Guardian of Izumo Spiritual Heritage
A Hero Who Confronted the Ise Jingū System
Shinto in Japan tends to be equated with animism, and this perception seems to be increasingly common among many people year after year. Moreover, most Japanese have virtually no understanding of Shinto, and a persistent view that “Shinto is not a religion” still exists. However, historically speaking, even if Shinto wasn’t defined explicitly as a “religion,” it undeniably had religious elements. Particularly since Buddhism’s introduction to Japan in 552, Shinto underwent significant systematization and maturation over a millennium (especially evident in the Heian Period). Examining Shinto from the standpoint of its religious characteristics primarily brings into focus developments from the 6th century onward, but given that diverse forms of faith connected to Shinto existed long before this, no one can fully unravel its mysterious entirety.
Importantly, the explicit emergence of Shinto’s religious characteristics was not a distant historical occurrence, but rather stemmed directly from the religious policies established by Japan’s new government following the Meiji Restoration in 1868. By comprehending the numerous policies and ambitions enacted during this turbulent era—when the new government positioned Shinto as the foundation of national unity under the ideal of “Unity of Worship and Government” (祭政一致)—one can grasp how Shinto’s religious character became entrenched. Understanding this process requires countless insights, but in this article, I’ll focus specifically on one individual who stood against the destructive actions carried out by the bureaucrats of the newly established “Ise Jingū System”, which I’ve touched upon briefly in previous posts on Shitsurae. Without this person, the Shinto faith as it exists today in Japan might never have survived.
If you’ve visited Japan, you probably know that among the countless shrines, the highest-ranking is the Inner Shrine of Ise Jingū (伊勢神宮内宮 / 皇大神宮) in Mie Prefecture, where Amaterasu (天照大御神), the ancestral deity of Japan’s imperial family, is enshrined. Yet, before Amaterasu’s dominance, powerful deities existed throughout ancient Japan. Among these, the most prominent was Okuninushi (大国主神), worshipped at Izumo Taisha (出雲大社) in Shimane Prefecture. Izumo Taisha is famed for legends suggesting its main hall once stood an impressive 96 meters tall—recent research has gradually substantiated these myths, attracting significant attention. The origins of Izumo Taisha’s worship trace back to the deity Ame-no-Hohi (天之菩卑能命), who played a central role in rituals venerating Okuninushi. According to mythology, when Okuninushi was enshrined in his temple, it was Ame-no-Hohi who oversaw the rituals.
From Ame-no-Hohi’s lineage emerged the clan known as the Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko (出雲国造), hereditary governors who ruled over Izumo Province (出雲国). This clan carried on the hereditary priesthood across generations. However, during the 14th century, the clan split into two branches, the Senge family (千家家) and the Kitajima family (北島家), both sharing the responsibility for rituals equally to avoid conflicts. Traditionally, the highest ritual authority has remained with the Senge family; today, the 84th Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko, Senge Takamasa (千家尊祐), holds this position. If you’ve read my previous articles, you might wonder: “Didn’t the Meiji government abolish hereditary succession for shrines?” Indeed, nearly all hereditary priesthoods at ancient shrines were abolished by government decree, yet a few shrines managed to maintain hereditary rights. Chief among these exceptions were such as Izumo Taisha in Shimane and Kono Shrine (籠神社) in Tango. The background to these exceptions involves complex historical dynamics, including the respective power and rankings of various deities—topics I acknowledge can be quite challenging, so I’ll gradually explore these in future articles on Shitsurae.