Jul 15, 2020
This episode we are back in the Chronicles and going through the
attempts by the High Plain of Heaven to pacify the land so that
they could send the Divine Descendant down to rule over it.
This would be perfect if it just weren't for the fact that, well,
there were already people there. But that has rarely stopped people
in the past.
We'll go over the various attempts to send different kami down to
subdue the land until finally they send kami that aren't going to
just set up shop down in the earthly realm, and they gain the
submission of The Great Land Master himself. Spoiler
alert: Yamato eventually wins.
For more go to: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-21
Rough Transcript
Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 21: Ceding the Land of the Central Reed Plains.
And before we get started, a big shout-out and thank you to Brian for helping to support the show. If you wish to do the same you can go to ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo or you can find the link at the bottom of our website, sengokudaimyo.com. Now, on with the show.
So after our brief foray into the land of Izumo, let us return to the stories of the Yamato court. In fact, we’re going to switch our perspective in the Chronicles, now, from Izumo culture hero, Ohonamochi, back to the Gods of Heaven. In the Nihon Shoki, this is actually the start of the next section of the chronicles—the second section on the Age of the Gods. The Kojiki is less dramatic, as the chapters are smaller, and the Kyujiki is made up of various books, each with a particular purpose, that often retell the details of the same stories, just from a different context. But in just about all of them this next part is quite similar, as it focuses on the story that is most near and dear to the heart of Yamato: The descent of the royal line.
So there are a few discrepancies between the sources. I’m going to try to start off with the most complete version of events, and we’ll talk about it after each section. But let’s dive in.
So our scene moves back to the High Plain of Heaven, Takama no Hara, where we find Amaterasu Ohomikami as well as someone else we talked about previously, Takami Musubi, one of the ancient high kami created even before Izanagi and Izanami and who is apparently ruling in Takama no Hara as well. One day, Amaterasu decides that she would like her son, Masakatsu Akatsu Kachi Hayahi Ama no Oshihomimi no Mikoto, to rule over the Land of the Central Reed Plains. You remember Masakatsu Aktsu… screw it, let’s just call him Oshihomimi. Anyway, he was one of the children born of the contest between Amaterasu and Susanowo, back when he came up to say his farewells. So Amaterasu wants her son, Oshihomimi, to go down and rule the Central Land of the Reed Plains. Oshihomimi went down to the Heavenly Floating Bridge to see what he was getting himself into, and it didn’t look good. The whole land was in an uproar, and it was hardly a civilized place. He went back up to Amaterasu and Takami Musubi and reported what he’d seen, and they gathered all of the Kami in the heavenly riverbed, where they asked Omohikane just what they should do.
Now you may remember Omohikane, whose name literarlly refers to thinking about things. He was the one that came up with the rituals to bring Amaterasu back out into the world when she had hidden herself away in the Heavenly Rock Cave. Now here he was again, being called on to once again come up with a solution.
Thus, Omoikane, the big thinker of the group, suggested that they send Ame no Hohi no Kami, another one of those offspring from the contest between Amaterasu and Susanowo, and the ancestor of the Izumo no Omi. Omoikane recommended him for this job because he was “superior”—you know, just a good solid kami. His job was to scout out the land and prepare it for Oshihomimi. Except after going down, he fails to report back for three years, so they sent his son, Ohoseihi, to check on him and see what was going on, but he didn’t return, either.
Turns out that, much like Lawrence in Arabia, they had both fallen in with Ohonamuchi and gone native. Or at least that is what the Yamato histories say. The Izumo no Omi, who claim descent from Ame no Hohi no Kami, tell it a little different. Their version of events is specifically laid out in the Kamuyogoto—a special rite of fealty recited by the titular chief of Izumo, Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko, in a ceremony that continued to be practiced even after their chief had been relegated to simply the Chief Priest of Izumo Shrine. In that ritual, the whole story is told a little differently. First off, the ritual cuts out Amaterasu altogether, and it has Takami Musubi and Kamu Musubi no Mikoto yielding Japan to the Heavenly Grandchild, which probably relates to an older tradition—one from before the late 7th and early 8th centuries. Second, it is much more favorable to the Izumo no Omi’s ancestral kami, Ame no Hohi. Felicia Bock provides an English version in her translation of Books 1-10 of the Engi Shiki, and it is probably best to just read straight from there to give you a complete picture. It goes something like this:
“When those ancestral kami of the High Heaven, Takami-musubi and Kamu-musubi-no-mikoto, yielded the Great Country of Many Islands to the divine descendant, the distant ancestor of the nobles of Izumo, Ame-no-ho-hi-no-mikoto, was sent to inquire the condition of the land. He pushed asunder the many-layered clouds of heaven, and, flying through the heaven and over the land, he viewed all the lands under heaven and brought back an answer, saying: ‘The land of rich rice-ears growing in the reedy plains in the daytime buzzes with flies as in early summer, and in the nighttime there are kami who shine like fire-pots. Everywhere sounds from the rocks, the tree-stumps and the bubbles of foam on blue waters are heard as they talk in this restless land. Nevertheless, I shall calm and pacify it, and I shall cause the divine descendant to rule it as a pleasant and peaceful country.’”
As we can see, the Izumo no Omi were claiming that their ancestral deity, Ame no Ho Hi, was no slacker, but he stayed on mission the entire time. Interestingly, there does not appear to have been any objection to this contradiction of the official narrative—after all, even if the theology was different, this was still an oath that acknowledged the supremacy of the Yamato dynasty and their authority to rule, so a little self-aggrandizement from the Izumo no Omi was permitted. It does raise some questions, a few of which we’ve already asked: Were Takami Musubi and Kamu Musubi originally the High Gods of Heaven? The suggestion has been made that they may actually represent pre-agricultural concepts and so they could easily have been part of some earlier pantheon, or perhaps they were part of the original Izumo gods and their stories were merged with Yamato whenever the Kizuki and Miwa cults were entwined together. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough of their stories to really know, just these glimpses here and there in the record. Clearly Takami Musubi was important, however: in fact, in the main story of the Nihon Shoki it is Takami Musubi directing everything, and the focus is much more clearly on his lineage than Amaterasu’s, though the Heavenly Grandchild that gets sent down is inevitably descended from both of them in all cases.
Anyway, for now let’s take the side of the Yamato court and assume that Ame no Ho Hi was a slacker who went native, leaving the Takama no Hara high and dry.
And so once again they gathered up all the deities and looked around for who they should send down. Now in the Kojiki, they say they again listen to Omoikane, because he was so on the nose about Ame no Ho Hi, but in all the other sources it just says that the assembled gods made a recommendation. And who was it that they thought would be fit for this task, where Ame no Ho Hi had failed? Why, they recommended Ame no Waka Hiko—whose name translates to, essentially, the Young Prince of Heaven. So they armed him with a bow and a set of arrows and sent him down to the earth to prepare the way, and afterhe left, they waited. They clearly expected this would take some time.
Of course, you know how you sometimes leave that pot of pasta on the stove for just a moment, and the next thing you know it is boiling over and starchy water is burning on the stove? Well, that seems to be what happened here, but rather than a couple of minutes, eight years went by—which probably just means that many years went by—and they realized they had heard nothing back. Even with Ame no Ho Hi they had reached out after three years. So Amaterasu and Takami Musubi consulted with Omohikane about just what they should do. This time, Omohikane came up with a new ploy: animal messengers. I guess in a time before TV they didn’t have talk shows to teach them that animal acts rarely go the way you want them to.
Nonetheless, Omohikane suggested a dove and a male pheasant, who was called “Nanashi”, or “no name”—early Japanese naming practices are actually rather spot-on and perhaps lacking, at times, in the creativity department.. They were sent down with a message, like owls to Hogwarts—though in this case hungry and easily distracted owls. Because as the dove and male pheasant flew down through the clouds, over the land, they saw the fresh millet, and rice, and all the other grains, and they just couldn’t help themselves. They stopped for a snack and forgot their mission. Even the animal messengers were going native—this was truly a disaster?
Omohikane had to redeem himself, and so he rushes to cover his mistake. Not by taking a different tact, though—why in the world would he do such a silly thing as that? No, instead he doubles down on the animal messenger theme and suggested they try one more time, but this time they would send a female pheasant, named Nakime—the Crying Woman. Unlike the other two layabouts, she avoided any temptation of food and made her way to the front gate of Ame no Waka Hiko’s home. She set herself up amidst the heart-shaped leaves of a nearby Katsura tree, and there she called out the message from Takama no Hara that Ame no Waka Hiko was to report back in immediately.
Of course, she was outside of his gates, presumably because she was trying to be polite—I’m pretty sure that Z Frank has covered how impeccably polite pheasants are, hasn’t he?—so Ame no Waka Hiko didn’t actually hear Nakime. Instead, one of his servants, Ame no Sagume heard it and she rushed in to tell him about it.
Now you see the truth was that, after all this time, Ame no Waka Hiko had made a pretty good life for himself down here in the earthly realm. He had come down from Heaven and he quickly fell in love with Shitateru Hime, a daughter of Utsushi Kunidama—an earthly kami also known to us as our good friend Ohonamuchi. Yup. Ame no Waka Hiko had followed in Ame no Ho Hi’s footsteps, going native and even marrying into the enemy camp, and now he was living the good life. He had made friends and generally seemed to be enjoying himself. If he went back to Heaven and reported they would realize that he had set aside his duty to subdue the Central Land of the Reed Plains. This is why he needed to do something about the pheasant screaming its head off outside of his front gates.
And so, for perhaps the first time since he had arrived down in the earthly realm, Ame no Waka Hiko picked up his heavenly gifts, the bow and arrows, and went outside, where he could see Nakime sitting in the Katsura tree. Taking careful aim, he fired his bow at the feathered messenger. The arrow hit its mark, but the shot was so powerful that it went through Nakime and continued to fly up, up—all the way up to the High Plain of Heaven itself. There it sank into the ground at Takami Musubi’s feet.
Startled, Takami Musubi picked up the arrow and immediately recognized it as one of the arrows he had given to Ame no Waka Hiko, now covered in blood. Takami Musubi wondered what such an omen might mean—was Waka Hiko busy fighting the kami of the earth, as he was supposed to be doing? Or was there something more ominous? Nakime still hadn’t returned, after all, which was certainly suspicious.
And so Takami Musubi put a spell upon the arrow, you know, as you do. If Waka Hiko really was fighting with evil deities, he would be safe, but if he had fired the arrow with some ill intent, it would return back to him and punish him. Takami Musubi then tossed the arrow back through the hole it had made in the clouds and it traveled back to earth. As it turns out, Ame no Waka Hiko had just lay down after the Niinamesai, or Feast of the First Fruits, when suddenly the arrow struck him in the chest, and he died.
From this incident comes the phrase that one should “fear a returning arrow”, which was already well known by the 8th century.
Now Waka Hiko’s wife, Shitateru Hime, cried and wept over his death, and his parents sent a wind to blow his body back up to Heaven for his funeral. The Chronicles then go into some depth as to just how this funeral unfolded. In fact, this is one of the first real descriptions that we have of a funeral at this time.
First off, they built a mortuary house—a temporary structure for the body to reside in as part of the mogari ritual. The body would be laid out here before being buried, and though we talk about it being temporary, it may have been 3 to 6 months, but it could also be for several years. In the Kofun period, this probably provided time to build a burial mound, if the deceased warranted such. This idea of temporary burial appears to go back in Japan all the way to the Jomon period, where we see but also has elements in common with the Chinese and Korean—specifically Baekje—traditions. In all actuality I the specific rites mentioned in the Chronicles were probably a combination of traditions that evolved over the centuries.
Along with erecting a building purely for the temporary interment of the corpse, there were then the various rites, requiring a myriad of individual participants. There were the food bearers, and the feast bearers, and the rice pounders. Then there were the mourners, female and male—though female mourners seem more common, including, it seems, special dancers, in the tradition of Ama no Uzume. There were also cleaners, possibly to sweep and purify; weavers to sew the garments for the ritual; not to mention people to bear the various and “spirit receptacles”, who may have had a role as a type of medium, to represent the deceased. Together, along with the family, they would wail, mourn, and sing for 8 days and 8 nights.
Amidst all of these preparations and ceremonies for Ame no Waka Hiko, a figure walked into the celebrations, and, by the sound of it, things just about came to a stop. Like an ancient record scratch, Ame no Waka Hiko’s father and his wife both cried out, for this stranger was nothing if not the spitting image of the dead Ame no Waka Hiko. They were overjoyed that their son and husband was alive once more and clung to his hands and feet.
However, their hopes were dashed as the stranger pulled away. He was not, in fact, the resurrected form of the deceased, but rather he was Shitateru Hime’s brother--and let’s not even get into the fact that Shitateru Hime married someone who looked exactly like her brother—and he had met Waka Hiko when he had come down to the Land of the Central Reed Plains. Over the years, the two had become extremely close, such that this friend had made the journey all the way to Takama no Hara for the funeral. His name was Ajisukitaka Hikone, and they say he really did look just like Waka Hiko, assuming one could even make him out—one account claims that his glory was so bright that it illuminated the space of two hills and two valleys. Regardless, being mistaken for his dead friend whom he had come to mourn was just too much—he was insulted and disgusted, and drew out his sword, Ohogari, in anger. He cut down the temporary interment house, collapsing the whole thing and putting a sudden end to the festivities. By the way, they say that the remains of that building become the Mourning Mountain, aka Mo-yama, just above the Ayumi River in Mino. Traditionally this is believed to be in Gifu, just east of Sekigahara, near the site of the old residence of the Nagoya Domain leadership and modern Tarui station.
Alright, so the kami sent down Ame no Ho Hi, and he went native. Then they sent Ame Waka Hiko, and he went native. But they still needed to establish a foothold. So what did they do next?
Well, what else? Called the kami together and ask for yet another council. I swear that their answer to just about anything is a committee, which is more than a little interesting considering the top-down nature of later Japanese bureaucracy. Could these constant councils be evidence of an earlier, human tradition in the archipelago? One that looked for consensus? It would certainly seem to fit with the idea that Himiko, and her successors, were somehow selected by the people, not simply granted position by the accident of their birth. At the very least they seem to be attempting to demonstrate some early form of inclusive leadership. But I digress.
So Amaterasu asked the collected deities just whom they should dispatch, and they told her that it should either be Itsu no Ohabari no Kami or his descendant, Takemikazuchi no Kami.
Now if you’d been reading along at all, but if Itsu no Ohabari sounds familiar, that’s because this deity actually made an earlier appearance: As Izanagi’s sword. Of course, this is not uncommon in the world of kami—rocks, trees, mountains, and just about anything else could be a kami. This is particularly true of things owned by people or deities.
And of course his son, such as he was, was Takemikazuchi. He was actually born from the blood that ran off of Izanagi’s sword—that is, that ran off of Ohabari—when Izanagi slew Kagutsuchi, the fire god whose birth took the life of Izanami.
So what had Ohabari been doing all this time? Well apparently he lived in the Heavenly Rock Cave—I guess after Amaterasu was finished hiding in there he decided it would be a good place to move in. Ohabari also seems to have been a bit of a troublemaker, as they say that he dammed up the Heavenly Yasu River—the Ame no Yasugawa—and thus barred the way between Heaven and Earth, and so the deities sent someone to check it out. When they told Ohabari that he had been recommended to go down to the earth and subdue the kami, Ohabari declined and suggested Takemikazuchi would be the better candidate. After all, Ohabari may have been a literal sword, but Take Mikazuchi was a brave warrior god of thunder—just without the flying hammer. And that settled it--Take Mikazuchi would go down, instead.
Oh, and about the whole thing regarding the river? They just conveniently leave that out. It isn’t even mentioned again. Maybe it is part of some other story, or maybe it will have consequences later, but for now it seems to have been dropped. Presumably he stopped, as Ohabari said he would obey the commands of Amaterasu, but like so much with the kami it is not explicit.
So Takemikazuchi started to get ready to go down to earth and start clean house.
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the Heavenly Plain, Takami Musubi was also calling everyone together and asking who should be sent down to subdue the Central Land of the Reed Plains—you know, Japan. Well, either this was a different set of “everyone” than previously or nobody wanted to mention that Amaterasu had already asked them for a name, and rather than give him the same answer as before, they suggest a second kami: Futsunushi no kami.
Now “Futsu” is supposedly the sound a sword makes as it cuts through the air: the tachi-kaze, as they say, the sword wind. And you can just about hear it: “Fut!” “Put!”. Nushi means master, so Futsunushi implies that he was a master of the sword—or at least a master of a sword cutting through the air.
As soon as Takemikazuchi heard that Futsunushi was going down too, he threw a bit of a fit. After all, wasn’t he worthy? Was he not a hero? Were they not amused? Oh, sorry, wrong bit.
Anyway, yeah, they ended up sending them both down to pacify the land. Which was probably for the best—sending them down one at a time hadn’t really been working out up to this point.
Or at least, that’s how the Kujiki tells it, which seems to be almost a mishmash of the different stories. The Nihon Shoki has a similar version of events: The gods chose Futsunushi, and as he was departing, Takemikazuchi asked why he shouldn’t go as well. In the Kojiki, there is no mention of Futsunushi whatsoever, and Take Mikazuchi went down with Ame no Torifune, the Heavenly Bird Boat. The Kujiki is probably drawing from the same sources as both the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki, and weaving them together. In contrast, the Kamuyogoto of Izumo has no mention of Takemikazuchi at all, but both it and the Izumo Fudoki mention Futsunushi.
Trying to make sense of all of this, I can only assume that Futsunushi was part of some earlier story—probably one associated with Takami Musubi and Kamu Musubi, and before Amaterasu was really in the picture. Takemikazuchi, on the other hand, seems tied to the story of Amaterasu. Regardless, by the 8th century the stories were all mixed up together, and Takemikazuchi and Futsunushi had become intertwined. Even today, these deities are often found together or near one another, such as at the famous shrines of Katori and Kashima, and various sword schools claim a relationship to them in some way, shape or form.
And so the two were sent down to subdue the land—taking out an evil star god, Ame no Kagasewo, along the way. Not entirely sure why he’s even mentioned, but it likely meant something to the people back then. Anyway, they headed down to the land of Izumo, landing at Itasa Beach, near Kizuki, where they went straight away to see Ohokuninushi himself. They walked up to him and immediately explained why they were there.
Now, I can’t help but see this whole next part as some kind of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure type story. These two gods of war strolled up from the beach, found Ohokuninushi and then planted their swords into the ground and sat there, cross-legged, upon them. Now maybe it is just lost over the years and in translation—perhaps there was something where they actually sat on their swords as evidence they weren’t going to use them, or perhaps plunging their swords upright into the earth was a clear indication that they were armed and ready for a fight if it came to that. But that certainly isn’t how it reads: It sounds like they literally sat on their upright swords as if they were bar stools.
Ohokuninushi, for his part, took this as a clear threat, and so he was wary, but agreed to listen to their demands. They lay out their case—that the High God of Heaven—whether Takami Musubi or Amaterasu, it depends on the source—wanted their descendant to rule the Central Land of the Reed Plains, and if Ohokuninushi would just hand over control willingly, the other earthly deities would surely submit.
Ohokuninushi begged their pardon and requested they send for one of his sons, Kotoshiro Nushi, to ask him his advice on this matter. Unfortunately Kotoshiro Nushi was out hunting and finishing at the Cape of Miho, along the northern edge of the Izumo peninsula, so someone would need to go find him. In some stories this was Ame no Torifune, the Bird Boat of Heaven who came down with Takemikazuchi, but in others it is a local “swift boat” that was sent—swift boat referring to a boat with more oarsmen and thus could ply the waters faster than most, and not to some Vietnam era PCF. Either way they found Kotoshiro Nushi and explained to him the Heavenly request.
Now Kotoshiro Nushi seems to have been the Izumo equivalent of Omohikane no Kami. Some suggest that his name, Kotoshiro, refers to “thinking thoughts”, and he appears to represent the more esoteric or intellectual arguments. He may represent some office or group that was in charge of oracular pronouncements in Izumo Of course, Kotoshironushi hears the decree from Heaven and immediately decides that yes, they should clear the way for Heaven’s descendants—and if Ohokuninushi cedes the land without a fight it will be as they said, and the other deities will indeed capitulate as well.
And as soon as he says this he makes his own bizarre move: standing on the bow of the ship, he makes an enclosure of green branches, and then he performs a “reverse clap” and leaps off the bow of the boat, becoming concealed, a term that is often used in the Chronicles to imply that they had died.It softens the harshness of the tragedy. You know—like you could tell your child: Rover’s not dead, he’s just concealed himself, and now we’re playing the longest game of Hide-and-Seek ever.
So this would seem to be a suicide, though later we get evidence that, unlike Izanami, Kotoshiro Nushi is still around, just not in the realm of men. Some believe that “becoming concealed” may have just been a term for leaving the visible realm and becoming invisible—conveniently explaining why you don’t see kami in the world today like they were back during the Chronicles. I would also suppose that concealing oneself may refer to the death of a corporeal form—perhaps even the death of the person who, in death, became the invisible kami in question. But it is not entirely clear.
There is also the matter of the reverse clapping, which some suggest is either clapping with your hands facing outwards or clapping vertically instead of horizontally. However it would be done, it is reminiscent of Susanowo and his “reverse flaying” of the horse—some sort of magical spell or incantation.
Furthermore, the enclosure, made of green branches, is described like a holy site. Some of the earliest shrines appear to have simply been areas that were fenced off where the kami’s spirit was thought to dwell, with actual shrine buildings coming much later. And you might remember just how pleased Susanowo was with the many walls—the yaegaki—that he constructed around Kushinada Hime’s home.
Anyway, with Kotoshiro Nushi now concealed, the Heavenly deities once again asked Ohokuninushi if he would give up the land, but he deferred yet one more time. He had another son, Takeminakata, whom he would consult—though he promised this was the last one. Honest, guys, really.
And so they waited while Takeminakata arrived, and, well, you know how I said this feels like some weird Joestar adventure? Yeah, well Takeminakata arrives carrying a huge boulder—one that the chronicles say would take a thousand men to lift—and he’s carrying it on his fingertips as if it were nothing. If Kotoshiro Nushi represented the brains, Takeminakata was bringing the brawns—and oh was he bringing it. Setting aside the boulder—and no doubt pausing to flex a bit—Takeminakata requested that they have a test of strength. This may have referred to some kind of traditional wrestling match—possibly even the kind of wrestling that later led to sumo. But whatever it may have been in actuality, the chronicles take that up to 11.
So first off, Takeminakata grabbed Takemikazuchi’s arm, which immediately ran cold, turning to ice, and then into a sword blade. Maybe these were euphemisms for combat in some way, but I just have anime vision in my head as the muscle-bound Takeminakata grabs Takemikazuchi and his arm actually does change, startling Takeminakata.
Of course, then it is Takemikazuchi’s turn. He grabbed Takeminakata’s arm and crushed it like a young reed, apparently tearing it off and throwing it to the ground, at which point Takeminakata went running off, pursued by Takemikazuchi and Futsunushi until they caught up to him at Lake Suwa in Shinano—modern Nagano prefecture. Just before they were about to kill him he raised a hand in defeat. He agreed to submit and that he wouldn’t go against the words of his brother, Kotoshiro Nushi. Takeminakata is still worshipped there, today, at Suwa’s Upper Shrine.
And so, having defeated Takeminakata, Takemikazuchi and Futsunushi they return to Ohokuninushi and ask one more time if he is willing to submit—they had to be getting more than a bit frustrated by this point.
At last, Ohokuninushi agreed that he, would, in fact, yield the Central Land of the Reed Plains, but only if they set up a palace where he could be worshipped. In some cases he requested this, in others it was an offer by Takami Musubi, but either way, everyone agreed. A palace would be built in Kizuki, one that was near to the heavens. It would have all the trappings of the palace—or shrine—of a High God of Heaven, and it would be near enough to the shore that he could go out boating when he needed to, and people would be appointed to take care of his every need. They would even leave him in charge of the spiritual realm as long as he handed over the physical realm to the Heavenly heir.
With all of this prepared, Ohokuninushi handed over the spear he had used to gain control of the land, noting that he hoped it would help to bring peace to the land, and then he, too concealed himself.
Or at least, that’s how the Yamato court told it. In the Kamuyogoto of Izumo it is a little more nuanced. Rather than giving up the land, Ohokuninushi—or Ohonamochi, as he’s addressed in the Kamuyogoto—tells them that the Divine Descendant could live in Yamato, rather than giving up everything. Furthermore, the Izumo Fudoki makes it sounds as it Ohonamochi gave up all of the lands that he had conquered outside of Izumo, but kept Izumo as his own.
In addition, the handing over the regalia—the spear—seems pretty significant. I can’t help but think of all of the bronze weapons that were found in Kojindani, including spears as well as swords and bells—was this something similar? There is also a note in the Izumo Fudoki about how Yatsukamizu Omizunu, when he was finished pulling the lands of Izumo together into one, plunged a staff in to a mound on the Ou plain and declared that he was finished. I may have mentioned this before, I can’t help but wonder if this is an echo of some ancient practice, possibly some kind of ceremony. It strikes me as not all that dissimilar from the European proclivity to place flags wherever they go—heck, we even put one on the Moon itself!
In addition to that there is a story that Funado—the deity that came from Izanagi’s staff—apparently led Futsunushi around as he pacified the land—without any mention of Takemikazuchi, mind you.
So what are we to make of all of this? It is certainly hard to say for certain, as there is no sure link between the archaeology and the mythical stories. Still, I’m more inclined to accept the stories in the Izumo Fudoki and as handed down in the Kamuyogoto as containing a greater part of the earlier traditions. Those traditions seem to have centered more on Takami Musubi and Kamu Musubi as the chief Heavenly deities, and Futsu Nushi as the warrior spirit who later calmed the land of Izumo. The passage in the Fudoki where Ohokuninushi gives up all the land he had conquered except for Izumo proper has echoes in the way that we see round keyhole tomb mounds spring up first in Tottori, rather than Izumo, and it is in Izumo that we see them hold out the longest.
I would propose that Takemikazuchi may be a deity truly from outside of Izumo, and possibly brought into the narrative along with Amaterasu, to bolster the Yamato narrative. He may have originally been a Yamato deity—or possibly from elsewhere in the archipelago. I would not be surprised if the story about him and Takeminakata was lifted from some other myth cycle and transplanted here.
Regardless, both Takemikazuchi and Futsunushi were important to the Yamato court—particularly to the Yamato military. Takemikazuchi is enshrined at Kasuga Taisha, the ancestral shrine of the Fujiwara, a powerful family that arose from the Nakatomi court ritualists and eventually gained immense political power in the court. Both Takemikazuchi and Futsunushi are enshrined in the eastern Kanto region, though, and it is thought they were brought East as the Yamato military marched out, possibly fighting with the Emishi and any other group outside the Yamato polity.
Regardless of the original stories, the land was now at peace, and the divine descendant could finally leave the Plain of Heaven and start their rule over the Central Reed Plains. But we will leave that story for another day.
There is a bit of an epilogue to this story, one that belies some of what came before. In the various stories, they note who submitted to the Will of Heaven, and amongst them are a couple names in particular. There, Kotoshiro Nushi and Ohomono Nushi—whom you might remember was a part of the spirit of Ohokuni Nushi who dwelled at Mt. Miwa, near the birthplace of Yamato—were both said to have submitted themselves and were thus taken up into the High Plain of Heaven. Ohomono Nushi was even forced to take a Heavenly Deity as a wife, as Takami Musubi wouldn’t trust him with an earthly spouse. And so he was wed to Takami Musubi’s daughter, Mihotsu Hime, whose name seems to reference the same cape where Kotoshiro Nushi was out hunting and fishing. This whole thing reeks of the kind of marriage politics that we saw earlier between Ohonamuchi and Yagami Hime and even Nunakawa Hime.
But nonetheless, how could they have submitted and gone up to Heaven if they are said to have concealed themselves, especially if concealing themselves really is meant to refer to death? We could just pass it off because they are kami—they don’t have to follow our human rules, thank you very much. And it could also be that the various stories that were being drawn from all had different endings. Who knows?
Anyway, as I said before, we’ll leave it here and next episode we’ll start to look at the divine descendant and their descent from the Heavenly Plain, eventually leading to the birth of the first sovereign of Yamato.
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That’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.