Tag: Folk Shinto

Japan by Train 23: Iki Island

For those interested in Shinto, Iki is a very special island. Palm trees and a Shinto torii greet visitors, and a welcome poster announces that this is ‘the island of kami’. A brochure promoting the island even claims that here lies the origin of Shinto. I was fortunate in my visit in that a Canadian friend Chad Kohalyk was living on the island and kindly offered to drive me around. He proved an excellent guide.

*******************

The next day Chad had devised a custom-made tour for me. First and foremost was the island’s prime attraction, Monkey Rock. No prizes for guessing why. In fact the likeness was uncanny. Shaped by wind and salt water, the creature looks pensively towards the horizon, as if contemplating the future of monkeykind. It would make the perfect prop for Planet of the Apes. There is something too of King Kong in the formidable size, for it stands on a vertical piece of cliff that rises a massive twenty-five meters from the sea.

Nature’s artwork here reminded me of the large shamanic rock overlooking Seoul, which resembles a monk casting a protective eye over the city. On the slopes around it worshippers pray directly to the rock face. Sacred rock in Japan has long intrigued me, for it forms the essence of ancient Shinto. Most of the major shrines in the country originated with worship of a numinous rock (iwakura), yet curiously there is almost nothing written about it. The standard book on Shinto, by Ono Sokyo, does not contain a single mention of rocks. It is puzzling, but over the years I have pieced together my own understanding.

For ancient humans rock stood for permanence, in contrast to vegetation which was perishable. Humans were impermanent of course, but on death their spirit was thought to live on forever. Rocks were therefore associated with the dead, and came to be seen as a vessel into which spirits could enter. In other words they were physical containers for what was intangible and invisible, which is why they were revered as ‘spirit-bodies’ (goshintai).

Inari style torii tunnel. Iki island is full of atmospheric shrines.

Sacred rocks are particularly prominent along the ancient migration route leading from Korea to northern Kyushu, then along the fringes of the Inland Sea to the Yamato heartland in Nara. Since Korea had a formative influence on early religion in Japan, and since Korean shamanism derives from Siberia, it struck me that in prehistoric times Shinto-style shamanism too would have its origins there.

One day, while internet surfing, a picture popped up on my screen of an outcrop on the edge of Lake Baikal. My heart leapt up, and the minute I saw it, I knew with absolute certainty that I had to go there. It was located on the island of Olkhon in the middle of the lake, and contained a sacred cave venerated by the Buryat Mongols as the origin of shamanism. That summer I flew to Siberia, and sat on a slope overlooking the cave, which it was forbidden to enter. Prayer flags fluttered in the wind, and as I pondered the scene thoughts coursed through my mind. Could it be that within the dark mystery of the vaginal opening lay the origin of Japanese rock worship?

Shaman’s Rock in Lake Baikal

In shamanic thinking distinctive features are an indication of spiritual power. The leading shaman at Lake Baikal has six fingers, and in Japan rocks with striking shapes are attributed to divine creation. So I asked Chad if there was any evidence of rituals being conducted at the Monkey Rock, hoping for support for my shamanic theory. Disappointingly he replied, ’Not as far as I know,’ and though he had been to meetings of Iki’s official guides, there had been no mention of any religious connection.

There are over 1000 shrines in Iki, testimony to the very real presence of kami in the island life. You get the feeling that here is the true soul of Shinto, rooted in folk belief rather than the top-down imperial Shinto set up by the Meiji government. Iki shrines speak to a tradition of animism, and as we drove around the island the bond with nature was everywhere apparent.

Kojima island, with the torii immersed in water, though at low tide one can walk across

Some of the shrines are very special. Take Kojima Shrine, for instance, which stands on a small island and is only accessible at low tide. It has one of those evocative torii at the water’s edge, whose pillars are submerged by the incoming tide. It represents immersion in the life-force, as if to remind us of cosmic powers beyond our control. Or take Sai Jinja’s large wooden phallus which stands erect before the Worship Hall. Though demonised by Christianity, the male organ is here a powerful force for good, promoting fertility, conjugal harmony, easy childbirth, and protection from sexual disease.

The three monkeys, with a difference. Fertility symbols were a common feature of worship until the Meiji reforms decided they were an embarrassment and largely did away with them.

Myth and Deity (Kamata Toji)

Book review of Myth and Deity in Japan (2009) by Kamata Toji (tr Gaynor Sekimori)

For followers of Green Shinto, this is very nearly the perfect book!

First of all, it is written by a leading scholar and practitioner (emeritus professor of Kyoto University). It positions Shinto as an East Asian religion, not an indigenous religion. It is firmly in support of syncretism, viewing the marriage of Shinto with Buddhism as integral to Japan’s spirituality. It acknowledges the vital input of shamanism and Confucianism. And it takes a very critical attitude to the Meiji reforms, which artificially split Shinto from Buddhism, led to the banning of Shugendo, destroyed local diversity, and replaced kami worship with emperor worship. The damage done by the Meiji ideologues continues to the present day, but as an alternative the book promotes the spirituality of everyday Japanese, as outlined by twentieth century folklorists referred to as Neo-Nativists (about whom more below).

So what makes the book less than perfect? The answer lies in the hard to digest middle chapters, where the reader is overloaded with unnecessary historical detail. Here one has to bear in mind that the book was written for educated Japanese, who would be expected to be familiar with the names and movements.

Chapter One introduces the notion of what a combinatory religion involves, and Chapter Two describes what happened when Buddhism arrived and mixed with the native kami. So far, so good. However, in Chapter Three and Chapter Four, the narrative goes into a lengthy explanation of developments during the Heian and Medieval Periods. This is not easy reading, nor is it helped by some clunky language more suited to a scholarly work (indeed, the book sometimes reads as if it has been pieced together from academic papers).

Chapter Five, which investigates Nativism in late Edo times, injects greater relevance by investigating the influence of leading figures on the religious reforms of Meiji times. This includes a useful overview of the work of the influential oddball, Hirata Atsutane (1776-1843). Whereas his more famous predecessor Motoori Norinaga (1730-1801) focussed on this world, Hirata investigated the spirit world including tengu and yokai. In other words Motoori looked to mono no aware, Hirata to mononoke (the pathos of worldy transience in the case of the former, as opposed to the vengeful spirits of the latter). However, it was Hirata’s ‘Japan first’ message that was the decisive element in shaping Restoration Shinto, which later segued into State Shinto and the ideology of WW2.

Kamata is particularly good at depicting the confused meanderings of the Meiji government as it sought a new religious order to bolster the emerging nation. It resulted not only in the banning of Shugendo as superstitious, but also the outlawing of Folk Shinto. It showed just how far removed from ordinary people’s religion the politicians had become. The assertion that Shinto be used as a tool of state meant that it was not classified as a religion, and this resulted in such absurdities as the Shinto shrine of Izumo Taisha being regarded as a vehicle for state rites while the Shinto sect of Izumo-kyo which honoured the same kami was seen as a religion.

Chapter Six not only brings us right up to date but puts forward a surprising agenda for the future, quite different from that of current orthodoxy. It is based on what is called Neo-Nativism, featuring two key figures, the founder of folklore studies, Yanagita Kunio (1875-1962) and the more literary minded Orikuchi Shinobu (1887-1953). Between them they promoted folk studies based on common people’s beliefs. This bottom-up approach differed radically from the top-down approach of the Meiji government.

Orikuchi Shinobu, folklorist, linguist, novelist and poet.

At the end of the book, it is Orikuchi Shinobu in particular who takes centre stage, with no fewer than ten pages devoted to his life and work. Orikuchi had an interest in words and incantations, particularly with regard to pacifying the spirits of the dead and fostering rebirth. To this end he investigated performing arts and festivals, areas in which Kamata Toji himself actively participates (he plays the stone flute and writes Shinto songs). Moreover there is a suggestion that as a man who excelled in many fields, Orikuchi represents the cultural essence of Japan. Not only is he celebrated for his folklore work, but he is also in the words of Kamata, “a surprisingly good novelist, perhaps among the finest Japan has produced” (p. 143). That is some endorsement, and the championing of such a figure is an intriguing way to end a book that seeks to defend pre-Meiji Nativism and promote as a force for peace the spirituality of ordinary Japanese.

Some key quotations –

About syncreticism: “The idea of kami-buddha combination (shinbutsu shugo) is at the core of Japanese spirituality.” (p.vii).

*About the Meiji Restoration: “It was a religious reformation from above that was highly inconsistent with people’s personal ideas about the kami and the buddhas.” (p. 124) “People”s fundamental understanding of kami did not essentially change as a result, but great changes came about institutionally.” (p.125)

* Shrine merger law of 1906: ‘a great mistake’ (p. 132).”The shrine consolidation policy led to the decline of local culture, disrupted community life, and ultimately destabilized the very foundations of Japanese society.” (p.132)

* Meiji Shinto: “In stipulating that the emperor was divine and came from an unbroken imperial line, the Meiji Constitution created a distinctive Japanese state system that grafted a Prussian model of absolute monarchy onto the ancient ritsuryo-type system, in the process setting up a chimerical absolute monarchy.” (p.131) (According to Greek mythology, the chimera was a grotesque creature made up of many parts.”) (p. 130)

* Buddhism and Shinto: [Buddhism] is basically humanistic, in comparison to Shinto, which born from the plainest of origins, means living with awe of nature, sensitive to the beauty, harmony, and sacred energy within it.” (p.180)

* The future: “A new kami-buddha combination – a new coworking between Shinto and Buddhism – may be necessary.” (p.181) “Searching for a common human base and bringing it to life represent, I believe, the future of spirituality and the spiritual movement.” (p.181)

About the author (The following is taken from Zen 2.0)

Born in Anan City, Tokushima Prefecture.  Was interested in Mythology since age of 10.  Started poetry at age 17, and became interested in Shinto, Buddhism, Confucianism, and other local folk beliefs.    

He has climbed Hiei Mountain 560 times as a practitioner of Shugendo. Credit withdrawal from his doctorate at Graduate school of Kokugakuin Faculty of Letters, majoring in Shinto, and credit withdrawal from doctorate from Graduate school of Okayama University Medicine Department Graduate School of Social Environmental and Life Science. Currently, specially appointed professor of Grief-care institute and Sophia University, Honorary professor at Kyoto University, and visiting professor at the Open University of Japan. Representative Honorary Director of NPO Tokyo Freedom University. Representative Director of the Institute of Emei Yojo Culture Training(emei-japan.net), Chairman of Kyoto Traditional Culture Forest (Dento Bunka no Mori) Promotion Council, Philosopher in religion, folklore, Japanese thought history, comparative civilization. Doctor (literature, Tsukuba University).  Plays the traditional stone flue, side flute, and conch horn. Shinto Song writer, Poet.

New Folk Shinto

DSCN7104

Imagine my surprise when on my usual commute along the river Kamogawa in Kyoto, I happened to see the above scene.  How very odd I thought.  But then I remembered Green Shinto friend Roger Walch telling me something about his friends in an art collective in Osaka who organise an annual fertility festival in the Kamogawa.  I guessed it must be them.

There were a couple of women accompanying the group along the river bank carrying banners, so I stopped to ask them about the event. They told me it was the Tentsuku Hounen Matsuri (Tentsuku being heavenly possession and Hounen meaning fertility and the name of the famous phallic festival held at Nagoya every year).  Was it an artistic performance or a religious festival, I asked?  It’s folk religion, they answered.  A new addition to the tradition of Minzoku Shinto.

DSCN7108

This was the first time I’ve come across this in Japan.  Green Shinto has carried reports of similar developments in the West, so for Japan this seemed something of a breakthrough.  Japan is famously conservative, and in nearly every social movement over the past century it’s lagged something like thirty to fifty years behind the West.  Think of smoking, gay rights, drugs, feminism, anti-discrimination…. you name it, and Japan will be the last to implement it.

In this respect I can’t help thinking that the Tentsuku Hounen Matsuri is Japan’s equivalent to the first neo-pagan events in the West, before words like Wicca had become part of the national consciousness.  I recall taking part in an early Beltane festival at Glastonbury in the early 1970s that was very much on a par with the small group striding along the river in Kyoto.

I can’t speak for the intentions of the group, but the event was ‘pregnant’ with symbolism.  Red is the colour of health and well-being, the phallus the organ of seed-giving.  The impact of the red phallus is traditionally not only one of fertility, but of a way of scaring away evil spirits (in Bhutan they have them painted on their houses).  This goes along with the white clothes to denote purity, and the troupe was led, I noticed, by a fellow with a big phallic nose indicative of Sarutahito, guide and leader.

The phallus was pointing at the triangular power spot where the rivers meet

The phallus was aiming for this triangular power spot

The route of the group was from Sanjo upriver to Imadegawa and the ‘power spot’ in the junction of the two rivers, Kamogawa and Takanogawa.  Here the group enacted a very simple penetration by pushing the red phallus through a white sheet with a hole in it.  (I’ve seen this done much more graphically in traditional style in a rice field.)  I’m not sure if their intention was to bring fertility to the crops of the area, or to their own creative endeavours in the coming year.

The direction the group took towards the north is traditionally the correct way in which to approach sources of energy and authority.  Rivers are well-known energy lines, and the meeting of rivers is a convergence of energy often denoted by ancient markers such as a shrine (in this case Shimogamo Jinja).

The classic shrine in the midst of a wooded copse has been compared to the female womb which is reached through a passageway via a torii opening.  Within the womb takes place a magical ritual signifying impregnation, by which the kami descends and life is re-created. This is all the more evident in the case of Shimogamo, since the meeting point of the two rivers forms a V-shape.

It seems then that this New Age Folk Shinto has been very well conceived!  Green Shinto truly hopes this is an early indicator of what is to come in the following years as a young generation turns to the past for inspiration, in the same way that neo-paganism has done in Britain and elsewhere.

DSCN7105 DSCN7110

The Osaka collective pose for a photo by Swiss video maker and Green Shinto friend, Roger Walch

© 2024 Green Shinto

Theme by Anders NorénUp ↑