A Perspective from the Ancient Dazaifu: Two Centers in an Elliptical Japan

2021/05/14

Toward the end of his life, the politician and poet Ōtomo no Tabito (665-731) had completed his tenure as governor of Dazaifu and returned to the capital. He often fondly remembered the days when he used to enjoy sake with his friends, such as Yamanoue no Okura, in the land of Chikushi, admiring the plum blossoms and composing poetry. It is said that the following poem expresses his feelings at that time: "Standing here, I wonder, where is Chikushi? Perhaps it lies in the direction of the mountains, where white clouds drift and billow."

According to Susumu Nakanishi, a well-known scholar of the Manyoshu, ancient Japan can also be seen as an elliptical country with two centers: Nara and Dazaifu. Dazaifu, known as the "distant capital," was an administrative institution that governed Kyushu and played a representative role in diplomacy and defense, incorporating the latest information from the continent and the Korean Peninsula."

Despite being the administrative head of Dazaifu, Tabito cherished his connections with the cultured people of Chikushi. Incidentally, a collection of poems written during the "Plum Blossom Feast" he hosted were included in the Manyoshu, and it is rumored that the characters for the era name "Reiwa" were chosen from the preface to the collection.

In the Heian period, about 170 years after Tabito, there was a politician who was exiled from Nara to Dazaifu and never returned to the capital. This man was Sugawara no Michizane (845-903). The following poem, "When the east wind blows, send forth the fragrance of plum blossoms; though there be no lord, do not forget the spring," is attributed to him.

Michizane was born into a scholarly family and demonstrated his literary talent from a young age. He served in the imperial court under the guidance of an instructor known as the "Doctor of Literature." After serving as an administrator in Shikoku, he was appointed as a close aide to Emperor Uda and rose to the highest level of government office. However, he was falsely accused of rebellion by a rival who doubted his influence over the imperial family and was banished to Dazaifu, similar to being exiled to a remote island.

It is said that the previous poem was composed using plum blossoms to express the regret before heading to Dazaifu. After being sent to Dazaifu, Michizane passed away after about two years. It is said that he left a will stating that he did not wish for his remains to be returned to Nara.

I recently visited Dazaifu Tenmangu Shrine, where the fresh greenery was ablaze. Throughout the shrine grounds, there were enormous camphor trees estimated to be over a thousand years old, watching over everything with a vigilant eye. As I crossed the Taiko Bridge and walked along the path leading to the main hall, I couldn't help but think about Michizane's regrets.

After some time had passed since his death, Michizane was fully reinstated and enshrined as a deity at Dazaifu Tenmangu Shrine. He is now revered as the "God of Learning, Sincerity, and Protection from Misfortune," and shrines dedicated to this deity can be found throughout Japan.

There was a scholar-politician named Sugawara no Michizane, and people were heartbroken by his unfortunate end. To alleviate his regrets, a movement to worship him as the god of learning began to spread. Eventually, the story of Tenjin-sama (Michizane deified) spread through temple schools and festivals, and it became a legend that took over the country, being featured in various forms of entertainment such as Joruri puppet theater, Kabuki, and others.The story of Michizane seemed to resonate with the Japanese mentality. If we interpret it in a modern way with some trepidation, it could be said that Tenjin-sama was the first content to emerge from Kyushu and become a national phenomenon. Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, it was reported that approximately 10 million visitors annually came to visit Tenmangu Shrine.

Nearby Tenmangu Shrine, there is the Kyushu National Museum, which opened in 2005 as the fourth national museum in Japan. I also visited this museum. Its unique concept is to view the formation of Japanese culture from an Asian historical perspective. The permanent exhibition is rich in materials that depict the history of exchanges with overseas countries that took place in Kyushu from ancient to modern times.

Of course, a significant amount of space is devoted to the history of Dazaifu in the exhibits. The artifacts from the ruins of the government office, Ono Castle, and Mizuki Castle tell the story of the urgent need to build a defense system in Dazaifu, which was the frontline command center, after the Battle of Baekgang (663), in which Baekje and Japan fought together against the Tang and Silla forces. It was a few years after this battle that Otomo no Tabito was born. It should also be noted that near the entrance of the museum, there is a monument with the lyrics of the song by Tabito mentioned at the beginning of this article.

The museum also has exhibits on the two Mongol invasions that targeted northern Kyushu in 1274 and 1281. Diplomatic negotiations with the Mongols and Goryeo were conducted in Dazaifu before the wars, and the actual battles took place mainly in Tsushima, Iki, and Hakata. This may have been the largest ground warfare between Japan and foreign powers before World War II. Although it happened more than 700 years ago, the exhibits at the museum, located in the war-torn northern Kyushu, allow visitors to feel the tension of that time more intimately.

Entering the Kamakura period, the role of Dazaifu gradually came to an end. It may be said that Dazaifu, which was responsible for Japan's diplomacy and defense in East Asian international relations from the Nara to Heian periods, was one of the centers of Japan's ellipse at that time.

Now, let's shift the conversation to the present day.

In the beginning of the 21st century, there was a movement in Kyushu, centered around the prefectural governors, to create a "Kyushu Prefecture." This was during a time when discussions about regional autonomy were lively. Nowadays, there are reports of a movement among governor's councils and economic organizations to consider Kyushu as a single unit and develop growth strategies for the entire region. It seems that there are discussions to make Kyushu the growth center of Japan and a gateway to Asia.

While it may be debatable whether creating a "Kyushu prefecture" is a good idea, it may be useful to consider Kyushu as a single unit and think about its future vision. By learning from the history of Dazaifu, reflecting on the poetry of the Manyo era, and valuing scholarship and sincerity in the local culture, we may find hints for creating a new vision for Kyushu.

In ancient times, "Chikushi" referred to all of Kyushu. Could it be said that Ootomo Tabito was a predecessor to today's businesspeople and government officials who relocate from Tokyo to Kyushu? Like Tabito, I hope that many people will continue to hold affection for Kyushu even after their assignments end.

When considering the future vision of Kyushu, it might be worth considering not only for those who live there, but also for those who have affection for Kyushu from outside the region.

Visiting Dazaifu and learning about its history evokes various emotions.

Along the approach to Dazaifu Station from Tenmangu Shrine, there are many shops that sell "Ume-gae Mochi" (plum blossom-shaped rice cake) and tea. I enjoyed a delicious thin-skinned rice cake filled with sweet red bean paste and matcha at one of the tea houses. Although the mochi had an imprint of a plum blossom, it did not have the flavor of plum. I made sure to bring back some souvenirs before returning home.