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UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, IRVINE Searching for the Law: Ennin’s Journal as a Key to the Heian Appropriation of Tang Culture DISSERTATION submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in East Asian Languages and Literatures by Jesse Dalton Palmer Dissertation Committee: Professor Susan Blakeley Klein, Chair Professor Michael A. Fuller Professor Anne Walthall 2009 UMI Number: 3380358 All rights reserved INFORMATION TO ALL USERS The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion. UMI 3380358 Copyright 2009 by ProQuest LLC. All rights reserved. This edition of the work is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code. ProQuest LLC 789 East Eisenhower Parkway P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, MI 48106-1346 © 2009 Jesse D. Palmer DEDICATION for Rebekah, Miriam, and Gwyneth ii TABLE OF CONTENTS Page ACKNOWLEDGMENTS iv CURRICULUM VITAE v ABSTRACT OF THE DISSERTATION vi NOTES ON STYLE viii INTRODUCTION 1 CHAPTER 1 Precedents: Contextualizing Ennin’s Journal in the East Asian Tradition 51 CHAPTER 2 Cultural Technology and Sacred Trade 86 CHAPTER 3 Seeking for the Law: Mastering Esoteric Buddhist Ritual Addressing Authority: Correspondence with the Tang Bureaucracy 113 CHAPTER 5 Ennin’s Maps: Inscription of Imperial and Sacred Geographies 178 CHAPTER 6 Ennin’s Response to Huichang Persecution of Buddhism 225 CHAPTER 7 Authoring One’s Place: The Heian Journal Tradition after Ennin 256 CHAPTER 4 BIBLIOGRAPHY 143 297 iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would like to thank my dissertation advisors, Susan Blakeley Klein, Michael Fuller, and Anne Walthall for their support and encouragement. Each graciously contributed their advice and expertise to a project that has probably ranged farther afield than a dissertation should. I am grateful to Susan Klein for her perspective on the project as a whole, something I often lost sight of in the thicket of details, and her guidance in Irvine and in Tokyo. I am grateful to Michael Fuller for his scholarly rigor and direction in matters Chinese. My orientation towards the Chinese cultural tradition is primarily due to the many seminars I took from him, where we all benefitted from his good humor, his enthusiasm for the texts, and Socratic style. I am grateful to Anne Walthall for her attention to matters of argumentation and style. Although still lacking, the final product has greatly benefitted from her careful readings. I am also grateful to my academic peers at UC Irvine and at other institutions. In the East Asian Language and Literature department were Leron Harrison, David Cannell, and Kenneth Berthel. My academic development is indebted to the many shared seminars, discussions after class, and their feedback on papers and projects. Kristina Buhrman was also a colleague at the Kanbun Workshop at the University of Southern California and then again at the Historiographical Institute at the University of Tokyo. In Japan, I also benefitted from the expertise of Ishigami Eiichi at the Historiographical Institute and Suzuki Yasutami of Kokugakuin University, who let me participate in his seminar on Ennin’s journal. I am grateful to the Japan Foundation for their support of my research and the sponsorship of the Historiographical Institute. My research has also been enabled by a variety of grants from the University of California, including a Regents Fellowship, a Chancellor’s Fellowship, a summer language study grant, a summer dissertation writing grant, and a Dean’s dissertation writing grant. I also have a great debt to friends and family who supported me through this academic journey. John and Brooke Williams, Matt Ancell, Charlie and Hisako Morgan, Peter and Christie Leman, Rob and Corrie Colson, John and Meka Manchak, Mike McBride and Caroline Klein, the Barretts, the Mausses, and so many others for the wonderful discussions, the company, the potlucks, the babysitting, and much more. Because of them, our time in graduate school was as fun as it was busy. I am also grateful to my mother, Pamela Palmer for her unwaveringly sane perspective, and to my twin brother Christian for his non-telepathic, but uncannily acute understanding. Thanks to Mariko who took the time from her pile of freshman essays to read and comment on my dissertation. Finally, I am grateful to Rebekah, Miriam, and Gwyneth who have accompanied me on our own pilgrimages to Taiwan and Japan, and with the same adventuresome spirit and dedication that Ennin displayed, and gave me a reason to keep working on the dissertation, when the other reasons seemed less compelling. iv CURRICULUM VITAE Jesse Dalton Palmer EDUCATION 2009 Ph.D., University of California Irvine East Asian Language and Literatures Emphasis: East Asian Cultural Studies 2004-2005 Tunghai University, Chinese Language Program 2002 B.A. Brigham Young University, Hawaii Majors: International Cultural Studies: Humanities, English Literature Minors: Japanese, Chinese FIELD OF STUDY East Asian comparative cultural studies, specifically: Kanbun and kanshi (SinoJapanese literature and poetry), Early Chinese philosophy and literary theory; Tang poetry; The relationship between material culture and textual culture; Translation theory; Western translation of Chinese and Japanese poetry; East Asian orthography and orthographic history. GRANTS, FELLOWSHIPS, & SCHOLARSHIPS 2009 Dean’s Dissertation Fellowship 2007-2008 Japan Foundation Fellowship 2005-2006 University of California Regents Fellowship 2002-2003 Chancellor’s Fellowship, UC Irvine 2004-2005 Taiwan Ministry of Education Scholarship 2007 Summer Dissertation Writing Grant 2006 Summer Language Study Grant v ABSTRACT OF THE DISSERTATION Searching for the Law: Ennin’s Journal as a Key to the Heian Appropriation of Tang Culture By Jesse Dalton Palmer Doctor of Philosophy in East Asian Languages and Literatures University of California, Irvine, 2009 Professor Susan Blakeley Klein, Chair Ennin (794-868) traveled in China from 838 to 847 as part of the final Heian embassy to the Tang. In both Asian and Western scholarship, Ennin’s journal has been valued primarily as a historical source for daily life in Tang China (618-907). However, these readings assume the transparency of the text and ignore Ennin’s role in crafting the narrative. Shifting focus to Ennin’s subjectivity and resituating Ennin’s journal in its Japanese cultural context enables us to see the journal as a negotiation of cultural identity that reveals the significance of the Tang to the Heian court. Following this trajectory within the journal, as well as in its afterlife and influence on the developing Heian journal culture, helps map out the dynamics of Heian cultural appropriation and translation, which formed the basis for much of subsequent Japanese culture. I begin with a discussion of East Asian precedents for Ennin’s journal in chapter one. Chapters two and three explore Ennin’s records of rituals, both Buddhist and otherwise. These passages are central to Ennin’s purpose in traveling to China and from them, the idea of ritual as cultural technology emerges in full relief. Chapter four examines Ennin’s relationship to the Tang bureaucracy, primarily through his formal vi letters to and from Tang bureaucrats. These letters provide an example of genre and writing as cultural technology and offer insight into the relationship of Buddhism and the imperial state in East Asia. Chapter five follows Ennin to Mt. Wutai, where his account of the mountain as well as his transmission of ritual practices and monastic architecture opens the way for the reconfiguration of sacred space in Japan. Chapter six analyses Ennin’s account of the Huichang suppression of Buddhism, revisiting the issue of the relationship between Buddhism and the state. In the final chapter, I examine Ennin’s impact on the subsequent journal tradition. I argue that Ennin’s journal represents a pivotal moment in Japan’s cultural evolution, and link the increasing significance of the journal genre to the development and popularization of esoteric Buddhism in the Heian court. vii NOTES ON STYLE In general, I follow The Chicago Manual of Style. As their directions are not sufficient to handle the complexity of Chinese characters with multiple pronunciations and translation, in those cases I followed current practices in the field. In order to avoid the reification of modern national identities, I use geographic terms such as the peninsula, archipelago, and continent, for the Korean peninsula, Japanese archipelago, and Chinese continent. When applicable, I also use the name of the dynastic state instead of the name of the modern nation state, primarily Silla, Heian, and Tang. In summarizing the work of others I follow their terminology, except in my translations of Ennin’s journal, where I retranslate Reischauer and follow the original. Occasionally, I use Japan and Japanese to describe the Japanese state when I am discussing both the Nara and early Heian periods together, because, despite the change of capital, there was more continuity than discontinuity between the two periods and the changes were gradual, rather than dramatic. Also, the word for Japan, “Nihon” (! ") was already in common usage to describe the court. Still, “Japan,” in this usage, does not conform to current Japanese nation state. Occasionally, I use the term East Asian Heartland to emphasize its central and formative character and avoid the anachronism of China. I borrow the term “East Asian Heartland” from Victor Mair.1 In discussing later period when the culture it represented was more widely diffused, I prefer the term continent, which has the added benefit of having an adjectival form, continental. For translations of East Asian language texts, where the text is commonly known and its original title is in common use in English language studies, I use the original Chinese or Japanese and provide a translation in parenthesis with the original characters. When a text is more obscure, I translate the title. If a translation of the title is particularly long and unwieldy, I put it in the footnotes. For translation of official titles, I generally leave Japanese official titles untranslated and provide a translation either in the text, following the characters in parenthesis, except in instances where the function of the official is easily comprehensible through the English translation, such as the ambassador. For Chinese official titles, I follow Reischauer’s translations and provide the original characters. In general, it is clear from context and from the differences between the languages, whether a noted pronunciation is for Chinese or Japanese, but in instances where I provide both, I note them accordingly. 1 Victor Mair, “The North(west)ern Peoples and the Recurrent Origins of the ‘Chinese’ State,” in The Teleology of the Nation State, ed. Joshua A. Fogel (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005), 46-86. viii For Buddhist texts and terms, I generally use Japanese terms to reflect Ennin’s perspective, although occasionally, when he is describing a Chinese ritual, I use the Chinese, or the Sanskrit, in the case of Buddhist deities. If a Sanskrit term has become part of the English language, such as dharma, mandala, mudra, stupa, and sutra, I use them without diacriticals. For a list of such terms, I follow Roger Jackson in the Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies.2 When I cite Ennin’s journal, I generally use only the date, since that enables the reader to look it up under any account, giving the Western calendar year, and the Chinese month and day based on the lunar calendar. Although these two calendar systems do not align perfectly, I believe the ease of use of the Western years and their general use in historical studies is worth the slight inaccuracy. As most Chinese and Japanese editions continue to use the indigenous reign years for Ennin’s journal, here is a conversion chart to help in the transition. 838 839 840 841 842 843 844 845 846 Kaicheng #$ 3 (Jowa %& 5) Ennin arrived in the Tang. He was left in Yang zhou while the main embassy traveled to Changan. Kaicheng 4 (Jowa 6) In the 3rd month, the embassy began to sail home. Ennin arranged to be left behind at Mt. Chi. Kaicheng 5 Ennin traveled to Mt. Wutai and to Changan. Huichang '( 1 as of 1.9 Huichang 2 Huichang 3 Huichang 4 Huichang 5 Ennin left Changan to travel home. Huichang 6 On 9.10, Ennin arrived back in Japan. The Intercalary month, which I abbreviate to I.C., is in 839 and falls between the first and second month. When Ennin’s journal provides only the month and no day, I do the same. If events are dated differently in different editions of Ennin’s journal, I provide this information in the footnotes. For Romanization of Chinese, I use pinyin, except in quotations, where I follow the original. I trust the reader will be able to follow these changes back and forth. For place names, I separate out the place name suffixes from the proper names, leaving them untranslated in the case of Chinese, zhou, prefecture, xian, subprefecture. I translate the suffix “)” (jp:ji ch:si) as monastery, and “*” (jp:in ch:yuan) as cloister. For modern Chinese place names, I do not provide the characters. In general I use the past tense to describe Ennin and his travels, but use historical present when describing the contents of the journal. I ask for the reader’s patience with the abrupt changes in tense this sometimes produces. 2 Roger Jackson, “Terms of Pali and Sanskrit Origin Acceptable as English Words,” Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies 5, no 2 (1982), 142-2. ix Introduction So much of what we think of as quintessentially Japanese originated in China, yet it has come to the West from Japan and is inseparable from popular perceptions of Japanese culture. Confronted with this fact, students often retreat to one of several simplistic ideas: either all Japanese culture is derivative of Chinese; or Japan has the ability to borrow from other cultures and improve upon them, creating something uniquely Japanese; or Japan perfected and preserved their Asian cultural heritage in a way that other nations were not able to. The problem is that all of these ideas depend on essentialized and unsustainable notions of Japanese and Chinese that ignore the historical interdependence and cultural continuities of each country. “Japan” and “China” are modern ideas with a historical depth of less than 150 years in Japan, and even less in China. Modern national cultures are the result of a conscious search for a national identity that must differentiate itself from the cultures that seem the most similar. Thus when these national labels, Japanese and Chinese, are used to describe premodern states, they obscure more than they reveal. Although each modern nation state projects its history backwards through the ages, all are modern creations. Until recently, historians have also thought in national terms, and national boundaries continue to delineate academic disciplines. In fact, premodern East Asia was defined by the shared cultural world of the Chinese classics and Mahayana Buddhism, with Literary Sinitic as a written lingua 1 franca.1 The imperial system, buttressed by Confucianism and Buddhism, was also a common tradition, although it was configured differently in each state. These commonalities were reinforced by the shared material world of Buddhist architecture, Sinitic characters, and Tang style dress. Premodern Japanese borrowing from the continent was so extensive and foundational that the Heian court imagined itself as heir to the same cultural tradition as the Tang. Despite an academic acknowledgement of this shared history, many of the details have yet to be worked out and modern linguistic, disciplinary, and national boundaries remain significant barriers to meaningful crosscultural analysis. Much of the work on early Japanese-Chinese interaction can be divided into three types. Historians of pre-Heian Japan have recorded the extensive material and technological transfer, as well as the early Japanese adoption of continental culture and concepts of government. All accounts agree that the transfer was primarily between the early Japanese court and the states of the Korean peninsula, rather than with the continent directly. Likewise, intermediaries of peninsular origin were absolutely central in organizing, managing, and generating ideology for the emerging Japanese state and formed a significant percentage of its elites. Then there are scholars of Japanese literature. Generally starting their analyses in the mid-Heian period with the first works written in Japanese, they acknowledge the importance of continental influences, but generally stress the independence of the 1 When I discuss East Asian culture generally and the culture of each state, I am primarily talking about the culture of the courts and the literary classes. Indeed, one way in which the culture of premodern states differed from modern national cultures was that it was not the “broad horizontal comradeship” described by Benedict Anderson in Imagined Communities (New York: Verso, 2006), but was instead limited to the literate upper classes, whose cultural ties to foreign elites were greater perhaps than to illiterate peasants closer at hand. 2 Japanese literary tradition. Finally, scholars of Japanese Buddhism have also traced the history by which Buddhism came to the Japanese archipelago, first as the religion of peninsular and continental immigrants, and later adopted as a key part of the imperial state apparatus. After the final official embassy to the Tang in the early Heian period, Buddhist travel to the continent continued as one of the primary modes of interaction between Japan and the continent. However, most Buddhologists focus primarily on Buddhist doctrinal and institutional histories, ignoring the role of monks in overall cultural transfer, or the relationship of Buddhist exchange to the larger cultural and political developments of the period. Recently, a handful of works have begun to tie these strands together and create a more coherent picture of cultural exchange in premodern East Asia. Charles Holcombe’s Genesis of East Asia gives an overview of the entire region from the earliest times until the end of the Tang and does much to sweep away the debris of modern national histories and examine the history of the region without a national lens.2 Ryuichi Abe’s Weaving of Mantra shows how religious developments impacted the government. Abe persuasively argues that K!kai’s (!" 774–835) influence was not limited to the Shingon sect he founded; instead, his introduction of esoteric Buddhism to Japan in the early Heian period created an esoteric Buddhist paradigm that was adopted by existing Buddhist institutions and fundamentally changed their relationship to the government.3 2 Charles Holcombe, Genesis of East Asia, 221 B.C.-A.D. 907 (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2001). 3 Ryuichi Abe, The Weaving of Mantra: K!kai and the Construction of Esoteric Buddhist Discourse (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999). 3 As I thought about how to integrate these accounts of exchange, Ennin’s journal immediately stuck out as an ideal source. The monk Ennin (#$ 794-868) traveled to the Tang from 838-847, during the early Heian period, the pivotal, but largely ignored, period between the historical accounts of exchange early on and the literary studies of the later period. As the final official embassy, Ennin’s journey was also transitional in terms of the way the Heian court interacted with the continent. Coming immediately after K!kai and Saich# (%& 767–822),4 Ennin was also central in the transition to the esoteric paradigm described by Abe. Furthermore, Ennin kept a detailed journal of his nine years in the Tang, which is an invaluable record of this interaction. Ennin went to the Tang as a student of Buddhism and of Tang culture and his record provides many insights about how the Heian court understood their cultural relationship to the Tang. In both Asian and Western scholarship, Ennin’s journal has been valued primarily as a historical source for daily life in Tang China (618-907), and indeed he recorded much valuable information that is found nowhere else. However, these readings assume the transparency of the text and ignore Ennin’s role in crafting the narrative. Shifting focus to Ennin’s subjectivity and resituating Ennin’s journal in its Heian cultural context enables us to see the journal as a negotiation of cultural identity that reveals the significance of the Tang to the Heian court. His decision to keep a journal, the details he recorded, and his occasional commentary all reveal how he understood the relationship between Tang and Heian culture. The only English language study of Ennin’s journal is Edwin O. Reischauer’s 1955 translation and its 4 Saich# was K!kai’s contemporary, the founder of the Japanese Tendai sect, and Ennin’s master. 4 companion volume, Ennin’s Travels in T’ang China.5 However, an exploration of the text as a whole provides a valuable perspective on the perennial and significant question of the cultural relationship between various early East Asian states and has implications for historical, literary, and religious fields. East Asian Cultural Sphere Over the course of much of its premodern history, East Asia was a somewhat unified cultural area within which various states came into being and disappeared. The common culture was based on the early development of writing in the East Asian Heartland6 and the subsequent development of written history, philosophy, and literature. Later, Buddhism spread throughout East Asia and became an essential aspect of this shared culture. Although geographic boundaries such as the river valleys of the East Asian Heartland and the surrounding mountain ranges, the (Korean) peninsula, and the (Japanese) archipelago are important, they by no means determined contemporary state boundaries.7 In The Genesis of East Asia, Charles Holcombe maps out this regional history, treating East Asia as a culturally contiguous whole whose political units were more malleable than modern national imaginations would admit. The stretch of this shared culture was often limited to the ruling classes and, even on the continent, large areas remained culturally distinct throughout imperial history and 5 Ennin, Ennin's Diary: The Record of a Pilgrimage to China in Search of the Law, trans. Edwin O. Reischauer (New York: Ronald Press, 1955); Edwin O. Reischauer, Ennin's Travels in T’ang China (New York: Ronald Press, 1955). 6 Victor Mair, “The North(west)ern Peoples and the Recurrent Origins of the ‘Chinese’ State,” in The Teleology of the Nation State, ed. Joshua A. Fogel (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005), 46-86. 7 Indeed, the Korean peninsula remains split into two states and Korean speakers live in what is now Russia and China. For a history of the boundaries of the early Japanese state, see Bruce Lloyd Batten, “State,” in To the Ends of Japan: Premodern Frontiers, Boundaries, and Interactions (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2003), 19-51. 5 into the modern period. This situation was even more pronounced in the peninsular and archipelagic states.8 In addition to the origin of writing and Literary Sinitic in the East Asian Heartland, this common East Asian culture was defined and enhanced by exchange with other cultures. Iron working and chariots, two key features of Warring States China (475-221 BCE), were imported from western Asia.9 Victor Mair argues that over the long scope of Chinese history not only was there significant cultural input from the western regions to China, but that outsiders from the north and northwest founded the majority of the lasting states in the East Asian Heartland.10 Buddhism was also a foreign introduction, although it too became central in the East Asian cultural identity and state organization. One reason for the elision of this complicated history is that the common political ideology, developed in canonical East Asian texts, stressed the ideal of a single, universal state that was politically, economically, and spiritually central. All the surrounding states were then defined in relation to this state. Although there were moments within the most successful continental dynasties that came close to producing this ideal, it is important not to confuse this ideal, which was prevalent even when the continent was divided into multiple states, with the much messier reality. Wang Zhenping and Pan Yihong’s works are useful correctives to Sinocentric understanding 8 For analysis of this situation in Japan, see Mark Hudson, Ruins of Identity: Ethnogenesis in the Japanese Islands (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 1999). 9 Andrew Sherratt, “The Trans-Eurasian Exchange: The Prehistory of Chinese Relations with the West,” in Contact and Exchange in the Ancient World, ed. Victor Mair (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2006), 30-61. Mair, “The North(west)ern Peoples,” 68-9. 10 Mair, “The North(west)ern Peoples,” 46-64. 6 of the political arena, showing how smaller states successfully negotiated their status in relation to the shifting political and cultural centers.11 Historical Background: Japanese and Chinese Interaction Historians of early Japan have detailed the role of continental technology, immigration, and ideology in the state formation in the archipelago. Joan Piggott’s The Emergence of Japanese Kingship shows how different continental ideologies came to the fore at different stages of early Japanese state formation. In addition to these ideologies, the organizational technologies of writing and recordkeeping facilitated the extraction and mobilization of resources. The court exchanged this practical continental cultural capital for political and military support from provincial elites. Eventually a Buddhist network of temples and monks strengthened and reinforced these ties. Michael Como’s Sh"toku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition shows how these new ideologies were developed by groups of immigrants from the Korean peninsula, who were linked to the royal family and had monopolies on certain continental cultural technologies, such as reading, writing, as well as divination, astrology, and even textile manufacturing.12 These then became 11 Wang Zhenping, Ambassadors from the Island of Immortals: China-Japan Relations in the Han-Tang Period (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2005); Pan Yihong, Son of Heaven and Heavenly Qaghan: Sui-Tang China and Its Neighbors (Bellingham, WA: Center for East Asian Studies, Western Washington University, 1997). 12 Michael I. Como, Sh"toku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008). Others have written on the early relationship between the Korean peninsular states and emerging Japanese state, such as Kim Hyun Koo, "A Study of Korea-Japan Relations in Ancient Times: Centering on the Taika Reforms and the Formation of Cooperation Among Silla, Japan, and Tang China," Korea Journal (October 1989): 18-27; and Hong Wontack, Paekche of Korea and the Origins of Japan (Seoul: Kudara International, 1994). Kim shows the close connection between early Japanese monastery building styles and Sillan and Paekche monasteries. Hong’s work has a very nationalistic agenda, which causes him to overstate many of his conclusions, but his work does call attention to the many similarities between early Korean and Japanese mythologies. 7 part of the cultural capital that the court used to negotiate with peripheral groups. At the beginning of the Heian period, these descendants of peninsular immigrants were incorporated into the Heian aristocracy and became indistinguishable as an ethnic group.13 The early Heian period was marked by a great interest in continental learning (kangaku '() and culture and the study of continental texts (kanseki ')).14 Confucian studies, especially its ideology of kingly rule, were avidly promoted by Kanmu Tenn" (*+,- 737–806)15 and his successors. Ry!ichi Abe outlines this history in “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice: On Renovation in the History of Buddhist Writing in the Early Heian Period.”16 As examples, Abe cites Kanmu Tenn"’s adoption of the two classical commentaries on the Spring and Autumn Annals (./), the Gongyang (012) and Guliang (342) commentaries, as official texts for statecraft. In 806, Heizei Tenn" (56 774-824), who succeeded Kanmu, made it mandatory that all imperial princes and sons of aristocrats of the fifth rank and above 13 Herman Ooms, Imperial Politics and Symbolics in Ancient Japan: The Tenmu Dynasty, 650-800 (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2009), 103. 14 Marian Ury, “Chinese Learning and Intellectual Life,” in Cambridge History of Japan: Volume 2: Heian Japan, ed. Donald H. Shively and William H. McCullough (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 341-389. 15 The Japanese title tenn" is generally translated as emperor. Joan Piggott feels that this term is misleading as the Japanese sovereign, unlike his continental counterparts, did not preside over a military empire. Joan Piggott, The Emergence of Japanese Kingship (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 8-9. A more literal translation is “heavenly sovereign.” However, as Piggott and others have shown the Heian sovereign clearly drew upon continental precedent, ideology, and symbolism in defining his role and so I think a term that underscores this connection is appropriate. As a compromise, in the case of the Japanese sovereign, I use the Japanese title tenn", but retain the adjectival form “imperial” for both Heian and continental rulers. For a comparison of the two institutions, see Shen Cailin 789, Tenn" to chugoku no k"tei ,-:;<=->, Higashi Ajia no naka no Nihon rekishi 13 ?@A@=BC=D EFG(Rokk# shuppan HIJK, 1990). 16 Abe Ryuichi, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice: On Renovation in the History of Buddhist Writing in the Early Heian Period,” in Heian Japan, Centers and Peripheries (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2007), 179-274. 8 enter the State Academy (Daigakury" L(M) to study the continental classics there.17 Heian legal codes were also based on Tang models, as were court histories, which attempted “to portray rulers as exemplars of Confucian moral virtue.”18 Heian aristocrats saw themselves as full participants in the East Asian cultural world. Their political, legal, religious, and educational systems participated in and drew from this shared tradition. A courtier’s success at court depended on the degree to which he had mastered this tradition. Decisions made in the Council of State were often made according to their understanding of continental precedents. The Zoku kojidan (NOPQ Continued Anecdotes of Old Matters), a 12th century compendium of episodes about the Heian court, states, The cabinet was the battleground for elite aristocrats to boast their great learning. They vied with one another by displaying their ability to refer to diverse books of Chinese classics. Quoting freely from memory, they advanced their arguments and recommendations for the cabinet’s adoption. Without asking each cabinet member about their sources, without having any text in his reach, the secretary was expected to write down all the arguments and recommendations immediately as he heard them.19 In order to perform in this environment, a very high level of familiarity with the East Asian cultural canon was necessary, not only for the ministers, but also the secretary. The very fact that continental precedents were used to determine the correct course of action, or that they were considered precedents at all, shows that the Heian courtiers considered themselves heirs to this tradition. Analyzing this passage Abe points out the importance of literature in Heian period government. “This episode portrays the particular affinity that developed between literary studies and statecraft in the early 17 Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 180. Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 180. 19 Quoted in Abe,“Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 181. 18 9 Heian court and its intelligentsia.”20 This affinity can be directly linked to Chinese literary theories, which posit a strong correlation between poetic production and successful governance. Thus, the early Heian anthologies of poetry in Literary Sinitic (kanshi 'R) were also a part of the same political project of legitimizing the government through adherence to traditional East Asian cultural norms. Abe describes this situation in the early Heian period to illustrate how the midHeian period moved beyond this into a new paradigm.21 Abe tries to carve out a separate sphere for mid-Heian, Japanese language literary production, arguing that, “the birth of these new categories of writing suggests that a break between the art of writing and the art of statecraft developed in the mid-Heian period.”22 I agree, however, with scholars such as Joshua Mostow and Thomas LaMarre who argue that Japanese language literature of the mid-Heian period and beyond continued to be politically implicated.23 The preface to the 10th century imperial anthology, the Kokinwakash! (OSTUV Collection of Old and New Japanese Poems), is explicit about the political importance of literature. In contrast with Abe’s view, although Abe,“Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 181. Abe’s notion of Confucianism is overly broad and problematic. Although K!kai’s introduction of esoteric Buddhism eventually did have a profound impact on the development of Japanese Buddhism and cultural and political organization, it supplemented rather than replaced what came before it. The problem is that Confucianism was not an exclusive school of thought or an institutionalized presence that could be replaced. Instead, Confucius was a major thinker in a broad continental tradition that touched every aspect of life at court. Although esoteric Buddhism became politically central in the Heian court in a way it never was in the Tang, esoteric Buddhism’s prestige and legitimacy were still firmly connected to continental sources. 22 Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 183. 23 Thomas LaMarre, Uncovering Heian Japan: An Archaeology of Sensation and Inscription (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000); and Joshua Mostow, "The Amorous Statesman and the Poetess: The Politics of Autobiography and the Kagerô nikki," Japan Forum 4, no. 2 (October 1992): 305-15. Joshua Mostow, "Japanese Nikki as Political Memoirs," in Political Memoir: Essays on the Politics of Memory, ed. George Egerton (London: Frank Cass, 1994), 106-120. 20 21 10 Heian courtiers developed and refined new modes of literature in Japanese they did so within continental models regarding the political importance of literature. Because national languages and literatures are so implicated in modern national identity,24 literary studies have had particular difficulties articulating the relationship between Heian and Tang cultures. Culture is inextricably connected with language. Any mention of cultural translation, appropriation, or exchange automatically assumes two discrete cultures between which such exchange can take place. If the Heian court positioned itself as culturally contiguous with the Tang, conceptualizing this interaction as cultural exchange or translation is not particularly useful. Certainly, linguistic differences did not loom so largely in the mind of Ennin and his companions. Indeed, except for a few instances, it is difficult to determine what languages anyone is speaking or not speaking and linguistic differences are elided throughout, especially since the entire journal is written in the common language of Literary Sinitic. Scholars of Heian literature have been compelled to deal with this digraphic literary tradition. Heian Appropriation of Continental Literature As we have seen, the continent was a primary source for Heian culture, as well as a continuing resource for cultural and political capital to which Japanese rulers frequently turned. For example, the founding of the capital that inaugurated the Heian period created a new cultural field and opportunities for the deployment of cultural capital.25 This included a mission to the Tang that resulted in new Buddhist sects. The flourishing cultural production of the early Heian period, rooted primarily in 24 Benedict Anderson, “Cultural Roots” in Imagined Communities (London: Verso, 2006), 9-36. I borrow this terminology from Pierre Bourdieu. Pierre Bourdieu, The Field of Cultural Production (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993). 25 11 continental models, can also be seen as a response to these opportunities. Despite this flourishing, because Japanese literary studies have largely been limited to texts written in Japanese, the early Heian period is ignored by most scholars.26 In Japanese, the seminal, multivolume work addressing the period is entitled, The Dark Age of National Literature (WXYZ[\=]^ Kokuf! ankoku jidai no bungaku).27 Limiting Japanese literature to texts written in Japanese excludes huge swaths of Heian cultural production and gives an inaccurate representation of the field.28 Although most studies of Japanese literature begin with an acknowledgement of the parallel work in Literary Sinitic, without a more specific understanding of this work, the perspective of the field remains skewed. Most scholars of Japanese literature skip from the early 8th century Many"sh! (_`V Collection of a Myriad of Leaves) to the mid-Heian period with the first works written in kana. Earlier literary scholars, such as Konishi Junichi or Helen McCullough, accept the significance of Chinese literature in determining the concerns of Japanese culture, but rely on vague notions of influence that obscure the agency of Japanese poets. In this model, the greatest failing of poets writing kanshi ('R) is 26 Some exceptions are Donald Keene’s “Poetry and Prose in Chinese of the Early Heian Period” in Seeds in the Heart: Japanese Literature from the Earliest Times to the Late Sixteenth Century (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1993), 181-209; and Burton Watson’s Poetry & Prose in Chinese by Japanese Writers of the Early Period (New York: Columbia University Press, 1975). 27 Kojima Noriyuki abcd, Kokuf! ankoku jidai no bungaku, 9 vols. WXYZ[\=]^ (Hanawa shob# efg, 1968-2002). See also, Sato Kazuki, “‘Same Language, Same Race’: The Dilemma of Kanbun in Modern Japan,” in The Construction of Racial Identities in China and Japan: Historical and Contemporary Perspectives, ed. Frank Dikotter (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 1997), 118-135. 28 For a summary of the work on kanbun in western languages until 1998, see John Timothy Wixted, “Kanbun, Histories of Japanese Literature, and Japanologists,” Asian Interaction Journal 10, no. 2 (April 1998): 23-31. 12 simply their failure to write poetry in their own language.29 In an attempt to reverse this trend, Judith Rabinovitch and Timothy Bradstock’s translation of kanshi is a pioneering attempt to bring kanshi into the sphere of Heian literary studies, but the introduction does not go far enough in integrating kanshi into the entire Heian literary field.30 Although the translations are valuable in bringing to light the breadth and scope of this genre for the non-specialist, without an argument for how this intervention reshapes our understanding of the field as a whole, the status quo is unchallenged. In contrast, Thomas LaMarre and David Pollack have rejected the simplistic notions of “influence” that characterized earlier studies and have instead shown how the various Heian terms for Chinese (“kan”' “mana”hi “kara” j) designated aesthetic positions within Heian discourse whose value derived primarily from their Japanese context.31 In these studies, the focus is the Heian imagination of China, or the China within Japan. In addition to being aesthetically significant, these terms for China were politically significant in that they were connected to a set of powerful cultural technologies, including writing, rituals, organizational structures, and ideologies. Although LaMarre and Pollack consider the material dimension of Tang culture at the Heian court, neither considers the ways these ideas of China mediated the experiences and reports of Japanese who actually traveled to the continent. As a source of cultural capital, China was not only a tradition lost in the past that needed to be 29 Literally, kanshi is all poetry written in Literary Sinitic. Here I use it to mean poetry in Literary Sinitic by Japanese authors. 30 Judith Rabinovitch and Timothy Bradstock, Dance of the Butterflies: Chinese Poetry from the Japanese Court Tradition (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University East Asia Program, 2005). 31 LaMarre, Uncovering Heian Japan, 26-49; David Pollack, The Fracture of Meaning: Japan's Synthesis of China From the Eighth through the Eighteenth Centuries (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986). 13 rediscovered, but it was also a continuous tradition that invited periodic reacquaintance. Neither was China simply the Other to Japan, an imagined foreign culture against which one defined one’s own. Instead it was both foreign and a parallel origin, whose stories and histories were grafted by the Japanese onto their own past. Likewise, the cultural presence of a historical China, distant but accessible, is elided. Several authors have shown the continued relevance of the continental tradition in Heian literature from the mid-Heian period onward. Robert Borgen’s work on Sugawara no Michizane (klmn 845-903) portrays how natural the world of continental culture was to the Heian court.32 Likewise, Jason Webb’s work on the early Heian poet Ono Takamura (aop 802-53) shows that the continental literary models were familiar enough to be used ironically, or in a playfully subversive way.33 Wiebke Denecke uses the notion of reenactment to explain Heian courtiers’ anachronistic deployment of historical continental forms without regard for their contemporary currency.34 And in “Writing Like a Man,” Gustav Heldt challenges the notion that women were excluded from the Sinitic literary world, showing how fluency in this tradition was expected of women in various court positions.35 These various efforts to rehabilitate the reputation of kanshi in Japanese literary studies have also led to some excesses. In Japanese Kanshi (Nihonjin no kanshi DE q='R), Ishikawa Tadahisa argues this ability to compose poetry in a foreign 32 Robert Borgen, Sugawara No Michizane and the Early Heian Court (Cambridge, MA: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1986). 33 Jason P. Webb, “In Good Order: Poetry, Reception, and Authority in the Nara and Early Heian Courts” (PhD diss., Princeton University, 2005). 34 Wiebke Denecke, “Chinese Antiquity and Court Spectacle in Early Kanshi,” The Journal of Japanese Studies 30, no. 1 (2004): 97-122. 35 Gustav Heldt, “Writing like a Man: Poetic Literacy, Textual Property, and Gender in the ‘Tosa Diary,’” The Journal of Asian Studies 64, no. 1 (2005): 7-34. 14 language is unique, when, in fact, it was quite common throughout East Asia and the ancient world generally. Ishikawa states, “Actually, this [writing poetry in another language] is something very remarkable as it is found nowhere else in the world. However, there aren’t many people who understand this.”36 At the end of the introduction he strikes the same chord, “Japanese kanbun [prose in Literary Sinitic] and especially kanshi are unique accomplishments found nowhere else in the world, and so it is imperative that we recognize their true value and accept this tradition.” In a strange twist on linguistic nationalism, he argues for Japanese uniqueness because of their bilingual abilities. While I agree that Japanese should recognize kanshi as a legitimate cultural legacy, the idea that poetry composition in a language other than one’s spoken vernacular is at all unique shows a naturalization of the discourse of modern linguistic nationalism that is at odds with what we know of the premodern world. One need not go far to find counter examples. The educated classes of the Korean peninsula and what is now Vietnam wrote prose and poetry in Literary Sinitic. One could even argue that, by the Tang, there were no native speakers of Literary Sinitic. Although it was arguably closer to some dialects of Chinese than others, and closer to any of these than to Korean or Japanese, it was still a literary language. For centuries, Latin played a similar role throughout Europe. What makes this diglossia interesting is the contrast between its ubiquity in the premodern world and almost 36 “rstusvwxyz=B{|{}~By=B=•€•‚ƒCƒ„…=t:†‡ˆƒ‰{ •qsŠ‹B{Œ•Ž. . . . DE=']„:••‘'Rsvwxz=B{’“†”•„–u|y =B=•€•C—„tus˜™:yš›xœ•ƒ‰„…=žŸ† ¡ƒB‘u¢B—B{.” Ishikawa Tadahisa £¤¥¦, Nihonjin no kanshi: F!ga no kako e DEq='R$X§=¨©} (Taishukan shoten Lª«f¬, 2003), i. 15 complete invisibility, or supposed inauthenticity, today.37 In premodern East Asia, diglossia was the status quo for the elite, although the second language was a written language. This common written language created an extended cultural community. The divergence of spoken languages was no more a problem between states than it was within the Tang. We can still talk about interstate exchange, since each cultural field was largely independent of the others, but need to keep in mind this new context. In Japan, the early development and use of an orthography to represent Japanese was much more unique, although it was also predicated on earlier peninsular innovations.38 In order to draw attention to these more specific historical periods and more limited geography, I use the terms Heian-Tang cultural exchange instead of Japanese-Chinese cultural exchange, which presupposes unique, essentialized cultures that persist across time and whose boundaries correspond with the modern nation states’. Although this discussion of the relationship between Chinese and Japanese language poetry may not seem immediately relevant to Ennin’s journal, these studies of literature define the Heian cultural context within which Ennin operated. Also, explicating Ennin’s journal and its role in Heian-Tang cultural interaction will shed light on the developing field of Heian kanshi and kanbun studies. 37 Even in the modern world, there is however a handful of writers who are successful authors in languages other than their native tongues, such as Joseph Conrad, Ba Jin, Chinua Achebe, Vladimir Nabokov, etc. 38 David Barnett Lurie, “The Origins of Writing in Early Japan: From the 1st to the 8th century C.E.” (PhD diss., Columbia University, 2001). 16 Role of Religion in East Asian Cultural Exchange Religion also played a key role in interstate cultural exchange throughout Asia. Victor Mair, Tansen Sen, John Kieschnick and others have shown how Buddhism facilitated the introduction of subcontinental culture to China.39 Within East Asian, Buddhist monks traveled between states proselytizing Buddhism and continental culture. Monks accompanied the Japanese embassies to the continent and many of them stayed there to study for long periods of time, becoming continental cultural specialists who brought this knowledge back to the Japanese court. 40 Robert Buswell, discussing the role of Buddhist monks in bringing continental culture to the Korean peninsula, describes them as ritual specialists and purveyors of new cultural technologies.41 Continental religious ideas imported by Buddhist monks became key concepts in the formation of the early Japanese state. These included Confucian philosophy and Buddhism, as well as less easily categorized continental religious ideas, such as star worship and various forms of divination and geomancy.42 Even though Ennin was a Buddhist monk, he was interested in a wide variety of Tang governmental and religious 39 Tansen Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade: The Realignment of Sino-Indian Relations, 600-1400 (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2003); and John Kieschnick, The Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003). 40 Marcus Bingenheimer, A Biographical Dictionary of the Japanese Student-monks of the Seventh and Early Eighth Centuries: Their Travels to China and Their Role in the Transmission of Buddhism (München: Iudicium, 2001). 41 Robert E. Buswell, “Keynote address at Western Conference of the Association for Asian Studies,” in Denver, CO, October, 2008. See also, Robert E. Buswell, Currents And Countercurrents: Korean Influences on the East Asian Buddhist Traditions (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2005). Later, I take up this idea of cultural technology and argue that it is central to understanding Ennin’s journal. 42 Although Herman Ooms and David Bialock have described these traditions as Daoist, I question whether the Heian monarchs would have characterized these practices in this way. David T. Bialock, Eccentric Spaces, Hidden Histories: Narrative, Ritual, and Royal Authority from The Chronicles of Japan to The Tale of the Heike (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2007); Herman Ooms, Imperial Politics and Symbolics in Ancient Japan: The Tenmu Dynasty, 650-800 (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2009). 17 practices. As Marcus Bingenheimer’s transcription of records of earlier monks show, this eclecticism had a long history.43 From these Buddhist hagiographies, a clear cultural type of the student monk emerges, providing a framework within which Ennin probably understood his own role. Religious ideologies were also one important aspect of the cultural transfer between states, and they were defined broadly, without regard for contemporary distinction between religious traditions. Ennin’s Life and Journal44 Ennin was born around 794, the same year as the founding of the new capital, Heian-ky# (5-®), and the timing of his life corresponds with the early religious and cultural development of the new age. At age 14, he entered Enryaku monastery (¯° ±) on Mt. Hiei (²³´), joining the nascent Tendai (,µ) sect that had been established by Saich#. In 837, at the age of 43, Ennin was chosen as part of the 17th embassy to Tang China and left in 838. His posthumously written biography, the Jikaku Daishi den (¶·L¸ž),45 tells of a dream where Saich# appeared to Ennin and asked him to travel to the Tang to study esoteric Buddhism and bring back esoteric texts, scrolls, and implements for the Tendai sect. Although Saich# had also traveled to the Tang as part of his work in establishing the sect, he was only there for nine months and his esoteric credentials were inferior to his younger contemporary K!kai, who traveled with him, but stayed for three years and brought back many important 43 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary. For a general account of Ennin’s life, see Arikiyo Saeki ¹º»¼, Ennin #$ (Yoshikawa k#bunkan ½¤¾]¿, 1989). My account relies primarily on Ennin’s own account in his journal. 45 Account of the Great Master Jikaku (Ennin’s posthumous title). It has been translated into English by Enshin Sait# as Jikaku Daishi Den: The Biography of Jikaku Daishi Ennin (T#ky#: Sankib# Busshorin, 1992). 44 18 esoteric texts and commentaries. The embassy that Ennin accompanied was the first since Saich# and K!kai’s 30 years prior and ended up being the last official embassy to the Tang. Although Ennin had a definite agenda for his trip to the Tang, his final itinerary was also a response to many events completely beyond his control. After an eventful crossing that ended in his ship being wrecked on a shoal near the Yangzi (ÀÁ) river delta, Ennin’s party46 was rescued and escorted to Yangzhou (ÀÂ). He waited there trying to secure permission for himself and for his disciples to travel to Mt. Tientai (, µ´) while the main party moved on to the capital, Changan (Ã-). Tang officials refused to respond to Ennin’s request until the embassy was officially recognized by the emperor, at which point, the officials insisted that there was not enough time for him to make the long trip to Mt. Tientai and back before he was scheduled to sail home with the embassy. Caught in a bureaucratic catch twenty-two, he set sail with the returning embassy in 839. Waiting for a favorable wind, the embassy sailed north, following the coastline and buffeted by storms. Distressed by his failure to accomplish his goal, Ennin asked to be illegally dropped off on shore. His first attempt was thwarted when he was caught by Tang authorities and returned to the ship, but then several months later, he was successfully abandoned at the Mt. Chi cloister (Ä´Å) at the tip of the Shandong peninsula. 46 Ennin’s party consisted of himself, his two disciples, Igy# (ÆÇ) and Ish# (Æš) and Tei Y!man (È ÉÊ, alt. Tei Kachikomaro ÈËaÌÍ), his translator and servant. Although they are largely in the background for much of the text, it is important to remember that they were accompanying Ennin throughout his travels. Igy# died of an illness in 845, but the others accompanied Ennin back to Japan. Tei Y!man returned to China with Enchin, another Tendai monk, and assisted him in his travels to China after Ennin. 19 The Mt. Chi cloister was inhabited by monks from Silla (ÎÏ), the state that controlled the Korean peninsula in 668. Ennin stayed there for almost a year, until he was finally granted permission to travel. Since he was now far from Mt. Tientai in the south, the Sillan monks convinced him to change his plans and travel to Mt. Wutai (Ð µ´), in the north, which was a much more widely recognized holy site, but relatively unknown to the Japanese. He traveled to Mt. Wutai, where he made pilgrimages to the various peaks, copied texts and had his disciples ordained. From there he traveled south to the Tang capital Changan, where he began in earnest his study of esoteric Buddhism. In 843, the new Emperor Wuzong (+Ñ 814Ò846)47 began to persecute the Buddhist institutions of the Tang. Named the Huichang persecution for the reign name during which it took place, this oppression eventually resulted in the destruction of thousands of the Chinese monasteries and laicization of hundreds of thousands of monks. Although foreign monks were initially exempt, eventually Ennin was also forced to return to lay life. No longer subject to the strict regulations imposed on monks by the emperor, this change in status also allowed him to return to Japan. With help from various officials, he smuggled his collected texts back to Yangzhou and began to search for a way home. During this time, the Emperor Wuzong died and the next emperor lifted the proscription against Buddhism. After traveling up and down the coast, Ennin was finally able to return to Japan with some Sillan merchants and arrived back in Japan nine years after he left. Eight 47 There is some uncertainty over the dates of Wuzong’s birth. See Michael Robert Drompp, Tang China and the collapse of the Uighur Empire (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 42n9. 20 years after his return, Ennin became the third head of the Tendai sect. Ennin died in 864, at the age of 70. After his death he was the first monk posthumously awarded the title Daishi (L¸ Great Master), along with his master Saich# (who was probably awarded the title because it would have been unseemly to give the disciple a title higher than his master). Ennin’s biography is the longest in a contemporaneous imperial history, the Nihon sandai jitsuroku (DEÓ\rÔ), suggesting the significance of his journal and his life’s work to his contemporaries.48 This is in contrast with his relative obscurity today, even within Japan. This obscurity may be because his original journal is in Literary Sinitic, a language no longer accessible to modern Japanese, and his subject matter, as most Japanese no longer conceptualize their culture as fundamentally similar to the continent.49 Ennin’s diary survives in a single manuscript, copied in 1291 by the monk Ken’in (ÕÖ). It consists of four sections, or maki, literally ‘scrolls,’ but actually in a folio format. There is another manuscript that claims to be a different transmission, but most scholars agree it is a copy of the 1291 manuscript and was written to cover the embarrassment of the Tendai sect that the sole copy of this important document had been transmitted by a rival school.50 The first printed edition appeared in 1907 and an 48 Tar# Sakamoto, The Six National Histories of Japan, trans. John S. Brownlee (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1991), 181. See also Ennin’s journal, 864.1.14. The text is similar to that found in the Jikaku Daishi den by Prince Shinjaku, but the latter had not yet been completed. 49 Ennin is not an obscure figure in Japan, but he is not as well known as Saich# or K!kai. Although his journal has been translated into modern Japanese, because its original language was Literary Sinitic, it has not loomed as large in the canon as the later journals in Japanese. The most complete annotation and translation of Ennin’s journal is Ono Katsutoshi aoË×, Nitt" guh" junrei k"ki no kenky!, 4 vols. Ø jÙÚÛÜÇÝ=Þß (Suzuki gakush! saidan àá(âãä, 1964), but these four volumes are much too expensive for most individuals. A more readily available Japanese translation is Adachi Kiroku åæ çH and Shioiri Ry#d# èØém, Nitt" guh" junrei k"ki, 2 vols. ØjÙÚÛÜÇÝ (Heibonsha 5ê, T#y# bunk# ?ë]ì, 1970). 50 Reischauer, “Preface,” Ennin’s Diary, ix. 21 English translation was published by Edwin O. Reischauer in 1955 as Ennin’s Diary: A Record of a Pilgrimage to China in Search of the Law (ØjÙÚÛÜÇÝ), along with a companion volume Ennin’s Travels in T’ang China. Reischauer’s interest in and appraisal of the text also popularized it in Japanese scholarship where it has remained an object of inquiry. However, despite its relatively early translation into English, this dissertation is the first work since Reischauer’s to analyze Ennin’s journal as a whole. Cultural Technology One key term I have developed to interpret Ennin’s journal and make sense of its particular nexus of concerns and attitude towards cultural exchange is cultural technology. Although my use of the term is somewhat idiosyncratic, the term itself is hardly unique and has been used in a variety of related disciplines. Here, I would like to review these uses and discuss how each contributes to our understanding of Ennin’s attitude towards cultural exchange. The word culture is related to cultivate and refers to that which is learned or developed. It began by describing the human ordering of nature in agriculture, but has moved beyond this to encompass the entirety of human creation. In its current meaning, the term culture is of relatively recent origin.51 The SAGE Handbook of Cultural Analysis defines four successive views of culture in the West.52 Although these four views of culture are by no means comprehensive, I believe this typology 51 The earliest uses of the term culture are in the 17th century, but then the meaning is fairly restricted. Only in the 19th and 20th centuries does it really come to have the broad meaning it has today. Oxford English Dictionary, s.v. “Culture,” http://dictionary.oed.com (accessed July 27, 2009). 52 Tony Bennett, “Introduction,” The SAGE Handbook of Cultural Analysis, ed. Tony Bennett and John Frow (London: SAGE, 2008), 1-7. 22 accounts for most of the ways the term “culture” is used in non-specialized discourse. The first views culture as universal and opposes it with barbarism, or less developed cultures. Different cultures are positioned at different points along a single trajectory from simple to advanced. In the second view of culture, culture is defined as relative to time and space. Proponents of national culture and nationalism were early developers of this view. Franz Boas’s development of the discipline of modern anthropology was founded on these principles. From Boaz’s first students on, anthropologists have continued to define culture and practice cultural analysis.53 The third, Marxist view separates out culture from the social, political, and economic aspects of society. Marx was not really interested in culture at all, but argued that it is part of the superstructure that justifies the economic status quo, the means of production and distribution that are the real engine of change in society. However, Marx’s impact on cultural theory goes far beyond this initial formulation, as later Marxists such as Gramsci argue that culture plays a much more significant role in structuring human society. The fourth view sees culture as a resource that can be used for social, economic, and political gain.54 For example, Pierre Bourdieu discusses culture as a kind of capital that can be exchanged for other types, a concept I will revisit in greater detail shortly. This list is by no means exhaustive, but I think it 53 For example, Boaz’z student Alfred Kroeber, lists 120 definitions of culture in A. L. Kroeber, Culture; A Critical Review of Concepts and Definitions (Cambridge, MA: Museum, 1952). Other influential definitions have been Claude Levi-Strauss’s structuralist models of culture or Clifford Geertz’s “webs of meaning”. Claude Lévi-Strauss, Structural Anthropology (New York: Basic Books, 1963); Clifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays (New York: Basic Books, 1973). Today, anthropologists tend to avoid overarching ideas of culture altogether, preferring instead to focus on narrower sets of practices that are less problematic to define. 54 This view does not assume that culture is purely based on choice or subject to calculations of profit. It recognizes the extent to which some aspects of our culture are contingent and may seem beyond personal choice, while at the same time emphasizing culture’s important role in social, economic, and political networks and hierarchies. 23 provides a pretty good sense of the range of meaning and possibilities for culture. In each model, the content of culture differs and cultural exchange must be understood differently. In scholarly practice, different models are employed, depending on the process being described. For example, the adoption of wet rice agriculture and metallurgy in Japanese prehistory is often described in terms of the development from a simpler to a more advanced culture. But the use of Tang poetry in the Heian period is thought of as cultural exchange in the terms of the second model. (All discussion of cultural exchange assumes discrete, comparable culture and so operates under the second model.) I think Bourdieu’s definition of culture takes Marx’s into account and supersedes it, although they are somewhat compatible depending whether we are discussing state or individual strategies and uses of culture.55 Although Marx sets science and technology outside of culture, for Bourdieu, scientific knowledge, expertise, and equipment are forms of cultural capital. Since Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital is also very productive in understanding Ennin’s journal, I treat it in its own section following this discussion of cultural technology. The East Asian worldview defined culture both as universal and also as a resource—something that accomplishes work. There was an awareness of other cultures, but the primary mode of organization was hierarchical, employing both temporal and geographic hierarchies.56 The term cultural technology is useful in 55 Although it may be argued that class is more a important division for Marx than the nation state, national culture is by definition a state level activity. Subsequent Marxists have spent much time trying to augment and reformulate classical Marx’s inadequate exposition of culture and nationalism. 56 Occasionally, premodern East Asian authors have argued for a spatial relativity of cultures, but these arguments cut against the grain. For example, premodern Chinese Buddhists had trouble conceptualizing Indian civilization, as it presented a major challenge to their hierarchical 24 describing this East Asian view of culture because today most people think of technology as universal and outside culture, whereas culture is held to be specific and relative. For Ennin culture is both universal and functional. Culture is like technology because it works, but it is not reducible to its functionality. In premodern East Asia, culture worked because it was true—the claims it makes about the universe are accurate. Ennin needed a flexible concept to help him make sense of obvious cultural differences without losing either culture’s universality or functionality. Although Ennin never explicitly theorizes his position and obviously never uses the term “cultural technology,” I think it works well as a heuristic device to help us understand the world within which he operated. After exploring this concept of cultural technology further, I will discuss the East Asian view of ritual to examine how it corresponds to these ideas. The term cultural technology has fairly broad currency in several other fields. History of technology is a subfield in the history of any period, but it is particularly emphasized in modern and contemporary history, where advanced technology has become ubiquitous and a defining feature of life in the West, and pre-historic archeology, where technology takes the place of culture as the primary object of analysis, because prehistoric culture is, in a sense, unknowable. In studies that discuss the effect of modern technologies on culture, the term “cultural technologies” is used to describe relatively recent technological innovations like radio, film, television, and the Internet, and their profound effect on cultural conceptualization of culture. Daoxuan argued for India as the new center, while others argued for some kind of parity, or argued for each as a center in separate spheres. See Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 9. Likewise, Japan, in their relationship with China, ambiguously presented themselves as both an equal and as subservient. Wang, “Weights and Nuances in State Letters,” in Ambassadors from the Island, 139-179. 25 production, our conceptions of self, and the organization of society.57 Studies that focus on the changes precipitated by these new technologies operate on an implicit technological determinism. Each new invention reconfigures the cultural field in new ways, creating new possibilities for interaction.58 In response, others have argued that technology is itself always already culturally constituted and is a byproduct of other social determinants. Each successive form of technology only becomes culturally significant when it is relevant to existing ways of understanding the world. The context of new discoveries is as important as the discoveries themselves. This second view is more broadly applicable. When America was finally ‘discovered’ by the West in 1492, it was not the first time a European had arrived in the Americas, but the new context made this discovery significant for the first time. Oftentimes, a discovery is merely a recontextualization of existing information. Information is only significant when the context enables it to be understood and put to use in some way. In addition to many smaller, incremental discoveries, the most important discoveries do significantly restructure the world, but this only becomes apparent over time and in hindsight. In this model, the relationship between technological innovation and cultural context is dialectical. New techniques have to make sense to users to be adopted at all. The context also structures research and the kinds of questions that are asked in the first place. Television grew out of the radio, which grew out of various print forms and these cultural genealogies determined how each new medium was understood and deployed. However, the context does not determine completely what the next 57 See, for example, Christian Papilloud and Kornelia Hahn, eds. Cultural Technologies Within a Technological Culture: On the Hybrid Construction of Social Life (Zürich: Lit, 2008). 58 Celia Lury, “Cultural Technologies,” The SAGE Handbook of Cultural Analysis, ed. Tony Bennett and John Frow (Los Angeles; Sage, 2008): 570-2. 26 invention will be. Each new discovery is made within a certain context that defines how it will be used, but physical laws also determine what is possible. These specific insights can be applied to the Heian appropriation of Tang culture. In Ennin’s case, esoteric Buddhism, chanting techniques, and new ideas about sacred space were all specific cultural technologies that he transmitted from the Tang to the Heian society. Although he was not the first person to transmit these technologies, they were made significant by the recently reconfigured Heian cultural and political field. Likewise, the journal genre itself was a new cultural innovation, a technology that became significant in the early Heian period because of the new cultural paradigm centered on esoteric Buddhism—an argument I develop further in chapters one and six. The term technology can also refer to techniques of organization, of thinking, or can be totally organic, as in the case of technologies of the body. Foucault uses technology in this sense when he discusses technologies of power, such as the material technologies and techniques used to regulate the body that he describes in his history of incarceration or mental illness.59 Foucault’s insights are also useful in understanding the relationship between culture and our material, everyday existences, between the conceptualization of society and how that conceptualization manifests itself concretely in new forms of social organization and new technologies. Although the specifics of Foucault’s arguments about prisons or sexuality are not relevant to premodern East Asia, his conceptual framework can be productively employed. As we think through the specific issues of the Japanese appropriation of Chinese culture, both of political 59 Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization; a History of Insanity in the Age of Reason (New York: Pantheon Books, 1965); Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (New York: Vintage Books, 1979). 27 philosophy and luxury goods, esoteric ritual and metallurgy, it helps to keep Foucault’s conceptualization of power/knowledge and technology in mind. In each case, new ways of defining the government and its relationship to the people have material consequences. The material culture of the Heian court—temples and palaces built by foreign architects, roads, esoteric scrolls covered in Sanskrit, and the sumptuous Chinese court robes— have ideological weight, as visual, audible, and tactile manifestations of the power and ideology of the ruling class. Technologies, material and immaterial, are instruments of power. Technologies “reflect, strengthen, perform, or change power relationships.”60 Likewise, knowledge enables subjugation, control, and management. As Foucault reminds us, knowledge and power are inextricably combined. So much so that he combines them into a single concept of knowledge/power. So while Ennin’s journal seems like a dry record of details, dates, and transactions, this information about the Tang is an essential aspect of the Heian court’s claim to power, because in Foucauldian analysis power is located in the material regime of the everyday, as much as in the explicit political structure. The Heian court tried to maintain a monopoly on the importation of Tang luxury goods, just as they did on more obviously political materials such as books and religious technologies, because both kinds of objects were part of their conceptualization of power. The quotidian, material aspects of Ennin’s journal gain new significance when understood in this context. The term “cultural technologies” is also used by archeologists. The lack of written records that for the most part defines archeology forces them to rely exclusively 60 Gabrielle Hecht and Michael Thad Allen, “Introduction: Authority, Technology, and Political Machines,” Technologies of Power, ed. Thomas Parke Hughes et al. (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2001), 1. 28 on material remains. The idea of technology is very closely tied to the intersection of material and cultural. Because the immaterial ideologies of prehistoric cultures are ultimately unknowable, would be historians are left with a record that includes only material items, such as tools, pottery, and clothes that can only be understood from a technological perspective.61 Historians of technology, both modern and premodern, also analyze societies’ technological choices. They have found that societies make technological choices for a variety of reasons, including many irrational, non-technological ones. Although a society is aware of other possibilities, it considers its own to be superior. Rationality is contingent on your value system, which reminds us that technology is bent to serve cultural purposes, rather than the opposite. Beyond the basic necessities for survival, it is culture that determines the goals that technology is developed to pursue. Although most people want to survive, be free from hunger, and be comfortable, there are many documented instances where cultural preferences lead to starvation and collapse of societies, often due to a failure to adapt to changing circumstances.62 Thus, although the origin of technology is usually rational, changing circumstances may render certain technological solutions obsolete, or even harmful. Among historians of premodern China, there is a subset concerned with Chinese technology. Led by Joseph Needham and his students, the primary question is, why did China not experience the industrial and technological revolution in the same 61 This points to the arbitrariness of the relationship between culture and material. Cultures with similar material lives could have totally different interpretive frameworks. 62 Several case studies of such failures are explored in Jared Diamond’s Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed (New York: Viking, 2004). 29 way as the West?63 As Needham and his students amply demonstrate, it was not for lack of technological development. Many of the technological innovations credited with enabling Western world domination were in fact invented elsewhere, many in China.64 The very question assumes there is an answer that is not just contingent. It also imposes a narrower modern Western definition of technology onto premodern China, excluding things that cannot be proven by the scientific method. In the end, Needham’s own research proves that the answer to his question does not lie in technology at all, but in culture and the framework it provides for technology. So despite Needham’s attempt to separate technology from culture and examine it on its own and despite the huge contributions he and his students have made to understanding the material conditions of premodern China, in the end, cultural analysis remains central in determining the uses and relevance of technology in a society. One of Needham’s students, Francesca Bray, takes a slightly different approach and looks at the interrelationship between material technology and culture, showing how each affected the other during specific historical periods.65 For example, Bray shows how the technology of silk production in the late imperial period influenced women’s roles and the definition of gender. This kind of dialectical analysis of culture and material technologies seems particularly fruitful, because it allows for the impact of material technologies and techniques, which are often ignored, but does so in a particular cultural framework. In order to understand the particularly East Asian 63 The result of this labor was the multivolume, Joseph Needham, ed. Science and Civilization in China, 5 vols. (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1954). 64 John M. Hobson, The Eastern Origins of Western Civilization (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2004). 65 Francesca Bray, Technology and Gender: Fabrics of Power in Late Imperial China (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1997). 30 understanding of culture and technology that forms the basis for Ennin’s journal, let us turn our attention to early continental ideas about culture and ritual. Chinese Concepts of Culture and Ritual as Technology In China, the term for culture is “wenhua” (jp:bunka ]í). Although it is a neologism made to correspond with the Western concept, the word “wen” has deep cultural roots. Rather than referring to agriculture as the term “culture” does the West, wen refers to patterns, both natural and man-made, in particular writing and literature, but also textiles. From the beginning, this concept of culture has been tied up with the material technologies that constitute culture. Also, unlike the Western concept, which quickly strays from its agrarian origins and is often described in contrast with the natural world, culture is seen as partaking of the patterns of the world and is ideally in harmony with them. In East Asian, human culture is defined as a form of cooperation with and correspondence to the natural world, rather than in conflict with it. This concept of wen is intimately connected with the philosophical rationale for ritual, which in turn is foundational for political legitimacy. In his introduction to Text and Ritual in Early China, Martin Kern describes this connection as follows: Deep into early imperial times, the capacious ideal of wen ] was primarily one of ritual order; it could embrace texts, but it was not restricted to them. The canonical text that elaborates by far most extensively on terms like wen and wenzhang ]î (“patterned brilliance,” a term that only in late Western Han times began to refer to textual compositions) is, unsurprisingly, the Liji (Records of ritual), in particular in its essay on music, the “Yueji” ïÝ (Records of music).66 66 Martin Kern, “Introduction: The Ritual Texture of Early China,” in Text and Ritual in Early China, ed. Martin Kern (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2005), xiii. 31 Although wen is primarily thought of in relationship with literature, it also had aural and visual components, such as the layout of the text on a scroll or bell.67 Ritual was seen as the aesthetic apex because of the way it combined all of these elements into a complete whole. Also, literature originated from ritual practice. The poems of the Shi jing (Rð) were sacrificial and agricultural hymns and these formed the putative basis for the subsequent development of literature. The Mao preface to the Shi jing, which explicitly connects literature and ritual practice, was also adapted and used as a preface for imperial anthologies of Japanese poetry.68 In the same volume, Michael Nylan provides a list of ideas stemming from recent archeological discoveries that have overturned traditional assumptions about classical China. Perhaps the two most pertinent to this study are her conclusions that, “The dividing line between science and superstition did not exist,” and “Culture was far less ‘interior’ than hitherto thought, with a greater emphasis on performance and embodiment.”69 Both of these insights correspond to a more technological view of literature and ritual, two of the most visible and highly theorized aspects of early East Asian culture. Both, in turn, were integrally connected with political legitimacy, again emphasizing their functional aspect. Nylan continues, “text and ritual are always connected with power, past, and memory . . . At every level of society, text and ritual 67 Kern, “Introduction,” xiii-xiv. “Altogether it is not difficult to show how in early China the aesthetic manifestations of literature and calligraphy emerged directly out of contexts of ritual performance where verbal expression and the display of writing were part of a larger synesthetic whole. The cultural artifact that can be regarded as the emblem of the process through which the discourse of (poetic) text emerged gradually out of the earlier one of music is the ‘Great Preface’ (Daxu Lñ) to the Odes.” Kern “Introduction,” xiv. 69 Michael Nylan, “Toward an Archeology of Writing,” in Text and Ritual in Early China, ed. Martin Kern (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2005), 5. 68 32 operated in tandem to enhance authority.”70 This functional aspect corresponds with the view of culture as technology. Nylan also stresses the technical aspect of such performances, as well as their reproducibility. Citing the Zhuangzi, Nylan explains, Given the nearly infinite applicability of text and ritual to areas well beyond their original scope, the capacity to write well or perform ritual correctly was identified as a marvelous technique (shu â) . . . The famous story of the Wheelwright Bian in the Zhuangzi òÁ certainly plays with this notion: the duke disdains the lowly artisan, even as he values the fine craftsmanship of his exquisite ritual paraphernalia. The artisan, illiterate, but much wiser, is surprised that the duke cannot see the obvious: that the artisan’s craft, just as much as writing, “has art in it somewhere.”71 Although the Zhuangzi is purposefully iconoclastic, challenging the cultural fixation on writing and written texts, as well as ideas about social class and mastery of what forms of art constitute cultural capital, it makes its point by appealing to norms that were universally accepted, that knowledge worth having must be embodied and was the result of long years of training. The idea that there were universal principles underlying the mastery of diverse areas of expertise also suggests a technical approach to culture. One result of this way of thinking is that this cultural capital is understood as embodied in individuals. In contradistinction to our modern understanding of technology as something open and readily available, all technical subjects were somewhat esoteric. Nylan continues, “But potentially of greater value than any single text, or ritual item were the people who could wield them, for they had acquired their proficiency over long years of training. Therefore, powerful rulers, in making their 70 71 Nylan, “Toward an Archeology of Writing,” 8. Nylan, “Toward an Archeology of Writing,” 10. 33 courts repositories of texts and rituals, gathered around them as many experts as possible.”72 Although Nylan is speaking specifically about Warring States China, the idea was influential throughout East Asian history. One major component of the Japanese embassies to the Tang was sending students to study in the Tang and bring back their cultural knowledge in this way. This explains why the earliest missions included not only monks and scholars of literature, but also craftsmen and artists. The East Asian concept of ritual also corresponds closely with the idea of cultural technology. Although ritual might seem like only one small aspect of culture, the continental tradition defined ritual broadly to include all forms of ritual propriety, decorum, and social hierarchies. Thus, the concept of ritual was central to the East Asian conceptualization of culture. Furthermore, the cultural technologies described in Ennin’s journal are primarily ritual technologies and I frequently use both terms. Ritual was a central component of ancient continental concepts of political legitimacy and effective rulership. In particular, the Confucian perspective on ritual held it up as the ideal and only lastingly effective mode of social control. When Confucianism became the dominant discourse for the imperial state, these concepts of ritual also became enshrined as state ideology, even if their implementation was always mediated by practical concerns. In Offerings of Jade and Silk, Howard Wechsler explains, With the rise of the unitary state and of Confucianism to a position of dominance at about the beginning of our era, Confucians served as experts in the field of ritual, discoursing on both its proper forms and manipulating it for political ends, . . . At the same time, in their roles as historians, ritualists, and scriptural exegetes, they served as the guardians of political legitimacy and as some of the most powerful 72 Nylan, “Toward an Archeology of Writing,” 10. 34 manipulators of its symbols. Since early time in China, legitimacy, ritual and symbol have, as elsewhere, been inextricably commingled.73 Although ritual is everywhere part of the apparatus of state control, in early China this discourse on ritual was formulated explicitly very early and continued as a defining feature of imperial government. In particular, I am interested in the instrumentality of ritual, as it corresponds closely with the idea of ritual as cultural technology. Let us examine some traditional statements on ritual that develop this aspect of Chinese ritual theory. The earliest stratum of this functional definition of ritual can be found in the Analects. In 3.12, the Master (Confucius) states, “Unless I take part in a sacrifice, it is as if I did not sacrifice” (óôõö÷øôö).74 The efficacy of the ritual is not linked to its ability to influence dead ancestors or spirits, but rather its effect on the living participants in the ritual. Ritual is defined by its social functionality, rather than its spiritual functionality. In the Lunheng (ùú Discourses), the iconoclastic Wang Chong (ûü 27– c.100 AD) takes this view even further. He states unequivocally that he does not believe in ghosts,75 but still argues for the efficacy of sacrifices to ancestors because of their effect on the living. “Because, while they are alive, it is customary to maintain our parents, this duty cannot be shirked, when they are dead. Therefore we sacrifice to them, as though they were alive” (ý[»þÿdm÷!"#ô$%÷& ªö'÷(øý)).76 Here too, ritual is defined in terms of its social function, as an 73 Howard J. Wechsler, Offerings of Jade and Silk: Ritual and Symbol in the Legitimation of the T'ang Dynasty (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985), 9. 74 Analects, trans. D.C. Lau (New York: Penguin Books, 1983), 69. 75 Wang Ch’ung, Lun-hêng: Philosophical Essays of Wang Ch’ung, trans. Alfred Forke (New York: Paragon Book Gallery, 1962), 2:397. 76 Wang Ch’ung, Lun-hêng, 1:522. 35 expression of gratitude to one’s ancestors and progenitors, and its effect on the practitioners, rather than on the unseen world. Centuries earlier, Xunzi (*Á) also developed the logical rationale of this view of ritual. Xunzi argued that the purpose of ritual is to satisfy men’s desires and that rituals are thus a sagacious response to conditions inherent in human nature. He argued that ritual is the only way to truly satisfy human desire and create a peaceful society. He develops his argument as follows: What is the origin of ritual? I reply; man is born with desires. If his desires are not satisfied for him, he cannot but seek some means to satisfy them himself. If there are no limits and degrees to his seeking, then he will inevitably fall to wrangling with other men. From wrangling comes disorder and from disorder comes exhaustion. The ancient kings hated such disorder, and therefore they established ritual principles in order to curb it, to train men’s desires and to provide for their satisfaction, and material goods did not fall short of what was desired. Thus both desires and goods were looked after and were satisfied. This is the origin of ritual. Rites are a means of satisfaction. Grain-fed and grass-fed animals, millet and wheat, properly blended with the five flavors—these are what satisfy the mouth. The odors of peppers, orchids, and other sweet smelling plants—these are what satisfy the nose. The beauty of carvings and inlay, embroidery and patterns—these are what satisfy the eye. Bells and drums, strings and woodwinds—these are what satisfy the ear. Spacious rooms and secluded halls, soft mats, couches, benches, armrests, and cushions—these are what satisfy the body. Therefore I say the rites are a means of satisfaction. (+,-./012qý3» 4÷43ô5÷6ô78Ù‚Ù389:;w÷6ô7ô<=<6 >÷>6?‚@ûAB>/÷&C+#D;d÷Dþqd4÷Eq dÙ‚F4Gô?-H÷HGôI-4‚JKL”3Ã÷˜+dM ,/‚&+Kþ/‚NOP4÷ÐQRS÷MDþT/=UVW!÷ MDþX/=YZ[\÷]^]î÷MDþ_/=`abc÷de "f÷MDþg/=hg!i÷jkl#mn÷MDþo/‚&+ Kþ/).77!p 77 Xunzi: Basic Writings, trans. Burton Watson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2003), 93-4. 36 It is the human condition to desire certain things. Ritual both provides for desires and also trains humans to limit those desires, by reinforcing hierarchical relationships and by training the mind to appreciate an aesthetic of restraint. Although we tend to think of ritual in abstract terms, as a religious or spiritual act with primarily otherworldly consequences, Xunzi defines ritual in material, experiential terms. This accords with Foucault’s idea that individuals subject themselves through bodily practice. From this perspective, ritual represents the pinnacle of human civilization and technology. The material accoutrements of ritual are the finest products of the human world. In addition to our physical desires, ritual fulfills the human need for order and for expression. Xunzi takes this functionalist argument a step further, arguing that without ritual desires cannot be satisfied. “Therefore if a man concentrates on fulfilling ritual principles, then he may satisfy both his human desires and the demands of ritual principles; but if he concentrates only upon fulfilling his desires, he will satisfy neither” (&qqd-+#÷6J5dr=qd-st÷6Judr).78 Paradoxically, ritual is the only way to answer these human needs. Thus the definition of ritual is functional, but also universal, since it is the only lasting solution to a universal problem. For the remainder of his chapter on ritual, Xunzi addresses some of the most common ritual practices such as funerary rites and explains how they correspond with natural human responses to death and loss. He contrasts these practices with other ideas, particularly those of the Mohists, who argued against ritual as wasteful of resources. Xunzi argues that such crass utilitarianism shows a lack of understanding of 78 Xunzi, 95. 37 human nature and makes humans no better than animals. For Xunzi, ritual is a response to human nature and also encourages and develops its humanity, whereas a lack of ritual, or ritual improperly observed has the opposite effect. This connection between humanity and ritual is also developed in the Book of Rites (Li ji +Ý). Ritual is described as a uniquely human trait and one that comes as the pinnacle of human development. As in the Xunzi, ritual functions in predominantly physical, material ways. In light of all the possible ways to contextualize ritual practice, the following passage is revealing: Formerly the ancient kings had no houses. In the winter they lived in caves which they excavated, and in the summer in nests which they had framed. They knew not yet the transforming power of fire, but ate the fruits and plants of trees, and the flesh of beasts and birds, drinking their blood, and swallowing (also) the hair and feathers. They knew not yet the use of flax and silk, but clothed themselves with feathers and skins. The later sages then arose, and men (learned) to take advantage of the benefits of fire. They moulded the metals and fashioned clay, so as to rear towers with structures on them, and houses with windows and doors. They toasted, grilled, boiled, and roasted. They produced must and sauces. They dealt with flax and silk so as to form linen and silk fabrics. They were thus able to nourish the living, and to make offerings to the dead; to serve the spirits of the departed and God. In all these things we follow the example of that early time. (vK@û÷w» xy÷z6{|}÷~6{$%‚w»•í÷€•ád‚„ƒ„d …÷†B‡÷ˆB‰‚w»ÌŠ÷‹BŒ•‚Ž•»•÷‘Žª• d’÷“”•–÷D—˜&„xy„'"÷D™Dš÷D›Dœ÷ D—•ž=ŸBÌŠ÷D— ¡÷Dþý¢!÷DP£¤¥>÷¦ §B¨).79 The purpose of this passage is to explain the origin of ritual. Here the rites are viewed as a natural extension and culmination of technologies of sustenance and shelter. The material surplus created by technological advances enabled a higher standard of living 79 Li chi: Book of Rites. An Encyclopedia of Ancient Ceremonial Usages, Religious Creeds, and Social Institutions, trans. Alfred Legge, ed. Ch’u Chai and Winberg Chai (New Hyde Park, NY: University Books, 1967), 1:369. 38 and also a higher level of consciousness. In addition to caring for immediate, physical needs, it became possible to care for the dead and for emotional, spiritual needs. Although this formulation differs from Xunzi’s, it still places ritual firmly in the material realm, as a technological response to the human condition. Other passages in the Li ji also explicitly emphasize the instrumentality of ritual. For example, “Ceremonies form a great instrument in the hands of the ruler” (˜&÷ +K©dLª/).80 Or, “Of all the methods for the good ordering of men, there is none more urgent than the use of ceremonies” (êŸqdm÷«¬-+).81 The Li ji then continues, explaining why ritual is so efficacious: Sacrifice is not a thing coming to a man from without; it issues from within him, and has its birth in his heart. When the heart is deeply moved, expression is given to it by ceremonies; and hence only men of ability and virtue can give complete exhibition to the idea of sacrifice. (-öK÷™H®¯°K/÷®;Jý-±/=±(3²dD+‚ ˜&÷³´K7µöd#).82 Ritual works because it is an extension of natural human feelings and expressions. Of course, this explanation also provides an antidote to purely utilitarian or Machiavellian explanations of ritual practice. Because ritual is a natural extension of natural human emotions, it cannot be faked. An emperor who performed the required sacrifices to Heaven and Earth without the proper sense of piety and gratitude will not be able to properly perform the sacrifice and accrue its benefits. Of course, proper performance of the ritual also helps create the feelings appropriate to it. In addition to its positive effects on subjects, ritual also creates rulers worthy of ruling. 80 Li chi, 1:375. Li chi, 2:236. 82 Li chi, 2:236. 81 39 The Li ji also links ritual with other modes of social control. “The end to which ceremonies, music, punishments, and law conduct is one; they are instruments by which the minds of the people are assimilated, and good order in government is made to appear” (+ﶷ÷B¸q/=MD¹º±3JŸm/).83 This discourse on music is also related to the discourse on literature. The earliest forms of literature, the shi of the Shijing (Rð Odes), were performed to music as part of ritual performances. The Tang views of ritual largely corresponded to these classical antecedents. Again, as Wechsler explains, Ritual had, furthermore, been viewed since classical times as one of the most effective ways of cultivating moral values and regulating human emotions. It was therefore seen as one of the best means of facilitating social control and fostering popular acquiescence to the exercise of authority.84 He then summarizes the Tang views of ritual based on the ritual section of Sui history.85 Ritual is a human creation. Consequently, it is flexible and adaptable to contemporary circumstances. In addition to its beneficial restraining influence on the people and officials, ritual served as a check on imperial absolutism and restrained imperial excess. Early Tang rulers were explicitly concerned with ritual practice, and reviving old ritual orthodoxy for use in government.86 Ritual was not merely employed within the Tang Empire, but was also central to Tang foreign policy. Rituals for foreign guests were one of the five types of ritual described in the introduction to the 83 Li chi, 2:93; quoted in Wechsler, Offerings of Jade and Silk, 30. Wechsler, Offerings of Jade and Silk, 225. 85 Wechsler, Offerings of Jade and Silk, 29. 86 Wechsler, Offerings of Jade and Silk, 40-43. 84 40 ritual section of the Sui History.87 Ennin’s encounters with Tang officials were mediated through these ritual forms. The Heian court was modeled on the Tang and shared its faith in the efficacy and power of ritual. Although there are no known treatises from early Japan on ritual, the government’s annual schedule of Buddhist and other ritual practices, its ritual responses to various kind of crisis, and its interest in Tang ritual practice all show that it ascribed to and implemented this East Asian concept of ritual practice. Heian bureaucrats viewed ritual as effective socially for the participants, but they also saw it as effective in otherworldly terms, as there is little evidence of skepticism like Wang Chong’s. One substantial difference in the Heian and Tang view of ritual is the Heian court’s greater reliance on Buddhist institutions for the performance of court rituals. Unlike this Confucian view of ritual, Buddhist ritual theory understood ritual as spiritually efficacious, both in this worldly terms and also soteriologically. Although the Buddhist rationale differed considerably from the Confucian, in terms of practice, the two views were compatible. As Ennin’s record amply demonstrates, Buddhist practitioners also approached ritual primarily from a technical, procedural point of view. Also, because Buddhism was defined primarily in relationship to the state, Buddhist insitutions implicitly accepted the dominant cultural rationale. Cultural Capital Another theorist whose work I find useful in explaining Ennin’s journal and the relationship between Heian and Tang culture is Pierre Bourdieu.88 Bourdieu maps out 87 Wechsler, Offerings of Jade and Silk, 49. Sui shu, 6 vols. », ed. Tang Weicheng et al. j¼) (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju ½®:;¾f¿, 1982). 41 culture in economic terms and situates the cultural field as a subfield of the field of power. Although I do not believe that this scheme accounts for all of the facets of culture, or exhausts its significance, it is useful for understanding the relationship between culture and power, as well as possible motives for cultural appropriation. Bourdieu’s sociological work relies on vast amounts of data and he states that his theory of culture is descriptive and explanatory, rather than predictive. Correspondingly, he argues that each field needs to be understood in its own specificity. Thus, his model is merely a schema for arranging data, rather than a prescription for how it should fit together. For instance, it might be possible to imagine a society where cultural capital was more significant than economic capital in determining power. In “Forms of Capital,” Bourdieu outlines three types of capital: economic capital, social capital, and cultural capital.89 Economic capital is the most familiar and requires little explanation. Social capital refers to our relationships with other people. Bourdieu divides cultural capital still further into three forms: embodied, objectified, and institutional. Embodied cultural capital is who you are, your way of being in and relating to the world. It must be acquired slowly over time through individual effort. Objectified cultural capital consists of physical objects that can be owned but confer prestige beyond their mere economic value, such as scientific instruments, or works of art. Although anyone could own such items, in order to consume them and so generate 88 For another short description of Bourdieu’s work and discussion of its relevance to East Asian literature see, Ivo Smits, “Places of Meditation: Poets and Salons in Medieval Japan,” in Reading East Asian Writing: The Limits of Literary Theory, ed. Michael Hockx and Ivo Smits (New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003). 89 Pierre Bourdieu, “Forms of Capital,” in Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education, ed. J. Richardson (New York: Greenwood, 1986), 241-58. 42 cultural capital from their possession, one must understand and appreciate their cultural meanings and significance, an act that requires embodied cultural capital. Finally, institutional cultural capital is embodied in institutions such as schools that grant degrees and academic recognition, creating a standard measure that facilitates the conversion of cultural capital into economic capital, and vice versa. To Bourdieu’s list we might add spiritual capital, or prestige generated within religious fields. The field is simply the structure of social relations, where the various forms of capital are deployed. It is the site of struggle for position and for determining what constitutes capital. The field is a concept that only exists insomuch as it exerts influence and has effects. Different fields can be interrelated. For the Heian court, the political field was predominant, with economic, cultural, and religious subfields all contributing various types of capital and opportunities to position oneself advantageously in the political field. “Habitus” is a term Bourdieu coined to describe an individual’s “feel for the game,” or the implicit practical logic that governs how he operates within the field. It is a function of one’s position in the field, as well as individual proclivities. Bourdieu’s use of economic terminology for the processes of social and cultural reproduction emphasizes the relationships between the different forms of capital, their functional similarity, and, especially, their transferability. One kind of capital can be exchanged for another. Economic capital can be transformed into cultural and social capital (the primary purpose of elite schools). Both cultural and social capital aid in acquiring economic capital. As culture is often held to be outside economic 43 considerations, the term “cultural capital” creates a juxtaposition that highlights culture’s complicity with power. One difficulty with using Bourdieu to understand premodern societies is that because there is so much less information about premodern societies and how they understood their situation, it is hard to amass the same kind of rich data sets. Likewise, fieldwork is impossible. However, some sources are more productive than others, and Ennin’s journal is particularly useful in understanding the field of cultural exchange between the Heian court and the Tang. Although Ennin’s journal does not illuminate the entire cultural, religious, or political fields of the Tang or Heian court, it traverses all of them.90 Rather than try and conclusively explicate any of these fields, I instead focus on the exchanges within and between them. Thus the focus is more on various kinds of capital than on the complete layout of the fields. Still, it may be useful to roughly sketch some of the fields within which Ennin operated, without attempting to be exhaustive. In Heian Japan, the cultural and religious fields were subfields of the political field. Their value was largely determined by their contributions to that field. Continental culture was central to the discursive formation of Japanese imperial legitimacy. The cultural and religious fields were seen as universal and larger than state boundaries, although in fact, most interaction took place within each state with only occasional interstate interaction. Of the states, the Tang was the most prestigious by virtue of its size and location, enabling it to position itself as the most direct heir of the continental cultural tradition. 90 For a summary of literary field of Heian Japan, see Rein Raud, "The Heian Literary System: A Tentative Model," in Reading East Asian Writing: The Limits of Literary Theory, ed. Michael Hockx and Ivo Smits (New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003). 44 There was more frequent interstate interaction in the religious field, as many religious figures traveled between states and took up permanent residence in other states.91 Individual monks might move from more prestigious states to less as missionaries, or from less prestigious states to more as pilgrims and students. In each case, religious travel was motivated by the differential of the spiritual prestige of different states and holy sites within states. The religious field also included India, in an uneasy relationship to the otherwise central Chinese state. Within each state, the religious field was occupied by competing institutions. In the Tang, there was a perennial contest between Daoist and Buddhist institutions for patronage and political power. The balance of power was also influenced by politics, as competing factions aligned themselves with different religious institutions. In Heian Japan, the contest was between competing Buddhist sects, who, by the end of the Heian period, were razing each other’s temples and descending on the capital with swarms of armed monks and attendants.92 Likewise, much of the literary production of the Heian period can be linked to attempts by various political factions to generate cultural capital that would be politically useful. From its earliest iterations, East Asian literary theory linked poetic production to the health and legitimacy of the state. During the Heian period, this discourse on poetry and the state was found in the issuing of imperial anthologies, as well as the composition of poetry at court events and poetry contests. Even ostensibly 91 Peninsular monks were especially active throughout the Tang and made many significant contributions to the international religious field. See Buswell, Currents and Countercurrents. The Sillan cloister at Mt. Chi is also evidence of this overlap. 92 Mikael Adolphson, The Gates of Power: Monks, Courtiers, and Warriors in Premodern Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2000). 45 personal forms, such as journal writing and love poems were potentially politically important. Ennin’s journal is an account book of his various transactions of social, economic, cultural, and religious capital. His experiences in the Tang, beginning with the hardships of the journey, his pilgrimage to sacred sites, studying in Changan, interaction with Tang bureaucrats, and observation of Tang government rituals were all sources of prestige and cultural and religious capital. His relationships with Tang and Sillan officials also generated social capital that was at least useful while he was in the Tang. Likewise, Ennin recorded his occasional income and expenses in his journal as well. Of course, this record of economic capital also contributed to or derived from his store of spiritual capital since when he received goods they were usually donations to him as a Buddhist monk on a pilgrimage. Likewise, many of his expenses consisted of donations for maigre feasts or paying for the copying of mandalas, both of which also generated merit. Summary of Chapters My dissertation distills from Ennin’s journal a short list of his most prominent themes as an attempt to understand the journal as a unified whole and Ennin’s perspective on the relationship between the Heian and the Tang. One idea that runs throughout each chapter and helps unify them is the idea of cultural technology and, to a lesser extent, considerations of cultural capital. However, each chapter also has its own particular argument and set of concerns and responds to work being done in different academic fields. 46 In the first chapter, I attempt to contextualize Ennin’s travels and his journal by looking for precedents in the Japanese journal tradition prior to Ennin, the records of traveling monks from China, and the history of Buddhist travel from Japan to China. Ennin’s interest in a broad spectrum of Tang culture is consistent with his predecessors, and makes sense in terms of the consensus view of the compatibility of the imperial and Buddhist cosmologies. Ennin’s particular agenda and motivation to seek after esoteric Buddhism is best understood in terms of his immediate predecessor, Saich# and Saich#’s relationship with K!kai. K!kai’s development of a new esoteric religious paradigm in the early Heian period changed the field considerably. Ennin’s inauguration and development of the monk journal can be understood as a response to these changes. This chapter is the first to situate Ennin’s work in relation to the continental tradition and to other developments within early Heian Buddhism. In the second chapter, I use Ennin’s accounts of Tang ritual to develop the concept of cultural technology. In the first two sections, I will give a general overview of the concept of ritual technology and examine how it is manifested in the Tang festival calendar. Finally, in the third section, I examine those moments where Ennin explicitly compares Tang, Heian, and Sillan festivals and rituals. Here we find that Ennin makes no attempt to carve out a separate cultural space for Japan, but instead insists on the fundamental unity of Tang and Heian cultures. This contrasts with his description of Sillan rituals where he instead emphasizes their foreignness and difference. Again, mine is the first work to analyze Ennin’s journal as an example of the Heian appropriation of Tang culture and what it says about the Heian court’s relationship to the Tang. It also contributes to our understanding of the relationship 47 between the various religious traditions in East Asia, supporting the growing consensus among scholars of religious studies that the divisions between Buddhism and the other traditions were malleable and institutional, rather than doctrinal and absolute. In chapter three, I continue these same themes, but with Ennin’s records of Buddhist rituals. In the first section, I discuss how Ennin’s records of maigre feasts show the range of possible uses of a single ritual, and his detailed transcriptions suggest a utilitarian motive. His records of his study of esoteric Buddhism are much fewer and less complete considering their weight in later accounts of his travels. This discrepancy can be explained by the still incomplete incorporation of esoteric Buddhist ideas with Tendai doctrines and Ennin’s own lack of esoteric training prior to traveling to China. In the final section, I argue that Ennin’s study of Sanskrit needs to be understood as part of his interest in chanting and in ritual performance. This chapter provides more concrete examples that flesh out the concept of ritual technology. It also adds to the growing body of work by Buddhologists emphasizing actual ritual and material practices over purely doctrinal formulations. And it outlines in a concrete way the transmission of ritual practices between the Tang and Heian Buddhist communities. Chapter four details Ennin’s interaction with the Tang bureaucracy, consisting primarily of his many letters to and from officials and his records of government rituals. In addition to the practical importance of such knowledge, it also constitutes a kind of cultural capital and confirms Ennin’s and by extension the Heian court’s membership in the East Asian cultural sphere. This chapter emphasizes the practical, non-Buddhist aspects of Ennin’s journal and their relationship to the purpose of his overall mission. 48 It also contributes to the scholarship on East Asian letter formats, by highlighting their persuasive aspects in addition to their purely formulaic and social aspects. Chapter five follows Ennin on his travels to Mt. Wutai and through the sacred Buddhist and imperial pathways of the Tang. Although he does not seem to understand much of their significance at the time, Ennin brings many of these ritual practices and their accompanying architecture back to Japan. The new ideas about sacred space embodied in these practices become the foundation for some of the most iconic Tendai practices, such as the kaih"gy" (ÀÁÇ), a ritual circumambulation of Mt. Hiei. By connecting Ennin’s time on Mt. Wutai to the esoteric development of the Tendai sect and the development of Mt. Hiei as sacred space, this chapter begins to map out some connections between the mountain religious traditions of different East Asian states. Although each tradition has been studied on its own, there has been little work that examines the connections between them, both physical and doctrinal, and this chapter begins to sketch some possibilities. Chapter six addresses the Huichang persecution of Buddhism. One of the worst persecutions of Buddhism in Chinese history, it threatened to undermine Ennin’s assumption of the unity of the imperial and Buddhist system. Analyzing Ennin’s account of the persecution, I find that he continually affirms the compatibility of the two systems and instead blames the persecution on the emperor and his Daoist advisors. I also question the argument that the Huichang persecution was economically or politically beneficial, showing instead its negative impacts in both areas. The final chapter follows Ennin back to Japan to determine the role of his journal in the subsequent flourishing of the journal tradition. In particular, I examine 49 the courtier, monk, and kana journals together and argue for a fundamental similarity of purpose, although each operated in different fields. I also argue that Ennin’s journal, while not the first, was foundational as one of the earliest journal responses to the new esoteric Buddhist paradigm that eventually had a profound effect on Heian culture and society. Here I follow others in positing the similarity of the kanbun and kana journals, but am the first to include a study of monks’ journals in relation to these. Creating a cultural genealogy of these monks’ journals helps contextualize each and clarifies some otherwise perplexing aspects such as why J#jin (Âà 1011-81), a monk who left in the late Heian period, had to sneak out of Japan. These journals, like Ennin’s, also stand as signposts that document the history of the interaction with the Tang over the course of the Heian period. Overall, this analysis of Ennin’s journal touches upon the relationships between East Asian states and their cultures and role of religion in interstate interaction. It also considers ritual, sacred space, and genre as cultural technologies. Many of the theoretical issues broached by these subjects, although interdisciplinary and diverse, are absolutely central to an understanding of East Asia as a culturally contiguous unit. Ennin’s journal is just one text among many, but, as a text positioned and positioning itself between the Heian court, the Tang, and Silla, it speaks directly to these issues of collective East Asian culture and identity. 50 Chapter 1. Precedents: Contextualizing Ennin’s Journal in the East Asian Tradition In this chapter, I attempt to recreate the East Asian journal tradition within which Ennin was working by examining possible precedents for Ennin’s journal. Although most of the Japanese precedents are no longer extant, there is plenty of evidence that they existed and that Ennin was not creating a new genre. Likewise, we must consider the Heian courtiers as they considered themselves, as the heir of a much older continental tradition. This cultural context provides clues about Ennin’s decision to keep a journal and of what to include. In contrast with much contemporary scholarship, where Ennin’s journal is selectively mined for historical source for information about daily life in Tang China or where the few places Ennin records subjective, emotional details are interpreted as anticipating the later Heian tradition of kana diaries (and the emergence of national literature in Japan), resituating Ennin’s record in this East Asian tradition allows us to make sense of the journal as a whole, with all of its seemingly incongruent parts.1 Furthermore, understanding the generic context provides the background necessary for determining what about Ennin’s journal was truly novel, its real effect on the journal genre, as opposed to its place in an already determined teleology of nation literature, and its significance in Heian society. Ueno Eiko 上野英子, “Nitt" guh" junrei k"ki no kijutsu ishiki ni miru jik# hy#shussei” 入唐求法巡礼 行記の記述に見る自己表出性, Jissen kokubungaku 実践国文学 12 (1981): 23-33; Watanabe Hideo 渡 辺秀夫, “Nikki bungaku no hassei: Nitt" guh" junrei k"ki wo megutte” 日記文学の発生:入唐求法巡礼 行記をめぐって, in Heian ch" bungaku to kanbun sekai 平安朝文学と漢文世界 (Bensei 勉誠, 1991), 241-62. Although Watanabe takes a slightly more nuanced view, his analysis still revolves around the question of subjectivity and objectivity, a modern concern. See also, %sone Sh#suke 大曽根章介, “Nitt" guh" junrei k"ki: Ch!goku e no guh# no tabi” 入唐求法巡礼行記:中国への求法の旅, #sone Sh"suke Nihon kanbungaku ronsh! 大曽根章介日本漢文学論集 (Ky!ko shoin 汲古書院, 1998), 22-31. On pages 28-31 especially, he talks about literary description and expression of emotion in Ennin’s journal. 1 51 The first step is to avoid naturalizing Ennin’s work by reading it as one would a modern diary. This is a tempting move because it makes the journal accessible. However, as Robert Borgen demonstrates in an examination of J#jin’s (成尋 1011-1081) journal, ignoring the differences between the modern and premodern journal genres can lead to serious misunderstandings. Modern readers expect a journal to be a firsthand report and thus reliable. In contrast, Borgen shows that long passages in J#jin’s journal are copied verbatim from other earlier written texts.2 Readers treating J#jin’s journal as a historical source for his contemporary situation would be mislead. In ancient East Asia, the journal genre had a different set of connotations. In China, the earliest use of the term for journal, riji (jp:nikki 日記) is in Wang Chong’s Lunheng (王充 27- 97 AD, 論衡), where it designates the Spring and Autumn Annals (Chunqiu 春秋) and the five classics. In subsequent uses, riji refers to the sources and notes used by scholars.3 Both have strong associations with pedagogy, which is somewhat different from the modern notion of a journal, but not completely foreign to the Western journal tradition.4 In Heian Japan, the purpose of courtiers’ journals was to pass down important information about political posts and precedents to one’s lineage. 5 Given this function, it makes sense that the authors maintain the perspective of an 2 Robert Borgen, “The Case of the Plagiaristic Journal: A Curious Passage from J#jin's Diary,” in New Leaves: Studies and Translations of Japanese Literature in Honor of Edward Seidensticker, ed. Aileen Gatten (Madison, WI: University of Michigan Center for Asian Studies, 1993), 63-88; Janet A. Walker, “Poetic Ideal and Fictional Reality in The Izumi Shikibu nikki,” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 37, no. 1 (1977): 135-182. 3 Tamai K#suke 玉井幸助, Nikki bungaku gairon 日記文学論 (Meguro shoten 目黒書店, 1945), quoted. in Nikki, kik" bungaku 日記・紀行文, ed. %sone Sh#suke et al. 大曽根章介, Kenky! shiry" Nihon koten bungaku no. 9 研究資料日本古典文学 (Meiji shoin 明治書院, 1984), 1. Matsuzono Hitoshi 松園斉, #ch" nikki ron 王朝日記論 (H#sei daigaku shuppan 法政大学出版, 2006). 4 Rene Descartes begins his Discourse on Method (New York: Barnes and Nobles Press, 2008) with a journal-like quality, and Benjamin Franklin’s Autobiography (New York: Penguin Books, 1986) was clearly intended to be didactic. 5 Nikki, kik" bungaku, 2. 52 official and tend not to record personal feelings. The term nikki was also used to describe records of various cultural events—festivals, sumo tournaments, prayers for rain, and poetry competitions.6 The dominant sense of the early nikki genre is not that of a personal record, but rather a semi-private record of a public event that could be consulted by future generations for precedents. I will return to these types of journals in my final chapter, and I only mention them here to highlight their similarity with continental forms. Although the term nikki does not appear anywhere in Ennin’s journal, his record clearly shares many of the defining characteristics of a journal and should be understood as an early and foundational example of the genre. The title of Ennin’s journal is commonly abbreviated to Junrei k"ki (巡礼行記) or “Travel Record of a Pilgrimage.” The final character in the both nikki and k"ki is 記 (jp:ki, ch:ji), which suggests their commonality as forms that are rooted primarily in the historical perspective. In East Asia, travel writing was a formative type of journal writing. Because there are so many more continental precedents, I will give a short overview of just the travel records and then focus my attention on Buddhist travel records However, for Japan I will examine a broader spectrum of daily records. Continental Precedents Because continental culture was foundational in the development of Nara and Heian state culture, it is worth considering how Ennin’s journal reflects this cultural 6 Nikki, kik" bungaku, 2. 53 context. 7 Although travel writing was not recognized as an independent genre until well into the Song dynasty, the travel record (ch:youji 遊記) flourished in the mid-eighth century and the journal in the eleventh and twelfth centuries.8 The earliest Chinese writings that we define today as travel writings were descriptions of imperial progresses, which measure and order “the political, spiritual, and material dimension of the world and … provide a guide for later rulers.”9 For example, the Shu jing (書経 Classic of Documents)10 describes the royal progress of the mythological King Shun (舜王). In addition to the functional aspects of these journeys—investigating the lay of the land for economical and military uses, and symbolically and economically incorporating peripheral lands into the royal court—they were symbolically and religiously significant. Similar royal progresses are described in the early histories of Japan.11 Travel records then transcribed this practical information and symbolic significance for future use. 7 For a summary of the Chinese tradition, I have consulted the following: Richard Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes: Travel Writing from Imperial China (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1994); James Hargett, “Yu-chi wen-hsueh,” in The Indiana Companion to Traditional Chinese Literature, ed. William Nienhauser (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1985), 936-939; James Hargett, “The Origin and Early Development of Travel Literature in China,” in On the Road in Twelfth Century China: The Travel Diaries of Fan Chengda (1126-1193) (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1989), 9-43; and Jeannette Mirsky ed., The Great Chinese Travelers (New York: Pantheon, 1964). The final contains translated selections of the “Chronicles of King Mu,” the Zhang Qian section from the Shiji, and excerpts from Xuanzang’s record, as well as many later records. 8 Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes, 4. For example, the Song anthology Wenyuan yinghua (文苑英華 987) contains the largest number of travel writings of any anthology until that point, but they are scattered throughout the other genres that organize the anthology. 9 Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes, 13. 10 Also known at the Shangshu (尚書). Zou Jiyou 鄒季友, Shu jing ji zhuan yin shi 書經集傳音釋 (Beijing: Zhongguo shu dian 北京:中國書店,1994). 11 Gary Ebersole, Ritual Poetry and the Politics of Death in Early Japan (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1989); Herbert Plutschow, “Kuni-Mi—Or the Ritual of Gazing Across the Land,” in Cosmos and Chaos: Ritual and Early and Medieval Japanese Literature (Leiden: Brill, 1990), 106-117. Torquil Duthie has questioned whether kunimi is a specific ritual at all in the sense described above, but the references still show rulers surveying and traveling through their land in symbolically significant ways. Torquil Duthie, “Envisioning the Realm: Kunimi in Early Japan” (paper presented at the annual meeting of the Association of Asian Studies, Chicago, March, 2009). 54 Many early poems can also be considered a form of travel writing, giving a sense of the range of the genre. In the Songs of Chu (Chu ci 楚辭), some of the Nine Songs (Jiu ge 九歌) and Encountering Sorrow (Li sao 離騒) are travel narratives of a sort. Encountering Sorrow became the standard allusion for a wrongfully exiled official, and includes several key tropes of East Asian travel narratives, such as the homeward focus and the justification of moral worth through ability to compose poetry. Many rhapsodies (fu 賦) center on a real or spiritual journey. The travel rhapsodies (zheng fu 征賦) provide a range of possible reasons for travel, such as “to flee a civil war, to take up an official post, and to escape political persecution. [These rhapsodies] treat the journey as a setting for what Hans Frankel has called ‘contemplating antiquity’ (lan gu 覧古).” 12 All are similar as a compulsory and reluctant move away from the center that causes the narrator to question the terms of the center of which he is no longer a part. The primary mode of this questioning is historical and the historical sites passed over on the road become sites for rumination of not only the past, but also the current and future states of the realm. Ennin’s journal also contains this impulse to historicize the places where he traveled, albeit with a primarily Buddhist emphasis. In contrast to the simple dichotomy between glorious center and dark hinterland, travel writing can also participate in the discourse that glorifies nature as an escape from the impure human world. All of the major East Asian systems of thought provide justification for retreat from the world, although the impulse is especially strong in Buddhism and Daoism. In times with multiple, competing centers of power, the political 12 Hans Frankel, The Flowering Plum and the Palace Lady (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1976), 419, 104-43; Stephen Owen, Remembrances: The Experience of the Past in Chinese Classical Literature (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1985); Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes, 24-5, 247-400. 55 instability and attendant danger made eremitism especially appealing.13 Although in Ennin’s time both China and Japan were ruled by strong central courts and a more axial spatial organization has reasserted itself, the value of nature as an escape from the capital and politics overlapped with the sacred geography of religious sites. 14 The appeal of these sites was tied to their natural splendor, which tended to be incompatible with the large cities that had become administrative centers. Another subgenre of travel writing was the guidebook. The earliest example is the Classic of Mountains and Seas (Shan hai jing 山海経).15 Following this are The Guide to Waterways with Commentary (Shui jing zhu 水経注) by Li Daoyuan (酈道元 d. 527), and Yang Xuanzhi’s (楊衒之 nd.) Records of Buddhist Monasteries in Luoyang (Luoyang qielan ji 洛陽伽藍記 ca. 547).16 Since the Classic of Mountains and Seas intersperses imaginary places with real ones, the exact route would be difficult to follow, but the guidebook model is a rhetorically compelling organizational technique. The purpose of Yang’s Temples of Luoyang is to document a cityscape that has been destroyed and record its glories for future generations. Yang also argues for China’s legitimacy as a Buddhist holy land. His report of the Bodhidharma’s reaction to a temple in Luoyang is one example. “During his extensive travels, which had taken him 13 Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes, 27; and Susan Bush, “Tsung Ping’s Essay on Painting Landscape and the Landscape Buddhism of Mount Lu,” in Theories of the Arts in China (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983), 132-164. 14 One result of this reorganization of axial space in the Tang is that much of the travel writing described travel to estates not far from the city or to and from political or military appointments in the provinces. Examples of the first type include Wang Wei’s poems about his estates. Wang Wei, Laughing Lost in the Mountains: Poems of Wang Wei, trans. Tony Barnstone, Willis Barnstone (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 1991), 25-40. 15 Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes, 16. The most recent translation of the Shanhai jing is Anne Birrell, The Classic of Mountains and Seas (London: Penguin Books, 1999). Like most early texts, the Shanhai jing is composed of several strata from different periods. The earliest strata date from around the 3rd century BCE, and the entire book was compiled in something resembling its present form in the early 1st century CE. Birrell, “Introduction” in Classic of Mountains and Seas, 39-40. 16 Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes, 32. 56 to every corner of many countries, nowhere in the sullied world had he seen a monastery as elegant and beautiful as this one. Not even in the Buddha’s realm of ultimate things was there anything like this" (歷涉諸国,靡不周遍。而此寺精麗,閻浮所無也。 佛境界,亦未有此).17 Since the actual buildings had been destroyed, Yang recreates them in his text, which takes their place as an offering to Buddhism. Like these earlier guides, Ennin’s journal was used as a guidebook and enabled those who could not make the actual journey to make it in proxy. Unintentionally, Ennin’s journal also commemorates past glories—much of what Ennin saw on Mt. Wutai was destroyed in the Huichang persecution even before Ennin returned to Japan.18 Japanese Precedents In Japanese sources, from the very beginning there is a strong connection between journals and travel writing. The earliest examples are citations in the Nihon shoki (日本書紀 Chronicles of Japan) from records of journeys to the continent, or military expeditions within the Japanese archipelago but outside the state.19 The oldest known but no longer extant journal, the Writings of Iki Muraji (Iki no Muraji ga fumi 伊 吉博得書) was written in 659 as a record of the fourth embassy to the Tang.20 Iki recorded the route taken, the difficulties along the way, including several shipwrecks, and their journey to the capital. They presented several Emishi as tribute to the Tang 17 Yang Hsuan-chih, A Record of Buddhist Monasteries in Lo-yang, trans. Yi-t’ung Wang (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 20. 18 Over time, Mt. Wutai was partially rebuilt and, as we see in the final chapter, later Japanese monks continued to make pilgrimages there. 19 Nikki, kik" bungaku, 7. 20 Nikki bungaku jiten DÝ](PÄ, ed. Ishihara Sh#hei £lÅ5 (Bensei shuppan ÆÇJK, 2002), 345. Although the Iki no Muraji’s dates are unknown, he continued to be active in foreign policy and was chosen as one of the compilers for the Law Codes of the Taih# era (Taih" ritsury" 大宝律令). In 703, he received some land as a reward for that effort. 57 emperor.21 During the ceremonies, there was a dispute over the ranking of ambassadors, which was decided in Japan’s favor. Finally, they were detained in the capital because the Tang was planning military action against Japan’s ally Paekche.22 Immediately following the citation of this journal, there is reference to another record now lost, the Writings of Kishi Ohito of Naniwa (Naniwa no Kishi Ohito sho 難波 吉士男人書). The citation from this record is considerably shorter, only 37 characters, and covers the presentation of the Emishi to the emperor. The emperor’s questions are very similar to the interviews recorded in later journals, including Ennin’s and J#jin’s.23 From this short citation, it is impossible to tell if the source is a journal or some other kind of report, but the level of detail suggests it was recorded soon after the exchange took place.24 In either case, the need to report back to the court the details of these diplomatic exchanges necessitated more comprehensive record keeping. The next several journals are also known to have existed from citations in the Chronicles of Japan (Nihon shoki 日本書紀). In the first year of Tenmu’s reign (天武 672), there is the Journal of Ato Chitoko (Ato no Chitoko ga nikki 安斗智徳日記), the Journal of the Tsuki Muraji Awaumi (Tsuki no Muraji Awaumi nikki 調連淡海日記), 21 A generic term for the inhabitants of the Japanese archipelago who were not under the control of the imperial court. See Bruce Loyd Batten, To the Ends of Japan: Premodern Frontiers, Boundaries, and Interactions (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2003); Mark Hudson, Ruins of Identity Ethnogenesis in the Japanese Islands (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 1999). 22 W. G. Aston, Nihongi: Chronicles of Japan from the Earliest Times to A.d. 697 (Boston: Tuttle, 2005), 260-3. 23 Although the Chinese asked similar questions, the relative importance of visitors from Japan changed in each age. In the late Tang, Ennin had a similar interview, but with a provincial governor. Sometimes he even had trouble getting the attention of minor officials. However, by the early Song, J#jin was treated as an official envoy and commanded to appear before the emperor, even though he had snuck away from Japan on a private merchant vessel. Robert Borgen analyzes J#jin’s interview in “Japanese Nationalism: Ancient and Modern,” Annual Report of the Institute for International Studies 1 ÞßM×È (December 1998). http://www.meijigakuin.ac.jp/~pmjs/papers/borgen_jojin.html (accessed November 13, 2009). However, a comparative analysis of all of the extant records would be very interesting. 24 Nikki bungaku jiten, 345. 58 and the Notes of Wanibe Omi Kimi (Wanibe no Omi Kimi tegaki 和珥部臣君手記). 25 All are military reports of expeditions to the north. Ato’s record is the first Japanese document where the term nikki is used, although it may actually have been a report written after the fact. Like travel to the continent, military expeditions required detailed record keeping to inform the court about these important, but distant, events. There are other journals said to precede Ennin’s, but they are not considered here because their authenticity is dubious.26 Buddhist Travel Writing Other precedents for Ennin’s journal are the accounts written by Chinese Buddhist travelers to the Indian subcontinent, such as Faxian (法顯 ca. 377-422), and Xuanzang (玄奘 ca. 602-664). Their descriptions of their roles provide an additional frame of reference for understanding Ennin’s role. Yijing (義淨 635-713) also traveled to the subcontinent, but his two records are different enough that they probably did not serve as models for Ennin.27 None of these records is a journal in the sense of a daily 25 Nikki bungaku jiten, 346. Wanibe, the third author, also has a poem in the Many"shu (万葉種) about the disturbance of the Jinshin era (壬申の乱). 26 Nikki bungaku jiten, 347. For example, the #tomo Sukune Satemar" no ki (大伴宿祢佐手麿記) is supposed to be the record of a Nara period embassy. Although no longer extant, it is quoted in several medieval sources, such as the Fukuro z"shi (袋草紙 ca.1156) by Fujiwara Kiyosuke (藤原清輔), the Kokinwakash! mokuroku (古今和歌集目録) and Kakaish" (河海抄 ca.1362). Some details make the entire record suspect. For instance, Satemar#’s wife is said to have been taken by a god of the sea, when women did not accompany the embassies. Kibi no Makibi’s (吉備真備) Zait" Nikki (在唐日記) also fits into this category. Still, their plausibility is based on the commonplace association of the journal genre and travel, particularly to the continent. 27 Although Faxian, Xuanzang, and Yijing’s records are the most well known, there are also several other shorter records, including Huisheng (惠生) and Sung Yu’s (宋雲) records found in chapter five of the Temples of Luoyang, Huili and Yanzong’s (慧立彥悰) Daijiyuanji sanzang fashi zhuan (大慈恩寺三蔵法 師伝), and from the eigth century, Huichao’s (慧超) Wang wu Tienzhu guo zhuan (往五天竺国伝) and Wukong’s (悟空) Wukong ru Tienzhu ji (悟空入天竺記). List found in Okamoto Sae ed., 岡本さえ Ajia hikaku bunka アジア比較文化 (Kasumigaseki shuppan 霞ヶ関出版, 2003), 3. Also mentioned in Nancy 59 record. Instead, they are compilations of information like a history and guidebook, based on secondary sources as well as personal experience. It is unclear what other kinds of records these authors may have kept or used, but the final format shows the priority of the unified, authoritative perspective over a more limited, daily, subjective one. Ennin’s journal is the earliest surviving account of Buddhist travel that proceeds day by day in either China or Japan. Still, the purpose of these earlier records was similar to Ennin’s diary, “as intelligence for a ruler and as a guidebook for future pilgrims.”28 Faxian’s A Record of Buddhist Kingdoms (仏国記 Foguo ji 399-412)29 The writing of the Faxian’s A Record of Buddhist Kingdoms is described as follows: In the summer, at the close of the period of retreat, … I met the devotee Faxian. On his arrival I lodged him with myself in the winter study, and there, in our meetings for conversation, I asked him again and again about his travels. The man was modest and complaisant, and answered readily according to the truth. I thereupon advised him to enter into details where he had at first only given a summary, and he proceeded to relate all things in order from the beginning to the end. (~-{ÉÊÚË‚mqÌ°Í ÎzÏ‚ÐÑVdÒÓÔÕ*‚BqÖ×ØÙÚ‚‚Û˜@MÜK ÝÞßà).30 Boulton, “Early Chinese Buddhist Travel Records as a Literary Genre” (PhD diss., Georgetown University, 1982), 37. 28 Strassberg, Inscribed Landscapes, 33. 29 This work is also known as the Faxian zhuan (法顕伝). For an account of Faxian’s life and travel see, Nagasawa Kazutoshi 長澤和俊, “Hokken no Ny!jiku guh# gy#” 法顕の入竺求法行, Shiruku r"do shi kenky! シルクロード史研究 (Kokusho kank# kai 国書刊行会, 1979), 415-439. A detailed account of his travel home by sea is Honda Seiichi 本田精一, “Bukkokuki k#kaishi—Ajia kaiiku k#kaishi”á仏国 記』航海誌—アジア海域航海史, Ajia y!gaku アジア遊学 101 (2007): 188-195. 30 James Legge trans., A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms; Being an Account by the Chinese Monk Fâ-Hien (Faxian) of His Travels in India and Ceylon (A.D. 399-414) in Search of the Buddhist Books of Discipline (1886; repr., New York: Paragon Book Reprint Corp, 1965), 117. Faxian, Xuanzang, and Yijing’s records are also discussed together in Nancy Boulton “Early Chinese Buddhist Travel Records as a Literary Genre” (PhD diss., Georgetown, 1982). 60 From this description, Faxian had no intention of creating a record of his travels and turning the prestige associated with travel to India into a durable form. The following passage explains his motivation: From the sandy desert westwards on to India, the beauty of the dignified demeanor of the monkhood and of the transforming influence of the Law was beyond the power of language fully to describe; and reflecting how our masters had not heard any complete account of them, he therefore [went on] without regarding his own poor life, or [the dangers to be encountered] on the sea upon his return, thus incurring hardships and difficulties in a double form. … He wrote out an account of his experiences, that worthy readers might share with him in what he had heard and said. (âãäåæ-,ç‚+èéêÚídë‚ô$ß說‚ ìÆí¸w5îDôðñòó"3ô‚õö÷ø . . . &ùú ¡hMð*‚4Þ´K¹Bïû).31 This passage states the purpose of Faxian’s pilgrimage was to deepen his knowledge of Buddhism, both through acquiring texts and gathering reliable information about Buddhist countries, particularly those of the Indian subcontinent. For Chinese Buddhists, the value of acquiring new or more authoritative versions of Buddhist texts was obvious. However, the purpose of A Record of Buddhist Kingdoms—recording the Buddhist accomplishments of the various kingdoms he passed through—is less clear. Faxian traveled at a time when Buddhism was on the rise in what is now China, but its place within the state was contested and so his record is a case study for the positive influence of Buddhism on the state.32 His accounts of each country focus mainly on the condition of the Buddhist institutions, listing such details as the number of monks and monasteries, the existing sects, and notable relics or stupas. When he arrives 31 Legge, Buddhistic Kingdoms, 116. For more about Buddhism during the six dynasty period, see Mark Edward Lewis, China Between Empires: The Northern and Southern Dynasties (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), 20416; Arthur Wright, Buddhism in Chinese History (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1959), 45-64. See also, Eric Zurcher, The Buddhist Conquest of China: The Spread and Adaptdation of Buddhism in Early Medieval China 3rd ed. (1959, repr., Leiden: Brill, 2007). In chapter 5, Zurcher examines the attacks made against Buddhism and the Buddhist response. 32 61 in India, Faxian visits Buddhist holy sites and in his record he retells the stories associated with each place. His account affirms the validity of the foreign stories with an eyewitness account of the remaining physical evidence. Since Faxian lived during a time when Buddhism was growing and contending with other institutions for adherents, this kind of evidence was significant. In his description of the foreign Buddhist states, there is always an implicit comparison with his homeland. Faxian describes the “middle kingdom” of India (天竺 所為中国) 33 as a Buddhist paradise with pervasive vegetarianism, well-endowed monasteries, and where mendicant monks are amply supplied.34 This description is supplemented by more traditional Confucian utopia motifs, such as a content and wellfed populace and lack of corporal punishment or taxes.35 Faxian’s account of these Indian kingdoms posits a strong correlation between support of Buddhist institutions and the health of the state. In one episode, the power of an important relic is greater than the military might of a neighboring king, showing how the spiritual power available through Buddhism was greater than raw military power.36 Faxian’ s record was a rhetorical response to the politically instability of his age, encouraging state support of Buddhist institutions as a way to unify and strengthen ones state. 33 Legge, Buddhistic Kingdoms, 28. In chapter 8, an account of a northern Indian country he refers to central India as noted above. 34 Legge, Buddhistic Kingdoms, 42-3. 35 Legge, Buddhistic Kingdoms, 42. Legge describes that central kingdom in chapter 16. 36 In a central Asian country there is the Buddha’s begging bowl, a powerful relic. A neighboring king, also Buddhist, invades the country because he wants the bowl. Although the invasion is successful, he is unable to move the bowl, even in a cart pulled by four elephants. Ashamed, he realizes that “the time for an association between himself and the bowl had not yet arrived.” Legge, Buddhistic Kingdoms, 33-6. 62 Xuanzang’s (玄奘) Great Tang Record of the West (大唐西域記)37 In contrast with Faxian, Xuanzang traveled during the early stages of the Tang when the dynasty was nearing the height of its power. Xuanzang’s record was also written in response to an imperial command, which dictated the concerns of the record, in particular by forcing Xuanzang to reconcile Buddhism and the imperial ideology and cosmology.38 This effort is particularly apparent in the prefaces, which dictate how the work should be read. Although the conventions of the introduction required such a stance, the preface to a work would influence how it was read and so should not be disregarded out of hand. Finally, the concern with reconciling Buddhist and imperial ideologies is not limited to the preface, but is also found in the body of the text as well. These prefaces use various strategies to incorporate India and the other foreign countries into the Chinese imperial ideology. The first preface by Jing Bo (敬播) begins with a history of the Chinese interaction with the western states, particularly India: As regards India, it has a long history since its establishment as a country. There saints and sages spring up generation after generation, and the morality of kindness and justice is their daily custom. But in the past, we never had contacts with that country and its territory is not conjoined with the Middle Kingdom. (ß-,çd—W/÷Büýr‚•´Ddþÿ, $#-!Â"‚‘P -#\÷$%-;–). 39 Jing Bo notes that India is not mentioned in the Classic of Mountains and Seas or the Chapter on Royal Meetings (Wanghui pian 王会篇) and that Zhang Qian never made it 37 Xuanzang and Bianji, The Great Tang Dynasty Record of the Western Regions, trans. Li Rongxi, Bukky# Dend# Ky#kai English Tripitaka 79 (Berkeley: Numata Center for Buddhist Translation and Research, 1996). Sally Hovey Wriggins, Xuanzang: A Buddhist Pilgrim on the Silk Road (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1996). 38 For a brief description of the writing process, see Wriggins, Xuanzang, 180. For a description of his reasons for traveling, see Yoshimura Makoto 吉村誠, “Genj# seiy!ki: Genj# wa naze Ind# e itta no ka” 玄奘西遊記:玄奘は何故インドへ行ったのか, Bukky" shigaku kenky! 仏教史学研究 46, no. 1 (2003): 47-75. 39 Xuanzang, Great Tang Dynasty Record, 5. 63 there. 40 This failure is troubling because it implies that an alternative order exists outside China’s glorified past. Instead of actual contact, the author asserts a cosmological correspondence. “Therefore, even though astrological signs had shown the good omen of the birth of the Buddha, his abstruse teachings were impeded from being introduced to China for a thousand years.”41 Then finally, Emperor Ming of the Han had a vision of the Buddha, and dispatched Cai Yin (蔡愔) to India to bring Buddhism to China. Significantly, it is the imperial government that initiates and authors the introduction of Buddhism. Jing Bo then continues in this historic mode, situating Xuanzang’s work within the trajectory of Chinese dynastic history. Ignoring the Six Dynasties and the brushing past the Sui, he presents the Tang dynasty as a universal empire, evidenced by the foreign residents of the capital. “Alien residents of different nationalities reside in Gao Street in the capital, and all distant and desolate places are included in the imperial territory.”42 This universal vision enables Xuanzang’s journey to be described as a journey within the bounds of Tang influence. After summarizing Xuanzang’s personal accomplishments and great merit, the author describes the value of Xuanzang’s work in political terms: He personally visited one hundred ten countries and heard information about twenty-eight countries. Some of them are mentioned in the historical records of previous dynasties, while others are known to us for the first time in the present age. All of them are influenced by the spirit of harmony and enjoy the benevolence of the Great Tang. They have paid homage and submitted to the authority of the Emperor, beseeching him to dispatch officials to reform their language. They climbed mountain paths to come to offer tribute, and they were so merrily 40 A chapter in the History of the Zhou (逸周書 Yizhou shu). Yi Zhou shu hui jiao ji zhu &'f()V*, ed. Huang Huaixin et al. ,+, (Shanghai: Shanghai gu ji chu ban she ¥":¥"O)JK-, 2007). 41 Xuanzang, Great Tang Dynasty Record, 5. 42 Xuanzang, Great Tang Dynasty Record, 7. 64 entertained at the imperial court that they clapped their hands; dressed in the costume of the Tang, they formed into groups. . . . We need not take trouble to write letters to find out details that are already written on white silk and entitled The Great Tang Dynasty Record of the Western Regions. (ÿ.Kq/q0W÷2ïK102W‚3Pû-4Ä÷3i5-S \‚«ô6T†7÷8-39:=;<=>÷?´3²@‚ABC 3LD÷EFG3ÂH‚IBH#X–dJ÷K"´¤dL‚M6 Nd-WÄ÷O6ßd-&P÷.rQR÷Ú‘S_‚8TUV÷ äßWX‚i—“LjåYÝ”).43 The preface defines the Record of the West as part of the project of cultural imperialism. Recording information about other peoples is a way of symbolically incorporating them into the Tang. Since the record notes how civilized—how like the Chinese—they are, it also confirms the success of the civilizing influence said to flow from a righteous government. Likewise, the foreign envoys delight at court entertainments and conforming to the dress of the Tang are also part of the civilizing program.44 The preface emphasizes Xuanzang’s account as a record of the benevolent cultural influence of the Tang empire, which includes for the first time India as well, allowing for greater coordination of the Buddhist and imperial universal visions. In Xuanzang’s preface, he resituates the cosmology of Chinese superiority within a Buddhist cosmology, maintaining China’s centrality in every sphere except Buddhism.45 First, Xuanzang presents the cosmos in Buddhist terms, with four continents each governed by kings with graded jurisdictions. Within this cosmology, he 43 Xuanzang, Great Tang Dynasty Record, 8. Music and celebration are strongly associated with festival and ritual, which, as we saw in introduction, were believed to have a positive moral influence. 45 “Excluding the Lord of Men, the other three lords hold the east as the superior direction. Their people build houses with doors opening to the east, and early in the morning they pay reverence to that direction. In the land of Men, the people respect the southern direction. … As regards to the etiquette observed between a monarch and his subjects and that between the superior and the inferior, and the cultural institutions and political systems, the land of the Lord of Men excels all the other countries; while as to instructions concerning the purification of the mind, and liberation from worldly burdens, as well as teachings to relieve one from birth and death, the theories are best in the country of the Lord of the Elephants.” Xuanzang, Great Tang Dynasty Record, 19. 44 65 creates a space for the Tang rhetoric of the centrality and superiority of China, blending the Buddhist and imperial cosmologies. Although India is granted precedence in Buddhist thought, China is held to be superior politically and culturally. Xuanzang also situates his own work within the Tang imperial project. Xuanzang’s journal functions as a gazetteer or record of local conditions that confirms the success of the Tang dynasty in the standard Confucian way, through the voices of local subjects: Wherever I went in my journey, I inquired about local conditions and customs. . . . I believe that the great merits of the Emperor [Taizong] have surpassed those of the three ancient Emperors and the five monarchs of old.46 All living creatures are benefited by his genial influence, and every being who can speak extols his merits. From the Tang Empire up to the land of India, all the people . . . accept the Chinese calendar and enjoy the fame and teachings of the Emperor. The praise of his military feats has become a topic of conversation and the commendation of his civic virtue is the most popular theme. (Z[Ù»\°÷]BX–÷^ w_R`"÷,äjÐaÓ‚býdc÷def7=7Ødg÷« ôhi‚j®,j÷!í,ç÷klL"÷ YQm÷d¡š¨÷ nop‚q+idr÷sÂT‚=ë]tdu÷v—hw).47 Where Xuanzang’s account differs from the standard Confucian model is that he uses Buddhist terms, such as “all living creatures” (or “sentient beings,” 含生), in addition to traditional Chinese dichotomy between civic and military virtues. The purpose of the record is to hold a mirror up to the Tang, confirming its universality, instead of an anthropological portrayal of difference.48 Although Buddhist travel to India inevitably presents a challenge to Tang ideas of centrality, these prefaces interpret Xuanzang’s travel record against the grain, arguing 46 Mythical Chinese rulers of the antiquity and exemplars of virtuous government. Xuanzang, Great Tang Dynasty Record, 16-17. 48 In actual interstate relations, Tang leaders were pragmatic enough to compromise in various ways, but the rhetoric of centrality and universality was carefully maintained. See Pan Yihong, Son of Heaven and Heavenly Qaghan: Sui-Tang China and Its Neighbors (Bellingham, WA: Center for East Asian Studies, Western Washington University, 1997). 47 66 that it reinforces Tang ideology.49 Xuanzang also argues that providing accurate information about India and creating accurate translations of Buddhist texts are both a kind of rectification of names—one of the actions of a Confucian sage king. For Xuanzang to characterize his translation work in these terms is a brilliant way to appeal for imperial sponsorship of his future Buddhist translation projects by incorporating them into the imperial ideology. The main text of the Record of the West is also infused with the same concerns, although less explicitly. In his short description of each country, the most common details are the size of country and capital city, and the number of monks—reflecting the dual focus on Buddhism and the state. 50 Like Faxian, Xuanzang records the number of monks and monasteries, the sects of Buddhism, the degree of adherence to the monastic rules, and the presence of relics and images and the associated lore. He warns against persecution of Buddhism, with stories of rulers who attack Buddhist monasteries and are punished with earthquakes or inexplicable illnesses. There is information about local products, primarily crops and livestock—an important consideration of the Tang tribute system. Xuanzang also mentions the climate and customs, including the character of the people, their appearance, dress, hairstyles, or writing system, often to note whether they conform to Chinese standards. He notes political information, such as whether the states 49 For example, Xuanzang leaves the Tang without permission, breaking the law, but this action is reinterpreted as a gesture of disobedient filiality. The possibility of an actual conflict between imperial and Buddhist agendas is never broached. Likewise, because of military pressure from central Asia throughout the Tang, there was a real need for accurate information about that area, and yet here they are described as having completely accepted Chinese political and cultural hegemony. So the journal supports two contradictory imperial needs, the need for information about central Asia to protect against possible invasion, and the incorporation of these countries as Others that confirm China’s superiority, by their imitation and inadequacy. 50 From the number of countries he listed, it would appear that Central and South Asia were extremely politically fragmented. 67 are centrally organized or a collection of independent cities, whether the king is actually in control or not. In addition to its ideological messages, much of this information would also be valuable to people travelling the same route. The Record of the West also includes advice specifically for this purpose such as notable topography, especially mountains and rivers, availability of water, and the presence of dragons and other dangers. Finally, Xuanzang provides much more detailed information about India. This includes a history of the names of India, their standard measures, and calendar, which he presents as an exercise in a kind of rectification of names by providing accurate information about the subcontinent. He also describes the class structure and customs, giving an overview of the entire subcontinent and then of each state.51 However these lengthy descriptions also subtly undermine Tang centrality by presenting a historically mature, complex, successful society that is totally unconnected to China. Although the successes of Indian society are described in Chinese term, their very existence necessarily qualifies Tang ideas of centrality and universality, despite repeated assertions to the contrary. In an attempt to deal with this problem, in the eulogy to Xuanzang attached to the end of the record, the flow of cultural knowledge is reversed and Xuanzang is described as a cultural ambassador to India. “In the course of time he reached India, where he publicized Chinese civilization in a foreign land and propagated the great teachings in an alien country.”52 Given Xuanzang’s lack of quantifiable contributions to Indian culture, such a claim says more about the Chinese ideology of centrality than about his impact on 51 D. Devahuti, “The General Account of India in the Ta T’ang Hsi Yu Chi,” in The Unknown Xuanzang (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 117-150. 52 Xuanzang, Great Tang Dynasty Record, 392. 68 Indian culture. Despite the Sinocentric rhetoric, Buddhism inspired curiosity about India contributed much to Chinese civilization. In addition to this report of his travels, Xuanzang’s subsequent work as a translator and his close relationship to the court helped him become perhaps the most well known monk throughout East Asia. As a result, his record was widely circulated and became the basis for subsequent geographies.53 It is almost certain that Ennin knew of Xuanzang and his record, and this knowledge may have motivated Ennin to keep his own record. Ganjin’s (ch:Jianzhen 鑑真) T#seiden (東征伝 Journey to the East)54 Another source that may have influenced Ennin is the record of Ganjin’s travel to Japan, the T"seiden. Recorded by one of Ganjin’s lay disciples after the fact, the T"seiden details the hardships Ganjin and his party faced on their numerous and prolonged attempts to reach Japan. Invited by monks sent by Sh#mu Tenn" (聖武 701756) as part of his strategy to use Buddhism to increase imperial prestige and legitimacy, Ganjin was already an old and eminent monk when he decided to travel to Japan. Thus 53 Nobuo Muroga and Kazutaka Unno, “The Buddhist World Map in Japan and Its Contact with European Maps,” Imago Mundi 16 (1962): 51. 54 The full text of the T"seiden can be found in DBZ 553. The best annotated edition is in Takasaki Naomichi 高崎直道 ed., Daij" butten 大乗仏典, vol. 16: Sh"toku Taishi, Ganjin 聖徳太子・鑑真 (Ch!# k#ronsha 中央公論社,1990). The most readily available English translations is Marcus Bingenheimer, “A Translation of the T"daiwaj" t"seiden 唐大和上東征傳,” parts 1 and 2, The Indian International Journal of Buddhist Studies no. 4 (2003): 168-189; no. 5 (2004): 142-181. Also available online at http://buddhistinformatics.chibs.edu.tw/~mb/publications/publications.html. For a modern Japanese description of Ganjin’s life and travels, see And# K#sei 安藤更生, Ganjin 鑑真 (Yoshikawa k#bunkan 吉 川弘文館, 1967). All of these accounts are primarily descriptive. The analysis of the significance of Ganjin’s record is mine. 69 his decision to undertake the difficult journey and his tenacity in completing were surprising.55 One of the primary purposes of the T"seiden is to record the difficulties of the voyage. Had he arrived safely in Japan two weeks after leaving China, as many travelers did, it would be a short text. Instead, over the course of their travels, he and his party were shipwrecked on unknown islands and drifted all the way to Hainan in far southern China before coming ashore and returning overland to start their journey again. Also, Ganjin lost his sight from the hardships of travel and was partially blind by the time he finally reached Japan. The record would not have been of any use as a guidebook, since no one would purposely follow his convoluted route to Japan, nor does it record a pilgrimage, since Ganjin was not traveling to a sacred site. Written by one of his lay disciples, the record of Ganjin’s hardships must have been intended as a devotional record, a monument to his perseverance.56 Also, by subjecting themselves to the uncertainty and the rigors of travel, the travelers opened themselves up to the intervention of the divine, and the record confirms the salvific power of the buddhas.57 In addition to the rigors of the journey, the major obstacles came from Ganjin’s own disciples and the Tang government. The officials were somewhat ambivalent. On the one hand, it was illegal to leave the Tang empire without permission; the officials were concerned about pirates, and hesitant to let such a prestigious monk leave. On the 55 And#, Ganjin, 34, 42. Apparently he was convinced to come after hearing the story that Sh#toku Taishi was a reincarnation of Huisi (xy), the third Tientai patriarch. Bingenheimer, T"seiden pt. 1, 171-2. 56 The authorship of the T#seiden is described in Bingenheimer, “Introduction,” T"seiden pt. 1, 163-4. 57 For examples, see And#, Ganjin, 91-2; Bingenheimer, T"seiden pt. 2, 144-5. 70 other hand, they were reluctant to oppose the Buddhist mission of a famous monk and many officials aided Ganjin when he went astray in his travels.58 Ennin’s record mirrors the T"seiden in its descriptions of the dangers of sea travel and his confirmation of the salvific powers of Buddhist deities. Likewise, Ennin’s decision to defy Tang authorities and stay in China without official permission is similar to Ganjin and Xuanzang’s decisions to leave the Tang without permission. A major difference between the records is that Ennin’s is a daily account whereas the T"seiden was written later by someone who was not a member of the voyage. As a result, in Ennin’s journal there is less of an obvious narrative structure at work and the descriptions of miraculous occurrences are subtler and less exaggerated. The T"seiden resembles Ennin’s journal in many ways and undoubtedly helped create the image of the traveling monk that shaped Ennin’s own journal. As a result, the T"seiden should be included in our lineage of Japanese journal literature. Japanese Buddhist Monks who Traveled to China The Japanese monks who traveled to China prior to Ennin also formed a precedent for him. Like Ennin, they traveled with official embassies and their role was both religious and political. Indeed, the study of Buddhism provided part of the motivation for the missions to the continent and created a common cultural heritage that smoothed the transaction between Japan and the mainland.59 Although there is no evidence that they left behind journals, their histories, preserved in the Nihon shoki (日 本書紀), the Shoku nihongi (続日本紀), and other sources, formed a collective idea of 58 Such as And#, Ganjin, 44, 69, 79; Bingenheimer, T"seiden pt. 2, 146-151. Charles Holcombe, “Trade-Buddhism: Maritime Trade, Immigration, and the Buddhist Landfall in Early Japan,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 119, no. 2 (1999): 280-292. 59 71 the student monk that would have influenced Ennin’s understanding of his role. Rather than revisit each of these sources individually, here I rely on the work of Marcus Bingenheimer, who has compiled the available information about each known monk from the seventh and eighth century, and Charlotte von Verschuer for the ninth century.60 As Bingenheimer makes clear, the history of these early travelers is incomplete and what does exist has been heavily influenced by the sectarian and hagiographical concerns of its Buddhist compilers. For example, the monks are often characterized as early transmitters of specific Buddhist sects and linked to famous Chinese monks, to legitimize these transmissions, when these strict sectarian boundaries were only a feature of later Japanese Buddhism. What Bingenheimer does not analyze, but is more important for my interests, is that these monks were also portrayed as active participants in non-Buddhist continental culture, that the prestige acquired from their study in China was put to use in the political arena, and many of the monks were given leadership positions on returning to Japan. Overall, four embassies were sent to the Sui and nineteen to the Tang. There is much more information about the monks in some embassies than others.61 The first embassy to the continent where the names of the monks is known is to the Sui in 607 or 608.62 From their names, we know that seven of the eight students were descendents of immigrants from the mainland. They all spent a substantial amount of time in China: 60 Marcus Bingenheimer, A Biographical Dictionary of the Japanese Student-monks of the Seventh and Early Eighth Centuries: Their Travels to China and Their Role in the Transmission of Buddhism (München: Iudicium, 2001); and Joan Piggott et al. ed., Dictionnaire des Sources du Japon Classique (Paris: Institut des Hautes Etudes Japonaises, 2006), 483-527. 61 Although this may be due to the size of the embassies, it is also important to consider the political situation in Japan. Monks who had the good fortune to be available at a time when political leaders needed an outside source of legitimacy were promoted, whereas those returning at less dynamic times were not as fortunate. There were few enough total monks that idiosyncratic differences of ability or personality were also important. 62 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 32. 72 S#bin (僧旻) was there 24 years, Eon (慧隠) 31 years, and Sh#an (請安) 32 years. All became prominent in Japan upon their return and S#bin was particularly influential in the Taika (Lí) reforms. After his return, S#bin (d. 653.6) (dp. 608–rt. 632) was made a national scholar (kuni no hakase 國の博士) and in various places in the court record is called upon to interpret various omens at court.63 In his broadly defined role as cultural advisor, interpreter of omens and spiritual prognosticator, S#bin’s Buddhist identity was not exclusive. His Buddhist credentials were an integrated part of a larger cultural complex. Similarly, the Nihongi states that Sh#an (dp. 608.9–rt. 640.10), was learned in “the doctrines of the Duke of Zhou and Confucius,” confirming that the monks who went to China in the seventh century mastered a broad spectrum of Chinese learning.64 Other records confirm this picture. Although many are unclear or contain obvious embellishments, these embellishments are also useful in determining the stereotype for a traveling monk. For example, although the accounts of Chiz#’s (智蔵) life are conflicting and may point to more than one person—he receives a farewell poem from Tang poet Liu Yuxi (劉禹錫 772–842), has two poems included in the early poetry anthology the Kaif!s" (懐風操), excels in his studies in China where he incurs the jealousy of his classmates, and is later made S"j" (僧正 Head Prelate)65—they all 63 The most famous example is the white pheasant. For a discussion of the incident, see Michael I. Como, Sh"toku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 81-3. Como reads the characters for S#bin as Monk Min. See also, David T. Bialock, Eccentric Spaces, Hidden Histories: Narrative, Ritual, and Royal Authority from The Chronicles of Japan to The Tale of the Heike (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2007), 56-7. 64 Quoted in Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 124. 65 This is the highest office in the S"g" (僧剛) the government office in charge of Buddhist monasteries in the Nara and early Heian period. Other high offices are, in order of rank, S"zu (僧都 Prelate), Risshi (律 73 conform to the standard biographical elements of monks who travel to China and include evidence of cultural and political participation beyond the boundaries of Buddhism. The group that left Japan in 653 was the largest group up to that point. We know the names of 26 monks. Bingenheimer shows that the 653 group expanded beyond the sons of immigrants, because the successes of the earlier monks had made the political advantages of this experience obvious. So it seems that non-Buddhist motivations also influenced the decision to become a monk and travel to the continent. Among the group of 653, the most noteworthy is D#sh# (道昭 629-700) (653.5.12–rt.659 or 661).66 In the Tang, he reportedly studied with Xuanzang. In Japan, he built bridges and performed other charitable works and later became S"j".67 The most important monks of the next generation, Gien (義淵 d.728) and Gy#ki (行基 668– 748), were both his disciples.68 If Gy#ki’s social activism can be traced back through D#sh# to China, then this shows the potentially disruptive force of new continental Buddhist ideas.69 Between 650 and 700, there are a number of monks about whom relatively little is known, except that they eventually occupied the most prestigious monastic posts. J#e (定慧) was poisoned by some Sillans because he issued a poetic challenge to which they were unable to respond. Ese (慧施 d. 701) (dp. 653.5.12–rt. before 685) became S"j" in 698. Chits! (智通 dp 658 rt, before 672), supposedly studied with Xuanzang, and 師 Master of Discipline) and Shos"zu (小僧都 Minor Prelate). See Naobayashi Futai 直林不退, Nihon kodai bukky"seid"shi kenky! 日本古代仏教制度史研究 (Nagata bunsh#d# 永田文昌堂, 1988). 66 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 98. 67 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 99, 104. 68 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 103. 69 For more about Gy#ki and his relationship to the court, see Jonathan Morris Augustine, Buddhist Hagiography in Early Japan: Images of Compassion in the Gy!ki Tradition (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2005), 47-83; and Joan Piggott, The Emergence of Japanese Kingship (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 223-6. 74 eventually became S"j". Shinei (神叡 d.737) (dp. 693.3–rt. before 717.7) became Risshi (律師). As Bingenheimer notes, “In 729.10, after the death of S"j" Gien, when D#ji entered the S"g" (僧綱), Shinei was made Shos"zu (小僧都) and Bensh# became S"j". Together the three student-monks were in charge of the S"g" for eight years at a time when the Nara schools solidified and developed their role in society.”70 Of the group that left in 703, we only know something about Chih# (智鳳 n.d.) and D#ji (道慈 d. 744). D#ji’s biography and several writings appear in the Kaif!s". They show a man highly accomplished in continental culture and writing, but also totally devoted to Buddhism. For example, in a letter, D#ji insinuates that he withdrew from court life for a period and he comments that, unlike Tang Buddhism, Japanese Buddhism does not do anything for the common people.71 This insight privileges a Buddhist perspective over the court perspective, showing an increasing ideological independence. As Risshi, D#ji tried to regulate the monastic establishment, create minimum standards for monks, and sent Y#ei (榮叡) and Fush# (普照) to invite a master of monastic laws to come to Japan (the previously discussed Ganjin). The next significant monk to travel to the continent is Gih# (義法), who returned to Japan in 707. He has poems in the Kaif!s" and in 714 returned to lay life and became a diviner in the Yin-yang Bureau (Iny" ry" 陰陽寮).72 Since monks and other spiritual practitioners had an overlapping set of skills and expertise, that his return to lay life is 70 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 123. Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 87. For more on the rebellion of Fujiwara Hir#tsugu, see Yosabur# Takekoshi, The Economic Aspects of the History of the Civilization of Japan (1930; repr., Taylor & Francis, 2004), 69-70. Joan Piggott, The Emergence of Japanese Kingship (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 253-4. 72 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 113. 71 75 even noted suggests a hardening of the distinction between Buddhist and other types of religious experts. Genb# (玄昉 d.746) (dp. 717–rt. 735.4), who traveled with Kibi no Makibi (吉備 真備) and Abe no Nakamaro (阿部仲麿) is an example of a monk whose outside sources of legitimacy proved disruptive. He was awarded purple robes, brought back many scriptures, and was later made S"j". The tenn" bestowed purple robes on Genb# again after he returned in 737.8, but in 745 he fell out of favor and was banished to Ky!sh!, accused of not acting like a monk. When Fujiwara Hir#tsugu (藤原広継) rebelled in 740, it was partly because he felt Kibi no Makibi and Genb# were too powerful at court.73 New sources of legitimacy from the outside could also challenge the existing configurations of power and so were sometimes vigorously opposed. In subsequent centuries, the increasing sophistication of Japanese Buddhism and the shorter stays of later monks undoubtedly required a shift towards more exclusive study of Buddhism, but this eclecticism never disappears entirely. By the Heian period, returning monks were no longer awarded important, non-Buddhist government posts. Still, their extracurricular activities might help them promulgate their Buddhist teaching. Even K!kai (空海), who was explicitly concerned with carving out unique epistemological claims for Buddhism, studied poetry and calligraphy in China and it was these other cultural skills that first brought him to the Saga Tenn"’s attention.74 All of 73 Bingenheimer, Biographical Dictionary, 110. Although K!kai’s introduction to his treatise on poetry, the Bunky" hifuron (文鏡秘府論 Secret Treasury of Mirrors of Literature), downplays its significance in relation to Buddhism, it required substantial effort to produce the following text. Even while in China, K!kai’s reputation was connected to his literary and cultural skills. See Richard Wainwright Bodman, “Poetics and Prosody in Early Mediaeval China: A Study and Translation of K!kai's Bunky" hifuron” (PhD diss., Cornell University, 1978). 74 76 this shows that a wide variety of cultural and technological knowledge was considered appropriate for Buddhist monks, which we can see clearly in Ennin’s journal. Also ingrained in the hagiographic traditions were representations of monks as exemplars of the cultural accomplishments of the early Japanese courts.75 This is especially true of stories that emphasize their success as students in relation to their Tang and Sillan colleagues or where they impress their Tang hosts with their cultural accomplishments. Ennin’s journal also reassures his Heian audience that their practices are consistent with Tang norms. Saich! and K"kai The penultimate embassy, which departed in 804, included Saich# (最澄) and K!kai.76 Although neither kept a journal of their time in China and formed a precedent for Ennin in that sense, both of their legacies were central in determining Ennin’s agenda in the Tang and his journal. Still working in the older model of the scholastic Nara schools, Saich# understood his role primarily as gathering texts. 77 In his letter requesting permission to travel to China, this is the reason he gives and this is how he spent most of his time and resources in China. Like others before and after, Saich# compiled a list of the texts that he 75 In fact the entire embassy functioned in this way. The ambassador, in particular, “embodied the cultural advancement of his homeland, which he consciously used to project a civilized image for Japan and elevate Japan’s international standing among other East Asian countries.” Wang, Ambassadors from the Island, 34. 76 For a general overview of this particular mission, see Robert Borgen, “The Japanese Mission to China, 801-806,” Monumenta Nipponica 37, no. 1 (1982): 1-28. For more on the doctrinal evolution of the Tendai sect between Saich# and Ennin, see Tamura Akihiro 田村晃裕, “Saich# kara Ennin e” 最澄から 円仁へ, in Ajia ni okeru sh!ky" to bunka アジアにおける宗教と文化 (T#y# daigaku 東洋大学, 1994), 51-70; and Paul Groner, Saich": The Establishment of the Japanese Tendai School (Berkeley: Center for South and Southeast Asian Studies 1984), 289-302. 77 Groner, Saich", 38-64. 77 collected. Although Saich# was interested in esoteric Buddhism and received several initiations at Mt. Tientai, since he did not speak Chinese and the initiations were accompanied by oral transmissions, it is unlikely that he understood them very well.78 It was not until Saich# studied esoteric Buddhism in greater depth with K!kai that he realized their significance. After his falling out with K!kai, he reinterpreted these initiations in a way that enabled him to remove K!kai from his transmission lineage. Later Tendai monks took this even further and reimagined Saich#’s lineage to make it as prestigious as K!kai’s.79 Saich# was only in Tang China for nine months and he stayed primarily at Mt. Tientai in the south, without ever traveling to Changan, a point often noted by detractors. Although an important Buddhist site, especially for the Tendai sect, Mt. Tientai was peripheral in the Tang religious field. When Ennin petitioned to go there, the officials rewrote his request to include permission to travel to the capital as well. In the end, Ennin never made it to Mt. Tientai, but his travel to Mt. Wutai filled that role and was actually more compelling because it was a much more universally recognized holy site.80 Later Japanese monastic travelers made a point of traveling to all three sites—Mt. Tientai, Mt. Wutai, and Changan.81 Saich#, K!kai, and Ennin each helped to set the agenda for future Japanese monastic travelers. Even J#jin (Âà 1011-1081), traveling in the Song, requested to travel to Changan, although he never did make it there.82 Still, Saich#’s time in China was a source of legitimacy for the nascent Tendai sect. After he 78 Groner, Saich", 64. Groner, Saich", 52-64. 80 I discuss this in chapter describing Ennin’s travel to Mt. Wutai. 81 This point will be elaborated in the final chapter about Ennin’s effect on the Heian journal tradition. 82 Robert Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels from Center to Center (with Some Periphery in between),” in Heian Japan, Centers and Peripheries, ed. Mikael Adolphson, Edwards Kamens, and Stacie Matsumoto (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2007), 389. 79 78 returned, he signed his letters with the appellation, “Saich#, who formerly traveled to China.”83 Gishin (義真), Saich#’s disciple and interpreter who was ordained in China, became the next head of the Tendai sect. K!kai, who spent more time in China than Saich# and had a greater mastery of the Chinese language, developed a much fuller understanding of esoteric rituals.84 He brought back many more esoteric texts than Saich#, some of which reflected recent developments in the capital that were not available in the provinces where Saich# studied. Because K!kai understood Chinese, he was able to take notes on the oral instructions from his teacher, essential for esoteric instruction. With these sources and with his own prodigious religious creativity, K!kai created a new esoteric paradigm for Japanese Buddhism, combining the formerly disconnected exegetical tradition and rituals of Nara Buddhism into a coherent whole.85 K!kai’s influence on Japanese Buddhist history was much greater than the founding of the Shingon sect. The paradigm he created became the paradigm for Heian Buddhism and was influential in the development and organization of Japanese culture. Given his significance, Ennin’s journal needs to be understood in context of this overall transition precipitated by K!kai’s work. In a sense, Ennin traveled to China to address the discrepancy between Saich# and K!kai’s mastery of esoteric Buddhism. Ennin was sent by Saich# to make up for the 83 Groner, Saich", 144. My primary sources for this section on K!kai are Ronald S. Green, “K!kai, Founder of Japanese Shingon Buddhism: Portrait of His Life” (PhD diss., University of Wisconsin Madison, 2003); Shiba Ry#tar#, K!kai the Universal: Scenes from His Life (New York: ICG Muse, 2003); Ryuichi Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice: On Renovation in the History of Buddhist Writing in the Early Heian Period” in Heian Japan: Centers and Peripheries, ed. Mikael Adolphson, Edward Kamens, and Stacie Matsumoto (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2007); and Ryuichi Abe, The Weaving of Mantra: K!kai and the Construction of Esoteric Buddhist Discourse (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999). 85 Abe, Weaving of Mantra. 84 79 deficiencies of the Tendai sect, by acquiring texts, mandalas, and ritual implements like those that K!kai brought back but eventually refused to lend to Saich#. This is clear in Ennin’s biography, the Jikaku Daishi den (慈覚大師伝), which records a dream in which Saich# instructs Ennin to travel to China to study esoteric Buddhism.86 Like the monks who preceded him, K!kai was well known as a specialist of continental culture and this cultural mastery contributed to his success in the Tang and at the Heian court. Initially denied permission to land in China, K!kai wrote a letter of such eloquence that the governor recognized the embassy and allowed them to land, making K!kai’s cultural accomplishments crucial to the success of the entire mission.87 In Changan, K!kai was also singled out by his master Huiguo (恵果 746-805) as one of his preeminent disciples and specifically commanded to transmit esoteric Buddhism to Japan.88 Huiguo died soon after and K!kai decided to return to Japan much sooner than anticipated. Although the stories that K!kai studied with Tang literati Han Yu (韓愈) are almost certainly apocryphal, they show how his cultural prowess was an important part of his reputation.89 K!kai corresponded with other Tang literati and many wrote him farewell poems and presented him with gifts.90 86 Although the Jikaku Daishi den is from the middle of the 10th c., I think this story reflects a widespread notion of why Ennin traveled to China. Sait# Enshin trans., Jikaku Daishi Den: The Biography of Jikaku Daishi Ennin (T#ky#: Sankib# Busshorin, 1992). See also, Saeki Arikiyo 佐伯有清, Jikaku Daishi den no kenky! 慈覚大師伝の研究 (Yoshikawa k#bunkan 吉川弘文館, 1986). 87 For a partial translation, see Shiba, K!kai the Universal, 105-8; and Yoshito S. Hakeda trans., K!kai: Major Works (New York: Columbia University Press, 1972), 3. A copy of the letter has been preserved and can be found in K"b" daishi K!kai zensh! 弘法大師空海全集 (Chikuma shob# 筑摩書房, 1983-85), 3:454-56. 88 Green, “K!kai: Portrait of His Life,” 128, 132. 89 In addition to the complete lack of evidence that they ever met, Han Yu’s fame was very much a product of developments in the Song dynasty and he was not considered a central figure during his lifetime in the mid-Tang. 90 Shiba, K!kai the Universal, 172. For example, Zhu Qiancheng, Zhu Shaoduan, Tan Qing, Hong Jian, and Zheng Shenfu. 80 On his way home, in a letter to the governor of Yuezhou, K!kai requests support and expresses a desire to collect “not only Buddhist scriptures, but also books of literature, astronomy, medicine, art, and any other field, as long as they add to the happiness and welfare of people,” demonstrating interest in a broad range of nonBuddhist material. K!kai provides a Buddhist rationale for this interest, to “add to the happiness and welfare of the people,” and he probably also realized that expertise in these diverse fields would help him promulgate his Buddhist message. 91 Likewise, in his preface to his treatise on poetry, the Bunky" hifuron (文鏡秘府論 Secret Treasury on Poetic Mirrors), K!kai justifies his interest in non-Buddhist Chinese culture in Buddhist terms.92 Like earlier monks, K!kai’s broad mastery of Chinese culture was an important ingredient of his success. Despite his systematic privileging of his esoteric Buddhist paradigm, K!kai still participated in other cultural activities and studied them in China, framing his interest and participation in Buddhist terms and justifying them with Buddhist rationale. Upon his return to Japan, his cultural accomplishments in continental arts such as calligraphy first recommended him to Saga Tenn" (嵯峨), who subsequently enabled K!kai to implement his new Buddhist ritual program at the imperial court.93 Later travelers to China wanted to hear about K!kai’s successes in China as validation of Japan’s cultural accomplishments. Ennin, Enchin, and Ench# all asked about K!kai while in China, even though they were Tendai monks and ostensibly 91 Shiba, K!kai the Universal, 176; Hakeda, K!kai: Major Works, 3; and Green, “K!kai: Portrait of His Life,” 134. The original can be found at K"b" daishi K!kai zensh!, 3:459-60. 92 Bodman, Bunky" hifuron. 93 Shiba, K!kai the Universal, 174. 81 rivals.94 There are also many apocryphal stories about K!kai in China which all speak to his mastery of Chinese learning and cultural technologies.95 All of these demonstrate his importance as a figure symbolizing the increasing cultural proficiency of the Heian court. After the embassy of Saich# and K!kai, the next embassy was not sent for thirty more years, an that was Ennin’s.96 Interim Period between Saich!/K"kai and Ennin K!kai’s mastery of continental culture followed the patterns of earlier monks. It was his innovative creation of an esoteric Buddhist paradigm that gradually but completely changed Heian society. Ry!ichi Abe has explained the pivotal role that K!kai played in this reorientation.97 The Nara and early Heian system of government was based upon continental models. Buddhism was incorporated into that system as one branch of predominantly Confucian bureaucracy, a kind of bureau of spiritual affairs. Buddhist monks ideally occupied themselves with scriptural exegesis and performing rituals for the state and for wealthy patrons. The relationship between these occupations was not theorized. K!kai was responsible for “an epistemic shift in the production of Japanese Buddhist texts in the early Heian period, a shift that enabled Buddhists to incorporate the elements of meditation, ritual, and religious practice in general within the science of scriptural exegesis.”98 He did this by promulgating a new system that incorporated existing ritual practices into an esoteric structure of meaning. Ritual 94 Green, “K!kai: Portrait of His Life,” 129; Shiba, K!kai the Universal, 172. For egs. Shiba, K!kai the Universal, 173-4. 96 Shiba cites financial reasons and the expenses of setting up the new capital in Kyoto as the primary reason for this long interim period. Shiba, K!kai the Universal, 169. 97 Ryuichi Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” and Weaving of Mantra. 98 Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 179. 95 82 performances were understood not only as bringing about immediate benefit, but also as an extraordinarily effective means of achieving enlightenment. By the mid-Heian period, K!kai’s new paradigm, which was adopted by all of the major Buddhist institutions, began to change the fabric of Heian society as a whole. According to Abe, This constellation revolving around the authority of the Chinese texts and Confucian studies began to change, rather drastically… emphasis shifted to detailed descriptions of the swiftly growing body of rites, ceremonies, customs, and rules of conduct in the Heian court and its aristocratic society.99 The new esoteric ritual paradigm was doctrinally and organizationally compelling. Ritual and cultural performance became a central aspect of Heian court life. Eventually, when the court became politically disenfranchised in the Kamakura period, the esoteric Buddhist model of transmission became a dominant organizational model for many forms of cultural capital.100 The only complaint I have about Abe’s model is that he sometimes overemphasizes the differences between the two periods. For example, Abe explains, While the Heian court continued its support for Confucian studies, Confucianism lost its authority and centrality for the management of the state. With the development of multiple court rituals for integrating strongly esoteric Buddhist elements, Buddhism rose as the dominant ideology of the state in the mid- and later Heian periods.101 Although Abe makes a detailed and compelling argument about the new esoteric paradigm, his concept of Confucianism is somewhat underdeveloped. He uses it as shorthand for everything that came prior to this paradigm shift. However, 99 Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 182. For more on the role of esoteric Buddhism in later Japanese culture, see Susan Blakeley Klein, Allegories of Desire: Esoteric Literary Commentaries of Medieval Japan (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2002); and Noel J. Pinnington, Traces in the Way: Michi and the Writings of Komparu Zenchiku (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University East Asia Program, 2006). 101 Abe, “Scholasticism, Exegesis, and Ritual Practice,” 183. 100 83 scholars have shown the importance of Daoist, or yin-yang concepts in early Japanese concepts of kingship, or of Buddhism in the formation of the early Japanese state.102 Also, more important than its internal rationale is how an ideology is deployed by competing groups or institutions. Here Confucianism is also problematic because the class of people and institutions that were completely invested in the Confucian ideology, the Daigaku ry" (大学寮 Bureau of Confucian Learning) and its professors were minuscule compared with the literati class of the Tang. The idea of culture as technology that I develop in subsequent chapters is one possible alternative to these vague notions of Confucianism. The idea eases the transition between these paradigms because it focuses on how culture is deployed to solve problems rather than the particular content of the cultural paradigm. We might also wonder whether K!kai’s new paradigm changed Heian society or whether the shift to emphasize ritual performance was appropriated because it conveniently masked the disjunction between the ideological system centered on the tenn" and the growing power of the Fujiwara. Creating a government as a series of ritual performances and duties kept potential challengers busy and allowed the real work of governing and decision making to be done behind the scenes by those who were not completely weighed down by a heavy schedule of ritual performances. In either case, the shift in the religious world of the Heian court was mirrored by changes in the political arena. As the government shifted away from direct rule by tenn" 102 David Bialock, Herman Ooms have both argued for the importance of Daoist ideas. Joan Piggott and Michael Como for Buddhism. In Japanese, Onmy"d" s"sho, 4 vols. 陰陽道叢書, ed. Murakami Sh!ichi 村山修一 (Meicho shuppan 名著出版, 1991-93); Masuo Shinichiro, “Daoism in Japan,” trans. Livia Kohn, in Daoism Handbook, ed. Livia Kohn (Leiden: Brill, 2000). 84 and the Council of State (daij"kan z·{) towards indirect rule through regents and chancellors, government functions become ceremonialized. Precedents were no longer as important in determining policy, but rather in determining the proper forms and details of the many court rituals. In this new environment, the journal emerged as an important genre, because it provided a format to record and transmit these details within one’s lineage, preserving this important cultural capital. Since the religious shift preceded the political one, Ennin’s journal, as the first monk journal, was an inaugural work that showed how appropriate the genre was to the new situation. Ennin’s travel was also a response to K!kai’s foundational redefinition of Heian Buddhism; it attempted to establish the legitimacy of Tendai esotericism in relationship to Shingon. Ennin had a sense of K!kai’s new paradigm and the increased importance of rituals and initiations, and he understood how travel to China was an important component in the claims to legitimacy made by the competing Tendai and Shingon sects. His journal can be seen as a strategy to realize the full potential of his trip to China. It was no longer enough just to go; he needed a detailed record of what he experienced and learned to solidify this new cultural capital for the Tendai sect. Understanding the cultural and religious context of Ennin’s journal helps us understand the content of his journal, what he recorded and why, as well as its significance in his generation. As Ennin’s journal has primarily been understood in relation to contemporary research interests, such as the history of late Tang China, or the Sillan communities in the Tang, this dissertation is the first to examine the journal in its contemporary context. Understanding this background also allows us to see where Ennin followed his predecessors and where he innovated and broke new ground. 85 Chapter 2. Ritual Technology and Sacred Trade Ennin’s journal is filled with accounts of ritual. Ennin witnesses, participates in, and performs various rituals: Buddhist, civil, and others.1 Taken together, these give us a sense of ninth century East Asian religious life in practice, where the divisions between Chinese classicism, Buddhism and traditional religion were often irrelevant. The government’s ritual program, with its sponsorship, correlation, and appropriation of Buddhist and Daoist rituals for the benefit of the ruler and state added another level of complexity to religious practice. Correspondingly, the Heian court’s interest in the political relevance and potential of Buddhism and esoteric ritual motivated the religious exchange between China and Japan. Thus, this transfer of religious practice did not occur in isolation, but was part of a much larger process of Heian appropriation of continental culture and technology. This broader context explains why Ennin recorded so much that has little relation with Buddhism. Likewise, the way the records of ritual are integrated with the rest of the journal encourages the reader to view these rituals as one type of cultural technology among many.2 The idea of cultural technology provides an explanation of how the East Asian ritual paradigm operated. Today we are accustomed to thinking of culture and ritual as somehow constitutive of ethnic, religious, or national identity. However, one of the accepted tenants of the pre-modern (and pre-national) East Asian worldview was that 1 Hori Ichir# |q}, “Sh!ky# minzokugaku kara mita Nitt" guh" junrei k"ki” Ñpº"(C—û|Øj ÙÚÛÜÇÝ, in Jikaku Daishi kenky! ¶·L¸Þß, ed. Fukui K#jun ~•€× (Tendai gakkai ,µ( •, 1964), 355-370. Lists many of the rituals I discuss, provides a summary, and some minimal commentary. 2 Other examples include letter writing, bureaucratic procedures, as well as more practical matters. Of course, ritual was central to government and is the most prevalent type. 86 culture was universal. Although there was some debate over what was to be included in this universal culture, such as the place of Buddhism, the fact that culture was universal was rarely questioned. Culture was universal because it worked, accomplishing an orderly, safe, materially successful society. Ritual played an important role in this ordering. Culture or ritual as technology provides a useful metaphor because to our modern sensibility there is nothing culturally contingent about technology. There is no such thing as an engine design that is inherently Japanese. An engine or computer design works because it is built in accordance with universal laws of science and can be duplicated by anyone with identical results, irrespective of racial or cultural background. In East Asia, ritual was understood to function like technology. It worked because it was based on a correct understanding of universal natural laws, which encompassed both the phenomenal natural world and human nature. The term “cultural technology” is useful because it provides an overarching metaphor to think about the introduction of continental ideas and texts without having to establish anachronistic divisions between bureaucratic, religious, or technological introductions. For example, in addition of Buddhist texts, Ennin also brought back many literary and bureaucratic texts.3 Similarly, the current models do not account for the Japanese interest in Daoist ideas, especially since there were never any fully Daoist institutions.4 3 Kanda Kiichiro ¤‚çq}, “Jikaku Daishi sh#rai gaiten k#sh#” ¶·L¸ƒ„¯…†, in Jikaku Daishi kenky! ¶·L¸Þß, ed. Fukui K#jun ~•€× (Tendai gakkai ,µ(•, 1964), 91-6. 4 For example, Fukunaga Mitsuji ~‡ˆ‰, “Kid# to shint#—ch!goku kodai no sh!ky# shis# to nihon kodai” £m:¤m—;<O\=ÑpyŠ:DEO\ , Nich! bunka k"ry!shi s"sho, vol. 4 sh!ky" D; ]í‹ŒG•f, vol. 4 Ñp, ed. Nakanishi Susumu ;åŽ, Zhou Yilang •qé et al. (Taish!kan shoten Lª«f¬, 1995). 87 The term “cultural technology” also foregrounds the materiality of culture. Although we tend to think of culture in abstract terms, technology is very concrete. In Ennin’s case, this means sutras, mandalas, ritual hand gestures, statues, and other ritual paraphernalia that constituted the material apparatus of esoteric Buddhism. On a broader scale, we can think not just of the Tang organizational structure or bureaucratic rituals, but the robes and trappings that symbolized governmental office. When Xuanzang traveled through central Asia, he commented on the clothing styles of the kingdoms through which he passed, as one visible indicator of their degree of conformity to universal Tang norms.5 Heian Japan always ranked high on these tests. The clothing culture of the Heian culture was particularly conspicuous, and Chinese robes were standard court attire.6 Just as the technological prowess of the modern age has hardly solved all of our problems, the application of this paradigm still allowed for a great deal of interpretive flexibility and complexity in mediating between the paradigm and the particular situation. The use of ritual on board the ship in Ennin’s journal demonstrates the great variety of ritual possibilities available to solve a single problem—getting the wind to blow in the right direction. The proper ritual response also depended on the interpretation of the nature of the problem, which shifted in response to the success or failure of the various ritual attempts. One particularly telling moment is when Ennin, himself a Buddhist ritual specialist, employs the diviner to perform some rites for him. The situation is much more 5 Xuanzang and Bianji, The Great Tang Dynasty Record of the Western Regions, trans. Li Rongxi, Bukky# Dend# Ky#kai English Tripitaka 79 (Numata Center for Buddhist Translation and Research, 1996). 6 Carole Cavanaugh, "Text and Textile: Unweaving the Female Subject in Heian Writing," Positions 4, no. 3 (1996): 595-636. 88 like an engineer taking his car to the mechanic than a Catholic priest asking a Protestant pastor to exorcize his house. Although cultural and ritual technology sound like oxymorons, I use these terms strategically to deliberately defamiliarize them, in an attempt to move beyond modern secular understanding of culture with its deep connection with national identity. A devoutly religious person’s worldview might be similar, but today we see religion as oppositional to science, or secularism, or even technology, when these oppositions made no sense in premodern East Asia In this chapter, I argue that Ennin’s various ritual records are best understood using this paradigm of cultural technology. I begin with Ennin’s records of ritual technology on board the ship as a prime example of the practical, functional aspect of ritual. Then I discuss how Tang festivals functioned as form of ritual technology for ordering society and examine those moments when Ennin specifically compares Tang, Heian, and Sillan rituals. Here I argue that Ennin was not a neutral observer but consistently emphasized the similarities between Heian and Tang rituals or posited them where none existed as part of a program to legitimize the Heian court. This emphasis contrasts his treatment of Sillan ritual practice, which he does not attempt to reconcile with Heian practice. Rituals Performed while Traveling by Sea Ennin’s experiences on board the ship provide a useful starting point for developing the idea of ritual as cultural technology. The rituals employed on the ship were eminently practical and concerned with solving specific, concrete problems. 89 Accordingly, the ritual employed or the god petitioned was determined by the situation at hand, rather than by an exclusive religious preference, or a hierarchical understanding of the various traditions. Ennin traveled by ship three times. The first trip was from Dazaifu (z•j) to Yangzhou, which ended with the ship being wrecked. In the second trip, his party traveled up the coast from Yangzhou to the Shandong peninsula, where they were buffeted by storms for four months. Ennin, frustrated by his failure to reach Mt. Tientai, disembarked right before the embassy set sail for home. His third and final trip was his uneventful return to Japan with Sillan sailors. Ennin recorded auspicious and inauspicious omens throughout his travels, but the uncertainty of his first long voyage over open-ocean seems to have caused him to pay particular attention to a variety of natural phenomena.7 This uncertainty was compounded by the general lack of knowledge about open-ocean voyaging among the Japanese, especially a Buddhist monk. On his first crossing, Ennin recorded any unusual encounter. One day he notes various floating debris, such as bamboo and clumps of reeds, as well as large fish, “following the ship, disporting themselves” (!"#$%&).8 Later, he notes that some “exhausted [egrets] settle down [on the ship] for the night and did not leave. Two or three would fly off to the west and then return again and perch. They did this several times” ('()*+,-./012,3456,789:).9 Then, the next day “early in the morning, the egrets flew off in pairs to the northwest” 7 The longest section out of sight of land is five days from when he leaves Ukushima on 838.6.23 and they run aground barely in sight of land near Yangzhou on 838.6.28. 8 838.6.24. 9 838.6.27. 90 (;<,=>?/@A0). Ennin also records the color of the water as it changes from light green to yellow mud, to whitish, and back to light green. These examples can be interpreted as either magical omens of the world or as scientific data that helped them understand their situation and locate the Yangzi river delta. This ambiguity shows the pointlessness of imposing this modern distinction. The presence of certain birds or fish or debris was potentially useful information in determining the direction and distance from land. The other data for which a modern scientific rationale cannot be found were also considered messages from nature in the same way as more obvious, and today scientifically verifiable signs. The cultural lore that encouraged them to view these signs as significant constituted a kind of cultural technology. Cultural because it was implicated in religious and cosmological systems and had an unquestioned authority, and technological because it constituted a system whose primary purpose was practical, to accomplish a particular task. As they approached the mainland, the ship ran aground on a shoal. Since they had long since lost contact with the other ships in the fleet,10 the passengers all prayed and made vows to the buddhas and gods.11 Some of the crew took a smaller ship and summoned help. When they reunited, the group recounted their harrowing voyage to find help. They “called upon Kannon and My#ken and it was their intent to seek for a way to survive. The wild winds then subsided.” (BCDE,FG,HIJK,LM.N).12 In this story, their prayers have an immediate effect, verifying their efficacy. Kannon (sk:Avalokitê&varas) is the bodhisattva of mercy and a popular savior figure. My#ken (sk:Sudar&ana) is also associated with protection from disaster, as well as vision, and the 10 838.6.24. 838.6.28. 12 838.7.2. My translation. 11 91 North star, all useful in dealing with navigational difficulties.13 Both were chosen for their appropriateness to the task at hand. When they arrived safely in Yangzhou, the ambassador fulfilled the vows made at sea by commissioning a painting of My#ken and four heavenly kings at the Kaiyuan monastery.14 Again, their religious experiences were directly related to practical concerns, and their religious exchanges were quid pro quo. The embassy’s trip back to Japan was much more difficult. In addition to the predominately Buddhist rituals of the first trip, the embassy continually called on the Sumiyoshi deity, dragons, the gods of heaven and earth, and various local deities. The diviner also played an important role. The variety of ritual approaches stemmed from the need to choose a ritual solution appropriate to the particular problem. For example, when they needed a specific answer to a question they relied on the diviner. At other times, the approach was more trial and error. The most common problems—wind from the wrong direction, storms, and bad weather—could be caused by any number of sources, such as ritual pollution, the anger of a particular local deity, dragons, etc, and the embassy leadership seemed to be working their way through the possibilities in an ad hoc way until the weather improved. In either case, a purely religious rationale for one set of ritual practices over another was completely absent.15 This very solution-oriented, trial and error approach supports the idea of ritual as cultural technology. As they prepared to embark again, their harrowing experiences still fresh in their memories, the embassy focused on ritual purity, primarily in relation to the Sumiyoshi 13 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 116n; Digital Dictionary of Buddhism (DDB) s.v. “FG,” ed. Charles Mueller, http://buddhism-dict.net/ddb/; also Iwanami Bukky" jiten, 771. 14 838.8.1. 15 A random example of a purely religious rationale might be something like, “Since boddhisatvas are more powerful than local gods or dragons, let’s just stick with them,” or “Buddhism is a false religion and so our dependence on it is angering the native gods.” These kinds of arguments seem to arise from competition for power and resources between different institutions, such as Daoist and Buddhist clergy, or factions at court that are allied with a particular religion. 92 deity, a Japanese deity in charge of protecting ships, especially those sailing to and from China. 16 Then after two deaths on board the ship within a few days of each other, the embassy leaders take extreme measures to make sure it did not happen again, even abandoning a sick sailor alone on shore.17 After all of this, in response to the continued inefficacy of their rituals, the officers in charge decided that the entire crew must purify themselves for several days and the monks were instructed to read sutras and call on the Buddha’s name.18 Although these rituals were primarily aimed at securing the blessing of the Sumiyoshi deity, and purity was less important in Buddhism than in the worship of indigenous gods, Buddhist rituals were still integrated into the process. On board the ship, the secular rulers were in charge of the ritual coordination. They requested rituals, or divination, or purification from the various ritual practitioners in response to their interpretation of the situation at hand. The ritual practitioners were not required to interpret the situation, but merely to respond to these requests. The secular authorities’ coordination of ritual activity encourages understanding ritual as cultural technology. Furthermore rituals tend to proceed from one deity to another in a trial and error fashion. For example, on 839.3.28 “in order to get a favorable wind, we worshipped the Great God of Sumiyoshi” (OPQM,RST!U). However, it did not work, so three days later they land and made a special sacrifice on land to “the deities of heaven and 16 Other references to the Sumiyoshi deity are found on 839.3.22, 28, 839.4.13, 18, 839.5.2, 839.6.5, 847.11.29. 17 On 839.4.13, they purified themselves and worshipped Sumiyoshi deity. On 839.4.15, another sailor died. On 839.5.2 after further offerings of tie-dyed silk, mirrors, and cloth to Sumiyoshi, they abandoned an almost dead sailor onshore so he would not die on board and defile the ship. Later, on 839.5.21, the diviner was treated the same way, except his death was recorded the following day. 18 839.5.5. This decision is made on the fifth moon festival, an auspicious day. They also bathed and laundered clothes. 93 earth” ('‘,¤’“)19, the generic terms for gods, devas, and nagas, earth-bound spirits,20 a more inclusive category. This offering was also ineffective. So thirteen days later they performed a Buddhist offering to the five directions for favorable wind.21 This time they “arranged an offering of the five grains to the Dragon Kings of the five directions in accordance with the Kanj#-gy#, and . . . recited scriptures and incantations” (VWXYZ[\],^[_`a,bYcdef). This makes sense since they needed wind from a certain direction and dragons were also associated with water, storms, and winds. In each instance, the choice of ritual is determined by the needs of the particular situation and the relevance of the gods. Throughout this process, there is a sense that they are trying everything they can think of in order to find something that will work. The discourse on purity was powerful because it explains why a ritual, although properly performed, might still be ineffective. However, once they had scrupulously maintained their purity, and it still did not work, they changed tactics and began petitioning a greater range of deities, including others for whom ritual purity was not an issue. There is no record of their discussion, so it is impossible to tell what the exact issues were, but there was obviously some concern over the failure of the ritual repertoire. We can see this both from the variety of rites employed and the requests to the diviner to determine what might be preventing them from moving forward. Ritual was the only possible response to factors, like weather, completely beyond their control and the frequency of rituals corresponds directly with the danger of their situation. 19 839.4.1. DDB s.v. “’“.” 21 839.4.14. 20 94 The embassy leaders relied on different ritual methods depending on the situation. If they had a specific question, then they requested a divination. Of course, depending on the question, they did not get a straight answer. When they encountered land, but were not sure whether they had been blown back to the Tang, or to Silla, they sent a boat ashore and then asked the diviner to perform a divination to answer their question.22 First he answered Tang and then Silla. When asked to decide on a verifiable fact, he vacillated, refusing to choose. Then those sent ashore returned with some locals, who told them that they were on the north side of Shandong peninsula. However, in response to a different kind of question, one that cannot be verified, it is easier to get a certain answer. For example, when lightning struck the mast, they divined using a turtle shell and found out that they had incurred the wrath of a local god by accidentally burying the diviner in front of a site sacred to him. In response, they purified themselves and made an offering to the local deity.23 Since the diviner was already dead, here we see that non-specialists were also able to perform divinations. When the diviner was alive, even Ennin requested his services. On 839.4.18, the day after they discovered they were still on the Tang coast instead of Silla, in order to return quickly to Japan to fulfill vows, Ennin had the diviner pray to the Shinto gods, and offered a crystal to the Sumiyoshi deity, a rosary to the dragon king, and a razor to the patron deity of ships. Ennin, rather than relying on the rituals to Buddhist gods he could perform himself, employed the services of the diviner to make requests for him to other gods. These are personal offerings, not on behalf of the ship, or commissioned by a higher officer, so far as we can tell. Each of the deities is specifically relevant to the ship 22 23 839.4.17. 839.5.27. 95 and weather in a way that a Buddhist deity would not be. Ennin is also covering all his bases by making offerings to all of the relevant deities at once. Even for Ennin, a Buddhist monk, the task at hand was more important in determining the proper ritual than an exclusive religious perspective. As before, Ennin noted any unusual occurrences, particularly those that seemed like bad omens, such as the howling of foxes during a storm.24 Or, on 839.5.19, when the shrine on board the ship is damaged, “the men all trembled with fear and could not control themselves” (gghi,*jkl). Later, when they tried to enter the bay near Mt. Chi, there were masses of clouds, an opposing wind, a black bird that circled their ship, and then thunder so that “all the officials on board were extremely afraid and suspected that these were the signs of the displeasure of the mysterious deities” (mno gpiqr,stuU*vwx).25 Again, [We] made vows, purified ourselves, and prayed to the god of the thunderbolt on the ship. We also worshipped the Great God of Sumiyoshi which was on board and made vows to Hachiman and the other great deities of Japan, to the Dragon-King of the Sea, and the deities of the mountains and islands of Dengzhou. (¹Î”•Õˆ–„—‘˜¥™š ¤„›ö˜¥œ½L¤„›—EW2•žL¤Ÿ" û„¡¢Âí´ b¤ž„£”¤•). Still unable to enter the bay, they anchored outside for several days. While this response was very comprehensive, they did not petition any Buddhist deities. Buddhist deities were petitioned during times of impending disaster, whereas here they act as though they have incurred the displeasure of some specific but unknown deity whom they must appease if they were to continue. 24 25 839.5.26. 839.6.5. 96 Throughout this long, difficult passage, they employed a variety of rituals to try and take control of their situation. Although it does not seem to have worked all that well in terms of actually improving the weather, the eventual success of the voyage was at least partly due to the role of ritual in giving the crew a sense of control over forces completely outside their control and thus helping keep their morale up in difficult circumstances. It also gave them a frame of reference to understand their situation and to exercise agency even if they knew their answers were provisional and subject to reinterpretation. Ritual never replaced a more rational course of action, but supplemented their other efforts as a response to those areas they could not directly control. This model of ritual also seems to have applied to the Sillan sailors manning the ships on Ennin’s final journey home. This journey was much less rigorous and took only sixteen days. Since they traveled from island to island the entire way, they were never out of site of land. The Sillan sailors were familiar with the route and rather than wondering where they were at each landing, they could provide Ennin with accurate information about each place. Also, there were only two days of unreliable wind. On the third day of no wind, the group on board cast away mirrors and the like in sacrifice to the spirits to obtain a wind. We monks burned incense and recited prayers on behalf of the spirits of the soil of this island, and the spirits of the great and the lowly, praying that we might safely reach our homeland. Then at this place we read the Diamond Sutra in one hundred scrolls on behalf of the spirits of the soil and the spirits of the great and the lowly. ($!yz{R UIM|}{~•,O€•‚ƒc!g„gU{…b,†‡ˆ{P‰Š ‹,Œ•Ž•O•‚ƒ3!g„gU{,‘’“Y”•).26 As soon as they got out of the inlet, a west wind picked up, and “it seemed like the spirits were aiding us” (¥»¤‡L¦). Two days later they reached Tsushima and in ten days 26 847.9.8. 97 they reached Dazaifu. Except for the addition of Ennin’s newly acquired esoteric rituals, the ritual response of the Sillan sailors was remarkably similar to that of the Japanese. There is no indication of any coordination by the leaders, but instead they petitioned a variety of gods, using a variety of methods. Since the Sillans were more competent sailors and the weather was more cooperative, unfortunately we have only this one example of ritual to compare with the four months of ritual by the Japanese embassy. Festivals as Ritual Technologies for Organizing Society The definition of ritual as technology meshes well with the classical Confucian argument for ritual as that which orders society.27 As Ian Chapman explains in his dissertation on Tang festivals, “Literati writers better evoke the Chinese concept jie [§], which borrows the metaphor of bamboo stalk segments to signify both the intervals of the solar year and the days marking them—that is festivals—and the moral quality of measuredness, or restraint.”28 Festivals and their accompanying rituals were thought to bring a willing submission to the ritually sanctioned order. In Confucian texts, ritual was contrasted with more coercive, but ultimately ineffective, means of ordering society.29 Since this understanding of ritual is primarily functional, there is some leeway in terms of content.30 Content was significant—rituals could be depraved or create societal solidarity around mistaken concepts. Han Yu’s Confucian polemic against the worship 27 Kurtis Hagen, “Xunzi and the Nature of Confucian Ritual,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 71, no. 2 (2003): 371-403. 28 Ian D. Chapman, “Carnival Canons: Calendars, Genealogy, and the Search for Ritual Cohesion in Medieval China” (PhD diss., Princeton University, 2007), 1. 29 Herbert Fingarette, Confucius—The Secular as Sacred (New York: Harper & Row, 1972). 30 Hagen, “Xunzi and Confucian Ritual,” 373. 98 of the Buddha’s finger bone relic is an argument about the content of a particular ritual.31 Still, many literati found room within these parameters for a wide variety of rituals including Buddhist and other rites that had no classical precedent. Ian Chapman, in his dissertation on the Tang festival calendar, notes, “Festival celebration occupied an ambiguous space within the su/li ["/+] continuum.32 Some popular customs had impeccable li credentials, appearing in every classical and dynastic roll of honor. Others came with no written vitae whatsoever, or they had a confusing assortment of them in foreign languages, but lacked local accreditation.”33 In essence, the solid Confucian rationale for ritual could be used to justify a great variety of festivals and rituals. In general, the unification of the Tang also brought about greater consolidation and coordination of the ritual calendar. Some of this was top down, through the establishment of new imperial rituals, such as imperial birthday celebration inaugurated by Xuanzang, while others emerged on their own as the flourishing Buddhist monasteries inserted themselves into the existing ritual calendar.34 Given this philosophical underpinning, proper observance of festivals and performance of the appropriate rituals were evidence of worthy rulership. Rulers orchestrated festivals and rituals to communicate their power and legitimacy. They also used festival and ritual to further their own agendas. In 843, Wuzong reinstituted the debates and lectures between Buddhists and Daoists following the Lantern Festival, as a way to discredit Buddhists and show his favor towards Daoists, to whom he awarded the 31 An English translation of the entire letter can be found in Edwin O. Reischauer, Ennin’s Travels in T’ang China (New York: Ronald Press, 1955), 221. Han Yu ¨©, “Lun Fo gu biao” ùª«¬, Han Yu wen xuan ¨©]- (Beijing: Renmin Wenxue Chuban ½®:qº]^JK, 1994), 172-9. 32 Popular,vulgar/refined. 33 Chapman, “Carnival Canons,” 25. 34 Chapman, “Carnival Canons,” 323. 99 victory. Eventually, the emperor stopped inviting Buddhist monks altogether. Rather than create a new festival, Wuzong inserted a new event into the existing festival calendar, showing that there was flexibility in how festivals were celebrated, especially in adding new layers of meaning or subtly altering the rationale for the festival. However, even the emperor had to respect the meaning and observance of festivals. For example, among Ennin’s criticisms of Emperor Wuzong were several instances where he failed to observe the proper festival calendar. In 845.1.3, Ennin records that the emperor forced the workers constructing his terrace to work through the Cold Food Festival, without giving them the time off to visit and worship at their family tombs. In response, [The workers were] resentful and, holding their tools, they bowed down, and all three thousand of them raised their voices together. The emperor was afraid and bestowed on each one bolt of silk and gave him a three-day holiday. (®¯°±²„Ó³qq[´o‚->µ¶„/q·Ó¸¹„ ºÓD»).35 Ennin gives this as an example of how the emperor has veered off the correct course by no longer respecting the traditional festivals and the needs of the people they represented. Had this been a mere labor dispute, it would have been mercilessly put down, but the emperor, realizing the symbolic significance of this event, capitulated. On another occasion, The emperor ordered all of the flowers, medicines, and the like which had been offered at the Buddha halls of the monasteries to be taken to the Xingtang guan [a Daoist shrine] and offered as sacrifices to the heavenly deities. On the fifteenth day the emperor went to the Daoist monastery and summoned the people to see [the display], but the people cursed him, saying that since he had seized the offerings to the Buddhas and presented them to the spirits, who would be willing to look at them? The emperor was surprised that the people did not come. (¼Þí±ª½¾þ¿Àž„ 35 Both Zhou and Ono rearrange the date based on the date of the Cold Food Festival to 845.2.10. In Reischauer, this entry falls under 845.1.3. 100 µÁÂIjÃö,Ä‚0ÐD„,ÁÅÆÃÇ„È/ÉÞÊ‚/É! ËÌͪ¾þö£¤„ÎÏÃÊÐ,ÁÑ/Éôü).36 In the first example, the people took advantage of the symbolic capital of the festival, especially since it was associated with the important Confucian duty to one’s ancestors, to voice their complaints. In the second, they passively resisted the emperor’s attempt to blatantly rewrite the significance of an important Buddhist festival. Both instances show how the potential for symbolic action during festival runs both ways and that even an autocratic emperor was unable to exercise complete control. Festivals were an opportunity to demonstrate one’s worthiness to rule and reaffirm the existing order, but as these examples show, there is also the possibility of failure and subsequent loss of political capital. These examples show that a consideration of culture as technology should not reduce technology to its functional aspects. Cultural technologies existed within a field with many actors, all with varying degrees of power and autonomy. Ennin recorded many events of the Tang festival calendar. In these records, Ennin makes little effort to differentiate between Buddhist and indigenous traditions, and a more inclusive definition of ritual as cultural technology goes much further in explicating Ennin’s interest.37 Although Ennin appears unconcerned with separating out the Buddhist elements of these festivals from the non-Buddhist, he frequently compares Tang practices with those of the Heian court. In these sections of the journal, rather than record narrowly defined Buddhist ritual, Ennin makes more general comparisons of the cultural technologies of Tang and Heian societies. 36 844.4.1. Furthermore, Michael Como actually connects the Japanese adoption of the Tang festival calendar with their adoption of continental sericulture technology. Michael Como, “Silkworms and Consorts in Nara Japan,” Asian Folklore Studies 64, no. 1 (2005): 111-131. 37 101 From his journal it is clear how fully the monasteries were integrated into the religious life of the Tang, even into such traditional, non-Buddhist festivals as the Winter’s Solstice, New Year’s Day, and the Lantern Festival. Buddhist monasteries had come to play a central role in these festivals and had created a discourse to explain their participation. By the Tang, monasteries developed a specific ritual program for the New Year’s celebration, which included worshipping the Buddha, the reading of the accounts for the year before the entire congregation, and three days of vegetarian feasts, even though neither the Winter Solstice nor New Year’s Day were originally Buddhist at all.38 For the Lantern Festival, the festivities actually centered on the Buddhist monasteries. Although individual homes also lit lanterns, the monasteries competed with each other to build the biggest and most elaborate lantern displays. The greater wealth of the monasteries enabled them to position themselves as central in this festival and in the process create a Buddhist meaning for the festival, that the light of the lamps were an offering to the Buddha and to former teachers, which was in turn adopted by laymen as well (±ÇÒÓ¾þª„ÕÔö¸Õ„"qÖI). Although various origins have been cited for this festival, indigenous Chinese, Daoist, and Buddhist, in terms of practice, these rationales were irrelevant. 39 The participants came to the monastery to see the spectacle as well as to worship. This is also true of explicitly Buddhist festivals like the procession of the finger bone relic. To many spectators the appeal was probably the same as a parade. John Kieschnick’s book The Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture persuasively 38 838.12.29. Christian Roy, Traditional Festivals: A Multicultural Encyclopedia (ABC-CLIO, 2005), 240-4. Derk Bodde, Festivals in Classical China: New Year and Other Annual Observances during the Han Dynasty, 206 B.C.-A.D. 220 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1975). 39 102 argues that the impact of Buddhism on Chinese society has much to do with its impact on various kinds of material culture.40 Both the lack of concern over the rationale as well as the importance of material culture support the idea of ritual as cultural technology. Comparison of Heian and Tang Festivals In the early parts of Ennin’s journal, there are many instances where he explicitly compares what he sees in the Tang with Heian Japan. In almost every case, Ennin emphasizes the continuity between Tang and Heian ritual forms, even when such continuities were rather tenuous. Soon after he arrived, Ennin witnessed a great archery exhibition in Yangzhou on 838.9.23. Although the date does not correspond to any known festival and there is no evidence that this exhibition was a festival in the sense of a recurring yearly event, Ennin describes it as a “great festival” or da jie (L§) and suggests that “this affair corresponds to the ‘Target Shooting Festival’ of the fifth day of the fifth month in Japan” (P×EW ÐØÐDÙÚd§). 41 Despite evidence to the contrary, Ennin felt compelled to find a corresponding Japanese festival, even one that happened at a totally different time of year, in order to demonstrate that Tang China and Heian Japan were culturally contiguous. The foundation of the Heian bureaucracy was based on continental cultural technologies and Ennin reassured his Heian readers of the fundamental unity of the two systems. Ennin exhibits this same tendency when describing the Winter Solstice festival on 838.11.27. On the night of the 26th “no one sleeps. It is the same as New Year’s Eve and 40 John Kieschnick, The Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003). 41 None of the subsequent years record any kind of similar festival on that day, although the next year Ennin noted that 9.23 was the first day of winter. 103 the nights of K"shin in our country” (qdôÛ,õEWšØÜÝdÞ¹/). Again, the New Year celebration was still a month away and the winter solstice had nothing to do with the wake traditionally held on K"shin, the 57th day of the sixty-day cycle.42 Although he was clearly puzzled by some of the ritual greetings and rationalizes that they must “conform to the pleasures of men of former times” (»4qMï), of the entire festival he predictably states, “This festival is exactly the same as New Year’s Day in Japan” (ߧàáõEWšØqDd§¹/).43 Again, despite many obvious differences in practice, Ennin affirms the continuity between Heian and Tang practices. Since many Heian customs were based on continental precedents, there probably were many similarities. The question is not so much the level of similarity or difference, but of identifying Ennin’s discursive position. He mentions differences, but only to account for them somehow, reassuring his Japanese readers that their cultural practices were in line with the Tang norms. The comparability of Tang and Heian rituals and festivals suggests a view of culture as technology divorced from local, ethnic identity. This is not to say that culture and religious identity were not central to the formation and maintenance of the state, but that they were not culturally specific. Finally, on New Year’s Day, Ennin described various Tang practices, such as burning paper money, exploding bamboo, and shouting “Wansui” (_â), which suggests that they differed from Heian practice.44 He also writes, “On this night in Japan lamps are lit everywhere—in gardens, within homes, and in front of gates. In the Tang, it is not 42 Reischauer, Ennin’s Diary, 58n252. The wake on the night of K"shin actually has a Daoist rationale and is described in Masuo Shinichiro, “Daoism in Japan,” trans. Livia Kohn, Daoism Handbook, ed. Livia Kohn (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 835-6. 43 838.11.27. 44 838.12.29. More familiar in the west in its Japanese pronunciation, banzai. 104 so. Unlike our country, they only light the usual lamps” (DEWßÞãCäÇå4„ ÂæµçÓ/‚LjôI„èçéÓ„ô¥EW/.)45 From Ennin’s description, it appears that the Heian practice combined elements of the Tang New Year’s Day and the Lantern Festival, which Ennin did not realize was coming up in fifteen days. On the day of the Lantern Festival, he made the connection and wrote, “It was not unlike New Year’s Eve in Japan” (õEW×µêÞôQr).46 This account stands out because Ennin compared Tang practices to those of the Heian court, and found the Tang practices lacking. This episode requires us to nuance this idea of cultural continuity. For Ennin, Tang China and Heian Japan were both heirs of the classical continental tradition, two branches from the same root, and that Tang China, despite its prestige, was not necessarily normative. The comparability of the two cultures stems from this common heritage. However, the final gesture was one of reconciliation. As all these examples show, Ennin’s journal reveals many differences between the Tang and Heian observances of a similar ritual calendar.47 Overall, Ennin minimizes these differences and maximizes any similarities, real or imagined. Based on Ennin’s observations, it seems that New Year’s Day in the Heian court combined aspects of the Tang Winter Solstice, New Year’s, and the Lantern Festival, compressing an extended Tang season of celebration into a single day. 48 The most probable reason was that Tang 45 838.12.29. 839.1.15. 47 Maruyama Yumiko ë´ìëÁ, “T# to Nihon no nenj! gy#ji” j:DE=×;ÇP, in T" to Nihon j :DE, ed. Ikeda On í‚î (Yoshikawa k#bunkan ½¤ï]«, 1992), 205-232. On page 215, Maruyama details the festivals held in both places; on page 219, she lists the festivals that are different. Although there are many Ennin does not mention at all, several of those he mentions often were festivals not held in the Heian court, like the Lantern Festival and the Cold Food Festival. She also argues on page 232 that Ennin’s record shows a naturalization of the foreign festival calendar by the Heian court. 48 For a description of the various records of ritual lantern lighting in Japan, see Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 327-8. 46 105 society was much richer overall than Heian Japan and could support greater leisure and expenditure for these types of festivals. New Year’s observances at the Heian court also included offerings and festivals for local Japanese deities, which were lacking in China. All of this shows that for rituals and festivals to work they need not be identical. Like various technological solutions to a given problem, the emphasis was on the functionality, and so there was a range of acceptable solutions. Overall, Ennin emphasizes the similarities between Heian and Tang practice, even when similar practices commemorate totally different events and are probably unrelated. Implicitly, Ennin operates from a functional theory of ritual as technology where differences in the specific details are less important than the role ritual plays in ordering society and creating cohesiveness. Still, his anxiety to affirm the similarity of the two ritual systems is indicative of the Japanese attitude toward the continent. This emphasis is much more marked earlier in the text. Over time, his cultural anxiety lessened and his purpose became more focused. Later, his most detailed descriptions are almost all of Buddhist rituals. Comparison with Sillan Rituals Ennin’s emphasis on the similarity of Heian and Tang festivals is in marked contrast with his attitude towards the Sillan festivals and rituals he views at Mt. Chi. Here Ennin is far from his desired course, distant from any religious or political centers. Still he is there for almost a year and learns much from the Sillan monks, whose level of familiarity with continental culture and Buddhism easily exceeds Ennin’s and his 106 companions.49 However, since Japan imagines Silla as its cultural equal and not a source for cultural capital, Ennin’s journal reflects these differences.50 On 839.8.15, about a month after Ennin arrives, the cloister celebrates a special holiday commemorating a Sillan victory over Parhae, another Korean state to the northwest. Ennin remarks, “Such a festival is not held in other countries and Silla alone observes it” (ð§íWw»,³ÎÏWñ»ß§), emphasizing their foreignness and the cultural differences between him and the Sillans. Later, when Ennin discusses the Buddhist practices of the monastery, his assessment is similar. On 839.11.16, a group of lay Sillans came to the cloister to participate in a reading of the Lotus Sutra.51 One might expect Ennin, as a Tendai monk, to be interested in a reading of the Lotus Sutra, but instead he tried to leave the cloister and stay at another close by “because the lecturing in this cloister had started” (Û×ÅÑ,æ,òJ ±). Unable to temporarily change residences because the Tang officials had not yet decided his case, he returned to the monastery. Of the ritual he writes, The lecturing, worshiping, and repentances are all done in accordance with the customs of Silla. The worship and repentance at dusk and before dawn are in the Tang manner, but all the rest are in the Sillan language. Everyone in the assemblage, monk or layman, old or young, noble or humble alike is Sillan except for us Japanese, three monks and a servant. (–—Y˜™,š›œeM•|ž"Ÿ, <1.˜™,¡V¢M,k£ ¤Vœe¥E|–¦§¨•©ª«¬,-®œeg,ž2}c&¯°g, ±Š‹g²).52 49 In addition to their mastery of ritual shown here, the Prior’s letter that he shows Ennin is far superior to any that Ennin will write. 50 William H. McCullough, “The Heian Court,” in Cambridge History of Japan: Volume 2: Heian Japan, ed. Donald H. Shively and William H. McCullough (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 89-90. 51 For more on Sillan Buddhism, see Richard McBride, Domesticating the Dharma: Buddhist Cults and the Hwaom Synthesis in Silla Korea (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2008). 52 839.11.16. 107 This passage deliberately emphasizes the Sillan monks’ foreignness, contrasted with those rites performed in the Tang manner and the presence of the three Japanese monks. Here we see that the ritual repertoire employed a variety of languages and that they seem to be ranked in terms of their legitimacy. Ennin is emphatically not interested in those rituals performed in the indigenous, non-normative Sillan language. Even the words to describe the Sillan customs “fengsu” (M•) has a negative connotation, in contrast to the term for Tang manner “Tang feng” (¢M). Feng by itself refers to the suasive moral force of ritual and culture described in the introduction to the Shi jing (Rð Odes), whereas, the su in fengsu means base or vulgar, or, in a Buddhist context, secular or lay, suggesting that fengsu are those customs which need changing. 53 Ennin was also critical of aspects of the Sillan performance of Buddhist rituals. Of a scripture reading ceremony on the 22nd of either the 11th or 12th month, Ennin writes, “Their intonation was wholly Sillan and did not resemble the Tang sounds” (>óqÚ ÎÏ„ô¥j>). Here although the text is Chinese, the pronunciation is Sillan, showing how the perceived accuracy of the performance is also a source of legitimacy. Ennin holds it up to the Tang standard and finds it lacking. In other instances, Ennin notes similarities between Japanese and Sillan ritual forms. Although he does not acknowledge this, these similarities are due to the formative influence of Silla and Paekche on Japanese Buddhism.54 Of a question and answer segment, he writes, 53 For the original text and a discussion of this passage, see Stephen Owen, Readings in Chinese Literary Thought (Cambride, MA: Harvard University, Council on East Asian Studies, 1992), 37-49. 54 Takeuchi Nobuo úô,-, “Y#shu oyobi Ch#an ni okeru Ennin no Shittan gakush!—toku ni h#getu ‘shittan jimo’ wo megutte” õÂöŒ÷Ã-xö‘•#$=øù(K --’xúØÌûüýþÿ!І "#$‰, Hikaku bunka kenky! ²%]íÞß 33 (1994): 3-5. 108 It was the same as Japan, except that the rite of pointing out doctrinal difficulties was somewhat different. After lowering his hand at his side three times and before making any explanation, [a debater] would suddenly proclaim the difficulty, shouting with all his might like a man enraged, and the lecturer would accept the problem and would reply without raising problems in return. (õEW¹„èöê&'(‚)*Ó +Ž„݈,4„-I.Ýö„oøL/q„µ>01‚Ѹ2ö„ è3ô4ö).55 After noting the similarity, Ennin seems perplexed by the differences and his attitude is rather condescending. Later, during another chanting of a hymn, Ennin notes, “It sounded very much the way it does in Japan” (>56¥EW). This is probably due to the phonetic similarities between Sillan and Japanese and the formative influence of the peninsular states on early Buddhism in Japan.56 Although critical of the Sillan adaptation of Tang Buddhism, Ennin ignores the implications of his critique for Japanese Buddhism, whose distance from the Tang norm was probably even greater. Even the Sillan New Year’s celebration was closer to the Japanese than to the Tang. Ennin records the following: In the evening, they lighted lamps as offerings at the Buddha Hall and the Scripture Storehouse of this Sillan Cloister but they did not light lamps elsewhere. They burned bamboo leaves and grass in the stoves in each of the cells, and smoke poured from the chimneys. At dusk, before midnight, after midnight, and before dawn they worshipped Buddha, and after midnight the novices and disciples went around to the various cells with congratulatory words on the New Year, in the Tang manner. (#³, •œe´µ¶Y·¸¹]º,»•*¸¹|$¼½¾,~¿ÀcÁ, ÃÄÅ|"Ÿ,ÆÇ,ÈÇ, <˜µ|ÈÇ,ÉÊË,„Ì{͉ɼ ÎÏ,ÐÏwÑV¢MÒ).57 55 839.11.22. J. Marshall Unger, “Substratum and Adstratum in Prehistric Japanese,” in Language Contacts in Prehistory: Studies in Stratigraphy, ed. Henning Andersen (John Benjamins Publishing, 2003), 249-50; T. Encho, “The Influence of Silla Buddhism in Japan During the Asuka-Hakuho Period,” in Buddhist Culture in Korea (Seoul: Si-oa-Yong-o-sa Publishers, 1982); Takeuchi Nobuo úô,-, “Y#shu oyobi Ch#an ni okeru Ennin no Shittan gakush!—tokuni h#getsu Shittan jimo o megutte” õÂöŒ÷Ã-xö‘•#$ =øù(K--’xúØÌûüýþÿ!І"#$‰ , Hikaku bunka kenky! ²%]í 33 (1994): 3-5. 57 839.12.29. 56 109 On the day of the Lantern Festival fifteen days later, nothing happens. Here again, the Sillan customs are closer to the Japanese, combining the three days into one holiday at New Year’s, but Ennin makes no note of this, although he approvingly notes their observance of certain Tang customs. Despite the similarities between Heian and Sillan ritual forms, Ennin emphasizes differences. This contrasts with his comparisons with Tang China, where, despite differences, he emphasizes similarities. Ennin imagines himself as simply recording what he sees, and the legitimacy of the journal genre is tied to the notion of immediacy and accuracy. In these sections though, Ennin’s biases and the worldview that shapes them clearly emerge. Of course, it is these biases that I find most revealing, and, it is to Ennin’s credit as an ethnographer that the evidence that contradicts and undermines his case is found in his own journal. Conclusion Overall, Ennin’s focus on ritual performance stems from two sources: an older idea about culture as technology, and a newer emphasis within Buddhism on the primacy of ritual forms. This new emphasis was based on K!kai’s introduction and formulation of esoteric Buddhism and Saich#’s decision to incorporate this into the Tendai sect. K!kai’s esoteric reconceptualization of Buddhism in the preceding decades created a new religious paradigm where ritual performance was central, replacing the scholarly, textcentered model of the Nara period. With Ennin’s record, the journal emerged as the genre ideally suited to this new cultural context, because it was able to transcribe the ephemeral moments of ritual performances, instructions, and initiations, into a durable form of cultural capital. For Ennin, the older model was primarily responsible for his 110 perspective on the ritual he views, but the newer model provided additional motivation for him to record what he sees in such great detail. Although journals were kept prior to Ennin, after him, the genre flourished among monks traveling to China and among courtiers, a phenomenon that has yet to be explained. The esoteric emphasis on direct master-student transmission followed by initiation and embodied enlightenment created a field where the journal became an ideal way to record and verify these experiences. In addition to the many practical reasons for keeping a journal, this new paradigm made the journal into a culturally significant genre. Throughout his journal, Ennin compares the rituals he observed with those he was familiar with, comparing Heian accomplishments against the Tang society on which it was based. From the journal it is clear that Ennin saw both Heian and Tang culture as belonging to a common culture. In almost every instance, Ennin emphasizes the similarities between the two cultures, and downplays or ignores any differences. Ennin’s rejection of the similarity of the Sillan ritual forms stands in marked contrast and shows how, even at this early period, the Heian court was concerned with glossing over their immense cultural debt to the peninsular states. The decision was based less on a consideration of actual similarities or differences between the cultures than on the cultural and political prestige of the states. These issues are also relevant to scholars of East Asian religious studies as they consider the doctrinal and institutional connections between each state. This study contributes to the work on East Asian religion that has begun to question the absolute doctrinal differences between religions, in favor of a focus on institutional arrangements and concerns. Ennin’s religious “eclecticism” is less eclectic than it is an expression of a 111 way of thinking about religion that is significantly different from the modern West. Here, I find the idea of cultural technology a useful heuristic that shifts the focus away from doctrinal concerns to the more concrete world of material techniques, practices, and ritual apparatus. This new focus goes much further in illuminating the inner logic of Ennin’s journal, as well as the larger dynamics of Heian-Tang cultural exchange. 112 Chapter 3. Seeking for the Law: Records of Buddhist Ritual Ennin’s primary purpose in traveling to China was to study esoteric Buddhism, receive initiations and ordinations, and procure esoteric texts, mandala, and other ritual implements to bring back to Japan. Considering that this was the focus of his journey, these activities take up a surprisingly small proportion of his total journal. Although Ennin records buying and copying texts and he notes who his teachers were and what ordinations he received, there is not much in terms of descriptions of esoteric Buddhist ritual.1 Instead, Ennin’s descriptions of Buddhist ritual have more in common with his descriptions of other types of ritual, and seem to fit within the paradigm of ritual as cultural technology. Essentially, this chapter continues the argument of the previous chapter, but focusing on Ennin’s records of Buddhist rituals. I begin with Ennin’s records of maigre feasts, which are not particularly esoteric, but are by far the most commonly recorded ritual in the entire journal. Here Ennin takes a single ritual and shows how it can be repurposed for various ritual occasions and uses. Then I consider Ennin’s records of his study of esoteric Buddhism and his ordinations and initiations in Yangzhou, Mt. Wutai, and Changan. Although later Tendai commentators portray Ennin’s esoteric instruction as systematic and complete, his journal reveals a far more idiosyncratic, contingent picture. Each set of examples nuances and complicates our understanding of the cultural technology and how the journal functioned to transmit this 1 Perhaps, this is normal since esoteric rituals were supposed to be secret, but in fact, a variety of other kinds of texts record and explain esoteric rituals. For a discussion of the issue of secrecy, see Fabio Rambelli, “Secrecy in Japanese Esoteric Buddhism,” in The Culture of Secrecy in Japanese Religion, ed. Bernhard Scheid and Mark Teeuwen (New York: Routledge, 2006), 107-29. 113 information to Japan. Finally, I examine Ennin’s interest in chanting and his study of Sanskrit, as two more facets of Ennin’s development of his ritual repertoire. Maigre Feasts The maigre feast was the most common ritual that Ennin participated in and fulfilled several important religious and social functions.2 If Ennin’s record is representative of overall Tang practice, sponsoring a vegetarian meal was one of the most common types of offerings to the Buddhist community. Often performed in conjunction with a specific request, or to fulfill a vow, the maigre feast turns the fulfilling of a basic human need for food into an opportunity to generate merit for both monks and laypeople. Maigre feasts also filled a variety of social functions, such as creating an opportunity to meet the monks of a monastery, or payments for hospitality or other services.3 Maigre feasts were sponsored for a variety of reasons and were a familiar practice throughout East Asia. Ennin arranged a maigre feast soon after the Japanese embassy arrived. The Sillan monks at the Mt. Chi cloister and a Parhae prince also sponsored them.4 Ennin describes several maigre feasts held throughout the New Year’s celebrations and following the Lantern festival. A maigre feast was held to celebrate the arrival of a monastic officer5 and the completion of the paintings made to fulfill the vows 2 DDB, s.v. “Ó.” The primary meaning of the character “Ó” (jp:sai, ch:zhai) is to abstain, to purify by fasting,but it came to refer to much broader range of meanings, including, religious duties, observing the precepts, purify oneself, and the pre-noon meal, or meal taken at Buddhist ceremonies. It is this final meaning which Reischauer translates as “maigre feast.” 3 Ono Katsutoshi, “Ennin no mita T# no Bukky# girei” #$=û|j=êÜ, in Jikaku Daishi kenky! ¶ ·L¸Þß, ed. Fukui K#jun ~•€× (Tendai gakkai ,µ(•, 1964), 184. Ono also goes over each of the same three maigre feasts and explains them. 4 838.8.29, 840.2.14, 840.3.28. 5 839.IC.3. 114 the embassy made at sea.6 Fairly insignificant occasions could also be the source for an impromptu maigre feast. While he was traveling to Mt. Wutai, Ennin’s arrival in a small town was enough reason for them to hold a small maigre feast in his honor,7 or when an official gave Ennin more goods than he could carry, Ennin donated the extra for a maigre feast to be held the following day.8 Officials also sponsored maigre feasts for various reasons, such as the celebration for the birthday of an official’s son, or a memorial for a dead emperor.9 In Changan, the emperor sponsored maigre feasts around New Year’s and hosted them in the palace.10 Maigre feasts for the Emperor Wuzong’s (+Ñ 810-46) birthday were observed in the provinces as well as in Changan,11 where he held a maigre feasts for both Daoists and Buddhist.12 Part of the appeal of the maigre feast ritual and one reason it was so widespread was its versatility. Although the term “maigre feast” is an ostensibly Buddhist term, as the last examples demonstrate, the Daoists must have developed a comparable ceremony. When Emperor Wuzong began to favor the Daoist priests, he held a maigre feast for Daoist priests and did not invite any Buddhism monks.13 At this point, obviously the term “maigre feast” had been emptied of its Buddhist content altogether and merely described a feast sponsored for religious practitioners.14 6 839.3.3. 840.2.28. 8 840.3.5. 9 Birthday celebration on 840.4.1. Memorial for the death of Emperor Wenzong (]Ñ 809-40), who died while Ennin was in China. 840.12.8 10 841.1.7. 11 840.6.8, 840.6.11. 12 842.6.11, 841.6.11. 13 844.4.1. 14 For specific examples of Buddhism-Daoist exchange and appropriation, see Christine Mollier, Buddhism and Taoism Face to Face: Scripture, Ritual, and Iconographic Exchange in Medieval China (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2008). What is unique about this example is that the Daoist appropriation of Buddhist ritual was motivated not only by self-interest, but also by a government mandate that they provide 7 115 Although Ennin mentions most of the maigre feasts only in passing, in three instances Ennin describes maigre feasts in sufficient detail to allow a more thorough analysis. Each of these accounts is sufficiently detailed that it would be possible to recreate the ritual based on Ennin’s descriptions. Although the underlying structure is similar, there is some variation between these feasts according to their purpose. Since Ennin was already familiar with the basic idea of the maigre feast, and some form was practiced in Heian Japan, the purpose of these transcriptions was to record these details and the way this ritual could be restructured for various purposes.15 The first lengthy description of a maigre feast is on 838.11.24, in Yangzhou, soon after the embassy’s arrival. Ennin sponsored it on the anniversary of the death of the monk Tientai, one of the founders of his sect. The ritual proceeded as follows. All of the monks entered the hall and sat according to rank. The patron stood at the head of the hall. A monk chanted a hymn to call the assembly to order while another monk beat a wooden mallet. The hymn was “How through this scripture is one eventually to reach the other shore? We desire the Buddha to open to us this subtle mystery and to explain it in detail for all creatures” (Ë.-ßð„ß7Â89„•ª: ñ;„<—+ý說). During this, someone passed out sutras which all recited together. The mallet was struck again. A monk chanted, “Reverence the three eternal treasures” (=+éœÓ>). They all stood. The chanting master chanted, “The body of Rulai is without exhaustion” (7ÔÕÖ×) while the patron and head monks all lit incense. They a ritual service that originated as a Buddhist practice. It would be interesting to see the content of these Daoist maigre feasts, but unfortunately Ennin was not invited. 15 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 287. The form Ennin records is similar to the present practice on Mt. Hiei. This is probably due both the similarities that Ennin points out in his journal, as well the influence of his record on subsequent Tendai practice. 116 praised the Buddha, read the maigre feast essay, and chanted in unison. Then they chanted praises to the eight classes of demigods and dragons. All sat. The head monks and sponsors left. Finally, Ennin and his company made a separate offering to the Tientai founders they were honoring. The basic structure of this ritual consisted of many common chants and texts. Ono Katsutoshi notes that the invocation of the three treasures is a common way to start a meeting and that the phrase about the opposite shore is one of the most commonly chanted lines in Buddhism.16 Likewise, the phrase chanted while the incense was offered is always used for this purpose.17 Ennin does not quote these in full, but only the first few characters, suggesting that he was merely signaling the beginning of a familiar chant to his listeners. The novelty was not so much the content as the structure and the potential for comparison. In different places, Ennin compares different stages of the ritual to Heian practice. “The rite of incense burning is the same as in Japan . . . After that, they then gave praise to the Buddha. This did not differ in wording from the praise of the Buddha at the beginning of a prayer in our country” (&•ØÙ,ÚŠ‹°Û . . . Üݵ,ÚŠ‹Þ‡ Æݵwß*qà). Likewise, the final chanting of praises was “the same as what we call in Japan hymns for the eight classes of demi-gods and the good spirits and kings” (á Œâ˜,ÚŠ‹¨Oã`äå,ÉæUa{ç°Û). After the ritual, Ennin also mentions other Tang practices (¢‹wM) associated with the maigre feast, implying that 16 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 2:289. It is found in the Daihan nehan ky" (sk:Mah'parinirv'(a s!tra !Û èéê) 17 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 2:289. It is also found in the Sh"mangy" (sk:)r*m'l' s!tra ëìê). 117 they differed from those in Japan.18 On one level, Ennin uses these comparisons as familiar reference points to help his Japanese audience understand the ritual. On another, Ennin legitimizes Heian practice by confirming its similarity to Tang practice, showing a similar focus as his record of non-Buddhist ritual. The next maigre feast Ennin describes in detail was on 838.12.8 for over 500 monks. Sponsored by the minister of state and general of the provincial government to commemorate a state anniversary (W?dD), it combined Buddhist and state ritual and offered another potentially useful configuration of the maigre feast ritual. Although Ennin participated in many maigre feasts, the layout and performance of this particular one was unique and provided a template that Ennin could use in Japan if the need arose. The maigre feast began with an elaborate entrance by the minister of state and the general, followed by civilian and military officials. They came in together through the great gate and entered curtained areas on the East and West of the courtyard, respectively, where they changed slippers and washed their hands. Then they each crossed bridges on the East and West, circumambulated the Buddha halls and met in the middle to worship the Buddha. From there, the ritual resembled the basic format of the other maigre feasts, beginning with the invocation to reverence the three treasures, the offering of incense, and chanting. Rather than incense sticks, the officials had censers and were followed by subordinate officials and a group of monks holding banners and fake lotus flowers. These monks chanted as they circled the Buddha. Instead of the maigre feast essay, a venerable monk intoned a prayer (í°©)îïvð,ñÞ‡ò). This was followed by the familiar hymn to the eight classes of demigods and an additional prayer on behalf of 18 These have to do with the division of the money received for the maigre feast and not the actual ritual. 118 the late emperor who was being commemorated (¥ó•ôõö). Finally, the minister of state and general again reverenced the Buddha and then departed to dine separately. Although the basic structure was the same, the ceremony was much more elaborate and lavish and had been restructured to accommodate the new purpose of imperial commemoration. Also, the entire ceremony was presided over by government officials with the monks in a supporting role. The Buddhist monastery provided the site, the ritual structure, and the ritual technicians for what was essentially a state ritual. In this example, the maigre feast provided a generic Buddhist ritual structure that could be appropriated for a variety of possible uses. The final maigre feast that Ennin describes in detail was on Mt. Wutai, where yet another set of considerations prompted a different configuration of the same basic elements.19 At Mt. Wutai, the emphasis was on the common spirituality of all of the participants of the maigre feast, including laymen, women, and children. For example, when the participants of the feast came into the hall, each group—“full monks, novices, laymen, children, and women” (!},ÊË,•g,÷ø,ùg,Váúûü)—was noted individually. During the offering of incense section, everyone participated “regardless of whether he was a cleric or layman, man or woman” (*ý}•þù,&• ×ÿü). Furthermore, when the food was finally distributed, “The noble and humble, the old and young, clerics and laymen, men and women, all were provided for equally” (n!©ª,¨•þùˆ{]ºÒ). 19 840.5.5. 119 Later Ennin relates an origin myth that explains why equality was emphasized on Mt. Wutai. A certain patron wanted to provide food only for monks of Mt. Wutai, explaining, My intention in coming here far up to the mountain was merely to provide for the monks of the mountain and it was not my intention that all these worldly laymen and beggars should all come and receive my food. If such beggars are to be provided for, then maigre feast can be arranged in their native places. Why should I come all the way to this mountain [to feed them]?” ("%#$,‰•Z]|H¯%O]º#&!},'•(•)* +{×Ô,-,./ŠH|0]º•{)1,%2Š•ZÓ,34"Ô ‰•#). 20 When a pregnant woman at the maigre feast insisted on receiving a double portion, the patron angrily refused. The woman then transformed herself into the Bodhisattva Mañju&r* (jp:Monju ch:Wenshu ]Q)21 and abandoned the gathering, and the monks wept bitterly over their lost opportunity. So now, all receive an equal share, even babies, and “when people demand more than their share, they do not blame them, but give them all [they ask for] whatever it may be” (íg567*,8*9w,#7„šÚwÒ). This origin myth reveals some of the contours of the sacred character of Mt. Wutai. In addition to affirming the presence of the divine, the story emphasizes the equality of the practitioners. Even a layman or woman was capable of achieving salvation through practice on Mt. Wutai.22 From an outside perspective, it is a manifestation of the communitas and equality among participants that Victor Turner 20 840.7.2. Mt. Wutai was sacred as the home of Mañju&r*, a topic I cover in the chapter on sacred geography. 22 One reason for this emphasis on equality is that it is a manifestation of the doctrine of universal interpenetration of the Flower Garland sutra. Wei-cheng Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain: Buddhist Monastic Architecture in Mount Wutai During the Tang Dynasty 618-907” (PhD diss., University of Michigan, 2006). I discuss this at greater length in the chapter on sacred geography. 21 120 identifies as a key element of pilgrimage.23 This ideology of equality also helps to dissipate some of the tension between Buddhism’s position of renunciation of the world and the great wealth they had accumulated, especially at locations such as Mt. Wutai. Although there were many doctrinal reconciliations of this tension, for average laypeople, these kinds of stories were more accessible and effective.24 The performative, ritual aspect of the maigre feast on Wutai was also more elaborate. More buddhas and bodhisattvas were invoked in the chants and the entire ritual was more complex. The embellishment of the basic ritual conveyed the heightened spirituality of the sacred mountain, and is another example of the flexibility and broad application of this particular ritual, and thus its effectiveness as ritual technology. Here, ritual technology does not necessarily mean a new ritual tailored for each contingency, but instead a single ritual form that was reconfigured for a wide range of possible applications. The descriptions of maigre feasts in Ennin’s journal provide a good sense of the many possible uses of the ritual and the role it played in religious life of the Tang, enabling Ennin to transmit this information back to Japan. Ennin’s three complete transcriptions are different enough from each other that together they provide an overview of the different types and uses of this particular ritual technology. Furthermore, they are detailed enough to provide blueprints that would enable Ennin to reproduce these rituals in Japan. Ennin also brings home several documents relating to maigre feasts, 23 Victor Turner and Edith L. B. Turner, Image and Pilgrimage in Christian Culture (New York: Columbia University Press, 1978). Although it is important to keep in mind that actual inequalities still existed, particularly for women, the ideology of equality was still an important component of the pilgrimage tradition and for worship on Mt. Wutai. 24 For a discussion of this tension, or lack thereof, in Chinese Buddhist tradition, see John Kieschnick, The Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003), 2-9. 121 including two works that show how to write a maigre feast essay.25 Overall, Ennin’s record highlights the flexibility and usefulness of the maigre feast ritual and is detailed enough to suggest that reproducibility was among his goals. Esoteric Instruction and Ordinations Although the search for esoteric Buddhist credentials and materials were ostensibly Ennin’s primary purpose for traveling to China, they take up surprisingly little space in his journal. Ennin kept many notes about his copying and acquisition of texts, but these say nothing of his perspective on these texts and on esoteric ritual. Likewise, when Ennin notes in his journal the esoteric instruction and ordination he received these notes are brief and sometimes cryptic. Overall, the time Ennin spent in Changan studying esoteric Buddhism and receiving initiations is among the least well documented in the entire journal. There are several possible explanations for this paradox. The most likely is that the information was recorded in other places, such as the sutras and commentary he was copying and so he saw no need to be redundant. Perhaps the journal functioned as a place for information that was important but not recorded elsewhere. Although Ennin was very motivated to study, receive initiations, and bring back texts and ritual implements—enough to attempt to abandon the ship under uncertain circumstances—there is nothing in the journal that indicates that he views esoteric Buddhism as fundamentally different from any other form of ritual practice. In fact, as far as we can tell from the journal, he pays much closer attention to various non-esoteric rituals. It is only after he has received esoteric instruction in Changan, escaped the Huichang persecution, and returned to Japan, in short, after his journal is written, that he 25 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 287. 122 begins to formulate his own theory of how esoteric ritual fits into the more fundamental Tendai doctrinal scheme. In fact, the consensus view is that this process is fully completed only by Ennin’s disciple, Annen (-‘ 843-915?).26 Thus in most of the journal, although Ennin is collecting esoteric texts, his view of Buddhism and of ritual is unaffected by the esoteric Buddhist worldview. The traditional account is that Ennin traveled to China to remedy Saich#’s lack of esoteric knowledge and credentials and thus fully esotericize the Tendai sect.27 Although esoteric ritual eventually became a central component of the Tendai sect’s identity, we should not necessarily view the entire process as teleologically predetermined, inevitably leading to this point. Later Tendai monks have that tendency when they depict Ennin’s somewhat random wanderings as a carefully planned itinerary centered on the study of esoteric Buddhism.28 They also project later doctrinal formulations back onto this earlier, less doctrinally coherent time. The journal provides the main antidote to these readings, since it provides little support for them and much contradictory evidence. On the one hand, it is clear that Ennin is seeking after esoteric Buddhism, both from the anecdotes explaining why Ennin wanted to go to the Tang, and his own dreams recorded in his journal.29 On the other hand, Ennin seems primarily motivated by a 26 For an account of Annen’s life, see Paul Groner, “Annen, Tankei, Henj#, and Monastic Discipline in the Tendai School: The Background of the Futs! j!bosatsukai k"shaku,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 14, no. 2-3 (1987): 129-59. 27 Miyasaka Y!sh# x@AË and Takeuchi K#zen +ôBC, “Kaisetsu” ˆD, in Nihon mikky" no.3 DE ;p, ed. Miyasaka Y!sh# x@AË, Mikky# taikei series vol. 6 ;pLE (Ky#to: H#z#kan, ®F:ÚG «, 1995), 465. 28 For example, Kiuchi Gy## áôHI, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu ni tsuite” #$=Øjž;x•{‰, in Nihon mikky" no.3 DE;p, ed. Miyasaka Y!sh# x@AË, Mikky# taikei series vol. 6 ;pLE (Ky#to: H#z#kan ®F:ÚG«, 1995), 358-9. 29 Kiuchi, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu,” 349. 123 desire to finish his master’s incomplete business, rather than an intrinsic interest in esoteric Buddhism, since Ennin was not a student of esoteric Buddhism prior to traveling to the Tang. Ennin’s embassy came thirty years after the previous one, and so Ennin could not have had a very clear idea of the situation of continental Buddhism. This inability to plan beforehand meant that when Ennin was in China, his plans changed many times as he responded to forces beyond his control and took advantage of opportunities that presented themselves. Although I refer to this process of cultural transfer as “appropriation” in order to highlight the agency of the Heian actors, Ennin’s account reveals quite a bit of contingency as well. For example, Ennin was unable to travel to his original destination of Mt. Tientai and eventually changed it to Mt. Wutai for purely practical reasons. Also, while he was in the Tang, his entire project of legitimization via Chinese Buddhism was threatened by the unexpected Huichang persecution. In this section I will examine Ennin’s records of his esoteric instruction, which correspond with his time spent in Yangzhou, Mt. Wutai, and Changan, in order to determine how his journal treats this esoteric material. Yangzhou Ennin’s primary goal while in Yangzhou was to receive permission to travel to Mt. Tientai and gather texts, but while he was there, he received some esoteric instruction from Quanya (:;). Quanya came to Ennin’s rooms and arranged an altar to Ruyilun (jp:Nyoirin øJK).30 Assuming that Quanya also explained how this is done, this is the 30 839.2.5. One of the six manifestation of Kannon in esoteric Buddhism. 124 only ritual instruction in Yangzhou that Ennin recorded in his journal. Ennin also borrowed and copied several dozen scrolls of commentary and explanation (jp:giki Ø<) of the Diamond World mandala from Quanya.31 And appended to the end of the list of texts he sent home from Yangzhou, Ennin mentions that he also studied Sanskrit while there, although there is no mention of this in the journal itself.32 The lists of texts Ennin sent back from Yangzhou includes over half of the total esoteric material that he brought back.33 Thus, Ennin’s time in Yangzhou was primarily spent gathering esoteric texts.34 Later accounts embellish this record and claim that Ennin received the Diamond World (kong"kai ”Lw) mandala initiation from Quanya as well, as part of an attempt to systematize his contingent wandering into a meaningful, goal-guided process.35 Ironically, had Ennin’s travels proceeded according to his initial plans, he may never have received the esoteric training and initiations that he did in Changan. His original plan was to travel to Mt. Tientai and on to Changan, as time permitted, and then return with the embassy. Had he been able to travel to Mt. Tientai, he may have felt his mission complete and returned with the embassy to Japan, without ever traveling to Changan or Mt. Wutai. Having gathered some esoteric texts but not the oral instruction and prestigious initiations from the famous monks of Changan, Ennin would have been 31 839.IC.21. DDB, s.v. “Ø<.” “Ritual commentary. Although giki … may be translated as 'commentary,' in the Japanese esoteric tradition, it often refers not only to doctrinal exegeses or explanations, but to descriptions of ritual protocol. Giki form a sort of ritual appendix to s!tras, explaining how to set up implements for a ritual, how to perform a liturgy, etc. Many giki are themselves abbreviated, assuming a complementary oral transmission.” 32 Mabuchi Kazuo MNT-, “Ennin to shittan” #$:øù, Ars Buddhica (Bukky# geijutsu) OpPâ 300 (2008): 36. 33 Kiuchi, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu,” 359. 34 For example, he has Taiz#kai mandala drawn. 839.3.3. 35 Kiuchi, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu,” 358-9. 125 left in a similar situation as Saich#; he would not have known what he was missing. Also, the long travel from Mt. Chi to Wutai and then to Changan undoubtedly increased his fluency in spoken Chinese and made him better able to understand the oral initiations and instruction when he received them. Mt. Wutai Although many scholars describe Mt. Wutai as a prominent source for Ennin’s esoteric Buddhism, his journal does not support this claim.36 The Jikaku Daishi den (¶ ·L¸ž Account of the Great Master Jikaku (Ennin)), written many years after the fact, claims that Ennin declined to go to the capital with the embassy because he wanted to go to Mt. Wutai to seek out the fullest esoteric and exoteric aspects of the law.37 In contradiction to this, as the journal makes clear, Ennin was not allowed to travel to Changan initially and ended up at Mt. Wutai by accident. Furthermore, most of his esoteric instruction took place in Changan, when he eventually got there, rather than at Mt. Wutai.38 Although Mt. Wutai was a center for esoteric Buddhism, Ennin’s journal does not record him receiving any esoteric ordinations or instruction there or even asking for them. Instead, Ennin treats Mt. Wutai as a stand in for Mt. Tientai. When he explains his rationale for changing his mind and deciding to travel to Mt. Wutai instead of to Mt. Tientai, Ennin describes Mt. Wutai in Tendai terms, and lists the Tendai masters who 36 Aramaki Junry! lQRS, “Ennin no Godaisan juh# ni tsuite” #$=И´TÚx•{‰ , Tendai gakuh" ,µ(È 40 (1998): 60-7. Aramaki makes his case using many later sources. Although I agree with many of his points, overall I see Ennin and his disciples developing the role of Mt. Wutai retrospectively, in some cases, much later. Matsunaga (1987) argues that Ennin is able to bring back esoteric rituals that Saich# did not because Ennin went to Mt. Wutai where Amoghavajra had lived. Quoted in Ronald S. Green, “K!kai, Founder of Japanese Shingon Buddhism: Portrait of His Life” (PhD diss., University of Wisconsin Madison, 2003), 163-4. 37 Sait# Enshin trans., Jikak! Daishi Den: The Biography of Jikaku Daishi Ennin (Tokyo: Sankib# Busshorin, 1992). 38 Kiuchi, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu,” 355. 126 were practicing there. 39 When he arrived in Mt. Wutai, Ennin requested that the Tientai monks there answer the list of doctrinal questions he brought from the head of the Tendai sect in Japan. They refused because Ensai (#à d. 877), the Tendai student monk who came to the Tang with Ennin, had already received a set of answers from the monks on Mt. Tientai. Ennin’s two disciples, Ish# (Æš) and Igy# (ÆU), were both ordained as monks on Mt. Wutai.40 Throughout his stay, Ennin emphasized the presence of a Tientai establishment on the mountain, but seemed blind to the importance of esoteric Buddhism in structuring the worship and perception of the mountain.41 For example, when Ennin met with the Tendai monks at Mt. Wutai, they talked about Saich# and Ennin told them the story of Tendai patriarch Nanyue (VW) being reborn in Japan. Ennin saw the hokke zanmai (Ú¾ÓX) ritual. And, when he visited the Jinge monastery (”Y±), he was apparently unaware that the statues there were arranged according to groupings in the Diamond World mandala. In retrospect, Ennin’s experiences on Mt. Wutai did become an important part of the development and esotericization of Mt. Hiei. As we will see in the subsequent chapter on sacred geography, after his return, Ennin set in motion the development of Mt. Hiei modeled upon Mt. Wutai. He initiated the construction of several important buildings based on those on Mt. Wutai and developed rituals that he saw performed there. However, the most important of these, the j"gy" sanmai (éÇÓX), is not an esoteric rite, but a Tendai one, although it provided the impetus for the development of the 39 839.7.23. 840.5.14. 41 For example, 840.5.16. See also, Kiuchi, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu,” 360. 40 127 esoteric kaih"gy" (ÀÁÇ).42 When we speak of the esotericization of Japanese Buddhism, it is not so much a whole-scale replacement of the old Buddhism with new ritual forms, but a reframing of the original that adds another layer of meaning and complexity. Although Ennin did not perceive the esoteric nature of Mt. Wutai at the time, after he learned more about esoteric Buddhism, he was able to redefine his experiences on Mt. Wutai and use them to guide his reframing of Mt. Hiei and the Tendai sect. Also, as one response to Ennin’s journal, later Tendai monks also traveled to Mt. Wutai and its influence on Tendai esotericism continued in this way. Changan When Ennin arrived in Changan he began to seek out esoteric instruction and initiations, demonstrating that studying esoteric Buddhism was among his goals.43 Soon after he arrived in Changan, Ennin prayed that he would be able to find teachers to teach him the law. He arrived in Changan on 840.8.23 and began his search on 840.9.5. The days in between were occupied with official business and letters to various officials. The next day, a monk came to visit and told Ennin about the masters of esoteric Buddhism at each monastery and their areas of specialty. Over the next several days, Ennin sent his disciples to visit each monastery to gather additional information.44 They are all described as being adept, or skilled (¦Z[*) in esoteric ritual, which would seem to refer to technical skills, supporting a view of ritual as technology. 42 I discuss both of these practices at greater length in the chapter on sacred geography. The j"gy" sanmai (samadhi of continual walking) is a canonical Tendai ritual that involves circling a statue of Kannon while chanting continuously for ninety days. The kaih"gy" (practice of circling the mountain) is often explained as an extension of this practice and it involves ritual circumambulation of Mt. Hiei for periods of 100-1000 days, over a period of 1-7 years. 43 Kiuchi, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu,” 360. 44 840.9.5-7. 128 Eventually Ennin studied with most of these monks.45 At the Daxingshan monastery (LIC±), where Ennin stayed briefly after his arrival, were Wenwu (]\) and Yuanzheng (]·). Both were masters of the Diamond World mandala, but Wenwu was not up to the standard of Yuanzheng (ôŸ^·_`a).46 There was also a monk from the Western countries, Nanda, but he did not speak much Chinese (ôŠˆjb). Ennin decided to study with Yuanzheng. On 840.10.17, Ennin sent a formal letter to Yuanzheng asking to borrow the Methods of Reciting Religious Formulae, an esoteric manual, and to be his disciple. 47 He also recounts a dream he had on Mt. Chi, where he bought a set of scales and was told, “‘These are the scale on which is weighed the weight of the three thousand myriad worlds,’ upon hearing which I greatly rejoiced.” (ÌߘcdÓ³L³vweÓ dc/ÐËË‚ïbfA).48 Here, he rejoices in his new ability to weigh the worlds, or to differentiate between the various forms of Buddhism. Although he had this dream at Mt. Chi, it is only in Changan as he was beginning his study of esoteric Buddhism that he realized what the dream might mean and how it would be fulfilled. The Jikaku Daishi den elaborates on this dream at Mt. Chi, but has him realize its significance at Mt. Chi, reworking the narrative to emphasize esoteric Buddhism from the beginning. Twelve days later on 840.10.29, Ennin visited Yuanzheng again to receive his first instruction in the Diamond World mandala and be ordained, beginning his formal study of esoteric Buddhism. In the ordination hall, pictures of Vajrabodhi (ch:Jingangzhi 45 All except for Farun (Úg) of the Qinglong monastery (=`>), because Ennin’s disciples report that he is 73 years old and senile. 46 840.10.16. 47 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 306 48 840.10.17. 129 ”Lh) and Amoghavajra (ch:Bukong ô!), the two foreign monks responsible for developing esoteric Buddhism in the Tang, were painted on the walls and to the south was a stupa containing Amoghavajara’s relics; Yuanzheng was of Amoghavajra’s lineage. This whole passage establishes the legitimacy of the initiation by connecting it to the most prestigious sources of esoteric Buddhism. Later, Ennin records a dream where Saich# rejoiced when Ennin showed him a Diamond World mandala he drew. Ennin’s ability to draw this complex mandala on his own shows his mastery of it, thus fulfilling his purpose in coming and accomplishing his master’s wishes. Ennin’s total instruction time for the Diamond World mandala and the copying was about six months and is recorded as follows. He began on 840.10.29. On 840.12.22, Ennin had four copies of Diamond World mandala begun, and on 841.2.13, Ennin received another ordination and was told that his instruction in the Diamond World mandala was complete (,’“?!@ò). Having finished this section, he then arranged for the drawing of Womb World mandala scroll. Although there are no details about his instruction in the journal, Ennin continued to receive instruction from Yuanzheng until 841.4.28, when he records the following: I finished copying the newly translated scriptures of the [Da]xingshansi, and the Methods of Reciting Religious Formula. Monk [Yuanzheng] said to me, ‘I have told all that I understand about the Great Law of the Kong#kai [Diamond World mandala], and you have copied down all these practices. If there is anything further you lack, you should seek it elsewhere.’ (Aæ>œBY ,…b@{,CDE1±Fü|vðGHIJ K’“?!@×LMü,–@N{×Fü,4í*O¯,»•PQ|R). This length of time is significant when we compare it to Saich#’s total time of nine months in the Tang. Mastery of esoteric rituals was a time-consuming process, as was the drawing and painting of the elaborate esoteric mandala. Ennin was in Changan long 130 enough to make significant progress towards his goals of mastering these new forms of Buddhism, and when he received certification from a prestigious teacher that he had completed this course of study and he recorded that affirmation in his journal. As he finished studying the Diamond World mandala with Yuanzheng, Ennin started to shift his attention to the Womb World mandala and Susiddhi mandala (Soshitsuji iø’). First, he had five copies of the mandala drawn, and then he sent a series of letters to Yizhen (ST) of the Qinglong monastery (j ±).49 From the letters, it seems that Ennin had already met Yizhen. The letters thank Yizhen for allowing Ennin to copy the mandala, and for donations provided by one of Yizhen’s disciples to help cover the cost of the copying.50 Ennin also began copying the Nine-group (jp:kue kl) Diamond World mandala on 841.5.3. On the same day, Ennin received initiation51 and instruction in the Womb World, the Great Law of Mah'vairocana sutra (jp:Birushana ky" mnopq) and the Susiddhi (Soshitsuji iø’). He does not actually state in the journal that Yizhen performed these initiations, but it makes sense from the context and from other sources, such as the Jikaku Daishi den, and Secret Record of the 13 Ordinations (U2VWXWX).52 Together these three mandala constitute the three-fold 49 841.4.28. Engy#, the Shingon monk who had traveled to Changan with the embassy two years earlier had also studied with Yizhen, but only for fifteen days and “he did not receive [instruction in] the principles of the Kong#kai”. 839.2.25. This entry from much earlier shows that Ennin is interested in receiving instruction in both mandalas and also reveals a spirit of competition with the Shingon monk. 50 841.4.28-841.5.1. 51 The journal does not specify which initiation he received, but since it involved casting a flower onto a diagram, Reischauer notes it may be related to the Kechien initiation (rstu). Reischauer, Ennin’s Diary, 308n1169. 52 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 396. 131 esoteric system (2å!@) that Ennin introduced to Japan and promulgated as a more advanced form of esotericism than the Shingon sect’s.53 Next Ennin studied with Faquan (@:) of the Xuanfa monastery (Y@>), who was an additional source for instruction in the three-fold system.54 On 842.2.29, Ennin began to receive additional instruction in the Womb World mandala from him. Two weeks later, on 842.3.12, Faquan gave Ennin six scrolls, the Commentary on the Womb World [mandala] (Taiz" giki LvØ<), Besson-h" ((ÄÚ),55 and Womb World mudras. The Sansenin-bon Jikaku Daishi den (2Z´Š) gives a significantly expanded version of this interaction in which Ennin receives an initiation from Faquan, but there is no evidence for this in either the journal or the earlier Jikaku Daishi den.56 Later commentators significantly elaborated and expanded upon these passages, emphasizing the role of esoteric Buddhism in the journal as whole. In particular, they systematized Ennin’s initiations and instruction, adding initiations when necessary, when in fact the process seems quite random.57 The later imagination of the smooth appropriation of Chinese culture contrasts with the messier reality. Ennin certainly had 53 Ono explores several possibilities in a lengthy note. Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 396-8n. Miyazaka states that Ennin began to theorize the relationship between esotericic Buddhism and the Lotus sutra, and develop Tendai esoteric rituals to compete with the Shingon ritual program. Enchin then built on Ennin’s developments and the system was completed by Ennin’s disciple Annen. Miyazaka, “Kaisetsu,” 465, 478. Green states that the pairing of the Diamond and Womb World mandalas as well as the specific structure of the mandalas is unique to China. Green, “K!kai: Portrait of His Life,” 136-7. For Ennin’s role in developing the Susiddhi mandala see, Higashifujimi Jik# ?²û¶w, “Soshitsuji to kanren ky#ten ni okeru j#ju h# no ikk#satsu—toku ni Ennin o ch!sshin ni shite” iø’:xyqÄxö‘•ÂzÚ=q _{, Tendai gakuh" ,µ(È 42 (1999): 137-141. 54 As mentioned in Ennin’s disciple’s initial report on 840.9.5-7. 55 See “Esoteric rites dedicated to particular deities,” Japanese Architecture and Art Net Users System < http://www.aisf.or.jp/~jaanus/deta/b/bessonmandara.htm> 56 Kiuchi, “Ennin no nitt# denmitsu,” 363. 57 Kiuchi, “Ennin ni nitt# denmitsu,” 363. In the Jikaku Daishi den, Ennin receives initiations from Quanya, Yuanzheng, Yizhen, and Faquan. In contrast, in his journal he only records receiving the Diamond World mandala from Yuanzheng, and the Womb World and or the Sussidi initiation from Yizhen. The Jikaku Daishi den also emphasizes that Ennin received both initiations for the first time in China, rather than from K!kai. 132 an agenda that included esoteric Buddhism, but he also was forced to navigate the Chinese bureaucracy and inclement weather off the coast and some of his choices were clearly made to cope with these immediate contingencies. Tendai Chanting One aspect of ritual performance that Ennin paid particular attention to was chanting. In addition to being the founder of Tendai esotericism, Ennin is known as the founder of Tendai chanting.58 Even before he went to China, Ennin seems to have had an affinity for chanting.59 Ennin’s inauguration of a formal tradition of sutra recitation was a core component of his introduction of esoteric Buddhism. In some respects, this is problematic, since chanting is a foundational Buddhist practice and existed in Japan long before Ennin.60 Ennin’s frequent comparisons of Tang and Heian chanting point to an already existing tradition. Still, much as the introduction of esoteric ideas complemented and reframed existing ritual practice; Ennin’s importation of various texts on chanting and Sanskrit refined and recontextualized existing chanting practice to such an extent that he can be considered a founder in this sense.61 58 Ogi Mitsuo |ë}-, Kodai ongaku no sekai O\>~=vw (K#shi Shoin •€fÅ, 2005), 145,7. Fujii Hikaru ••w, “Ennin sh#ron—toku ni sono nenbutsu o megutte” #$aù:’x…=‚O†" #$‰, Ky!sh! shigaku kÂG( 7 (1958): 26. 60 See Sait# Enshin Ï•ƒn, “Jikaku Daishi sh#rai no sh#my# ni kansuru ikk#satsu” ¶·L¸ƒ„=„ …x†‡•q_{ , Tendai gakuh" ,µ(È 25 (1982): 169-71. Even though these commonly performed Tendai rituals existed in China and Japan prior to Ennin, Miyazaka argues that Ennin is considered the founder because of his connection with music and with Mt. Wutai. Miyazaka, “Kaisetsu,” 485. 61 In general, esoteric Buddhism also had a significant impact on the development of Heian theories of music. For example, different sounds became associated with each of the cardinal directions and seasons. Ogi Mitsuo, Kodai ongaku no sekai, 155-6. 59 133 Chanting is a central element of many Buddhist rituals and of esoteric ritual in particular.62 Although ritual movements and gestures are also important, these are usually accompanied by chanting and other music. The significance of chanting is very closely tied to the significance of the written sutra text, whether read or recited from memory. Chanting is a way to ritually embody the veneration of the text that characterizes Mahayana Buddhism.63 Chanting and musical performance before a deity can also be considered a kind of offering, like material, or incense, or light, with attendant spiritual benefits, such as overcoming worldly attachments. Although banned in the monastic laws, musical instruments and instrumental performance were an important aspect of Buddhist paradise imagery, such as of Amida’s (sk: Amit'bha _ˆ ‰) Pure Land.64 K!kai’s conceptualization of esoteric Buddhism, which was gradually adopted by the various Japanese sects, developed a rationale for chanting that goes beyond earlier formulations.65 The esoteric concept of ritual as a process for the embodiment of truth makes its physical aspects, chanted mantras and gestured mudras especially significant.66 In its fullest elaboration by K!kai, esoteric Buddhism divides ritual into three parts, the mantra, mudra, and mandala, corresponding to the voice, the hand, and the eye, or the aural, physical, and visual aspect. Combined in ritual, they form the vehicle through which it is possible to integrate the phenomenal and the ideal world and realize 62 For a brief history of chanting in China, see Minowa Kenry# ŠK‹:, “Ch!goku ni okeru k#ky# to sh#d#” ;<xö‘•Ñq:Œ• , Higashi Ajia bukky" kenky! ?@A@OpÞß 1 (2003): 17-30. 63 Charlotte Eubanks, “The Musical Shuttle: Sutra Recitation in the Arts of Medieval Japan,” (paper presentated at the annual meeting of the Association of Asian Studies, Chicago, March 2009). 64 Ogi, Kodai ongaku no sekai, 149. 65 Abe, Weaving of Mantra, 159-176. 66 This line of thinking is probably developed more fully by K!kai in the Shingon tradition. Abe, Weaving of Mantra. However, because of Ennin’s early attention to the specifics of chanting, the Tendai tradition is felt to be the older and more complicated. See Jackson Hill, “Ritual Music in Japanese Esoteric Buddhism: Shingon Sh#my#,” Ethnomusicology 26, no. 1 (1982): 33-4. 134 Buddhahood in this very body. Of the three, chanting is the most elusive. Mandala maybe transported and stored, as can ritual implements. Mudras can be easily drawn in ritual manuals.67 But proper pronunciation and chanting technique were notoriously difficult to transmit correctly. They needed to be taught in person and so were well suited to the direct transmission model of esoteric Buddhism. Ennin’s focus on chanting and pronunciation is consistent with his efforts to legitimize the Tendai sect and establish valuable cultural capital based on his experience on the continent. In his extended records of the maigre feasts, Ennin praises the quality of the chanting. Of the first he notes, “the sounds and phrases were exceedingly marvelous” (音 韻 妙)68 and of the second, “the blending of the chanting from the East and West were exceedingly marvelous” (此頃、東西梵音、交響 妙).69 Ennin’s praise speaks to mysterious, ineffable, and even transformative quality of the chanting, as well as the technical skill required to produce it. He affirms the view of culture as technology as well as its effectiveness. Ennin even took notes of the Sillan chanting, recording not only what was chanted, but also the manner, such as, “the congregation called on the Buddha’s name, dragging it out” (!![EC\µ]^_) and “this so-called chanting of a scripture was drawn out, his voice quavering a great deal” (J`âY^_,E7íab), and “after the intoning of the scriptures, the headings were chanted in short syllables” (âYü,4cEâd e).70 Ennin’s attention to these kinds of minute detail, in spite of his reservations about 67 For example, the text Ennin received on 842.3.12. 838.11.24. (Translation mine). 69 838.12.8. (Translation mine). 70 839.11.22. 68 135 Sillan ritual practice, suggests his affinity for this form of practice as form of reproducible cultural technology.71 Although Ennin may not have fully understood the intricacies of esoteric doctrine from his arrival in China, he clearly understood the importance of ritual practice in the esoteric model and focused more on ritual practice than his more textually oriented predecessors. Furthermore, Ennin introduced new ritual forms in which chanting is a central component, such as the j"gy" sanmai, which were continued by his disciples and had a profound impact on Tendai and on the development of Japanese Buddhism.72 In addition to his journal, Ennin brings several manuals for Buddhist chanting back to Japan and notes about the pronunciation of Sanskrit.73 Ennin’s focus on the mechanical and functional aspects of ritual reveals an implicit understanding of ritual as cultural technology. Sanskrit As a component of his study of esoteric ritual and chanting, Ennin also studied Sanskrit and brought back many Sanskrit texts. However, Ennin’s purpose in studying Sanskrit was not to learn to understand semantic content, or communicate in the language. Kobayashi Akemi states that if this was the case, the “the thousand-year long Japanese 71 Even in the prior quotation Ennin refers to the “so-called chanting” suggesting he has doubts about its normative status. 72 For example, S## (LŽ), one of Ennin’s disciples, was one of the developers of sh"my" („…) with his fudan nenbutsu (ô•‚H) and he was also the first to do the fudan nenbutsu in the j"gy" sanmai hall (é Ç•), which is often cited as foundational in the development of Japanese Pure Land Buddhism. Ogi, Kodai ongaku no sekai, 146-7. 73 For a chart showing the various kinds and amount of texts for chanting Ennin brought back in comparison with other monks who went to China, see Sait#, “Jikaku Daishi sh#rai no sh#my#,” 172. 136 Siddham tradition was a magnificent waste.”74 She further explains that, “for esoteric monks, Indian characters were not considered a way to represent human speech, but merely a tool for casting spells.”75 Japanese monks were interested in Sanskrit characters and their pronunciation, but not in understanding them as a language system. Ennin’s study of Sanskrit in Changan supports this conclusion. On the same day he began studying with Faquan, 842.2.29, Ennin also notes he is studying Sanskrit with Yuanjian (]‘) of the Da’anguo monastery (L’W±), who was skilled in the Diamond World mandala and in writing Sanskrit. This combination of skills suggests that some level of Sanskrit was considered an important component in esoteric Buddhism. K!kai studied Sanskrit and made a strong case for the importance of Sanskrit in esoteric Buddhism.76 Ennin seems to have primarily emphasized learning the correct pronunciation for incantations and spells. Several months later, on 842.5.16, Ennin “again studied Sanskrit letters at the place of Ratnacandra, the Indian learned doctor, at the Qinglongsi, and personally learned from his mouth the correct sounds” (f =`>ãg2·hDJ,Vijk,lB,mE). This also corresponds with Ennin’s notes on Sanskrit pronunciation entitled the Zait"ki (•¢n).77 Of the texts he brought 74 Kobayashi argues that even K!kai’s knowledge of Sanskrit was superficial, and that the real study of Sanskrit in Japan begins in the 19th century. Kobayashi Akemi a9…ë, “Ennin no Indo moji gakush! kiroku” #$=“þ”]ÿ(KÝÔ , Kokubungaku: kaishaku to kansh" <](:ˆ•:–— 53, no. 1 (1988): 52. 75 Kobayashi, “Ennin no Indo moji,” 53. 76 Abe, Weaving of Mantra, 118-9; Green, “K!kai: Portrait of His Life,” 119. For an example of K!kai’s use of Sanskrit in his doctrinal work, see Hakeda, K!kai: Major Works, 236; and Green, “K!kai: Portrait of His Life,” 237-66. 77 Takeuchi Nobuo úô,-, “Y#sh! oyobi Choan in okeru Ennin no Shittan gakush!: toku ni h#getsu ‘shittan jimo’ ni tsuite” ÀÂöŒ÷Ã-xö‘•#$=øù(K --’xúØÌûüýþÿ!І" #$‰, Hikaku bunka kenky! ²%]íÞß 33 (1994):1-146. The Zait"ki is a very short work of 30 lines found in another source. 137 back, although there are a few sutras, the majority are hymns (san o), spells (‰Ï˜ dharani), and mantras (shingon nØ), all of which were intended for oral performance. Ennin’s notes of his study of Sanskrit support the view that the Japanese study of Sanskrit was primarily concerned with ritual performance, as opposed to semantic content. Ennin’s notes on Sanskrit are concerned exclusively with pronunciation. In order to transcribe the correct sounds, he created a system of representation using Chinese characters, which differentiates between the actual Sanskrit sounds taught by a native teacher and the Tang approximations.78 Unfortunately, the complexity of his system to represent Sanskrit sounds using Chinese characters, as well as the requirement that one know spoken Chinese, meant that the careful distinctions that Ennin made were glossed over by the later Tendai systematizer Annen (-‘), who merely represented everything in Japanese sounds.79 In addition to the notes, Ennin brought back 121 Sanskrit texts, significantly more than any other Japanese monk.80 This suggests that Ennin saw his study of Sanskrit as a major component of his esoteric studies and as a response to the Shingon monopoly on Sanskrit learning.81 Almost all of the Sanskrit texts Ennin brought home were hymns, spells, and mantras; all texts meant to be recited orally, as opposed to doctrinal expositions or commentary, which would require a working knowledge of Sanskrit to understand.82 78 Moriyama Takashi ™´S, “Zait"ki bonjich! no k#sei to sono kaishaku” SjÝšÿ›=¾Â:…= ˆœ, Kokugo kokubun <b<] 29, no. 10 (1960): 17-28; and Takeuchi, “Ennin no Shittan gakush!,” 130. 79 Takeuchi, “Ennin no Shittan gakush!,” 130. 80 Next is K!kai with 39, then Saich# 11, and no one else with more than five. Takeuchi, “Ennin no Shittan gakushu,” 4. 81 Mabuchi Kazuo, “Ennin to shittan,” 35. 82 See note 72 for a list of chanting texts. For a complete list, see Zhou, Rutang qiufa, 522-60. 138 Ennin’s study of Sanskrit should also be understood as a part of his interest in chanting, rather than as an independent branch of knowledge; in his journal, every use of the character bon (p Sanskrit) is in the context of chanting, or of studying Sanskrit in Changan.83 Although Reischauer translates each instance of bon (p) as Sanskrit, this is probably not warranted. As Ono points out in a long note on the subject, although the term originally referred to chanting in Sanskrit, by the Tang, it had come to have the wider meaning of just chanting or chanting in an Indian manner.84 Also, since the chants described as sakubon (qp) were some of the most commonly chanted sutras and were transcribed by Ennin in Chinese characters, it is unlikely they were actually chanted in Sanskrit.85 On the other hand, almost all of the major Buddhist rituals in Ennin’s journal include “Indian style” chanting as an important element. Chants could be written in Literary Sinitic or Sanskrit, and performed in either, or a vernacular language, such as Sillan or Japanese. Ennin’s efforts to master Sanskrit pronunciation suggest that he saw this ability as integral to the prestige and efficacy of the new esoteric rituals. In the Eminent Monk: Buddhist Ideals in Medieval Chinese Hagiography, John Kieschnick connects the foreignness of a monk or language with thaumaturgical power: In general these abilities were linked to the perceived alien character of the monk. This point is particularly evident in the case of spells, in that in the early biographies monks reputed to have mastered spells were almost always foreigners. Later the thaumaturge was often associated with enigmatic foreign texts or the ability to recite foreign words.86 83 For a history of the use of the term “š•” in Japan, see Amano Kyuwa ,ž¦T, “‘Bonbai’ ni tsuite no ikk#satsu” š•x•{‰=q_{ , Tendai gakuh" ,µ(È 32 (1989):104-8. 84 Ono, Junrei k"ki no kenky!, 288. 85 In addition to sakubon (qp), other commonly used terms are bonbai (pç), bonon (pE), bonsan (p r), or just bon (p). Specialists are referred to as bononshi (pEÌ), or sakubonshi (qpÌ). 86 John Kieschnick, The Eminent Monk: Buddhist Ideals in Medieval Chinese Hagiography (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 1997), 110. 139 In the early history of Buddhism in both China and Japan, foreigners played a key role in promulgating Buddhism and many of the monks were foreign. Although this changed over time, to some extent, all monks acquired this aura of foreignness because of their distinctive lifestyles. In Japan, the experience of having traveled to China, visited sacred sites, and received initiations enhanced this aura. Similarly, chanting in foreign languages such as Chinese and even more so Sanskrit would have heightened the spirituality and efficacy of the spell or ritual. Conclusion Overall, Ennin’s accounts of Buddhist ritual are very similar in purpose to his records of non-Buddhist ritual in terms of his emphasis on the similarities between continental and Heian forms and on the details of ritual performance. In his accounts of the maigre feasts, which are Ennin’s most extensive descriptions of rituals in the journal, we get a more detailed and broadened view of the paradigm of ritual as cultural technology in actual practice. Ennin’s emphasis is on the practical and technical aspects of the ritual and on its functional range. In contrast, Ennin’s study of esoteric Buddhism does not play a very large role in the journal, despite the fact that it stretches over several years. Instead, the bulk of Ennin’s esoteric material is found in the commentaries, sutras, and mandala that he copied, as well as other, more limited sources, such as the Zait"ki and Record of Ordinations.87 In respect to esoteric Buddhism, the journal is more supplementary, putting these events in the context of his overall journey, his records of other rituals and festivals, and even the material and economic aspects of these 87 Ono lists some of the ritual manuals Ennin returns with as well as some that Ennin authored later. Ono Katsutoshi, “T# no Bukky# girei,” 206-8. 140 transactions. In addition to the other sources, these kind of concrete details serve as a witness to the validity of Ennin’s transmissions. His journal also reveals how the process of acquiring esoteric knowledge was cumulative. Ennin did not have much of a workable framework for this new knowledge until he had time to think over how it could be integrated with existing Tendai thought. Rather than offering a doctrinal synthesis,88 the focus of his records in the Tang was on concrete aspects of esoteric practice, such as gathering texts and ritual implements, receiving ordinations, and the details of ritual performance. In a way that is not possible if one focuses exclusively on his copied texts, from the journal we can see Ennin’s attentiveness to the performance and practice of a whole range of ritual forms. The dual focus on performance and material aspects of ritual both support the idea of ritual as cultural technology. The same is true of Ennin’s approach to Tang and Sillan chanting practices. In particular, Ennin’s emphasis on chanting and Sanskrit pronunciation shows a concern for the correct execution of the technical specifics of ritual performance. Although he occasionally comments on the aural or visual beauty of the ritual, this too, in a sense, is a testimony of its effectiveness. The significance of ritual performance in esoteric Buddhism complements and expands Ennin’s existing view of ritual as cultural technology. Later Tendai thinkers will fully incorporate these new ritual practices and rationale into the Tendai ritual program. Like the previous chapter, this chapter contributes to the work among scholars of East Asian religion that emphasizes ritual and material practices over doctrinal formulations. In Ennin’s study of Sanskrit, we also see how religious exchange between states was connected to differentials of prestige and legitimacy. Sanskrit’s ritual power 88 Although Ennin is revered for his role in bringing back so much esoteric material and rituals, it was really his disciple Annen who finally integrated it into Tendai thought. After Annen, monks worked on actualizing the practice, without developing the rationale. See Miyazaka, “Kaisetsu,” 477. 141 and efficaciousness was intricately connected to its foreignness. Its doctrinal illegibility not only did not detract from this prestige and effectiveness, it probably enhanced it. Here, the perception of certain religious practices as foreign could be an asset.89 The same is true of cultural practices. As we consider East Asian cultural and religious exchange more broadly, we need to also consider how individuals and institutions articulated these practices as foreign versus domestic and how those articulations functioned within the cultural and religious field. 89 As we will see in the Huichang persecution of Buddhism, it was also potentially a liability. 142 Chapter 4. Addressing Authority: Correspondence with the Tang Bureaucracy Much of Ennin’s record is devoted to his interaction and correspondence with the Tang bureaucracy. The primary purpose of this information was practical. Ennin’s journal functioned as a running account of his important documents, travel permits, donations received, and people encountered. In addition to its practical uses during his travels, such a record could also serve as a reference for future Japanese Buddhist monks navigating the Tang bureaucracy. Furthermore, Ennin belonged to a society that believed that governmental structure is not arbitrary, but it replicates and participates in the natural order of the cosmos.1 Understanding these records as a selection of necessary, but otherwise irrelevant communications misses the point.2 Just as the imperial system provided a frame for the religious institutions of the Tang, the bureaucratic documentation provides a frame for the rest of Ennin’s narrative. Ennin’s interest in the bureaucratic working of the Tang should be understood within this intellectual framework and as connected to his Buddhist mission. Information about the Tang bureaucracy was also another form of cultural technology that Ennin imported to Japan through his journal. As a monk, Ennin was committed to the Buddhist model of the cosmos, but he had not necessarily theorized its exact relationship to the Heian and Tang imperial systems and ideologies. As I have shown, there is also a strong tradition of Buddhist monks as transmitters of continental culture to Japan—including political ideas and 1 While I doubt there are any premodern societies that feel their culture and social organization are totally arbitrary and unconnected to nature, Chinese civilization is rare in that it is a technologically advanced civilization that persistently maintained sophisticated theories about the relationship of their civilization to nature and natural patterns. 2 From a modern viewpoint, bureaucracy has many negative connotations of inefficiency, irrelevance, pointlessness, etc. It seems worthwhile to point out that such was emphatically not the case in East Asia. 143 technologies—whose transmissions were not necessarily resituated in a Buddhist framework. Ennin’s many comments on general bureaucratic methods and rituals unrelated to Buddhism suggest that he saw himself at least partially in this tradition. Ennin’s information on the Tang bureaucracy can be divided into four categories: first, practical information about titles and regalia; second, descriptions of government rituals; third, letters to and from officials; and fourth conflict and reconciliation of Buddhist and imperial worldview, in particular, during the Huichang persecution. The first category covers a variety of practical information such as titles, regalia, and taboo names. Ennin paid attention to the titles of the officials and copied these into his record, including information about colors they wore or other badges of status. Ennin also wrote down details that he needed to remember, such as the taboo characters of the emperor and officials whose territory he travels through. This kind of information was both practical and necessary for traveling through the Tang, and it also contributed to Ennin’s understanding of the Tang government and its cosmically sanctioned hierarchy. The second category includes Ennin’s records of government rituals. As a ritual specialist, Ennin was not only interested in Buddhist ritual but also in the rituals of the Tang government. Since the Heian court was the primary source of support for Buddhist monasteries in Japan, advancing one’s sect meant making one’s ritual program appealing to the court. Ennin’s interest in Tang governmental rituals makes sense in this context. In the third section, I address Ennin’s copies of letters to and from officials. The sheer number of the letters and their proportion to the total journal suggests their importance to Ennin in the overall scheme of the journal. These letters to and from officials create a vivid sense of how the Tang bureaucracy functioned at its lowest levels. 144 Ennin’s attention to the letter writing formats of the Tang is evidence of their importance in the Heian court and reflects a shared view of a particular relationship between language, social hierarchy, and political order. The final section explores the relationship between Buddhism and the imperial ideology in Ennin’s record. Although Ennin for the most part accepts the imperial conceptualization of Buddhism, occasionally the two systems conflict and Ennin must somehow reconcile this conflict. In particular, Ennin’s records of the Huichang persecution bring this conflict into sharp relief. In the face of this challenge, Ennin repeatedly confirms the compatibility of the Buddhist and imperial systems. Ennin’s Records of Bureaucratic Details and Protocol Throughout his journal, Ennin records various types of practical information that would be of use as he navigated the Tang bureaucracy, including names and ranks of officials, details of dress and regalia, and taboo names. In addition to its practical uses, this information also revealed the cosmically sanctioned structure of the Tang bureaucracy, which would have been of interest to Heian officials constructing a similar system. In one of his first encounters with Chinese officials, Ennin carefully noted the names, ranks, and dress of the officials.3 In a similar entry two weeks later, he wrote, “The officials of the sub-prefecture are a Chief Official, an Administrative Officer, and a commissioner of troop, and others, in all seven men. I have not yet ascertained their ranks” (ŸÇ{q„Ã{qq„ 3 4 {qq„¡MFžà»¢q„wßB£).4 The last 838.7.9. 838.7.23. 145 comment makes it is clear that Ennin was making a special effort to find out the titles and ranks of the Tang officials. Although this information seems incidental, to Ennin it was an important part of deciphering the cosmologically sanctioned structure of the Tang imperial system. In Yangzhou (ÀÂ), when the Minister of State (L0) visited the monastery where Ennin was staying, Ennin was awed by the size and lavishness of his retinue: I estimated that he had around him in attendance about two hundred foot soldiers and over forty police guards. At the gate were eighty-odd cavalry. All were dressed in purple garments. He also had attendant civil officials, all of whom were dressed in watery green-blue. They were all mounted, presenting a scene not easily described. (4Ž¤¥L»0¦§1/ü„ ¨©dq1»ª„嫬M¦20¸Z„á¦-®‹‚ø»L»]{ ž„à-¯£„£¬M„°ô5Ý).5 All together there are over three hundred attendants with close to a hundred on horseback, and all wearing coordinated colors. The Tang government was much larger than the Heian and capable of much greater expenditures. The Tang wealth and organization—in sum, their success as a state—implicitly confirms their worthiness of emulation. Ten days later, the Minister of State returned to the monastery with the same retinue and Ennin recorded more specific information: There were the Minister of State and his attendants from the Senior Secretaries down to the Administrative Officers, eight men in all. The Minister of State wore purple, the three Senior Secretaries and Deputy Secretaries wore dark red, and the four administrative officers wore dark green. The police guards, foot soldiers, cavalry, and honor guard were just as before. (L0qq„»ü};D+ {D¥„à2q‚L0-®„ };Ÿ}{Óq-±„ {²q-³$„¨©Ÿ0¬¦¡Lqžõ4 ôL).6 5 6 838.11.8. 838.11.18. 146 Again, although the correspondence between robe color and rank may seem like a trivial detail, for Ennin, these bureaucratic details are significant. Furthermore, the impressiveness of the display also speaks to the power and success of the Tang. Ennin even paid close attention to the names and ranks of the lower ranking officials, because this information was both practically useful and also because it revealed the workings of the Tang empire. For example, of the Guard Officer who eventually helped him receive permission to travel, he writes, The office, rank, and name of the Guard Officer are: the Guard Officer of Hai-zhou and concurrently the [District Commander of the Left], the Police Commandant of the four subprefectures, the Manager of Foreign Guests, official of the first class of the sixth rank, and probationary member of the Jinwu Imperial Palace Guards of the Left, Chang Shi (´µ {¶Éi"´µÕ¤1ù¦ù²ŸF\·F„¸×¹º„»¼}„ ½¤”󾿂).7 The following day, Ennin records the names and ranks of “Assistant Subprefect of the second class of the ninth rank and the former probationary Secretary in Charge of Rites of the Bureau of Imperial Sacrifices, [two others, also of ninth rank] . . . and Lu Liao, the Catcher of Bandits, who is a Chief of Employees of the third class of the ninth rank” (Ÿ À¢Á}4½zé±²+}Âáél . . . ÄÅ{]9}ÆÇÈž).8 Although, these men are all ninth rank—the very bottom of the Tang bureaucratic hierarchy, Ennin recorded their names and ranks because they were important to him at the time. Recording names and ranks was also a way to hold people accountable for their actions. If Ennin were unfairly treated, he would have a record of it to show to an official higher up. He also has his own copies of all the documents that concerned him. 7 839.4.7. Reischauer does not translate the one title in brackets, but merely transcribed the sounds, so I have supplied an approximation based on Hucker, 523n6962, and 140n694. 8 839.4.8. 147 Most of Ennin’s bureaucratic records of this kind come from the first section of his journal and gradually decrease over time.9 Early in his travels, when Ennin arrived in a new area, he meticulously recorded this kind of information. In addition to the examples already mentioned, he did this when he arrived in Jingzhou fu (ÉÂÊ) and visited the various offices.10 Ennin’s most detailed records are mainly at the beginning of his journal, when he was less sure of his legacy and what he would be able to accomplish. Once he had been in the Tang a while, he focused more exclusively on Buddhist subjects. Also, he probably became more familiar with the bureaucratic working of the Tang and his practical need for these kinds of notes decreased. Ennin also recorded the taboo characters for the various officials in whose jurisdiction he traveled. Soon after Ennin’s arrival in Yangzhou, the Minister of State’s aide explained the Minister of State’s taboo characters, which were not to be used in any letters to him.11 A few months later, a Tang monk explained the taboo characters of the emperor. Ennin listed the characters that were not to be used and appropriate substitutions.12 Later, he recorded a similar list for various officials in Dengzhou (¢ Â).13 Since the Heian court did not observe similar taboos, this is an example of provisionally important information that Ennin wrote down for his own immediate use. Although complex Buddhist rituals eventually required their own separate manuals, the mundane, local, provisionally necessary information was recorded into his journal. Although not systematized and never put into use by the Heian court, this information 9 This is also true of the record as whole. The length of entries for the first two years is greater than that of the remaining seven combined. 10 840.3.22. 11 838.8.26. Reischauer explains in a note, “It was customary to avoid the use of characters in the personal names of one’s father and grandfather.” 33n126. 12 838.11.17. 13 839.11.22. 148 still formed a part of the cultural technology that Ennin brought back from the Tang, since it would provide a model for other monks travelling to the continent. Government Rituals In addition to his records of religious rituals, Ennin also recorded several government rituals. Since institutional Heian Buddhism was primarily at the service of the court, Ennin would have been interested in the relationship of Buddhist monks and the Tang government. In general, it seems that Buddhist monks were treated as a special class of officials, although they enjoyed some prerogatives that set them apart. One ritual he describes in detail was the reading of an imperial rescript.14 The participants were split into five groups—civil officials, military officers, Buddhist monks and nuns, Daoist priests, and commoners—and each had a choreographed role. Initially, each group was called upon and responded in a symbolic roll call. Then each group made a show of respect towards the document, except for the religious group. Then the rescript was read in a loud voice and everyone stood and listened. Then each group responded again. Several features of Tang society emerge from this picture. First, civil officials orchestrated the entire ritual, with the military in a subordinate position. The ritual was also cosmically oriented and at different times Ennin notes the direction the officiators faced, either north or west. From the perspective of the government, Buddhist monks and Daoist priests had parallel roles and places in society. The reverential treatment of the 14 840.3.5. 149 actual document shows the importance of the written text.15 As with religious ritual, Ennin compares it to practices in the Heian court, stating that the readers’ “voices were loud, as when government decisions are announced in our country” (oL¥EWÝ·d o).16 Although this similarity is superficial, Ennin strives to establish connections between Tang and Heian practices. In contrast with previous examples where theywere treated the same as officials, religious practitioners were exempted from making obeisance to the document. This corresponds with similar exemptions for monks such as not having to bow to their parents or to the emperor. These exemptions were repeatedly singled out and attacked by Confucian critics of Buddhism who understood them as undermining the strict hierarchy upon which they felt an ordered, harmonious society depended. From the point of view of the government, there was less need for complete coherence between the various ideologies and so the individual advantages and power of the Buddhist and Daoist ideologies of rulership may outweighed this challenge to one aspect of the Confucian system. Likewise, the existence of several semi-independent systems may also have been seen as beneficial. The rice sorting associated with the New Year is a ritual practice that reinforces the idea that Buddhist monks were considered to have a role parallel with the bureaucracy.17 Each civil official and monk was given an amount of rice to sort. For purposes of this rite, monks were counted as officials. The complete grains of rice were 15 In actuality this would have been of little use to commoners who probably could not understand the ornate language of governmental edicts. Other subjects, like Ennin, might have been able to read the text, but probably did not understand it when it was read. 16 840.3.5. For an account of early Japanese practice of reading edicts, see Ross Bender, “Performative Loci of the Imperial Edicts in Nara Japan, 749-70,” Oral Tradition 24, no. 1 (2009): 249-268. 17 839.1.18. 150 sent to the imperial government and the damaged grains were retained at local government offices. The higher one’s rank, the larger his portion of rice to sort. In terms of this ritual, Buddhist monks’ relationship to the emperor was considered comparable with the civil bureaucracy. In the remainder of his entry for that day, Ennin goes on to explain the Buddhist positions in the bureaucratic hierarchy. There are senglu (è2) in charge of regulating monasteries and Buddhist law throughout the kingdom, the sengzheng (èš) in charge of the monasteries on a provincial level, and so on. By setting out this hierarchy Ennin again affirms the place of Buddhist monks in the Tang bureaucratic structure. After he had been in the Tang for a while, particularly after he reached the capital, Ennin stopped recording these government rituals in such detail. In the first month of 841, after mentioning that the emperor’s procession to the Altar of Heaven in the south of the city was accompanied by two hundred thousand guards, Ennin simply remarks, “The many wonders [of the occasion] were quite beyond count” (ífLP„ô$˧).18 At this point, he no longer considered it necessary to recount the details of political ritual, but instead narrowed his focus to studying esoteric Buddhism and copying esoteric texts. Edicts and Letters A significant portion of Ennin’s journal is filled with copies of letters, most of which are letters to and from Tang officials. As the primary form of communication between various levels of government—the widely dispersed local offices, provincial seats, and the central government—the letters formed an important foundation for the 18 841.1.8. 151 functioning of government and for the communal identity of the literati class.19 As a form of wen (]) the letters both reflected and reinforced the cosmically sanctioned social order. The cultural and political lingua franca of East Asia was Literary Sinitic, a written language; letter writing and official documents in Literary Sinitic formed much of the basis of this political order. Literary Sinitic was also the common sacred language of East Asian Buddhism. Ennin’s ability to participate in this discourse by composing letters marked him as a member of this cultural world. There are also practical reasons why Ennin would want to preserve these letters. One reason manifested in the journal was the need to keep a record of his interactions with Tang officials. On several occasions, Ennin was asked to provide a history of his travels (ÇF) and he was able to provide a list of place names and dates because he had it all written down. These copies of letters are also related to his Buddhist mission, because they record those who made Buddhist offerings by giving him food, cloth, and other essentials. The past letters also provided templates for future letters. There are many precedents for this type of activity. In a manuscript culture, copying a document was the only way to preserve it and have one’s own copy. As letters passed through the various levels of the bureaucracy, sometimes it seems the primary activity of officials was to recopy these letters, append a note or judgment, and then send it on. This combination of the original letter and accumulated comments then form the basis for judgments reached at the higher levels. Letter formats were very complicated and these formats reflected and reinforced the cosmically sanctioned social order. Attention to letter formats (ch:shuyi, jp:shogi f 19 For a general overview of this tradition, see Nakamura Hiroichi ;Ëìq, T"dai kanbunsho kenky! j \{]fÞß (Ch!bun shuppansha ;]JK-, 1991). 152 ê) in China began in the Western Jin (åÌ 265-316 CE) with the first letter writing manual, the Yue yi zhan (ØêÍ). They are also mentioned in Yan Zhitui’s (ÎdÏ) guide for his progeny (Yanshi jiaxun ÎÐÑÒ). In addition to information on how to write letters, these were basically handbooks that dictated the appropriate actions for social situations, such as greetings.20 In China, letter formats were part of a larger realm of ritual propriety and law that was the foundation of society. Letter writing formulas, like the larger world of ritual from which they drew, were based on maintaining hierarchical relationships. These status distinctions reached all the way down to relationships between family members, each with different appropriate formats.21 The introduction to the most widely used letter-writing manual of the Tang states, When people have rituals they are secure, without them they are endangered. To comprehend through knowledge the forms and rituals is to be a shi-da-fu (gentlemen, officials). The auspicious and ill-omened rites are weighty matters, but the ritual classics are confusingly arranged, making them difficult to consult. Therefore able scholars have selected and arranged the essential of the auspicious and ill-omened rites and labeled them shuyi [letter writing manuals] to transmit to the ages (qd» +6-, 8Ü6ÓDÔÕÖ…-êÜ÷˜D×L-dÑ, ½ØdÓÙ, 3íÜqÚÛÜL, -3öÝÃ, Þ»´×, ßVàá½Øfê, Džv MÙ).22 As this quotation makes clear, letter writing formats were motivated by the concept of ritual propriety (ch:li +). The concept of li was central to the Confucian morality and considered one of the foundations of human society. 20 Yang Li õâ, “Tonk# bunken shogi k#—tonk" shakai keizai bunken shinseki shakuroku o ch!shin ni,” ãä]åfê_:ãä-•qæ]ånçœÔ†;±x , Ningen bunka kenky! ka nenp" q¿]íÞß è×È (Nara j#shi daigaku daigakuin ningen bunka kenky!ka ééêÁL(L(Åq¿]íÞßè 2006): 297. 21 Maruyama Yumiko ë´ìëÁ, “Shogi no juy# ni tsuite. Sh#s#in monjo ni miru ‘shogi no sekai’” fê =Tëx•{‰--šìÅ]fxí•Ìfê=vwÐ Sh"s"in monjo kenky! šìÅ]fÞß no. 4 (1996): 127. 22 Chinese quoted in Maruyama, “Shogi no juy#,” 129. English translation from Patricia Ebrey, “T'ang Guides to Verbal Etiquette,” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 45, no. 2 (1985): 593. 153 Patricia Ebrey’s “Tang Guides to Verbal Etiquette” reconstructs the history of letter writing manuals, giving an overview of the genre and its place in Tang society. She points out that “ritualized communication helped maintain social relations,” and condolences and patronage relationships were particularly important letter writing occasions. 23 Through the Tang, new manuals were written periodically. This need for continual revision suggests that the manuals both reflected and influenced the spoken language and were updated to reflect changes in the current idiom.24 Ennin’s journal provides evidence of this when he states that his fellow monks’ New Year’s greetings were “exactly in conformity with shuyi rules,” or “conformed to the tastes of men of former times.”25 This explains Ennin’s motivation to acquire the latest shuyi manual and bring home examples that reflected contemporary usage.26 The formulaic, repetitive nature of these letter formats was linked to their effectiveness in affirming the existing social hierarchies. Ebrey argues, To put this more positively, many of those who used shuyi must have sensed that the formulaic aspects of the letter were important. They sensed that the letter would be less effective, not more effective, if they made up some new phrase to replace “may your honored person have a myriad of blessings in all that you do.” For the language in these letters is not the language of literature, but the language of ritual. What they lack in freedom of statement, they make up in illocutionary force.27 Ebrey argues that the letters were “intended not so much to be read as recognized” and “the more standard the phrases used, the less the risk of mistake.”28 For the most part, Ennin’s journal bears this out and he mostly employs a rather limited set of stock phrases. 23 Ebrey, “Tang Guides,” 582. Ebrey, “Tang Guides,” 594-5 25 Ebrey, “Tang Guides,” 607. 26 Yamada Hideo ´‚îÉ, “Shogi ni tsuite” fêx•{‰, in Taigai kankei to shakai keizai. Mori Katsumi hakase kanreki kinen ronbunsh! ï¯xð:-•qæ – ™ñòó×ô°Ý‚ù]V (Hanawa shob# efg, 1968), 29–44. 27 Ebrey, “Tang Guides,” 610. 28 Ebrey, “Tang Guides,” 610. 24 154 When Ennin is writing for certain purposes, such as letters of introduction or of thanks, the letters are formulaic and use these kinds of stock phrases described by Ebrey. Ennin’s facility with these forms shows the extent to which they were used in the Heian court as well. There were many different gradations for each aspect of the letter depending on the status of the sender and recipient, as well as the content. There were different forms of opening and closing a letter depending on whether the addressee was a monk, a Daoist priest, a military governor, a teacher, friend, woman, etc. Letters within the family had many fine degrees of gradation between agnatic and maternal relatives, younger and older, etc. The different manuals also had different prescriptions, probably due to regional variations as well as changes over time.29 All of these differences of course reflect a very hierarchically differentiated society and the letter formats are performances that reinforce these cosmically sanctioned differences. In addition, in most cases, the letters were also motivated by some consideration of benefit, like maintaining mutually beneficial social tries, or accomplishing some task.30 Ennin’s letters were almost all requests for permission to travel or to stay somewhere, or for supplies from the government. When he sent letters of greeting, they were to people whose assistance he required. Confucian philosophy recognized this social function of ritual, but rather than define it in terms of self-interest, it emphasized the larger goals of harmonious families and countries.31 Because of the important function of letters in Tang society in maintaining social hierarchies, when those hierarchies began to change, the 29 Nakamura, T"dai kanbunsho, 496-7; Ebrey, “Tang Guides,” 605-6. Ebrey, “Tang Guides,” 587. 31 I explored Confucian definition of ritual as socially functional in the introduction. The Confucian distaste for personal benefit is clear in the opening chapter of the Mencius. 30 155 letter formats reflected those changes. For example, the format for biao (¬ edict) was originally reserved for the emperor, but after the Anlushan rebellion (-³´ 755-763) it was appropriated by the military governors as well.32 The practice of letter writing and using letter writing formats spread throughout the East Asian cultural sphere. For example, there is a record of a Sillan king requesting a copy of the Li ji (ÜÝ) and other texts that deal with shuyi from China.33 Since the lingua franca of the East Asian cultural sphere was Literary Sinitic, primarily a written language, participation in the East Asian cultural sphere was possible with a knowledge of the written forms. The literate elites that could read and write this language were able to imagine themselves as an extended linguistic community based on the written language of Literary Sinitic. Likewise, the imperial ideology of universality, although not accepted uncritically by all the member states, was also based on this written language, rather than on a spoken one. Ennin’s ability to write letters and interact with the bureaucracy in this way marked him as a member of this community. These types of letters were also an important part of life at the Heian court.34 Ennin brought back Zheng’s (ô) manual, which was the most commonly used manual in China and also the most authoritative in Japan from the ninth and tenth century onward.35 However, even before Ennin returned, there were already shuyi manuals in Japan.36 32 Furuse Natsuko Oõé}Á, “Shogi shoken yori mita nitt# kodai kanry#sei no tokushitsu” fêf‘Œ •í|ØjO\{ÈC=’“ , Ochanomizu shigaku öö=¯G( 49 (2005): 125. For more about the Anlushan rebellion, see Michael Dalby, “Court Politics in Later T’ang Times,” in The Cambridge History of China: Volume 3, Sui and T'ang China, 589-906 AD, Part One, ed. Dennis C. Twitchett (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1979), 561-85. 33 Maruyama, “Shogi no juy#,” 132. 34 For a history of their use in Japan (and China) see Markus Ruttermann, “‘So That We Can Study LetterWriting”: The Concept of Epistolary Etiquette in Premodern Japan,” Japan Review 18 (2006): 57-128. 35 Maruyama, “Shogi no juy#,” 132. 36 Maruyama, “Shogi no juy#,” 133. 156 Monks who traveled to China, such as Saich#, K!kai, and Ennin, were already comfortable using these formats in fairly sophisticated ways when they first arrived.37 Maruyama feels that there were enough different shuyi available in the Heian period that even a mid-level bureaucrat would have had access to one and been familiar with the forms.38 There were also significant differences in how letters were used in the Tang and Heian societies that reflect the different relationship between the tenn" and his ministers versus the Chinese emperor and his.39 It is also unlikely that these types of letters were used as widely in non-official communication among members the Heian court, if only because the total number of literate people was far fewer and there was no system of extended clan lineages and patronage comparable to the Tang that would provide occasions for writing such letters. Likewise, Heian Japan was a smaller state that required fewer people to be away from the capital in the provinces at any given time. Ebrey emphasizes the social role of these letters in affirming relationships, but many letters also contained requests, which could be granted or denied. Although correct usage was important and mistakes might undermine the effectiveness of one’s letter, at times a certain amount of literary flourish and a more developed rationale might also be important. For example, when K!kai traveled to China, the embassy was not allowed to disembark for a long time although the ambassador repeatedly sent letters requesting permission. Finally, the ambassador asked K!kai to write a letter. K!kai’s letter was so well written and the calligraphy was so fine that the embassy was immediately allowed to 37 Nakamura, T"dai kanbunsho, 502; Maruyama, “Shogi no juy#,” 133. Maruyama, “Shogi no juy#,” 134. 39 For an overview of the differences between the two systems, see Furuse, “Shogi, shoten,” 125-8. 38 157 disembark.40 The form and content were integrally connected, and K!kai’s ability to express himself in elegant Chinese proved that they were true ambassadors from the Heian court, rather than merchants trying to take advantage of the Tang tribute system. For both sides, the embassies were a test of the level of civilization of the Heian court and the ability to compose proper letters in Literary Sinitic was part of the criteria. Ennin’s journal is filled with a variety of letter that can tell us a lot about how letters functioned in the Tang. Many of Ennin’s letters focus on his attempt to secure permission to travel, first to Mt. Tientai, and then later to Mt. Wutai. I would like to examine this correspondence to illustrate how the system actually functioned and how Ennin learned and adapted himself to it during his time in the Tang. Although the history of this correspondence is lengthy and often repetitive, I think it is worth examining in detail because of the sense it provides of the texture of the Tang bureaucracy and of the letter formats and their importance in mediating these crucial relationships. In some of Ennin’s first letters requesting permission to travel to Mt. Tientai, Ennin had a difficult time getting some of his requests approved. Among the many letters Ennin wrote, there are a few that stand out as instances where word choice was important. In 838.8.4, soon after arriving in Yangzhou, the embassy sent two identical requests for Ennin and Ensai (#à) to travel to Mt. Tientai. In response, the provincial government rewrote both requests, sending one copy back to the monks and the other to the court. Although the letters are short, the changes made by the Tang officials are revealing. 40 Ronald S. Green, “K!kai, Founder of Japanese Shingon Buddhism: Portrait of His Life” (PhD diss., University of Wisconsin Madison, 2003), 131. 158 One set of changes reflects greater differentiation of status. The headers of the original letters include the names of the entire parties, whereas in the revision, only the leaders of each party, Ennin and Ensai, are named. Also, although Ennin and Ensai’s original letters are identical, the revisions create differences that reflect Ennin and Ensai’s different statuses. Ennin requests to go to Taizhou to “seek teachers and resolve doubts” (ø÷ø), whereas Ensai wants to “follow a teacher and study” (»¸^Ô),41 and then the phrase “in search of the law” (ùÚ) is added to Ensai’s reasons for wanting to travel to the capital. Ennin is an older and more accomplished monk and will only be in the Tang for a short period, but Ensai is younger and is expected to receive longer and more extensive training. The Tang officials felt it necessary to reflect these differences in status in the letters, showing a more fine tuned sense of hierarchy than in the originals. The next set of changes adds reasons and grammatical links between the clauses. Where the original merely requests permission to travel to Mt. Tientai, the Tang officials added grammatical links between the clauses and rationale for the requests. In the revision, Ennin wants to go to Taizhou to “resolve some doubts” and then if the provinces “are without teachers” (ú8Â8¸) then he wants to go to the capital. Ensai’s rationale is that he is going to “follow a teacher and study.” Rather than merely requesting permission to travel, it is necessary that they add reasons for their request, and then again to explain why they might need to travel to the capital. These rationale suggested by the Tang official for the Japanese monks’ need to travel to the capital—that the provinces might be without teachers or that the teachers will be insufficient for Ennin and Ensai’s 41 I retranslated this to make it more literal than Reischauer’s translation and highlight the differences between the two letters. 159 needs—show that the Tang officials held the provincial Mt. Tientai monasteries in lower esteem than did the Japanese monks. The revision also deletes the phrase “to reside in Taizhou and, on leaving Taizhou” (ûœµÂ„—ü§µÂýü), because it is redundant and adds the phrase “pass through the various provinces [on the way to the capital]” (Õð¨íÂ), which was probably necessary to receive travel permits to pass through the checkpoints from Taizhou to the capital.42 These changes suggest an aspect of the letters that has not been covered in other discussions of letter formats. In addition to getting the phrases right and making the social gesture correctly, it was also important to make one’s case by presenting valid rationale, at least in these kinds of letters to the government. Ennin’s original letters tend to be very direct, without providing any rationale. Yet even with the revisions, Ennin’s requests to travel to Mt. Tientai were ultimately refused, although Ensai was granted permission. The reason given for the refusal was that because Ennin was a short-term monk he would not have had enough time to go to Mt. Tientai and back and still be able to return with the embassy. Ennin’s next set of letters consists of his requests to travel to Mt. Wutai. Soon after he arrived in the Sillan cloister, the cloister received a letter from the subprefectural government demanding to know what the situation was and why they were not informed earlier.43 Both Ennin and the Sillan abbot sent responses to the subprefectural government. Their content is similar, but the abbot’s letter demonstrates a better 42 838.8.4. 839.7.28. Huang Qinglian ,¼y, “Yuanren and the Policing System of the Tang Dynasty” Yuanren yu tangdai xunjian ƒ$õj\ÛÝ, Bulletin of the Institute of History and Philology Academica Sinica Zhongyan yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo jikan ;IÞßÅ, *GbØÞßMVþ 68, no. 4 (1997): 922-27. 43 160 knowledge of the formalities appropriate to the genre. Both make the case for Ennin’s desire to stay in Buddhist terms. They emphasize the distance he has come and his great desire to travel through the “sacred country” (•W) of the Tang. Ennin borrows the phrase “seeking teachers” (ø) from the revision of his earlier request. Emphasizing the spiritual centrality of the Tang reinforces its political centrality. Ennin also provides the list of belongings requested by the government. This dual emphasis on the sincerity of the monks’ desire and their list of their meager belongings makes sense in light of the situation in the Tang at the time. Since the government had been selling Buddhist ordination certificates as a way to garner extra revenue, there were many people who became monks in name only for the tax exemption.44 Emphasizing the sincerity of their Buddhist desire for pilgrimage and how few their material possessions were was one way to establish their credentials as legitimate monks, worthy of government support. After a number of letters back and forth between the subprefecture and the monastery, the prior of the Mt. Chi cloister showed Ennin a successful request for permission to travel that he wrote 30 years earlier. In contrast to the letters Ennin has been writing, the letter is very literary. In his letter, the prior establishes his sincerity as a practitioner of Buddhism, cites Buddhist precedents for mendicancy and imperial precedents for allowing mendicancy. The official addendum states that the precedents cited were confirmed in the imperial archives and recommends that permission be granted. 44 Jacques Gernet, Buddhism in Chinese Society, trans. Franciscus Verellen (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998), 52. 161 Ennin then wrote another letter asking for permission to travel.45 This letter is much more ornate than previous letters and borrows some of the ideas and phrases from the Sillan prior’s letter. In particular, it cites the imperial precedent allowing the Indian monk Prajna to travel.46 He also makes a stronger case for the spiritual centrality of China, again calling it a “sacred country” and stating that, “eminent monks from India have visited [the peaks of the Mt. Wutai], crossing their precipitous slopes, and famous patriarchs from China have there obtained enlightenment” (å,•èaÿÃ!„'’i tS"5mr). Further on he continues, “the glorious fame of the Monastery Administrators will stir foreign lands afar, their encouraging magnanimity will make gloriously manifest the sun-like Buddha, and we shall be more indebted to you” (‘6„ #$ïÚd%o„M&"¯'Ýd()„¦ÀªD„ô*yÇd°).47 This letter was followed up by several shorter repeat requests and eventually he was granted permission to travel. In this instance, Ennin’s ability to develop his case and present reasoned arguments that appeal to the Tang bureaucrats appear to have been crucial to the success of his request. So while most of the letters were merely bureaucratic formalities that allow the government to keep track of and regulate the movements of monks, in a few instances, the rationale and content of the letter was also critical. As part of the process of receiving permission and preparing to travel to Mt. Wutai, Ennin continued to send letters to various local officials. These letters show an increasingly familiarity and facility with the genre. Once the weather warmed slightly, 45 839.9.12. Unlike the Sillan monk, Ennin does not request permission to practice mendicancy and beg. Instead, in subsequent letters, he asks to be supplied with grain from the government because his inability to speak Chinese makes him unable to beg. 47 Letter dated 839.9.26, found between entries, 839.9.12 and 839.9.23. p.149 46 162 Ennin sent a shorter letter to the cloister expressing his thanks and his desire to travel.48 Five days later, the monastery wrote a letter to Chang Yong (¿+), a Korean Guard Officer in the prefectural government, to which Ennin added his own letter.49 This letter is very deferentially written and uses all of the proper formalities. Chang Yong replied that he had informed the magistrate of the subprefecture, and then again that the subprefect had informed the prefectural government, and to wait ten days for a reply. On 840.2.1, just a few days after the last reply, Ennin sent another letter to Chang Yong. In the letter, Ennin politely acknowledges Chang’s efforts and that he has been asked to wait ten days, but humbly asks if the process can be speeded up. After emphasizing the sincerity of his Buddhist motivation Ennin writes, Carried away by my desire to make an early start, I am unmindful of the distasteful reproof [I am bringing upon myself] and have dared to trouble my commander with petty matters. Although I should be covered with embarrassment I cannot remain quiet. Thus because of my longing for the Guard Officer’s gracious support, I humbly hope that you will redouble your efforts and that I shall be quickly granted a decision. If that transpires, your great generosity and glorious fame will stir foreign lands afar, the merit of our search for the Law will bind us in close association, and I shall be overwhelmed with gratitude (,-.J„ô/01„eD aP„²23+‚45^6„ô778‚ðÞ—9´µ:;„²<Ó ='Ý„.·æ;‚‘6>?%o„M&"¯ÙÚC@„¹r”V‚ ô*ABd° ).50 As a Sillan expatriate living in the area, Chang was connected to the monastery and was already motivated to help Ennin as much as he could. As a monk, Ennin felt entitled to people’s help and respect, not for himself necessarily, but for the Buddhist cause he was undertaking. Again, his letter employs extremely deferential language in order to accomplish Ennin’s purpose. 48 840.1.15. Here, I follow Reischauer in romanizing Sillan names according to their modern Korean pronunciation. 50 840.2.1. 49 163 Overall, Ennin’s efforts were successful. In response, Chang told Ennin not to worry and that he would send another person to check and that “a number of people had been doing what they could for me all day long” (ŠCqDDEE).51 Clearly, Ennin knew not to bother him about it any more. Fifteen days later, Chang came to the monastery for a maigre feast and sent Ennin a notice saying that permission should come in three to five days, but if he wanted to hurry things along, he could come to the subprefectural government and they would pass him along.52 Ennin also wrote letters of greeting to cultivate relationships with individuals whose help he might need in the future. On 840.2.17, Ennin wrote a letter to another Sillan Guard Officer Ch’oe who was passing through, a short letter to Administrative Officer Nam, and one to Commissioner Chang Pogo. Ch’oe was an officer of Chang Pogo’s who passed through the Mt. Chi monastery in the seventh month, when Ennin first arrived. Apparently, Ennin had requested his assistance in returning to Japan, so in the letter he informs him that he has decided to make a pilgrimage to the Mt. Wutai instead.53 He also states that he plans on returning to Japan in autumn of the following year and requests their assistance in doing so. In his letter to Commissioner Chang, Ennin tells him that he had a letter for him from the Governor of Chikuzen province (F 4),54 but it was lost when their ship was destroyed. The formalities of both letters are clearly more important than the content, although there is some information communicated as well. Ennin was worried about how he would return home and 51 840.2.1. 840.2.14. 53 840.2.17. 54 Chikuzen is where Hakata (óŠ) and Dazaifu (z•j) were located and was the gateway for most of the Japanese exchange with the continent. Chang Pogo controlled the area of the southern Korean peninsula and offshore islands that were close to Chikuzen. 52 164 cultivated these relationships in hope that they would be useful to him on his return journey. He also expressed gratitude for the help he had already received. Finally, Ennin received two travel documents. The first was a directive to Guard Officer Chang that Ennin had been granted permission and to make out travel documents for him. Ennin, apparently unsatisfied with this, went to subprefectural office to ask for written approval, which was granted. Subsequently Ennin made his way from the subprefecture to the next level, where he again requested permission to travel. He sent the magistrate (F©) a series of letters.55 In response to a query from an official, he provided a history of his travel in China. 56 Ennin was then invited to meet with the magistrate, who gave him provisions for his travels. The next day was a holiday and the magistrate visited the monastery, had tea with Ennin, and asked about his country. The following day, Ennin wrote an extremely deferential a letter thanking him for the provisions accompanied by another letter requesting permission to travel. The first letter shows a mastery of the forms that Ennin had been using throughout his travels. The second letter reflects the influence of the letter Ennin received from the Sillan prior. The format is similar, emphasizing Ennin’s devotion to Buddhism and the importance and centrality of the Mt. Wutai in the international Buddhist sphere. He writes, In the sixth month of the fourth year of Kaicheng they reached the [Sillan] cloister at Mt. Chi in Jingning xiang in Wendeng xian, separated by the ocean wastes from the land of their birth and forgetting their beloved land on this ocean shore. Fortunately, they were free to travel and were able to come to the Magistrate’s enlightened territory. (©:²×HØô„ 55 56 840.3.5. 840.3.1. 165 ]¢ŸjG%Ä´ÎÏÅ‚%ý3-HI„J+–-"9‚Æ2º* ?å„5ÂF©$K ).57 Here he adds to the format in several ways. He relates his own history, reemphasizes his sincerity and commitment to Buddhism. Likewise, Ennin connects himself with the Sillan monastery and monks, whom the magistrate already knew. This affirms the centrality of Tang Buddhism and the precedent of allowing travel to the Mt. Wutai. He also notes he had already been granted permission to travel once, which provided a precedent for the magistrate’s decision. Before continuing, Ennin sent several more letters to various officials, again showing the variety of occasions and requests that motivated letters. Three days later, Ennin sent two more brief letters, one containing a spring greeting and apologizing for not presenting it in person, and another requesting a decision for permission to travel.58 He received a verbal response that the letters were coming and then received a written response several days later. The response quotes Ennin’s letter in full, adds to it a short description of his being left behind by the Japanese embassy, and asks for a decision from the Regional Commander.59 Ennin then took this document and traveled to Dengzhou (¢Â) to the prefectural offices. There, he submitted the statement he received from the subprefecture, adding a short preface. His letters were reported to the throne and the next day he received his official credentials. Since there was no way a reply could have come from Changan so quickly, the report to the throne must have been procedural and the actual decision was made at the prefectural level. He then sent a separate letter to the Assistant regional commander, asking for provisions and excusing himself from begging 57 840.3.5. 840.3.8. 59 840.3.11. 58 166 because “he speaks a different tongue” (3Ø>(„ô7LM ).60 He received the provisions and sent a letter of thanks in response. Then several days later he sent a similar letter to the President of the Ministry who provided him with cloth and tea. Although lengthy, this summary provides a good sense of the details of Tang bureaucracy and how it functioned on a day-to-day basis. This information would be invaluable for foreigners trying to navigate the system on their own. Ennin’s requests were generally for provisions and permission to travel. From his arrival in the Tang, the government assumed responsibility for providing him with food and shelter. Although he expressed thanks for what he received, he expected it to be provided and asked for it when it was not. The amount and type of goods provided were idiosyncratic, although they generally consisted of grains and cloth, both of which were common units of exchange. It is ambiguous whose responsibility it was to provide for him. Ennin sent almost identical requests to both the Assistant Regional Commander and to the President of the Ministry within a few days of each other. Lower-level officials, motivated by their faith in Buddhism, also hosted him on several occasions and provided provisions, in these cases, probably from their personal goods rather than from government supplies.61 Overall, Ennin’s letters show that he understood and was fairly well integrated into the Tang bureaucratic system. In addition to the formal letters of greeting and thanks, he also wrote many requests. These requests were not necessarily routinely granted but Ennin needed to present a rationale for his travel and demonstrate the sincerity of his 60 840.3.25. On a practical level, it is very difficult to distinguish between government stipends and gifts from government officials. The higher the official, the more capable and obligated they were to provide support for the embassy and for monks. Likewise, a sense of governmental obligation to provide for Buddhist monks, especially foreign monks, is inseparable from the general, though not necessarily exclusive, expression of Buddhist faith. 61 167 desire. This nuances our understanding of Tang letter formats and official correspondence to include consideration of content. The idiosyncratic, ad hoc, nature of the Tang administration is also apparent. For example, Ennin felt it necessary to send follow up letters to make sure his requests were being dealt with. Although efficient by premodern standards, Tang bureaucracy was still very far from the modern bureaucratic ideal of functionaries uniformly applying the law. It is difficult to draw a line between official and personal correspondence, because the bureaucracy functioned through interpersonal relationships. Ennin’s familiarity with this world and the relative ease with which he functions in it suggest a high degree of ideological similarity between Tang China and Heian Japan. The Role of Buddhism in the Tang Government Ennin’s account of his interaction with the Tang bureaucracy raises the issue of the exact nature of a Buddhist monk’s relationship to the government, particularly a foreign monk. Ennin’s correspondence centered around his requests for provisions, expressing thanks for gifts received and offering gifts, and requesting permission to travel or to stay in a certain area. On the most general level, all of this gestures towards the fact that Buddhist monks were mostly treated as part of the government bureaucracy. The use of monasteries to house official travelers and the role of monks in civil rituals confirm this picture. Since the Tang government conceived of itself as universal, everyone was integrated into the hierarchy, even foreigners. Foreign monks had a two-sided role: as foreigners they functioned like embassies that demonstrated the centrality of the Tang, 168 but as Buddhist monks they were already integrated into the Tang system.62 The centrality of the Tang in East Asian Buddhism reinforced the Tang’s political centrality. One advantage of the claim of Buddhist centrality was that it was easier for the Tang government to maintain. Long after the Heian court discontinued their embassies, for political and financial reasons, monks continued to travel to China to visit sacred sites. In the early years of the Song, these monks were treated as de facto ambassadors by the Song court.63 The exact relationship between the imperial system and Buddhism was hardly fixed. Among the various influences were Buddhist ideas of the cakravartin king, classical ideas about the importance of ritual, and a long history of mutual dependence between Buddhist monasteries and Chinese rulers. In the Tang, both Buddhism and Daoism were sponsored by the government, although, given their mutual antagonism, it is hard to imagine a single coherent ideology justifying this position while still taking each religions’ claims at face value.64 Buddhism was the more powerful and wealthy of the two, due to its widespread appeal to both commoners and literati. For the commoners, this popularity stemmed from the thaumaturgical efficacy of Buddhist practitioners, its well-developed soteriology, in addition to the various social functions of the monasteries such as sponsoring festivals and charitable works.65 For the literati, Buddhism’s sophisticated phenomenology, the cultural affinities between the monks and literati class, 62 Wang Zhenping, Ambassadors from the Islands of Immortals: China-Japan Relations in the Han-Tang Period (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press 2005), 33. 63 I discuss these phenomena in the final chapter. 64 Of course, neither religion can really be described as having a unified doctrinal position, and certain thinkers were more or less syncretic in their understanding of the other religious traditions. Also, effective ideologies need not be logically coherent. 65 Monastery participation in festivals was discussed in the chapters about Tang ritual. For more information about Chinese monasteries charitable work, see Jacques Gernet, Buddhism in Chinese Society, trans. Franciscus Verellen (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998), 217-28. 169 and a well-articulated ideology of rulership were additional factors. 66 However, because of the existence of an institutionalized rival, Buddhism was never as ideologically hegemonic in the Tang as it was in the Heian court. Both Buddhist and Daoist monks were supported by the government and were responsible for performing rituals for the spiritual benefit of the state. Kenneth Ch’en writes, “We might say that the monks in these national monasteries were treated like members of the civil bureaucracy in having all of their needs supplied by the state; they had no need to depend upon alms from ordinary laity for sustenance.”67 With the Daoists, Buddhist monks basically constituted the spiritual branch of the bureaucracy. There were also non-official monasteries that were sponsored by local elites, some of which were eventually granted official status. As we have seen, monasteries performed birthdays, funeral, and memorial rituals for the emperor and other political leaders. Culturally, Buddhist monks had much in common with the bureaucratic class. Higher-level monks often came from the literati class and had been educated in the classical canon. They were able to compose poetry and letters and engage in literary exchanges. The monasteries provided an appealing alternative to official life for the literati. Much of the canonical rhetoric of reclusion was transposed to the Buddhist monasteries. Buddhist philosophy was also an important component of the intellectual 66 For an account of the esoteric Buddhist ideology of kingship, see Charles Orzech, Politics and Transcendent Wisdom: The Scripture for Humane Kings in the Creation of Chinese Buddhism (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1998). Ryuichi Abe discusses K!kai’s role in deploying esoteric Buddhist thinking about kingship in Japan. Ryuichi Abe, The Weaving of Mantra (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999). Bialock and Ooms discuss Daoist influences in pre-Heian notions of kingship. David T. Bialock, Eccentric Spaces, Hidden Histories: Narrative, Ritual, and Royal Authority from The Chronicles of Japan to The Tale of the Heike (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2007). Herman Ooms, Imperial Politics and Symbolics in Ancient Japan: The Tenmu Dynasty, 650-800 (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2009). 67 Kenneth K. S. Ch'en, “The Role of Buddhist Monasteries in T'ang Society,” History of Religions 15, no. 3 (1976): 212. 170 life of the period.68 Officials stayed in monasteries while traveling and also used them as retreats to study for the exams.69 Although this aspect is not highlighted in his journal, Ennin’s interactions with literati officials are set against the background of this shared cultural world. It was common practice in East Asia to provide for foreign embassies, including monks. The Heian embassy was provided for the entire time it was in the Tang. When the embassy finished its audience with the emperor, all of the members of the embassy were given “official salaries” of five bolts of cloth, temporarily integrating them into the Tang hierarchy.70 The visiting Heian monks were also included, although the directive notes, “there is no precedent for giving official salaries to monks” (NO8»PEèd O).71 The lack of precedent for monks receiving official salaries was not that monks were not part of the Tang system, but that were not usually granted salaries as part of embassies. Foreign monks were already incorporated under a separate, Buddhist system, and so there was no need for them to be symbolically incorporated, as there was for foreign embassies.72 Their status as monks was already known and accounted for. In the end, however, their status as members of the Heian embassy was deemed more significant than their status as foreign monks and they were provided salaries. Although local officials generally filled Ennin’s requests for provisions, while traveling, Ennin also expected commoners to allow him to stay and provide him with 68 Chen, “Role of Buddhist Monasteries,” 214-15. Chen, “Role of Buddhist Monasteries,” 219. 70 Wang, Ambassadors from the Islands, 20-32. 71 839.2.6. 72 Further evidence for this is that when they arrived in the Tang, they were soon transferred to staying in a monastery, instead of the official housing for the embassy. 838.8.24. 69 171 condiments and vegetables free of charge. That most do suggests that this was fairly common practice, although I have not found a source justifying the tradition. Travel was highly regulated by both the Tang and Heian governments.73 Other than merchants, about whom we know very little, Buddhist monks and official were probably the most common travelers. As we have seen, permission was required, especially if one was a foreigner. The extreme concern of local officials when Ennin and his companions were discovered separated from their ships suggests that the regulations were strictly enforced in the coastal areas.74 The subprefecture wanted to know their names, what they had with them, and why they had not been reported earlier. However, the level of regulation was not consistent throughout the empire. As he left the Sillan cloister and traveled toward Mt. Wutai, Ennin stopped at each progressively higher level of government to receive permission to travel. In contrast, the stretch of road from Mt. Wutai to the capital was relatively unregulated, at least for Buddhist monks, and Ennin did not request any more travel papers until he arrived at the capital. Finally, after this long hiatus from the world of officialdom, Ennin reached the capital and again began to interact with the Tang bureaucracy through letters. He wrote to request permission to reside in one of the monasteries there and also provided a history of his travel (ÇF) to that point.75 This is one of several similar documents in which Ennin provides a detailed record of his time in the Tang thus far. It let the officials know where he had been and was a verifiable record of his interaction with the government thus far, satisfying the government’s need for oversight of foreigners and of travel. After 73 For a look at some other travel requests, see Ono Katsutoshi aoË×, “T# no kaigendai no ryok# sh#meisho ni tsuite” j=:]\=QÇR…fx•{‰ , T"y" gakujutsu kenky! ?ë(âÞß 16, no. 3 (1977): 146-57. 74 839.7.28; Huang, “Yuanren and the Policing System,” 912-7. 75 840.8.23. 172 a year in the capital, Ennin wrote to request permission to return to Japan, but received no reply.76 As evidence of the importance of proper protocol, Ennin records that when a learned Indian monk requested permission to return home without respecting the proper channels, his disciples were beaten as punishment and his petition was not granted. Although the emperor already had begun to favor Daoists over Buddhists in the debates held at the palace, the actual persecution of Buddhism had not yet begun. The first signs of the Huichang persecution began the following year with the decision to dismiss unofficial monks and nuns and not allow the ordination of new novices. As foreign monks, Ennin and his followers were not on the Tang registers of monks, so they were vulnerable since unregistered monks were the first group targeted. However, Qiu Shiliang (S×é), a powerful eunuch, did his best to protect them, making them some of the last monks to be laicized.77 Ironically, once they were laicized they were also free to return home, since they were free from the extra regulations laid on monks during the persecution. Conflicts Between Ennin’s Imperial and Buddhist Agenda Overall, Ennin seems to have largely accepted the imperial ideology about Buddhism. However, there were a few instances where there was a conflict between his Buddhist mission and the requirements of the Tang government. The first instance was Ennin’s decision to stay in China, although he had not been granted permission by the government, and the second was the Huichang persecution. 76 77 841.8.7. Biography found in Xin tang shu Îjf, 207. 173 Because he was only in China as a short-term monk, Ennin was not allowed to travel to Mt. Tientai to study. With the embassy preparing to leave, Ennin was frustrated because he felt he had not accomplished the purpose of his travel to China. He expressed his desire to stay to the Japanese ambassador, who advised, If you desire to remain, that is for the sake of Buddhism, and I dare not stand in the way of your determination. If you wish to stay, then do remain. The government of this land, however, is very severe, and, if the officials learn of this, it will [entail] the crime of disobeying an imperial order, and you [may] have trouble. You should think it over. (øáÍœ„ ˜—ªm„ôTUJ„áœVÍ‚èßWd·¸W„{Ñ9ï„û• U¼dX„»YZ[‚è7y:g).78 Although undoubtedly a Tang official would have answered differently, the Heian ambassador admits a certain priority of Buddhist over political considerations. Ennin’s Buddhist desire to study was contradicted by the Tang government’s determination that he should return with the embassy. From Ennin’s perspective, he had come to remedy Saich#’s lack of esoteric training and increase the prestige of the Tendai school in the newly esotericized religious landscape of the early Heian period. He was uniquely suited to do this as a senior monk with ample resources at his disposal. From the Tang perspective, his designation as a short-term monk (kangakus", alt. gengakus" ô(è) meant he should return with the embassy.79 Initially, Ennin saw no way to stay and began to return to Japan with the embassy, but later he decided to abandon the ship and stay in China. Although he was unwilling to set his own Buddhist rationale in direct 78 839.3.5. Here, based on the final character “[” I have changed Reischauer’s translation from “probably have trouble” to “may have trouble,” which I think is more accurate. It also suggests that the ambassador is more supportive of Ennin’s plan. 79 Even more commonly used is the term sh"yakus" (alt. shin’ekis" ;\è) but they are used interchangeably. Reischauer translates both as scholar monk. 3n7. In contrast, Ensai is termed a ry!gakus" (Í(è) or student monk, and was intended to stay much longer. In fact, he spent over 20 years in the Tang before dying on an attempt to return to Japan. Reischauer, Ennin’s Diary, 3n7. See also, Arthur Waley, The Real Tripitaka and Other Pieces (1952; repr., New York: Routledge, 1952), 169. 174 opposition to the government, through some trickery he escaped his designation as shortterm monk and reintegrated into the government system for visiting monks.80 Since Buddhist practitioners and governments generally emphasized the compatibility of their cosmologies and goals, this was an interesting case of rupture, which Ennin never directly confronted. This challenge that this conflict presents was ignored, except as a practical problem of how to stay in the Tang so that he could fulfill his Buddhist goals. It is not particularly revealing except when looked at in light of Ennin’s response to the Huichang persecution. In contrast, the letters that Ennin wrote to the Tang government emphasize the compatibility of the governmental and Buddhist worldview and focus on the ways that Buddhist travel and exchange enhance the political centrality of China. Ennin’s interactions with the bureaucracy and their general support of him and his mission show the broad consensus concerning the role of Buddhism in the Tang and its role in supporting and legitimizing the imperial state. Conclusion Ennin’s records of his interactions with the Tang bureaucracy served several purposes. The primary reasons were practical. His journal served as a useful reference during his time in the Tang, for noting taboo characters, providing reusable letter formats and precedents, and a history of his interaction with the Tang bureaucracy. These records could also serve similar functions for Japanese monks following in Ennin’s footsteps and 80 Initially, Ennin was ambiguous about why he was abandoned, but when he was questioned by the Tang police he made up a story about being put ashore because he was sick. This seems to work, except that after this first attempt, he was returned to the embassy ships since they were still close to the Tang coast. Eventually, when he was abandoned at the Sillan cloisters, Ennin’s letters made it seems like it was unintentional, and the letters from monks at the cloister were more ambiguous, suggesting they suspected Ennin’s real reasons for wanting to stay. In modern retellings of the story, this detail is often inaccurately represented, with later commentators accepting Ennin’s story that he was somehow unintentionally left behind. See, for example, DDB s.v. “Ennin.” 175 traveling through the Tang. Additionally, because of the prestige of the Tang bureaucracy, all of this information was potentially useful for Heian rulers as they attempted to replicate its successes in Japan. My exposition of Ennin’s letters adds to the existing work on letter writing by emphasing the persuasive and rhetorical requirements of such letters when they were soliciting decisions from bureaucrats. How Ennin argued his case to travel seems to have been crucial in having his requests approved. Inclusion of these types of letters into our consideration of letter formats also widens the genre. Overall, these letters provide a vivid sense of the texture of Tang bureaucracy and how it was mediated through the written forms. Because it was based on Literary Sinitic, literate elites from throughout East Asia were able to participate and be counted members of this graphic community. These written forms constituted another form of cultural technology that was material, reproducible, and widely diffused. More specifically, Ennin’s journal also affirms the ability of a Heian monk to fully participate in the ritually, textually ordered system of the Tang court, confirming the Heian courts’ comparable level of civilization. This ability to interact successfully with the Tang court affirms Ennin’s individual cultural abilities and cultural capital. With the exception of the Huichang persecution, Ennin’s relationship with the Tang bureaucracy supports the understanding of the monastic establishment as a part of the imperial bureaucracy. The one moment of conflict between Ennin’s Buddhist desire for pilgrimage and the requirements of the Tang government is relatively minor. That it is so quickly glossed over by Ennin and ignored or even misrepresented in subsequent sources confirms the consensus view of the ultimate compatibility of the imperial and Buddhist 176 systems. Thus Ennin’s records of the Tang bureaucracy are not an anomaly in the spiritual record of his pilgrimage, but an integral part of his experience. Ennin’s Buddhism was always mediated through imperial interests and concerns. The concept of culture as technology provides another lens for understanding the relationship between Buddhism and the government. As we have shown in previous chapters, Buddhist ritual practices can be understood as a form of cultural technology, with the accompanying emphasis on functionality, material practices, and transferability. The state governments valued Buddhist monks for the religious services that they provided, both this worldly and otherworldly. As ritual specialists, monks were worthy of the government’s support and sponsorship, parallel, in many ways, to the civil bureaucracy. Their mastery of and participation in the bureaucratic forms and their cultural literacy confirmed this equivalence. Ennin’s record confirms this for himself as an individual and for the Heian court that he represents. 177 Chapter 5. Ennin’s Maps: Inscription of Imperial and Sacred Geographies Ennin's journal functions as a map for future pilgrims, both those who would actually travel to China and those who would journey there vicariously through the text. As a map, the journal is inscribed with complex coded systems that represent the physical landscape outside the text. Every kind of map has a particular perspective, which clarifies some aspects and obscures others, shaping the landscape it describes. Like medieval Christian maps that placed Jerusalem at the center of the universe, premodern East Asian maps often privileged cosmology over cartology, blurring the boundaries between mundane and sacred geographies.1 In The Classic of Mountains and Seas (Shanhai jing ´"ð), an ancient Chinese gazetteer, the narrator travels without pause from the edges of the known world to mythical peaks peopled with immortals.2 Even when more accurate cartography and maps were introduced from the West, cosmologically oriented maps remained compelling and continued to be used, because maps were not just tools for travel, but expressed cosmological truths and were embedded in larger structures that were not so easily changed.3 Maps were even used devotionally. In the margin of on an old map based on Xuanzang's (Z[) Great Tang Record of the West (LjåÕÝ), a religious copyist wrote, “With prayer in my heart for the rise of Buddhism in posterity, I engage myself in making this copy, wiping my eyes filled with age and feeling as if I were traveling through India.”4 Thus ideologically charged, maps 1 Elizabeth Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas: Representations of Sacred Geography (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 1999), 26. 2 English translation, Anne Birrell, The Classic of Mountains and Seas (New York: Penguin, 1999). 3 Nobuo Muroga and Kazutaka Unno, “The Buddhist World Map in Japan and Its Contact with European Maps,” Imago Mundi 16 (1962): 52. 4 Quoted in Muroga, “The Buddhist World Map,” 51. 178 were also sites of political and religious conflict and negotiation. For example, in 1339, a time when the Yuan dynsasty was threatening Japan militarily, Kitabake Chikafusa (½] ÿg 1293-1354) consciously chose a Buddhist geographic paradigm over a Chinese one, because the Buddhist map marginalized China.5 In Ennin’s journal, his prosaic observations about the route and the people he encountered stand out against the supernatural, cultural and Buddhist lore. More subtly, the journal interweaves the two dominant fields within which Ennin moves, the imperial and Buddhist. As a Buddhist monk sent by the Heian court, Ennin was invested in the coordination of the two systems, and this is reflected in his journal. As a whole, the journal participated in the contemporaneous redefinition of China as Buddhist holy land in order to mesh the imperial vision of China’s centrality with a sometimes dissonant Buddhist cosmology. One axis around which these two cultural maps converged was Mt. Wutai (е´) in northeastern China. The integration of Mt. Wutai into the imperial cosmology in the Tang is closely intertwined with the introduction and development of esoteric Buddhism. Although Ennin’s foundational contributions to Japanese esoteric Buddhism are usually described in terms of texts, lineages, and ritual techniques, Ennin was also responsible for introducing new ideas about sacred space. Ennin accomplished this primarily through his account of Mt. Wutai, his introduction of esoteric mandalas, and his development of Mt. Hiei (²³´) with sacred structures modeled after those on Mt. Wutai. By the end of the Heian period, these new concepts had become central to Japanese Buddhism. Unlike some of his continental predecessors’ records, Ennin’s 5 Muroga, “The Buddhist World Map,” 52. 179 journal never sets out an explicit cosmology, in either Buddhist or imperial terms. Yet, as a daily record, his journal is permeated with the cultural signposts of both systems. The Buddhist cultural landscape of monasteries and sacred mountains overlaps with the imperial order of imperial highways, post stations, and checkpoints. In order to understand how these issues play out in Ennin’s journal, I begin with an overview of the relationship between Buddhist and imperial systems in Asia. Then, following Ennin on his travels to Mt. Wutai, I examine his implicit attitudes towards travel and the landscape, manifest in the details he chose to record. When Ennin reaches Mt. Wutai, I analyze how the sacred space was structured and how Ennin’s account interacts with that structure. In the final section, I examine the impact of Ennin’s journal on the development of sacred space in Japan. Buddhism and Imperial Systems in Asia From when they first set out from northern India, Buddhist missionaries connected peoples and states. The need for Buddhist material goods—such as texts, statues, ritual implements, and relics—motivated travel and trade and augmented interstate relationships. The introduction of Buddhism into China followed the trade routes through Central Asia, and the spread of Buddhism in China counteracted the classical Chinese tendency towards cultural solipsism by generating interest in the Indian subcontinent and its culture.6 Chinese Buddhist pilgrims to India encouraged diplomatic 6 Tansen Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade: The Realignment of Sino-Indian Relations, 600-1400 (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2003). 180 and economic exchange.7 Buddhism provided a cultural common denominator that facilitated other kinds of cultural exchange. For example, Buddhist monks were important intermediaries in creating successful alliances with central Asian states against Tibet, or dealing with threats from Central Asia8 The story is similar for cultural exchange between China, the Korean peninsula, and Japan. Initially, the introduction of Buddhism to the Korean peninsula and from the peninsular states to Japan created another cultural tie between the emerging states and was a powerful new ideology in support of their respective central governments. Later, when Japan began interacting with the continent directly, Buddhist monks played a central role in the Japanese appropriation of continental culture. Monks’ scholarly and cultural achievements made them ideal cultural envoys and students. Peninsular monks were also active participants in East Asian Buddhism and made significant contributions; some traveling as far as India. 9 In early Japan, Buddhist monasteries were integrated into imperial space already conceptualized according to the continental model. The building of the Great Buddha at the T#dai monastery (?L±) and the creation of the provincial temple system successfully co-opted existing local monasteries and Buddhist communities into an imperial order to create legitimacy for the central government and integrate the realm 7 Between 619 and 753, there were over 50 embassies between India and China. Xuanzang met King Harsa of Kanauj, who questioned him about the ruler of China. Subsequently King Harsa sent an embassy to China, beginning two decades of regular contact. Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 16-21. 8 Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 24, 34-5. 9 Robert E. Buswell, Currents And Countercurrents: Korean Influences On The East Asian Buddhist Traditions (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2005). One of the main primary sources is Yijing's (# ó) Biography of Eminent Monks Who Went to the Western World in Search of the Law During the Tang Dynasty (Datang xiyu qiufa gaoseng zhuan LjåYÙÚ•èž ), translated in Latika Lahiri, Chinese Monks in India (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1986), 18, 21, 47. 181 politically, culturally, and economically.10 The monasteries were outposts of continental culture in a largely unassimilated countryside. Built according to foreign techniques and often under the direction of foreign craftsmen, they had tile roofs even earlier than the imperial palace.11 Filled with scriptures written in Literary Sinitic, the monasteries played a significant role in bringing continental culture and technology to a greater percentage of the population. This was as true in the central regions as in the provinces. In all of these ways Buddhist monasteries provided tangible links to continental culture.12 When we consider the impact of Buddhism in Japan, before considering immaterial concepts such as reincarnation, we must pay attention to how these concepts were firmly embodied in a range of material culture and practices, such as temple architecture, statues, sutra scrolls, rituals, and chanting. An example of a significant material cultural technology was the linking of the provincial temples through the imperial highway system, another key component of the centralization and integration of the realm. The highways reordered the existing local spaces, including temples, and were both a practical necessity and a material manifestation of the new symbolic order. Sachiko Takeda’s “Roads in the Tenn"centered Polity” explores this connection and I summarize her main arguments here as 10 Joan Piggott, The Emergence of Japanese Kingship (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997) Kim Hyun Koo, "A Study of Korea-Japan Relations in Ancient Times: Centering on the Taika Reforms and the Formation of Cooperation among Silla, Japan, and Tang China," Korea Journal (October 1989): 18-27; Yamamoto Tadanao and Walter Edwards, “Early Buddhist Temples in Japan: Roof-Tile Manufacture and the Social Basis of Temple Construction,” World Archaeology 27, no. 2 (1995): 336-353. 12 Even in China, Buddhist monasteries played a unique role in introducing new material culture and practices, such as chairs, tea, sugar, etc. John Kieschnick, The Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003). Similarly, Yijing’s disdain for many aspects of Chinese daily practices versus Indian must have come as a shock to those who were accustomed to thinking themselves as completely superior to foreign cultures. I-Tsing (Yijing), A Record of the Buddhist Religion as Practiced in India and the Malay Archipelago, trans. J. Takakusu (Taipei: Ch'eng Wen, 1970) (accessed online via google books). 11 182 necessary background to my subsequent discussion of Ennin’s travels in the Tang.13 As Joan Piggott explains in her introduction to Takeda’s article, Highways provided a means whereby the courtly center’s integrative functions—as apical ordinator, culture source, and information coordinator—penetrated the countryside. Roads facilitated the diffusion of courtly etiquette, written language, and other practices, while serving to distinguish the tenn"-centered official sphere from local, unofficial spheres. And in addition to metaphorically representing the tenn"’s courtly world, the circuit courts carried foreign emissaries and agents of the royal center whose dress, behavior, and literacy demonstrated the tenn"’s authority and preeminence. Official highways served thus to produce a worldview, a mentalité, that confirmed the tenn"’s capital as the center of civilization.14 For example, peasants paying taxes and foreign embassies were required to use the highway system as a way of demonstrating the pervasive authority of the tenn", even though travel by ship would have been much more efficient. For those who had little cultural common ground with the increasingly Sinified elites, the highways and Buddhism were two key links.15 For peasants, the trip to the capital carrying tax goods might have been their only trip out of the confines of their local community and would have had a lasting psychological impact. Takeda conjectures that, By carrying goods on their backs or on their horses, they bore the weight of the goods while actually experiencing the trip to the tenn"’s capital. That experience, engraved in commoners’ minds, would have Sachiko Takeda, “Roads in the Tenn"-centered Polity,” Capital and Countryside in Japan, 300-1180: Japanese Historians Interpreted in English, trans. Joan R. Piggott (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University East Asia Program, 2006). 14 Takeda, “Roads in the Tenn"-centered Polity,” 149. 15 Summarizing Ishimoda Sh#, Takeda argues that “Between Nara period elites—who read historical documents and classical texts in Chinese, wrote royal edicts in Chinese, owned Chinese classics, and became sinicized in even in their personal thought patterns—and commoners, there was not a single shared practice, despite their common residence in the islands and their shared language.” Takeda, “Roads in the Tenn"-centered Polity,” 154. By way of comparison, I think it is also a mistake to assume that commoners in China were any more invested in classical Chinese culture than the commoners of Japan. Although they spoke some form of Chinese, it may or may not have been mutually intelligible with the official language. Ennin’s indifferent reception by many of the commoners he has to rely on suggests that they may not have felt particularly integrated into the imperial system. 13 183 strengthened their self-consciousness as subjects who owed tribute to the tenn"’s government.16 Although this idealized system, where practice and symbolism perfectly coincided, was eventually abandoned in favor of more efficient modes of transportation, from this description, the similarity between this experience and a religious pilgrimage is clear. Pilgrimage to sacred sites also creates a sense of a larger community of believers, both in terms of the feelings of communitas between the pilgrims, but also creating a sense of connection to a much larger geographical area than that of their more limited daily experience.17 Thus Ennin’s experience in Tang China as a member of the Heian embassy was, like the travel of peasants to the Heian court, an enactment of the larger East Asian community that instantiated it in his mind and in the mind of his contemporaries. Likewise, Ennin’s experiences with the Sillan monks at Mt. Chi, and his travel to Mt. Wutai performed an identical role for the East Asian Buddhist community. As a member of a tiny minority for whom such a journey was possible, Ennin was able to recreate that journey and the concomitant sense of community for others through his journal. Within Japan as well, Takeda explains how Buddhist temples, once integrated by the highway system, became an important component of the imperial system. Architecturally they reinforced the pervasiveness of the continental court culture. Again Takeda postulates, In the classical period temples in the provinces were scattered along official roads and main travel routes, at key nodes for communication with the Kinai. Not only post stations but also the tile-roofed temples that 16 Takeda, “Roads in the Tenn"-centered Polity,” 162. Victor Turner and Edith L. B. Turner, Image and Pilgrimage in Christian Culture (New York: Columbia University Press, 1978). 17 184 bordered them architectonically bore witness to the homogenous culture of the Kinai and its network of highway circuits.18 These temples were also a symbol of the continuity of the East Asian Buddhist community. When Ennin returned to Japan, he was responsible for the contruction of new buildings on Mt. Hiei modeled on those of Mt. Wutai. This literal reconstruction of Mt. Wutai in Japan created another tangible, architectural link between the two states. The intended audience for this architectural display was not only the Japanese officials and commoners, but also foreign visitors. Although widely ignored, regulations required that foreign embassies approaching the capital do so along one of the designated highways, rather than by sea. Accordingly, Takeda explains that the “royal edicts of 806 [commanded that] the exteriors of the station houses were to be transformed solely in expectation of the appreciative gaze of foreign guests.”19 Official embassies from foreign states provided legitimacy and political capital for the newly fashioned state, thus the political role of the highways was not only internal, but also interstate. Indeed the Heian system was based on the Tang and its symbolic meaning would have been immediately apparent to any East Asian visitor. The traffic along any given route reiterated these same themes, traveling officials, either local or foreign, commoners bearing taxes, and monks. Among these, the monks stand out for their ambiguous relationship to the others. Buddhism was one of the few areas of cultural common ground between the elites and commoners; Buddhist monks were liminal figures who moved freely between the center and the provinces, court and commoners. Buddhism also provided some of the only non-official reasons for travel, such as proselytizing, visiting patrons, studying with a distant master, or borrowing texts. 18 19 Takeda, “Roads in the Tenn"-centered Polity,” 159. Takeda, “Roads in the Tenn"-centered Polity,” 159. 185 Travel was such an integral part of Buddhist monastic life that it frequently appeared as metaphor for existence. Buddhist monks also contributed to the imperial and local infrastructures through building bridges, wells, and shelters for travelers.20 As a senior monk, Ennin had extensive experience with the Heian imperial system. Before traveling to China, Ennin had traveled to Eastern Japan with Saich#. 21 These experiences of the imperial highway system in Heian Japan shaped his perception of the Tang system, on which it was based. Ennin’s Account of the Symbolic Geography of China Ennin’s depiction of his travels through the Tang Empire builds upon this Heian ideological framework. In a previous chapter, I examined his struggles to obtain permission to travel. Although I will not revisit those here, they could also be considered part of the imperial road map that Ennin sketched for future travelers. In the following section, I examine the details of Ennin’s actual travels, his lodgings in official inns, at monasteries, and with commoners, and show how the imperial and Buddhist maps emerge and intersect. While traveling, much of what Ennin recorded was practical information that he needed to travel and that would have been useful to others traveling the same route. He generally tried to find out about his route before he left and wrote down place names and distances in his journal. He also recorded the names of places along his route and the distances he traveled. And he also included subjective details such as how he was treated 20 For example, Gy#ki’s work is particularly well known. See, Jonathan Morris Augustine, Buddhist Hagiographies in Early Japan Images of Compassion in the Gy"ki Tradition (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2005), 84-96. 21 Saeki, Ennin, 42-3. 186 by his hosts. These details, in and off themselves, are ideologically weak, but their collective effect is the reiteration of the symbolic system of which they are a part, both imperial and Buddhist. Likewise, in his commentary Ennin reinforces these universal perspectives against various local challenges. Evidence in the journal suggests Ennin gathered information about a place before he traveled there. For example, when he was in Yangzhou (ÀÂ) and was planning to travel to the Tientai mountains, he met a merchant and asked for information about the Guoqing monastery (W¼±) there.22 Although Ennin notes that “he did much to dispel our anxieties” (6:v^), the details of the conversation are not recorded. Later that month, Ennin met a monk from the Qianfu monastery (³~±) and “inquired and obtained information about the Chang’an, the capital of China” (ÕÔ5Ã-Fj_ `).23 The purpose of gaining this information was practical as he intended to travel to these places and needed to plan accordingly. There are also places in the journal when Ennin provides a comprehensive list of information about the area he was in, usually gathered from an official. The first of these is about Yangzhou in his entry on 838.9.13. At the Mt. Chi cloister (Ä´Å), Ennin recorded the political units of Jingzhou (ÉÂ), his new location.24 The next entry, dated fifteen days later, records the distance from Mt. Chi to Mt. Wutai giving the distance between each major prefecture and town along the way. 25 On 840.3.15, he provides information about Laizhou (aÂ). Distances and the administrative units were essential 22 838.8.9. 838.8.30. 24 839.8.16. 25 839.9.1. 23 187 pieces of information. In a society where travel was a rare event for most people, possession of this kind of geographical information was restricted and politically significant.26 In Yangzhou, Ennin also noted the number of monasteries and soldiers. Although this may seem less directly relevant to his travels, these two statistics are both essential details for imperial and Buddhist maps. Likewise, juxtaposing these details in the same paragraph suggests that the number of monasteries was as important an indication of the power of the Tang as the number of soldiers. Even more convincing and of greater use to later travelers is the record Ennin keeps of the places he passes through and the distances he travels. This record was also useful when officials asked Ennin to provide a summary of his travels.27 The mere act of providing concrete information about China adds authenticity to the journal As he traveled, Ennin recorded the names of the people with whom he stayed and their attitudes towards him and towards Buddhism. It is unlikely that this information would be of use to later travelers, and at first glance it seems to have little to do with either imperial or Buddhist geographies. As a monk with imperial travel papers, Ennin seems to have been entitled to certain privileges. He could lodge anywhere he wanted and his host was expected to provide soy sauce, vinegar, and pickled vegetables.28 Most of the time, they generously complied, but if they refused to provide any of these or requested payment, Ennin condemned them. 26 Along with the head of General Fu, a map of the state of Yan was a gesture of submission significant enough to allow the assassin Jing Ke into the presence the Qin emperor. Sima Qian, Records of the Grand Historian, trans. Burton Watson (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996), 174. 27 For example, 840.3.1. 28 Ennin asks for condiments, but the host has none, so “we could not eat either soup or rice” (bcdô5). 840.2.27. On 840.3.1, Ennin lets himself into a house without announcing himself and frightens his host. 188 Ennin’s comments reflect his status both as a Buddhist monk and as an imperially sponsored traveler. The adjectives Ennin uses to evaluate his hosts follow Buddhist criteria. His most common positive evaluations are “courteous” (ef), “religious” (» m±), “upright” (g±), and “quiet” (±5). His negative evaluations are “lacking courtesy” (8Ü), “niggardly” (¸h), “not religious” (8m±), and “base” or common (i). Most of these terms, as well as his more descriptive evaluations of his hosts point to an overlapping set of criteria of ritual propriety (Ü) and Buddhism. Ennin is critical of his hosts’ failure to uphold what he saw as the proper courtesy for a guest and for a Buddhist monk. Their failure is a double failure against both of these moral systems. Ennin does not distinguish between these two sets of standards, but unconsciously fuses them together. Most of these terms have Buddhist connotations and can be found in a Buddhist dictionary. “Religious” (»m±) and “non-religious” (8m±) refer to someone who is still a layman, but has begun to understand the truth of Buddhism.29 The positive evaluations of “upright” (g±) and “quiet” (±5) may not necessarily be Buddhist, but have strong Buddhist connotations. Likewise, one of the characters in the two-character word “niggardly” (¸h) is one of the six obstructions.30 The failure to impart freely of their substance shows that they are unenlightened and overly attached to worldly things. On the other hand, Ennin shows little introspection concerning his own irritation at how he was treated. 29 30 DDB, s.v. “m±.” DDB, s.v. “h.” 189 Another possible reason Ennin recorded names was that the services provided for traveling monks counted as a kind of donation to Buddhism. Just as the names of donors were scrupulously recorded, Ennin felt compelled to record the names of all those who helped or hindered him on his pilgrimage to ensure that they would receive the karmic rewards for their actions. When his hosts provided him with vegetables and condiments, Ennin recognizes this as a donation to the Buddhist cause. The characters translated by Reischauer as “provide” (j,¾) are both used to connote donations to Buddhism, as opposed to merely “give” (õ), which Ennin uses when he was provided something by other monks.31 When Ennin did not rely on commoners but took advantage of Buddhist or official lodgings, we again find that Buddhist and official worlds overlapped and were at times indistinguishable. Sometimes monasteries were so filled with official travelers that there was no room for monks, or in one instance a former monastery had simply been converted into an inn.32 On Ennin’s trip from Mt. Wutai to Chang-an, he had an entirely different experience. The route was heavily traveled by monks and there were many monasteries, so Ennin did not need to rely on commoners for lodging. Also, he was guided by a Tang monk, Yiyuan (義圓), who had traveled the route many times and so Ennin did not need to pay as much attention to the practical details of the trip. Although Ennin recorded the places they passed through and the distances traveled, there is no record of him gathering information beforehand, probably because it was no longer necessary. 31 Instances of “j” and “¾” from laymen: 840.3.18, 840.3.19, 840.4.19, 840.4.22. Instances of “õ” from monks, 840.4.21, 840.4.23. 32 A dilapidated monastery was converted into ordinary living quarters. 840.2.27. Ennin describes another monastery that is falling apart. 840.3.15. 190 Seeing the Sites: Signs on the Historical and Religious Landscape In addition to the practical information listed above, Ennin also transcribed local lore. This tendency finds its fullest expression at Mt. Wutai, where almost every peak and valley was spiritually significant. These stories map the cultural, historical, or religious geographies onto the physical geography. Sometimes they were literally inscribed on the place on a sign; other times the inscription is metaphorical. Ennin’s own reiteration of these stories in his journal is itself a reinscription of this landscape for his Japanese audience for whom it was unfamiliar. The lore Ennin recorded is generally Buddhist along with some more general cultural or historical lore. Although much of it is historically problematic, Ennin does not express any skepticism and treats these details as historical fact. Although Reischauer is dismissive of these legends, they are worth examining for what they reveal about the mindset of the Tang and Heian. As with the geographical knowledge, accuracy was less important than the cultural and religious meanings of the landscape. When Ennin lists the monasteries in Yangzhou, he singles out the monastery Ganjin (–n) was from and a pagoda connected to the famous literary anthology, the Wenxuan (]- Selections of Literature). Although this attribution is problematic, its accuracy is less important than establishing a concrete connection in the journal with this hallowed classic of continental literature.33 33 838.11.29. Ennin mistakenly reports that it was authored (or compiled, since it is an anthology) (ß) there, but then gives the name of the author of a well-known commentary as the compiler. Reischauer, Ennin’s Diary, 60n259. 191 Another example of such cultural lore: Ennin reports that the nearby Mo-ye (« k), an island off the coast near Mt. Chi, is where Gan Jiang of Wu (&lù) made his famous sword, also called Mo-ye.34 In China, the prestige of the historical tradition created a compelling tendency to map the historical landscape onto local geography.35 Since Ennin tried to establish connections with this larger tradition, he had no reason to be skeptical about what he was told. Similarly, Ennin reports that the Qin emperor built bridges and died in the Mt. Chi region and his hemp slippers were still there.36 Here Ennin reveals his source, hallowed by the Chinese tradition, “I met an old man who told me of this, and thus I came to know it” (ûNP'mû59d).37 Later, when he reached Wendengxian (]¢Ÿ), the subprefectural seat, Ennin retells a story about the Qin emperor founding a monastery in the area, creating another link between imperial and Buddhist pasts.38 Again, Reischauer’s comment that Buddhism had not yet been introduced to China at this time misses the more interesting point of why these stories were told and retold, and Ennin’s purpose in recording them in his journal.39 Along the way to Mt. Wutai, Ennin records other legends that connect the imperial and Buddhist historical geographies. For example, on 840.4.3, he copied from a wooden sign stories associating Emperor Xiaowen of Wei and Emperor Wen of the Han 34 839.6.29. The kingdom of Wu was located in the lower Yangtze basin. Also, in the original legend, the sword is named after his wife. Probably, the coincidental correspondence of the names of the island and the sword gave rise to stories explaining a historical connection. 36 839.7.23. 37 839.7.23. 38 840.2.23. 39 840.2.23n679. 35 192 (']>) with noteworthy geographical features along the way.40 These examples map imperial history onto the sacred Buddhist landscape surrounding Mt. Wutai. Imperial prestige adds another level of interest and holiness to the landscape already charged in Buddhist terms. In other examples, the imperial and Buddhist stories converge and emperors are responsible for the sacralization of the landscape in Buddhist terms. The presentation of these culturally, historically and religiously coded landscapes had a slightly different meaning for Ennin’s Japanese audience. Although they had appropriated continental cultural history and Buddhism, they generally did not have direct access to this historicized topography. Ennin’s journal answers this dilemma in two ways: by providing vicarious access to the continental landscape and by providing a model for similar creative inscription of the landscape in Japan. Although most of the supernatural stories Ennin recorded were from the area around Mt. Wutai, his record includes a few examples from other monasteries as well. These narratives consistently portray the antiquity of Chinese Buddhism and validity of China as a Buddhist holy land. For example, when Ennin was staying at Mt. Chi, a Korean monk took him to see some statues that were unearthed at a nearby monastery. A monk had a dream that revealed that there were statues and relics buried near an ancient pagoda. Because of his faith he was chosen to unearth them.41 Unearthing statues from an earlier Buddhist age gave Chinese Buddhism greater historical depth, literally naturalizing it in the Chinese soil. Chinese Buddhism was reimagined not as a foreign introduction, but as a rediscovery of a hallowed past, already contained in the existing 40 On Mt. Yao, there is a shrine supposedly established by King Yao, which always provides rain. 840.4.3. A few days later Ennin describes a hole in a mountain which Emperor Xiaowen shot an arrow through. 840.7.6. 41 840.2.14. A similar story is recorded on 840.7.3. 193 Chinese geography, but forgotten, like so many other past legacies. The statues are layered into the earth in a way indistinguishable from China’s other revered pasts. This story and similar stories take an established mechanism of connecting to the past— excavation and discovery of artifacts—and redeploy it in a Buddhist context.42 In addition, the discovery of relics in China was also a recurring theme in the imagination of China as a Buddhist holy land.43 Ennin recorded several stories where relics are discovered instead of statues.44 Both relics and statues function as articles that symbolize the presence of the Buddha.45 In a concrete way, the statue or the relic is the Buddha. The existence of these in China from the distant past ipso facto establishes China as a Buddhist land. Tansen Sen makes a strong argument for the special significance for relics in Chinese Buddhism: Indeed, the close proximity between the Buddhist relics and Chinese adherents realized one of the basic purposes of relic veneration: the bridging of the temporal and spatial gap between the followers and the sites and times of the founder of their faith; which, in turn, sustained the establishment of a Buddhist world in a foreign land.46 Sen divides the history of relic worship in China into four stages. The first, in the third and fourth centuries linked the presence of relics with the legendary stupa-building activities of King A&oka. China is considered to be part of the continent of Jambudv*pa and integrated into the Buddhist cosmological map. Indian and foreign monks played a key role in the cult of relics, using them to “establish the presence of the Buddha and 42 Near to a household where Ennin stayed the night, there was an old city where ancient artifacts came to light whenever it rained. 840.3.18. 43 Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 57-76. 44 Ennin describes a bunch of relics he sees, including the buried remains of a pagoda built by A&oka. 840.7.26; see also 840.5.17. 45 Kieschnick, Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture, 29-52. 46 Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 57. 194 legitimize the spread of Buddhist doctrine in China.” In the second stage, from the fourth to sixth centuries, relics and stupas both “helped bridge temporal and spatial gaps separating the Buddhist worlds of India and China” and they were also used to bolster political authority during this period of disunity. In the third stage, in the mid seventh and eighth centuries, relics became associated with new, exclusively Chinese practices, such as self-mutilation. Relics were “venerated mostly for their therapeutic and meritbestowing values.”47 Finally, in the fourth stage esoteric masters recontextualized relics in their new ritual program. As Ennin’s examples show, each stage in the incorporation of relics supplements rather than replaces the previous stage. The need for this kind of spatial and temporal bridge would be even more important for those further removed in the Korean peninsula or Japan. Although Japanese Buddhist relic worship has its own trajectory, the basic uses of establishing a connection with the historical Buddha and bolstering religious and political authority are consistent with Chinese practice.48 The discovery of relics in China establishes a preexisting Buddhist geography, that was then reinstantiated through the building of stupas to enshrine these relics. These stupas became Buddhist landmarks, as well as symbols of the righteousness and legitimacy of the sponsoring king, because, as the examples show, the discovery of relics was not coincidental but evidence of the faith of the finder. 47 Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 74-75. For more information on Japanese relic worship see Brian D. Ruppert, Jewel in the Ashes: Buddha Relics and Power in Early Medieval Japan (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2000). 48 195 Traveling to the Mountain: the Sacralization of Mount Wutai Given that mundane matters fill most of Ennin’s record, the case for the journal as a spiritual record rests primarily on his account of Mt. Wutai. Although Mt. Wutai was already a pilgrimage site for monks throughout Asia, from the Indian subcontinent to the Korean peninsula, Ennin was the first Japanese monk to travel there, return to Japan, and keep a record of his travels.49 It is obvious that it was not on the map for Japanese monks; originally even Ennin was not planning to go there. It was only after he debarked randomly on the Shandong (´?) peninsula, still hoping to get to Mount Tientai (,µ ´), that he changed his mind. Ennin explains his rationale as follows, Whenever we ask about the trip, [we are told that], it [Mt. Tientai] is an extremely far way to the south, but hear that, if we were to make a pilgrimage toward the north, we would find Mt. Wutai about two thousand-odd li from here. Thus the south is distant, but the north is close . . . In the course of conversation, I continually hear how wonderful are the holy sites of Mt. [Wu] Tai. I deeply rejoice that we are close to this holy region. For the time being, I am giving up my plan to go to Tientai and have decided to go to Wutai. (/ÔÇnoV©mp(Mïm o½Û+»Ð˜´„©ß1³ªq„§VM½O . . . brds„éï ˜´•t„u»f’„vçO-•Kwxo,µd¼„ø”ØИd J).50 Ennin only learned about the significance of Mt. Wutai and decided to go there after he had left the Japanese embassy and began to interact with Sillan monks, for whom Mt. Wutai was already an important destination. However, after Ennin and undoubtedly as a 49 Charles Holcombe describes a Korean monk who travels to Mt. Wutai and notes that such pilgrimages stimulated travel between East Asian states. Charles Holcombe, “Trade-Buddhism: Maritime Trade, Immigration, and the Buddhist Landfall in Early Japan,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 119 no. 2 (1999): 281. Ennin’s journal contains a record of Reisen, a Japanese monk who traveled there, but died near the mountain. There is also an account of Genb#’s having traveled there in the Shichidaiji junrei shiki from 1248, but this is hard to verify. See Shichidaiji junrei shiki ¢L±ÛÜyÝ, Nara kokuritsu bunkazai kenky!jo shiry# no.22 éé<æ]íãÞßMGz (Nara kokuritsu bunkazai kenky!jo éé< æ]íãÞßM, 1982), 70-2, 174-7; and Itabashi Rink# (Tomoyuki) {|}Ç, “Hajimete Godaisan ni nobotta nihons#” ~"‰Ðµ´x¢$|DEè , Nihon rekishi DEFG 82 (1955.3): 57. 50 839.7.23. 196 result of his travels and journal, Mt. Wutai became an important destination for Japanese monks traveling to China. This section will contextualize Ennin’s journal in the ongoing evolution of Mt. Wutai as a sacred site and Ennin’s role in importing these ideas about sacred geography into Japan. The history of sacred mountains in China begins long before the introduction of Buddhism. Sacred mountains were sites for sacrifice and were important points in the circuits of the emperors.51 Their sacredness stems from their unique topography. Mountains were associated with dragons, clouds, and rain, all important for an agricultural society.52 The Buddhist association with mountains in China is probably as old as Buddhism in China, but some important moments in this history are Huiyuan’s (•M) establishment of a monastery on Lushan (€´) and Zhiyi’s (h•) on Mt. Tientai.53 The establishment of monasteries in the mountains is a natural result of the consonance between the ancient Chinese tradition of retreat into nature to escape the mundane world and similar Buddhist ideas.54 Whereas the first sees in nature either numinous power or a manifestation of the Way, Buddhists seek after nature because it is peaceful and conducive to inner reflection. Buddhists also went to the mountains to encounter the unbelieving gods and convert them and thus enlist them as allies and protectors of Buddhism.55 From these beginnings, the significance of mountains in Chinese Buddhist thought was developed in conjunction with new forms of Buddhism, 51 Wei-cheng Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain: Buddhist Monastic Architecture in Mount Wutai During the Tang Dynasty 618-907” (PhD diss., University of Michigan, 2006), 94-96. 52 Raoul Birnbaum, “Thoughts on T’ang Buddhist Mountain Traditions and Their Context,” Tang Studies 2 (1984): 5. 53 Birnbaum, “T’ang Buddhist Mountain Traditions,” 6. 54 David Ralph Quinter, Portrait of K!kai as a Mountain-forest Saint (Bangkok, Thailand: Suksit Siam, 1989). 55 Lin describes pre-Buddhist mountain worship in China and his footnotes include many additional sources. Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 95-97. 197 such as esoteric Buddhism, and legends of sacred mountains from the Buddhist canon were transposed onto existing sacred mountains. Mt. Wutai was unique in that its significance as a Buddhist mountain far surpassed the importance of any pre-Buddhist mountain cult. In fact, prior to its designation as the home of the bodhisattva Mañju&r* (jp:Monju ch:Wenshu ]Q), it may not have been considered a sacred mountain at all. However, once that association was established, as is often the case, the connection was projected back into Chinese antiquity to such revered figures as the sage King Yao (Hû) and King Mu of the Zhou ('‚û). Then, consistent with Chinese moral historiography, it declined under the Qin and was restored during the Han. The monks who introduced Buddhism to China at the request of Emperor Ming of the Han ('…>) supposedly traveled to Mt. Wutai after their audience with the emperor. In this way, the mountain was seamlessly integrated into China’s ancient history. The sources show little concern that the piling up of these multiple beginnings is contradictory, but instead view each as reaffirming the importance of the mountain. Finally, the mountain was connected to King Xiaowen of the Northern Wei, whose capital was close to the mountain.56 This marks the transition into actual history and the sponsorship and establishment of monasteries on Mt. Wutai by rulers whose connections with the mountain can be corroborated, if not verified, by reliable historical sources.57 After reunification by the Sui, Mt. Wutai was considered a sufficiently 56 Mary Anne Cartelli, “The Poetry of Mount Wutai: Chinese Buddhist Verse from Dunhuang” (PhD diss., Columbia University, 1999), 24. Lin notes that Wutai is first mentioned in imperial records in 564. Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 109. 57 Birnbaum, Cartelli, and Lin all provide summaries of the history of the development of Mt. Wutai and of imperial sponsorship. The most detailed account is provided in Chapter 2 of Cartelli's dissertation. Cartelli, “The Poetry of Mount Wutai.” 198 important site that Emperor Wen provided imperial patronage and established additional monasteries. In the Tang, Mt. Wutai was consistently patronized by the imperial family. In addition to these political connections, there are many stories of visits by famous monks and their encounters with Mañju&r*. The development of Chinese Mañju&r* worship and his increasing importance as a protector of the nation can be directly connected to the development of Mt. Wutai as a sacred site. The association of Mt. Wutai and Mañju&r* was based on sutras that describe Mañju&r* living on a mountain to the north of India that has five peaks and has snow even in the summer. Although this description undoubtedly pointed to somewhere in the Himalayas, Mt. Wutai also fit this description and was traditionally known as a place where snow could fall in the summer.58 Mañju&r*’s association with Mt. Wutai was then followed by the association of four other Bodhisattvas with different holy mountains in China, creating a Buddhist parallel to the existing five sacred mountains of China. A key element in Mt. Wutai’s sacralization was contextualizing it in existing historical and spiritual traditions. The mountain was incorporated into China’s hallowed past through the connections with ancient emperors. Likewise, the connections to canonical sutras incorporated the mountain into the Buddhist tradition. These two sources of legitimacy were then reinforced by pilgrimages, the accounts of these pilgrimages, imperial and private patronage, and the construction of monasteries and other monuments. All of these were mutually reinforcing. Patronage often involved establishing monasteries, which attracted more pilgrims, who wrote of their encounters, which increased the prestige of the site, increasing donations. 58 Mary Anne Cartelli, “On a Five-Colored Cloud: The Songs of Mount Wutai,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 124, no. 4 (2004): 738-9. 199 Although the Mt. Wutai cult had begun earlier, the unification of the country under the Sui and Tang facilitated its expansion throughout the empire and internationally. The emergence of the Tang created a new political center of gravity that affected all of the countries in the region and resulted in increasingly centralized states in Tibet, Korea, Japan, and elsewhere.59 Foreign embassies and the payment of tribute were significant components of Tang foreign policy, which encouraged greater interaction throughout the region, also spreading the fame of Mt. Wutai. Mary Anne Cartellis explains in her dissertation about the development of Mt. Wutai, Tang emperors had a special relationship with Mt. Wutai. They were particularly interested in strengthening the connection between the imperial family and the mountain, which is located in the Taiyuan region, the ancestral home of their clan.60 Of the Tang rulers, first Empress Wu Zetian (&6, r. 690-705) and later Daizong (\Ñ r. 762-79) were particularly active patrons and responsible for Mt. Wutai’s most significant monasteries.61 As mentioned earlier, there was a dialectical relationship between the fame of the mountain and government sponsorship. Wei-cheng Lin describes this dialectic in “Building a Sacred Mountain: Buddhist Monastic Architecture in Mount Wutai During the Tang Dynasty 618-907”: Prompted by (or as a result of) the rising fame of Mt. Wutai, indeed, officials were dispatched to the mountain around 661 to 663, to investigate the miraculous accounts, which were then documented in both textual and pictorial forms and reported back to the throne.62 59 Charles Holcombe, Genesis of East Asia, 221 B.C.-A.D. 907 (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2001). 60 Cartelli, “Poetry of Mount Wutai,” 25. 61 Cartelli, “Poetry of Mount Wutai,” 26, 28; Birnbaum, “T’ang Buddhist Mountain Traditions,” 8. 62 Wei-cheng Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain: Buddhist Monastic Architecture in Mount Wutai During the Tang Dynasty 618-907” (PhD diss., University of Michigan, 2006), 163. 200 These accounts then increased the fame of Mt. Wutai. In 699, to celebrate the completion of a new translation of the Flower Garland Sutra, Empress Wu formally renamed the central monastery, which housed the statue of Mañju&r* riding a lion, Da Huayan monastery (L¾ƒ± Great Flower Garland monastery). This conferral of special status corresponded to the monastery’s increasing significance in the mountain’s spiritual layout.63 Lin continues. In the second half of the Tang Mt. Wutai received a most impressive array of official patronage to restore aged structures and build anew. While a number of eminent monks from well-established sects arrived to build their patriarchic seats at the mountain, the monasteries at Mt. Wutai began to be subsumed in the larger monastic networks and the state hierarchical system.64 When Ennin decided to change his destination from Mt. Tientai to Wutai, the presence of a significant Tientai establishment on Mt. Wutai was an important component of his decision.65 Emperor Daizong supported esoteric master Amoghavajra’s (ô!) promotion of Mañju&r* as the protector of the nation and his development Mt. Wutai as a center for esoteric Buddhism.66 Part of this plan included reconfiguring the sacred layout with Jinge monastery (”Y±) as the new center of an esoteric-based pentad of monasteries.67 Although this system did not really outlast Daizong’s reign, Lin’s dissertation show how the layout of the various monasteries and the designation of the sacred peaks changed through the mountain’s history and were sites of conflict in negotiations over the 63 Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 163. Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 166. 65 839.7.23. 66 Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 202-3. 67 Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 214. 64 201 mountain’s significance.68 During Ennin's visit there, an imperial emissary arrived and sponsored maigre feasts at each of the monasteries.69 Other feasts were held for the emperor’s birthday celebration five days later.70 As the political history of Mt. Wutai shows, even after certain aspects of the mountain cult were widely accepted, the mountain’s particular significance and the configuration of its sacred sites continued to develop in response to various political and religious conditions. Lin argues that, “In this historical process the sacredness was never a priori and intrinsic to the property of Mt. Wutai’s natural terrain, but an elusive and fluid idea under constant redefinition.”71 As a cluster of sacred peaks, primarily along a single ridge, but also including adjacent peaks and valleys, the topography of Mt. Wutai was more malleable than a sacred mountain with more limited real estate. The location of the five sacred peaks shifted from time to time, as did the center. Lin describes how Chinese monasteries functioned as sacred space and how they sacralized Mt. Wutai. Lin contextualizes his account of Mt. Wutai in a more general history of the evolution of Buddhist architecture of China. Although it initially mirrored South Asian Buddhist architecture, which focused on the stupa as the center of worship, over time, the focus shifted to the Buddha hall and then to the monastery.72 As he discusses the sacred layout of Mt. Wutai, Lin argues that it functioned as a “metamonastery”; the quintessential form of Chinese Buddhist architecture writ large. As one example of this, on Mt. Wutai, the monasteries were the primary focus rather than the 68 Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 212. After that, the primacy of Dahuayan monastery (L¾Ø±) is reasserted and the mountain is structured according to ten holy mountains. 69 840.6.6. 70 840.6.11. See also Ian D. Chapman, “Carnival Canons: Calendars, Genealogy, and the Search for Ritual Cohesion in Medieval China” (PhD diss., Princeton University, 2007). 71 Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 176. 72 Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 14. 202 mountain itself. The mountain was not intrinsically sacred, but was made sacred through the divine presence of Mañju&r*, which was embodied in the monasteries with their statues and commemorative structures.73 It is also important to note that Mañju&r*’s presence was not eternal but had a historical beginning. This historicity of the sacred site provided an opening for Chinese Buddhists to insert themselves into Buddhist sacred history. Like Cartelli before him, Lin notes the importance of the concept of the end of the dharma (ÉÚ) in the conceptualization of Mt. Wutai. This idea was first introduced by Raoul Birnbaum in “Thoughts on T’ang Buddhist Mountain Traditions and Their Context”: The most significant point—vividly conveyed in the wide variety of textual and archeological materials I have surveyed so far—is the repeated assertion that Wu-t’ai shan is the one place on earth where the truth can be full manifest, unfettered and unhindered, in the form of Mañju&r* Bodhisattva. At Wu-t’ai shan one can find an antidote to the particular ills, the particular limitations of the age.74 Here too, the sacredness of the mountain is specifically historicized. Although the Buddhist truths are universal, different ages have different spiritual requirements that require different spiritual medicines. Historicizing Buddhism in this way provides an opening for Chinese Buddhists to insert themselves into Buddhist sacred history and argue for a special relevance of their relatively recently developed sacred sites. The same strategies were also employed in Japan by Buddhists arguing for the relevance of their particular sets of practices and ideas in relation to other Buddhist sects. Lin argues that this historicity of the monastery and the meta-monastery of the sacred mountain can only be fully experienced through representations of the mountain. 73 Ennin reports a common story of a disguised Mañju&r* coming to the mountain and engaging in negotiation with Emperor Xiaowen to own the mountain. Although he is only granted the amount of land that can fit under a mat, he miraculously enlarges the mat to cover the entire area. 840.7.2. 74 Birnbaum, “T’ang Buddhist Mountain Traditions,” 11. 203 The layered, far flung significance of Mt. Wutai was not directly accessible to the pilgrim, except as mediated through the visual and textual accounts of the mountain, which are literally inscribed on the landscape. Lin explains, The foremost fundamental existence, the material structure, is understood at once synchronically, with other monastic structures and diachronically with its deposits (or layers) of history and memory. The layers of meaning, geographical, historical, and imaginary of each monastery in its particular locality in the sacred geography are mediated and negotiated through the textual and visual narrative and structured into a coherent unity, which gives rise to an understanding of Mt. Wutai, the complete significance of which can only be imagined and accessed in representation.75 This concept is useful because it explains how pilgrims made sense of the mountain’s complex history and many sacred sites and then created visual and narrative texts that recreated that coherence for other audiences. Even those who made actual pilgrimages to Wutai had their experiences shaped by the preexisting narratives. Lin explains how the logic of the pilgrimages and, perhaps more importantly, representations of pilgrimages created another level of coherence between the various sites, essentially by reinscribing the sacralizing narratives of the monastery: Each major monastery at the mountain is a particular locus in a specific location, wherein specific events were observed, signs searched, and history and memory recalled, and building erected in different times create layers of past and present evocations peculiar to the monastery. But the experienced immediacy of the pilgrim at each monastery is also contextualized in the new narrative time and space of the pilgrimage, which makes each locus incomplete without the others.76 Although Ennin was not the first Japanese monk to reach Mt. Wutai, he was the first to record his pilgrimage and bring that record back to Japan, introducing to Japan this powerful textual strategy. 75 76 Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 227. Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 240. 204 Both through his journal and in the other records of Mt. Wutai, Ennin introduced new ways of conceptualizing sacred space to Japan. Although similar ideas were already at work in the Japanese conceptualization of holy space and mountain-monastery complexes, none had been developed to the same extent as Mt. Wutai. In the end, Ennin’s narrative provided a template for the future development of Mt. Hiei and other sacred mountains in Japan. Ennin's Account of Mt. Wutai Ennin’s journal also provided a new narrative for Mt. Wutai. His narration made the experience available to others, turning an ephemeral experience into a tangible record, a form of cultural capital that could be preserved and passed on. Unlike many religious texts, Ennin’s record is not didactic. He never pulls back to explain or contextualize. He provides background information as necessary, but even this, often reported as conversations with people he met, fits into the structure of the narrative. Overall, this strategy is not necessarily conducive to the creation of a holy record, but on Mt. Wutai, where the space itself was already meaningfully structured, Ennin’s journey through it cannot help but partake of that structure. The stories of past events also imposed their structure onto Ennin’s own experiences. Ennin's record of Mt. Wutai reads the mountain as text, following earlier guides to the mountain that do the same thing. Ennin also brought back copies of texts about Mt. Wutai, including An Abridged Account of the Clear and Cold (Qingliangshan luezhuan 205 ¼„´Ü2) one of the mountain guides to Mt. Wutai.77 This shows that Ennin had access to these other texts that structured the sacred experience of Mt. Wutai and he drew on them in creating his own78 Although from the Song, Chang Shang-Ying's journal of his travel to Mt. Wutai vividly demonstrates how previous accounts shaped later narratives. Chang’s account also explores the relationship between the journey and the narrative.79 In his account, Chang is originally skeptical of the numinous phenomena he witnessed and offers naturalistic explanations, but eventually, he was overwhelmed by his experiences and changed his mind. Then the monks of the monastery encouraged Chang to write these experiences down and promulgate them, promising him that he will be blessed for these actions.80 He also submitted a summary of his experiences as a memorial to the emperor. Despite his initial skepticism, Chang, as narrator, was drawn into a compelling web of Buddhist and imperial narratives and sacred space. His initial skepticism itself becomes a new and persuasive addition to the narrative. There is some evidence that Ennin consciously crafted a narrative out of his daily records.81 For example, when he began his third section, he decided to begin it with his 77 Nihon koku J"wa gonen nitt" guh" mokuroku DE<¡TÐ×ØjÙÚ_Ô, cited in Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 161. See also, Michihata Ry#sh! m…é†, “Ch!goku bukky# to Monju shink#” ;< Op:]Q,B, in Bukky" no rekishi to bunka Op=FG:]í (Kyoto: d#h#sha ®F:¹‡ˆ 1980), 180-97. Monk Fazhao of Bamboo Grove Monastery of the Great Sage of Mt. Wutai Receiving Visions of the Mountain Realm (И´L•ú9±œÚ‰5û˜´KwÝ ) in the “List of Newly Acquired Sacred Writings from the Tang” (ØjÎÙ•p_Ô) T.2167.55.1085a, cited in Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 193. 78 Other Tang monks who wrote about Mt. Wutai are Daoxuan (mŠ 596-667), who mentions the mountain in two of his works, Ji shenzhou sanbao gantong lu V¤ÂÓ>‹Ö³ and Daoxuan lushi gantong lu m ŠŒ¸‹Ö³, and Fazang ÚG. See Cartelli, “On a Five-Colored Cloud,” 643-712. 79 Robert M. Gimello, “Chang Shang-Ying on Wu-T’ai Shan,” Pilgrims and Sacred Sites in China. ed. Susan Naquin and Chun-fang Yu (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1992), 90-149. 80 Gimello, “Chang Shang-Ying,” 112. 81 Ueno Eiko ¥oîÁ, Nitt# guh# junrei k#ki ni okeru hensan ishiki ØjÙÚÛÜÇÝxö‘••àJ Ô, Bungaku gogaku ](b( 92 (1981): 82-92. 206 entrance to Mt. Wutai, rewriting events already recorded in the end of the second scroll. However, in this rewriting, he left a few things out, like a bit about how cold it is and needing to wear a padded robe, because these mundane details were superfluous to his narrative of Mt. Wutai. Although minor, these details are evidence that Ennin edited his journal to create a more coherent narrative. Still, Ennin did not seem to fully understand the significance of his own narrative of Mt. Wutai. Instead, he seems to have been trying to rework his old script, replacing his original destination, Mt. Tientai (,µ´), with Mt. Wutai. For instance, Ennin tried to get the head of the Tendai sect at Mt. Wutai to answer the questions he brought from Japan, but the monk would not answer them, since they had already been answered by the head monastery at Mt. Tientai.82 Later Ennin remarks, “One can truly speak of Ta-huayen-ssu of Mt. Wu-t’ai as in the Tendai tradition” (‚$ŽÐµ´L¿•±˜,µdŒ /).83 Again, Ennin is arguing that Mt. Wutai be understood as equivalent to Mt. Tientai, as a source for Tendai practices, rather than capitalizing on Mt. Wutai’s unique esoteric credentials. Later commentators stress Mt. Wutai's connections with esoteric Buddhism and portray Ennin's time on Wutai as connected to his study of esoteric texts, but in his own record Ennin is oblivious to many of the esoteric aspects of worship on Mt. Wutai. Ennin's primary goals on Mt. Wutai were receiving initiations for his disciples, visiting holy sites, and copying texts. In this he was successful; his disciples were initiated and his two months there were equally divided between pilgrimages and copying texts. 82 Since Ennin was unable to take the question there, they had been entrusted to the younger student monk, Ensai. 83 840.5.17. 207 Sometimes, the various symbolic systems that mark Ennin's map are not merely mutually reinforcing, but they are blended and borrow from each other. For example, Ennin records that when Mañju&r* came from India following the death of the Buddha, he brought with him many relics, scriptures, and other sacred item, including “a billion forms of writing from the four continents” (/•²,+]ÿ) and various musical instruments.84 In Confucian thought, music was valued for its transformative influence, and writing was also a sign of civilization. Here, the classical Chinese signs of civilization, literature and music, are displayed as evidence of the legitimacy of Chinese Buddhism. Buddhism seamlessly appropriates this classical Chinese trope, except that what the instruments inspire is enlightenment, rather than morally correct actions. Ennin’s Effect on the Japanese Tradition of Mountain Worship Ennin travels to China during a transitional period between monks who journeyed to China to obtain texts and monks who traveled to visit sacred sites. I believe this shift can be linked to developments on the continent as well as to internal shifts within Japanese Buddhism. The situation paralleled similar developments in China, where the importation of new Buddhist texts was influential in the Tang, but much less so in the Song. Tansen Sen notes this trend and attributes it to indigenous religious developments and Song Buddhists’ increased confidence in their own tradition, both of which link back to the emergence of China as a Buddhist holy land.85 In Japan, the transition between the two stages roughly corresponds with the history of official missions to the Tang. One of 84 840.5.23. Tansen Sen describes this shift in Tansen Sen, “The Revival and Failure of Buddhist Translations during the Song Dynasty,” T'oung Pao 88, no. 1/3 (2002): 27-80. Similarly, the cultural centrality of Zen in the Song with its anti-textual emphasis may have also contributed to the decreasing importance of texts, although they continued to be translated in comparable numbers. 85 208 the main cultural consequences of the missions to the Tang was the importation of Chinese books.86 These imports motivated and were motivated by the well-documented emphasis on texts and textual exegesis in Nara and early Heian Buddhism.87 This system then gradually gives way to the ritual-centered esoteric system developed by K!kai (!" 774–835) and adopted by the Tendai and Nara sects.88 This shift away from study towards personal instruction and initiation and away from copying and exegesis to ritual performance laid the foundation for the increased importance of pilgrimage as religious experience. Instead of traveling to China just to obtain texts, personal experiences on sacred mountains and the prestige acquired thereby became more important reasons for pilgrimage. These experiences still needed to be narrated and recorded as texts to be translated into enduring cultural capital, but this was a new genre in a reconfigured religious field. Similar to the mainland, the importation of texts did not stop, but indigenous religious developments rendered these new imports less culturally significant than they had been. Ennin’s journal represents a transition point for the implementation of this shift precipitated by K!kai. Ennin traveled to acquire both texts and initiations. His decision to go to Mt. Wutai was entirely fortuitous and yet in the process he was introduced to an aspect of Chinese Buddhism that had yet to be imported to Japan.89 Once Ennin had 86 Charlotte von Verschuer, Across the Perilous Sea: Japanese Trade with China and Korea from the Seventh to the Sixteenth Centuries, trans. Kristen Lee Hunter (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University East Asia Program, 2006); Wang Yong ‘û and Kuboki Hideo ¦’á†-, Nara, Heian ki no nich!bunka k"ry!— bukkur"do no shiten kara éé“5-”=D;]í‹Œ :•ü–—˜”=™šC— (N#san gyoson bunka ky#kai ›´œË]í•• , 2001). 87 Kasahara Kazuo, A History of Japanese Religion (Tokyo: Kosei Publishing Company, 2002). 88 Ry!chi Abe, The Weaving of Mantra: K!kai and the Construction of Esoteric Buddhist Discourse (New York: Columbia, 1999). 89 Ennin records his decision to go to Wutai on 839.7.23. On 839.7.28, Ennin explains to Chinese authorities his situation. Somewhat disingenuously, Ennin claims he was left behind, but also states that he has not fulfilled his vows and wants to travel to see holy sites. Wutai was the first holy mountain 209 traveled there, Mt. Wutai became part of the agenda for later pilgrims seeking to acquire such religious capital. In addition to spreading his understanding of Buddhist space through the dissemination of his journal, Ennin redefined the sacred geography of Mt. Hiei by expanding the monastic complex, patterning it after Mt. Wutai.90 After returning to Japan, Ennin completed the Y#kawa cloister (ž¤Å), which he had begun before he left, and began to build a Pure Land hall, a Mañju&r* tower, and the shury"gon-in (wŸ•Å), all based on buildings from Mt. Wutai.91 As each building was a new center of worship with its own accompanying practices, they contributed to the esotericization of the Tendai sect. Traditionally, mountains have played an important role in East Asian Buddhism, including the Tendai sect. Following the earlier Indian tradition of retreating into the forest to practice, mountains were considered a refuge from the distractions of the world and an ideal place to practice. Also, the rigors of wilderness living constituted its own type of practice. Tendai patriarch Zhiyi recommends solitary practice on mountain tops as appropriate only for those with the greatest spiritual capacity.92 Finally, the forests and mountains were seen as the homes of various non-Buddhist deities who needed to be pacified, converted, or reconceptualized as manifestations of Buddhist deities. associated with a god living on it in China, a model for Japan and Korea. See Lin, “Building a Sacred Mountain,” 2-3. 90 Murayama clearly links the development of Mt. Hiei with Saich#’s experience on Mt. Tendai in China, and Ennin’s and Enchin’s on Mt. Wutai. Murayama Shuichi Ë´ªq, “Hieisan no rekishiteki kaikon” ² ³´=FGÚ ¡ Hieizan to Tendai bukky" no kenky! ²³´:,µOp=Þß (Meicho Shuppan i ¢JK, 1975), 13-41. 91 Kageyama Haruki £´.¤, “Ennin no konpon nyoh#ky# to Yokokawa no hattatsu” #$=@EøÚ q:ž¤=¥¦, in Hieizan to Tendai bukky" no kenky! ²³´:,µOp=Þß (Meicho Shuppan i ¢JK, 1975), 152-169. DDB, s.v. “wŸ•.” “Shury#gon is a transliteration of the Sanskrit &!ramgama, translated into Chinese as §L, §Ç and q¨P7. A type of sam'dhi which destroys all sorts of afflictions. The efficacy of this sam'dhi is discussed in the )!ramgama-sam'dhi-s!tra, especially on T vol. 15, pp. 631a-b. [cmuller]” 92 Daniel Bruce Stevenson, “The T'ien-t'ai Four Forms of Samadhi and late North-South Dynasties, Sui, and Early T'ang Buddhist devotionalism” (PhD diss., Columbia University, 1987), 40. 210 Despite the importance of mountains in all of the East Asian religious traditions, there has been little cross-cultural analysis. In Japan, there are two schools of thought about mountain religion.93 Gorai Shigeru (ЄÓ) and his students believe that shugend" (ª©m) is the quintessential indigenous religion of Japan, stretching back into antiquity, and that other influences, such as Buddhist, Daoist, Onmy"d" (yin-yang practice), and even Shint# were appropriated into it without affecting the core of the religion. Miyake Hitoshi (xÑž) is representative of those in the second school who hold that shugend" began in the around the 11th or 12th century based on preexisting mountain faiths, such as esoteric Buddhism, Daoism, shamanism, and that practitioners gained power from the mountain gods through austerities in the mountains, which they used in spells and magic to aid people. He argues that it is different from the mountain Buddhism (´9Op) that preceded it and that it did not emerge as a full fledged institution until the late medieval period in the 14-15th centuries. Both schools emphasize the centrality of mountain religion to Japanese religious history. In general, the second group is much more historically accurate. However, while I understand its adherents’ reluctance to discuss mountain religion from a time when there are considerably fewer sources that describe it in any detail, they fail to account for the connections between earlier forms of mountain practice and fully developed shugend", especially in terms of tracing it back to the continent. The Buddhism of the Heian period is sometimes described as a “mountain-forest Buddhism” (sanrin bukky" ´9Op) because Saich# (%&) and K!kai both 93 Tokieda Tsutomu [ª«, Shugend" no k"kogakuteki kenky! ª©m=_O(ÚÞß (Y!zankaku É´ Y, 2005). 211 established monastic centers on mountains, as opposed to the urban monasteries of the Nara period. Although Saich# still probably envisioned his relationship to the mountains in traditional ways, K!kai seems to have begun developing a much more complex model of interaction based on esoteric mandalas. However, it would be several centuries until esoteric Buddhism fully redefined the role of mountains in Japanese Buddhism. Still, these strategies set the stage for the emergence of sacred mountains and mountain religions in the Heian and medieval periods. This history underscores the importance of mountains from this early period. For example, scholars wishing to emphasize Saich#'s achievements versus K!kai's will often mention that Saich# received the posthumous honorific title of Great Master (Daishi L ¸), fifty years prior to K!kai. Those wishing to emphasize Ennin's contributions note that Saich# and Ennin received the posthumous title at the same time.94 Finally and much more rarely is it pointed out that Ennin's disciple S## (LŽ) was responsible for having both Saich# and Ennin so designated.95 S## was a practitioner of mountain Buddhism and his prominence reflect the importance of this tradition. Easily the most obscure of these four monks today, S## was apparently very influential in his own time, due to his development of techniques and ideas brought to Japan by Ennin. Today known primarily as the founder of Mud#ji (8m±) and of the kaih"gy" (ÀÁÇ), the dominant mountain practice of Mt. Hiei, S##’s popularity at court 94 John Stevens describes Ennin as a co-founder of Japanese Tendai. John Stevens, The Marathon Monks of Mount Hiei (Boston: Shambala, 1988), 30. 95 S## was a renowned thaumaturge and was repeatedly summoned to the imperial palace. In gratitude for these services, at S##’s request, Saich# and Ennin were granted their posthumous titles. Stevens, Marathon Monks, 58-9. That S##’s death was noted in the F!s" ryakki, Uji shui monogatari, and other places, confirms his contemporary importance. See Kageyama Haruki £´.¤, Tendai to shugend" ,µ:ª© m (Meich# shuppan i¢JK, 1975), 237, 239. A further list of sources about S## can be found in Kageyama, Tendai to shugend", 241. 212 was due to his skill as a healer, drawing on power developed through his esoteric mountain practice. It was these skills that enabled S## to have Ennin and Saich# awarded these prestigious titles. S##'s success at court demonstrates a practical application of the various cultural technologies that Ennin brought back from China and how they were used to secure prestige and support for the nascent Tendai sect. Although the connections between Tendai mountain religious practices and Tang practices through Ennin and S## is somewhat murky, let us review this history and examine the available evidence to determine what kind of a case can be made. Although S## is revered as the founder of the kaih"gy", his own mountain practice was much less sophisticated than the fully developed kaih"gy" ritual.96 Still, this attribution is important as it provides a link whereby we can trace this practice back through S## to Ennin and then to the continent, creating a bridge between these formerly disconnected, but obviously interrelated fields. Let us begin with a brief summary of S## life and accomplishments. S##’s mountain practice begins with a vision he had, where a deity of Mt. Hiei appeared to him and explained, All the peaks on this mountain are sacred. Make pilgrimages to its holy places following the instructions of the mountain gods. Train hard like this and practice every day. This is the practice of the Never-Despise Bodhisattva. Your sole practice is to be the veneration of all things; through it you will realize the True Dharma.97 This vision is often cited as the beginning of the kaih"gy" and of S##’s mountain practice. This practice led to his fame and prestige as a holy monk and healer. He was often summoned to the imperial palace by Seiwa Tenn" (¼T 850-881) and developed close 96 For a brief account of S##'s life, see Kageyama, Tendai to shugend", 229-271, 234-241. In English Stevens, Marathon Monks, 57-59. Both are based primarily on the S"" den . 97 Stevens, Marathon Monks, 58 213 ties with the imperial house.98 The cultural (and actual) capital thus acquired enabled S## to continue Ennin's expansion of Mt. Hiei by founding Mud#ji, the Katsuragawa cloister (¬¤Å), the Sekizan cloister (Ä´Å Mt. Chi cloister) and overseeing the completion of Ennin's projects.99 Mud#ji was completed in 881, with the casting of the Golden Bronze Dainichi Nyorai image (sk:Vairocana LDø„) and the Fud# My## (sk:Acala ô-…û), and soon after it became a Tendai branch cloister (betsuin (Å). Due to donations from the Nishisanj# (åÓ®) house and others, it was soon financially independent and in 883, even contributed to the renovation and furnishing of the j"gy" (éÇ) hall at the Eastern Hall of Mt. Hiei.100 S## was also responsible for promoting faith in the indigenous mountain deities of Hiei, such as the Sann# Gongen (´û¡ ¯).101 Let us return now to the kaih"gy" practice to examine how it might be connected to Ennin’s experiences on Mt. Wutai and with esoteric Buddhism. First, I will explain what it is and briefly review its history. The kaih"gy" is a circumambulation of Mount Hiei, performing esoteric mantra and mudra at over 250 sacred sites, “including temples and shrines to Vedic, Buddhist, Shinto, and Taoist deities; tombs of Tendai patriarchs; and sacred peaks, hills, stones, forests, bamboo groves, cedar and pines trees, waterfalls, ponds, and springs.”102 This circumambulation is repeated daily in ten 100-day cycles, over a period of 7 years. During the 7th cycle of 100 days, the path is expanded to include 98 Kageyama, Tendai to shugend", 236. Murayama, “Hieisan no rekishiteki kaikon,” 17. 100 Kageyama, Tendai to shugend", 237. 101 Kageyama, Tendai to shugend", 238. 102 Susan Naquin and Chun-fang Yu, “Introduction,” Sacred Sites in China (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1992), 6. 99 214 much of Kyoto, increasing the route to 54 miles (84 km). The ritual also includes a nineday fast from food and water. Although the kaih"gy" was fairly close to its modern form by the late medieval period, there is very little concrete evidence about the practice in earlier periods. 103 Practitioners describe its doctrinal origin as stemming from several related sources. The kaih"gy" is said to be based on the “never despising Bodhisattva” from the Lotus Sutra, who worshipped everyone and everything around him as potential buddhas and who was invoked in S##’s vision. The idea that even plants and rocks have a Buddha nature became prevalent in medieval Tendai with the concept of honji suijaku (E’°±) and Hiramatsu Ch#k! (5²&!) has shown a connection between kaih"gy" practice and some of the developers of honji suijaku.104 This idea has also been considered as a radical extension of the spirit of equality and communitas that Ennin describes on Mt. Wutai.105 The kaih"gy" practice also has very clear esoteric roots. The purpose of the kaih"gy" is to become Fudo My##, a prominent esoteric deity. The kaih#gy# is also linked to Ennin’s experiences on Mt. Wutai. While there, Ennin saw a picture of Monk Daxie (L³ “Big Shoes”) who “made fifty pilgrimages around the five terraces and also, once, lived on the summit of the central terrace for three years, both winter and summer, 103 From 830-1130, there is no evidence of established routes or times, although people are making pilgrimages to Mt. Hira, Mt. Kimpu, and Mt. Hiei. From 1130-1310 the kaih"gy" connecting the three precincts of the mountain was established and 100, 700, and 1000-day periods also became popular. From 1310 till the destruction of Mt. Hiei in 1571, the routes, dress, and other procedures were codified. “A work called The Story of Wandering Saints, composed in 1387, describes the kaih"gy" of that era as consisting of a 40-kilometer (25 mile) course. The full term of 700 days with two nine-day retreats each year at Katsuragawa Valley. Upon completion of the 700th day there was a nine-day fast at My#-#-d#, the same as today.” Stevens, Marathon Monks, 59. 104 Hiramatsu Ch#k! 5²&!, “Kaih#gy# to Tendai hongaku shis#” ÀÁÇ:,µE·yŠ , Taish" Daigaku daigakuin kenky! ronsh! LšL(L(ÅÞßùV 6 (February 1982): 81-92. 105 For example, Ennin writes, “When one enters this region of His Holiness [Monju], if one sees a very lowly man, one does not dare to feel contemptuous, and if one meets a donkey, one wonders if it might be a manifestation of Monju. The holy land makes one have a spontaneous feeling of respect for the region.” 840.5.16. See also 840.7.2. 215 without descending.”106 This practice of pilgrimage around Mt. Wutai was another possible source of inspiration for the practice. Ennin’s tranposition of the sacred geography of Mt. Wutai to Mt. Hiei, which I discuss later, also created the field where such practice could be imagined. Finally, Tendai practitioners justify the kaih"gy" as an extension of the j"gy" sanmai (éÇÓX), a canonical Tendai practice that Ennin brought back from Mt. Wutai.107 However, Robert Rhodes, one of the few scholars to address the kaih"gy" in English, argues that despite the attribution, these two practices have little in common.108 From a purely doctrinal standpoint this is correct. The kaih"gy" is clearly esoteric, whereas j"gy" sanmai is most often cited as an early example of a nascent Pure Land practice. However, in terms of practice and of ritual as technology, there is much common ground. The j"gy" sanmai involves a ninety-day continuous circumambulation of an image of Amida (sk:Amit'bha _ˆ‰) and chanting of Amida's name. Although mentioned by Saich# in his writing, it was Ennin who observed the practice firsthand on Mt. Wutai and built a special hall for the practice on Mt. Hiei, inaugurating the practice in Japan. Although the central deities are different, the purpose of the j"gy" sanmai and the kaih"gy" are remarkably similar. From descriptions by practitioners, both produce a very similar mental state and facilitate the same kind of mental breakthrough in the quest for enlightenment. Practitioners of both undergo scrupulous purification rites that set them apart and resemble rites for the dead. If nothing else, the fact that Japanese Tendai 106 840.5.16. Ennin describes this practice in his entry for 840.5.1. Also described in Stevens, Marathon Monks, 43. 108 Robert Rhodes, “The Kaih#gy# Practice of Mt. Hiei,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 14, no. 2-3 (1987): 185-202. 107 216 practitioners view the kaih"gy" as an extension of the j"gy" sanmai is in and of itself significant. Ennin's final contribution to the redefinition of Japanese sacred geography comes from the mandalas that he brought back to Japan, which pave the way for the eventual mandalization of many sacred mountains in subsequent centuries. Ennin was not the first to bring mandalas back to Japan, and he did not expand the mandala concept to include sacred mountains, but this contribution to Tendai esotericism did have an impact on the development of sacred geography in the Tendai sect.109 A mandala is already a map, giving concrete form to abstract doctrines, and guiding the practitioner on a ritual path to enlightenment. The embodiment of the doctrine in ritual practice and visual forms makes these profound truths more easily attainable. In these ways, mandalas are already sacred spaces similar to Mt. Wutai. Although not explicitly mandalized, Cartelli shows how the guides to Mt. Wutai describe the physical terrain of the mountain as “a 'manifestation of the Buddhist doctrine.'”110 Likewise, pilgrimage to the sacred site facilitated enlightenment in a degenerate age, where individuals' spiritual abilities were greatly diminished. Again, Cartelli explains, “The divine could not be expressed in words and was therefore incapable of being understood rationally, but surely it could be realized through a stay on a mountain such as Mount Wutai.”111 In this example as well, Mt. Wutai functions like a mandala to lead the practitioner beyond the capabilities of their rational minds to a more direct apprehension of Buddhist truths. 109 Ennin “was particularly responsible for the encouraging of the adoption of esoteric doctrines and practices into the Tendai sect.” Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 36. 110 Cartelli, “Poetry of Mount Wutai,” 49. 111 Cartelli, “Poetry of Mount Wutai,” 49. 217 The two primary esoteric mandalas, the Womb World (´vw) and Diamond World (”Lw) reflect both Buddhist and pre-Buddhist, Chinese conceptualizations of space.112 In addition to their similarity with stupas,113 the layout of the Diamond World mandala reveals traces of traditional Chinese numerology and cosmological, spatial concepts that inspired the layout of Changan.114 The Womb World mandala also reveals traces of earlier Chinese spatial concepts, such as the idea of concentric realms, starting with imperial, and moving out through feudal lords, pacification, allied barbarians, to cultureless savagery.115 The layout of Chinese monasteries was also influenced by these same non-Buddhist concepts.116 These similarities show once again how the imperial and Buddhist geographies converge and support a broader understanding of culture as technology, unconnected to particular traditions or institutions. K!kai appears to have been the first Japanese monk to transpose the sacred geography of the mandala onto an actual physical location. As Elizabeth Grotenhuis explains, K!kai seems to have envisioned Mount K#ya as the Womb World (Taiz#) of compassion, symbolized by the eight petaled lotus flower. The eight peaks surrounding the central plateau were seen as the petals of this lotus. The monastery at the center of the plateau within the Womb World was called K#ng#buji, Vajra, or Diamond Peak Temple, signifying the Diamond World of wisdom.117 112 Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 5-6. Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 70. 114 Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 55. 115 Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 72. 116 In another example, Grotenhuis shows how even monastery layouts were influenced by pre-Buddhist conceptions of space. “During these periods [Sui, Tang] monastic architecture began to shift away from the axial plan with the pagoda behind the inner gate just in front of the image hall, to a plan whereby two pagodas were placed outside the central enclosure. The importance of the image hall thus increased in what may be called a triumph for the Chinese royal secular world since the image hall with its images lined frontally across the altar was based on imperial audience halls.” Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 56. 117 Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 79. 113 218 The Tendai innovation that flowed from Ennin's introduction was to turn this sacred geography into a site for a particular practice and the creation of a new ritual that corresponded specifically with the expanded and redefined sacred site. Later, most major shugend" sites and pilgrimage sites became conceptualized in terms of mandalas, particularly the Womb and Diamond World mandalas. Grotenhuis describes the first such instance as occurring in 1180 when “the Shozan engi (Origins of various mountains), appeared, describing the Yoshino-%mine-Kumano mountain ranges as the Diamond World and Womb World mandala.”118 Other sites were designated as mandalas as well, and the dual mandalas were even mapped on the entire Japanese archipelago.119 In short, mandalization of space became an absolutely central component of medieval Japanese Buddhism and one that continued, even when esoteric Buddhism as a whole was less influential. The Japanese also expanded the mandala tradition to include more naturalistic depictions of these mandalized native sacred sites. Abandoning the rigid geometrical shapes of the Diamond and Womb mandalas, these mandalas resemble Japanese landscape paintings. If the Kumano Mountains are a geographical manifestation of the double mandalas, then a painting of them can also be a mandala. Elizabeth Grotenhuis terms this new genre of mandala kami mandara: Like Esoteric mandalas, kami mandara depict numinous realms where the sacred manifests itself and where the distinction between the human and deity blurs. Esoteric mandalas can be understood as cosmic ground plans or maps, showing the relationships among deities or natural forces. Kami mandara are also maplike, but they show recognizable sacred precincts on 118 Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 166. Allan Grapard has also written about this process. Allan Grapard, “Flying Mountains and Walkers of Emptiness: Toward a Definition of Sacred Space in Japanese Religions,” History of Religion 20, no. 3 (February 1982): 207. 119 219 earth, exploring the relationships among deities who manifest themselves at these numinous places.120 The idea of a geographical area as mandala was so compelling that depiction of that geography was also a mandala. The representation of a sacred area is also sacred, as it depicts the same cosmic truths and enables the same kinds of spiritual practice. It could also be an object of devotion. In many ways, these images function similarly to travel narratives like Ennin’s and the others he brought back, providing a vicarious experience of the sacred geography. These mandalas were also linked back to the Chinese precedents through other sources. Ennin's younger contemporary Enchin (#µ 814-91), who also traveled to China, appears prominently in a Kumano mandala. As Grotenhuis explains, “In fact, an apocryphal tradition holds that the deities of Kumano were taught the truths of Buddhism by Enchin himself.”121 This attribution is most likely due to the relationship between Kumano with the temple founded by Enchin, Miidera (Ó•± alt. Onj#ji ¶6± ), even though these connections developed much later. Thus Miyagi Nobumasa’s use of this evidence to claim that Enchin is the first monk to link Tendai and shugend" practices is problematic.122 Instead, Enchin's contributions were similar to Ennin's except that he travelled later and his decision to travel to Mt. Wutai should be understood as a response to Ennin’s travels. In either case, this connection to Enchin, real or imagined, should not 120 Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 143. Grotenhuis, Japanese Mandalas, 171. 122 Miyagi Nobumasa x6,§, “Chish# Daishi oyobi sono monry! to shugend#” hRL¸ŸBåŒ: ª©m, in Hieizan to Tendai bukky" no kenky! ²³´:,µOp=Þß (Meicho Shuppan i¢JK, 1975), 277. Miyagi acknowledges that nothing exists from Enchin’s hand or from his time that connects him with any shugend" practices. Instead, the documents that make this claim are all from the Kamakura period. 121 220 point us back to Nara period mountain ascetic En no Gy#ja (·ÇK), as Miyagi argues it should, but rather to China and to Mt. Wutai. Conclusion After Buddhism was introduced into China, Chinese monks persistently had what Antonio Forte describes as a “borderland complex.”123 For example, in contradiction with the traditional Chinese view, Daoxuan (mŠ) passionately argues that India, not China, should be considered the center of the world. He framed his conclusion with calculations of the distances between geographical determinants, the mountains and seas, and the two countries; and a comparison of the cultural sophistication achieved in India and China.124 However, during the Tang, China began to be recognized as a Buddhist holy land in its own right through the use of relics, the creation of Buddhist holy sites in China, and the political sponsorship of Buddhism. Its success can be measured by the pilgrims it attracted from all over East Asia, Southeast Asia, and India. Of these three factors, the designation of China as the home of several important bodhisattvas, especially Mañju&r* on Mt. Wutai, was the most significant. Sen Tansen explains how “this recognition of China as a legitimate pilgrimage site by the Indian monastic community dispelled the borderland complex that had tormented the Chinese clergy since the third and fourth centuries.”125 The fact that Indian monks, as well as Sillan, and Japanese monks, began to travel there on pilgrimages was the crucial validation for the Tang as a Buddhist holy Antonio Forte, “Hui-chih (fl. 676-703 A.D.) A Brahmin Born in China,” Estratto da Annali dell’Instituto Universitario Orientale 45 (1985): 106-134. 124 Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 9. 125 Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 56. 123 221 land comparable to India.126 Foreign monks became part of and contributed to the landscape through inscriptions and relics. At Mt. Wutai, Ennin saw the enshrined relic of the Japanese monk Reisen (¸¹) who had travelled to Mt. Wutai earlier and died there.127 The devotion of foreign monks to this Chinese site increased the prestige of Buddhism and of China. The early Japanese rulers’ anxiety about being marginal, religiously and politically, was even greater. To overcome it, they borrowed many strategies from the Tang. The Japanese court's appropriation and modification of Tang political cosmology is common knowledge, but the Japanese appropriation of Tang Buddhist geography has received little attention. Huixiang, in his Gu qingliangshan zhuan (O¼„´2 Former Record of Mt. Clear and Cold, ie. Mt. Wutai) writes, “We are all children in a burning house. How can we forget it? The official Zhang Qian searched for the source of the river in Da Yun, and the Buddhist monk Faxian sought sambodhi in India. How much closer is Shenzhou? [The location of Mt. Wutai].”128 Invoking the doctrine of expedient means from the Lotus Sutra, Huixiang rejoices that a holy land has been discovered so close to home. At the end of the Heian period, the Japanese monk My#e (…º 1173 – 1232) had a similar epiphany. After years of planning a trip to India, the Kasuga deity appeared to him and convinced him that such a trip was unnecessary, because the sacred 126 Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 79-82. Sen also notes, “Some of these disgruntled members of the Indian monastic community were undoubtedly drawn to the emerging Buddhist world in China endowed with sacred sites (such as Mt. Wutai) and ruled by ideal Buddhist rulers (such as Emperor Wen and Empress Wu Zetian). Additionally, the political stability and the economic prosperity attained by the Tang dynasty in the second half of the seventh century made China an immensely attractive destination for Indian monks.” Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 98. 127 Reisen had drawn a picture of the Buddha on a piece of skin from his arm and enshrined it in a small bronze pagoda. This bronze pagoda was installed in the Golden pavilion where Ennin saw it. 840.7.2. 128 Quoted. in Cartelli “Poetry of Mount Wutai,” 50-51. Huixiang's invocation of Faxian makes sense, as it is easy to see how Mt. Wutai satisfies a spiritual quest. However, he also mentions Zhang Qian, the leader of a Han political expedition to locate possible foreign allies, suggesting also that there were political, foreign relations benefits of Mt. Wutai. 222 mountains of Japan are as holy as those of India, and the Buddhist truths are universal and pervade the entire world.129 Although not functionally identical to the transformation of Mt. Wutai, the Kasuga deity’s rationale speaks to importance of sacred space and Buddhist strategies of sacralization. That the Kasuga deity could speak with such confidence is evidence of the success of Ennin's introductions. After Ennin, many Japanese monks traveled to Mt. Wutai and several of these also kept records of their travel. Further research is necessary to determine the effect of this continuous flow of cultural ideas and how these ideas affected the developing Japanese mountain religions. Although many previous scholars acknowledge Ennin’s time on Mt. Wutai as formative in the development of Mt. Hiei, the specific contours of Mt. Wutai’s sacred geography have yet to be fully compared with Mt. Hiei and subsequent Japanese holy mountains. As I have shown, this sacred geography is not merely abstract and conceptual, but is embedded in sacred architecture and ritual practices. The transmission of these specific material technologies is much easier to document than the transmission of abstract ideas. Despite the fact that Ennin seems not to have fully understood Mt. Wutai’s esoteric signifance until after his return, his faithful transmission of these ritual practices inspired and enabled a Japanese adaptation of Tang strategies of sacred space. These innovations by Ennin’s disciples and later monks formed the basis of some of the most iconic and long lasting Tendai practices, such as the kaih"gy". Although shugend" is often portrayed as quintessentially Japanese, this analysis points to the role of foreign practices in catalyzing these new configurations. Overall, this comparative approach has much to contribute to the study of the various East Asian mountain traditions. 129 George Tanabe, My"e the Dreamkeeper: Fantasy and Knowledge in Early Kamakura Buddhism (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 1992), 68. 223 Ennin’s account of the sacred geography and pilgrimage is also a central theme in his journal and explication of it helps us understand his journal as a whole. With the subsequent flourishing of the journal genre, pilgrimage and sacred travel became important strands within Japanese literary and cultural tradition as well; issues I return to briefly in the final chapter. Ennin’s contributions to this development have yet to be fully explored and appreciated. 224 Chapter 6: The Huichang Persecution of Buddhism The Huichang persecution was one of the most extensive suppressions of Buddhism in Chinese history. The final section of Ennin’s journal is devoted almost exclusively to the events of the persecution and provides a detailed, though often second hand, account.1 Ennin’s experience of it must have challenged his concept of the imperial and Buddhist ideologies as necessarily mutually beneficial and supporting. However, Ennin’s portrayal of the persecution, though doubtless tempered by his own sense of personal danger, is amazing for the extent to which it does not question this rupture, but affirms the unity of the two systems. In what follows, I examine Ennin’s account of the persecution, in particular those moments where he offers his own analysis of the emperor’s motives or tries to make sense of the events overall. The Huichang persecution revealed both the vulnerabilities and strengths of the Buddhist position in Tang society. Emperor Wuzong’s Confucian advisors, primarily Li Deyu, argued that the regulation of the clergy was necessary for economic reasons. Emperor Wuzong’s personal inclination towards Daoism and dislike of Buddhism, which was encouraged by the Daoist priests, was also a factor. In response, Ennin seems to be piecing together a case to argue that the emperor was irrational and had lost the mandate of heaven, condemning his actions without condemning the system that justified them. Likewise, after Ennin was defrocked and left the capital, he gained a broader view and recorded many instances of officials who sympathized with the monks and did all they 1 Obviously Ennin did not have direct access to the imperial court. Furthermore, from 844.4 on, monks’ movement was severely proscribed. In addition, the many accounts of monks in public being harassed and killed meant Ennin mostly remained in the monastery. Thus, even for events that happened in the capital, Ennin had only second hand information. 225 could to soften the impact of the imperial policies. The Huichang persecution has primarily been considered for its impact on Buddhism, without considering the collateral damage to the economy and imperial legitimacy, although Buddhism was inextricably connected with those other spheres. 2 Although it is impossible to quantify this impact, Ennin’s journal makes a case for the Huichang persecution’s undermining imperial legitimacy. Likewise, the economic analyses of the Huichang persecution have failed to take into account the important economic roles played by Buddhist monasteries. Government Regulation of Buddhism Throughout the Tang, the government periodically regulated the clergy, through controlling ordinations and dismissing illegally ordained monks, enforcing adherence to monastic law, and even requiring tests to prove literacy and exegetical ability. Although most of these were probably attempts to curtail the power of the Buddhist establishment, Tang rulers conceptualized these regulations as sincere efforts to assure the purity of the Buddhist establishment and thus ensure the efficacy of their ritual practice.3 Because of Buddhist institutions broad popular and elite support, there was significant resistance to such reforms and many regulations were issued only to be rescinded before they could fully be carried out.4 Buddhism in Japan had largely come of age under the Tang guidelines, which had been adopted by the Japanese court soon after its promulgation in 2 The best English summary of the Huichang persecution can be found in Stanley Weinstein’s Buddhism Under the T'ang (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 114-36. Here, as elsewhere, the Huichang suppression is discussed primarily in terms of its impact on the history of Chinese Buddhism. The Japanese sources have a similar focus. 3 See Weinstein, Buddhism Under the T'ang. See also Kenneth Ch’en, The Chinese Transformation of Buddhism (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1973), 82-105. The Japanese adoption of the Tang codes resulted in a similar situation in Japan, although in Japan this regulation was never pursued very vigorously. 4 Weinstein, Buddhism in the T’ang, 9, 14-20, 51-3, 89-95, 108-13. 226 the Tang, and Ennin, as a monk on a government mission, accepted the ruler’s sovereignty over the Buddhist establishment. Thus initially Ennin accepted the emperor’s actions as regulations of the Buddhist establishment. Although Ennin felt the emperor was being overly harsh, he did not question this authority and never appealed to a source of spiritual authority separate from political authority. It was only at the very end, when the emperor overstepped these bounds and persecuted all monks, regardless of qualifications, that Ennin objected. The early stages of the Huichang persecution seemed little different from earlier regulations. In 842.3.3, the Minister of State Li Deyu petitioned the throne to dismiss unlicensed monks and nuns.5 Since monks and nuns were exempt from taxes, ordination was tightly controlled and limited to two official ordination platforms.6 However, in addition to the government sanctioned monks, there were various privately ordained, or unordained monks practicing and it was these that the government was trying to return to lay life. A subsequent edict, issued in 842.10.9, laicized monks who practiced sorcery, incantations, alchemy, those who had fled from the army, were formerly criminals, or had wives, or property. Likewise, this edict does not yet constitute persecution of Buddhism. Although the practice of magic was notoriously difficult to define, it seems to speak to magical practices not sanctioned by the state and used for private individuals. So this particular provision was also directed at monks practicing outside the state sanctioned guidelines. The other conditions were aimed at monks who were insincere; such as those who became monks to escape military service, hide from the law, or merely to claim tax5 For an account of his role in the persecution, see Takahashi Yoshinori •|»Ä, “The Intention and Role of a Chief Minister Li De-yu in the Anti-Buddhist Movement in the hui-chang era” l¼½ªxö‘•• Ln¾ì=J¿:·À , Ch!goku koten kenky! ;<OÄÞß 48 (2003.12): 14-29. 6 Huaiyu Chen, “Ordination Platform and Ordination Ritual,” in “The Revival of Buddhist Monasticism in Medieval China” (PhD diss., Princeton University, 2005), 114-162. 227 exempt status but continued their lives as householders. The edict gave these monks the option of staying monks by surrendering their wealth. Or they could maintain their wealth, but return to lay life and begin to pay taxes. In response to this edict, Ennin reports that 3,500 monks decided to return to lay life to maintain their wealth. The only part of this edict that was overly harsh was the prohibition against owning property. Although some canonical sources prohibit monks from owning property, from the beginnings of Buddhism these seem to have been honored more in the breach than the observance.7 In 843.1.18, these monks were then returned to lay life. Another regulation took place on 844.10, but here age also became a factor in determining who was laicized, presumably because younger monks could be more productively integrated back into the economy. An imperial edict ordered the destruction of all of the small monasteries. The monks and nuns were assigned as follows: Those monks and nuns of the destroyed monasteries who were unrefined in their conduct or did not observe the rules, regardless of their age, were sent back to their places of origin, and made to perform the local corvee. Those who were old and observed the rules were assigned to the great monasteries, but those who were young, even though they observed the rules, were all forced to return to lay life. (BeÁ±è˜„ÂÇôÚà ÇK„ôùPC„µÄô"„Å:EÆ„üØ£·‚×P„Ç»ÃÇ K„ÈL±‚^»ÃÇ„ú˜C×K„µÄô"„:EÆ). This regulation still nominally respects the distinction between those monks who were obeying the rules and those who were not, but adds to criteria of age, which had no religious justification but was instead economic. 7 Gregory Schopen, Buddhist Monks and Business Matters: Still More Papers on Monastic Buddhism in India, Studies in the Buddhist Traditions (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2004); Gregory Schopen, “The Buddha as an Owner of Property and Permanent Resident in Medieval Indian Monasteries,” Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks: Collected Papers on the Archaeology, Epigraphy, and Texts of Monastic Buddhism in India (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 1997), 258-89; John Kieschnick, “Introduction,” in The Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003), 1-23; Huaiyu Chen, “Property in Buddhist Monasticism,” in “The Revival of Buddhist Monasticism in Medieval China” (PhD diss., Princeton University, 2005), 163-223. 228 The following year, the government laicized many more monks, but this time, the pretense of regulating the Buddhist establishment was much weaker and Ennin finally began to voice criticism. First, they laicized all the monks under thirty, regardless of qualification. Then they proceeded to laicize all the monks under fifty. Finally, they laicized all the monks with any discrepancy in their documentation.8 At this point, Ennin protests the persecution, and in doing so, makes his position explicit: Since the year before last in regulating the monks and nuns they chose those of unrefined conduct and those who did not conform to their own religion and returned them to lay life and sent them back to their places of origin. But this year they did not distinguish between those of lofty and those of unrefined conduct and, paying no heed whether they were accredited monks, Reverences, or Court Priests, had them returned to lay life when their time came. (4×äü„Ɍ蘄V‘ÂÇôÚEp K„ô"„Å:EÆ‚S×ô‘•ÇÂÇ„ôùÊËLt„ô¾² /‚èÂsÌ„ûÞô").9 Ennin does not contest the premise of the earlier regulations, but complains that the government has overstepped these bounds. As he notes, there was no precedent for releasing monks solely on basis of their age and this new criteria cannot be explained in terms of purifying the monastic establishment for its own good. Although the lack of documentation or the faulty documentation can still be seen as government regulation, in an earlier passage, Ennin records how this was abused, and how minor discrepancies were used to discredit credentialed monks. “If there were the slightest smudge on their documents . . . or if the birth year differed from that entered by the offices of the Commissioners of Good Works,” they were returned to lay life (B»‘ÍÉK„àÎù ئÇÏЂB‘ÍÉ¥ñ»ç4æ„Ÿý×õitÑØ’ÉJQK„µØô"d 8 9 845.4. 845.5. 229 Ò).10 Clearly the government is abusing this power in an attempt to eliminate the Buddhist establishment. Although Ennin grants the Tang emperor the right to regulate the monastic establishment, he is critical here because the regulation no longer makes any sense from the perspective of the unity of the imperial and Buddhist orders. Still, given the seriousness of the situation, Ennin’s response was still rather measured. From the beginning of the Huichang persecution, foreign monks in the capital had been exempted from the regulations. 11 This was mostly because the powerful eunuch Qiu Shiliang (S×é) was protecting them, but also because the pilgrimage of foreign monks to the Tang to study and visit holy sites was an area where the Buddhist cosmology clearly reinforced and strengthened the Tang ideology of centrality. However, when Qiu Shiliang died, the foreign monks were also returned to lay life, since they lacked Tang documentation of their status as monks. Although Ennin was resigned to his fate, he notes with great irony, Nanda, a Learned Doctor of Northern India in the Western Lands . . . and Ratnacandra, a Learned Doctor of Southern India, together with his four disciples, who mastered the Buddhist practices in Central India and are all versed in the great art of devotion and broadly versed in the scriptures . . . all lack documentation from the Bureau of Sacrifices of China. (åW½, çÓGö‰„SLIC±V,çÓG>ØÕÓÁ²q„-;,ÂÔ„ ሔ‚LÚ„ŒÇÕÖ„óˆðù„Sj ±„á8jW‘Í É).12 The Tang ability to draw pilgrims and learned monks from as far away as India was a testament to its religious centrality. Its universal vision and cosmopolitanism was a great asset as it attracted talent from abroad. Thus, its refusal to recognize these eminent 10 845.3.3. See, for example, 842.3.8 and 843.1.28. In 842.5.25, monks were asked to provide documents to certify where they are from, where they are staying, their ages, and accomplishments. This was followed by a repeat request on 843.5.25. Ennin submitted his report in the following month on 843.6.29. 12 845.5.n.d. 11 230 monks because they lacked local, Tang credentials was essentially opting out of the great international Buddhist community and ignoring the prestige and authority to be gained from this position. Political Motivation There was also a political dimension to the persecution of Buddhism. Because it was outside of the bureaucratic establishment, Buddhism was a significant source of revenue and power to the eunuch factions, who were similarly excluded. Empress Wu, who was perhaps the most fervent supporter of Buddhism among Tang rulers, placed the monasteries under the control of the Commissioner of Good Works, a eunuch position. The most powerful supporter of Buddhism in the capital was Qiu Shiliang, and the Buddhist monasteries were also responsible for his immense wealth. In fact, the previous emperor, Wenzong (]Ñ), had tried to regulate Buddhism in 835, as part of a larger plan to restrict the power of the eunuchs who helped bring him to power, including Qiu.13 But, when his plot to destroy them was uncovered, they retaliated by decimating Emperor Wenzong’s ranks of supporters, forcing him to put a hold on his plans. This was known as the Sweet Dew Incident. Once the Huichang persecution started, Qiu did what he could to protect the Buddhist monks,14 but the powerful Confucian ministers, Li Deyu and Li Shin succeeded in beginning the regulation. Then five months later, on 843.6.23, Qiu died and the emperor immediately attacked Qiu’s subordinates, killing their families and destroying their houses.15 The following year, in 844.9, Qiu Shiliang’s (adopted) son made a disrespectful comment when drunk and was killed by the emperor. Although the 13 Weinstein, Buddhism in the T’ang, 111-3. 843.1.28. 15 843.6.23. 14 231 monasteries did not directly participate in politics, they were a source of cultural and economic capital to certain factions. By destroying the monasteries, the emperor eliminated a pillar that could support potential rivals. The emperor also confiscated the immense Qiu family wealth, which Ennin reported as thirty cart loads a day for over a month. The other political influence on the Huichang persecution was the war with the Uighurs that lasted from 841-3.16 In response, the emperor destroyed the Manichean temples in Changan that catered to the Uighurs living there.17 Since Buddhism was also criticized for being a foreign religion, the threat of the Uighurs was somehow conflated with the imagined threat of the Buddhist institutions. The Buddhist community was also faulted for its inability to protect the dynasty. A Buddhist monk claimed to be able to defeat Uighurs, but failed and was executed.18 When the Manichean priests were killed, their heads were first shaved and they were dressed as Buddhist monks.19 After the Uighurs were destroyed, some troops also rebelled. When a rebel army officer escaped, he was rumored to be hiding among the Buddhist monks and several hundred were slaughtered under the pretext of finding him. After a military victory against the rebels, Ennin reports that emperor gloated, “Now that Zhaoyi has been smashed, the only ones that We are not yet got rid of are the monasteries of the land. We are not yet completely finished regulating the monks and nuns” (Å#äׂSw–K„³˜,+±Ø„Õ® Œè˜FwÙ).20 The emperor viewed the Buddhist community as a threat analogous to the foreign military threat. Finally, the expedition against the Uighurs was expensive and 16 Michael Robert Drompp, Tang China and the collapse of the Uighur Empire (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 202. Weinstein, Buddhism in the T’ang, 120-1. 18 842.10.9. 19 843.4.n.d. 20 844.9.n.d. 17 232 the emperor needed additional sources of revenue.21 The extensive wealth of the Buddhist monasteries would have seemed an easy target. Economic Motivation Emperor Wuzong’s persecution of Buddhism was also motivated by economic considerations. In addition to the perennial argument that the Buddhist monasteries were a drain on the state because monks were exempted from paying taxes, Tang monasteries were extremely wealthy and must have seemed like easy targets for the cash strapped central government. As the monasteries were destroyed, their resources were appropriated by the state. Ennin records that gold was peeled from Buddhist statues and presented to the throne.22 Likewise, all of valuables and ritual utensils were gathered up and destroyed for their metal.23 In 845.3.3, the emperor ordered that an inventory be made of all monastic property and that all their slaves be turned over to the government. All of these strongly suggest the Emperor Wuzong’s persecution of Buddhism was at least partially economically motivated. In “The Economic Background of the Hui-Ch’ang Suppression of Buddhism,” Kenneth Ch’en makes a modern case for the Confucian argument that Buddhist monasteries were a financial drain on the state, essentially supporting Emperor Wuzong’s attack as rational.24 Although over fifty years old, Ch’en’s article is still regularly cited. However, Ch’en’s argument depends upon a simplistic understanding of the economy that mirror’s the premodern Confucian view and does not take into account Buddhist 21 844.7.15. 845.8.16. 23 845.8.27. 24 Kenneth Ch'en, “The Economic Background of the Hui-Ch'ang Suppression of Buddhism,” Harvard Journal of Asian Studies 19 (1956): 67-105. 22 233 monasteries’ complicated relationship to the economy. The real problem was the underlying conflict of interests and resulting tensions that were built into the Tang imperial system, of which Buddhist monasteries’ economic position was a symptom, rather than the cause. The first problem Ch’en describes was that Buddhist monks and monasteries were tax exempt. After explaining the Tang tax codes, Ch’en describes how the state sold ordination certificates to raise emergency funds during times of crisis. These ordination certificates were basically sold as tax exemptions to people who had no intention of actually becoming monks.25 Ch’en argues that local officials continued this practice after the central government stopped and the ranks of monks swelled. So the real problem was that local officials were enriching themselves at the expense of the central government. In fact, Ch’en notes an instance where a local official compelled people to become monks to gain revenue. Thus it was local officials who were guilty rather than Buddhist monasteries or monks. Had this option been closed to local officials, it is likely that they would have found some other way to appropriate tax revenue. When Ennin petitioned to have his disciples ordained in Yangzhou, he was informed ordination was only possible at one of two ordination platforms, one at Mt. Wutai and the other in the capital. So in Yangzhou, at least, the regulations concerning ordination seem have been enforced. The situation was similar for monastery lands, which were essentially manipulated by local landowners to escape from tax obligations. Local officials and wealthy landlords would either donate their land to an existing monastery, or build a monastery on their land. Then they would petition to have the monastery designated an imperial monastery, in which case the monastery land would be exempt from taxes, even 25 Ch’en, Economic Background, 80-4; Weinstein, Buddhism in the T’ang, 61, 107. 234 though the former landowner would continue to control it through the monastery.26 Although at times the arrangement may have been mutually beneficial, monks resented this arrangement, which essentially made monastic property the private property of a local magnate, as Ch’en’s own examples show.27 At any rate, the instigator of these transactions was the rich, local donor, not the Buddhist monasteries, and again the conflict was between local and central interests, rather than between Buddhism and the state. In addition to this lost revenue, Ch’en argues that support of monks and building monasteries was extremely expensive. This is undoubtedly true and the numerous examples he cites make it clear that huge amounts of resources were poured into building monasteries. However, again, as Ch’en’s own examples show, it is hard to know how much of these funds were coming from the state and how much from private donors.28 Indeed, in many cases it is almost impossible to tell the difference. Local bureaucrats supported Ennin throughout his travels and it is impossible to tell if these donations were coming from state funds or from the individuals. When monasteries and individuals housed Ennin, it was at their expense rather than the state’s, although the state mandated these services be provided. If the purpose of the Huichang persecution was primarily financial, then there is quite a bit of irony that the campaign began directed against unordained monks, since they were precisely the monks who were not receiving government support and so were not a direct drain on government coffers. Of course, the complaint that monasteries were enriching themselves at the expense of the people who 26 Ch’en, Economic Background, 97-8. Chen states that it is unclear whether monasteries lands were taxed or not, but the texts he cites make it sound as though some were and others not. In context of his argument, it would make sense if the land of private monasteries’ lands were taxed, but imperial monasteries lands were not. 27 Ch’en, Economic Background, 99-100. 28 Ch’en, Economic Background, 83-87. 235 voluntarily donated to them is undeniable, and various attempts were made to prohibit or lessen donations.29 Of course, donations to monasteries and monks were often accompanied by requests to perform rituals, as in the case of the huge donations to Mt. Wutai by Emperor Wuzong before the persecution. These were payment for spiritual services. Herein lies a major oversight of Ch’en’s work. For example, he argues, “the upkeep of this huge body of clerics, who were not engaged in any productive work and therefore were not contributing to the wealth of the state, constituted a serious drain on the national economy.”30 Whether or not this is true largely depends on your definition of productive work. Ch’en does not even consider the possibility that performance of rituals was productive work, although it would have been a tenant almost universally accepted in Tang China. Some argued that Buddhist rituals were not effective, but not against ritual activity per se. As we have seen in the discussion of ritual in the introduction, Xunzi positioned ritual activity at the apex of economic development, or above economic concerns altogether, and scorned the Mohists, who argued that ritual was a waste of resources, as failing to understand human nature and creating a system that degraded humanity. Ch’en seems to be channeling the Mohists (or vulgar Marxists) when he defines and limits productive work to “farming and weaving.”31 Indeed, during the Huichang persecution, Ennin records that even the commoners saw this discrepancy. “The people of the city laughing said that, when they pray for rain, they bother the Buddhist monks, but, when they hand out rewards, they only give them to the Taoist priests” (6;qÚ1m—ÛVZ 29 Weinstein, Buddhism in the T’ang. Ch’en, Economic Background, 82. 31 Ch’en, Economic Background, 105. 30 236 >¸è„—HV,õm×).32 It appears the government continued to rely on Buddhist monks to do their jobs, even as it refused to pay them. It is only if you feel that Buddhism is not true and that Buddhist rituals are ineffective that you can argue monks do no work. The rationale for Buddhist monks tax exempt status was likely identical to the rationale for exempting officials, as they both were already working for the state and engaged in remarkably similar sorts of work, academic, ritual, and organizational, rather than farming or production. Ritual activities were not merely spiritual, but had a large material component and were thus tied into the economy. Indeed, this was a source of criticism. But an economy is not measured solely by material production, but relies on both supply and demand and thrives on mutually beneficial exchange. These ritual activities helped the economy by producing demand for luxury items. Monks also produced books, art, statuary, and paid others to produce these things, stimulating economic exchange and interaction which was beneficial to the economy as a whole. Ch’en’s overly simplistic definition of productive work fails to account for monks’ many other contributions to the Tang economy, in addition to their primary work as ritual specialists. In contrast, as Jacques Gernet has shown, monks were prime movers in developing the Chinese industry and economy.33 Because they had amassed considerable wealth, the inexhaustible treasury, which they were largely unable to consume individually, they were the first capitalists of ancient China. Ch’en describes these roles: monasteries were moneylenders and pawnbrokers;34 they also functioned as a 32 844.7.15. Jacques Gernet, Buddhism in Chinese Society, trans. Franciscus Verellen (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998). 34 Ch’en, Economic Background, 91-2, 102. 33 237 storage area for valuables; and they invested in time-saving but capital intensive technologies such as mills, which provided tax revenues for the government.35 Ch’en himself admits, “In all these activities, the ‘inexhaustible treasury’ performed definite economic functions filling needs of the period, at a time when many other economic or commercial institutions were lacking,” but still maintains that monks did not contribute to the economy because they were not farming or weaving. Instead, to repeat the obvious, these financial services were in and of themselves a significant contribution to the economic development of the Tang. That they also enriched the monasteries does not change that fact. Buddhist monasteries also provided a variety of social services. In both China and Japan, monks contributed significantly to travel infrastructure by planning, funding, and organizing labor for building bridges, wells, and way stations. 36 Monasteries functioned as inns for both monastic and official travelers, complementing the imperial infrastructure. Buddhist monasteries also provided for the poor and infirm,37 services that Li Deyu found it necessary to reestablish after he had dismantled most of the monastic structure.38 All of these services were beneficial to the economy and to the state, both by increasing travel and exchange, but also by creating resilience by providing for the losers in the system. If the poor were able to find some relief from Buddhist monasteries, they were less likely to steal or revolt against the government. In contrast to Ch’en’s view, in the Confucian worldview, the failure of a government is never an economic failure, but always a failure of vision, of motivation, a 35 Ch’en, Economic Background, 100-1. John Kieschnick, The Impact of Buddhism on Chinese Material Culture, 199-214. For Japan, see Jonathan Morris Augustine, “Gy#ki’s Charitable Projects,” Buddhist Hagiography in Early Japan: Images of Compassion in the Gy"ki Tradition (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2005), 84-96. 37 Ch’en, Economic Background, 295-300. 38 Weinstein, Buddhism in the T’ang, 131. 36 238 moral failure.39 Thus to attack one of the bureau of ritual specialists for primarily economic reasons is like killing the magic goose to get the golden egg, profitable in the short term, but ultimately undermining the long term goal of a prosperous state. Even from a Confucian point of view, a strong case can be made for Buddhism’s usefulness to the state. Overall, there is no evidence flourishing Buddhist institutions hurt the economy, or that the Huichang persecution had a positive effect on the economy. If we measure the effectiveness of the economy in terms of circulation and exchange, in its resilience to disruption, in terms of individual satisfaction, or strength and legitimacy of the government, then the Buddhist establishment contributed significantly to all of these goals. In Nara Japan, it was the great Buddhist spending project of the Nara period that solidified and strengthened the hold of central government.40 Ennin also seems to have understood this distinction, recognizing that the value of the objects embedded in their ritual contexts was greater than the value of their raw materials. Watching the destruction as he travelled through the Tang on his way home, Ennin laments, “What limit was there to the bronze, iron, and gold Buddhas of the land? And yet, in accordance with the imperial edict, all have been destroyed and turned into trash” (,+Üݪ„”ª».ÞÒ„ß¼µàáíâH).41 This is especially true of those objects made of materials that were not in and of themselves valuable, whose economic value derived primarily from their religious context and meanings and the labor 39 Mencius’ famous discussion with Emperor Hui of Liang comes immediately to mind. David Hinton trans., Mencius (Washington D.C.: Counterpoint, 1998), 3. 40 Joan Piggott, The Emergence of Japanese Kingship (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 236-79. 41 845.8.16. 239 involved in construction. Objects of great power and meaning were transformed into trash, a transformation that entails a net loss. Likewise, the ritual, organizational, and academic skills of the monastic community were wasted by their massive displacement. As they returned to their original homes in accordance to imperial command, Ennin reports that laicized monks were starving and suffering in the cold, and so resorted to stealing to survive.42 These monks had been trained and educated at great expense and had been providing a variety of services to the government and populace and now they were a liability and a burden. It is hard to justify such actions in economic terms. The final argument against a reductively economic analysis of the Huichang persecution is that Emperor Wuzong spent significant amounts of money building his Daoist Terrace for Viewing Immortals (wangxiantai <¹˜) outside the city and supporting Daoist temples and priests. Although his total expenditure was probably less than what he confiscated from the monasteries, Wuzong clearly valued the ritual legitimacy that money could buy. However, his failed attempts to get the literati and populace to transfer their donations and energy from Buddhism to Daoism show a failure to appreciate the complexity of religious legitimacy and authenticity.43 I treat this economic aspect of the Huichang persecution at such great length because it highlights the vast and interconnected role of Buddhist monasteries in the imperial system of the Tang and the huge liabilities involved in trying to excise them as Wuzong did. Although it is possible to argue that Daoists could have fulfilled the state ritual functions on their own, the rest of these various services were mostly unique to 42 43 845.8.27. 844.4.1. 240 Buddhist monasteries and were lost completely when they were destroyed. All of this undermined Wuzong’s authority and weakened the Tang. Conflict Between Daoism and Buddhism The Huichang persecution was also motivated by institutional competition between Daoists and Buddhists, and the emperor’s favoritism towards Daoism. In addition to the political and economic arguments for persecuting Buddhism, he also seems to have been a genuine believer in Daoism. Emperor Wuzong’s first step was to sever the links between Buddhism and the imperial institutions. As his reign progressed, he took increasingly strong measures. Early in his reign, in 841.1.9 and again on 841.5.1, he resumed the lectures held in both Buddhist and Daoist temples. Although this seems relatively equal, Weinstein explains, “There seems little doubt that Wu-tsung’s decision to rescind the prohibition on popular lectures was taken primarily to encourage the proselytizing by Taoist priests whose activities had also been circumscribed by the edict of 835.”44 The following year, at a maigre feast arranged for his birthday on 842.6.11, the emperor held a debate between Buddhist and Daoists. The Daoist monks were granted purple robes, but the Buddhist monks were not. Soon afterward, Wuzong dismissed the Buddhist monks that served in the imperial household.45 At this point, although the emperor is making clear moves against Buddhist institutions, Ennin portrays these as expressions of the emperor’s personal preferences. 44 45 Weinstein, Buddhism in the T’ang, 116-7. 842.5.29. 241 However, over time the persecution became more systematic and widespread. Again in 843, on Wuzong’s birthday, another debate was held and again only the Daoists were allowed to wear the purple robes.46 As part of the birthday celebrations, an official presented a commentary on the Nirvana to the throne. The emperor had it burned and demoted the official. He also issued an edict condemning Buddhism as a “foreign religion” with “depraved customs.” These arguments against Buddhism were nothing new, but they were usually made by Daoist polemicists rather than the emperor. The emperor also chastised the official as especially culpable because he was someone who should be an example to the common people. Here the emperor portrays Buddhism as completely inimical to the imperial institution, especially for educated officials, but also for commoners. In her introduction to Laughing at the Tao: Debates among Buddhists and Taoists in Medieval China, Livia Kohn gives an overview of their history and the basic points of argumentation.47 Each religion argued the usefulness of their own institutionalized religion to the state. Kohn explains, “In all cases, the factions tried to present their own teachings as of utmost usefulness to the ruler in active government while discrediting their rival’s ability to be of equal service.”48 It is important to note that from the 46 843.6.11. The debates began in the period Northern and Southern dynasties and were continued in the early Tang. Because early Tang leaders identified themselves as descendants of Laozi, they were favorable to Daoism. A few Daoists even argued for a complete abolition of Buddhism. The debates were stopped by Empress Wu, who favored Buddhism, and not revived by Emperor Xuanzong. She does not mention the debates mentioned in Ennin’s journal. See Livia Kohn, Laughing at the Tao: Debates Among Buddhists and Taoists in Medieval China (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995), 7-8, 34-7. 48 Kohn, Laughing at the Tao, 7. 47 242 beginning each religion defined their value in relation to the state.49 Thus the criteria were primarily functional. Clearly the arguments being made against Buddhism are coming from this tradition, but are also curiously divorced from its utilitarian emphasis. The argument that Buddhism was foreign and therefore not appropriate for the Chinese was undercut by the huge popular support for the religion. Despite the emperor’s repeated attempts to force the people to transfer their allegiance to Daoism, he was ultimately unsuccessful.50 In a sense, as long as its teachings were not fundamentally inimical to imperial authority, the religion that already had the most popular support would be the one most appropriate for unifying the state. The emperor’s failure to realize this shows a lack of political perspicacity. Granted, an emperor might calculate what was beneficial to him differently from what was beneficial to the state. But over the long term, this hardly seems a viable strategy. By the fourth year, 844, the emperor had completely dissociated Buddhism and the imperial institution. The popular festivals of Buddhist relics at the most sacred sites in the country were proscribed. The three Buddhist fasts were replaced with Daoist fasts. Buddhist rituals that had been performed continuously for the imperial household were discontinued and replaced with Daoist rituals. All of these action show a systemic 49 Later Kohn explains the rationale behind this decision, “The Chinese state, at least ideally, did not recognize any religious authority other than itself and would formally accept no independent organization on whatever terms . . . To secure its survival under these conditions, the sangha eventually developed the image of a stout supporter of a Confucian state. It presented itself as an alternative form of state-controlled religion, a different and semi-independent version of the emperor’s mediation between divinity and humankind.” Kohn, Laughing at the Tao, 18. 50 For the All Souls Festival, the emperor tries to redirect the offerings usually made to Buddhist institutions to the Taoist institutions, but it doesn’t work, “The emperor was surprised that the people did not come.” Later in the same entry, Ennin reiterates the point. “[Another] imperial edict called upon the University for Sons of the State, the Scholars, those who had achieved the status of Accomplished Literati of the land, and those of learning, to take up Taoism, but so far not a single person has done so.” 844.7.15. 243 attempt to replace Buddhist institutions and practices with Daoist ones, because Buddhism was deemed harmful to the state. Although he never questioned the imperial institutions, Ennin was critical of the Daoists. In numerous places, he portrayed Daoist practices as irrational. For example, in 844.4.1, the Daoist priests held an extended ritual out of doors. Ennin records that many of the priests fell sick from the prolonged exposure to sun and rain. Near the end of his record Ennin records an edict, “banning wheelbarrows” (ñãä) because they “break up the middle of the road” (å×m;±)[the Way, or Dao, in Daoism] and also “proscribing pigs, black dogs, back donkeys, and oxen. This was because Taoist priests wear yellow, and [the emperor] feared that, if there were much black, it might repress the yellow and cause it to be destroyed” (»¼æ,+ çèéèêëž„ßÞm×-,„ìŠè£í ,Þá[).51 Ennin portrays the emperor and his Daoist advisors as irrational. Although the manipulation of symbols is important, such prohibitions were completely out of touch with reality. The primary function of wheelbarrows and agricultural animals was practical and economic, rather than symbolic and so to treat them as symbols without regard to this practical value is absurd. Such actions negatively impacted the agricultural economy for a negligible gain in the symbolic one. In the same passage, Ennin continues, They have also ordered the prefectures and subprefectures close to the sea to present live sea otters. I do not know the reason for this. Recently an imperial edict ordered the provinces to present the hearts and livers of youths and maidens of fifteen years. This also was [because of the emperor] has been deluded by Taoist priests. (ÞO"ŸŽîïð„w 9BÛ‚O»¼„ÞímŽ×0Ð歲ñòñê±ó„Ö˜em×ôõ /).52 51 52 845.8.27. (824.9.10 in Zhou). 845.8.27. 244 Here again, the symbolic or religious rationale for such request was unknown and, because it was unknown, irrelevant. A ruler gains from symbolic, ritual action that communicates with the people. To be effective such action must, on some level, be understood by the people. The widespread acceptance and knowledge of Buddhism made its rituals socially effective. In contrast, the incoherence of these requests assures their ineffectiveness as ritual, at least in social terms. Although, these practices may have been part of his quest for immortality, and thus may have been coherent in religious terms, this goal was also ultimately unattainable. Furthermore, the apparent absurdity and violence of the requests is at odds with ideal of the Confucian sagely ruler. Overall, Ennin portrays the ruler not only as persecuting Buddhism, but also as unwise and incapable of ruling effectively. Although Ennin was critical of the present emperor and of his Daoist advisers, he never questioned the relationship between Buddhism and the imperial system or posited an authority for Buddhism unconnected with the state. Instead, Ennin described the emperor’s actions in terms of his personal preferences, “The present emperor is a biased believer in Taoism and hates Buddhism. He does not like to see monks and does not wish to hear about the three treasures” (S¥,,mp„ö÷ªÚ„ôçûè„ô4ï Ó>).53 This depiction of the emperor’s dislike of Buddhism as a personal matter glosses over the vulnerability of Buddhism in a system where Buddhism relied primarily on the imperial system for justification. When the emperor decided to persecute the Buddhist institutions, they were obviously unable to compete militarily, but, from 53 844.4.1. 245 Ennin’s perspective, they also had almost no ideological ground from which to resist either. Lost Mandate of Heaven Another of Ennin’s responses to the Huichang persecution was to blame the emperor and basically insinuate that he was immoral and thus not fit to rule. Although Ennin never actually goes so far as to say this, in various descriptions of the emperor, he portrays him as immoral, violent, and irrational. Although Tang sexual morality was very different from contemporary Western standards, Ennin portrays the emperor as deviating from accepted standards. For rulers that primarily meant not letting relationships affect proper administration, either by distracting you, or by allowing women to have undue political influence. So while there was nothing particularly improper about the emperor favoring a pretty Daoist priestess, presenting her with 1000 bolts of silk and reconstructing her shrine adjacent to the palace was inappropriate in terms of its scope. The insinuation that she may have been part of the reason he was favoring Daoism and persecuting Buddhism also shows a lack of judgment on the part of the emperor. Likewise, Ennin reports that the emperor tried to make his stepmother his consort, and then shot and killed her when she refused. Egregious under almost any definition, from an East Asian perspective, this shows a lack of filial piety and an uncontrollable temper. The emperor also showed his lack of control with other capricious killings. He was accused of poisoning the Empress Dowager, because she admonished him for 246 persecuting Buddhism.54 Again, this shows a lack of filial piety. As he was supervising the construction of his Terrace for Viewing Immortals, he forced the supervisors overseeing the work to carry dirt. Later, “he drew a bow and for no reason shot one of the General Supervisors, which was a most unprincipled act” (->®Îø„8&ùú¨ ©qq„8md¸/).55 Again, this shows a lack of respect for proper hierarchies and capricious violence that was abhorrent in the Confucian tradition. The following year, again supervising the construction of his terrace, the emperor reportedly ordered a singer to push one of the generals off the terrace to his death.56 When the singer refused, he was beaten. Finally, the emperor was unhappy with the empty pit caused by the creation of his mountain, so he proposed killing all the monks and nuns and filling the pit with their bodies. His ministers dissuaded him, arguing, “The monks and nuns basically are ordinary people of the state, and if they are returned to lay life and each makes his own living, it will benefit the land” (è˜E˜WÑ/É„úÞô"„£®|ý„-W» ’).57 All of these examples portray an emperor who was irrational, vindictive, cruel, and otherwise inadequate to the Confucian ideal of sagely rule. On the one hand, Ennin would have gathered all of this information from second hand sources, and, as a member of a persecuted group, he was predisposed to think badly of the emperor. On the other hand, Ennin is a remarkably reliable source in other areas, and he was not nearly as critical of the emperor as one might expect given the circumstance. Likewise, the emperor’s drastic and irrational persecution of Buddhism, the effects of which Ennin did experience firsthand, suggests the sort of person who would be capable of these other acts 54 844.8.n.d. 844.10.n.d. 56 845.3.3. 57 845.3.3. 55 247 of violence. Finally, regardless of how the emperor actually behaved, that these kinds of stories were being told about him and seemed credible means that many people questioned his moral character and fitness to rule. Ennin also criticizes the emperor for his treatment of the army and in war. In 844.8, soldiers who been fighting on the Western front were reassigned to the rebels. They requested to be released from their duties, because of their long service. When this request was denied, they rebelled. After they were captured, the emperor had them publically executed, contrary to the advice of his ministers that they be spared because of their service to the throne. The following year, in response to the emperor’s disappointment about their lack of progress against the rebels, Ennin records that the soldiers captured peasants and herdsmen from the frontier and, pretending they were soldiers, sent them back to be executed. “The slaughtered corpses constantly littered the roads, while their blood flowed forth and soaked the ground, turning it into mud. Spectators filled the roads, and the Emperor from time to time came to see and there was a great profusion of banners and spears” (ÃéûÇeüýþÿp„‡Œ!–—"„Ê qÿ-mp‚,Á[[Êü„#$‹%&>).58 The spectacle of blood and gore is repeated again. Ennin also reports that the soldiers were cannibalizing their victims. Again, even if this was just a rumor, it suggests a general consensus that things were badly in disarray, and that perhaps the mandate of heaven had been lost. In the Buddhist value system, this behavior was certainly anathema. Ennin’s record of this period is significantly different from the rest of his journal, and it represents a unique perspective on the Huihang persecution. His record for this 58 844.7.15. 248 period is greatly condensed, often with one long entry for an entire month. The restriction of monks’ movements meant that he was mostly confined to the monastery and lacked the sense of everyday normalcy that must have continued for others. Overall, Ennin remarks, “This alas was a time when fathers went north and sons south” ('VÁ ½„S[˜/)59 a time of disarray and difficulty, when the trying circumstances severed the important filial bonds and threw society into confusion. Resistance to the Huichang Persecution by the Bureaucracy The Huichang persecution also damaged imperial legitimacy by forcing a stark conflict between Tang officials’ divided loyalties to the imperial system and to Buddhism. By creating a situation where many officials ignored or disobeyed imperial commands in order to help monks, the emperor effectively undermined his own sovereignty. Examples of this kind of behavior are especially evident in the final section of Ennin’s journal, when he was laicized and allowed to leave Changan to journey back to Japan. Along the way, Ennin was aided by various officials who continued to treat him as though he were a monk, despite his lay status. The Sillan interpreter even risked much more by hiding Ennin’s collected Buddhist materials until they could be taken back to Japan. Ennin also reports that the regional commanders completely ignored the emperor’s commands. Together, these all highlight the relative independence of the Buddhist religious worldview. Although Ennin never picks up on and emphasizes this theme, his record shows the negative effect of the Huichang persecution on imperial legitimacy. 59 845.3.3. 249 Ennin was laicized on 845.5.13, marking a return to a sense of normalcy, as shown by his resumption of more frequent entries in his journal. The following day, Ennin travels to the prefectural office to apply for permission to return home. He notes with irony, Since the first year of Huichang (841) I had sent letters through the Commissioner of Good Works more than one hundred times, asking to [be allowed] to return to our homeland, and through several powerful persons I had used bribery and schemed, but we had not been allowed to go. Now because of the trouble over the return to lay life of the monks and nuns, we could suddenly return to our homeland. There was both sorrow and joy. (‘§l¼]×äü„ðitFÖ5„;:EW„§/»ª9‚›( )Ò*»+q„ÙH§l„›ô5©‚SÐè˜ô"dö„R5:W„ q,qç).60 In his preparation to leave, he visits various friends and officials, who expressed their sympathy and did what they could to make his journey easier. Even though Buddhism was officially proscribed, the officials’ sympathy for Buddhism and for the monks undermined the purpose of the suppression. Many of the officials gave him Buddhist gifts, such as a sandalwood statue, a vajra, a sutra is silver characters, and incense. Even though he was technically not a monk, officials continued to treat him as one. One of them asked for the Buddhist robe and scarf Ennin used to wear so he could make offerings to them. All of these actions show resistance to the imperial persecution of Buddhism. The officials, who were supposed to be the ones enforcing the law, continued to treat Ennin as a Buddhist monk, refusing to recognize the validity of his change in status. Likewise, when Ennin arrived in Zhengzhou (ôÂ), he was greeted warmly by officials on the way and given gifts, although they noted that the continual flood of 60 845.5.14. 250 monastic refugees was taxing their resources. One official strongly differentiated between Buddhism and imperial system, lamenting, Buddhism no longer exists in this land. But Buddhism flows toward the east. So it has been since ancient times. I hope that you will do your best to reach your homeland and propagate Buddhism there. . . . When you have attained Buddhahood, I hope you will not abandon your disciple. (ß WªÚV8/‚ªÚ?Œ„®OMØ‚•Tý-+„..EW„ï2 ªÚ . . . Týªd[„•ô/ÓÁ).61 All of the cultural, economic, and spiritual capital this man had invested in Buddhism was threatened by the persecution. Essentially he was trying to reinvest some of it abroad, which was the only option for people who believed in the Buddhist idea of salvation. Again, the emperor’s disregard for the extent to which Buddhism was fully integrated into Tang officials’ lives results in a myriad of forms of resistance to imperial authority. The Sillan immigrant communities in the Tang were also negatively affected by the persecution, and resisted in the same ways as other officials.62 Ennin traveled back to Mt. Chi only to find that the Sillan cloister had also been destroyed.63 At Wendengxian, he met Chang Yong, who had helped him five years prior.64 Here too, he and his companions were basically still treated as monks, although they were ostensibly laymen. Chang called himself Ennin’s disciple, and in his statement to the prefectural office, he calls Ennin and his companions monks. This refusal to adopt the new status imposed by the government on the monks was another form of subversion. On his journey home, Ennin also witnessed the chaos created by the destruction of the monasteries. One result was that the system of imperial travel was compromised. The monasteries where he would have lodged were all destroyed, despite the huge 61 845.6.9. 845.7.8. 63 845.9.22. 64 845.8.27. 62 251 numbers of refugees. The Buddhist monks who had been laicized had no livelihood. There seems to have been no provision to give them land to allow them return to agricultural labor, the ostensible goal of the persecution. The monks also lacked the skills to farm. Instead, most were starving and had no clothes and many resorted to stealing to survive, which in turn brought stricter penalties.65 In terms of its actual results, it is hard to make a rational argument for the economic or social benefit gained by the destruction of the monasteries, except for the one time cash influx to the imperial treasuries from looting the monasteries. It is possible that over the long term some of these monks were reintegrated into farming communities, but the short-term results were disastrous. Ennin also recorded more outright disobedience to the imperial laws. Ennin himself made numerous attempts to bribe officials, showing a new contempt for imperial law.66 In the four regional commanderies, whose rulers were basically independent but offered nominal fealty to the emperor, Ennin notes that, “Buddhism has not been in the least disturbed” (ªÚdP„q¨ô-d).67 The persecution, because of its unpopularity, provided the military commanders of these provinces an opportunity to assert their authority by openly flouting imperial commands. Although they demurred, “If the Emperor himself were to come to destroy [the monasteries] it could be done, but we are unable to do it” (,Á®üàÁ01„V$‘r‚2žô7•ßP/), it is clear that the emperor lost face in the interaction. Similarly, the Sillan interpreter with whom Ennin left his collected writings hid them in defiance of imperial authority.68 The 65 845.8.27. 845.6.28, 845.7.3. 67 845.11.3. 68 846.1.9. 66 252 cumulative effect of the emperor’s attempt to extend his power was a weakening of his authority and of the imperial system. The attempt to remove Buddhism from its interconnected relationship to the imperial system, the bureaucrats, and commoners resulted in a weakening of the fabric that held their society together. When Wuzong died in 846.4.15, at the age of 31, poisoned by his Daoist quest for immortality,69 the new emperor ended the proscription and reestablished Buddhism, although on a much smaller level than before. Throughout his experience, Ennin never questioned the imperial institution, or tried to posit an independent authority for Buddhism. For Ennin as a Buddhist representative of the Heian court, the legitimacy of Buddhist institutions was tied up with the legitimacy of the government that sponsored and regulated them. The success of Buddhism was also tied to the benefits it procured for such governments. We can see then how difficult it was for Ennin to think of Buddhism independently of its relationship to the government and argue for a sovereign, morally autonomous Buddhism. Likewise, he could not condemn the Tang imperial system because it was an important source of legitimacy for the Heian court. To cast doubts on the legitimacy of continental practice would undermine the whole purpose of his travel and his journal to that point. So while the Huichang persecution had the potential to rupture Ennin’s understanding of the integral connections between Buddhism and imperial systems, he never took that position. In contrast, several Tang officials did affirm Buddhism outside of the imperial system. Instead Ennin chose to view Emperor Wuzong as an anomaly in the long history of imperial and Buddhist cooperation, and affirm the compatibility of the two systems. 69 Weinstein, Buddhism Under the T’ang, 136. 253 Conclusion The Huichang persecution was one of the most damaging persecutions of Buddhism in Chinese history. This is true not only in terms of its immediate impact, but also because it weakened the Buddhist institutions considerably and made them much more vulnerable to the widespread chaos and destruction that followed the collapse of the Tang. The emperor and his minister’s separation of Buddhism from the imperial institution presented a challenge to Ennin’s operational worldview, which assumed the unity of the imperial and Buddhist system. However, Ennin’s account of the persecution never directly addresses this challenge. Ennin largely accepted the emperor’s authority over Buddhism, only questioning it when the emperor unequivocally stepped beyond regulation and indiscriminately laicized monks. In his journal, Ennin never argues that the state will suffer for its loss of Buddhist institutions, but instead, he insinuates that the emperor and his Daoist advisors are immoral and irrational, and thus unfit for government, and suggests that the persecution of Buddhism is one manifestation of this irrationality. In fact, I would argue that this perception of the situation, although obviously partisan and biased, makes more sense than the equally partisan Confucian argument that the Huichang persecution was economically necessary because Buddhist monasteries were a drain on state finances. The political and economic costs of the persecution outweighed its temporary advantages. Although widely referenced in scholarship on Chinese Buddhism and the late Tang, Ennin’s account of the Huichang persecution has not been analyzed in terms of Ennin’s subjective perspective on the event and his role as a religious servants of the Heian court. Understanding Ennin’s own investments in the imperial system and the 254 cultural context within which he operated helps us make sense of his detailed, but ultimately ambiguous account of the persecution. Although Ennin’s description is by no means authoritative, it does suggest how the Huichang persecution was received and interpreted, not only by the clergy, but also by the much larger community of bureaucrats and commoners who were supportive of Buddhism. Many of their responses were more radical than Ennin’s in their blatant disregard for imperial command and their privileging of the Buddhist worldview. These responses, as well as the refusal of the military governors to persecute Buddhism within their provinces, showed the vitality of the Buddhist ideology, independent of its institutional weakness relative to the state. This chapter has thus offered a few new perspectives on the Huichang persecution and new interpretive approaches to Ennin’s record. It has also shown how Ennin’s account of the Huichang corresponds with his larger themes and the overall purposes of his record. Still, overall, the Huichang persecution remains an anomaly that is not easily integrated into the remainder of the record or of the Japanese perception of the continent. Thus, later accounts of Ennin’s travel and histories of Japanese religious travel to the continent usually follow Ennin in his silence over the meaning and significance of this event, preferring to view it as an anomaly in the long history of cooperation between imperial and Buddhist institution. 255 Chapter 7. Authoring One’s Place: The Heian Journal Tradition after Ennin As detailed in the initial chapter, Ennin’s journal had many precedents, both as a travel record by a Buddhist pilgrim or as a Japanese official traveling to China. The intervening chapters have detailed how Ennin’s journal interweaves the cultural strands of Buddhism, imperial ideology, and continental culture into a text that both reflects older arrangements and is also a response to recent developments in Japanese Buddhism, particularly sectarian competition for esoteric credentials. Ennin’s response was a particularly fortuitous one, and the subsequent centuries saw the journal genre become culturally central in the Heian court. Understanding Ennin’s journal in its Heian context requires investigating the afterlife of the journal and its relationship to the subsequent journal tradition. Although Ki no Tsurayuki’s (3Æd866-945) Tosa nikki (–¹DÝ) is usually cited as the inaugural work of the literary journal tradition, in his famous opening line, “Journals are things written by men, I am told. Nevertheless, I am writing one to see what a woman can do,” Tsurayuki both suggests the novelty of his work and consciously connects his work to the older tradition of court kanbun (']) journals.1 Each operated in a similar way within its own cultural field, staking out claims to mastery of certain kinds of cultural knowledge and substantiating those claims through the journal itself. After a brief discussion of genre and Ennin’s journal as literature, I will proceed 1 John R. Wallace, Objects of Discourse: Memoirs by Women of Heian Japan (Ann Arbor: Center for Japanese Studies, University of Michigan, 2005), 20; Edith Sarra, Fictions of Femininity: Literary Inventions of Gender in Japanese Court Women's Memoirs (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1999), 2; Nikki, kik" bungaku DÝ3Ç](, ed. %sone Sh#suke et al. L(@î4, Kenky! shiry# Nihon koten Bungaku, vol. 9 Þß5zDEOÄ]( (Meiji shoin …ŸfÅ, 1984), 1. Ki no Tsurayuki was man, pretending to be a woman, who was pretending to be a man. 256 chronologically, beginning with an overview of the court journals, then creating a genealogy of traveling monks’ journals through the Heian period from Ennin to J#jin ( Ã), and finally exploring the possible implications of Ennin’s work on the kana journal genre. Ennin’s Journal as Literature Traditional scholarship on the Heian journal literature begins with the Tosa nikki for two reasons: it is the first extant journal in Japanese, and it is very personal record, narrating the author’s grief over the loss of his daughter.2 These studies generally uncritically employ a Western, Romantic model of literature as lyrical expression.3 Although they may mention the kanbun journal tradition, these journals are not considered literary, because they are not lyrical expressions of personal emotion, but instead primarily transmit information. Or more recently, scholars acknowledge the importance of the kanbun tradition without seriously investigating the implications of this acknowledgment for their own study. Even while they repudiate the claims on which it is based, in terms of emphasis, English language scholarship has followed the Japanese. All of the major kana (6i) journals have been translated into English, whereas almost none of the kanbun journals have been.4 A few of the monk’s journals have been translated, 2 For an English translation, see Donald Keene, Anthology of Japanese Literature, from the Earliest Era to the Mid-Nineteenth Century (New York: Grove Press, 1960), 82. In Japanese, Hagitani Boku 789, Tosa nikki zench!shaku –¹DÝ:*•, Nihon koten hy#shaku zench!shaku s#sho ±Šstuv:wvx y (Kadokawa shoten ;¤f¬,1995). For a summary of the context of Heian journals, see Wallace, Objects of Discourse, 19-54. 3 For example, Donald Keene describes the dominant characterstic of Japanese journals as “emotional”. See Donald Keene, “Introduction,” Travelers of a Hundred Ages (New York: Henry Holt, 1989), 6. 4 Joan Piggott’s recent translation of the Fujiwara no Tadahira’s Teishik"ki is one exception. Joan Piggott and Yoshida Sanae eds., Teishinkoki: Year 939 in the Journal of Regent Fujiwara no Tadahira (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University East Asia Program, 2008). Others have been translated into French by Francine Herail. 257 but most have not. Recently, Joshua Mostow and others have begun to emphasize the political context of the kana journal tradition and read the journals as attempts by one faction or another to create and maintain cultural capital for political purposes.5 Resituating the kana journals in a hotly contested field where cultural capital had serious political implications has been useful in understanding the production and transmission of the journals and how they functioned in their Heian context. This new understanding also clears the way for understanding the relationship between the kana journals and journals by officials or monks. Since these other journal genres are more aesthetically opaque to modern readers, their political content is more obvious. Japanese scholars who have argued for the inclusion of Ennin’s journal in the literature tradition have done so by arguing that Ennin’s journal does in fact contain the subjective, emotional content they consider the hallmark of the tradition. 6 They cite Ennin’s lyrical expressiveness as he encounters nature at Mt. Wutai and a few other passages as evidence of the literary quality of Ennin’s journal. This kind of analysis focuses on minutiae and fails to account for the bulk of Ennin’s record—a serious misreading of the journal. In contrast to these approaches, I provide a more comprehensive framework. In this framework, rather than abandon the idea of Ennin’s journal as literature altogether, I contextualize Ennin’s journal within Japanese and Fujiwara Michinaga, Notes journalières de Fujiwara no Michinaga, ministre à la cour de Heian (9951018): traduction du Midô kanpakuki, ed. and trans. Francine Hérail (Genève: Droz, 1987-c1991); Fujiwara Sukefusa, Les notes journalières de Fujiwara no Sukefusa: traduction du Shunki, ed. and trans. Francine Hérail (Genève: Droz, 2001). 5 Joshua Mostow, At the House of Gathered Leaves: Shorter Biographical and Autobiographical Narratives from Japanese Court Literature (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2004). Wallace argues that each of the journals he describes, Gossamer Years, Lady Izumi’s Story, Lady Murasaki’s Story, and The Sarashina Memoir all have a distinct agenda that drives the narrative. All are political in this broadest possible sense. John R. Wallace, Objects of Discourse: Memoirs by Women of Heian Japan (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Center for Japanese Studies, 2005), 5. 6 A representative example is Ueno Eiko ¥oîÁ, “Nitt" Guh" Junrei K"ki ni okeru buntaisei no tokusei” ØjÙÚÛÜÇÝx-‘•;<¥=’£x•{‰ , Jissen kokubungaku r=<]( 30 (1986): 75100. 258 Chinese concepts of literature and literariness. Without summarizing the history of Chinese literary theory, let me make several relevant points. From the first statement on Chinese literary theory, literature is implicitly political; there is a direct correlation between literary production and the health of the state.7 In the preface to the Shijing, the poetry is justified in terms very similar to the rationale for ritual and, in fact, the two were connected. Like ritual, literature was held to be a special form of communication between the ruler and ruled, and its patterning (]) gave it a special ontological status. Although a human activity, literary form and patterning corresponded with and participated in the patterns inherent in the universe.8 Because great literature was, by definition, normative, it was politically potent. As a corrallary to this, literature was defined very broadly and includes many genres that would not be considered literature today, such as governmental edicts and memorials for tombstones.9 Even Ennin’s highly formulaic letters discussed in the earlier chapter might be considered a form of literature. Ennin’s journal makes sense within this constellation of values surrounding writing and literature. The primary concerns of his work—governmental bureaucracy and procedure, religious ritual, and sacred space—all describe the cultural patterns that defined the East Asian world. Although these concepts governing literature seems indiscriminately inclusive from the perspective of the print-overwhelmed modern world, theirs was a manuscript culture where written documents were rare and valuable, and literacy was confined to a small fraction of society. Contextualizing Ennin’s journal 7 Steven van Zoeran, Poetry and Personality: Reading, Exegesis and Hermeneutics in Traditional China (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1990); Stephen Owen, Readings in Chinese Literary Thought (Cambridge, MA: Council on East Asian Studies, HarvardUniversity, 1992), 1-56. 8 Stephen Owen, Traditional Chinese Poetry and Poetics: Omen of the World (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1985). 9 Victor Mair, The Columbia History of Chinese Literature (New York: Columbia University Press, 2001), 4-7. 259 within this different constellation of values is an important first step in escaping the misleading framework of modern literary studies. These ideas about literature also correspond with the concept of culture as technology, both in their concern with the mechanics of literary technique and its role in externalizing inner states and in overcoming horizontal, vertical, and temporal boundaries between people, and with the materiality of this technology, the orthography and actual written word.10 Arranging these three types of journals temporally reveals how the monk’s journals, particularly Ennin’s, form a conceptual bridge between the kanbun and kana journals. Because Ennin’s journal revolves around a specific goal, it creates a much more coherent narrative than most of the court journals. He does this not because of some intrinsic, teleological progress towards literary narrative, but because these innovations are appropriate to the goals of his journal. For example, his lavish descriptions of nature are all aimed at highlighting the numinous nature of Mt. Wutai. His expression of emotion emphasizes the efficacy of Buddhist ritual, or criticizes an emperor whom Ennin feels has strayed from the correct path. Likewise, when court women finally begin to pour out their souls on paper it is because the reconfiguration of the cultural field has made the content of their hearts culturally and politically significant. These new texts then contribute to the reconfiguration of the field. Although Ennin’s journal had ample precedent, it was hardly predetermined, but was instead an innovative response to a dynamic cultural field. Ennin’s journal then inspired other monks to keep similar records, creating a new journal genre. 10 Thomas LaMarre discusses the importance of the actual calligraphy and the appearance of the words on the page in Uncovering Heian Japan: An Archaeology of Sensation and Inscription (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000). 260 Court Journals The court journals are the earliest of the three traditions and have a variety of precedents. These include: travel journals, such as those I have already mentioned from the Nihon shoki (DEf紀) and Shoku nihongi (続日本紀); histories, including both longer compiled works and the daily records kept by the imperial household, also called nikki;11 and yearly almanacs listing the auspicious and inauspicious days, as well as the 60 stem-branch cycle. 12 Although there is ample evidence of journals that predate or were contemporary with Ennin’s work, only a few fragments and titles survive, giving us an idea of the scope of the tradition without many specifics. Still, this abundance of early precedents and various types of daily records suggest that the innovation was not so much in the decision to make a record, but rather in the decision of what to record and the evolving cultural context that rendered this content significant in new ways. The court journal genre can be divided into two categories, imperial journals and courtier journals. Imperial journals, either kept by the emperor, or about the emperor by someone else, were more like public records since the emperor was the embodiment of the state.13 Then from this practice, the innovation was the decision to keep a private record in addition to the court record. 11 The geki no nikki (¯Ý=DÝ) and naiki no nikki (ôÝ=DÝ) were daily records of the outer and inner imperial courts. Ikeda Naotaka í‚ýS, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki” ;O=']DÝ, in Nikki kik" bungaku DÝ3Ç](, ed. %sone Sh#suke et al. L(@î4, Kenky! shiry# Nihon koten bungaku, vol. 9, Þß5zDEOÄ]( (Meiji shoin …ŸfÅ, 1984), 7-9. 12 Hayashi 1993. Cited in Gustav Heldt, “Writing like a Man: Poetic Literacy, Textual Property, and Gender in the ‘Tosa Diary’,” The Journal of Asian Studies 64, no. 1 (2005): 13. 13 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 9. 261 Many early journals were merely copied into these yearly almanacs. The earliest example for such a practice, which seems to have been widespread, dates from 746. 14 One year, Ennin also purchased a yearly almanac and copied the information from it in one of the first entries of that year, suggesting this was a practice he was familiar with.15 Court journals from the mid-Heian period consistently record such details as the weather, suggesting that this astrological aspect of journals continued. In addition to the already cited precedents that predate Ennin, there are also some references to nearly contemporary journals. From a generation after Ennin, there is the Tachibana no Hiromi no nikki (>?LDÝ). Tachibana (837-890) also wrote the Kur"do shiki (蔵人式), which, like the diary, is no longer extant. Tachibana held the office of kur"do under Uda Tenn", and an episode that he records in his diary is retold in a later history, showing that journals were sources for official histories.16 There are other journals as well where only the title remains, such as the Motoyasu Shinn" ki, (E€ ÿûÝ) and Ki no Haseo ki (3Ã8ÉÝ).17 The first extant court journal is Uda tenn"’s, which dates from after the period of the six national histories.18 It is possible that the national histories were viewed as definitive and so personal histories from the same period were viewed as not worth preserving or even as potentially subversive.19 Then in the mid and late Heian period there was an increase in journal writing. After Uda, all of the tenn" kept journals and many courtiers wrote journals. The purpose 14 Hayashi 1993. Cited in Gustav Heldt, “Writing like a Man,” 13. See 840.1.15. 16 The episode is found in Nihon sandai jitsuroku DEÓ\r, ed. Tokihira Fujiwara •l[5 and Kuroita Kasumi è{Ëë. Yoshikawa k!bunkan ½¤ï]«, 1978; Sandai jitsuroku 886.12.19, and mentioned in Nikki bungaku jiten DÝ](P, ed. Ishihara Sh#hei £lÅ5 (Bensei shuppan ÆÇJK, 2002), 347. 17 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 7. 18 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 7. 19 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 7. 15 262 of imperial journals was to memorialize and aggrandize the tenn" and imperial institution.20 Because of the ritualization of government during the Heian period, courtiers needed an in-depth knowledge of ritual precedent and the specifics of rituals performance.21 Journals became a way to pass this knowledge on to posterity and were used regularly as handbooks for ritual and bureaucratic precedent, which is undoubtedly one of the reasons why more journals from this time survived.22 The intense cultural competition between different factions motivated the creation of private journals, in addition to the public records being kept by the imperial court. Several features of these kanbun journals encourage us to see them as histories and handbooks, rather than as a personal, confessional form. Many of the journals exist under several different titles, were often added to by later authors, and the authors rarely identified themselves.23 These features undermine the idea of the subjective, autonomous author and suggest more of a corporate mentality. The journals are also not written in literary kanbun, but in hentai kanbun (@<']), which is very similar to the komonjo (O]f) forms of historical records.24 There are also many examples where courtiers refer to journals to answer questions on protocol, or were asked by the tenn" if they had a 20 Judith Rabinovitch has translated a few sections of four of these imperial journals. Judith Rabinovitch, “Some Literary Aspects of Four Kambun Diaries of the Japanese Court: Translation with Commentaries on Excerpts from Uda Tenn# Gyoki, Murakami Tenn# Gyoki, Gonki, and Gyokuyo” xA']DÝ=]P t, Yokohama kokuritsu daigaku jibun kiy" dai ni rui: gogaku, bungaku žB<æL(q]3á Ì1g, b(“]( 39 (October 1992), 1-31. 21 Yoshida Sanae, “Aristocratic Journals and the Courtly Calendar: The Context of Fujiwara no Tadahira’s Teishink!ki,” in Teishinkoki: Year 939 in the Journal of Regent Fujiwara no Tadahira, ed. Joan Piggott and Yoshida Sanae (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University East Asia Program, 2008), 8-15. 22 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 7. 23 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 7. 24 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 8. 263 journal to justify certain actions, showing how journals became essential references in the increasingly ritualized government of the court.25 Comparing kanbun and kana journals, Gustav Heldt describes the role of court journals: While most literary scholars tend to contrast the Tosa Diary with a generically ‘public’ male diary genre written in kanbun, many of these journals were in fact marked as ‘private’ or ‘personal’ by their writers, who used terms such as shiki (personal record) or watakushi nikki (personal journal) when referring to kanbun journals organized around the lives of private individuals. Such journals were ‘private’ not in a sense of their content being particularly personal or compromising, but rather because they were a form of property owned and circulated within a household rather than in the court at large.26 Personal kanbun journals were not personal in content, but in ownership. This was in contradistinction with the public records, the geki no nikki (¯Ý=DÝ) and naiki no nikki (ôÝ=DÝ). Individual kanbun journals were not comprehensive, describing only their author’s role.27 Again, the innovation was not so much the decision to keep a journal as the repositioning of the journal as a private form of cultural capital. Although Heldt’s description of the Teishink"ki (C,0Ý) as the “first diary in the Heian period organized around the experiences of someone outside the imperial family” is problematic, it accurately speaks to the momentous way in which the genre was now being deployed.28 In this iteration, the journal was no longer just a practical record for the various reason described above, but an extension of the cultural capital of that particular individual. Heldt continues, “By marking itself as a personal account, Tadahira’s diary distinguished 25 Ikeda, “Ch!ko no kanbun nikki,” 8. Heldt, “Writing like a Man,” 12. 27 Horiuchi Hideaki |ô†w, “Nikki kik# bungaku” DÝ3Ç](, in Nikki kik" bungaku DÝ3Ç] (, ed. %sone Sh#suke et al. L(@î4, Kenky! shiry# Nihon koten bungaku, vol. 9, Þß5zDEOÄ ]( (Meiji shoin …ŸfÅ, 1984), 2. 28 Heldt, “Writing like a Man,” 11. This statement is problematic because Ennin’s journal precedes is by almost a century, as do several other records which are no longer extant. 26 264 him from the general body of the court in such a way as to imply his equivalence with the imperial family, whose members had been compiling such journals beginning in Uda’s reign.”29 Although there were many journals kept by courtiers outside the imperial family, since none are extant, it is hard to say to what degree they were marked as personal accounts. Kanbun journals were private, but not personal, belonging to a lineage rather than the imperial records. However, they were still implicated in the imperial system and the journal’s titles often came from the court position of the author, rather than from their personal names. This is true of the most kana journals as well. Although the journal functioned as an extension of an individual, it was not necessarily as an autonomous subject, but rather as a node in network of social relations mediated by the imperial system. The emphasis on the private diary corresponds with the privatization of power throughout the Heian period. Heldt points out, Rather than simply recording their writer’s experiences, individual journals shaped those experiences into a textual form of knowledge that was tangible and inheritable by certain persons. In other words, they constituted cultural knowledge about bodily dispositions and conduct in court ritual, the physical ownership of which marked their owners as part of a lineage.30 Journals became the foundation for the cultural capital of certain lineages, embodying the cultural knowledge of an important figure in the lineage and transmitting it to future generations. The possessor of the journal was acknowledged as the head of the house. Whether or not the actual content of the journal was necessary to fulfill that role, the journal became a symbol of authority. For Ennin’s lineage, the presence of the journal 29 30 Heldt, “Writing like a Man,” 12. Heldt, “Writing like a Man,” 14. 265 was as important as the content. Future accounts of his time in China often differ substantially from the account in his journal but are still legitimized by its existence. In terms of content, the kanbun journals predictably record those things that would be useful for progeny in a similar situation, such as imperial ceremonies and decisions that establish precedents. They also include information about the weather, which might seems rather prosaic and inconsequential, except that for those living in an agricultural society, their fate was very much connected to the right amount of rain at the right time of year and a major raison d’être of the imperial institution was to provide the appropriate rituals and offerings to ensure the proper weather and a successful harvest. Many of these observations hold true for Ennin’s journal as well. Also, as Ennin’s journal predates most of the courtier diaries, Ennin can be considered an early developer of this use of the journal. For example, Ennin’s record was clearly written with the sectarian competition between the Tendai and Shingon sects in mind and was considered private in the sense of being property of the Tendai sect. The esotericization of knowledge in early Heian Buddhism also meant the individualization of knowledge. The dictum that enlightenment could be obtained “in this very body” through ritual required individual bodies. Individuals received initiations and oral transmissions, in contrast to a corporate tradition that could be embodied in a library filled with sutras and exegetical works. In addition to gathering sutras, mandala, and ritual paraphernalia Ennin gathers initiations and spiritual experiences at sacred sites. His record of his initiations in Changan and his numinous experiences on Mt. Wutai become sources for his spiritual legitimacy. This prestige is then transmitted through his journal. The focus of Ennin’s 266 journal is the result of this new esoteric emphasis and is quickly imitated by subsequent monks. Monk’s Journals In contrast to the courtier tradition, where the links between Ennin’s diary and the developments of the genre are indirect, the development of the Buddhist travel journal appears to be a direct response to Ennin’s journal. Although Ennin’s journal had various precedents, both continental and Japanese, his journal also combined these elements in a new way and added new emphasis, based on the newly configured cultural fields, and it was this combination that subsequent Japanese monks found compelling. Let me briefly return to this history to situate Ennin’s journal between what came before and after. Ennin’s reconciliation of the imperial and Buddhist worldviews echoes works by earlier continental travelers, such as Xuanzang and Faxian, but his emphasis on ritual as a means of integration, especially esoteric ritual, is new. Like them, Ennin also records details about religious lore, especially connected with holy sites he visits. When Ennin returns to Japan he takes the extra step of reconstructing these sites and the rituals associated with them in Japan. Again, Ennin’s emphasis on ritual practice is largely new. Ennin’s focus on the administrative details makes sense given the Heian court’s interest in Tang administration and corresponds with what we know of earlier Japanese monks study in China. For subsequent monks, these issues become less important. Overall, Ennin’s emphasis on ritual is also pronounced due to his specific mandate to seek out esoteric Buddhist learning, texts, and initiations for the Tendai sect. Likewise, Ennin’s 267 accounts of sacred space become central to Ennin’s journal and to the genre, although it was not an initial concern. After the Tang government was destroyed and the Heian Buddhist sects became confident of their esoteric credentials, pilgrimage to sacred sites became the primary reason for Buddhist travel to China. This shift is obvious in the titles of the various accounts. Later references to Ennin’s work emphasize the pilgrimage aspects of the record, rather than the “search for the law.”31 Japanese scholars note this shift between the Buddhist travelers from the Nara and early Heian period to the mid and late Heian, but do not theorize its cause. I argue this shift is connected to the adoption of esoteric Buddhism as the dominant model for the Heian period. In the esoteric paradigm, individual monks gained new importance as loci of cultural capital. What a monk had experienced, both in esoteric initiations and at sacred sites, was religiously significant and needed to be recorded. The journal genre was developed to fill this need, in addition to the lists of “catalog of texts from the Tang” written by earlier monks. Monks’ roles in bringing back continental culture also diminished. The deterioration of the Tang dynasty created a period of turmoil, where travel to China was dangerous. Private merchants filled the role played by the embassies in supplying Chinese luxury items and texts to Heian aristocrats, with far less cost or any risk to the prestige of the court.32 These merchants benefited from the Song government’s favorable 31 In the Shakky" mokuroku (釈教目録) Ennin’s diary is referred to as the Record of a Pilgrimage (Junreiki ÛÜÝ) and even later in the Ry!doroku (竜堂録) it is called Record of a Pilgrimage to Mt. Wutai (Godaisan junreiki е´ÛÜÝ). See Nikki bungaku jiten, 348. 32 Robert Borgen, Sugawara No Michizane and the Early Heian Court (Cambridge, MA: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1986), 240-54; and Douglas Sherwin Fuqua, “The Japanese Missions to Tang China and Maritime Exchange in East Asia, 7th-9th centuries” (PhD diss., University of Hawai"i, 2004), 162-200.. 268 view of trade that resulted in an expansion of both external and internal trade.33 Heian rulers continued to be interested in political developments on the continent, but the Song was never as large a presence in the cultural imagination of the Heian court as the Tang had been.34 The turmoil at the end of the Tang created a situation where the Heian court was able to preserve Buddhist and literary texts that were lost in the continent. Chinese literati became aware of the situation and various texts were reimported to China. Although the number of texts was not significant, this is symptomatic of the shift in the relationship between the Heian court and Song dynasty.35 In the remaining section of this chapter, I will analyze the accounts of the various monks who followed Ennin in order to determine the trajectory of the genre. I will also look at some monks who did not keep journals to see how the role of Buddhist monks shifted over the Heian period. The most compelling evidence for the effect of Ennin’s journal is that so many of the monks who followed him also kept journals. Since many of these records are no longer extant or exist only in fragments, it is hard to say much about the content of the journals, but we can discuss how travel to China and the perception of China changed throughout the Heian period. Egaku (z{) was a contemporary of Ennin but his travel to China was very different, showing how travel to China was changing. He traveled to China four times over his life. His travel was sponsored by a court noble and he made the trip with merchants, showing how travel to China, which had formerly been an imperial 33 Otagiri Fumihiro a‚¨]ë, Tos" shita Tendai s"tachi: Nich! bunka k"ry! ippan DEƒ|,µè¦: D;]í‹ŒqF (Kanrin shob# '9fg, 1998), 10. 34 Ch#nen sent back copies of Song law (GHÞ) and genealogies (û×\Ý) and composed a History of the Song (EG). Otagiri, Tos" shita Tendai s"tachi, 14. 35 Otagiri, Tos" shita Tendai s"tachi, 14. See also, William H. McCullough, “The Heian Court,” in Cambridge History of Japan: Volume 2: Heian Japan, ed. Donald H. Shively and William H. McCullough (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 89. 269 prerogative, was being privatized. Egaku helped create a network of merchants that he was able to use to travel to the Tang repeatedly. Egaku also traveled to Mt. Wutai immediately after Ennin, showing how Ennin put Mt. Wutai on the map for Japanese travelers. He is also known as the importer of several complete editions of the poems of Bai Juyi (,{I 772-846), and for his role, along with Sillan monks, in the introduction of the Kannon (J>) faith to Japan. However, because he did not write a diary, much less is known about him and whatever cultural capital he accumulated through his experiences in China was not transmitted to his disciples.36 Another monk who followed a very similar pattern is Eun (ºK 798-869). He left Japan in 842 and returned in 847, traveling there and back with merchants and visited both the Mt. Tientai and Mt. Wutai.37 Again, this shows Ennin’s popularization of Mt. Wutai as a destination, as well as the development of merchant networks by which monks could travel. Enchin (#µ), who left for China in 853, five years after Ennin’s return, was the first to keep a journal, the Gy"rekish" (ÇFL Transcription of my Itinerary).38 The main text of the journal is lost, but various fragments amounting to 43 days worth 36 See Tanaka Fumio ‚;Gý, “Ennin to Egaku—futari nitt#s# ga mita tenk#ki no higashi ajia” #$:• M—1qØjèNû|OP”=?@A@ (Ennin and East Asia International Symposium, 2007.4.29) This article also argues that over the course of Egaku’s many voyages, the focus of trade and interaction shifted to more southern Chinese ports for both the Sillans and the Japanese, because of the death of Chang Pogo. 37 Tanaka Toshiaki ‚;Q…, “Ansh#ji kaizu Eun no tokai—ky! seiki no higashi ajia k#ry!” -R±:S xK=D"+kv3=?@A@‹Œ , in K"taigo no yamadera: sanka Ansh"ji no s"ken to kodai sanrin jiin -zT=´±:´è-R±=U.:O\´9±Å , ed. Uehara Mahito¥lnq (Yanagihara Vl, 2007), 156. 38 Selections are translated and summarized in Arthur Waley, The Real Tripitaka and Other Pieces (New York: Routledge, 1952). The original text can be found in Dai Nihon bukky" zensho 72 and Chish" Daishi zensh". 270 remain.39 The record starts in 853.11.19 as Enchin was preparing to go to Mt. Tientai and ends in 859.3.1 when he returns to the Heian court. There is another record by Enchin titled the Zait"ki (SjÝ Notes from the Tang), which includes a few passages not found in the Gy"rekish", such as six days at Tientai Mountains in 854.2, as well a few more days in Changan in 855.5-6. Most of the information corresponds with the Gy"rekish" and both were probably copied from a more complete original.40 Given the relative paucity of Enchin’s record, we can only make a few simple observations. First is the significance of his keeping a journal at all. Since there is no record of any monk prior to Ennin keeping a daily record of his time in China, it is significant that the monk who immediately followed Ennin kept such a similar record. 41 Second, Enchin followed Ennin’s path and traveled to many of the same spots. Ennin’s guide and translator, Tei Y!man (ÈÉÊ) also acted as Enchin’s guide. Based on the similarity of their itinerary, Enchin probably took a copy of Ennin’s journal with him as a guidebook. In Changan, Enchin sought out Faquan, one of the esoteric masters who trained Ennin. Enchin also sought out Ensai (#à d. 877), the long-term student monk who traveled to the Tang with Ennin and the record of their interactions takes up much of the existing Gy"rekish". Japanese monks in China formed a small community with close ties 39 Nikki bungaku jiten 349. Nikki bungaku jiten, 350. 41 For more about the possible relationship between the two, see Oyamada Kazuo a´‚T-, “Ennin to Enchin to no kankei” #$:#µ:=xð, in Ronsh! Nihon Bukkyo shi vol. 3 Heian ùVDEOpG: 5-[\, ed. Hiraoka J#kai 5Wd" (É´YJK, Y!zankaku, 1986). Oyamada does not discuss the relationship of the two journals, but instead examines the evidence of any possible interaction between the two men in Japan. 40 271 to each other.42 As a result, Enchin was disappointed by the chilly reception he received from Ensai. Initially, Ensai claimed to have forgotten Japanese and only seems interested in how much gold Enchin brought. Eventually Ensai followed Enchin to Changan and tried to frustrate his plans to study with famous monks there.43 According to Enchin, Ensai was forced to return to lay life during the Huichang persecution, had married and had children, farmed (which involved killing insects and is thus a violation of the Buddhist law), and was completely lacking in proper decorum and scholarship required for his position. Enchin, lamenting Ensai’s ignorance and his refusal to discuss Buddhist doctrine with him, compares him to Enki, a contemporary of Saich# who was made the head of a monastery after his return from China, despite his ignorance.44 Formerly, it seems the prestige of the trip was enough to qualify one for the office. However, the advent of the journal in the interim changed the field considerably. Acquiring texts was no longer as important as the knowledge, initiations, and experiences gained from the experience. The journal was the record of this embodied cultural capital, and it is only as a result of Enchin’s journal that we have this negative information about Ensai. In addition to the misfortune of having been caught in the Huichang persecution, Ensai’s dilemma was that he was still operating within the old model, where what one brought back was more important than what one experienced and became. Ensai did eventually attempt to return to Japan with many Buddhist texts, but the ship sank. 42 Saeki Arikiyo ¹º»¼, “T# to Nihon no bukky# k#ry!: nitt# junreis# to rainichi denp#so” j:DE= Op‹Œ: ØjÛÜè:„DžÚè , Kodai wo kangaeru T" to Nihon O\†_X•j:DE , ed. Ikeda On í‚î (Yoshikawa k#bunkan ½¤ï]«, 1992), 233-58. There are also many examples from Ennin’s journal where Tang monks tell Ennin about previous Japanese travelers. For Saich#, see 839.IC.19, 840.5.16. For Reisen, see 840.4.28, 840.5.17, 840.7.1-3. 43 Waley, The Real Tripitaka, 159-168. 44 Waley, The Real Tripitaka, 162. 272 Another contemporary of Ennin was Shinny# (nø 799-865), who traveled to China on his way to India, but never completed his journey and died en route in southeast Asia. When India became the goal, the emphasis was clearly on travel to sacred sites, rather than to collect texts, since there was no one in Japan who would have been able to translate Sanskrit texts.45 Sh!ei (ѳ 809-84) traveled to China with Shinny#, but did not attempt to travel to India, instead he traveled around China, visiting Mt. Wutai and other holy spots. After this point, exchange between the Heian court and the continent decreases considerably. In the late ninth century, a decision is made to send an embassy to China that would have been led by Sugawara no Michizane, but based on his advice and their perception of the danger of traveling to and within China at that time, the embassy was indefinitely postponed.46 There was little exchange between Japan and China from the end of the Tang empire in 907 until the Song was established in 960.47 Following the fall of the Tang, the Sillan government was overthrown in 935, and the new Kory, dynasty tried unsuccessfully to reestablish relationships with the Heian court. Japan had a close relationship with Parhae until the kingdom was destroyed in 926. The end of the 10th century and beginning of the 11th saw many pirate attacks from the Korean peninsula and 45 Takeuchi Nobuo úô,-, “Y#shu oyobi Ch#an ni okeru Ennin no Shittan gakush!” õÂöŒ÷Ãxö‘•#$=øù(K —’xúØÌûüýþÿ!І"#$‰ , Hikaku bunka kenky! ²%]í 33 (Tokyo Daigaku Ky#y# Gakubu ?®L(pþ(Í 1994): 1-146. 46 The decision about whether or not to send this embassy is discussed in Robert Borgen, Sugawara no Michizane, 240-54; and Douglas Sherwin Fuqua, “The Japanese Missions to Tang China and Maritime Exchange in East Asia, 7th—9th centuries” (PhD diss., University of Hawai"i, 2004), 162-200. 47 The southeastern Chinese state of Wuyue carried on trade with Silla, Parhae, Koryo, as well as Japan. Since the Tientai Mountains were there, they also encouraged Buddhism and tried unsuccessfully to establish diplomatic relationships with Japan. See McCullough, “The Heian Court,” 88-9. 273 southern islands.48 Although more regular trade was eventually established, the tenor of interstate relationships in East Asia had shifted considerably. The next known record, written by Ch#nen (Y‘ 938-1016), reveals how much the cultural field had shifted in the intervening years. 49 Leaving for the Song in 983, he was the first Japanese to visit the new dynasty. Ch#nen traveled with a merchant but had difficulty receiving permission to travel. His critics accused him of comparing himself to the great founders of the sect and complained that he would reflect badly on the court. They were clearly threatened that the potential influx of cultural capital from a trip to the Song would disrupt the existing field, which was fiercely competitive. In his response, Ch#nen couches his desire to travel to China in personal terms, to atone for his sins, to pray for his ancestors and for those of the nobles who were sponsoring his travel, and emphasizes that he is not interested in seeking official positions.50 Ch#nen’s itinerary in China followed patterns set by Ennin and others, but also reflected the changes in the political sphere. His visits to Mt. Tientai and Mt. Wutai and his records of miraculous phenomena he observed there were similar to earlier monks.51 In particular, that he visited Mt. Tientai, even though he was not a Tendai monk and was from T#dai monastery, which was in competition with Enryaku monastery of Mt. Hiei, shows how the journal tradition had made this itinerary standard for monks traveling to China, regardless of sectarian affiliation. After visiting Mt. Tientai, Ch#nen was 48 McCullough, “The Heian Court,” 89-94. The last full scale embassy to Silla was in 799, although, envoys to Silla were included in the 804, and 838 missions, “Intercourse between the two countries was maintained chiefly by Sillan traders, by large numbers of refugees from revolts and banditry that were bringing the kingdom to its end in 935, and by the ever-present Sillan pirates.” The last Japanese embassy to Parhae was in 811 and the last embassy from Parhae was in 920. 49 Wang Zhenping, “Ch#nen’s Pilgrimage to China, 983-986,” Asia Major 7, no. 2 (1994): 63-97; Mori Katsumi ™ñZ, “Ch#nen zait#ki ni tsuite” Y‘SjÝx•{‰ , in Sh!ky" shakaishi kenky! Ñp-• GÞßM (Y!zankaku É´Y, 1977), 95-108. 50 Wang, “Ch#nen’s Pilgrimage to China,” 71. 51 Mori, “Ch#nen zait#ki ni tsuite,” 97. 274 summoned by the Song emperor where he was treated like a de facto ambassador from the Heian court, a dramatic contrast to earlier monks’ relative lack of status. The emperor praised the continuity of the Heian court, and stated that he wished the same for his own newly established dynasty.52 He also provided Ch#nen with official travel papers and support for his journey to and from Mt. Wutai. When it came time for Ch#nen to return, the emperor presented Ch#nen with a copy of the immense printed edition of the entire Buddhist canon. Ch#nen in turn presented copies of lost Chinese Buddhist texts to the Song emperor. Ch#nen’s personal reception by the Song emperor is in marked contrast with his relative lack of impact on Japanese Buddhism, especially since it was the exact opposite of earlier monks who were influential in early Heian court, but unnoticed in the late Tang. The religious and cultural fields of the Heian court were well populated and fiercely competitive. In contrast, the Song dynasty was in its early stages and actively courting foreign visits, which had long been a standard form of legitimation for Chinese dynasties. The objects Ch#nen returned with also reveal the cultural and religious field within which he operated, as well as his attempt to influence it. The Buddhist canon that he received from the Song emperor was far more complete and accurate than anything else in Japan and signaled a definitive end to the Japanese emphasis on travel to China to retrieve texts.53 Ch#nen also brought back a statue carved from fragrant sandalwood, Tsunoda, Ryusaku trans. and L. Carrington Goodrich ed., Japan in the Chinese Dynastic Histories: Later Han Through Ming Dynasties (South Pasadena, CA: Columbia University Council for Research in the Social Sciences, 1951), 55. 53 Even in the Song, although new texts continued to be translated, the primary Buddhist sects of the period, Chan and Pure Land Buddhism, emphasized individual practice rather than textual study. See Tansen Sen, “The Revival and Failure of Buddhist Translations during the Song Dynasty,” T'oung Pao 88, no. 1/3 (2002): 27-80. For more on Song Buddhism, see Peter N. Gregory and Daniel A. Getz, Jr. eds. Buddhism in the Sung (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 1999). Zen is particularly iconoclastic towards the received textual tradition, although as many have noted, this iconoclasm is preserved and transmitted 52 275 which was a copy of a Chinese statue with prestigious Indian origins. A compartment carved into the back of the statue, which was discovered and opened in 1953, contained ritual implements, sutras, ordination certificates, certificates from the Song emperor, and a copy of Ch#nen’s journal. The cultural icons associated with Ch#nen’s journey were encapsulated in the statue, which then became a literal embodiment of Ch#nen’s accumulated cultural capital. Also, since the statue was clearly designed to become an object of veneration, Ch#nen seems to have already been designing and shaping his legacy. Despite his promise that he was travelling for purely personal reasons, Ch#nen’s actions upon his return suggest he intended to establish a new sect, an effort that was ultimately unsuccessful. Upon his return, Ch#nen made every effort to maximize his religious/cultural capital and its impact on the field. For example, he arranged for the statue and other texts to be welcomed back into the capital with a huge parade and succeeded in making them the center of court attention for several months.54 With this attention, Ch#nen also petitioned to receive his own ordination platform, as Saich# had, clearly signaling an attempt to found a new sect of Buddhism. However, these attempts eventually failed and Ch#nen’s various contributions were co-opted by existing temples. Both the printed canon and the statue were donated to Fujiwara no Michinaga (•lm Ã) who placed them in his newly founded H#j# monastery (Ú±). The canon became the authoritative source for Buddhist texts, and many monks traveled to H#j# monastery to compare and correct their existing manuscripts. The hall housing the statue was through its own textual tradition. Bernard Faure, Chan Insights and Oversights: An Epistemological Critique of the Chan Tradition (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993), 195-216. 54 Wang, “Ch#nen’s Pilgrimage to China,” 86. 276 renamed Seiry# monastery (¼„±) after the monastery in China where it originated. Had Ch#nen traveled at a different time, like the early Kamakura period, it is possible that he would be listed among the founders of Japanese Buddhist sects. However, he travelled at a time when the rules for interaction between the sects were set and when the political powers that be were intent upon solidifying their power and maintaining the status quo. Instead, Ch#nen’s significant contributions were co-opted by the most powerful man of the age, Fujiwara no Michinaga. The experiences of the last few monks to travel to the continent in the Heian period, Jakush# ([‰ c.962-1034), J#jin (Âà 1011-1081), and Kaikaku (÷ ca.1082) are best understood in light of Ch#nen’s failed attempt to establish his own sect. All three monks left later in life and did not return to Japan, stating clearly that their interest in travel to the continent was purely private. Similarly, all were interested in pilgrimage, rather than gathering texts. Since they were older and did not return to Japan, there was no danger that they would disrupt the existing social order with great new influxes of cultural capital. Indeed, this decision not to return was made deliberately to keep their motives pure, which in fact increased their religious capital. That Jakush# and J#jin sent copies of their journals back with returning disciples suggests that they were still concerned with their legacies, although in a different way than earlier monks. Rather than establish new sects or themselves as leaders, they were probably interested in increasing the prestige of their existing sect. Let us look at each monk’s experiences individually. Jakush#’s biography is distinct from the monks who preceded him. Before he became a monk, he had a successful career as a mid-level official, serving as chamberlain 277 (kur"do vq) and as governor of Mikawa (Óã). When his wife died, he took the tonsure. Because his journey came at the end of his life and he was not a career monk, competition between sects for prestige must have played less of a role in his motivation to travel to the Song.55 Instead he was motivated more by a personal desire for religious fulfillment. Likewise, Jakush# stayed in the Song and died there, sending his journal, the Rait" nikki („jDÝ Journal from the Tang) back to Japan. His is the first monk journal with the word nikki in the title, indicating perhaps the rising significance of the genre over the previous century. Unfortunately it is not extant today and what little we know about Jakush# comes from references to him in J#jin’s journal.56 Jakush#’s experiences in the Song show how the relationship between Heian and continental Buddhism had shifted. Like earlier monks, Jakush# brought a list of doctrinal questions written by the head of the Heian sect, Genshin (\, 942-1017), to be answered by Song Tendai (Tientai) leaders. What is new is that Genshin also sent a copy of his own doctrinal work, which J#jin reports was well received, although he was disappointed that it had not been widely circulated.57 So, already the relationship of the Heian Buddhist establishment to the continent had changed. In addition to taking lists of questions, which Ennin had also done, Heian monks submitted their own work to contribute to the doctrinal development of the sect. Jakush# lived in the Song for thirty years and over this period he sent many texts to the court and corresponded with members of the court, suggesting much more regular 55 Otagiri, Tos" shita Tendai s"tachi, 16-7. Otagiri, Tos" shita Tendai s"tachi, 15. 57 Robert Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels from Center to Center (with Some Periphery in between),” in Heian Japan, Centers and Peripheries, ed. Mikael Adolphson, Edwards Kamens, and Stacie Matsumoto (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2007), 390. 56 278 contact, though unofficial, between the Heian court and the continent.58 In a letter to Jakush#, copied into J#jin’s journal, Fujiwara no Michinaga complains about the poor quality of those texts brought by merchants and thanks Jakush# for the higher quality texts he has sent. This suggests that a variety of texts were readily available and the cultured Japanese exercised cultural authority and autonomy by discriminating between them and selecting the very best. Song elites were also much more interested in Heian Japan than the Tang court had been. Jakush# was befriended by Song historian Yuanyi and was undoubtedly a primary informant for the section on Japan in his history, which is the longer and more detailed of any prior Chinese history of Japan.59 J#jin’s (Âà 1011-1081) experiences in the Song reflect an orientation and cultural context similar to Jakush#. J#jin traveled to the Song 68 years after Jakush# and was the only monk known to have traveled to the Song during that period.60 J#jin’s journal, A Record of a Pilgrimage to Mt. Tientai and Mt. Wutai (],µÐµ´Ý), covers from 1072.3.15 to 1074.6.2 and is second only to Ennin’s in length and detail. 61 With the notable exception of the work by Robert Borgen, J#jin’s work has been largely neglected in Western scholarship. Because his journal is so detailed, it provides a clear view of the way the genre had developed since Ennin. 58 Otagiri, Tos" shita Tendai s"tachi, 14. Robert Borgen, “Through Several Looking Glasses Brightly: A Japanese Copy of a Chinese Account of Japan,” Sino-Japanese Studies 2, no. 2 (1990): 7. 60 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 388. 61 The complete text of the journal can be found in Dai nihon bukky" zensho 72.22. A recent edition has recently been published by Fujiyoshi Masumi •Ch&, San Tendai Godai sanki ],µÐ˜´Ý, vol.1 (Osaka: Kansai Daigaki Shuppa L^:xåL(JK), 2007. See also, Fujiyoshi Masumi •Ch&, San Tendai Godai sanki no kenky! ],µÐ˜´Ý=Þß (Kansai daigaku t#sei gakujutsu kenky!jo s#kan xåL(?å(âÞßM•þ , 2006). See also, Shimazu Kusako b} •Á, J#jin Ajari no Haha no sh!, San Tendai Godaisan ki no kenky! ÂÃ_`a!V“],µÐµ´Ý=Þß (Daiz# shuppan LvJK, 1959). 59 279 In addition to the previous examples, J#jin’s journal provides clear evidence that these journals were circulating within the monastic community and could be copied for use as guidebooks for those traveling to China. When J#jin is crossing the sea to the continent and birds land on his boat, he mentions that something similar is recorded in Ennin’s journal, suggesting he had a copy with him to consult.62 J#jin must have anticipated his own journal being used in this way, which may have been part of his motivation in sending it back to Japan.63 There is evidence he also took a copy of Enchin’s biography and Ch#nen and Jakush#’s journals.64 For example, when J#jin reached Mt. Tientai, he quotes Enchin’s biography to describe the mountain, in addition to other Chinese written sources, such as accounts of travel to Mt. Tientai.65 Robert Borgen treats these instances in “The Case of the Plagiaristic Diary,” arguing persuasively that the journal form should by no means be considered original, first person reporting but that it also consists of extended quotations from other sources, many of which are unmarked. I agree with Borgen’s assessment of the journal, and extend it by contextualizing J#jin’s journal in the larger genre of monastic journals. As we have seen, originality and personal expression were not important values in the genre. Instead, the purpose of the record was to transmit cultural and religious information, confirm the similarity of continental and Heian culture, and generate religious prestige through travel to sacred sites. For all of these purposes, it makes perfect sense to transcribe information from other sources into ones journals, particularly if the source is culturally prestigious. 62 San Tendai Godai sanki, Enkyu 4.3.22. Borgen, “Plagiaristic Journal,” 66. 64 Borgen, “Plagiaristic Journal,” 72. 65 Borgen, “Plagiaristic Journal,” 67. 63 280 The circumstances of J#jin’s passage to China show how the religious and cultural needs of the Heian court had shifted. As with all of the monks after Ennin, J#jin was not part of an official embassy. All however, had some aristocratic sponsorship or at least the tacit approval of powerful people in order to be able to make the journey at all. J#jin’s case proves this point. On the one hand, he actually had to sneak out of Japan and he and his disciples spent several days hiding aboard a merchant ship waiting for a favorable wind. Although he requested permission to travel from the court, he left before it was granted. On the other hand, since Fujiwara patrons gave him luxury items to offer as donations on their behalf at holy sites in China, they must have known and approved of his plans. Although Borgen offers the explanation that “J#jin may have feared calling unwanted attention to the valuable goods he took with him to defray the costs of the journey and to use at offerings at Chinese holy mountains. [Or] alternatively, he may have worried that the tacit encouragement received at court would carry no weight in the provinces,” I think that J#jin’s need for secrecy makes much more sense in light of what we know of Ch#nen.66 It was not the nobles or local elites whose opposed Ch#nen’s travels, but the other Buddhist sects, because of the threat that his activities posed to the status quo of power arrangements. They only conceded to let Ch#nen leave after repeated assurances of the private nature of his travel, which he then completely disregarded after his return. J#jin was actually traveling for private reasons and his decision to stay in China may have been calculated to confirm the purity of his motivation. J#jin’s mother’s journal, which I address in the next section, also seems aimed at confirming J#jin’s sincerity of purpose. 66 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 388-9. 281 In China, his experience with the Song government was similar to Ch#nen and Jakush#’s. Initially, the Song officials were unsure how to treat him and his travel permit was issued to his interpreter and guide, Chen Yong.67 Eventually, he was summoned to meet the emperor, who treated him as though he were an official ambassador from Japan. When he traveled to Mt. Wutai, it was with an escort provided by the Song emperor. The differences between Ennin and J#jin’s journals show how much the political relationship between China and Japan had changed over the course of the Heian period. The Heian court no longer felt it was necessary to send official embassies to China. Although a decision was never made to this effect, the embassies were allowed to lapse and the role they played in bringing continental cultural, religious, and luxury items to Japan was filled by private merchants. The Song, on the other hand, was threatened militarily and was anxious to establish diplomatic relationships with its neighbors who were culturally sympathetic.68 J#jin’s interview with the Song emperor is similar to many others found in both Chinese and Japanese sources, but J#jin’s answers wildly exaggerate Japan’s distance, size, and prosperity. Although this probably reflects inadequate information rather than willful dissimulation, it also reflects a desire to portray Japan as somehow commensurate with China. Even in a time of disarray, the total economic output of China dwarfed that of Japan, but relatively speaking, the peace and prosperity of the Heian contrasted with the recent collapse of the Tang. Ennin, on the other hand, is clearly trying to argue for the Heian court’s cultural unity with continental models, but he never suggests that the two are equal in size or wealth. Rather, Ennin 67 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 389. Morris Rossabi, “Introduction,” in China Among Equals: The Middle Kingdom and Its Neighbors, 10th14th Centuries (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1983). 68 282 repeatedly expresses amazement at lavish expenditure and displays at Buddhist festivals, with the implication that they are far grander than what would be possible in Japan. J#jin’s journal also contains material similar to Ennin’s, such as descriptions of rituals, bureaucratic documents, and descriptions of sacred space, but with some significant differences in how the material is treated.69 J#jin not only studied Chinese ritual, but he taught a ritual to some Song monks. He is also asked by the Song emperor to pray for rain. His prayer is so successful that he is asked to pray again for the rain to stop, which it does. When he is asked by the emperor if he is the best rainmaker in Japan, J#jin replies that there are many better. These examples suggest that J#jin saw the relationship between the Song and Heian court as one of equals engaged in mutually beneficial exchange. Another major change is the shift from a focus on searching for the law (guh" Ù Ú) (procuring texts) to pilgrimage to sacred sites (junrei ÛÜ), a difference reflected in the titles of the two works.70 Like Ch#nen, J#jin brings texts that were lost in China and exegetical works by Japanese monks to share with his Song colleagues. However J#jin is less interested than Ch#nen in gathering new Buddhist texts.71 J#jin asks about Genshin’s work, which was brought by Jakush#, and is disappointed to hear that it has not been widely circulated.72 He envisions the textual relationship as an exchange rather than as importing new ideas and new cultural technology from China to Japan. Although the model of culture as technology is still valid, in the Japanese perception the cultural disparity between the China and Japan has lessened or disappeared. Of course, even J#jin 69 Borgen, “Plagiaristic Journal,” 65. Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 390. 71 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 389. 72 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 390. 70 283 does not consider the possibility of a fundamental difference between Japanese and Chinese cultures. Instead, the comparison is between the relative success of the Heian and Song state to implement the same culture. Thus, J#jin’s primary purpose is to visit sacred sites around China. Here too, he takes his cues from earlier travelers and wants to visit the same spots, Mt. Tientai, Mt. Wutai, and Changan. Although he is able to visit the two holy mountains, he does not travel to Changan, because he is told that the monasteries there have greatly declined.73 Like earlier Japanese travelers, J#jin is interested in earlier Japanese monks and, indeed, is the sole source for much information about them. This emphasis also suggests an anxiety about the effect that Japanese monks were having on the continent and a desire that they contribute in some significant and lasting way. Finally, in a gesture that epitomizes the differences between J#jin and Ennin’s journals, J#jin presented a copy of Ennin’s journal to the Song emperor. On the one hand, this gesture of textual tribute reinforces ideas of continental centrality and universality. J#jin is presenting evidence of the Heian court’s cultural accomplishments to be judged by the Song emperor, emphasizing Japan’s long history of participation in continental culture and providing evidence of its universality and pervasiveness. On the other hand, the presentation of Ennin’s journal could also be seen as an assertion of Japanese equivalence or even superiority. The Heian author is put in a position to speak authoritatively and critically about continental history. J#jin also left out the fourth section about the Huichang persecution. The decision to excise this section is a form of authorship in deciding which information is suitable for the audience. Here the Heian 73 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 389. 284 court becomes the site of historical authority, passing judgment on neighboring regimes, the now defunct Tang, and the newly formed Song empire. The difference between Ennin and J#jin’s level of confidence in Heian cultural accomplishments vis a vis the continent has led some Japanese scholars to anachronistically characterize J#jin as a nationalist.74 Although both monks show a special kinship with other Japanese Buddhist travelers, contemporary and past, they still had more in common with continental literati than with Heian peasants. Both Ennin and J#jin saw themselves as representatives of the Heian state and continually compared its cultural achievements with those of the continent. Their sense of a shared universal culture and religion made the comparison more plausible. It was a comparison of degree and kind, rather than of incommensurable opposites. The final monk to travel to the continent in the Heian period was Kaikaku (÷). Like J#jin, Kaikaku left Japan secretly as an old man with no plans to return. He took a copy of J#jin’s journal with him and followed his trail.75 He kept a journal, the Tos"ki (渡宋記 Record of Crossing to the Song), from 1082.9.5 to 1083.6.11, and then sent it back to Japan. Kaikaku’s journal also includes poems, suggesting that the literary journals had begun to influence the traveling monk genre.76 By this time, the conventions of monks traveling to China were well established and the monk who travels to China was a compelling cultural type, to such an extent that 74 Robert Borgen responds to these claims in Robert Borgen, “Japanese Nationalism: Ancient and Modern,” Annual Report of the Institute for International Studies 1 ÞßM×È (Meiji Gakuin University Press …Ÿ (ÅL(<_(Í`aÞßM , December 1998) (accessed online 11.16.09). 75 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 385. 76 Borgen, “J#jin’s Travels,” 350, see also Otagiri, Tos" shita Tendai s"tachi, 105. 285 there are records of monks who probably didn’t even exist, such as H#d# (Úm).77 There are two copies of a journal, the H"d" "sh" nikki (ÚmbýDÝ) preserved on Mt. Koya, as well as a H"d" "sh" denk" (Úmbýž_), but there is nothing recorded about him in any contemporary sources. Supposedly he traveled to Mt. Wutai in 840, immediately after Ennin,78 and also planned to travel to India, but was deterred by a vision. His pattern of travel seems suspiciously anachronistic and Ennin, who would have been in the Tang at the same time, never mentions him, suggesting that his journal was a later fabrication. Still, the authority of tale is built upon the plausibility of the story and speaks to the familiarity of the type. The same is true of Kong# zanmai (”LÓX), another fabricated traveling monk.79 Kana Journals The modern study of Japanese literature evolved as part of the search for national identity in the Meiji period.80 Since the national identity was based on a shared language, this dictated that only literature written in Japanese could be considered part of the national literary tradition. Thus the kana journals were wrenched from their Heian context as one of many similar forms and put to work defining an essentialized Japanese identity. Although the kana tradition was the last to develop and was closely linked to earlier forms, it is often treated as an independent genre and the only one worthy of the 77 Joan Piggott et al. ed., Dictionnaire des Sources du Japon Classique (Paris: Institut des Hautes Etudes Japonaises, 2006), 486. 78 A copy of his journal can be found in DBZ 304. 79 Piggott, Dictionnaire, 485-6. 80 The first use of the term nikki bungaku was in 1920, cited in Christina Laffin, “Inviting Empathy: Kager" Nikki and the Implied Reader,” Gender and Japanese History: The Self and Expression/ Work and Life, vol. 2, ed. Wakita Haruko et al. (Osaka: Osaka University Press, 1999), 39n9. 286 designation of literature. Here I want to recontextualize these kana journals and consider the genre as it related to the other journal genres. The kana journals are the most literarily sophisticated, and the genre is intertwined with several other non-journal literary genres. 81 In addition to being related to the court histories and travel records, like the kanbun journal genre, the kana journal genre also shares many characteristics with records of poetry competitions, personal poetry collections, and monogatari (Hb). In fact, many alternative titles for Heian journals designate them monogatari or collections [of poetry] (V). Like monogatari, kana journals focus on relationships between men and women, and waka poetry is a major component of both. The centrality of the waka in these journals is what makes them so similar to personal poetry collections and records of poetry competitions. 82 Since Heian poetry was a social form and waka are so short, often a poem needed an explanation of the context to be understood properly. The practice of supplying such content in a brief foreword to the poem eventually led to the longer contextualization of a journal entry.83 Many of the major themes of the kanbun journals were also central in the kana journals. Buddhism and Buddhist ritual are both important, but in a different way. Rather than focus on the details of the ritual the way Ennin does as a practitioner, Sei 81 For example, the Taik" nikki is a record of a poetry contest. Joshua Mostow, "Mother Tongue and Father Script: The Relationship of Sei Shônagon and Murasaki Shikibu to Their Fathers and Chinese Letters," In The Father/Daughter Plot: Japanese Literary Women. ed. Esperanza Ramirez-Christensen and Rebecca L. Copeland (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2001), 118-9. For a discussion of precedents for kana nikki, see also Marilyn Jeanne Miller, The Poetics of Nikki Bungaku: A Comparison of the Traditions, Conventions, and Structure of Heian Japan’s Literary Diaries with Western Autobiographical Writings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1985), 71-85. 82 Miller, The Poetics of Nikki Bungaku, 84. Here she provides many examples of the interchangeability of the terms nikki and monogatari. In terms of content, the only difference between monogatari and kana journals is that one is assumed to be fictional and the other true. 83 Miller, Poetics of Nikki Bungaku, 78-80. 287 Sh#nagon (¼CžØpca. 966-ca. 1025) focuses on the social positioning of those attending the ritual, the dress of the spectators and the monks, and the grandeur of the event as a demonstration of imperial wealth and power. Since women were somewhat removed from the bureaucratic world of the court, it was never an explicit concern of the kana journals, although it does receive occasional mention. Basically, the kana journal emerged as a significant genre in the new cultural field that made women’s cultural accomplishments, and men’s cultural accomplishments in relation to women, significant. Although marriage politics and the competition to have one’s daughter chosen as an imperial consort was part of this, cultural capital was also a significant factor of court life. All of the kana journals can be read as attempts to enhance the prestige of a particular imperial consort, or courtier, or even of the tenn".84 Poetry composition, familiarity with the classics of Chinese and Japanese literature, and proper emotional responses to the beauty of nature and the seasons were all demonstrations of one’s worth, morality, and desirability, and also of cultural and political capital.85 Also, it was crucial that a courtier was able to do so effortlessly and spontaneously, proving the authenticity of one’s performance. Sei Sh#nagon’s Pillow Book (Makura no s"shi c•Á) is full of examples where it was not enough just to be able to compose a proper reply to a poem, but to do so quickly and easily. However, this kind of poetic context, or skillful repartee, or response to nature, was difficult to transmit and preserve, despite its importance. The primary form of transmission was the oral anecdote, which relies on the ephemeral collective memory. The Pillow Book is full of 84 For example, most of the work of Joshua Mostow makes essentially this argument. See also, Christina Laffin, “Inviting Empathy,” 3-46. 85 These ideas originate in continental ideas about the value of literature in ruling the state and in determining the true minds of individuals. Although the connection between literary ability and bureaucratic ability or morality seems tenuous today, these were commonplace ideas in that cultural context. 288 accounts of people telling anecdotes about the author or the princess, or them telling anecdotes about others. A journal is an ideal way to turn these intangible, ephemeral cultural genres into something durable and lasting. There was also a concerted effort in the mid Heian period by certain individuals to enhance the status of Japanese poetry. Chief among these was Ki no Tsurayuki, who, in addition to editing the imperial poetry anthology the Shink"kinwakash! (ÎOSTUV New Collection of Ancient and Modern Japanese Poems), also wrote the Tosa nikki (–¹ DÝ Tosa Diary). Heldt explains, Given the interest of [Fujiwara no] Tadahira’s family in the diary form and Tsurayuki’s probable desire to gain their patronage through his skills as a poet, it is possible to read the Tosa Diary as attempting to represent certain knowledge about poetry as akin to that concerning ritual in their value, exclusivity, and corporeality.86 This description is apt because it points to the continuity between these attempts and earlier kanbun journals, which did the same things, but with different subject matter. It also points to the temporally specific motivation. Rather than a grand narrative arc from literature in Chinese to Japanese, we have a series of specific, contingent moments where an interested party makes a claim for the relative importance of a certain form of literature. Although eventually, that claim was repeated and made by many others in different contexts, each repetition also has its own temporally specific context and motivation. For modern Japanese scholars, the choice to write in Japanese is seen as a momentous decision. However, the significance of this decision for the future development of the Japanese language literary tradition should not distract us from the 86 Heldt, “Writing like a Man,” 15. 289 continuities that the kana journals shares with earlier forms. For example, one purpose of the Tosa nikki may have been as a poetry manual.87 This demonstrates a view to culture as technology that is resonant with the earlier tradition. In the Tosa nikki itself, Ki no Tsurayuki legitimizes Japanese poetry by equating it to Chinese poetry, emphasizing, like Ennin, the similarities, rather than the differences. Tsurayuki recounts an imaginative anecdote about Abe no Nakamaro (_deÌÍ 698-770), an early ambassador to the Tang, where he recites waka in the Tang, and then translates it for the appreciation and approval of his audience. In her explanation of this scene, Atsuko Sakaki argues that Tsurayuki portrays Nakamaro’s Tang audience as “deficiently monolingual.” However, they are still represented as the arbiters of cultural worth. 88 In addition, others have noted the Chinese stylistic influence on the Tosa nikki, such as parallelism, terse sentence structures, and a consciously crafted narrative.89 Similarly, the entire kana journal tradition makes use of the continental literary tradition in various ways. For example, some literary repartees assumed knowledge of both Japanese and Chinese literary precedents. Although Murasaki Shikibu (®&Í ca. 978-ca. 1016) accuses Sei Sh#nagon of flaunting her knowledge of continental literature, she displays her own considerable erudition in subtler ways. Relationship Between Kana and Kanbun Journals One problem with positing a direct connection between monks’ journals and kana journals is how little we know about the circulation of the monks’ journals. We know 87 Miller, The Poetics of Nikki Bungaku, 90. There is an extended discussion of this episode in the first chapter of Atsuko Sakaki’s Obsessions With the Sino-japanese Polarity in Japanese Literature (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2005). 89 Miller, The Poetics of Nikki Bungaku, 86. 88 290 they were kept in monasteries and monks traveling to China made copies to take with them. There is an intriguing passage in the Utsuho monogatari (f}’Hb Tale of the Cavern) where a family is sorting through their literary treasure and find that it includes their ancestors’ Chinese and Japanese poems, a kana journal, and a journal of a trip to the Tang.90 This suggests that individual families had their own copies of similar journals, which were valued both as literary works and as reference works about China, and that women potentially had access to these kinds of journals. Similarly, many of the women responsible for kana journals came from scholarly families, which, by definition, meant specialization in Literary Sinitic literature.91 So they were definitely the types of families that may have had such texts. Likewise, there is abundant evidence that some women were educated in the Chinese classics and that such an education was actually necessary for many of the offices they held in the imperial court.92 Even if they had not actually read the texts, these women still knew of their existence and of the cultural role being carved out by the developing journal genre. Also, rather than thinking of the monks’ journals as being a direct cause of or influence on kana journals, we might just think of each journal genre as a successive iteration from an evolving cultural world. Each journal genre, courtier, monk, and kana, had its own trajectory within its cultural field, without necessarily being the cause of the next iteration. Understanding each trajectory is easier if we know what the others look 90 Edith Sarra, Fictions of Femininity, 19. Of course, it is important to note that this was a courtier journal of a trip to the Tang, not a monk’s journal. Still, most monks retained connections to their families after becoming monks. 91 Ivo Smits, “The Way of the Literati: Chinese Learning and Literary Practice in Mid-Heian Japan,” in Heian Japan, Centers and Peripheries, ed. Mikael Adolphson, Edwards Kamens, and Stacie Matsumoto, (Honolulu: University of Hawai"i Press, 2007). 92 Mostow, “Mother Tongue and Father Script”; see also Smits, “The Way of the Literati,” 111. 291 like and how they create and define the field of Heian cultural production in general and of journals in particular. Despite the attention they have received from modern scholars, women’s kana journals were not very widely circulated either. They were certainly less available than monogatari or poetry collections. In several of the journals, the authors express dismay that their work has been discovered and is being read.93 Edith Sarra argues that the position of the women’s journal was similar to the woman herself, “The woman’s memoir, like the woman’s body is deployed in a manner calculated both to entice readerly desire and to resist disclosure.” For the other journal genres as well, each can be read as an extension of the cultural capital of a particular individual, which functions in the same sorts of ways. The literary ability to produce the journals was also an important demonstration of cultural capital. A journal was capable of generating cultural capital whether or not it was circulated. Most of the time, it was enough to know that it existed. This is certainly the case for aristocratic clan journals (ie no nikki Ñ=DÝ) of the Kamakura period. Jealously guarded, they were influential as cultural capital because they were kept out of circulation. To a certain extent, the more restricted the access to the journal, the more important it was as a source of cultural capital. Finally, travel is also an element in the kana tradition. Although women were more circumscribed in their movements than men, pilgrimages to temples and shrines and travel within the capital or out into the countryside all provided occasions to write.94 93 Sarra, Fictions of Femininity, 21. For example, Bettina L. Knapp makes this argument about the Sarashinna nikki in Bettina L. Knapp, “The Heian Art Diary: Hidden Behind the Screens,” in Images of Japanese Women: A Westerner’s View (New York: Whitson, 1992). 94 292 Since travel was already an important facet of the waka and journal traditions, it makes sense that it would be prominent in the kana journals, which were influenced by both. The liminality of travel provides the writer with altered perspective on the events of the capital. Likewise, the fact that so many prominent women writers of the Heian period belonged to the mobile, liminal class of provincial governor families further supports this idea of the connection between journals and travel. One historically serendipitous intersection of the kana and monastic journal tradition is a poetic, kana journal by J#jin’s mother chronicling her feelings about her son as he prepares to leave for the Song.95 At first glance, this seems a natural and unmotivated topic and a prime candidate to support the argument that a journal is merely a literary outpouring of emotion. Yet it seems strange to dedicate an entire journal to criticizing your son for abandoning you in your old age, especially if he is ostensibly your favorite son. However, in light of the intense scrutiny faced by departing monks, what better way to answer these accusations than the plaintive poetry of an aging mother. Her journal is not just a critique of her son, but it is also an affirmation of his sincerity in his pilgrimage to the Song. Here we see the kana and kanbun journals working together to achieve almost identical aims, despite their divergent rhetorical strategies and approaches. As is appropriate to her station and her gender, J#jin’s mother’s journal is filled with poetry and complaints in kana, whereas J#jin’s journal detailed the progress of his journey and his visited to holy spots in China in Literary Sinitic, but both were part of the same overarching project. 95 For a complete translation of J#jin’s mother’s journal and commentary, see Robert A. Mintzer, “J#jin Azari no Haha shu: Maternal Love in the Eleventh Century—an Enduring Testament” (PhD diss., Harvard, 1978). 293 Conclusion Ennin’s journal emerged from the overlapping religious, political, and cultural fields and was a response to the contemporaneous configuration of those fields. More specifically, it was an effort to crystallize the various kinds of cultural capital accrued during his travels into a durable form that could be transmitted to future generations. Although a journal was by no means a new idea, as a genre it came to new prominence in the centuries following Ennin’s work. Ennin’s journal was a significant milestone in the development of the journal genre. In response to the influence of esoteric Buddhism on the religious field, Ennin inaugurated the tradition of monk journals to record and transmit the new kinds of cultural capital associated with travel to the continent. As the purposes of monks’ travel shifted in response to the increasingly crowded field of religious sects and the different needs of the sects, the journals tracked these changes. They also provide compelling evidence of the Heian courts’ changing relationship with the continent as well as of the cultural continuities that lay beneath that change. This underlying framework provides a more complete perspective on the development of the kana journal tradition. Similarly, the attempt to understand the courtier, monk, and kana journals in relation to each other has implication for each genre. In particular, the consideration of the monk journal as a genre and juxtaposing it with the others shifts the discussion from more narrowly literary considerations to the place of these genres in the more general cultural and political fields. The consideration of monks’ journals as a genre illuminates some of the difficulties of the few remaining texts. The opposition to Ch#nen’s request to travel to China and his own attempts to start a new sect make sense in light of the 294 impact of Ennin’s journal and earlier monastic travelers to China. Likewise, J#jin and Kaikaku’s decision not to return to Japan and the former’s decision to sneak out of Japan make much more sense in terms of this framework. Looking at the monks’ journals as a genre also reveals how they changed in response to the changing Heian and continental political worlds and provides another perspective on those changes. The monks that traveled closer to the founding of a dynasty were more enthusiastically received in both China and Japan. For example, K!kai and Saich#, who travelled at the beginning of the Heian period and each founded sects, are household names in Japan, although there are no contemporary records of either from the Tang. Both seemed to have been locally known, and Ennin recorded conversations where Tang monks mention having met one or the other, but neither received the attention that the monks traveling at the beginning of the Song received. For example, the Song history devotes more than half a chapter to Ch#nen.96 But Ch#nen remains a fairly obscure monk in Japan, despite his very significant accomplishments and a wealth of contemporary information about him when the statue was opened. J#jin’s situation is similar. Despite a similarly long, detailed journal, he has received much less attention in Japanese scholarship than Ennin, who traveled earlier in the dynasty. Needless to say, this has more to do with the political situation in China or Japan than the qualities of the individual monks. A new dynasty needs legitimation and cultural and political capital in a way than an established dynasty does not. At the beginning of the Heian period, there was a lot of movement and rearranging of cultural and political 96 Tsunoda, Ryusaku trans. and L. Carrington Goodrich ed., Japan in the Chinese Dynastic Histories: Later Han Through Ming Dynasties (South Pasadena, CA: Columbia University Council for Research in the Social Sciences, 1951), 49-61; see also, Gregory Henderson and Leon Hurvitz, “The Buddha of Seiry#ji: New Finds and New Theory,” Artibus Asiae 19, no. 1 (1956), 14. 295 capital, and monks who traveled to China were able to position themselves more advantageously in regards to the new configuration. Likewise, the newly established Song dynasty was looking for foreign embassies to bolster its legitimacy, whereas the more established Heian court had decided it no longer needed to send them. This general observation that new religious sects and individuals were as much products of their time and context as of their individual accomplishments emerges clearly the study of the journal tradition, as does the more general trajectory of religious development in the Heian and early Song. These insights are both widely applicable outside the narrow consideration of the journal genre. As the first to consider how Ennin’s journal describes the cultural relationship between the Heian and Tang, this dissertation is one piece of a much larger history of cultural appropriation and exchange. Reorienting our view of the cultural field in this way reveals a more accurate view of Japanese culture and corrects distortions caused by modern nationalism and linguistic essentialism. Our understanding of all of East Asia would benefit from this kind of a regional cultural perspective. 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