Samurai Religion: A New Book Provides a Unique Perspective on the History of Religion in Japan

The Samurai Class and the Sacred Mountain

This new book by Hongō Kazuto covers all the major, classical developments you might expect to find in a conventional history of religion in Japan, from the age of myth in the ancient texts to the coming of Buddhism in the sixth century. However, the chief interest of the book lies in the author’s arguments about the relationship between religion and the samurai warlords during the Sengoku period (1467–1568) that ended with the reunification of the country under the Tokugawa at the beginning of the seventeenth century.

From the Heian Period into the Kamakura period (1185–1333), kokushi (provincial governors) used to host a major event called the Great Hunt (Ōgari). The animals caught in the hunt were regarded as gifts from the gods, and being allowed to take part was proof that a person was recognized as a full-fledged samurai. According to the Azuma kagami, the official chronicle of the Kamakura shogunate, Minamoto Yoritomo organized a Great Hunt in the foothills of Mount Fuji. During this hunt, his 12-year-old son impressed his father by shooting and killing a deer, leading Yoritomo to acknowledge him as his heir.

The influence of the samurai class can also be seen in the Japanese religious practices associated with Mount Fuji. Many of key figures in the Kamakura shogunate came from the provinces of Suruga, Izu (now Shizuoka Prefecture), Sagami (Kanagawa), and Musashi (Tokyo and the surrounding area) on the Kantō plain. All of these were provinces from which Mount Fuji was visible. The author suggests that simply being from an area close to the sacred mountain may have been enough to confer influence and power within the shogunate. The founder of the Edo shogunate (1603–1867), Tokugawa Ieyasu, moved to Sunpu in Shizuoka in his final years—close to Mount Fuji—and numerous locations in Edo had names like “Fujimi-zaka” (slope with a view of Fuji), many of which still exist in Tokyo today.

Japanese Buddhism as the Religion of the Aristocracy

In the Nara Period (710–794), the court gave an important role to what became known as the “Six Nara schools” of Buddhism, as represented most famously by the Kegon (Huayan) sect (with its headquarters at Tōdaiji) and the Hossō or Yogacara sect (whose main temple was at Yakushiji), with the aim of creating a new style of centralized Chinese-style state protected by the sophisticated new schools of Mahayana Buddhism imported from the continent and now enjoying patronage at court. But after the capital was transferred to Heian (now Kyoto) in 794, new sects including the Tendai sect founded by Saichō and the Shingon sect founded by Kūkai became established in court society, securing a position of power and prestige that remained unshaken until the Muromachi period (1333–1568). The author gives a solid and convincing account of the historical background to these developments.

But as a religion that had become closely linked to the privileged elite, Buddhism in Japan at this stage had no concept of providing salvation to the masses. Compared to Christianity in the same period, which claimed to be a religion offering salvation for all, “the huge gap that existed in the purpose and role of the two religions is a historically interesting point,” the author notes.

It was in the Kamakura period that religious sects offering salvation for the masses arose in Japan, represented by the Pure Land sects founded by Hōnen (Jōdoshū) and Shinran (Jōdoshinshū) and Nichiren’s salvific sect, based on his reading of the Lotus Sutra. These new sects gained support among ordinary people and rapidly widened their influence and power. However, the most popular form of the faith among the samurai class was not any of these sects but Zen Buddhism. Why was this? The author offers a fascinating and insightful exploration of this conundrum.

Ultimately, these forms of Buddhism, popular with the masses, seem to have been incompatible with the samurai class. Oda Nobunaga regarded the Ikkō-shū (a militant offshoot of the Jōdōshinshū sect) as his sworn enemies, and in the 1570s massacred large numbers of its followers in places like Ise Nagashima and Echizen where the sect was influential. Fundamentally, the author says, the warlords and samurai competing for supremacy in the Sengoku period were fighting over success and riches in the world of the present—whereas the Ikkō-shū sect was focused on the afterlife and taught its followers to scorn the riches of this world. “These teachings,” he writes, “were an irritation and a challenge to the daimyo, the military lords of the age.”

Dainichi as Deus?

The chapters discussing the relationship between the samurai and Christianity are particularly engaging. During Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s rule after the reunification of the country, Christianity was the religion that presented a threat to peace and unity. In 1549, Francis Xavier arrived in Japan and quickly gained converts to the new faith—though the author suggests this was at least partly due to problems with translation. In the initial stages of the Christian proselytization efforts, the word used to render “Deus” was “Dainichi Nyorai”—the same term used to describe the Vairocana Buddha. Many Japanese readily embraced the teachings, believing they were merely a new twist on familiar Buddhist doctrines.

At first, Hideyoshi took a conciliatory attitude toward the newcomers, but his suspicions gradually deepened. Several daimyō became fervent believers and Japan’s wealth started to flow out of the country. There were stories of poor Japanese being sold into slavery, and eventually Hideyoshi proclaimed the famous Bateren Expulsion Edict of 1587, expelling the priests and missionaries.

In 1600, Ieyasu was victorious at the Battle of Sekigahara, but it took a full 15 years before he eventually crushed his rivals in the Toyotomi clan at the siege of Osaka. Why did it take so long? The author’s unique perspective, which points to the presence of Christians in Japan as one of the background factors, provides a convincing explanation for why the suppression of the religion took such a merciless turn in the years that followed.

From there, the author’s account proceeds to the Meiji Restoration, where he explores the causes of the iconoclastic violence against Buddhism (haibutsu kishaku) in the years that followed the restoration of imperial rule. His discussion broadens to consider the question of whether Shintō can truly be considered a religion. He also offers an interesting argument that the brothels of the pleasure quarters played a key role in supporting mass pilgrimages to Ise, home to the most important Shintō shrine, during these years. This ability to widen his field of view to take in the history of ordinary life in the towns and cities is one of the author’s strengths.

All in all, this book offers a thoughtful guide to exploring what religion truly means to the Japanese.

(Originally published in Japanese. Banner photo: A Shintō torii marks the entrance to Seishōgū, inside of the Kyoto temple Hongokuji. © Pixta.)