Himiko’s Rise to Power in Ancient Japan
A Female Shaman United a Fractured Land
Among all the women in Japanese history, none is more enigmatic—or more widely studied—than Himiko (卑弥呼). While her name may be unfamiliar to many Western readers, her story continues to spark curiosity and inspire countless debates even today. In this article, we explore the historical backdrop of this mysterious queen’s rise to power.
According to Chinese historical records, particularly the Records of Wei (魏志倭人伝) from the Records of the Three Kingdoms (三国志), Japan during the late Yayoi period—around the late 2nd to mid-3rd century—was composed of a country known as Wa (倭国). These records suggest close ties between Japan and the Chinese state of Wei, and the Records of Wei are believed to be based on reports from Wei envoys who visited Japan at the time.
The Records of Wei state that during this period, Wa (倭国) was mired in political turmoil. Numerous male chieftains ruled separate territories, constantly at war with one another. This prolonged internal conflict, known as the Great Civil War of Wa (倭国大乱), led to widespread chaos. In an effort to restore peace, the leading warlords decided to forgo their ambitions and instead jointly appoint a single figurehead to unite the land—a woman. That woman was the queen Himiko.
Thus, the unstable rule of rival male leaders, which had lasted for about 70 to 80 years, came to a halt, and a new era of centralized rule under a female monarch began. The underlying cause of this shift was the fragmentation of power that had begun around the late 2nd century BCE, as numerous small regional factions emerged and vied for dominance. Archaeological evidence from the late Yayoi period supports this, showing the construction of large moated settlements and fortified hilltop villages, suggesting heightened military tensions. These signs of social upheaval were not seen in the preceding Jomon period. Wa, undergoing a transformation in power dynamics, desperately needed a unifying figure to end the prolonged civil war—and they found that figure in a woman.
However, many questions remain. Where exactly was Wa located? Who exactly was Himiko? In Japan, scholars continue to debate whether Wa and Yamatai (邪馬台国) were based in northern Kyushu (the “Kyushu Theory”) or the Nara basin (the “Kinki Theory”), with the author personally leaning toward the latter. Still, no definitive answer has been found.
Historical records also indicate that by the late 2nd century, Wa had sent envoys to the Chinese Han dynasty. Around 107 CE, a ruler of Wa dispatched a delegation to Han, and even earlier in 57 CE, a ruler was granted a golden seal by the Chinese emperor—evidence that powerful leaders within Wa had already established international relations. Yet by the end of the Han dynasty, these power structures seem to have weakened, plunging the region once again into a fragmented state. The Records of Wei describe Himiko’s selection as queen as a collective decision to end this chaos, highlighting the sense of urgency behind her rise to power.
Her ascension marked a turning point in the political unification of Wa and is seen as the beginning of Japan’s first centralized authority. Recent studies have focused on aligning archaeological findings with historical texts to uncover the precise nature of the unrest that preceded her reign. These studies suggest that a broad coalition known as Yamatai (邪馬台国) was established around the end of the 2nd century or beginning of the 3rd century. Around this time, signs of a new royal authority also begin to emerge in what is now the Nara region. In this sense, the resolution of the Wa civil war and Himiko’s appointment laid the groundwork for the formation of Japan’s early state.
So, how exactly did Himiko become queen?
Her rise was deeply intertwined with the social and cultural context of the time. The Records of Wei describe her as a shaman-like figure who “captivated people through her practice of sorcery” (鬼道), a celibate elderly woman who rarely appeared in public and delegated political affairs to her younger brother. This description from Chinese envoys paints her as a mystical and possibly intimidating presence—someone who left a deep impression on foreign visitors.
Himiko’s selection by the feuding male leaders suggests that the people of Wa hoped her spiritual authority could transcend political divisions. This echoes ancient Japanese mythology, such as that recorded in the Kojiki, in which female deities assume governing roles. We can surmise that, in a time plagued by famine, war, and disease, a spiritual figure with perceived supernatural powers offered a realistic solution for peace. The highly spiritual worldview of early Japan becomes apparent in such a scenario.
Significantly, the status of women in Wa society was not necessarily subordinate. Recent research suggests that female chieftains may have been active across various regions during the Yayoi period. Archaeological evidence has identified increasing numbers of female burials in elite tombs, with some estimates suggesting that 30–50% of high-status graves belonged to women. In some cases, women were even buried with weapons, implying political or military involvement. From this perspective, Himiko’s ascension was not unprecedented. Rather, society may have already been receptive to female rule. Although Yamatai may have had limited territorial reach, it is possible that women held leadership roles across multiple regions of Japan.
Personally, having studied Japanese mythological texts like the Kojiki, I believe there existed an early dual leadership system—where a male ruler governed in tandem with a female shaman-queen. In this system, the queen performed rituals to receive divine messages, which were then enacted as political decisions by the male ruler. In mythology, this structure often appears as a brother-sister pairing, suggesting a distributed form of governance across different clans. In fact, a similar system survived in the Ryukyu Kingdom (琉球国) of Okinawa, which lasted from 1429 to 1879. This suggests a cultural continuity that may trace back to the Yayoi period.
This dual structure is mirrored in Himiko’s partnership with her brother, as described in the Records of Wei. She likely served as the spiritual leader, while her brother handled administrative affairs. This division of labor resembles other early East Asian leadership models, where religious and political powers were separated yet complementary.
Beyond her spiritual charisma, Himiko’s neutrality also likely played a role in her selection. In a landscape scarred by power struggles, it would have been difficult to install a male ruler without inflaming rivalries. A woman uninvolved in direct military conflict could serve as a mediator. Moreover, as an elderly, unmarried woman, Himiko had no offspring who could vie for power—making her a safer choice for consensus among the factions.
That said, these records were compiled decades later by the historian Chen Shou (陳寿), based on reports from Wei officials. Cultural and linguistic differences leave room for uncertainty. Some even question whether Himiko was truly unmarried. After her death, a male successor attempted to claim the throne, triggering another round of conflict. This ended only when a 13-year-old girl, possibly Himiko’s relative or spiritual heir, was enthroned. Much about this successor remains unknown, but her appointment underscores how deeply society had come to rely on female shamanic leadership.
In conclusion, Himiko’s enigmatic rise to power reflects a society deeply influenced by spiritual belief systems and the need for political balance. As both a mystical figure and a practical solution to civil war, she embodied the convergence of ancient Japan’s religious, social, and political currents. Her story continues to intrigue and inspire, and future insights may yet reveal even more about her life and times.