.41, 17 n.43, 18, 19, 23 n.54, 27, 32, 34 Onda 174, 177, 179, 180, 183 n.36, 184, 185 Ondasai 157, 180, 181, 183 n.36, 189 Onizuka kofun 50 Onjōji Temple 81, 105, 124

Index Oracular pronouncements as divine directives 34 oracular spatialities 208 Oshihone-no-mikoto 67, 68 Ōtomo 72, 78 n.181, 79, 96, 164, 196, 197, 221, 222, 222 n.94, 223 Ōtomo Yoshinao 78, 78 n.181, 221 Painted Scrolls of Mount Hiko Shugendō 180 perspectives on time and space 84 Pierre Bourdieu’s superior understanding of the logic of practice 206 plastromancy 26, 37 pollution 36, 61, 102, 103, 135, 136, 147, 152, 153 Practices in the mountains 201 present as the very moment of spiritual emancipation 161 Primary Temples 65 Pure Land of Expedient Means (Hōben Uyodo) 131, 134 Regulations (hatto) 163 regulations determining types of experience and modalities of social life 133 relative and absolute consciousness 138 relative and absolute speech 138 relative and absolute substance 138 Renge zanmai kyō 203, 204 reversal of the metaphorical relation between the actual world and 138 rhododendrons, Mount Hiko’s sacred flowers 188 ritual calendar(s) 161, 163, 168, 169, 169 n.14, 174, 174 n.28, 233 ritual circumambulation 117, 122, 157 ritual protection 11, 42, 43, 44, 53, 204, 223 rituals also served to maintain social hierarchies 161 rituals performed in these sites of cult was predominantly spatially oriented and orienting 161 Rokugō 56, 57, 59, 66, 213 n.77, 223, 224, 225, 225 n.96, 226, 228 n.101, 230, 231, 231 n.104, 233, 233 n.107, 233 n.108, 242 Rokurokutsū Injin 198

299

Ryōsenji 79, 80, 103, 104 Ryōzenji 65 Ryūzōji 164 sacred space was a thoroughly managed social space 161 Saichō 39, 56, 80, 104, 124 Saiei-zan massif 223 Samguk Yusa 71, 71 n.162 sanctioning power and rank 173 sanji kingyō (triple duty) 203 sanjō shakujō rite 203 Sanpō Sōshō Hōsoku Mikki 191, 195, 196 n.50 Sarasvatī 154 Schafer, Edward 108, 108 n.37, 108 n.38, 108 n.40, 108 n.41, 108 n.44, 109, 109 n.45, 109 n.46, 110, 110 n.48, 110 n.49, 110 n.50, 111 scholarly yamabushi (gakutō) 185 sedonagatoko 157 Seiōbo, “Queen Mother of the West” 188 “self and others are not two” (Jita Funi) 140 sendatsu rank 193 Senju Kannon 66, 118, 119, 120, 183, 192, 232 separate sacerdotal from political and economic power 164 seventy-two 107, 117, 118, 122, 123 shiishi 76 Shimazaki Tōson 239, 239 n.2 Shimazu 164 shin’eki bugyō 181 Shingon 2, 39, 41, 42, 61, 64, 65, 101, 107, 124, 126, 137, 162, 166, 200, 226, 227, 232, 246 shioitori rite 174 shitogata 157, 158, 169, 194, 202, 236 shittan xvi, 192, 195 n.49, 196, 198 Shōgo-in 64, 72, 76, 76 n.176, 80, 105, 132, 166, 167, 168, 179, 180 Shoku Nihongi 14, 16, 16 n.38, 17 n.43, 19, 19 n.45, 28 n.69, 28 n.70, 29, 31, 32, 32 n.83, 36 n.91 Shozan Engi 30, 30 n.76, 72, 107, 107 n.36, 192, 227 shrine-temple complexes 1, 9 n.20, 25, 32 n.83, 45, 46, 46 n.103, 52, 53, 74, 75, 76, 88, 99, 102, 108, 171, 217, 218, 219, 229

300

Index

shrine-temple overseer (jisha bugyō) 167 Shugen 1 n.1, 2 n.6, 60 n.137, 145 n.87, 204 n.58, 205 n.59, 247 Shugendō Shōso 191, 246 Shugendō Shōso Kaidai 191, 191 n.44 Shugendō Shūyō Hiketsu 143 Shugenshū 247 Shūshō goō 171 shushō tsuina 170 shuto 73, 74, 75 site of non-differentiation of the Matrix and Adamantine [realms] 198 sōgata 117, 118, 122, 123, 157, 158, 159, 169, 174, 177, 182, 184, 185, 194, 236 space and time categories 83 spatial choreography. See also temporal rhythm 85 spatial knowledge 3 spatialities xiii spatiality 162, 169, 176, 205, 214 status of women in shrines 34 Sugawara no Michizane 75, 75 n.173, 174 n.27 suijaku (“hypostasis”) 158 Sumiyoshi 10, 10 n.24, 11, 19 symbolic birth 189 symbolic goods were necessary to the production of material goods ff170 systematic symbolic correlations between Buddhist doctrine and the 116 taimitsu 2, 63, 75, 76, 80, 81, 105, 166, 227, 229 Taira 53, 54, 77, 78, 88, 192, 208, 216, 217, 217 n.91, 219, 220 Takeshiuchi no Sukune 35, 46, 49 Takizawa Bakin 233, 239 Tale of the Heike (Heike Monogatari) 219 Tamaya 29 n.72, 79, 103, 110, 115 Tamukeyama Shrine 32, 36 Tarō tendō 228, 232 Tashibu estate 54, 55, 93 temporal rhythm 85 Tendai 2, 39, 42, 56, 64, 65, 72, 80, 89, 101, 103 n.26, 104, 105, 106, 113 n.56, 118, 123, 124, 125 n.75, 126, 132, 133, 137, 144, 167, 180, 191, 200, 223, 224, 226, 227, 232, 246, 247

territoriality 5, 100, 155, 212, 214, 215, 215 n.86 territory 21, 22, 22 n.52, 43, 48, 59, 61, 88, 102, 103, 205, 209, 244 Testamentary Admonition of the Founding Patriarch 201 the Diamond within the Matrix 198 The mountain ranges [extending from] Mount Hiko are the sacred spaces of the mandalas of the two realms [Matrix and Diamond] 201 the order to destroy the Buddhas had come from the very top of the nation and therefore could not be defied 238 three dimensional mandala xiii three mineiri ascetic peregrinations that became the hallmark of Mount Hiko’s Shugendō and were copied around the country 193 three-dimensional mandala 8, 135 three-dimensional model of the mountain 238 Tōdaiji 29, 30, 31, 32, 36, 39, 85, 100, 113, 208, 213, 217 n.91 tokogatame 146, 147, 148, 202 tokosadame 147 Tokuzen-ō 154, 154 n.91 tōmitsu, 2, 75 Toyotomi Hideyoshi 162 Tsubouchi Shōyō 246 Tsukaguchi Yoshinobu 27 Tsurugaoka Hachimangū 78 twenty-eight 26 n.63, 28 n.68, 56, 57, 66, 76, 97, 110, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 200, 210, 217, 220, 223, 224, 225, 227, 229, 230 Usa xii, xiii, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 16 n.34, 16 n.39, 17, 17 n.43, 18, 19, 19 n.45, 20, 21, 22, 23, 23 n.57, 24, 24 n.59, 25, 25 n.62, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 32 n.82, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 44 n.97, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 52, 53, 53 n.118, 53 n.119, 54, 54 n.124, 55, 55 n.125, 55 n.127, 56, 57, 58, 59, 59 n.136, 60, 60 n.137, 62, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 72, 73, 74, 76, 78, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 90,

Index 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 102 n.22, 103, 104, 104 n.27, 105, 111, 112, 114, 125 n.75, 130 n.80, 154 n.91, 155, 159, 161, 191, 192, 207, 208, 209, 210, 212, 213, 217, 219, 220, 221, 223, 226, 228, 229, 230, 240, 240 n.4, 241, 243, 244, 245 vajra 86, 107, 121, 149 n.88, 152, 182, 224, 225 Vajrabodhi 113 Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa Sūtra 128, 130 violence 14, 48, 75, 103 Vision, space, and ritual together produced the contents (and limits) of the yamabushi’s experience 149

301

Waiting for dawn on Mount Hiko 112 Wakamiya Shrine 26, 64, 93, 96 Wake no Kiyomaro 33, 37, 39, 39 n.94, 48 Wang-tzu Jin 106 warlords of the Ogata house 217 water divides (bunsui rei) 207 water-share shrines (mikumari jinja) 116, 207 Yahata 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 32 n.82, 33, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39 n.94, 41, 42, 43, 47, 95, 213 Zaō gongen 200 zasu 65, 160 Zōkei 73, 177, 178, 179