Astronomy of the Afterlife: The Sandaikō Debate and the Establishment of a Kami Cosmology
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Authors Wimpey, Nathaniel Hunter
Citation Wimpey, Nathaniel Hunter. (2021). Astronomy of the Afterlife: The Sandaikō Debate and the Establishment of a Kami Cosmology (Master's thesis, University of Arizona, Tucson, USA).
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ASTRONOMY OF THE AFTERLIFE: THE SANDAIKŌ DEBATE AND THE ESTABLISHMENT OF A KAMI COSMOLOGY
By
Nathaniel H. Wimpey
Copyright © Nathaniel H. Wimpey
A Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of the
DEPARTMENT OF EAST ASIAN STUDIES
In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements For the Degree of
MASTER OF ARTS
In the Graduate College
THE UNVIERSITY OF ARIZONA
2021
3
Acknowledgements
This project has been guided and supported by a number of talented and patient teachers, colleagues, friends, and family. I would first like to thank my thesis advisor, Dr. Takashi Miura, whose knowledge and direction navigating the landscape of pre-modern intellectual and religious thought proved invaluable for both the formation and execution of this project. I would also like to extend thanks to Dr. Joshua Schlachet for his endless patience dealing with a deluge of emails, and for helping me to chart a path through graduate life. I would further like to thank Dr. Kaoru Hayashi for helping me to develop the necessary skills to explore the primary sources used in this paper, and giving me further insight into pre-modern textual analysis. I would next like to thank my colleagues in the East Asian Studies Department at the University of Arizona for their continued encouragement and uplifting comments during low points in the writing process. I am especially grateful to Jingyi Li and Len McArtor for the advice, motivation, and kindness they provided me. In addition, I would like to thank my friends Hunter Jefferson, Ben Lemli, Elysia Powers, Boris Fernandez, Niki Duff, Clark Ton, Foster Gorman, and Kyle Fox for their constant support and incredible endurance taking late-night phone calls and a torrent of anxiety. This project hinged on their emotional assistance. Finally, I would like to extend sincere thanks to my parents Brenda and Terry Wimpey whose constant encouragement and faith allowed me to summon the fortitude to complete this undertaking. I owe all that I have to them. I assume full responsibility for anyone I failed to give proper credit for their assistance with this project, and obviously all mistakes therein are mine alone. 4
Contents List of Figures ...... 5 Abstract ...... 6 Introduction ...... 7 Chapter 1: Development of the Debate: Kokugaku and the Sandaikō...... 14 Chapter 2: The Sandaikō and the Influence of Western Sciences ...... 34 Chapter 3: The Debate Begins: Initial Reactions of the Sandaikō ...... 58 Chapter 4: The True Pillar of the Soul and the Fate of the Human Spirit ...... 67 Epilogue ...... 88 Appendix A: Sandaikō Diagrams ...... 91 Bibliography ...... 96
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List of Figures
Figure 1 ...... 45 Figure 2 ...... 47 Figure 3 ...... 47 Figure 4 ...... 48 Figure 5 ...... 49 Figure 6 ...... 51 Figure 7 ...... 52 Figure 8 ...... 76
6
Abstract
The Sandaikō debate was a controversy that occurred within the Kokugaku school of Japanese intellectual thought during the Edo period. Beginning with the publication of the Sandaikō by Hattori Nakatsune in 1796 and lasting for three decades without a clear victor, the debate itself centered on issues of methodology and succession within nativist studies. However, the content of the debate focused on the development of a cosmology rooted in mythology and the Japanese kami. While one group advocated for philological analysis of classical poetry, the opposing faction aimed to direct nativist studies towards the examination of ancient mythology to recover archaic knowledge. The conflict surrounding the Sandaikō exacerbated issues on leadership within the movement, as competing figures vied for principal positions. The primary outcomes of the debate would be the development of a new cosmology rooted in the power of the Japanese kami as creative forces within the cosmos. The text of the Sandaikō established a cosmology that took Japan as the center of a divinely created world. The cosmology presented here would then be expanded by Hirata Atsutane in his text the Tama no mihashira by elaborating on the role of humanity within this cosmological system, and humanity’s relationship with the kami. By examining these texts, this thesis aims to frame the Sandaikō debate as a watershed moment in the history of Edo period nativism for presenting a cosmology centered around the Japanese gods, and in competition with other systems originating outside of Japan.
7
Introduction
Now, the Land of Yomi emerged from descending material, and Heaven emerged from rising
material, but whichever came first or second is unknowable. To speak of this using principles (理
li) is a Chinese way of thinking, and is misleading.
Hattori Nakatsune, Sandaikō (1796)
The preceding passage is from Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō 三大考 or An Investigation on the Three Heavenly Bodies, an inconspicuous text within the Kokugaku (National Learning)
school of intellectual thought which began during Japan’s Edo period. The text’s foremost
objective was the establishment of a cosmology based on the creation myths of Japan as
recounted in the opening sections of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki that describes the formation of
heaven and earth, and the birth of the earliest generations of kami.1 Despite not being one of kokugaku’s more prominent texts, the Sandaikō gained some notoriety when it was published, leading to a decades-long-debate modern scholars have come to refer to as the Sandaikō debate.
The debate primarily centered on issues of methodology concerning textual exegesis, as different factions held opposing views regarding which texts warranted detailed analysis, and how best to approach the study of classical literature. Moreover, the dispute also contained a personal dimension for some of the participants who used the controversy as a staging ground to lay claims to intellectual authority, and sought to influence the direction of nativist studies during the
1 “Kami” is a term generally used to describe Japanese deities and spirits, but due to the flexible nature of the term can refer to both anthropomorphic entities with a personality and a will, or more benign aspects and forces of nature. “Kami” in this thesis will refer to the former definition, conceptualizing them as willful agents in the world, and will be used interchangeably with other terminology such as “deities.” 8
Tokugawa period. The controversy spawned out of the Sandaikō text itself, but would not fully ignite until the publication of the Tama no mihashira 霊の真柱 (True Pillar of the Soul) written by Hirata Atsutane, one of the most prolific nativist scholars of the Edo period. Atsutane expanded on the cosmology of the Sandaikō by elaborating on the relationship between humans and the kami, which he held as integral to understanding humanity’s, or rather the Japanese people’s, place in this cosmological system. He further emphasized the power of the Japanese kami, and redefined their relationship with mankind. In this thesis, I argue that taken in tandem, the Sandaikō and the Tama no mihashira constitute a watershed moment in the development of
Edo period nativism, as well as the evolution of kami centered epistemology which had been gradually gaining momentum since the medieval period. The Sandaikō served as the foundational text upon which Atsutane established an afterlife system dictated by the will of the kami, while the debate provided a new outlet for kokugaku studies outside the purview of poetry and philology that had previously dominated the field.
Atsutane was principally motivated to recover what he interpreted as the Ancient Way of
Japan 古道 (kodō). In Japanese the kanji 道 (dō), specifically meaning road or path, denotes simultaneously a philosophical system and a pursuit that requires study and mastery. For example, Buddhism 仏道 (butsudō) and Confucianism 儒道 (jyudō) are both suffixed with the same kanji, as are other artistic pursuits such as calligraphy 書道 (shodō). In other words, the
Ancient Way 古道 (kodō) as understood by Atsutane describes a philosophical system comparable to Buddhism and Confucianism, that is rooted in the Japanese kami and perfected via proper understanding of classical texts. Scholars have previously focused on several 9 moments in the evolution of kokugaku from a broad category referring to all forms of scholarship that focused on Japan rather than China, to a philological exegesis of Japan’s ancient literature in order to recover an Ancient Way. The recovery of this Ancient Way coincides with an attempt to elevate it to the status of a tradition that could rival that of Buddhist and Confucian institutions. Peter Nosco has identified three such watershed moments in this evolution, the first being the completion of an extensive commentary on the Man’yōshū, an anthology of ancient
Japanese poetry, in 1690 by the priest Keichū. The second was the “Petition to Found a School of National Learning,” sent by Kada Azumamaro to the Shogun Yoshimune in 1728. Nosco views the final moment being the Kokka hachiron controversy of the 1740s, a debate concerned with whether or not the Way was a product of human invention, or a natural occurrence.2
Furthermore, the controversy also centered on the normative value of poetry as an object of study within nativism, and is for Nosco what elevated kokugaku to a philological quest for an Ancient
Way.
I argue that the Sandaikō debate is another such watershed moment in the evolution of kokugaku, specifically as it concerns the development of a cosmology born from the generative power of the kami. The Sandaikō debate was the occasion in which Japanese nativists began to take seriously the issue of cosmology as it related to interpretations of the kami as the formative power in the cosmos, and furnished the movement with the potential to expand these concepts into other pursuits, such as the development of a coherent afterlife system connected with the
Japanese deities. The dispute launched the career of Hirata Atsutane, whose scholarship empowered nativists to pursue questions on humanities’ relationship to the gods, the nature of
2 Peter Nosco, “Nature, Invention, and National Learning: The Kokka hachiron Controversy, 1742-46,” in Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 41, no. 1 (1981): 76-77. 10
the cosmos, and the ultimate fate of the human soul. Unlike the scholarship of previous nativists,
Atsutane’s work transitioned away from recapturing the sensibilities of the ancients of Japan, and
towards recovering fundamental truths about the nature of the world and the human soul.
Atsutane’s work split the kokugaku moment between those following the traditional philological
studies of previous nativist thinkers such as Motoori Norinaga and Kamo no Mabuchi, and those
interested in research on humanity’s relationship with the kami. As a seminal development in the
history of Edo period nativism, the division exacerbated by Atsutane was triggered due to the
publication of the Sandaikō at the end of the eighteenth century, which provided a Japanese
alternative to foreign cosmological frameworks.
Overview
The following thesis will trace the history of the Sandaikō debate, starting with the
publication of the text itself. I will examine the arguments and conclusions of Nakatsune in
establishing his cosmology based on the Divine Age narrative, as well as the critiques and
rebuttals by his colleagues at the Suzunoya3. Highlighting the defense of Nakatsune inherent in
Hirata Atustane’s Tama no mihashira, this thesis will also examine the creation of an afterlife
system founded on the cosmology of the Sandaikō, and centered on the Japanese kami. As stated
above, while scholars have looked to various moments of importance in tracing the development
of kokugaku thought during the Edo period, this thesis attempts to draw attention to the Sandaikō
debate as a seminal moment within this evolution. Given the attention that scholars have given to
Atsutane’s contributions to nativist thought, I aim to highlight the influence of Nakatsune’s cosmology in his writings, and to show the Sandaikō debate as a controversy not solely based on
3 The Suzunoya was Norinaga’s private academy which he hosted at his house in Matsusaka in present day Mie Prefecture. Throughout this thesis, Suzunoya will refer to the network of students that studied at this academy under both Norinaga, and his adopted son Motoori Ōhira. 11
issues of methodology and legitimacy, but also on the establishment of a Japanese epistemology
based on the pervasive power of the kami.
Chapter 1 opens by briefly outlining the development of kokugaku studies during the Edo
period to position the Sandaikō and the ensuing debate within the history of this movement.
Despite the criticisms of its opponents that the Sandaikō deviates greatly in its approach, the text itself follows many of the conventions of kokugaku scholarship. A summary of the objectives and tropes of nativism during the Edo period will highlight the ways in which the Sandaikō conforms to and confronts characteristics of nativist scholarship, and will serve to frame the content of the debate within this movement. Following the overview of kokugaku, abbreviated discussions of the Sandaikō itself along with the surrounding controversy coupled with a short chronology of the debate will conclude will conclude this chapter.
Chapter 2 will begin by tracing the introduction of Western astronomical texts to Japan, and highlighting the influences and controversies surrounding these texts, before turning to the
Sandaikō itself to examine how Nakatsune used Western understanding of the three celestial spheres to establish his cosmology based on the Divine Age narrative. Nakatsune associated the relationship between the sun, earth and moon as rotational partners with that of the relationship
between heaven and earth and Yomi as described in the narrative in an effort to prove the
legitimacy of Japanese mythical accounts. While Nakatsune followed the broad strokes of
Norinaga’s exegesis, his conclusions represent the first step in establishing a cosmology rooted
in the Divine Age narrative, and the power of the native Japanese kami. Nakatsune saw in
Western science evidence for the claims made by Japanese antiquity, as he saw both models as
reflecting an equivalent relationship between the three celestial bodies, thereby revealing the
validity of nativist studies given the fact that other cultures were reaching similar conclusions. 12
Chapter 3 examines the initial reactions to the Sandaikō by notable members of the
Suzunoya. After the death of Norinaga, the Suzunoya began to shift away from studies on the
Ancient Way, moving instead towards the philological study of poetry. In an increasingly
marginalized position due to his continued interest in kodōgaku, Nakatsune’s Sandaikō came
under fire by the Suzunoya’s leadership for staying away from proper textual analysis
exemplified through philology. The leaders of the academy sought to excise what they saw as
speculative scholarship, that is scholarship that focused on questions that did not have substantial
evidence such as those surrounding Yomi and the afterlife. Furthermore, they hoped to solidify
their position as successors of Norinaga’s scholarship. As such, they challenged the conclusions
of the Sandaikō, and deemed it as going against previous claims made by Norinaga. Through
these early rebuttals, the stakes of the Sandaikō debate surrounding methodology and legitimacy
become clear.
Chapter 4 delves into the scholarship of Atsutane, and focuses on an examination of the
Tama no mihashira. This chapter highlights how Atsutane expanded on the cosmology of the
Sandaikō to elaborate on humanity’s relationship to the kami, and developed an afterlife system
rooted in this relationship. Furthermore, the rebuttals levied against Atsutane reveal the ways in
which the members of the Suzunoya academy attempted to maintain the status quo in regards to
nativist discourse, by continuously refocusing their criticisms on his methodology. Atsutane’s
responses to these attacks, coupled with the events surrounding the outcome of the debate,
disclose issues of legitimacy that permeated the debate. These will show how Atsutane went on
to position himself as a leader within the nativist movement. Through his scholarship on the
afterlife as presented in the Tama no mihashira, as well as his claims of succession to the
scholarship of Norinaga, Atsutane used the cosmology of the Sandaikō to launch a competing 13 branch of kokugaku dedicated to uncovering the relationship between humanity and the kami, and thereby reveal the ways in which the kami permeated life, and the afterlife.
14
Chapter 1: Development of the Debate: Kokugaku and the Sandaikō
Hattori Nakatsune, the author of the Sandaikō, was a member of Motoori Norinaga’s
Suzunoya academy, which was an academic circle heavily invested in the kokugaku intellectual tradition. Kokugaku, translated as national learning, was a movement begun during the Edo period that emphasized the study of native Japanese texts, primarily dating from the ancient period, for the purpose of revealing lost knowledge of antiquity. The goal of nativists involved in this pursuit was primarily to construct a corpus of knowledge rooted in the study of Japanese classics that could rival foreign traditions such as Buddhism and Confucianism, which these scholars believed had corrupted an original Japanese worldview. During the Edo period, as contact with Europeans began to increase with the opening of trade ports in Nagasaki,
Christianity and Western sciences also came under scrutiny by kokugaku scholars. The Sandaikō thus arose out of a movement committed to elevating Japan above other foreign powers during a period of increased globalization.
Despite this mutual goal however, kokugaku was not one unified school of thought. As nativism developed during the Edo period, the texts examined and the methods of exegetical study changed as scholars approached nativist studies with different understandings as to its purpose. Some saw the study of the ancient Japanese language as the ultimate outlet for recovering the lost sensibilities of antiquity, while others turned to mythology to parse out hidden knowledge. As such, the Sandaikō was merely the latest work in a larger tradition attempting to elevate Japan and the Japanese people to a position of superiority on the global stage. A brief overview of the development of nativism during the Edo period will reveal how the Sandaikō fit within the broad category of nativist studies, and the ways in which the text 15
conformed to and challenged various trends and tropes of the movement. With the historical
background in place, a cursory summary of what the Sandaikō was coupled with a brief
chronology of the debate, will help to frame the discussion in the forthcoming chapters.
Kokugaku through the Edo Period
A general overview of the develop of kokugaku during the Edo period will help to reveal
the nature of the Sandaikō debate as it pertains to issues of methodology and the specified goal
of recovery of ancient knowledge. Kokugaku was not generally the term used by Edo period
thinkers to define their work. While many different terms were used during this time to describe
scholarship on the ancient past, one of the most common of these was Kogaku, Ancient Studies.
Kokugaku as it is used today is mainly a construct of later historians.4 For the sake of simplicity,
the term kokugaku will continue to be used in this thesis interchangeably with other terms such
as nativism and nativist studies, all of which refer to scholarship on Japan’s ancient past.
One of the earliest examples of Edo period nativism are the writings of Itō Jinsai, who
opened up a private academy called the Hall of Ancient Meaning (Kogido). Despite being a
Confucian scholar by training, there are many tropes of nativism identifiable within Jinsai’s
writings. Jinsai rejected Neo-Confucian philosophical systems, expressed concern about the
corrupting influence of Buddhism and Daoism on ancient thought, and called for scholars to
focus attention on the Analects of Confucius and the Mengzi, which he deemed to be authentic texts. Focus on original texts seen as holding authentic information regarding the ancient past, is one of the cornerstones of nativist studies in Japan during this period, will continue to be a unifying trope of the movement, and closely ties Jinsai’s outlook with these broader intellectual
4 Helen Hardacre, Shinto: A History, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2017), 323. 16 trends. Though some scholars propose that Jinsai’s teachings, referred to Kogigaku, are better understood as a related, but ultimately independent philosophical system, many others regard this as an early example of kokugaku in Japan.5
Ogyū Sorai, the son of a Samurai employed directly by the Tokugawa, is likewise considered an as early example of a nativist scholar during the Edo period. Sorai similarly rejected Neo-Confucian thought, claiming that the ancient sages had not been solely concerned with moral cultivation but also with governance. The emphasis on morality as expressed by Neo-
Confucian thinkers would have the added effect of repressing human nature, which was based on human emotion.6 Sorai also took issue with Neo-Confucianism’s inability to grasp ancient language, as these thinkers approached ancient texts from the perspective of modern language.
Essentially, Sorai viewed philosophy and linguistics as inseparably linked.7
Language was critical for Sorai in accessing the wisdom of the ancient sages, and he viewed the study of poetry as crucial for this project. He held a particular preference for the
Odes, a Chinese anthology of ancient poetry which served as a foundation of early Confucian thought. Sorai argued that proper education based on the artifacts of the ancient Chinese sages, and the Odes, were a fundamental component of recovering ancient knowledge.8 The call to return to ancient teachings through rigorous studies of classical language is a notable point of similarity between Sorai’s thought and kokugaku scholarship. Emphasis on human emotion expressed through language became a central focus for nativist scholars, and is reflected in the
5 Philip J. Ivanhoe, Three Streams: Confucian Reflections on Learning and the Moral Heart-Mind in China, Korea, and Japan, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 159 6 Haruo Shirane, Early Modern Japanese Literature: An Anthology, 1600-1900, (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002), 367. 7 Peter Flueckiger, Imagining Harmony: Poetry, Empathy, and Community in Mid-Tokugawa Confucianism and Nativism, (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2011), 63. 8 Flueckiger, Imagining Harmony, 91. 17
detractors of the Sandaikō who viewed the text as forgoing proper philological study of the
language of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki.
The Buddhist monk Keichū is another seminal figure within the history of kokugaku
discourse, being the first to employ the fifty-sounds chart explicitly for Japanese study.9 Often
identified as an early figure within the nativist movement, Keichū has previously been called the
“father of kokugaku” due to the prestige which later thinkers, namely Motoori Norinaga, would
hold for him.10 Keichū is most well-known for his study of the Man'yōshū, mentioned above, as
he was primarily focused on the study of ancient language.
Keichū, along with both Itō Jinsai and Ogyū Sorai, thought that language held the key to
discovering historical and cultural differences between the ancient past and the modern present.
He asserted that ancient Japanese revealed the Japanese language in its original and uncorrupted
state, and characterized the difference between ancient and modern Japanese as one of loss and
decline.11 The desire to recapture lost purity of knowledge and understanding, highlighted in the
work of all three of these scholars, was one of the primary motivations behind nativist
scholarship. By drawing attention to Japanese waka poetry in his analysis of the Man'yōshū,
Keichū was crucial in directing the course of kokugaku discourse on these texts. The reverence that both Keichū and Sorai held for classical poetry is further reflected by the detractors of the
Sandaikō, who wished to focus nativist scholarship on exegesis of Japanese poetry in order to recapture the emotions of the ancients.
9 Regan E. Murphy, “Esoteric Buddhist Theories of Language in Early Kokugaku: The Sōshaku of the Man'yōdaishōki,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 36, no. 1 (2009): 66. 10 Murphy, “Esoteric Buddhist Theories of Language in Early Kokugaku,” 69. 11 Susan Burns, Before the Nation: Kokugaku and The Imagining of Community in Early Modern Japan, (Durham: Duke University Press, 2003), 50. 18
Despite his preference for the Man'yōshū, Keichū did not focus on this text exclusively.
Rather, Keichū analyzed both the Kojiki and Nihon shoki as he relied on these texts for his
reconstruction of ancient Japanese, concentrating on the poems contained within the mytho-
histories.12 While Keichū was not the first influential thinker to focus on these texts, Yoshida
Kanetomo having focused heavily on the Nihon shoki during the medieval period, his work was a
major influence on Norinaga’s scholarship on the Kojiki, given the esteem with which the latter
held him.
Kada no Azumamaro is the next major contributor to nativist thought, considered as the
first “great man” of kokugaku after Hirata Atsutane accorded him the title in 1825.13 A Shinto
priest at the Fushimi Inari shrine in Kyoto, Azumamaro is particularly notable for infusing
Shinto thought into the movement at this time. Azumamaro divorced nativism of Confucian
thought, and articulated nativist studies in terms of an adversarial relationship with foreign
epistemologies, namely Buddhism and Confucianism.14 Similar to Keichū before him,
Azumamaro was also interested in linguistic concerns, such as commentaries on norito prayers,
and the correct glossing of ancient words appearing in texts such as the Nihon shoki.15 While
Azumamaro studied both the Kojiki and Nihon shoki, he gave special significance to the latter,
writing that “the divine age chapters [of the Nihon shoki] are all one needs in order to know the
Way.”16 By giving precedence to the Nihon shoki as the ancient text most deserving of study,
12 Burns, Before the Nation, 50. 13 Peter Nosco, Remembering Paradise: Nativism and Nostalgia in Eighteenth-Century Japan, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1990), 72. 14 Nosco, Remembering Paradise, 72-73. 15 Ibid. 78 16 Ibid. 80-81 19
Azumamaro was also employing a common characteristic of kokugaku, that being the dedicated
exegesis of one primary text as a means for recapturing the Ancient Way.
The Ancient Way as understood by Azumamaro refers to the guiding principles of the ancients while attaining knowledge of this Way was the key to successful harmony with nature, specifically with the Japanese kami, as well as proper moral governance. Azumamaro’s interpretation contrasts with leading Confucian schools at the time, particularly those of Jinsai, and Sorai, who employed a similar concept of the Way rooted in Confucian ethics.17 Shifting
away from the Confucian classics, Azumamaro instead advocated for the ancient Japanese Way as revealed within texts such as the Nihon shoki, as he attempted to discredit what he interpreted as false teachings coming from China and India.
Azumamaro’s study of the Nihon shoki focused not on narrative, but rather on specific words and phrases which he interpreted as offering better insight into this lost Way. Producing a lexicon of terms used in these ancient writings which were based more on etymology rather than narrative connections,18 Azumamaro was integral for the growing trend on linguistic analysis by
drawing attention away from narrative disjunctions which had previously plagued studies of
these texts. Azumamaro instead focused on etymological issues to properly understand the
material, which would also characterize future kokugaku efforts. Azumamaro’s emphasis on
recovering the Ancient Way would also be an important rallying point for Atsutane in his
support of the Sandaikō, claiming that this recovery was predicated on knowledge of the
relationship between humanity and the kami.
17 Ibid. 93. 18 Hardacre, Shinto, 327 20
Kamo no Mabuchi, the mentor of Motoori Norinaga, was another nativist thinker with
close ties to Shinto. In contrast to Azumamaro, Mabuchi was more interested in the study of
ancient Japanese poetry, as he viewed waka as an expression of human nature and a gateway into the past knowable by anyone who committed diligently to its study.19 Mabuchi’s scholarship also
shows a stronger emphasis on governance, having held that poetry was a necessary tool to understand proper rule as practiced by the ancients. Mabuchi saw poetry as informing proper governance in a number of ways, those being: the use of poetry to make people more willing to submit to the ruler, poetry’s ability to allow the ruler to know the feelings of their subjects, and its ability to regulate emotions.20 For Mabuchi, one could not simply study classical poetry, but
must also compose poetry in this style to fully comprehend these lessons.
Mabuchi followed both Azumamaro and Keichū as he held that the ultimate goal of the
study of ancient language was the recovery of an original and uncorrupted nature of the Japanese
people. He was especially critical of the Chinese writing system and its influence in Japan,
seeing Chinese characters has having changed the Japanese language itself.21 Mabuchi claimed
that through the study of the ancient Japanese language, one could begin to recapture the lost
Way which he similarly saw as rooted in harmony with nature and the gods. The philosophy of a natural Way was in opposition to the view of Sorai’s school, which argued for a culturally
constructed way rooted in the teachings of ancient China rather than ancient Japan.22 Debates
concerning the nature and source of the Ancient Way went beyond the Kokka hachiron
controversy, and was a primary concern for nativist scholars during this period.
19 Flueckiger, Imagining Harmony, 148. 20 Ibid. 152-153 21 Peter Flueckiger, “Reflections on the Meaning of Our Country: Kamo no Mabuchi's ‘Kokuikō’,” Monumenta Nipponica 63, no. 2 (2008): 217. 22 Flueckiger, Imagining Harmony, 155. 21
Furthermore, Mabuchi also followed Azumamaro in selecting and elevating one primary
source text as a repository on ancient learning, in this case the Man’yōshū. While Mabuchi did
not outright dismiss the study of other texts, he valued the Man'yōshū as the one most suitable for recovering the Ancient Way of Japan, and as a necessary prerequisite to study more difficult texts such as the Kojiki. In fact, in his attempts to guide Norinaga in his studies Mabuchi urged him to take up study of the Man'yōshū before delving into the Kojiki, and it was Norinaga’s persistence of the latter which ended up souring their relationship.23
Rather than being one unified school of thought, nativist studies in Edo Japan was
composed of many different branches and interpretations of classical literature. While there are
discernable characteristics, such as the selection and elevation of one primary text as the ultimate
repository of knowledge on the Ancient Way, and the reliance of linguistic examination in order to reclaim this lost way, there are simultaneously many discrepancies that pervade the movement. The volatile atmosphere of kokugaku preceding the scholarship of Norinaga is a key feature of the debate surrounding the Sandaikō, as nativist thinkers continuously disputed with one another over the nature of the movement. Norinaga would also contribute to this ever- developing discourse in his Kojiki-den, which would be the next major work concerning exegesis on the Ancient Way of Japan, as well as the text that both Nakatsune and Atsutane would turn to in developing their own theories.
Motoori Norinaga: The Power of the Gods, and the Fate of Men
Norinaga was the head of the Suzunoya academy, the nativist school that Nakatsune was a member of and the primary battleground of the Sandaikō debate. Most of the debate fixated on
23 Hardacre, Shinto, 328 22
whether or not the Sandaikō, and subsequent texts devoted to the Ancient Way, corroborated or
challenged his scholarship. Members of both factions involved in the dispute claimed to be
Norinaga’s authentic intellectual successors, augmenting the debate to also include issues of
leadership and legacy in Edo period nativism. Nakatsune and Atsutane both borrowed several
ideas from Norinaga in their studies, and used these to claim an intellectual inheritance. The first
example of Norinaga’s scholarship that Nakatsune and Atsutane would emulate was his
preference for the Kojiki as a text worthy of exegetical analysis, as it had been largely ignored by
previous nativist scholars up to that point. Norinaga began his magnum opus, the Kojiki-den, a multi-volume commentary on the Kojiki, by attempting to demonstrate the unique nature of the
Kojiki as a repository of knowledge on the Ancient Way.24 Norinaga’s argumentative strategy
already had some precedence in Japanese intellectual circles as described above, though he is the
scholar that would elevate the status of the Kojiki over that of the Nihon shoki. Despite reliance on material from both the Kojiki and Nihon shoki for his exegetical work, his preference for the former as an object of study would carry over into Nakatsune and Atsutane’s work.
Just as Norinaga chose to elevate the Kojiki over the Nihon shoki is spite of the disregard most nativists had for it at that time, Nakatsune would likewise rely on material not considered within the mainstream of the movement. While both he and Atsutane would also rely heavily on the narrative stands of these two texts, Nakatsune instead drew most of his conclusions primarily from diagrams that he drew himself, and which he claimed faithfully represented the narrative laid down in those texts. Nakatsune adapted Norinaga’s discourse on the status of the Kojiki to
24 Burns, Before the Nation, 70. 23
argue that his diagrams were likewise significant in that they detailed the creation of the cosmos and mapped the residence of various kami mentioned within the Divine Age narrative.
One of Norinaga’s most central conclusions that would influence both scholars concerned the generative power of the musubi gods. Two musubi gods, Takamimusubi 高御産巣日神 and
Kamimusubi 神産巣日神, are mentioned in the Divine Age narrative, whose suffix “musubi” designates these deities as gods of creation. In the Kojiki these two gods, along with a third deity
Ame-no-minakanushi, come into existence without procreation and then later “hid[e] their persons;” i.e., they disappeared.25 Thereafter, more gods would come into being and the narrative of the Divine Age would shift focuses to the actions of those deities. Nevertheless, their initial disappearance is not strictly speaking true as both of these gods are mentioned or reappear at later points in the narrative. Takamimusubi notably appears alongside Amaterasu as a lord of
Takama-ga-hara 高天原, the Plain of High Heaven where the heavenly kami are said to reside, yet in spite of this the Kojiki itself makes no mention of the power of the two musubi kami.
Regardless, Norinaga interpretated the opening of the Divine Age narrative as connecting the formation of the cosmos with the birth of these two deities.
Due to their spontaneous birth detailed in the narrative, namely their coming into existence without procreation or any other identified catalyst, Norinaga interpreted the musubi deities as a generative force, which allowed for the subsequent birth of later generations of kami as well as the formation of the earth. Norinaga placed the musubi deities at the genesis of the cosmos, and thereby reframed the Divine Age narrative around them as a creative force.26 The
25 The Kojiki: Records of Ancient Matters, trans. Basil Hall Chamberlain, (Rutland: Tuttle Publishing, 1981), 17. 26 Burns, Before the Nation, 86. 24
generative power of the musubi deities also allowed for establishment of a cosmology based on
the Divine Age narrative that was founded on the Japanese kami, as opposed to other
metaphysical forces. Namely, the musubi deities as the catalyst for creation highlighted a
cosmology independent from pervious frameworks that had dominated the philosophical
landscape of Japan, principally Buddhism, Confucianism, and Yin/Yang theory. Therefore, their
power was what elevated the Ancient Way of Japan as articulated through these texts above the
foreign traditions permeating the country.
The power of the musubi gods was interpreted as a natural and spontaneous force
extending throughout the cosmos, and due to it originating with the Japanese kami placed Japan
in an elevated position compared to other countries. Returning to the Kokka hachiron
controversy mentioned above, Norinaga asserted that while the Confucian Way was a man-made invention, the Japanese Way came into being naturally through the power of these deities, making it inherently superior.27 The naturalness of the Ancient Way was in large part one of the primary arguments that Norinaga made for its superiority in comparison to other traditions coming from China, as they had an artificial quality to them that made them unequipped to properly understand the nature of the kami.
The generative power of the musubi gods was likewise important to both Nakatsune and
Atsutane, who sought to advocate for kami-centered epistemology over those of foreign traditions. While these two scholars would also highlight the power of the musubi twins,
Nakatsune and Atsutane’s understanding of the nature of their power would differ. Nakatsune sought to trace the development of creation as directed by the power of the musubi gods.
27 Peter Nosco, “Nature, Invention, and National Learning: The Kokka hachiron Controversy, 1742-46,” in Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 41, no. 1 (1981): 81. 25
Atsutane on the other hand, hoped to use the divine nature of man as originating with the power
of these two gods to provide for human agency. Atsutane’s view of human agency would
constitute a notable point of departure from Norinaga’s theories.
For Norinaga, agency was reserved for the kami.28 He interpreted humans as being fully
beholden to the will of the kami, and that history was dictated completely by their actions while
humans were merely influenced accordingly. His views on the all-encompassing power of the musubi gods, and the kami in general, linked back to the musubi gods as being the catalyst for the creation of the cosmos, as all subsequent things would fall under their influence. Naturally, the workings of the cosmos were also directed by their power. While Nakatsune would not touch on the issue of agency, Atsutane used the divine nature of man as originating from this power to argue for human agency in the world. Human agency for Atsutane was important, as it directly related to one’s experiences in the afterlife. A human soul was judged for their actions in life, and rewarded or punished accordingly. Norinaga on the other hand was not concerned with judgement in the afterlife as he held a singular view on the fate of the dead, claiming that a human’s soul, regardless of virtue or vice, ended up residing in the polluted realm of Yomi.
In his reading of the Kojiki, Norinaga focused in on one specific account detailing the death of the goddess Izanami, which is the primary account of Yomi given in the text. After
Izanami dies giving birth to the fire kami, the Kojiki describes her husband Izanagi’s desire of wanting to see her, and his journey after her to Yomi-no-kuni 黄泉の国. Norinaga understood
Izanami’s spontaneous appearance in Yomi to mean that Yomi was the land of the dead, and that all departed souls whether god or human end up there after death. He offered no further
28 Burns, Before the Nation, 94. 26
interpretation of this realm outside of a description of it being a dark and bleak existence, and
that he believed it to be identical to Yoru-no-osukuni. Yoru-no-osukuni 夜食国, is another realm mentioned in a subsequent passage after Izanagi’s return from Yomi. After bathing himself to purify his body of the pollution of Yomi, Izanagi gives birth to a number of kami, three of which being Amaterasu-Ōmikami 天照大御神, the sun goddess, Susanoo-no-mikoto 須佐之男命, and
Tsukiyomi-no-mikoto 月読命. Each of which are given a realm to rule over, with the latter of the three Tsukiyomi being given lordship over Yoru-no-osu-kuni, the land of the night. In his exegesis of the text, Norinaga interpreted this realm to be the same as that of Yomi-no-kuni, but he did not elaborate further on this or on Tsukiyomi himself. Norinaga’s silence on the matter of
Yomi led many of his students to conclude that further research on this realm was unnecessary and fruitless.29
The nature of Yomi would provide the main focus of Nakatsune’s Sandaikō, as he sought
to not only properly map the cosmos in relation to the narrative of the Kojiki, but also to locate
and elaborate on this realm. Nakatsune’s only major deviation from his mentor regarded the
location of Yomi, as Nakatsune disagreed that Yomi was under the earth given the previous
assertion that Yoru-no-osukuni, and Yomi were in fact the same realm. Looking at the
philological characteristics of Tsukiyomi’s name, Nakatsune concluded that the character for
moon 月 (tsuki) signified that he must be the moon god, as a counterbalance to Amaterasu as the
sun-goddess, and if he was given dominion of Yoru-no-osukuni which Norinaga had already
claimed was identical with Yomi, this would therefore mean that Yomi must likewise be found
29 Mark McNally, “The Sandaikō Debate: The Issue of Orthodoxy in Late Tokugawa Nativism,” in Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 29, no. 3/4 (2002): 361. 27
on the moon.30 Atsutane later used this distinction to argue against Yomi being the destination of the human soul altogether, as he would also position Yomi on the moon which would supply the main intellectual, if not political, crux of the Sandaikō debate. In other words, Atsutane’s exegetical conclusions began to encroach on claims to Norinaga’s legacy as he challenged a major assertion made by Norinaga, while he simultaneously continued to champion himself as
Norinaga’s true intellectual successor.
What is the Sandaikō?
The Sandaikō itself deals heavily with issues pertaining to the location and function of the three heavenly bodies, those being Heaven 天 (ame), Earth 地 (tsuchi), and Yomi 黄泉
(yomi), the latter considered the “Land of the Dead” where deceased spirits go after death. The text also challenges previous cosmological theories, claiming that past attempts to connect the workings of the universe with the flow of Yin and Yang were based in an inferior body of knowledge rooted in Chinese philosophy. Nakatsune, being heavily influenced by Western astronomical texts that had been making their way into Japan via Jesuit missions since the mid sixteenth century, sought to use Western science to interpret the creation myths of Japan and the cosmos as described by the classical texts of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki. These texts, dating from the late Nara period, traced the history of Japan from the Divine Age of the Gods, to the rule of the legendary Emperors and Empresses. They contain accounts of the births of multiple generations of kami, the movements of deities between various realms such as Heaven and
Yomi, as well as the gradual formation and conquest of the islands of Japan by the ancestors of the Japanese royal family. Despite rejecting foreign bodies of knowledge such as Buddhism and
30 Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 263. 28
Confucianism which were seen as corrupting influences, Nakatsune attempted to use Western astronomy to validate the myths contained within these classical works by showing that these foreign cosmologies also corroborated their narratives. By showing how the Kojiki and Nihon shoki described a relationality between the various realms that mirrored that of Western accounts of celestial bodies, he also sought to provide a cosmology structured around these realms as domains of the kami. In other words, Nakatsune attempted to reveal the ways in which the sun, earth, and moon were associated with realms controlled by the kami as described in Japanese mythology, using Western astronomy as the model.
Nakatsune hoped to support the scholarship of his teacher Norinaga through his conclusions in the Sandaikō. Despite Nakatsune’s claims of upholding Norinaga’s intellectual traditions, the Sandaikō came under scrutiny from his peers at the Suzunoya, who identified several issues with the text that they claimed in fact opposed Norinaga’s conclusions and went against the nativist mission of the academy. The issues highlighted by Nakatsune’s critics in the
Suzunoya would lay the groundwork for the ensuing debate, and pave the way for Atsutane to enter the discussion.
What was the Sandaikō debate?
While Norinaga must have held some respect for Nakatsune’s scholarship, evidenced by the fact that the Sandaikō is included as the seventeenth appendix to the Kojiki-den, other members of the Suzunoya held it in contempt. The Sandaikō debate began with the refutation of this text by two prominent members of Norinaga’s Suzunoya academy, his adopted son Motoori
Ōhira, and senior member Suzuki Akira. Ōhira and Akira were dismissive of Nakatsune’s 29
conclusions surrounding the location of Yomi, believing this to be based on flawed philology.31
Furthermore, they believed that discussion of such topics was pointless as Norinaga himself had
largely avoided the subject. In spite of their dissenting opinions, they did not disagree with all of
Nakatsune’s assertions, as Ōhira did agree with the claim of Takama-ga-hara being the sun.
Their main criticisms were with Nakatsune’s methodology, and the conclusions which
challenged those of Norinaga.
It is quite possible the debate would have ended there as Nakatsune did not go to great
lengths to defend himself. Instead, the mantle was taken up by Hirata Atsutane who came to
Nakatsune’s defense with his own work, the Tama no mihashira. In the Tama no mihashira,
Atsutane supported many of the conclusions made by Nakatsune, such as the locations of Yomi
and Takama-ga-hara, as well as various interpretations of kami. Nevertheless, Atsutane did not
agree with all of Nakastune’s conclusions as he had his own ideas pertaining to Yomi. While
Atsutane agreed with the cosmology established by Nakatsune, he did not believe that Yomi was
the land of the dead as understood by Nakatsune and Norinaga. Atsutane corroborated the claims
of Yomi being a dark and polluted world where Tsukiyomi, the deity charged with ruling Yoru-
no-osukuni, and Izanami resided as related by the Kojiki.32 These similarities aside, he did not
see how it was possible for the souls of deceased humans to travel to Yomi/the moon, and
concluded that instead they must remain here on earth. Atsutane argued that rather than go to
Yomi, human souls instead went to another realm called Kamigoto 幽冥事. Atsutane interpreted
Kamigoto as an invisible realm which occupied the same space as the world of the living here on
31 Mark McNally, Proving the Way: Conflict and Practice in the History of Japanese Nativism, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005), 115. 32 Yijiang Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto: The Vanquished Gods of Izumo, (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2016) 121. 30
earth. Instead of traveling to another distinct realm, human souls disappeared into this invisible
realm which is under the stewardship of Ōkuninushi. Ōkuninushi is another a prominent deity
featured heavily in the Divine Age narrative, and who surrendered control over the Japanese
islands to the descendants of Amaterasu, after which he “disappeared.” Atsutane saw
Ōkuninushi’s disappearance as a model for what happens to the human soul after death, marking
another departure from Nakatsune’s claims which described Ōkuninushi as residing in Yomi
alongside other kami. Furthermore, Atsutane interpreted Kamigoto as the place in which the
souls of the departed were judged.33 By concluding that there was likewise a realm on earth
under the direct supervision of the gods, in this case Ōkuninushi, Atsutane elevated the status of
the earth to match that of both the sun and moon. In other words, with Ōkuninushi overseeing the
souls of the dead residing in Kamigoto here on earth, each heavenly sphere came under the
purview of the Japanese kami. Naturally, these diversions from Norinaga were not well received
by his contemporaries at the Suzunoya.
Atsutane was not attempting to undermine Nakatsune’s cosmology, as Heaven and Yomi retained their identity as the sun and moon respectively. Instead, Atsutane was expanding on aspects of this cosmology in order to establish a relationship between humanity and the kami that allowed for more human agency. Atsutane aimed to promote a system of kami veneration with recognizable outcomes in the ways that Buddhism and Confucianism claimed to provide.
Specifically, he sought to change the perception held by followers of Norinaga that Yomi was the ultimate destination of the human soul regardless of character, as he hoped to establish a benefit to proper practice of kami veneration. Atsutane’s issue with the previous interpretation of
Yomi led to his claims regarding Kamigoto as an afterlife with the potential for positive or
33 Hirata Atsutane, Tama no mihashira, (Tokyo; Iwanami shoen, 1998) 116. 31
negative consequences based on one’s understanding and reverence for the kami. Atsutane’s
understanding of the relationship between humanity and the kami was predicated on the
cosmology established in the Sandaikō that allowed him to expand on humanities role within the system. Thus, the Sandaikō debate began in earnest when Atsutane later published a direct rebuttal against Ōhira’s critique of the Sandaikō.
The debate itself lasted a number of years, and consisted mostly of back-and-forth rebuttals in the form of published works. The development of the debate is further characterized by long stretches between publications, specifically between the publication of the Sandaikō and the first attack against it, as well as another stretch between this initial criticism and the defense of Atsutane. While the Sandaikō text was composed in the early 1790s, the first refutation was not published until the beginning of the 19th century. The opening volley of the controversy
surrounding the Sandaikō was the Sandaikō-benben penned by Motoori Ōhira after Norinaga’s
death in 1801. A decade later, Hirata Atsutane published the Tama no mihashira in 1812 in
defense of Nakatsune’s cosmology. He then quickly followed this up with a refutation against
the Sandaikō-ben, the Sandaikō-benben published in 1814.
The 1810s marks the most active phase of the debate, as this was the period during which
texts pertaining to the Sandaikō were published most frequently. As Nakatsune did not directly
participate in the debate after the initial publication of the Sandaikō, Ōhira and Suzuki Akira
likewise dropped out and left the criticism of the Sandaikō and its adherents to Ōhira’s student,
Uematsu Shigetake.34 Shigetake published the Tensetsu-ben in 1816, a refutation against
Atsutane’s Tama no mihashira, and by extension a rebuttal against his defense of the Sandaikō.
34 McNally, Proving the Way, 124. 32
Atsutane again levied his own attack in the form of the Tensetsu-benben in 1817. After this last defense, Atsutane turned his attention to other intellectual pursuits involving the kami and the afterlife, and the Sandaikō debate gradually died down with both sides naturally claiming victory. Ōhira claimed that as Atsutane had eventually ceased to officially defend his position, victory had gone to Shigetake. Nakatsune on the other hand, applauded Atsutane’s defense of the
Sandaikō and claimed victory on his behalf.35
Concluding Thoughts
While the debate largely focused on issues of methodology regarding philological
analysis and misguided exegetical study, with Ōhira and Akira condemning the scholarship of
Nakatsune and Atsutane, Atsutane also used this opportunity to lay claim to be the official
successor of Norinaga intellectual legacy. Atsutane argued that his work was the legitimate
continuation of Norinaga’s recovery of the Ancient Way begun in the Kojiki-den. Needless to
say, this led to conflict with Ōhira, not only as Norinaga’s adopted son but as his chosen
successor as leader of the Suzunoya academy. These claims for legitimacy infused the debate
with a concern over the direction of kokugaku studies moving forward. Ōhira and his followers
wished to stick to the strict philology laid down by Norinaga and other kokugaku scholars before
him, while also paying special attention to the exegesis of classical Japanese poetry. Atsutane
and his followers, on the other hand, wished to focus on theological questions regarding the
nature and fate of the human soul.
While the debate would have no decisive victor, Atsutane would rise as one of the most
prolific kokugaku scholars of the Edo period. His works would be sold in the thousands, and his
35 Ibid. 130 33
ideas carried on through his own Ibukinoya academy. The Sandaikō debate furnished nativists with a dedicated cosmology based not only on the generative power of the kami, but on humanity’s continued interactions and dependence on them. Furthermore, the cosmology presented in the Sandaikō allowed for the construction of native corpus of knowledge that could
elevate Japan above other foreign powers due to this perceived divine connection.
34
Chapter 2: The Sandaikō and the Influence of Western Sciences
The Sandaikō originated from two simultaneous yet conflicting developments during
Japan’s Edo period. On the one hand, starting in the Sengoku period and carrying through into the Tokugawa period, European and other foreign traders began to visit the Japanese islands brining new knowledge with them. Equipped with texts detailing various scientific phenomena, as well as the new religion of Christianity, European influence began to spread across the country. By the beginning of the Edo period, as the Tokugawa bakufu began to consolidate and
solidify their power base, the new rulers of Japan had deemed that European influence had gone
far enough. Increasingly weary of Christianity as a potential challenge to Tokugawa hegemony,
European texts began to be heavily regulated and those carrying references to Christianity were
banned in order to reduce their spread. Nevertheless, the damage had already been done and
Rangaku, Dutch studies, rose as a new form of intellectual inquiry during this period.
On the other hand, as Japan settled into a new status quo under the Tokugawa Shogunate,
increased interactions with foreigners began to foster questions concerning Japanese identity
within an increasingly globalized world. During much of the ancient and medieval periods, Japan had turned to mainland Asia and other local kingdoms for advancements in science, medicine,
and philosophy, but with the introduction of Dutch Studies began to question their own native
bodies of knowledge. The introduction of Western manuscripts led to an increased focus on
classical Japanese texts and works of art, in an effort to match the cultural exports of these
foreign countries. Thus Kokugaku, nativist studies, would also rise in prominence during this
period, promising to elevate Japan to the cultural capital of the world. 35
It is within the confluence of these two intellectual pursuits that the Sandaikō was born.
Written by Hattori Nakatsune in 1796, the Sandaikō was his attempt to use Western astronomical
frameworks in support of the nativist mission of promoting the Ancient Way (kodō) as a rival to
foreign epistemologies. Nakatsune saw within Western astronomy the potential for validation of
the Japanese mythological accounts of creation, and endeavored to use this to establish a kami centered cosmology by linking the three heavenly bodies of the sun, earth, and moon with that of the realms described in Japanese mythology. In doing so, Nakatsune also sought to show how this process of creation originates with the generative power of the Japanese kami, thus privileging Japan as the land of the gods. Nakatsune would thereby begin a process that would not only see the establishment of a cosmology rooted in the Japanese kami, but would also forever impact the development of kokugaku.
Rangaku and Japanese Astronomy
The Sandaikō was a novel text given the history of astronomical study in Japan up to that point, in that it attempted to meld Western frameworks with Japanese mythology. Nakatsune’s approach was unique in that he adapted the kinds of Western astronomical texts that had entered
Japan, primarily from Jesuit missionaries, to fit within the established exegesis of Japanese mythical accounts of creation by his mentor Motoori Norinaga. It should be noted here that the astronomical texts available in Japan at that time were based less in Western empiricism as they were Christian metaphysics, often times explaining the laws of nature in terms of the movements of angels. The frameworks displayed in these texts became a strong influence on Nakatsune’s cosmology, replacing Christian angels with Japanese kami. 36
Western science, that is scientific texts originating mostly from Western Europe, started
making its way into Japan beginning with the arrival of Europeans in Asia in 149836, and while
European influences began to circulate throughout the continent, making their way through
China, Korea, and Japan, there would not be a European presence on Japan proper until the mid-
16th century. The most notable European presence in Japan at this time were the Dutch, as they
were the only European power to be allowed to continue to conduct trade after the Tokugawa
took control of the country, hence Western learning in Japan being name after them. While other
European powers, such as the Portuguese, had made their way to Japan, the Dutch were able to
negotiate an arrangement with the Tokugawa government to continue their operation in the
country under the conditions that they did not attempt to proselytize their Christian faith, and that
they remain in designated ports, the most significant of which being Nagasaki. Nagasaki thus became the main entry point of Western sciences into the Japanese islands, and the city eventually developed a reputation as a center of Rangaku.
The first texts of Western sciences to draw the attention of Japanese intellectuals were anatomical texts, which were able to attract some scholars away from Chinese sources which had
previously dominated the field.37 Up until the introduction of Western sciences, the Japanese had
always defaulted to Chinese medical texts and procedures, and this preference proved difficult to
dismantle. As Western medical texts continued to circulate, an increased interest in their content
grew among Japanese scholars. Interest in Western science culminated in the first book to be
translated from Dutch into Japanese, the Kaitai shinsho (A New Book of Anatomy), which was
36 Adam Clulow, The Company and the Shogun: The Dutch Encounter with Tokugawa Japan (New York: Columbia University Press, 2013), 8. 37 Donald Keene, Frog in the Well: Portraits of Japan by Watanabe Kazan, 1793–1841 (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006), 26-27. 37
published without issue in 1774.38 The ease with which a Japanese translation of a Dutch
medical text was published without criticism shows that by the late 18th century, there was an
established place for Rangaku within the larger framework of Japanese scholarship. Despite the
volatile relationship between the Dutch merchants and the Tokugawa government, the Japanese
intelligentsia clearly had a respect for Western knowledge and a willingness to engage directly
with these kinds of texts.
Western astronomy would similarly attract scholars interested in the universal laws of
nature, which was one of the primary concerns for Rangaku scholars as they thought that these
laws should form the intellectual basis of everything from medical practices to calendrical
calculations, and even moral behavior.39 Emphasis on empiricism would continue to interest
Japanese scholars researching various natural phenomena, astronomy being one of these pursuits,
although once again the kinds of empiricism on display in these texts should not be taken at face
value. In 1802 the Rekisho shinsho (New Writings on Calendrical Phenomena) was published by
Shizuki Tadao, a Japanese astronomer living in Nagasaki. The Rekisho shinsho similarly
explores the formation of Heaven and Earth, and seen in tandem with the Sandaikō has been
interpreted as showing the widespread influence of Western science at the end of the eighteenth
century.40 It was this emphasis on universal laws that would characterize much of the scientific
pursuits of Rangaku scholars, and lead Nakatsune to utilize this branch of scholarship in the
Sandaikō. Nakatsune hoped to use Western astronomy to substantiate the claims behind the creation of Japan contained within the creation myths of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki, and for this
38 Ibid., 29. 39 Lewis Bremner, “The Magic Lantern as a Lens for Observing the Eye in Tokugawa Japan: Technology, translation, and the Rangaku movement,” Modern Asian Studies 54, no. 3 (2020): 698. 40 Omote Tomoyuki, “Hito no kangaete shirubeki wa tada me no mae oyobu kagiri: kokugaku-teki tenchi seiseizu to kindai,” Osaka Daigaku Nihongakuho 15, (1996): 12. 38
project he drew heavily on Western astronomical texts. Nakatsune’s motivation in using Western
forms of astronomy was a significant deviation from the ways in which astronomical phenomena
had been interpreted previously, namely its goal of explaining mundane experience rather than
uncommon occurrences.
Astronomy in Japan dates back to the ancient period, as the earliest recorded instance of
interest in astronomical understanding dates back to the mid-6th century when a request was sent
to Paekche, which was a Korean kingdom during this time. The request was for scholars of
medicine, divination, and calendar making,41 as calendar making was the main astronomical
concern of the Japanese court for many centuries. The next record of pursuit in astronomy is
recorded in a passage from the Nihon Shoki (The Chronicles of Japan) which states that in 602 “a
Paekche priest named Kwal-leuk arrived and presented by way of tribute books of Calendar-
making, [and] Astronomy…[and] at this time three or four pupils were selected and made to
study under [him]. Ōchin…[who] studied the art of calendar-making, [and] Kōsō…[who] studied
Astronomy…”42 The dedicated study of caldenar-making and astronomy represents the first serious attempt by the Japanese to study astronomical sciences,43 and this influx of knowledge
coming from the mainland would remain a constant feature in Japanese astronomy for several
centuries. Furthermore, this desire for calendrical knowledge would fuel most of the drive for
astronomical study in the country, even after the arrival of the Europeans.
The desire to maintain both proper calendars, and detailed knowledge regarding
astrological phenomena would continue to be the primary driving force behind Japanese research
41 Shigeru Nakayama, A History of Japanese Astronomy, (London: Oxford University Press, 1969), 9. 42 William George Aston (trans.), Nihongi: Chronicles of Japan from the Earliest Times to A.D. 697, (Rutland: Tuttle, 1972), Vol II 126. 43 Nakayama, A History of Japanese Astronomy, 9-10. 39
into astronomy. In 987, the Japanese court would divide the family charged with yin-yang
practice (Onmyōdō) in two, with each respectively specializing in one pursuit. With one branch family dedicated to astrology and the other to calendar-making, the Japanese court established specific offices committed to the study of each. Despite this split, there seems to be little distinction drawn between these two disciplines as official functions, as the privileges of the two offices seem more or less comparable.44 Dedicating two distinct offices to these pursuits seems
to suggest a strong desire to maintain specialists in both fields for court use, and reflects the ways
in which Japan conceptualized the goal of astronomical study during this early period.
Onmyōdō in Japan warrants more elaboration, as being a significant example of early
astronomical study. Akin to an “astronomical observatory,” to borrow the phrase from Yamada
Keiji, the Onmyōryō (the Bureau of Onmyōdō) was the office responsible for astronomical
observation (although this practice was closer to astrology), the creation of calendars, and time-
keeping. The Onmyōryō was also in charge of divination; however, this was done by
cosmograph using the Book of Changes, meaning that it too was grounded on insights derived
from astronomy.45 The offices use of cosmographs based on the Book of Changes points to a
perception of the cosmos rooted in the interworking of yin and yang, and heavily geared towards
divination practices as a means to gain insight on the material world. While these practices were
removed from later Western empirical sciences, they do reveal the ways in which early Japanese
scholars attempted to conceptualize the cosmos, and how divergent some of the new
interpretations of the Europeans were on astronomical understanding.
44 Ibid. 21-22. 45 Miura Kunio “Onmyōdō Divination Techniques and Daoism,” in Daoism in Japan: Chinese Traditions and their Influence on Japanese Religious Culture, trans. Stephen Eskildsen, ed. Jeffrey Richey (New York: Routledge, 2015), 86-87. 40
In short, while astrological study required the constant observation of celestial bodies, its
purpose was the discovery and interpretation of anomalies in nature rather than the discovery of
regularities, which was the goal of Western astronomy introduced to Japan at the end of the
Medieval period.46 In other words, Western astronomy was novel for attempting to explain
mundane experience, which set it apart from previous astronomical inquires up to that point.
The introduction of Western sciences to Japan was not purely for altruistic purposes
however, as Jesuit missionaries in the mid-sixteenth century were primarily responsible for this
initial introduction. Their purpose for introducing astronomical knowledge was very directed, as
it was used to explain daily experience in the hopes of increasing the persuasiveness of their
Christian teachings.47 The initial spread of Western sciences was not aimed at the dissemination
of scientific knowledge for the sake of cultural advancement, but rather was used in service of proselytizing. Unsurprisingly, in their teaching of the material dimension of the universe, the planetary system, and the sphericity of the astronomical bodies within a geocentric system, the missionaries hid the heliocentric theory of Nicholas Copernicus so as to not invalidate the
Catholic doctrine they were spreading.48 Dissemination of astronomical accounts influenced by
Christian teachings would eventually lead to the compilation of the textbook De Sphaera, which
aimed to explain observable phenomena in the hope of revealing a hidden divine characteristic
within the workings of the cosmos. For example, the text begins with an introduction to a
concentric planetary system centering on the earth, although it states that the revolution of
planetary bodies was caused by the push of an angel.49
46 Nakayama, A History of Japanese Astronomy, 63. 47 Yijiang Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto: The Vanquished Gods of Izumo, (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2016) 98-99. 48 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 99. 49 Ibid. 41
Unfortunately for the Jesuits, their missionary work in Japan would be relatively short
lived. Beginning in 1587 with the restrictions on missionary activities, a ban on Christianity was
gradually implemented which caused many of these texts to fall out of favor and access to them to become incredibly limited. Astronomical study would come to a standstill until the arrival of
the Dutch merchants, with their privileged position within Japanese society once again allowing
for the circulation of European texts. The scientific texts brought by the Dutch during the
Tokugawa period would be significantly more empirically minded, causing the Tokugawa
government to develop an interest in texts focusing on astronomy. One of the main motivations
for the Tokugawa bakufu to investigate Western astronomy was in fact to improve calendars in
the hopes of making land more productive for agriculture.50 The Shogun Tokugawa Yoshimune
himself was interested in the sciences, and came to recognize the Dutch language as valuable for
mediating knowledge about sciences such as anatomy and astronomy.51 Yoshimune’s interest
would allow for increased circulation of Dutch scientific texts and would help to propel Western
astronomy to the forefront of Rangaku. Not all of these texts were without issue as many would
need to be revised to conform to the bakufu’s ban on Christianity.
These revisions would give rise to a new astronomical discourse that traced its origin to
the missionary project of the Jesuits, but was erased of any of the Catholic doctrine. Instead, the
Christian metaphysics would be replaced with categories of yin and yang to explain natural
phenomenon. Rather than these categories of yin and yang being based on Daoist philosophy,
which they were in the ancient period, these instead relied on the Neo-Confucian metaphysics of
Song China. The first example of this new discourse was a work based on the astronomical
50 Christopher Joby, “Dutch in Eighteenth Century Japan,” Dutch Crossing 21, no. 1 (2017): 5. 51 Joby, “Dutch in Eighteenth Century Japan,” 8. 42
chapter of the De Sphaera from the height of the Jesuit mission.52 Nevertheless, the most
influential of these was the Rekisho shinsho by Shizuki Tadao mentioned above. Beyond
representing increased interest in Western astronomy, the Rekisho shinsho is somewhat of an
anomaly as the Dutch translation included numerous references to the Christian God. Therefore,
while the Tokugawa government was attempting to keep Christian materials out of the country,
this is an example of one text that got through unaltered.53 The influence of Christian doctrine is
something we shall return to in chapter three. Texts such as the De Sphaera, the Rekisho shinsho,
and the Sandaikō reveal the ways in which interest in Western astronomy increased during the
Tokugawa period, despite the presence of Christian metaphysics which the bakufu sought to
outlaw.
Western astronomical texts that replaced Christian metaphysics with Neo-Confucian yin-
yang theory would eventually catch the eye of certain nativist thinkers, who saw in Western astronomy an ability to explain commonsense experience. The perceived malleability of Western astronomy kindled a desire to assimilate it into Shinto teachings in order to claim trustworthiness for nativist discourse rooted in the study of Japanese classics, and locked in competition with foreign epistemologies.54 The ability to explain commonsense experience would attract
Nakatsune to Western astronomy, in the hopes of providing validation for his theories on the creation myth of Japan. Nakatsune was drawn to the observation and calculation that was enabled by Western astronomical studies, but still viewed these as subordinate to more profound knowledge that operated outside the realm visible to the human eye. By including the added dimension of visible-invisible, based not on Neo-Confucian notions but rather on the generative
52 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 99. 53 Joby, “Dutch in Eighteenth Century Japan,” 22. 54 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 98. 43
power of the musubi deities advocated by his master Norinaga, Nakatsune hoped to combine
Shinto discourse with Western astronomy.55 The generative power of the Japanese kami is at the
core of Nakatsune’s Sandaikō, and was his counter to Neo-Confucian yin-yang theory.
The Sandaikō and the Astronomy of Creation
The Sandaikō was not Nakatsune’s first exploration of cosmology, as he previously wrote the Tenchi shohatsukō 天地初發考 (An Investigation on the Beginnings of Heaven and Earth) in
1789 with assistance from Norinaga.56 The Tenchi shohatsukō text focused mainly on heaven
and earth, and mostly reflected Norinaga’s claims in the Kojiki-den. The Sandaikō expanded on
Nakatsune’s previous work to incorporate the formation of Yomi as well. A central goal of the
Sandaikō was to support Norinaga’s claims laid out in the Kojiki-den, particularly those related
to the generative power demonstrated by the Japanese kami, in an effort to promote the Ancient
Way. In following Norinaga’s teachings on kodō, Nakatsune saw himself as the only student on
the Ancient Way (kodōgaku) left in Norinaga’s school at that time.57 In spite of his commitment
to these teachings, Nakatsune’s scholarship differs from that of Norinaga’s in a few ways. The
most significant of which is Nakatsune’s reliance on hand drawn diagrams that he drew himself
for illustrative purposes.58 Using ten hand drawn diagrams, Nakatsune charts what he interprets
as the chronological formation and gradual separation of the three heavenly bodies, those being
the sun, earth, and moon. Thus, the formation and separation discussed by Nakatsune is not in
fact ordered by the Kojiki passages themselves. The diagrams therefore became both the tool for
55 Ibid. 101. 56 Ozawa Masao, “Sandaikō wo meguru ronsō,” Kokugo to kokubungaku 20, 5 (1943): 466. 57 Uchino Gorō, “Norinaga gakutō no keisho: Norinaga botsugo no Suzumon to Atsutane no tachiba,” Nihon bungaku ronkyū 25, no. 18 (1966): 16. 58 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 101. 44
Nakatsune’s argumentation, and the proof of his claims. While the reliance on personal illustrations over that of direct exegesis of the Kojiki can be viewed as a departure from
Norinaga’s teachings on the Ancient Way, Nakatsune’s goal was always to support his mission of establishing a native epistemology. Despite the shift in focus, Nakatsune does not challenge many of Norinaga’s claims, save for one significant deviation, which he hoped to remedy using the planetary system outlined in Western astronomy.
The main argument of the Sandaikō is that the three heavenly bodies were created by the generative power of the musubi deities, and that the sun and moon both correspond to specific realms mentioned in the Kojiki. Moreover, that these realms also fall under the jurisdiction of the kami. The location of Yomi within this system, that is connecting it to the moon, is just one aspect of Nakatsune’s overall argument, and yet would prove to be the most significant. As the only major diversion from the claims made by Norinaga in the Kojiki-den, this particular point would fuel much of the Sandaikō debate and would later allow Hirata Atsutane to expand on theories regarding the afterlife within the cosmology set up in this text. Nakatsune’s conclusions regarding the location of Yomi would not only furnish nativists with a cosmology centered around the Japanese kami, but would provide Atsutane an opening to elaborate on this cosmological system to include a complex relationship between humanity and the kami.
Nakatsune begins his work following in the footsteps of his master by identifying the creation of heaven and earth with the generative power of the musubi gods. Prior to the existence of heaven and earth, there was a vast space/emptiness called ōsora 虚空 that was filled with this power.59 Nakatsune shows the creative force of the gods by including the musubi deities, along
59 Ibid. 101-104 45
with Ame-no-minakanushi, in the first diagram (Figure 1) occupying the empty space.
Positioning the relevant kami in this way is a pattern Nakatsune will follow in each of the ten diagrams to illustrate the position and relationship each deity has with their respective realm. By following Norinaga in asserting the existence of the musubi gods prior to creation, both scholars were reversing the myth contained in the Kojiki, which identifies the birth of these kami after heaven and earth began.60 Only through this narrative reversal could Nakatsune establish the
generative power of these kami, as the Kojiki itself indicates a spontaneous creation independent
of any will on behalf of the kami.
Figure 1 Figure 1 The First Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 257.
60 Basil Hall Chamberlain (trans.), The Kojiki: Records of Ancient Matters, (Rutland: Tuttle Publishing, 1981), 17. 46
The second and third diagrams of the Sandaikō expand on a passage not from the Kojiki
but from the Nihon shoki that identifies the appearance of “one thing” 一物 (ichibutsu) within
ōsora. The “one thing” that appears either turns into a kami itself, or from which a kami manifests depending on the narrative, as there are a few versions of passage. Nakatsune, opting for the latter interpretation, used this as a bridge between the solipsistic existence of the musubi deities, and the formation of heaven and earth by including this “one thing” in the second diagram (Figure 2).61 Nakatsune then combines this interpretation with a separate passage from
the Kojiki which describes a kami manifesting itself from the earth, allowing for two
simultaneous transformations. In other words, Nakatsune interpreted the kami that manifested
from the “one thing” as rising to become the sun, and the “one thing” itself becoming the earth.62
In combining passages from both the Kojiki and Nihon shoki, Nakatsune was better able to
construct a coherent narrative detailing this initial separation of the three heavenly bodies. The
fourth diagram (Figure 4) expands on the separation of these spheres by including the formation
of Yomi into this process.
Regarding the formation of Yomi, Nakatsune postulates that the upward movement of
heaven from the “one thing” must be counterbalanced by the downward movement of something
else.63 Thus Yomi began to form during this initial separation of the sun from the earth, serving
as the opposite reaction to this division. The next few diagrams would detail the formation of
Yomi, as well as the kami associated with each of these three realms, in an effort to continue to
61 Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 258. 62 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 104. 63 Hattori, “Sandaikō,” 259. 47
draw connections between the Japanese myths, and the planetary system outlined in Western
astronomical texts. Associating the heavenly bodies with the domains of the kami would further service his goal of validating Norinaga’s exegetical study of the Kojiki by revealing the ways in
which the kami had jurisdiction over the cosmos.
Figure 2 Figure 2 The Second Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 258.
Figure 3
Figure 3 The Third Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 258. 48
Figure 4
Figure 4 The Fourth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 259.
In the fifth diagram (Figure 5), Nakatsune continues to show the gradual separation of the
three heavenly bodies, while also highlighting the creation of the Japanese islands by the deities
Izanami and Izanagi. Nakatsune claims that while other lands were formed by the congealing of sea waves, Japan was created by the Japanese kami themselves. 64 The divine creation of Japan through the power and will of the kami distinguished it from other countries that came about via natural phenomenon. Put another way, in this interpretation Japan becomes akin to the cosmos themselves as a land formed intentionally by the kami, elevating it above the profane formation
64 Ibid. 49
of the rest of the world. By elevating Japan’s status in this way as a land birthed by the gods,
Nakatsune not only supported Norinaga’s assertions regarding their generative power, but also
emphasized their continued presence. Nakatsune stressed the kami’s continued dominance over the heavenly bodies by shifting focus onto specific deities themselves in order to show how even
after the initial creation of the cosmos, they continued to hold sway over these spheres by linking
them with realms mentioned in the Kojiki myths.
Figure 5 Figure 5 The Fifth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 259.
Nakatsune spends the sixth and seventh diagrams identifying the sun and moon with the
realms of heaven and Yomi. In the Kojiki and Nihon shoki myths, heaven, referred to as the
Heavenly High Plain 高天原 (Takama-no-hara), is the realm that many of the kami reside in. 50
Takama-no-hara is distinct from the Christian heaven, as it is not depicted as a paradise, nor as
an afterlife. Yomi 黄泉 is a realm that is a bit more difficult to accurately describe. Often
translated as “hades,” Yomi is depicted as a dark, cold, and dreary place, although it is not a
punishment, distinguishing it from the Christian hell. The Kojiki and Nihon shoki myths are unclear as to whether or not all souls end up in Yomi after they die, but this is the realm where the deity Izanami is found after her death. Norinaga, and by extension Nakatsune, understood
Izanami’s descent into Yomi after her demise to imply that all souls travel there after death, and he therefore interpreted Yomi as the land of the dead.
Diagram six (Figure 6) elaborates on Yomi by showing this to be the realm in which
Izanami resides. According to the myths Izanagi, grieved by the loss of his wife, traveled to
Yomi to see her again. Mortified by her horrific appearance, he fled from this realm and sealed
the entrance behind him. Endeavoring to remove the pollution of Yomi from himself, he bathed
and therefore gave birth to three children to whom he would give domain of the three realms.
The seventh diagram (Figure 7) shows the births of these kami by placing them in their
respective realms. Amaterasu 天照大御神 was instructed to reign over the Heavenly High Plan, thus Nakatsune places her there alongside Izanagi and Takamimusubi. Tsukiyomi 月読命, given domain over Yoru-no-osukuni 夜食国, is placed in Yomi alongside Izanami. Susanoo 須佐之男
命, charged with ruling Unabara 海原 the seas, is the only kami not represented in the diagram.
Heaven, represented here with the character 天 meaning both “heaven” and “sky,” is understood by Nakatsune to be what sprouted from the “one thing” to become the sun. 51
Nakatsune interprets Heaven in such a way that simultaneously supports and diverges from
Norinaga’s claims. In the Kojiki-den, Norinaga sought to refute the Chinese perception of
Heaven (ten) as a conceptual thing. The Chinese view of Heaven saw it as relating to proper
ethical behavior rather than a physical place. Norinaga instead interpreted Heaven (ame) as being an actual realm, that was simultaneously both the sun and Amaterasu.65 Nakatsune, on the other
hand, views the light of the sun as actually being the light of Amaterasu, who resides there with
her father Izanagi.66 In other words, in Nakatsune’s framework the sun is the Heavenly High
Plain where Amaterasu resides, but it is the light from Amaterasu that is visible in the sky.
Figure 6 Figure 6 The Sixth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 261.
65 Omote Tomoyuki, “Katareru ‘kamiyo’ to ‘utsuhi’: Sandaikō ni okeru ‘katari’ no kōzō tankan,” Nihon gakuho 12 (1993): 72. 66 Hattori, “Sandaikō,” 263. 52
Figure 7
Figure 7 The Seventh Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 261.
Nakatsune elaborated on this relationship by using the dual concepts of uwabe 外表方 which contains the characters for “outside” and “surface,” and uchibe 内裏方 which contains the character for “within.” Uchibe described Amaterasu’s relationship with the Heavenly realm, meaning that she must reside inside the sun, or within the realm of Takama-no-hara.67
67 Mark McNally, Proving the Way: Conflict and Practice in the History of Japanese Nativism, (Massachusetts: Harvard University Asia Center, 2005), 107-108. 53
Conversely, uwabe described the various lands of the world that existed as outer realms, or on
the surface of the earth. Nakatsune used similar logic to describe Tsukiyomi’s relationship to
Yoru-no-osukuni, another interior realm.
As shown in the diagram, Nakatsune placed Tsukiyomi in Yomi, rather than Yoru-no-
osukuni. Here, Nakatsune is following Norinaga in claiming that Yoru-no-osukuni and Yomi are
in fact identical realms. Nakatsune made this connection by comparing the readings of the names
Tsukiyomi 月読命 and Yomi 黄泉. Nakatsune argued that despite the kanji difference, 読 vs. 黄
泉 both read “yomi,” this signified Tsukiyomi’s dominion over that realm. Furthermore,
Nakatsune identified the presence of the character for moon 月 (tsuki) as evidence that
Tsukiyomi must reside in the moon, in a similar way that the presence of heaven 天 signified
Amaterasu’s domain. Seen in light of the fact that Norinaga had already previously claimed that
Yoru-no-osukuni and Yomi were the same realm, these philological connections were proof for
Nakatsune that Tsukiyomi must reside in the moon, where he ruled over the land of Yomi.68
Identifying the moon as the realm of Yomi represents the most significant departure from
Norinaga’s scholarship. Norinaga himself had interpreted Yomi as existing under the earth, a subterranean realm where the souls of the departed traveled to upon their death. While
Nakatsune was not challenging the function of Yomi as the afterlife, and thus the ultimate destination of the soul, he instead located it in the moon to serve as a counterbalance to
Amaterasu’s rule over the sun. In doing so, both of the major celestial bodies visible to humans
came under the purview of the Japanese kami. Be associating control of these spheres with the
68 Hattori, “Sandaikō,” 263. 54
Japanese divinities, Nakatsune not only established a cosmology rooted in their power as
creators, but ascribed observable phenomena to their continued power as well.
To summarize so far, Nakatsune used the first three diagrams to show how the initial
formation of heaven and earth, and consequently Yomi, were due to the musubi deities as the creative force in the universe. As heaven and earth split from one another, Yomi similarly sank to its present position. After the death of Izanami and the birth of Izanagi’s children, Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi retreated to the sun and moon respectively to rule over the realms of Heaven and
Yomi, which Nakatsune showed using philological connections between these two kami and their realms. By doing this, Nakatsune was able to take the planetary system outlined in Western astronomical texts and connect their origin and continued existence to the power of the Japanese kami. Thus, Nakatsune was able to construct a cosmology that favored Japan as divinely created
over other countries that came about as part of a natural process. The only issue left to address
was the significance of Susanoo in these myths, and his omission from Nakatsune’s diagrams.
Nakatsune attempted to circumvent this dilemma by associating Susanoo with
Tsukiyomi. Nakatsune approached the issue of conflating these two kami by using a variant
passage from the Nihon shoki69 that described Tsukiyomi as being tasked to rule over ao-
unabara-no-shio 滄海原の潮, a variation on unabara 海原 the seas that was Susanoo’s charge.
Therefore, Nakatsune interpreted the similarly between these two realms to indicate that Susanoo
and Tsukiyomi were in fact that same kami, and that Tsukiyomi was merely the name that this
69 Unlike the Kojiki which details one consistent narrative throughout the text, the Nihon shoki contains numerous variations on these myths. Some accounts differ in regards to the actions or motivations of the characters involved, while others provide alternative names. This passage for example provides a different realm that Tsukiyomi is tasked to rule over, instead of Yoru-no-osukuni which he is given in the main narrative of the Nihon shoki and the Kojiki. 55
kami used while he ruled in the moon. With Susanoo out of the picture, the only issue left was
who ruled over the final realm, the earth. The issue of earthly rule was perhaps the easiest
question to address, as Nakatsune had only to turn to conventional mythology which told that the
earth was given over to the progeny of Amaterasu, whose descendants were the Japanese
imperial family.70 Put simply, even the earth was under the supervision of the kami in human
form, as the Japanese imperial family were seen to trace their lineage back to Amaterasu.
These realms are not the only ones mentioned in the Kojiki and Nihon shoki myths. Other
realms, such as Ne-no-kuni 根の国 (the land of roots), are also mentioned, but Nakatsune
chooses to either ignore these or relate them back to one of the previously mentioned realms. Ne- no-kuni for instance is also identified as another name for Yomi. The conflation of these realms was done for the sake of unification of the various realms within the Kojiki and Nihon shoki so as to draw a clearer connection between Haven and Yomi as the sun and moon respectively.
Through this process of association, Nakatsune hoped to show how these myths depicted a cosmology that rested on the power of the Japanese kami, and were visible through the planetary system described in astronomical texts.
Some scholars have claimed that since Nakatsune sought to create an astronomical account of the creation of heaven, earth, and Yomi as told in the Kojiki and Nihon shoki, he was forced to conflate Susanoo and Tsukiyomi, since Susanoo would have no direct cosmological function otherwise.71 The argument made here is that while Nakatsune was able to connect
Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi with the sun and the moon, Susanoo’s only connection would have
been the earth. However, in giving Susanoo dominion over the earth, this would have diminished
70 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 107. 71 McNally, Proving the Way, 109. 56 the significance of the rule of the imperial family, thus leaving Nakatsune no other recourse than to claim Susanoo and Tsukiyomi were in fact the same. Regardless as to whether or not
Nakatsune felt compelled to combine these two figures, the combination allowed him to construct a kami centered cosmology without challenging the status quo which claimed earthly authority lie with the Japanese imperial family.
Concluding Thoughts:
Equipped with new astronomical frameworks courtesy of European visitors, Nakatsune began a process of linking the three heavenly bodies with the earliest creation myths of Japan in order to validate the nativist mission of establishing a kami-centered cosmology. Following his master Norinaga, Nakatsune sought to show how the sun, earth, and moon, as well as the islands of Japan, arose due to the generative power of the musubi gods, thus situating Japan in a position of privilege compared to their foreign neighbors. By relying on a concentric system of the three heavenly bodies, Nakatsune was able to draw connections between these and the mythical realms under the rule of a Japanese kami. In so doing, Nakatsune furthered the development of Yomi as the land of the dead, an idea first started by Norinaga, who failed to devote much time to its elaboration. Nakatsune was able to unify the various underworld realms mentioned in the
Japanese myths into one land of the dead, the ultimate destination of the human soul, and was also able to identify it as the moon. These ideas would be expanded on by Hirata Atsutane, who was specifically motivated to establish a kami-centered afterlife. By providing new interpretations of Yomi and the fate of the human soul, Atsutane developed an eschatological framework to accompany Nakatsune’s cosmology that would allow for more interplay between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead. However, before Atsutane would join the 57 discussion, Nakatsune would be met by criticism from his fellow nativists, as his ideas were seen as straying too far from those of Norinaga and the overall mission of Nativism. 58
Chapter 3: The Debate Begins: Initial Reactions of the Sandaikō
The Sandaikō emerged on the scene at a complicated time for nativist studies during the
Tokugawa period. Shortly after its publication, Norinaga would die and control of the Suzunoya
academy would transfer to his adopted son, Motoori Ōhira. While Norinaga clearly held some
respect for Nakatsune’s work, evident in its inclusion as the seventeenth appendix to his own
Kojiki-den, other members of the Suzunoya would not share this opinion. Nakatsune, now truly
the only member of the Suzunoya interested in the study of the Ancient Way, would come under
scrutiny from his contemporaries who took issue with Nakatsune’s intellectual interests. Seen as
a product of flawed philology, the Sandaikō was marginalized by prominent members of the
Suzunoya who wished to focus the academy’s attention on the study of poetry rather than
speculation regarding the afterlife.
Motoori Ōhira and Suzuki Akira would inadvertently launch the first volley of what
would eventually become the Sandaikō debate, in an attempt to keep the kokugaku of the
Suzunoya grounded in philological inquiry. Criticizing the Sandaikō for both poor philology and
challenging the scholarship of Norinaga, Ōhira and Akira’s objections to the text reveal the
crossroads that kokugaku found itself at the death of Norinaga. Left without strong leadership in
the form of a prolific and respected scholar, nativism was forced to renegotiate its significance
within Japanese intellectual circles. Scholars such as Ōhira and Akira wished to direct nativism
towards linguistic analysis, and used the Sandaikō as an opportunity to excise the last remnants
of speculative scholarship. Through the criticisms of these two senior members of the Suzunoya,
the stakes of the Sandaikō debate become clear, as the Suzunoya transformed into a battleground over the trajectory of nativist studies. 59
Polluting the Gods
In writing the Sandaikō, Nakatsune hoped to use Western astronomical sciences to connect the observable phenomena of the three heavenly bodies, the sun-earth-and moon, to the
Divine Age narrative of the Kojiki in order to validate the claims of his master Norinaga. While
Nakatsune and Norinaga’s conclusions differed somewhat, Nakatsune largely followed his mentor’s scholarship in linking the generative power of the musubi gods, that is the power of the
Japanese kami to create the three heavenly bodies, to the creation of the cosmos. Perhaps the largest divergence from Norinaga was Nakatsune’s willingness to talk about Yomi in concrete terms, which Norinaga was hesitant to do himself. Despite Norinaga’s reluctance, there are a few assertions he was willing to make, such as Yomi being the realm of the afterlife, and Yoru-no- osukuni and Yomi-no-kuni being identical realms.72
Nakatsune was a senior member of the Suzunoya, and originally well-respected although he seems to have rapidly lost favor after the death of Norinaga as the academy underwent changes in leadership and research focus.73 As the last student of Norinaga’s teachings on the
Ancient Way (kodōgaku), Nakatsune found himself already in a marginalized position within the
Suzunoya even before the publication of the Sandaikō. Choosing to continue this research served
to further alienate him from his peers, most of whom had moved on to the study of poetry. When
the Sandaikō was published, Nakatsune’s critics identified three major shortcomings of his work.
First, they viewed the use of Rangaku, Dutch Studies, as counterintuitive to the overall mission
of nativism in establishing a uniquely Japanese epistemology. Second, they saw the claims made
72 Mark McNally, “The Sandaikō Debate: The Issue of Orthodoxy in Late Tokugawa Nativism,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 29, no. 3 (2002): 361 73 Uchino Gorō, “Norinaga gakutō no keishō: Norinaga botsugo no Suzumon to Astutane no tachiba,” Nihon bungaku ronkyū 25, 18 (1966): 16. 60
by Nakatsune regarding the location of Yomi as unacceptable, as these directly challenged
Norinaga’s claims in the Kojiki-den. Finally, they rejected what they interpreted to be speculative
scholarship on Nakatsune’s part, instead hoping to direct the focus of the Suzunoya onto examination of classical Japanese poetry.
Nakatsune’s two major critics at the Suzunoya were Motoori Ōhira and Suzuki Akira.
Ōhira was the adopted son of Norinaga, and assumed the position of head of the school upon the
latter’s passing. Despite being dedicated to maintaining the Suzunoya, and promulgating
Norinaga’s teachings, Ōhira was not a terribly prolific scholar. He staunchly defended his
adopted father’s teachings, but he himself did not author any notable work, leaving behind
mostly notes on waka poetry and poems he composed himself.74 Ōhira also appears to not have
been very familiar with the study of the Ancient Way, which naturally caused the Suzunoya’s
method of study to drift away from its study after Norinaga’s death. The result being an
inclination towards discourse on literature and poetry. Suzuki Akira, on the other hand, was a
senior member within the Suzunoya, being an early student of Norinaga.
For both Ōhira and Akira, Nakatsune’s use of Western science was unacceptable for the
study of ancient Japan. Both were hardline nativists in that they held the use of any foreign
epistemology would be inadequate for properly analyzing classical Japanese texts. The
knowledge of Ancient Japan could only be recaptured by diligent study that focused on the use
of language. Emphasizing Kōshōgaku 考証学 (evidential learning), Ōhira and Akira sought to
ground the study of the Suzunoya on textual criticism, rather than metaphysical interpretation.
Thus, Rangaku was interpreted as going against this mission, being seen as an example of poor
74 Gorō, “Norinaga gakutō no keishō,” 13. 61 kōshōgaku.75 Having failed to properly utilized this kind of methodology, Nakatsune’s conclusions were automatically invalid, and Ōhira and Akira set out to discredit him on these grounds.
Despite this antagonism towards Nakatsune’s work and his use of Rangaku, there already existed a precedence for the utilization of this kind of framework. Norinaga himself had an interest in the subject, having taken up the study sometime during the early 1780s. Furthermore,
Norinaga appears to have had an interest in cosmology as well, which would explain his willingness to indulge Nakatsune’s research interests.76 Norinaga also praised the Sandaikō, and further showed his support for Nakatsune by including this work within his own Kojiki-den.
Consequently, Ōhira and Akira’s criticism regarding Nakatsune’s use of Rangaku suggests a discrepancy in the methodology of the Suzunoya pre and post Norinaga’s death.
During its development in the Edo period, kokugaku went through several iterations as scholars attempted to define what exactly nativism meant within a Japanese context. While kokugaku favored certain sources and approaches, oscillating for example between exegesis of classical poetry and the Nihon shoki, certain identifiable tropes can be seen throughout this transition. Namely, nativism was committed to the recovery of an Ancient way, and attempted to accomplish this through analysis of primary source texts seen as uniquely qualified for this transmission of knowledge. Often the analysis of primary source texts was accomplished through philological analysis, but this was not always the case. Given the established frameworks of nativist studies, Nakatsune appears to follow all of these conventions except one; he does not specifically commit to a primary source text, instead relying on hand drawn diagrams of his own
75 Mark McNally, Proving the Way: Conflict and Practice in the History of Japanese Nativism, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005), 113. 76 Ozawa Masao, “Sandaikō wo meguru ronsō,” Kokugo to kokubungaku 20, 5 (1943): 467. 62 design. Despite the apparent shortcoming of relying on one’s own diagrams, Ōhira and Akira appear to have ignored this detail, focusing instead on his arguments and framing him as having diverged too far from Norinaga.
In framing the text of the Sandaikō as a product of flawed kōshōgaku, Ōhira and Akira were making bold claims about the nature of nativism during this period. Nakatsune’s interest in the Kojiki and Nihon shoki were not the issue, even if they went against the new intellectual trajectory of the Suzunoya. Rather, they took issue with what they perceived to be speculative scholarship. Norinaga himself had chosen to not comment significantly on the issue of Yomi beyond its function as a subterranean afterlife.77 Ōhira and Akira followed other members of
Suzunoya in interpreting this to mean that not further scholarship on the subject was necessary, or possible. Therefore, many of Nakatsune’s claims were merely guesses rooted in his failure to perform proper textual analysis.
Given their claims that the Sandaikō challenged Norinaga’s scholarship, Ōhira and Akira set about criticizing some of Nakatsune’s conclusions, specifically those related to Yomi. They began by refuting Nakatsune’s interpretation of uchibe 内裏方 as describing Yomi as an
“interior” realm. Rather, they argued that this term merely signified realms not of the earth.
Yoru-no-osukuni and Takama-no-hara were instead interpreted as Amatsukuni 天津国, heavenly realms, whereas Yomi was a realm of the earth, which fit Norinaga’s subterranean description.
Despite these issues with Nakatsune’s interpretation of Yomi as an interior realm, Akira did agree that Yoru-no-osukuni was the realm of the moon.78 Akira’s concession here is perhaps the
77 McNally, “The Sandaikō Debate,” 361. 78 McNally, Proving the Way, 114. 63
most telling aspect of their refutation of Nakatsune’s work, as while they vehemently disagreed with Nakatsune’s claim that Yomi was the moon, they were willing to concede that Yoru-no- osukuni was, despite Norinaga’s previous claim that these were the same realm. In their effort to
defend Norinaga’s work, they themselves inadvertently went against it as well. In addition, their
criticisms did not end with Yomi itself, as they also took issue with Nakatsune’s interpretations regarding Tsukiyomi and Susanoo.
In arguing that Yomi was located inside the earth, and this was separate from Yoru-no- osukuni on the moon, Ōhira and Akira also claimed that Nakatsune was wrong in his interpretating of Tsukiyomi being the lord of this realm. They likewise argued against
Nakatsune’s conflation of Tsukiyomi and Susanoo. These criticisms were mainly due to the fact that Akira saw associating these two kami with the polluted realm of the dead as an afront to their status as divine beings. Akira challenged associating these deities with Yomi by asking,
“Tsukiyomi-no-mikoto, like the great goddess of the sun, is a beautiful, great, and august god.
[However, to associate him with] the foul Yomi-no-kuni, is this reverential?”79 The corruption of
Tsukiyomi and Susanoo’s divine character through association with Yomi also mirrored Ōhira’s
issue with interpreting the three realms to be composed of the same material. By arguing that
heaven was merely composed of lighter elements that “floated” into their present position and
Yomi was likewise composed of heavier elements that “sank” to their current position, Ōhira
saw Nakatsune’s claims as threating the sacredness of Takama-no-hara in the same way
associating Tsukiyomi and Susanoo with Yomi did.80 These issues essentially come down to the
fact that Yomi was understood to be an unclean polluted place, as stated by Izanagi upon his
79 Ibid. 80 Ibid. 117. 64
return from that realm in the Kojiki and Nihon shoki myths. If Yomi was composed of such
pollutants, then it would be a challenge to the divine nature of these kami and Takama-no-hara to associate them with Yomi in anyway.
Takama-no-hara itself proved to be a particularly complicated point, as it appears that even Ōhira and Akira had contrasting views regarding this realm. Similar to Yoru-no-osukuni,
Akira interpreted Takama-no-hara as a heavenly realm that is not visible to earthly observers.
Akira denounced Nakatsune’s claims regarding Takama-no-hara being the sun, claiming that there was not a single reference to heaven (ame) as the sun. Ōhira, on the other hand, while agreeing with Akira that Takama-no-hara was a heavenly realm, also conceded that Nakatsune’s
claim that this was the sun was plausible. Ōhira’s main issue with Nakatsune’s interpretation was
Takama-no-hara’s ontological status.81 The problem here was once again associating heaven
with Yomi. While the claims that Takama-no-hara was sun, which was in line with Norinaga’s interpretation laid out in the Kojiki-den, were acceptable, heaven could not in any way have anything to do with the polluted underworld. Akira appears to have been dissatisfied with Ōhira conceding this point, causing him to recruit another senior student of the Suzunoya, Uematsu
Shigetake, to write another critique against Nakatsune that specifically challenged interpretations of Takama-no-hara as the sun.82
The final issue for both Ōhira and Akira was their view that Nakatsune’s work went
against the mission of the Suzunoya. Ōhira wished to furnish nativism with the kind of scholarly
precision he saw in Buddhist and Confucian writings, emphasizing philological precision as the
pinnacle of scholarship. Due to the vague nature of classical texts, owing to conflicting accounts
81 Ibid. 113. 82 Ibid. 114. 65
presented in different passages of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki, Ōhira thought that nativism should
satisfy itself with interpretations that could be supported with evidence. In contrast, the Sandaikō
was seen as speculative scholarship that was too arbitrary, and lacked in science and empirical
proof.
Ōhira’s disapproval notwithstanding, he did not hold a personal grudge against
Nakatsune, nor does there seem to be bad blood between the two colleagues. Ōhira apparently
admired Nakatsune’s enthusiasm, and viewed the inclusion of the Sandaikō in the Kojiki-den as
proof of Norinaga’s approval for Nakatsune’s ingenuity rather than his conclusions.83 Despite
the alleged approval of Norinaga, Ōhira could not abide Nakatsune’s claims concerning Yomi given their implications for Takama-no-hara and the deities Tsukiyomi and Susanoo. Seen as diverging too radically from Norinaga’s exegesis, these were the conclusions that Ōhira and
Akira targeted most. Despite this divide, everyone in question seems to agree on what Yomi was;
the land of the dead. Rather, Ōhira and Akira were specifically arguing about Yomi’s location
and ontological status. In other words, while claiming to avoid speculative scholarship, both
Ōhira and Akira held strong convictions concerning the nature of Yomi that were challenged in
Nakatsune’s work.
The specific criticisms of Ōhira and Akira reveal the stakes of the Sandaikō debate as
centering on issues concerning the trajectory of the Suzunoya. Disapproving of Nakatsune’s
method of analyzing the Kojiki, and his focus on the narrative for information concerning the
afterlife, Ōhira and Akira saw this as a challenge to the direction the Suzunoya was taking after
the death of Norinaga. Specifically, the members of the academy were shifting towards study of
83 Ibid. 115-116. 66 classical poetry, and students of the Ancient Way were diminishing. The Sandaikō thus represented for Ōhira and Akira a way of directing the Suzunoya filmy on development of philological inquiry.
Concluding Thoughts
With the death of Norinaga, the Suzunoya began to undergo a transition away from exegesis of Japanese mythology and towards the study of poetry. As the only student of the
Ancient Way left in the Suzunoya, Nakatsune found himself in an increasingly marginalized position as his reputation within the academy began to wane. The new leaders of the Suzunoya sought to furnish kokugaku with its own scholarly precision in the form of philology as a means of competing with foreign epistemologies. Thus, the Sandaikō debate represents an attempt on the part of the Suzunoya leadership to excise the study of the Ancient Way from the academy, and focus nativist studies exclusively on poetry and literary analysis. Challenging Nakatsune’s authority by claiming that his methodology was flawed, and worse that his conclusions went against those of Norinaga, Ōhira and Akira dismissed the cosmology proposed in the Sandaikō.
Nakatsune, perhaps feeling isolated given his intellectual interests, appears to have taken no steps to directly defend his position. He wrote no indictment against either Ōhira or Akira, instead focusing his time on publishing later works examining how other planets fit into this system. In many ways the rebuttal of Ōhira and Akira should have been the end of the debate as neither party seemed particularly motivated to continue the discussion after the initial refutation, and the Suzunoya appeared to be comfortably transitioning towards poetry analysis. Regardless, the debate would once again erupt when the next volley was launched by an up-and-coming nativist scholar. With the publication of the Tama no mihashira, Hirata Astutane came to
Nakatsune’s defense and reignited interest in the study of humanity’s relation to the kami. 67
Chapter 4: The True Pillar of the Soul and the Fate of the Human Spirit
While the Sandaikō was poorly received by Nakatsune’s colleagues in the Suzunoya, one
scholar saw within its pages a means to advocate for a new direction for nativist studies. Jumping
to Nakatsune’s defense, Hirata Atsutane would elevate the stakes of the Sandaikō debate by
making a strong case for dedicated study of humanity’s relationship with the kami as a means for
understanding the workings of the cosmos, and the fate of the dead. Atsutane idolized Norinaga
and his teachings on the Ancient Way, and tried to further developed these theories through
adherence to Nakatsune’s Sandaikō.84 The Sandaikō and its accompanying controversy thus
created an opening for Atsutane to influence the trajectory of kokugaku studies for the first time.
Atsutane, proclaiming himself Norinaga’s de facto successor, took the text of the Sandaikō as a foundation for his own research on the afterlife and the kamiyo chapters of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki. While his conclusions would differ somewhat from those made by Nakatsune, Atsutane expanded on the cosmology established in the Sandaikō by constructing a complimentary afterlife system, aimed at elaborating on the ways in which humanity fit within this cosmological system. Through the publication of his text, the Tama no mihashira 霊の真柱 (the True Pillar of the Soul), Atsutane would detail his observations on the afterlife and would transform the
Sandaikō debate from a mere disagreement over the trajectory of the Suzunoya into a watershed moment for the development of kokugaku.
Prior to Atsutane’s involvement, the Sandaikō “debate” was more akin to a disagreement over methodology, with prominent members of the Suzunoya finding study of cosmology and
84 Uchino Gorō, “Norinaga gakutō no keishō: Norinaga botsugo no Suzumon to Astutane no tachiba,” Nihon bungaku ronkyū 25, 18 (1966): 14. 68
the afterlife to be without substantial evidence. While the Sandaikō was dismissed by students at the academy, Atsutane saw the text as a step forward for dedicated scholarship on the influence of kami on humanity in this life and the next. Coming to Nakatsune’s defense, Atsutane’s Tama no mihashira and subsequent writings caused the controversy to erupt into a debate proper, with different sides publishing refutations against one another. In the Tama no mihashira, Atsutane went about elaborating on the Sandaikō’s cosmology, to develop ideas regarding the fate of the human soul and the relationship between humanity and the kami. Moreover, throughout these
interactions between Atsutane and members of the Suzunoya, the issue of leadership in the
academy would rise to the forefront as Atsutane challenged Ōhira for the title of Norinaga’s true
successor. The Sandaikō debate thus became a struggle over not just the trajectory of scholarship
at the Suzunoya, but of its very leadership as well.
The True Pillar of the Soul
The Tama no mihashira, or the True Pillar of the Soul was published in 1812, and largely
written as a defense of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō. Through this defense, Atsutane aimed to
redirect nativist scholarship back towards analysis on the Ancient Way. Atsutane agreed with
many of Nakatsune’s claims, such as heaven (ame) being another name for the Sun, and that
within this realm resided Amaterasu. Hirata also corroborated Nakatsune’s claims regarding the
formulation of heaven, earth, and yomi starting with the undifferentiated matter (ōzora) that first
permeated the cosmos before the lighter and heavier elements began to rise and sink
respectively.85 Atsutane did not support every claim made by Nakatsune, but rather expanded on
aspects of Nakatsune’s cosmology established in the Sandaikō to allow for more human agency
85 Mark McNally, Proving the Way: Conflict and Practice in the History of Japanese Nativism, (Massachusetts: Harvard University Asia Center, 2005), 116-117. 69
within a cosmological system run by the kami. Specifically, Atsutane supported the ideas behind
the Sandaikō, and expanded his discourse on the Anicent Way based off of this text.86 The Tama
no mihashira, accepting the type of cosmological speculation displayed within the Sandaikō, allowed Atsutane an opportunity to criticize the successors of Norinaga.87 Just as Ōhira and
Akira had claimed that Nakatsune’s scholarship had deviated too much Norinaga, Atsutane likewise that the themselves had done the same. In other words, by embracing Nakatsune’s methodology, Atsutane aimed to promote eschatological studies as carrying on the scholarship begun by Norinaga.
Atsutane’s text opens with a call for students of nativism (kogaku) to learn the destination of the human soul, as he believed this was the only means with which one could consolidate the
Yamato Spirit, or the true spirit of the Japanese people. Furthermore, lack of this knowledge would lead one to follow blindly the theories and traditions which originated in foreign lands, namely Buddhism, and Confucianism. For Atsutane, knowledge of where the soul settles began with an understanding of the origin of heaven, earth, and Yomi, and the position of Japan as being at the center of this tri-realm configuration.88 Atsutane sought to elaborate on the
cosmological process described by Nakatsune by infusing it with direct references to the
afterlife. While Nakatsune’s text had discussed the formation and location of the afterlife, understood as Yomi, he had followed Norinaga in assuming that this was the destination of the human soul and thus did not elaborate on the nature of the afterlife beyond this. Atsutane wished to expand on this concept to develop a more detailed description of what awaited beyond.
86 Gorō, “Norinaga gakutō no keishō,” 16. 87 H.D.Harootunian, Things Seen and Unseen: Discourse and Ideology in Tokugawa Nativism, (Illinois: University of Chicago Press, 1988), 148. 88 Hirata Atsutane, Tama no mihashira, (Tokyo; Iwanami shoen, 1998) 12. 70
Adopting a similar structure to that of the Sandaikō, Atsutane also utilized a ten-diagram narrative to highlight the gradual formulation and separation of heaven, earth, and Yomi. Unlike
Nakatsune, however, these diagrams would not form the backbone of his work. Instead, Atsutane chose to annotating passages which he composed himself, and that he claimed to faithfully represent the true meaning behind the texts of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki.89 Atsutane aimed to
focus his text firmly within a discourse on the afterlife that was not completely limited to the
exegesis of Norinaga and Nakatsune before him, allowing him to simultaneously differ in his
conclusions, and maintain an intellectual cohesion. Despite not occupying the same significance
within the texts themselves, the use of diagrams to emphasize the observations of each author is
but one of the ways in which the Sandaikō influenced the Tama no mihashira.
A key concern for Atsutane in the True Pillar of the Soul was an emphasis on human
agency, contrasting the outlook of Norinaga who saw humans as operating within a world solely
dictated by the action and will of the kami. Norinaga argued that humans lived under the shadow
of kami, who primarily acted upon the “public realm,” i.e., governmental and authoritarian
institutions. Therefore, Norinaga stressed the importance for people to follow closely the official
customs, regulations, and laws laid down by the government and other authorities. Likewise,
Norinaga often described the actions of the kami in relation to the progression of political events
throughout history, emphasizing further the connection between kami and the Japanese imperial
family.90
89 Yijiang Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto: The Vanquished Gods of Izumo, (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2016) 119. 90 Susan Burns, Before the Nation: Kokugaku and The Imagining of Community in Early Modern Japan, (Durham: Duke University Press, 2003), 95. 71
Conversely, in emphasizing human agency Atsutane claimed humans were endowed with
aspects of the divine, primarily coming from the twin powers of the magatsuhi 禍津日神 and the
naobi 直日神 kami. These two kami were also born from Izanagi after his return from Yomi, and
are understood to be gods who purify sin, in the case of magatsuhi, or cause wickedness, in the
case of naobi. Atsutane viewed humans as having been born with aspects of both of these deities,
which empowered humans to act in both good and evil ways, therefore allowing for free-will.91
By empowering humans in such a way, Atsutane opened the door for the possibility of judgement in the next life based on the actions of the individual. The concept of moral judgment being assigned to human action recalls the writings of Ogyū Sorai on the “little virtues,” as everyone has an obligation to perform according to the disposition bestowed upon them by the heavenly deities.92 The reformulation on the power of human agency transformed the afterlife by
applying the concept of reward and punishment. Previously in Norinaga’s estimation, everyone
was destined for the dark and dreary land of Yomi regardless of their sins or virtues in life. By making humans responsible for their own actions, Atsutane could allow for variations in the hereafter. Responsibility for one’s actions was necessary for Atsutane’s later claims as to the
destination of the human soul, and most importantly of Ōkuninushi as a judge of the dead.
Ōkuninushi, the deity that surrender control of the Japanese islands to the descendants of
Amaterasu, occupied a central position within Atsutane’s framework of the afterlife. The
cosmology of the Sandaikō was crucial for Atsutane in this regard, as it cleared the field for
Ōkuninushi as lord over the realm of the dead. Atsutane agreed with Nakatsune regarding the
91 Hirata, Tama no mihashira, 77-78. 92 Harootunian, Things Seen and Unseen, 31. 72
realm of heaven (ame or specifically Takama-ga-hara), and the position of Amaterasu. By making heaven the sun, and having this be the abode of Amaterasu, that relegated the sun goddess to a very specific role within the pantheon of the kami, namely as the kami presiding over the heavenly deities. The earth was then freed to become an independent sphere which could be ruled over by Ōkuninushi as the lord and judge of departed human souls.93 Atsutane
likewise tied this with Nakatsune’s conclusion that Yomi was the moon.
Once again following the claims of the Sandaikō, Atsutane agreed that the moon was in fact Yomi, the dark and polluted realm ruled over by Susanoo in the guise of Tsukiyomi. The crucial difference for Atsutane was that Ōkuninushi was not one of the kami that also dwelled in the moon, but instead had returned to earth.94 Rather, Atsutane emphasized his rule over the
realm of kamigoto, (幽冥事 also known as yūmei 幽冥) or the “Invisible world.” Kamigoto is a
term used in the Divine Age narratives of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki to describe the realm that
Ōkuninushi disappeared to after ceding the land to Amaterasu. Atsutane argued that the realms
of Yomi and kamigoto were in fact two separate realms, and he positioned Ōkuninushi as lord
over the latter. Hirata drew on the explanation of kamigoto given by Norinaga in his Kojiki-den,
as well as the scholarship of Ichijō Kaneyoshi, to conclude that kamigoto was a court of
judgement for the souls of deceased humans.95 He also claimed that Ōkuninushi resided at the
Kitsuki Shrine, where he carried out his role of passing judgment on the departed.96 Relying on
the cosmology of the Sandaikō in this way, Atsutane was able to position Ōkuninushi’s as the
lord of the earthly realm in the same way that Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi ruled the sun and moon.
93 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 121. 94 Hirata, Tama no mihashira, 111-113. 95 Ibid. 116. 96 Ibid. 116-117. 73
Thus, the structure of the Sandaikō in relating heaven to the sun, and Yomi to the moon was
invaluable to Atsutane in establishing his eschatological formulations. These two heavenly
spheres were crucial to his overall framework, as they did not relate dominion of the earth to any
specific kami, which just so happen to correspond to the location of the afterlife in Atsutane’s configuration.
Atsutane argued that rather than kamigoto being an entirely separate realm such as that of
heaven or Yomi, it actually exists within and around the visible world, that is earth.97 The
omnipresent nature of kamigoto was also one of the reasons for Atsutane to place Ōkuninushi
within the Kitsuki shrine, as shrines evidence the existence of kamigoto. Shrines thus served to
link the invisible world of departed spirits with the world of living humans, and had the added
effect of elevating the status of Ōkuninushi within Atsutane’s pantheon to both judge of the dead,
and ruler of the earthly kami.98
Rather than relate Ōkuninushi in solely authoritarian as ruler and judge, Atsutane also
describes him as consoling the dead, while lovingly attending to lords, parents, wives, and
children who all lived in comfort and prosperity in the invisible realm.99 Ōkuninushi thus took on
a multifaceted character, not just as judge of the dead, but as benevolent caretaker as well. Once
again, the status of Ōkuninushi as the paramount kami on earth was only possible due to the
cosmology established by the Sandaikō in relegating rival deities to the other heavenly spheres.
The major deviation that Atsutane makes from Nakatsune is renegotiating the role of Yomi in the
97 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 122. 98 Ibid. 123. 99 Helen Hardacre, Shinto: A History, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2017), 341. 74
tri-realm construction presented in the Sandaikō to allow the earth, and by extension kamigoto,
to occupy a more significant position.
In positioning Ōkuninushi as judge of the dead, Atsutane opposed the idea of Yomi being the human soul’s ultimate destination. According to Atsutane the moon maintained its status as the polluted realm of Yomi-no-kuni, and by extension the dark realm Yoru-no-osukuni.
However, Atsutane claimed that Yomi could not be the destination of the human soul, as traffic
to and from this realm was no longer possible.100 The Kojiki narrative details how, after escaping
the realm of Yomi, Izanagi sealed off the entrance with a large boulder to prevent his corrupted
sister Izanami from escaping and wreaking havoc upon the world. With the passage to Yomi thus
blocked, Atsutane interpreted this as proof that departed human souls could not possibly travel
there.
Atsutane also drew attention to what he saw as philological issues surrounding the
characters used to transcribe Yomi. While previously Nakatsune had only been interested in the
similarity in the reading between the characters for Yomi and Tsukiyomi, dismissing the written
difference as unimportant, Atsutane took issue with the Chinese characters used to transcribe the
realm. Atsutane claimed that Norinaga and Nakatsune’s understanding of yomi/the moon as the
destination of the soul was predicated on a misunderstanding of the Kojiki due to the influence of
Chinese thought.101 Atsutane argued that before Chinese thinking had influenced the Japanese
reading of the Divine Age, Yomi was understood using the characters 夜見, as was known to be
the invisible realm of kamigoto, i.e., the destination of the soul. Later, Yomi would come to be
100 Hirata, Tama no mihashira, 153-154. 101 McNally, Proving the Way, 119. 75
written with 黄泉 and, having been conflated with the idea of the Yellow Springs coming out of
China, would be confused with the dark realm of Yoru-no-osukuni in the moon.102 Due to this understanding originating with Chinese transcriptions, Atsutane reasoned that this idea of yomi and the moon as the land of the dead had to be false, as it was not a native concept.103 In other words, while Yomi (夜見) had originally been understood as the invisible realm of kamigoto and thus the destination of the human soul, due to the influx of Chinese thinking it had become confused with the polluted and dark realm of Yoru-no-osukuni in the moon. The influence of
Chinese writing is what gave the afterlife the false image that Norinaga had described in his work. Therefore, Nakatsune was correct in identifying Yomi (黄泉) with the moon, but was mistaken about its function as the realm of departed human spirits. Moreover, this misunderstanding obstructed the Japanese mind which required a detailed knowledge of where one’s spirit settled after death, as Atsutane stated at the start of the Tama no mihashira.104
Therefore this misconception had to be corrected.
Atsutane was not the first scholar to employ the rhetoric of the influence of Chinese thought as a defense of his own interpretations. Norinaga had adopted a similar strategy in his examination of the creation myth of Japan, citing that scholars were misunderstanding the beginning of heaven and earth as a spontaneous emergence due to this linguistic misreading of the Chinese.105 Atsutane followed this example by showing how this misreading had gone even further, and obscured critical information detailing the destination of the human soul, as well as
102 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 124. 103 McNally, Proving the Way, 119. 104 Harootunian, Things Seen and Unseen, 150. 105 Burns, Before the Nation, 84. 76
the quality of the afterlife. Rather than travel to a dreary existence in Yomi, the human soul disappeared, much like Ōkuninushi, into the invisible realm.
Figure 8
Figure 8 Chart detailing development of kami-centered afterlife system
In describing one disappearing into the invisible realm, Atsutane drew on the text of the
Kojiki which describes Ōkuninushi as “disappearing” (kakuru) himself.106 Thus, for Atsutane
Ōkuninushi did not travel to an entirely different realm, but merely faded into the invisible realm
of kamigoto. Naturally, Ōkuninushi was not the only entity who “disappeared” into kamigoto as
106 McNally, Proving the Way, 121. 77
Atsutane also described the dead as concealing or hiding themselves (kakuru, kakureru, etc.).107
By describing kamigoto in this way, as existing within the same sphere as the visible realm,
Atsutane was able to maintain the cosmology established in the Sandaikō, while elevating the status of the earth. Specifically, earth transformed from being a realm simply where human lives were played out, to one equally imbued with the power of the kami under the stewardship of
Ōkuninushi.
Furthermore, the invisible world and the visible world, aside from occupying the same space on earth, also interacted closely with one another such that once a soul entered the invisible world it began to protect its living descendants. The connection between these two worlds enabled activities among the living to affect deceased ancestors, and vice versa. The living could therefore influence the quality of life in the invisible world through profound religious devotion and pious ritual conduct, while the deceased could watch over and protect their descendants. Thus, the filial observances for the deceased took on a practical aspect within
Atsutane’s eschatological framework.108
While ancestral ritual was primarily monopolized by Buddhism, with ancestors being referred to as hotoke (Buddha), Atsutane transformed ancestors into kami, thus elevating their
status. Atsutane applied terms such as “manifest deities” (arahitogami) or “distant Kami” (totsu
kami) to both ancestors, and the emperors.109 Norinaga, on the other hand, had reserved these
terms solely for the emperors. The significance of ancestral worship along with the existence of
shrines were crucial points of contact between the visible and invisible worlds. Furthermore, the
interaction between the world of the living and the dead also contained a personal angle for
107 Hardacre, Shinto: A History, 339. 108 McNally, Proving the Way, 121-122. 109 Hardacre, Shinto: A History, 339. 78
Atsutane. Written in the same year as the death of his wife Orise, the True Pillar of the Soul
expresses his belief that she remained with him, and guided him as he composed the sections
detailing the dead protecting and watching over their loved ones.110
In his work, Atsutane stressed the connections that existed not only within the
cosmological framework laid down by the Sandaikō, but also between the visible and invisible worlds. Atsutane saw these connections operating parallel of the political structure of Tokugawa
Japan. Therefore, the village, along with their tutelary shrines, occupied a horizontal reality
which was close to nature and characterized by its relation to the invisible world. The village
thus stood opposite of the vertical reality of the Tokugawa political institutions consisting of the
daimyo, the shogun, and the emperor, which was seen as the visible world. As described by H.D.
Harootunian, Atsutane argued that the living inhabited the visible world, whereas spirits and
deities resided in the invisible world. While each realm was technically separate, they were
nonetheless interrelated.111 In contrast to Nakatsune who had simply laid out the triumvirate
structure of the sun, earth, and moon, Atsutane attempted to explain the connections that existed
within and between these realms. By imbuing the earth with the eschatological significance that
he did, Atsutane was able to draw emphasis away from authoritarian institutions, and elevate the
status of local communities. Nevertheless, the elevation of the earth’s status as it related to the
domain of kami and spirits was only possible given the cosmology detailed in the Sandaikō.
Specifically, it required the relegation of Amaterasu to Takama-no-hara as a lord of kami so that the earth could become a realm in which humans could operate freely.
110 Ibid. 340. 111 Harootunian, Things Seen and Unseen, 31-32. 79
Here we see Atsutane’s unique contributions to Nakatsune’s cosmology by emphasizing humanity’s role within this cosmological system, centered on human agency divinely endowed by the Japanese kami and in accordance with a direct relationship with them as detailed in the
True Pillar of the Soul. The “true pillar” in this sense becomes conviction in the power of
Ōkuninushi, promoted to a central position within this pantheon of kami as custodian of the dead, which serves to establish the Yamato soul of the Japanese as a subject position equipped with the knowledge of the soul’s ultimate destination.112 Atsutane did not rely solely on the
Sandaikō, the Kojiki, or the Nihon shoki, in establishing this framework, though these texts served as important foundations for his work, which he built upon using other sources. One of the most notable is Atsutane’s adoption of Christian eschatological concepts, primarily those involving God’s role in caring for the dead.
Atsutane and Christianity
In some ways, Atsutane owes even more to Western epistemological frameworks than
Nakatsune. Atsutane not only borrowed indirectly from astronomical science coming out of
Dutch Studies, primarily taken from the Sandaikō, but his use of Christian sources is also well documented. Atsutane drew on the writings of many Jesuit missionaries such as Matteo Ricci,
Diego de Pantoja, and Giulio Aleni, and used Christian eschatological models in his own work.
Atsutane began using these models prior to the True Pillar of the Soul, as even in the earlier work Honkyō Gaihen (本教外編) composed in 1806, he was toying with the idea of a creator deity.113
112 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 124-125. 113 For a detailed examination of this text, along with an English translation, please see Richard Devine, “Hirata Atsutane and Christian Sources,” Monumenta Nipponica 36, no. 1 (1981): 37-54. 80
In the Honkyō Gaihen, Atsutane substituted Ame-no-minakanushi for God as a creator deity, while using various other kami as stand-ins for diverse Christian figures. The interpretation of Ame-no-minakanushi presented here paralleled Norinaga’s own understanding of Musubi no Kami as a single creator.114 As Atsutane’s scholarship would develop over the next
decade, he would become less interested in the power of creator deities, and would come to focus
his attention on the eschatological issues surrounding death and the afterlife. He would find in
Ōkuninushi a deity in a unique position, given the mythological accounts surrounding him, to be
reinterpreted to fit perfectly into the role of custodian of the dead.
Rather than ignore the role of creator deities, Atsutane returned to the interpretations of
Norinaga and his emphasis on the musubi gods. For Atsutane, the musubi gods took on the role
of creator, while simultaneously Ōkuninushi adopted the role of judge of dead.115 Taken another way, in Atsutane’s use of the musubi gods as creator deities, Ōkuninushi as the judge of departed human souls, and the divine endowment humans received from the naobi and magatsuhi kami for
good and evil, there can be seen a strong parallel with the Trinity promoted in Catholic doctrine.
The triumvirate explanation of the relationship between these deities and humans, as well
as between these deities and the three realms of heaven, earth, and kamigoto, allowed Atsutane
to reinforce his cosmological exposition with an eschatological dimension. The musubi gods,
having done their work setting creation in motion, retreated into heaven and no longer served as
an agent in the world. The naobi and magatsuhi gods endowed humans with the capacity for
good and evil, which played out in the visible world. Finally, people answered to Ōkuninushi in
the invisible world for their actions in life.
114 Hardacre, Shinto: A History, 338. 115 Zhong, The Origin of Modern Shinto, 117. 81
Transfer of agency from the kami to humans was the central concern that drove
Atsutane’s reading and utilization of Catholic doctrine.116 By allowing humans more autonomy,
Atsutane was able to open the door for a kami-centered afterlife which could rival foreign
traditions such as Buddhism, and even Christianity. Moral value could now be applied to
people’s actions outside of the frameworks of Buddhist karma, or Confucian li. Furthermore, in
understanding the influence of Christianity on his earlier works such as the Honkyō Gaihen and
the True Pillar of the Soul, we can better situate his later work within this intellectual
development. In other words, the major works of Atsutane can be understood as having all been
written under the influence, direct or indirect, of Christianity.117
The Sandaikō Debate: Winners and Losers
What was the reception of Atsutane’s True Pillar of the Soul? Did he successfully defend
his colleague Nakatsune in the eyes of their fellow nativist scholars? What was the final verdict
of the debate? Usurpingly, in coming to Nakatsune’s aid as well as advocating for a complete
shift in nativist scholarship from philological analysis to eschatological inquiry, Atsutane
received even stronger criticism than Nakatsune had. While the Sandaikō had been poorly received for what was seen as failed philology, inappropriate methodology, and inquiry into matters intentionally left alone by Norinaga, the True Pillar of the Soul was seen as a direct
challenge to nativist methodology, and Suzunoya leadership.
Two years after the True Pillar of the Soul was published, Atsutane mounted another
defense of the Sandaikō, this time directly aimed at Ōhira’s critical text the Sandaikō-ben.
Published in 1814 Atsutane’s aptly titled, the Sandaikō-benben, repeated many of the arguments
116 Ibid. 116. 117 Devine, “Hirata Atsutane and Christian Sources,” 42. 82
and observations made in the True Pillar of the Soul. Atsutane once again defended the cosmological structure established by Nakatsune, and modified by Atsutane, while promoting his eschatological pursuit. The publication of these two texts by Atsutane, the True Pillar of the Soul and the Sandaikō-benben, can be seen as the proper start to the debate, as the original text of the
Sandaikō and Ōhira’s rebuttal were a more-or-less benign events within the Suzunoya academy.
The controversy would not end here, however, as two years later another text would once again
come out targeting Atsutane’s scholarship.
Uematsu Shigetake, under the tutelage of Ōhira, would pen the Tensetsu-ben in 1816.
Once again deriding Atsutane for his poor philology, Shigetake took up the reigns from Ōhira
and Akira in their contempt for the Sandaikō and pursued Atsutane with increased vigor due to
his insistence of shifting the study of nativism away from linguistic concerns. Notably,
Shigetake’s primary issue with Atsutane’s research had to do with his claims concerning Yomi,
more than likely as these deviated most radically from Norinaga’s interpretations in the Kojiki-
den. At this point, the Sandaikō debate was headed primarily by Shigetake and Atsutane, as
Nakatsune had never participated directly, and Ōhira and Akira left Shigetake to carry the torch.
Not to be outdone, Atsutane once again came to his own defense with a text appropriately
titled the Tensetsu-benben composed in 1817. At this point in the debate, the competing sides
were firmly entrenched, the intellectual arguments and issues had been clearly stated, and the
overall affair laid bare. In the Tensetsu-benben Atsutane once again defended his and
Nakatsune’s philological claims, as well as his own interpretations. He even criticized Shigetake 83
for having a narrow intellectual scope.118 Aside from these last few rebuttals, the volley of texts defending and criticizing one another had essentially run their course.
The remaining question is who exactly won the debate. The answer is not obvious, as different parties claimed victory at the debate’s unofficial conclusion. On the one hand,
Nakatsune claimed victory for Atsutane, citing that Norinaga had guided him to victory over
Ōhira. On the other hand, others have claimed the fact that Atsutane eventually ceased defending his position as indicative of his loss to Ōhira.119 Looking to contemporary scholarship on
Tokugawa period intellectual history, one could argue that Atsutane won the debate in the long
term due to the prolific nature he has attained in nativist historiography. Regardless, the official
victor of the debate is inconsequential, as the significance of the controversy lies in the long-term
effects on conceptions regarding humanity’s relationship with the kami, and the direction of
Tokugawa period nativist studies.
While the primary purpose of this thesis has been to show the role of the Sandaikō in
providing a cosmological framework for Atsutane to elaborate on the role of humanity and their
relationship to the Japanese deities in this system, the Sandaikō debate itself had a much more
crucial dimension for those involved; the issue of orthodoxy and succession. As the adopted son
of Norinaga, as well as the individual put in charge of the Suzunoya, Ōhira had a much stronger
claim to the title of Norinaga’s successor. Aside from Ōhira, the only other person who could
claim such as position was Norinaga’s biological son Motoori Haruniwa. Haruniwa was stricken
with blindness at an early age, thus preventing him from succeeding Norinaga as head of his
academy. Haruniwa’s affliction is what lead to the adoption and promotion of Ōhira to head of
118 McNally, Proving the Way, 124-129. 119 Ibid. 130. 84
the academy after Norinaga’s passing. Keeping succession in mind, Norinaga divided
responsibility between his heirs, leaving the academy to Ōhira, and the household to
Haruniwa.120
The issue of succession was so paramount, that a dispute even erupted between Ōhira and
Haruniwa concerning the status of their own successors, each claiming superiority in the chain
linking them to Norinaga.121 The Sandaikō debate thus served as another site of conflict in
regards to the issue of succession as by dismissing the current direction of nativist scholarship,
and promoting his own eschatological framework as carrying on the work begun by Norinaga,
Atsutane was claiming a spot for himself as a true successor. Ōhira’s criticism of Atsutane takes
on a personal dimension as well when we consider that Atsutane originally applied for admission
into his academy. After receiving no reply, taking this as disapproval, Atsutane applied for
admission into Haruniwa’s academy instead. Haruniwa accepted and Atsutane, along with his
own students at the Ibukinoya academy, became a part of the Norinaga school.122 Perhaps his
relationship with Atsutane is one reason as to why Haruniwa appears to have abstained from
getting involved with the Sandaikō debate, not wishing to upset his adopted brother or criticize
his student.
Potentially the most unusual events to follow the vitriolic exchange that occurred during
the debate over the Sandaikō happened after Atsutane traveled to Kyoto to meet Ōhira and other
nativist scholars in person. Despite the criticism that Ōhira held for Atsutane’s scholarship, during their face-to-face meeting Ōhira offered Atsutane one of three priests’ staffs (shaku) that
120 Mark McNally, “Who Speaks for Norinaga? Kokugaku Leadership in Nineteenth-Century Japan,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 38, no. 1 (2011): 133. 121 McNally, “Who Speaks for Norinaga?,” 136. 122 Ibid. 140. 85
Norinaga had made. Of course, Ōhira and Haruniwa possessed the other two. In addition to his
gift of one of Norinaga’s staffs, Atsutane was also gifted one of Norinaga’s brushes by
Haruniwa, as well as a norito, an invocation of the gods declaring Atsutane Norinaga’s
successor, from Nakatsune.123 Nakatsune’s endorsement of Atsutane is expected given
Atsutane’s defense of his scholarship. Likewise, Haruniwa’s endorsement is unsurprising given
his status as Atsutane’s “teacher.” Ōhira’s offering of such an important symbol of leadership,
however, seems at odds with their previous heated disagreement.
The inconsistency of Ōhira’s behavior is exacerbated by the fact that he even wrote a
preface for a work by Atsutane, the Tamatasuki, published in 1832, several years after the
Sandaikō controversy.124 Why Ōhira decided to tacitly endorse Atsutane is unclear, especially
given their troubled relationship in the years prior to Atsutane’s Kyoto trip. What is clear is what
Atsutane did with this support. Having been invited to lecture at the imperial court at Kyoto
during this same excursion, conferring even more prestige upon him, Atsutane was able to use
these relics of Norinaga to assert himself as Norinaga’s true successor in the wake of Ōhira’s
death in 1833; Haruniwa had died four years earlier, leaving no one to directly opposed
Atsutane’s claims.125 While Atsutane still had his critics, the most vocal of which was Kido
Chidate, a Kyoto bookstore owner, they were mainly ineffectual and trivial within the field of nativist discourse.
Returning to the Sandaikō debate we can see that the outcome, in regards to who “won” and who “lost” is largely superfluous. Whether or not Atsutane “lost” the debate, failing to defend his position in the eyes of his contemporaries, he was nonetheless able to establish a
123 Hardacre, Shinto: A History, 341. 124 Ibid. 342. 125 McNally, “Who Speaks for Norinaga?,” 149. 86 niche for himself within the intellectual tradition. He later was able to reinforce his position within the school by attaining imperial recognition as well as physical relics of Norinaga, which served to legitimate his claims to the legacy of Norinaga and his scholarship. Equipped with a cosmology provided to him in large part thanks to Nakatsune’s Sandaikō, as well as an eschatological framework he constructed using this cosmology, Atsutane revitalized study of humanity’s relationship with the kami and role in the cosmos. After establishing human agency as divinely endowed by the Japanese kami, Atsutane turned his attention to providing other metaphysical components to his epistemology centered on kami worship.
Concluding Thoughts
A large portion of Atsutane’s scholarship moving forward built off of the framework laid down in the True Pillar of the Soul. By using the cosmology in the Sandaikō as a foundation upon which to situate his kami-centered afterlife, Atsutane could turn his attention to elaboration on the interactions between the visible and invisible worlds, as well as the relationship between humans and kami. For example, in his later work the Senkyō ibun Atsutane would attempt to establish an identity for the Japanese people rooted in the invisible world.126 In this text,
Atsutane detailed his interviews and interactions with Torakichi, a child who claimed to have been spirited away into the mountains of Japan by a tengu127 and taught the esoteric ways of the beings that reside in the invisible world. Atsutane’s research into the tengu further elaborated on the connection between the Japanese people and the sacred world of kami and spirits, and continued to emphasize ongoing interaction between the two.
126 Wilburn Hansen, “The Medium is the Message: Hirata Atsutane’s Ethnography of the World Beyond,” History of Religions 45, no. 4 (2006): 341. 127 Tengu are creature from Japanese folklore, typically depicted as humanoids with avian qualities. The tengu in this case appears to be a mountain ascetic. 87
In the Senkyō ibun, we can see how Atsutane used the True Pillar of the Soul in several
ways, the most notable of which is transforming the mountains of Japan as another nexus
between the visible and invisible world.128 In the True Pillar of the Soul, shrines were shown to
occupy special significance for Atsutane in serving as conduits between the two worlds, yet in the Senkyō ibun the natural landscape of Japan begins to adopt a similar function.
Atsutane’s scholarship would continue to grow and circulate widely among the
Tokugawa intelligentsia. His books went on to sell thousands of copies, and the True Pillar of the Soul specifically had sold ten thousand copies before 1868.129 With this wide readership,
Atsutane’s interpretations on the Divine Age narratives of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki would go
on to influence a number of nativist scholars during the early modern period, and well into the
modern, with much of his success being due to his elaborations on the cosmology of the
Sandaikō. The Sandaikō was thus an invaluable text for Atsutane’s intellectual and political development within nativist circles for allowing him to expand on human agency, develop humanity’s relationship with the gods, and establish himself as a seminal figure within the kokugaku movement.
128 Hansen, “The Medium is the Message,” 342. 129 John Breen and Mark Teeuwen, A New History of Shinto (Massachusetts: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), 106. 88
Epilogue
As Japan began a period of increased modernization and globalization in the late
ninetieth and early twentieth centuries, the relevance of the various realms featured in the Kojiki
and Nihon shoki expanded beyond nativist discourse. They have presently become popular
playgrounds for works of fiction, featuring in various video games, manga, and anime, and
developed strong associations with contemporary Shinto institutions in Japan. For example, the
Association for Shinto Shrines currently features a webpage on the English language version of
their website, targeted at a foreign audience, explaining their beliefs in the afterlife and ancestor
worship. On this webpage they highlight both Takama-no-hara and Yomi. Takama-no-hara is
described as heaven where the most venerable deities live, while Yomi “… is long considered to
exist in the underworld, and is believed to be connected with the custom of burial. (But
nowadays it is regarded that there is no academic basis for this.)”.130 It should be noted that the
Japanese language version of the site also features an entire page devoted to the mythology of
Yomi, although here there is a noticeable absence of connections with a human afterlife.131 The
vague language concerning Yomi, coupled with the discrepancies in how it is described on the
two versions of the site, show the ways in which these realms are still being reevaluated in
contemporary society. As these realms are marketed differently to distinct groups of people, both
foreign and domestic, they reveal how these concepts have become a part of their identity.
In this thesis I have examined the controversy surrounding the Sandaikō, and outlined how the debate led to the creation of a cosmological system rooted in the Japanese kami that
130 “After Death and the Ancestral Worship,” Jinja Honcho Association of Shinto Shrines, accessed February 26, 2021, https://www.jinjahoncho.or.jp/en/spiritual/index2.html 131 「黄泉の国」神社本庁, accessed February 26, 2021, https://www.jinjahoncho.or.jp/shinto/shinwa/story2 89
allowed for the establishment of an independent epistemology to combat foreign traditions. I
have looked at how Hattori Nakatsune borrowed from Western astronomical sciences to construct a cosmology based on the creation myth of Japan as related by the classical texts of the
Kojiki and Nihon shoki. By basing his cosmology off of this narrative, Nakatsune sought to defend the scholarship of his mentor Motoori Norinaga, and center this on the Japanese kami.
The work of Nakatsune provided an opportunity for Hirata Atsutane to retrofit this kami- focused cosmology with room for human agency based on divine endowments from the Japanese deities. Following Norinaga, both of these scholars based their theories on the generative power and influence of the native Japanese gods. Exploring questions concerning the relationship between kami and humans, and those regarding the fate of the human soul, Atsutane provided a new direction for kokugaku studies divorced from the strict philology that had previously governed the movement. Replete with a defined cosmology and afterlife system, the Sandaikō
debate allowed for kokugaku scholars to establish themselves within an independent sphere of
influence that could rival that of foreign traditions such as Buddhism and Confucianism.
Beyond the elevation of the kami as a creative force, the Sandaikō debate reveals how
questions concerning the nature of nativism and methodology influenced the development of
kokugaku studies. Through the rebuttals of the Sandaikō’s detractors, as well as the political
maneuverings of Atsutane, the controversy surrounding the Sandaikō provides insight into how
claims of legitimacy and orthodoxy unfolded in nativist circles. Leadership within Norinaga’s
Suzunoya academy, and by extension nativist studies in general, was a volatile station.
Challenges to principal positions, whether direct or indirect, were regarded as attacks not just on
the leaders themselves but also on the very legacy of kokugaku. Nevertheless, while both sides 90 professed victory over this intellectual contest, Hirata Atsutane would claim a significant position in the history of the movement.
An analysis of Atsutane’s entire bibliography, not to mention the scholarship of his disciples as well as the Ibukinoya academy, is beyond the scope of this thesis. While the lasting influence of the Sandaikō on Atsutane’s later writings is hard to measure, as well as whether or not later members of the Ibukinoya stuck to this cosmological framework, the result of the debate can be seen in his legacy. The Meiji period would see radical changes regarding the nature of
Shinto and conceptualizations of the kami as the state became more involved in the development and dissemination of the institution for political purposes. During this time, Atsutane would rise to join the ranks of Norinaga, Kada no Azumamaro, and Kamo no Mabuchi as one of kokugaku’s “four great men.”132 Atsutane’s continued relevance for discussions on Tokugawa intellectual history is due in large part to his contributions on human agency and the divine endowment of the Japanese people within a cosmological system originating with the generative power of the kami. The text of the Sandaikō, laid the groundwork for Atsutane to expand on these issues, and his participation in the ensuing debate helped propel the development of nativist studies during the latter years of the Edo period.
132 Susan Burns, Before the Nation: Kokugaku and The Imagining of Community in Early Modern Japan, (Durham: Duke University Press, 2003), 195. 91
Appendix A: Sandaikō Diagrams
Figure 9 The First Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 257.
Figure 10 The Second Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 258. 92
Figure 11 The Third Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 258.
Figure 12 The Fourth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 259. 93
Figure 13 The Fifth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 259.
Figure 14 The Sixth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 261. 94
Figure 15 The Seventh Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 261.
Figure 16 The Eighth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 265. 95
Figure 17 The Ninth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 265.
Figure 18 The Tenth Diagram of Hattori Nakatsune’s Sandaikō c. 1790’s. Source: Hattori Nakatsune, “Sandaikō,” in Nihon shisō taikei, 50: Hirata Atsutane, Ban Nobutomo, Ōkuni Takamasa, (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1973), 266. 96
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