Exposing the Fiction of Dominance

In our previous article, we unveiled the invisible fiction that has governed Kyoto since its inception—an entity that persists even today. This hidden essence, which one might call Inner Kyoto or the Shadow Capital, is none other than Mount Hiei, looming over the city’s eastern flank. Mount Hiei is far more than a mere geographical feature; it was a formidable architecture of power that defined an era, an all-encompassing structure that wielded religious, economic, and military authority as a singular, massive urban function.

The establishment of this Mount Hiei System, centered at Enryaku-ji—the head temple of the Tendai school of Japanese Esoteric Buddhism founded by Saicho—became the primordial source for the Heian-kyo System that spread across the valley below. The true nature of the Heian period (794–1185) lies in the union of these two architectures, functioning as the front and back of a single coin.

Crucially, in resonance with the movement to unify these two invisible structures, a significant shift occurred in the landscape of faith, rising in opposition to the Heian-kyo–Mount Hiei axis. For several days, I have contemplated this vital spiritual movement: the emergence of the Jodo sect under Honen (1133–1212) and Shinran (1173–1263) as a counterpoint to the Tendai of Mount Hiei, and subsequently, the Zen of Dogen (1200–1253) as a further response to both. Yet, we must recognize that an absolute factor intervenes in this lineage: the rise of the samurai.

In other words, the ascent of Zen in Japan cannot be disentangled from the ascent of the warrior class. Rather, the two emerged as the most potent forces to challenge the Heian-kyo–Mount Hiei system—a vast mechanism of power that had reigned for centuries—by unifying within a new structural paradigm. However, this intersection of the Zen–Samurai architecture did not occur at the dawn of their existence; it was born of historical necessity. To explore the crossroads of faith—a realm that never surfaces through a mere superficial gaze at history—we must focus our lens on a father and son of the Taira clan who dared to challenge the crumbling monolith of Mount Hiei. As this history is profoundly intricate, I shall proceed with a deep inquiry, reviewing the essential points based on the insights shared over the past few days.

First, in 1156, a rift within the imperial family regarding the succession to the throne served as a catalyst. This internal fracture, entwined with the career ambitions of the nobility and various vested interests, led to a violent civil war that divided the Court, which then held political sovereignty. In response to a request from the 77th Emperor, Go-Shirakawa (r. 1155–1158), the Taira clan crushed the forces of the opposing Retired Emperor Sutoku. Having emerged victorious, Emperor Go-Shirakawa entrusted the post-war settlements to his close confidant and vassal, Shinzei (1106–1160), establishing him as a new autocrat of the public sphere. And there was one other who stepped into the spotlight under Go-Shirakawa’s autocratic regime: Taira no Kiyomori (1118–1181), the head of the Taira clan.

At this time, Taira no Kiyomori’s father, Taira no Tadamori (1096–1153), had already passed away. Under this new leader, who aspired to elevate the status of the warrior class, the Taira’s power surged to a dimension that the denizens of Heian-kyo could no longer ignore.