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The appeal of the fox: the cult of Inari and premodern Japan

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THE APPEAL OF THE FOX:
THE CULT OF INARI AND PREMODERN JAPAN
by
Matthew Paul Keller

A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE USC GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(RELIGION)

May 2022

Copyright 2022 Matthew Paul Keller
ii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing this dissertation over the past several years has been filled with both joys and
struggles. That last part may have been especially so in a world suffering from a pandemic.
Fortunately, this writing was not carried out alone. Many people provided assistance and support
over the years. Thanks to their efforts, the resulting project is much superior than it would have
been if I had been left entirely to my own devices. There are more people to acknowledge here
than can reasonably be included, but I will name a few below.
First and foremost, I wish to thank my dissertation committee members, who have been
so fundamental in shaping the project. I can never thank enough Lori Meeks, who has provided
oversight throughout this whole process. Her insights and suggestions have helped take my
research further. Her critiques have pushed me to continually strive to be a better scholar and
writer. And her constant support has made sure I was able to bring this to a successful close.
David Bialock has likewise provided invaluable insights that have allowed my analysis to go
deeper. James McHugh has always been ready with new perspectives to help me view materials
from a different angle. Jason Webb has reminded me of the value of always choosing my
wording with care. Their efforts have led to great improvements throughout the following
chapters. Any and all remaining insufficiencies in the dissertation are entirely my own.
I also wish to acknowledge individuals and groups in Japan that facilitated the initial
research for this project and gave me a path forward. Specifically, many thanks go to Matsumoto
Ikuyo, who hosted me while I researched in Japan. Her own interest in enthronement rituals
spurred a fruitful area of inquiry for this project. Our frequent reading of medieval Japanese texts
and ritual manuals was greatly appreciated and great fun. Additionally, much appreciation goes
to the Kanagawa Prefectural Kanazawa Archive (神奈川県立金沢⽂庫 Kanagawa Kenritsu
iii

Kanazawa Bunko) and the Kyoto City Historical Museum (京都市歴史資料館 Kyōtoshi
Rekishi Shiryōkan). The people at these archives led me to many rich texts for consideration.
Many people from the University of Southern California have managed to get their
fingerprints on my writing. I wish particularly to thank Rongdao Lai, Jessica Zu, Jessica Marglin,
Cavan Concannon, David Albertson, Sonya Lee, and Joan Piggott for suggestions either in the
initial phases of my time here while planning the project or for suggestions on the writing itself
that fundamentally effected the final project. A number of my fellow graduate students too have
given great contributions. Jesse Drian, Jillian Barndt, Emily Warren, Tanya Kostochka, Hadi
Qazwini, Omar Qureshi, Yusuf Lenfest, Brian Frastaci, Monica Mitri, Anthony Swieringa, and
Elinor Lindeman have all provided some help over the years. Especial appreciation goes to Lisa
Kochinski who has continued to navigate the vicissitudes of studying Japanese Religions and of
TA work with me. Deep gratitude also goes to Linda Wootton, Johnna Tyrrell, and Shannon
Maiko Takushi for tirelessly working to make sure things actually get done. Of course, a number
of individuals not from USC have been important too. I wish particularly to acknowledge an
unusually grouped list of Koichi Shinohara, Edward Kamens, William Fleming, Bernard Faure,
Emanuela Sala, and Nathan Butters for pushing me to be a better scholar and academic in
various and sundry ways. My research also received substantial financial assistance from The
Japan Foundation, ACE-Nikaido, and the USC Shinso Ito Center.
Finally, this dissertation never would have been written or started without the support of
my parents, Lora and Kevin. While often confused as to why I would start down this path, they
have always encouraged me and readily given their love. Therefore, this dissertation is dedicated
to them.

iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS...…………………………………………………………….……….ii
LIST OF TABLES……………………………………………………………………………….vii
LIST OF FIGURES.....………………………………………………………………………….viii
ABSTRACT……………………………………………………………………………………....x
INTRODUCTION.………………………………………………………………………………..1
Inari and “Shintō Studies”……………………………………………………………5
Japanese Studies of Inari……………………………………………………………13
Connections and Imagination……………………………………………………….18
The World of Inari………………………………………………………………….24
Structure of the Dissertation………………………………………………………..30
CHAPTER ONE: A History of the Inari Shrine…...…………………………………………….34
Tatarigami………………………………………………………………………….37
Rain Rituals and Integration into the State Cult…………………………………...43
State Protection and Propitiating the Myōjin………………………………………53
Towards the Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes…………………………...58
Imperial Processions and Attention from the Court………………………………69
Turbulent Times and the Reduction of Rites……………………………………...75
Conclusions……………………………………………………………………….77
CHAPTER TWO: The Lives of Inari…………………………………………………………...80
Mythmaking and Legitimacy……………………………………………………..83
The Yamashiro fūdoki…………………………………………………………….92
The Tenryaku Jingikan kanmon……….………………………….......…………..96
v

Medieval Inari Origin Stories…………………………………………………..100
Bodhisattva from Afar………………………...……………………………….104
The Name of Inari...….………………………...………………………………110
The Legacy of Myōbu.…………………………………………………………114
Foxes and Inari.………………………………………………………………..121
Conclusions.…………………………………………………………………...126
CHAPTER THREE: The Sovereignty of Beasts – Inari, Dakiniten, and Heteromorphic
Sovereignty…………………………..………………………………………..131
A Wide Spreading Mythos……………………………………………………133
On the Origins of Dakiniten…………...…………………….………………..135
Dakiniten in Japan…………………………………………………………….142
Heteromorphic Sovereignty…………………………………………………..146
Heteromorphic Sovereignty, Dakiniten, and Monkan………………………..155
Discourses of Power and Enthronement Rituals.……………………………..163
Conclusions.…………………………………………………………………..173
CHAPTER FOUR: A Ritual Cosmology of Inari, Dakiniten, and Foxes……………………...175
To be a Buddhist King………………………………………………………..176
Dakiniten as the Foundation of the Enthronement Rituals…………………...178
Of Celestial Foxes, Grave Deities, and Wisdom……………………………..186
Dakiniten Rituals in the East: Documents from the Kanazawa Archive……..194
Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu (shi).……………………………………………………198
Tonjō shijji daiji nado….…………………………………………………….204
Shinbosatsu kuden and Shinbosatsu kuden jō kuketsu………………………208
vi

Conclusions………………………………………………………………….211
CHAPTER FIVE: Inari and Matsuri…..……………………….……………………………….215
Hatsuuma Taisai 初午⼤祭..………………………………………………..219
Inari: Kami of Love?......................................................................................224
The Inarisai 稲荷祭…………………………………………………………229
Preparing the otabisho and Preparing the City……………………………..231
The Shinkōsai and Kankōsai Processions…………………………………..235
Views of the Festival……………………………………………………….237
Visual Depictions of the Inari Festival……………………………………..241
The City of Kyoto and Funding the Inari Festival…………………………249
CONCLUSION.………………………………………………………………………………...253
BIBLIOGRAPHY………………………………………………………………………………259
APPENDIX: TABLES…….…………………………………………………………………...278

vii

LIST OF TABLES
Table 1: Visits by Emperors and Retired Emperors to the Inari Shrine..………………………278
Table 2: Modern Fushimi Inari Ritual Calendar……………………………………………….281

viii

LIST OF FIGURES
Figure 1: Tower Gate of Fushimi Inari Great Shrine……………………………………………...1
Figure 2: Tunnel of torii…………………………………………………………………………..2
Figure 3: Inari sub-shrine at Zenrinjin…………………………………………………………….3
Figure 4: Stone altars of branch shrines………………………………………………………….28
Figure 5: Fox statue at tower gate………………………………………………………………..29
Figure 6: “Inari Mandarazu”……………………………………………………………………110
Figure 7: A fox statue.………………………………………………………………………….131
Figure 8: Fox Spirit Hill.……………………………………………………………………….133
Figure 9: “Fushimi Inari Mandara”………………………………...…………………………..143
Figure 10: Visitors to the Hatsuuma Festival…………………………………………………..219
Figure 11: shirushi no sugi……………………………………………………………………..220
Figure 12: Visitors to the Hatsuuma Festival…………………………………………………..221
Figure 13: “Miyako rinsen meishō zue”.……………………………………….........................229
Figure 14: Close up of map from 11
th
century copy of the Engi shiki………….…...………….231
Figure 15: Inari Festival Shinkō and Kankō procession routes…………...……………………233
Figure 16: “Shūi miyako meisho zue”……………….…………………………………………236
Figure 17: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12……………………………………………………...241
Figure 18: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12...……………………………………………………242
Figure 19: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12……………………………………………………...242
Figure 20: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12……………………………………………………...243
Figure 21: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 11……………………………………………………...243
Figure 22: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 11……………………………………………………...245
ix

Figure 23: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12...……………………………………………………246
Figure 24: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12……………………………………………………...246
Figure 25: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12……………………………………………………...247
Figure 26: “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” scroll 12……………………………………………………...248
x

ABSTRACT
This project examines the cult of the Japanese god named Inari and the Fushimi Inari
Shrine of Kyoto during the premodern period. With over forty thousand shrines, this indigenous
god, known as a kami, is today among the most popular gods of modern Japan and thought of as
a deity of rice, wealth, and good fortune. However, during the premodern period, Inari’s identity
had not yet solidified, and the deity took many forms as a primary character in varied discourses
from both the state and Buddhist institutions, as well as groups outside of those official
boundaries. Inari was at times a deity that dealt out curses and at other times a bestower of
imperial sovereignty. Through an examination of the ties of this kami’s unstable identity to
cultural imaginaries and Buddhist ideologies, I explore how Inari rose from being a local deity to
a state protector to a god of fortune for everyone.
Using the cult of Inari as a case study, my dissertation examines the ways in which the
identities of indigenous Japanese gods benefitted and expanded in the face of heightened
competition and cooperation between Buddhist and kami traditions during the medieval period.
Even a brief reading of Inari-related sources shows that discourses associated with the kami
utilized elements from Buddhist ideologies, Yin-Yang theories, and Chinese legends as well as
ideas specific to the veneration of Japanese kami. Therefore, this dissertation is also in many
ways about the relations between what are conveniently termed “religions” and the way that
people negotiate the meeting of disparate religious discourses through imagination to reach new
traditions.
At the confluence between multiple religious traditions, Inari became a subject for the
numerous discourses of the people involved in those traditions. As such a subject, Inari was a
locus for working out the meanings of abstract religio-social concepts, such as sovereignty and
xi

wisdom. The dissertation demonstrates that in the activity of the meeting of these religious
traditions around Inari, the kami’s identity was constantly reimagined and it was precisely
through this reimagining that the cult of Inari and the traditions of the deity were able to gain
sufficient cultural purchase to ensure it would have a prominent place in the religious landscape
of Japan into the modern period.
1

INTRODUCTION
This dissertation is about the Japanese deity, or kami, named Inari 稲荷 and the practices
and traditions related to Inari in premodern Japan. The name of Inari could literally be translated
to “rice-bearer” based upon the meaning of the two Chinese characters used to render it in
writing, ine (稲 “rice”) and nari (荷 “to bear''). The kami is most widely considered a god of rice
and good fortune, capable of bestowing wealth and success in business or other endeavors. While
not a member, Inari is sometimes counted alongside the Seven Lucky Gods (七福神 Shichi
fukugami), who enjoy widespread veneration. Today, shrines for no other kami are as numerous
in Japan as those to Inari. A recent survey recorded around forty thousand shrines to Inari.
1
The
original Inari shrine, called the Fushimi Inari Great Shrine (伏⾒稲荷⼤社 Fushimi Inari taisha),

1
Ōmori Keiko, Inari shinkō no seikai: Inari matsuri to shinbutsu shugō (Tokyo: Keiyūsha 2012),
20.
Figure 1: Tower gate (楼門 rōmon) at the entrance of the Fushimi Inari Great Shrine. Photo by Author. 2014.
2

is located in Kyoto, on a
mountain called Mount
Inari (稲荷⼭ Inariyama).
It is unclear whether the
mountain’s name or the
shrine’s name came first.
This Fushimi Inari Great
Shrine is among the most
recognizable of Shintō
shrines, for locals and
foreigners alike. It has long tunnels of vermillion and black torii, gates that designate entrances
to the sacred domain of kami and ward off malevolent spirits (Figure 2). The shrine is said to
have ten thousand such gates. These gates feature frequently in movies or on the covers of books
that use the image to evoke an indisputable sense of Japanese architecture.
2
This shrine and most
others of Inari are also easily recognizable because of the prevalence of fox statues, an animal
that has a complicated relationship with Inari. It is likewise among the most famous tourist
destinations in Japan.
The Fushimi Inari Shrine covers 870,000 square meters and has dozens of structures on
its grounds.
3
There are other large Inari shrines in Japan, such as the Toyokawa Inari Shrine in
Aichi Prefecture or the Saijō Inari Shrine in Okayama Prefecture, although none approach the

2
The gates are for instance used twice in Memoirs of Geisha (2005), despite the Fushimi shrine
being actually quite distant from the rest of the activity in the film. They were also chosen to grace the
cover of Helen Hardacre’s Shinto: A History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017).
3
This is according to the official website of the Fushimi Inari Taisha. http://inari.jp/en/faq/
Accessed August 8
th
, 2021.
Figure 2: Tunnel of torii leading from inner shrine to mountain path. Photo by
Author. 2014.
3

size of the Fushimi site. On the other
hand, the vast majority of Inari shrines
are quite small: perhaps a single hall
housing sacred artifacts or only a little
enclosed altar, too diminutive for a
person to step inside. These small shrines
can be found on the side of roads, down
alleys, and as sub-shrines on the grounds
of shrine complexes primarily for other
kami. They can also be found on the roofs of business headquarters or tucked away into malls. It
is as if the veneration of Inari has seeped into every corner of Japan. There are also Inari shrines
outside of Japan, located in places such as Hawai’i and Los Angeles. According to the often-
quoted Morisada mankō 守貞漫稿, a late Edo period (1600-1868) source, to say that something
was common, a resident of Edo would claim that it was like “shops called Iseya, Inari shrines,
and dogshit.”
4
With the shrines’ current ubiquity, this aphorism would be an understatement
today. However, the contemporary multitude of Inari shrines is a result of developments from
after 1600, and therefore outside of the purview explored in this project.
This dissertation will focus on the Inari cult from prior to the Edo period. More
specifically, I will give most of my attention to materials from the years 1200 to 1500. This is a
time span that overlaps the traditional Kamakura (1185-1333) and Muromachi (1336-1573)

4
See “Iseya Inari ni Inu no kuso 伊勢屋稲荷に犬の糞,” Koji zokushin kotowaza daijiten (Tokyo:
Shōgakukan 2012). Accessed via JapanKnowledge. The Morisada mankō was completed around 1853,
although not actually published until 1908. It was compiled by Kitagawa Morisada as a sort of journal on
local customs and practices for Kyoto, Osaka, and Edo.
Figure 3: Inari sub-shrine on the grounds of Zenrinji in
Kyoto. Photo by author. 2017.
4

periods. During those years, and before, there was only one Inari shrine of note—the original
Fushimi shrine, which was then most often simply called the Inari Shrine (稲荷社 Inarisha) as
there was no need for additional qualifiers to distinguish it from any other. Indeed, when
historical records refer to activities at or involving the shrine, it was commonplace for authors to
use shorthand and only write “Inari,” such that the name was a means to refer to both a deity and
an institution. Because of this linguistic imprecision, it is often the case that we cannot
distinguish whether miraculous efficacy was attributed to the kami or the shrine, or whether that
distinction would matter. Therefore, much of the dissertation includes an exploration of the
relationship between the shrine and its kami. It should also be stated that while I frequently use
the term 'cult' in the singular, there were in fact a variety of currents of worship practices and
myths associated with Inari, that cannot be easily reconciled nor untangled, and so it may be
more appropriate at times to use 'cults' in the plural.
The study of this cult reveals much about the intricacies of medieval Japanese society.
While during the premodern period the Inari shrine could not claim the eminence that would
come from the cult’s present number of shrines, the institution stood near the pinnacle of
Japanese society in other ways. It held an important place in state-ritual practices. It was closely
connected to a powerful clan entwined in the early politics and economy of Japan. It became a
key site for multiple, overlapping esoteric religious discourses. The shrine also enjoyed the
attention of popular festivals and pilgrimage practices from multiple levels of society. This being
the case, the Inari shrine and cult sit at a nexus of networks, actors, and ideas. So, what made the
Inari kami, the shrine, and its foxes so appealing to different people during the premodern
period? My research explores answers to this question by delving into all these issues and
thereby contributes to our understanding of the interlaced nature of shrine cults within Japanese
5

society. Throughout this dissertation, I will provide a view of the mechanisms by which the Inari
cult interacted with the Japanese cultural landscape and shaped its place therein.

Inari and “Shintō Studies”
Inari is a kami, a term usually reserved for gods that are considered particular to Japan
and therefore local deities. Today, Inari is recognized as part of the tradition that is referred to as
“Shintō.” By now it is well-established in academic studies that, contrary to what has otherwise
widely been claimed, Shintō is a relatively recent invented tradition and the term does not
appropriately reference local Japanese religious practices until the late thirteenth century.
5
Even
then, there were multiple Shintō traditions, usually considered parts of Buddhist schools,
assembled over the centuries, and these were heavily inflected by bodies of knowledge and ritual
technologies that were derived from currents of continental traditions. Indeed, even some kami
are now recognized to be deities that were brought along with immigrant kinship groups to the
Japanese archipelago and then localized along with the clans that worshiped them. Consequently,
the roots of Shintō are neither uniform nor necessarily indigenous. Furthermore, Shintō in its
current state differs greatly from those medieval traditions, as extensive reimaginings of kami
worship occurred conjointly with the activities of nativists during the Meiji Revolution in the
nineteenth century. The practices of the Inari cults in the premodern period differ greatly from
this Shintō. Therefore, in this dissertation, rather than Shintō, I will use the terms “kami
traditions,” “kami cults,” “kami veneration,” and other similar phrases to refer to those groupings

5
On the inventions of Shintō as a modern religion and subject of academic study, see Tomoko
Masuzawa, The Invention of World Religions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005), 1-33.
6

of traditions and practices used to worship the local gods of Japan.
6
Shintō will be a rather
uncommon term in the work that follows.
Even so, this project is squarely situated amidst a new wave of Shintō Studies in Western
academia. Mark Teeuwen recently encapsulated the issues that plague the study of Shintō and
premodern Japanese religions by stating that "the concept of Shinto always post-dated the
phenomena that it has sought to conceptualize. This implies that later concepts of Shinto can
never be applied to periods that pre-date their formation."
7
In other words, while scholars
previously had labeled many sites, rituals, and actors as somehow being inherently Shintō, based
upon their position as native to Japan, this effectively obscured the dynamics between traditions
by imposing a consistency of affiliation that was directly contrary to the many intellectual breaks
that would eventually lead to the conceptualization of a tradition called “Shintō.” Consequently,
both the inception of modern Shintō and the actual relations between premodern traditions were
frequently misconstrued in earlier studies of Japanese religions. More recent studies have
therefore sought to reassess the dynamics of the premodern Japanese religious landscape by
asking questions about the activities that may have produced the circumstances from which
Shintō was invented.
By shifting the focus of inquiry in this way, the premodern landscape often appears to
have been substantially Buddhist. The institutions, the thinkers, the authors, and the ideas that are

6
This practice has become somewhat commonplace in academia and eloquent explanations can be
found in the work Anna Andreeva, Assembling Shinto: Buddhist approaches to Kami worship in
Medieval Japan (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2017), 1-3; and Michael Como, Weaving and
Binding: Immigrants Gods and Female Immortals in Ancient Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i
Press, 2009), 1-4. In fact, Kuroda Toshio already argued something similar when he stated that scholars
should be discussing jingi sūhai 神祇崇拝 (the worship of the kami of Heaven and Earth) in the Heian
period, rather than Shintō. See Kuroda Toshio, “Shintō in the History of Japanese Religions,” trans.
James Dobbins and Suzanne Gay. Journal of Japanese Studies 7 (1981): 1-21.
7
Mark Teeuwen, “On writing the history of Shinto” in Michael Pye, eds., Exploring Shinto
(Sheffield, UK: Equinox, 2020), 63.
7

easiest to identify are overwhelmingly Buddhist. In their introduction to Buddhas and Kami in
Japan, Teeuwen and Rambelli went so far as to claim, "Shinto hardly existed as an autonomous
cultic system -- for the very reason that its deities were worshipped first and foremost as
emanations of Buddhist divinities."
8
This statement needs clarification. First, it is something of
an exaggeration, worded in an attempt to correct earlier scholarship that insisted on the isolation
of the study of kami from the study of Buddhism and to provide emphasis on the combinatory or
porous nature of religious traditions in premodern Japan. As a corrective, it is helpful to
illuminate many qualities of Japanese religions. Specifically, it is well known that by the eighth
century, Japanese thinkers promoted a conception of shinbutsu shūgō (神仏習合, “combination
of kami and buddhas”), wherein kami were worshiped alongside Buddhist deities and through
Buddhist means. Yet, while local Japanese deities were certainly sometimes worshiped as
temporary or local manifestations of Buddhist divinities, below we will also see plenty of
examples where Inari is venerated as Inari qua Inari, without any indication that the kami should
be understood as an emanation of some other deity. In this regard, Teeuwen’s and Rambelli’s
statement is an overcorrection. Second, the notion that kami were local manifestations of
Buddhist divinities is a key element of honji suijaku (本地垂迹, “original grounds and manifest
traces”) thought, an intellectual paradigm embraced by numerous authors in the premodern
periods wherein kami were considered local manifestations of Buddhist deities and finely attuned
to the particular needs of the Japanese people.
9
The terminology of origins and manifestations

8
Italics for emphasis are my own. Mark Teeuwen and Fabio Rambelli, eds., Buddhas and Kami in
Japan: Honji suijaku as a combinatory paradigm (London: Routledge, 2003), 1.
9
The scholarship on honji suijaku is extensive. For useful English language treatments of the
subject, see particularly Susan Tyler, “Honji Suijaku Faith,” Journal of Japanese Religions 16, no. 2-3
(1989): 227-250; Teeuwen and Rambelli, eds., “Introduction: Combinatory religion and the honji suijaku
paradigm in pre-modern Japan,” in Buddhas and Kami in Japan: Honji suijaku, 1-53; Andreeva,16-24;
8

presupposes a hierarchy wherein buddhas and bodhisattvas were considered superior to kami.
This too certainly was true in many contexts. However, over time reconsiderations of the
cosmological place of kami led to some authors claiming that kami should be understood as the
original grounds instead. Additionally, often Inari and other kami were worshiped via Buddhist
rituals that did not explicitly require the local gods to be viewed as emanations of some other
Buddhist divinity. So, Buddhist propitiation could be and was offered to deities without
particularly Buddhist origins and, in the midst of this substantially Buddhist landscape, kami and
local iterations of Buddhist practices still flourished.
At the same time, it is important to recognize that Japanese thinkers had numerous
religious technologies available to them and that they made good use of them. Which is to say, if
we suppose that Buddhist traditions were the most prominent in the premodern period, this is by
no means to support a notion that any sort of religious or intellectual conflict from the time was
inherently a result of the clashing of Buddhist and native thought. For instance, it is well
established that the festival calendars of medieval Japanese society were closely modeled after
those of China.
10
Moreover, divination technologies utilized by the Yin-Yang Bureau of the
government were clearly modeled on precedents that originated on the continent and independent
of Buddhist institutions. Furthermore, the conceptualizations of cosmogony found throughout
Japanese mythologies bear striking resemblance to discourses favored in what are now labeled as
Daoist works. This is all in addition to rituals that are considered central to modern Shinto
traditions and that whose origins readily be attributed to one of the above traditions, such as

and Yeonjoo Park, “Medieval Tendai Buddhist Views of Kami” in Michael Pye, eds., Exploring Shinto,
81-89.
10
Como, xi-xii.
9

oharai お祓い purification rites, kagura 神楽 dance, or Niinamesai 新嘗祭 rituals.
11
We will see
that Buddhist ideas were readily applied to the Inari deity, but they were far from the only
strands of thought within the cults.
When there are particular Japanese inflections of ritual practice involving deities in the
medieval religious milieu, it cannot be said that these resulted solely from indigenous discourses.
However, it can be said that these activities were nonetheless particularly Japanese in the sense
that they came from the localizations of different religious strands. It is especially important,
though, to be cognizant of the fact that it was Buddhist epistemes that provided the framework
within which these tangles of discourses were applied and investigated. For this reason,
inventing traditions for Inari often involved localizing Buddhist practices, and we will see below
Inari associated with Buddhist forms of state protection, ritual purification, and similar things.
Understanding this is the primary benefit of recognizing the eminence of Buddhist discourses in
the religious landscape. For instance, it was Buddhist categories of enlightenment that were used
to differentiate taxonomies of deities in some traditions and eventually utilized to turn the
hierarchy of honji suijaku upside down.
12
In other words, inverting the relationships in the honji
suijaku paradigm of course does not mean an escape from Buddhist intellectual frameworks, it
just means that there were multiple ways of conceptualizing the sources of enlightenment. New
local Japanese traditions related to kami worship were derived within similar sorts of

11
Of course, the oharai rites do have some continental near equivalents. See Como, 92-93.
Niinamesai and Daijōsai rituals are harvest rituals that were early on forged to venerate Amaterasu and
reliant upon the divinity of the emperor. While not having any specific ties to the above traditions either,
there practices in southeastern China that may have served as inspiration. See, Kojima Yoshiyuki, Taiyō
to ine no shinden: Ise Jingū no inasaku girei (Tokyo: Hakusuisha, 1999) and Morita Yūzō, Daijōsai no
okorori to jinjashinkō Daijōsai no yūki shuki saidenchi wo tazunete (Tokyo: Sanwa shobako, 2019).
12
Fabio Rambelli, “Before the First Buddha: Medieval Japanese Cosmogony and the Quest for the
Primeval Kami," Monumenta Nipponica 64, no. 2 (2009): 235–271.
10

innovations. I would also remind that if today we can analyze complex discourses and
understand the varied intellectual traditions from which they arose, it would be hubris to assume
that premodern Japanese scholar-authors were unaware of the intellectual providence of these
concepts. When examining the traditions of Inari worship below, we will find that this is indeed
true: there are ample examples of authors reinventing Inari through the indigenization of
continental ideas and the deft weaving of those together with local traditions.
This being the case, in the study of medieval kami worship, attempting to isolate one set
of practices and traditions in the intricate religious landscape is not only difficult, but also
counterproductive and contra-reality. It is for this reason that I focus on connections and
associations in my work. It is also for this reason that I have decided to focus specifically on the
Inari kami and its shrine. Already in the 1980s, Allan Grapard urged scholars to turn to site
specific studies to improve our understanding of medieval Japanese religions. He argued that the
study of shrine complexes would allow for views of the interplay between local and translocal
discourses that were necessary to understand the cultural milieu as a whole.
13
In the intervening
years, a few scholars have taken up important investigations with this as impetus. Teeuwen’s
work on the Ise cult has done much to illuminate the interweavings of Buddhist and other
traditions at shrine complexes erected for the imperial ancestors. Teeuwen’s studies of Ise have
been particularly useful for how they highlight that shrines, even those considered the “Divine
Capital'' of Japan for centuries, continually had need to reinvent themselves according to the
whims and needs of the various social and political groups involved in their maintenance.
14
Anna
Andreeva’s work with the institutions of Mt. Miwa has also done important work to elucidate the

13
Allan Grapard, “Institution, Ritual, and Ideology: The Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes
of Heian Japan,” History of Religions (February 1988): 264-265.
14
Mark Teeuwen and John Breen, A Social History of the Ise Shrines: Divine Capital (London:
Bloomsbury Academic, 2017).
11

ways in which human actors had assembled particular iterations of Ryōbu Shintō traditions there
that then radiated outwards to connect with important temple practices.
15
She observed that the
seemingly peripheral teachings about kami associated with Mt. Miwa and their relations to
significant Buddhist deities were eventually absorbed by major temples when monastics in such
places attempted to transcend previous dichotomies in Buddhist thought that caused conflicts
with new intellectual trends in the fourteenth century.
16
This language of assemblage that
Andreeva introduces is particularly useful for considering the activities of medieval authors and
practitioners.
17
Religious traditions at these sites are, in part, brought together by people
intentionally. This is what becomes most obvious when the focus is shifted to a particular site in
the study of Japanese religious traditions: many layers of traditions are actively overlaid upon a
site by the people of those institutions with intention and awareness. Then, if convincing, those
layers of tradition might be taken up and interwoven with broader discourses, assembling
broader traditions, and in this activity ideas about sites and kami simultaneously flowed across
the Japanese landscape as well as up and down the social strata within Buddhist institutions. The
focus on a shrine and cult like that of Inari allows for an attention to the mechanisms by which
medieval practitioners assembled their traditions and rituals for the kami.
Of course, all this deconstruction makes it difficult to discuss any continuity between the
early kami traditions and modern Shintō. Recently, a new wrinkle has been introduced into
Shintō Studies by the work of Helen Hardacre, who has sought to bridge the gap between kami

15
Ryōbu Shintō is a tradition that understands there to be correspondence between the Buddhist
deities of the Womb and Diamond World Mandalas and the local deities of Japan. This tradition is
primarily centered on the Grand Ise Shrine and takes the Inner and Outer shrines of that to be
representative of the two mandalas. Gained prominence in the late Kamakura period.
16
Andreeva, 217-233.
17
Andreeva has introduced the term ‘assemblage’ based upon the work of Bruno Latour and of
Saskia Sassen.
12

worship from the time of the incipient Japanese state to the modern religion.
18
Hardacre argues
that with the establishment of the Jingikan, or “Ministry of Divinities,” in the mid-seventh
century, a clear conceptual divide between kami and Buddhist traditions was affirmed.
19
The
Ministry, as a political institution, promoted discourses that kami worship was both indigenous
and public in nature. In Hardacre’s view, the Jingikan served as an institutional, if idealized,
basis for a unified and coherent kami worship throughout history. The consequences of
Hardacre’s work are not yet clear.
20
It is certainly important for its emphasis on the
institutionalized nature of kami veneration in the premodern period and exploration of the
official ties that bind together the major shrines of Japan, something that has been desperately
missing from previous scholarship. The first chapter of this dissertation will likewise explore the
relationship between Inari and the Ministry of Divinities. It is clear that the Inari shrine early on
in its history gained much from its association with the governmental institution. However, my
study of Inari cannot put its ties with the Ministry at the center of the dissertation. Much of the
kami worship for Inari has no apparent connection to the offices of the Jingikan, so it is evident
that the institution of the Ministry only encompasses a portion of kami-related practices in

18
While not specifically a problem based upon the way that Hardacre forms her argument,
extending the history of Shintō back into the Heian period is faced with the additional difficulty that the
Chinese characters of 神道 were largely read “jindō” or “shindō” and were used simply to refer to deities
in general.
19
Hardacre, 5-18.
20
Hardacre’s position has met with stiff criticism. Primary critiques are based upon an
understanding that Shintō as a term for an independent tradition can only be found from the 15
th
century
and the work of Yoshida Kanetomo, and so it should not be used anachronously; that the Jingikan had
limited interaction and control of most shrines; and that kami worship at numerous shrines had a
substantially private character. See Michael Pye, “Shinto: A History. By Helen Hardacre. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2017. Pp. 720, 83 Illustrations. $39.95 (cloth),” History of Religions 58, no. 4 (2019):
471–473; Mark Teeuwen, “Shinto: A History by Helen Hardacre (review).” Harvard journal of Asiatic
studies 79, no. 1 (2019): 335–344; Klaus Antoni, “Hardacre, Helen. Shinto: A History. New York:
Oxford University Press, 2017. Xi+720 Pp. $39.95 (cloth),” The Journal of Religion 98, no. 4 (2018):
575–577; and Fabio Rambelli, “Shinto: A History, Written by Helen Hardacre,” Journal of Religion in
Japan 6, no. 2 (2017): 157–162.
13

premodern Japan. In the same vein, if a study of Inari focused only on those aspects that are
distinctly public and Shintō in the sense outlined by Hardacre, it would only tell part of the story
of this kami. That is perhaps the fundamental reason that, while my project does contribute to
Shintō Studies because it is about a kami, it is not much about the traditions that have been
classically considered “Shintō.” Instead, by unraveling the complex ways that the Inari cult
existed and functioned with the medieval Japanese landscape, I provide a wide and detailed view
of what may have contributed to modern Shintō. The dissertation is about Inari and must follow
wherever the material goes.

Japanese Studies of Inari
The major studies of Inari in Japanese predate the above discussions. They also are prior
to or roughly contemporary to the critiques of Kuroda Toshio in the 1980s that served as the
grounds for Grapard’s arguments. Instead, these studies were rooted in the intellectual trends to
which Kuroda, Grapard, and others had been responding. Nativist intellectuals of the early
modern period such as Motoori Norinaga (1730-1801), Hirata Atsutane (1776-1843), and Ban
Nobutomo (1773-1846) posited the cult of the imperial family and the sun goddess Amaterasu,
the divine imperial ancestor, as the central, prime authority of a coherent religious system.
21

These scholars searched through and reinterpreted various mythologies to support their position.
Postwar scholarship largely discarded the goal of supporting the sacrality and centrality of the
emperor but had been captivated by the notion that there was an original, autochthonous

21
For overviews of this movement, see Kōnoshi Takamatsu, “Constructing Imperial Mythology:
Kojiki and Nihon shoki,” trans. Iori Jōkō, in Haruo Shirane and Tomi Suzuki, Inventing the Classics:
Modernity, National Identity, and Japanese Literature, (Stanford, California: Stanford University Press,
1999), 51-67; Isomae Jun’ichi, Japanese Mythology: Hermeneutics of Scripture, trans. Mukund
Subramanian (London: Routledge, 2014), 108-125; and Hardacre, 326-354.
14

religious tradition of Japan that could be a direct, spiritual successor to modern Shintō. Much of
this work focused on excavating animistic beliefs from within folk traditions so as to find an
essence of Japanese religiosity. This in large part stems from the original position of folklore
studies (⺠俗学 minzokugaku) vis-à-vis Shintō as asserted by Yanagita Kunio. Right in the
middle of the war, Yanagita proposed that the importance of studying the folk aspects of Shintō
is contingent upon these being the fundamental characteristics of Japanese culture and helpful for
understanding the hearts or minds of the Japanese people.
22
Recent work has recognized the
faults in such analysis. While the study of folklore has revealed considerable insights into the
variety of mythologies and traditions in premodern Japan, such studies were often essentialist in
nature, and little attention was paid to the institutions and people and historical processes that
forged and reforged the networks of kami cults that would be foundational for the traditions now
known as Shintō.
In the midst of this, Inari studies entered a new phase in the late twentieth century
through the work of Naoe Hiroji, Higo Kazuo, Ōmori Keiko, and Gorai Shigeru. The work of
these scholars has been foundational for most subsequent studies of Inari, and my own research
is heavily indebted to their efforts. However, their scholarship was guided to varying degrees by
the inherent biases of theories of Japanese uniqueness (⽇本⼈論 nihonjinron) from the 1970s
and 1980s.
23
Here, I consider their conclusions, observations, and limitations, so as to both make
it clear how my own work moves beyond earlier scholarship and why it is important to do so.

22
Yanagita Kunio, Shintō to minzokugaku (Tōkyō: Meiseidō, 1943), see especially the preface +
19-22.
23
For some of the characteristics of Nihonjinron, see Tessa Morris-Suzuki, Re-inventing Japan:
Time, Space, Nation (Armonk, N.Y.: M. E. Sharpe, 1998) and Harumi Befu, Hegemony of Homogeneity:
an Anthropological Analysis of “Nihonjinron” (Melbourne: Trans Pacific Press, 2001).
15

The first significant postwar collection of scholarship on the Inari cult was a collection of
publications overseen by the academics Naoe Hiroji and Higo Kazuo.
24
In this edited volume,
many scholars sought to identify the elements of Inari traditions that could be presumed as the
earliest and most fundamental aspects of kami worship and Japanese culture. The focus of this
study was on Inari’s associations with agriculture, grains, and related technologies. In Higo’s
analysis, the prominence of the Inari deity results from the ubiquity of agricultural communities
in the provinces around the early capitals of Nara and Kyoto.
25
Inari then may have been
elevated to a deity of industry as well based upon the arrival of the Hata immigrant kinship group
as they gained enough prestige to assume control of the Fushimi shrine. This position is feasible
but hampered by a lack of evidence prior to the arrival of the Hata. Furthermore, Higo assumed a
sharp division between the esoteric and scholastic discourses of the premodern Buddhist temples
and the agrarian nature of Inari, going so far as to state that Inari was likely brought under the
dominion of the temple Tōji as the philosophical approaches of the temple would have been
unappealing to the common people (⺠衆 minshū) and ties to the Inari cult could overcome this.
The process and nature of the associations between Inari and Tōji are endlessly interesting and
will be discussed substantially in this dissertation. However, at the outset I will state that Higo’s
stance is problematic both for its assumption of a simplistic nature for people outside of the
Buddhist institutions and for its simultaneous essentializations of the characteristics of Inari and
Buddhist traditions.

24
Naoe Hiroji, eds., Inari shinkō (Tokyo: Yūzankaku shuppan, 1983). Higo Kazuo provided the
introduction to the volume.
25
Higo Kazuo, “Inari shinkō no kigen to fukyū,” in Naoe, 4-9.
16

Gorai Shigeru and his students provided a second edited volume shortly after Naoe and
Higo.
26
This volume was based on an extensive survey of Inari shrines throughout the country.
Gorai’s work was primarily taxonomic in nature. He noted that Inari has a reputation as a
“complicated and mysterious (複雑怪奇 fukuzatsu kaiki)” kami and sought to delineate the
various varieties of Inari deities that the survey had recorded.
27
For him, the whole of the
confluence of Inari traditions was an especially appropriate target for religious folk studies based
upon the ubiquitous and “plebeian (庶⺠的 shominteki)” nature of the cults. Finding a way to
separate and organize the Inari cults was part of the process of understanding the non-
institutionalized religions of the Japanese people. For the early modern and modern periods,
Gorai’s methodology is particularly helpful for understanding the wide range of cults that have
been brought under the Inari umbrella. In regard to the premodern period, Gorai’s work was
especially important for his insistence that scholars had been too fixated on Inari as a Shintō
deity and thereby ignored the Buddhist aspects of Inari worship.
28
It is from Gorai’s research into
the connections of Inari and Dakiniten, a goddess we will see much more of later, that some of
the most productive reconsiderations of the Inari cults have arisen.
29
However, Gorai often read
the modern popular practices of Inari back into the traditions of the past and assumed that they
are representative of ancient traditions rather than recent innovations, thereby giving perceived
popular practices a place of priority.
30
This is in part a continuation of previous efforts to find an

26
Gorai Shigeru, eds. Inari shinkō no kenkyū (Okayama: San’yō shinbunsha, 1985).
27
Gorai opens the book by describing Inari in this way and frequently comes back to this or
similar descriptors. Gorai claims to use this term based upon its usage by prime minister Tōjō Hideki
before the war, who was then describing the state of affairs in the world. Gorai, 3.
28
This is an argument that Gorai develops in multiple ways, but see particularly pages 78-93.
29
I will not cite these studies here, as they figure prominently in the rest of the dissertation.
30
See for instance Gorai, 93, where he supposed that the cult of the Fushimi shrine must originally
have been a properly Shintōish space before Tōji bound Inari to Dakiniten. There is a sense in this
17

origin for the Inari cults. Yet, it often resulted in Gorai taking the practices of the Inari cult, those
related to oracles, mediums, offerings, shrines, or temples and similar such practices, out of their
context. This often obscures the agency of people and institutions, and the connections between
them, which will be a subject of significance throughout my dissertation.
The final work of importance is that of Ōmori Keiko.
31
Ōmori’s research picks up much
of what had been begun by Gorai. Her monograph avoids most of the essentializations of the
previous works and instead adopts a methodology that is largely descriptive. She provides an
exhaustive account of the phenomenology of Inari as a guardian deity, the many qualities
attributed to the kami, the Fushimi shrine’s relationship to the temple of Tōji, the possible
connections between the deity and foxes, and received knowledge about the eventual spread of
Inari worship.
32
This work is formidable in its depth and presents many tantalizing details for
further studies.
My ambition in this project is to recontextualize the elements of the Inari cults that have
been identified by these scholars. Following the arguments of the scholarship from the previous
section, I will not be isolating Inari from the various institutional discourses of the premodern
period but embracing the associations of those discourses. Through this I will demonstrate that
the actors and agents in the Inari cult carefully curated the image of their deity so as to appeal to
numerous traditions and peoples. The dissertation will make it clear that building and
maintaining a kami cult in Japan was primarily a matter of weaving religious discourses together

description that the shrine’s course had been redirected or perhaps corrupted by the temple’s intervention.
See also page 9, where Gorai supposed there must have been a distinction between Folk Inari cults,
Shintō Inari cults, and Buddhist Inari cults.
31
Ōmori Keiko, Inari shinkō to shūkyō minzoku (Tokyo: Iwata shoin, 1994).
32
Ōmori also published a second book on Inari in which she has considerably reorganized and
trimmed the contents of this first volume. See, Ōmori Keiko, Inari shinkō no sekai: Inari matsuri to
shinbutsu shūgō (Tokyo: Keiyūsha, 2011).
18

and negotiating with the cultural authorities that populate the religious landscape. It is this
context that gave meaning to the practices and beliefs investigated by Gorai and the others. In
this way, my work will build upon this past research and offer some additional insights as well as
move beyond it.

Connections and Imagination
This project is about making connections and using those connections to demonstrate the
particular nature of the influential position of a major cult like that of Inari on the religious
landscape of medieval Japan. In part, this means carefully examining how discourses of the Inari
cult were interwoven with other discourses. This also means situating events involving the Inari
shrine within larger societal trends known to have affected other religious institutions. To do this,
I have found concepts from numerous branches of the humanities useful. As will become clear
throughout the discussion of this dissertation, it is my understanding that the human imagination
is the primary site where the connections important to this project occur. This is to say that all of
the authors who have written stories and myths about Inari, all of the scholar monks that have
composed ritual instructions for the invoking of the kami’s power, rely in large part on the
imaginations of their audience to make the connections between Inari-related narratives and
other prevalent discourses present in premodern Japan. While it is sometimes necessary to
remember the important roles of imagination in human experience, there are ample examples of
theoretical and methodological tools that help illuminate this reality. In this section I will explain
some of those tools on which I have particularly relied and that inform my readings of primary
sources.
19

First, to trace the cultural currents of Inari worship beyond just elite culture, my study of
Inari focuses on its presence in vernacular literature. It is through vernacular literature that elite
groups would try to present their discourses so as to appeal to the sensibilities and concerns of
broad audiences.
33
It is largely the case that the works I have studied have been compiled or
written by authors from elite institutions and, in part, created according to the agendas and
concerns of these elite institutions, but they use vernacular language to convey the authors’
discourses to a wider audience than purely doctrinal language would allow. Crucially, these
works promote elite discourses to audiences outside of the authors’ circle by representing the
cults of Inari in ways which both conform to the audience’s interests and expectations and inject
the authors’ own ideological and doctrinal concerns amongst those of a wider audience. Studying
the vernacular literature then is an effective way to approximate the concerns of people living in
medieval Japan precisely because it is written by elite authors attempting to disseminate their
ideas. That is, vernacular literature is usually a tool for conveying some doctrine or discourse,
but for the author to convince the audience of this discourse they must embed it amidst elements
and concerns from the audience’s daily lives. This is much like what Jacques Le Goff wrote
concerning the choices medieval European authors made for the cultural images they included in
their works:
these choices were not free. They depended in complex ways on the social structure, the
dominant ideology, and the degree to which that ideology emphasized tradition…The success of a
theme of the imagination in any society is related to the degree to which the relation between that
theme and the rest of the cultural and mental legacy captures the contemporary context.
34

33
For an insightful discussion of the utility of vernacular literature in the study of religion, which
has been formative for the following discussion, see Keller Kimbrough and Hank Glassman, “Editors’
Introduction: Vernacular Buddhism and Medieval Japanese Literature,” Japanese Journal of Religious
Studies 36, no. 2 (2009): 201-208.
34
Jacques Le Goff, The Medieval Imagination, trans. Arthur Goldhammer (Chicago: Chicago
University Press, 1988), 172.
20

Therefore, such vernacular sources would be generally representative of contemporary concerns,
while also being part of the authors’ efforts to reform those contemporary concerns according to
their own agenda. This will be especially relevant later in the dissertation as I investigate the
types of and means by which doctrines related to Buddhist or other practices are integrated into
the narratives of Inari.
In interpreting the discourses of texts associated with Inari, I draw on two theoretical
positions in particular. These methods of interpretation build from theories found in
anthropological and literary studies. It is these perspectives which allow us to find the authors’
and audiences’ concerns in close textual studies. The first is to view religious traditions as being
composed of ‘religious repertoires.’ Robert Ford Campany, among others, has argued that
narrative stories present particular ‘idioms’ of a religious tradition, and that these idioms are
based in a particular place and time.
35
The narratives’ idioms provide the audience with
resources or tools—such as ideas, words, values, rituals, stories, persons, and strategies—
through which they may interpret and experience reality. Individuals can group these resources
together into repertoires or toolkits and identify them as religious traditions. The individual
elements of these repertoires may be appropriate to certain situations, while being contradictory
to other elements of the repertoires. This can lead to inconsistency within repertoires.
Additionally, at any given time, multiple and different traditions or groups will be promoting
their individual discourses and individual repertoires within “contestational fields.”
36
In other
words, individuals are theoretically free to pick and choose from these repertoires based upon
what practices or ideas they find helpful. However, through individual narratives and collections

35
Robert Ford Campany, Signs from the Unseen Realm: Buddhist Miracle Tales from Early
Medieval China (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2012), 30-31.
36
Robert Ford Campany, “Religious Repertoires and Contestation: A Case Study Based on
Buddhist Miracles Tales,” History of Religions 52, no.2 (November 2012); 109.
21

of stories, authors and compilers espouse the efficacy of particular practices and ideas in contest
with other authors. These stories participate in the creation and maintenance of repertoires, and
successful stories dictate the shape of a repertoire. By closely reading such stories over time and
location we see changes in the religious repertoires associated with individual gods, and the
efforts of different authors to maintain the repertoire of their cults. This move is crucial as we
will see that the tales of Inari provide ever-changing tools for their audience to understand reality
and it preempts us from assuming only one alignment of those tools is possible. I would also
suggest it makes the importance of crafting a successful narrative clear.
The second theoretical move I make is to view the gods like Inari in these stories as
nodes in large religious networks. This move is inspired by the recent work of Bernard Faure in
The Fluid Pantheon.
37
Building on Bruno Latour’s actor-network theories, Faure argues that
gods should be viewed as “’the moving target of a vast array of entities swarming toward
it’…[and] ever-changing nodes within a network constantly in flux.”
38
When gods are
recognized as moving nodes in unstable networks, it likewise becomes clear that the identities of
the Japanese gods are unstable. Humans also are nodes within these networks. Humans are the
primary actors and the nodes of the gods are moved around according to the actions and
discourses of humans. However, with the gods and their repertoires as intervening nodes, it
would seem that they too affect changes on other nodes of the networks based upon how their
fluid identities change. This occurs because as relations around the god change within the
network, the god’s identity changes, and then other relations the god has with surrounding nodes

37
Bernard Faure, Gods of Medieval Japan: Vol. 1 The Fluid Pantheon (Honolulu: University of
Hawai’i Press, 2016), 9-49 (“Introduction” and “Chapter 1, Twists and Turns: Pantheons, Structures,
Beyond and In Between”).
38
Faure, The Fluid Pantheon, 10. The first phrase in this quotation comes from Bruno Latour,
Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network Theory (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2005), 46.
22

also change. The gods then are ‘actors’ in the sense that they affect changes on nodes around
them as their relations change. This contributes to the aforementioned scholarship which
recognizes that religious traditions are fluid, dynamic phenomena in the Japanese cultural
landscape, which mutually form and enrich the landscape, by illuminating the mechanics by
which a kami may mediate the relations between humans and their discourses. I see the cult of
Inari and the god itself as one node in a network of people and ideas which includes Buddhist
schools, Tantric traditions, kami traditions, Yin-Yang traditions, Confucian teachings, and clan
mythologies. These currents of people and ideas pass through the node composed of the cult and
its god. The currents both reshape Inari and are shaped by the god before flowing on to reshape
other features of the Japanese cultural landscape.
I bring this second theoretical perspective to the study of these stories because the stories
posit the structure of many relationships between multiple gods, people, and conceptions through
their narratives. Religious repertoires may be variously accessed and rearranged by individuals,
but, as the above quotation from Le Goff implies, authors and compilers present these repertoires
in particular arrangements through the discourses they deploy in their narratives. In a similar
vein, Roland Barthes argues in Mythologies that it is the speech-act that freezes the arbitrary
relations of signs and makes language seem natural, creating meaning for constellations of signs
and myths.
39
Each narrative of Inari is just such an act, positing and arranging the network of
discourses and signs of the god’s repertoire. When authors write or compile stories they create or
rearrange relations between the gods and other nodes in a network. The relations posited in these
stories then act as structures for religious repertoires. In turn, those structures are the logic of the
narrative’s discourse. This means that while in theory individuals are free to pick and choose the

39
Roland Barthes, Mythologies, trans. Richard Howard and Annette Lavers (New York: Hill and
Wang, 2012), 235-236.
23

compositions of such repertoires, in practice they are presented choices for repertoires within
strict discourses that dictate the compositions of those repertoires, and how they mediate a
person’s understanding of reality. Or, put another way, we are free to use our imaginations to
make connections between Inari and the workings of Buddhist teachings, but many authors put a
lot of effort into limiting or directing the course of our imaginations. The greater authority and
legitimacy behind a given religious narrative, the less actual freedom to choose their repertoire
an individual can be expected to have. As we analyze the stories of gods and cults with this in
mind, we see the contemporary concerns and discourses posited in the relationships between
different gods and other elements of the religious repertoire.
These concepts and methods of analysis are brought to bear on the study of the Inari cult
so as to trace the actions and activities of the people involved and their relationships to ideas. In
other words, this work is intended to bring to the fore the agency of humans and how it is active
in the world, most especially in those areas of life that concern the divine. The nature and
expanse of the Inari cult continually changes and diversifies according to the needs and
expectations of people over time in accordance with this reality. I would contend that the identity
of a kami such as Inari acts as a confluence in this way. It is insufficient to say that a cult exists
on the basis of a deity or book or artifact at its center alone, but the varied associations that
human agents imagine in the process of identifying the deity allow the confluence to exist.
Through this mode of thinking we can better understand how the religious traditions of Japan
relied upon kami as mediators.

24

The World of Inari
As noted at the beginning, this dissertation will primarily be concerned with the cult of
Inari and its primary shrine, the Fushimi Great Shrine. The shrine is so-called today because it is
located in the Fushimi ward of Kyoto. This ward is in the southeastern part of the modern city.
For most of the time period discussed below, the shrine was well outside the boundaries of the
city proper. Mount Inari is part of the Eastern Mountain Range (東⼭ Higashiyama) that
stretches along the eastern border of the city. The mountain is measured at 233 meters in height
and has three peaks, a common characteristic for mountains designated as sacred in Japan.
40

Today, the shrine, sub-shrines, and their vermillion torii gates sprawl across the western face of
the mountain and atop its peaks. The shrine’s origins officially date back to the eighth century.
Archaeological evidence suggests there had been activity on the mountain long before this.
41

Pottery, mirrors, and other items have been excavated from burial mounds on the mountain.
While it is possible that the Inari shrine was established in relation to these past activities, no
evidence to confirm this has been found, so it is merely a matter of speculation. Early documents
indicate that three shrines for Inari were established, one on each of the three main peaks of the
mountain, and that this was the beginning of the Inari shrine complex. Over the years, which of
these shrines was the most important seems to have varied, or at least different authors preferred
different shrines. They were known as the Upper, Middle, and Lower Shrines based upon their
peak’s relative position on the mountain. At least two more significant shrines were constructed
by the twelfth century. All five of these shrines frequently received pilgrims from all strata of
society. By the fourteenth century, it is certain that temples and further sub-shrines were built to

40
This is for instance the case with Mt. Miwa, the subject of Andreeva’s Assembling Shinto.
41
Kuze Yasuhiro, “Inarisha to sono shūhen no kōkogakuteki chiken,” Ake 39 (1996): 20-36.
25

grow the facilities of what was then a busy shrine-temple complex, although the expansion
process likely began much earlier. At the end of the fifteenth century, following the entire
complex being lost to fire, a new main shrine was erected at the base of the mountain so that all
of the primary identities of the Inari kami could be venerated at the same location, and so as to
simplify any pilgrimage by eliminating the need to climb the mountain.
It has been common to identify Inari as an agrarian deity: a rice and grains kami that
lived in the fields when the crops were growing and would then return to the mountain dwelling
after the harvest.
42
This is true especially for conceptions of Inari at the Fushimi shrine in Kyoto.
However, across Japan, Inari might be identified as a god with different domains: a water deity
in the city of Kusatsu of modern-day Shiga province or a fire deity at the Ōji Inari shrine of
Tokyo.
43
We will later see that the Inari kami was likely also associated with love and fertility
rites in the medieval period. The deity certainly is today. Importantly, by at least the Edo period,
Inari is thought of as a kami of monetary wealth and fortune by many. This identity has brought
the patronage of many companies in Japan, which might establish shines in or near their business
premises and sponsor the construction of new torii gates to cover the paths of Mount Inari. The
kami’s possible domains do not end there and, as is true in the case of many gods, people will
rely on Inari for whatever they need. In this regard Karen Smyers once suggested that everyone
had their own “personal Inari” for whom they worship.
44

42
This has long been a common way to conceive of the relationship between kami, seasons, and
space, with some scholars arguing this as the origin for most local kami in Japan. See Yanagita, 94-100.
43
These examples come from Gorai’s typology of Inari deities, Inari shinkō no kenkyū, 57-65. See
my discussion of Gorai above.
44
In her study of Inari, Karen Smyers comes to the conclusion that while utilizing similar
vocabularies, each individual has their own personal view of the identity of Inari and their relationship
with the kami. Smyers primarily studied the Inari cult in the modern period and so much of what follows
in the dissertation does not intersect with her study and conclusions. Karen Smyers, The Fox and the
Jewel: Shared and Private Meanings in Contemporary Japanese Inari Worship (Honolulu: University of
Hawai’i Press, 1998).
26

It has often been said that there is power in the knowledge of a name or being certain of a
thing’s name. Names will become an issue throughout much of this dissertation as Inari has been
called by many different appellations and titles. The official website for the Fushimi Inari shrine,
in both English and Japanese, states that the deity enshrined in the Lower Shrine is a form of Uka
no mitama.
45
Uka no mitama is a grain deity from Japan’s earliest written myths, said to have
been born from the creation deities Izanagi and Izanami when they were hungry.
46
Additionally,
the Upper Shrine’s deity is said to be a form of the equally historic Ōmiya no me Ōkami and the
Middle Shrine’s deity is in the same way called a manifestation of Satahiko no Ōkami. As will
be discussed later, it is not clear when these names were first associated with Inari. This is an
aspect of the kami of Japan that can take some getting used to. Inari is effectively a composite
deity or an amalgam, with all three of these enshrined kami being considered primary
components of the Inari deity.
47
In fact, in the twelfth century two more kami were added to
Inari’s identity. Today these are known as the Tanaka and Shi no Ōkami, and they complete the
group of five kami in the new main shrine at the foot of the mountain. They each still have their
own separate shrines on the mountain and the original three are also enshrined as part of other
composite kami throughout Japan, although Inari is the only to have this particular combination.
Through their enshrinement on the mountain, Inari is understood to borrow the history and
powers of these other kami, but Inari is also understood to be its own separate and self-contained
deity. Inari, again like several Japanese kami, is simultaneously one deity and several. Because
of this, and because Inari is sometimes depicted as male and sometimes depicted as female, I will

45
http://inari.jp/en/saijin/ for English, http://inari.jp/about/saijin/ for Japanese.
46
This is according to the Nihon shoki. According to the Kojiki, she is instead the daughter of
Kamu Ōichihime and Susanoo.
47
In the 10
th
century’s Engishiki, we see this is the case for several shrines like Matsuno’o with
two kami, Hirano with four, or Ume no miya with four.
27

primarily use gender neutral, plural pronouns to refer to the kami. This seems the most
appropriate way to recognize Inari’s multifaceted nature.
The connections between all of these kami were surely made to bring Inari firmly into the
same mythological world as Amaterasu, the sun goddess and imperial ancestor, and thereby align
the cult with the same worldview that serves as a basis for the modern Shintō traditions. Yet,
while the majority of kami shrines and priest institutions in Japan are today under the oversight
of the Jinja Honchō, the “Association of Shinto Shrines” centered around the Ise Grand Shrine,
the Fushimi Inari Shrine and its branch shrines stand apart from this group.
48
The Inari shrines
apparently have enough financial support to exist and operate on their own while still
maintaining broad popularity.
In terms of procuring funds today, the Inari shrine offers many services to its patrons.
One might go to the shrine to seek divine assistance in endeavors related to having children,
ensuring the wellbeing of those children, recovering from an illness, success in entrance exams,
success in business matters, safety in travelling across the sea, and other such things. Anyone
could come to the shrine to pray for these things, but people can also request special rites that
cost anything from thirty to a thousand dollars.
49
Those who want to dedicate something directly
to the upkeep of the shrine are able to offer funds for one of the shrine’s iconic vermillion torii
gates. The gates are painted this shade of red-orange for its supposed efficacy in warding off

48
Most shrines entered the Association in 1946, after it was established following the surrender of
Japan and the dismantlement of State Shintō. The Fushimi Inari Shrine instead became its own, legally
recognized, religious organization (宗教法⼈). http://inari.jp/office/. There are a small number of other
shrines that did not join the Association.
49
http://inari.jp/grace/gokito/
28

natural corrosion and supernatural
evils.
50
A full size one costs
approximately fourteen thousand
dollars.
51
These are most often
paid for by businesses. Smaller
torii can be prepared for less
money. Inari shrines and worship
groups from across the country
have established small stone altars all around the mountain and visitors from these branch shrines
frequently present the smaller gates to their altars on the mountain (Figure 4). The altars stand as
concrete proof of the link between Fushimi Inari and the other Inari in Japan. As you climb the
mountain you will find these altars at most of the landings. There is signage at each of these
spots to help pilgrims find their home shrine’s altar. The shrine additionally relies upon
fundraising through special events, such as the 1300-year anniversary that was celebrated in
2011, during which these branch shrines and companies alike provide donations.
When I speak with people in Japan about my research into the Inari kami, the deity’s
relationship to foxes invariably enters the conversation. Most Inari shrines have a statue or two
of a fox. Large shrines might have hundreds. Sometimes they are made from wood, sometimes
from stone. They are usually set at the entrance or front of the shrine and appear as if guardians.
The foxes are most often described as messengers or servants of Inari. Other major shrines have

50
In fact, the vermillion paint was often formed by a mixture that included mercury, which was a
natural preservative for wood. This paint was used on many shrines. Ueda Masaaki, “Inari kami wa doko
kara kitaka: nihonteki deari kokusaiteki demodearu genshi no sugata” in Nakamura Akira, eds., Inari
Ōkami: O Inari san no kigen to shinkō no subete, Ichi kara shiritai nihon no kami 2 (Tokyo: Ebisu-Kōsho
Publication, 2009), 30-34.
51
http://inari.jp/gotinza1300/index.html
Figure 4: Stone altars of branch shrines, piled high with dedicatory
miniature torii. Photo by author. 2014
29

their own divine animal assistants,
such as the monkeys of Mount
Hiei or the deer of the Kasuga
Great Shrine. Inari’s foxes are
traditionally depicted as white, a
color reserved for powerful and
(usually) auspicious animals.
52

Certainly, while many foxes in
premodern Japanese literature
were mischievous and caused problems, stories abound with Inari foxes displaying divine
efficacy and bestowing blessings. The Inari shrine states that these are foxes that our eyes usually
cannot see. The website also simply states, “of course the Inari kami is not a fox.”
53
Yet, this sort
of statement is hardly necessary unless many people have assumed that Inari is in fact a fox. In
the following chapters, the characteristics of this relationship will be explored further.
Some or most of these traditions would come to mind at the mention of Inari Ōkami
today. Defining a cult and attempting to specify its perimeter of activity is an uncertain task. It
could be argued that all of these things are relevant to this study because they are associated with
Inari kami, however that position is problematized by the reality that the kami is an uncertain
figure. This is obvious with the recognition that it is not even clear that the Inari of the Fushimi
Inari Shrine is precisely the same as that of the Toyokawa Shrine in Aichi or the Saijō Inari

52
The many traditions and myths about foxes are far too numerous to recount here. See, Michael
Bathgate, The Fox’s Craft in Japanese Religion and Folklore: Shapeshifters, Transformations, and
Duplicities (New York: Routledge, 2003) and Xiaofei Kang, The Cult of the Fox: Power, Gender, and
Popular Religion in Late Imperial and Modern China (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006).
53
http://inari.jp/about/faq/. 勿論「稲荷⼤神様」はきつねではありません.
Figure 5: Fox statue at tower gate of Inari shrine. Photo by author.
2014.
30

Shrine. Nor is it clear how the kami relates to those enshrined in business headquarters. Of
course, if each person has their own “personal” Inari as suggested by Smyers, then the existence
of the kami would become even cloudier. Instead of dwelling on rigid and closed boundaries for
the Inari cults, we must persist with the language of confluences and repertoires. These
aforementioned elements have become associated with the Inari cult over an extended time and
the exact reasons and human machinations for their connections have often been lost to the past.
That will be true in some cases throughout the rest of the dissertation as well. Still, we will see
that in specific times and places, people have used Inari’s associations with such elements to
change the religious landscape of Japan.

Structure of the Dissertation
The dissertation is organized around different themes for the study of the Inari cult. Each
of the chapters that follow are intended to add new layers to the description of the kami and the
activities of its proponents throughout the premodern period. When all of these chapters are
combined, the resulting whole will provide an image of the kami cult that is much fuller than
what would result from focusing on a single theme related to Inari. I will examine the Inari
shrine in relation to other institutions, the kami as depicted within vernacular literature, Inari’s
relations with Buddhist doctrine and discourses, festival practices for the god, and other similar
topics. To appropriately and effectively address the concerns of these different themes, I must
bring in different methodological lenses that provide compelling analysis of the evidence that I
have gathered, and so the presentation of ideas will vary some from chapter to chapter based
upon the primary academic discipline involved. Each chapter can in this sense stand on its own.
However, ideas and concerns from each chapter will be referenced throughout the dissertation,
31

some episodes even being addressed multiple times but from different perspectives, the continual
recurrence of particular themes acts as a unifying substrate to weave everything together in much
the same way that Inari served as a confluence for a vast religious repertoire. In this way the
dissertation is fundamentally interdisciplinary and intentionally brings together ideas from the
fields of Religion, Literature, and History.
Chapter One provides a brief institutional history of the Inari shrine from its origins in the
eighth century up to the end of the sixteenth century. The chapter relies upon the court histories
of Japan, compiled during the same period, to assess the progression of the shrine’s relationship
with the court, the temple of Tōji, numerous other kami shrines, and several political actors. The
chapter demonstrates that for Inari to become a significant institution in the cultural landscape of
medieval Japan, it was first necessary for the shrine to be integrated into the state-ritual program.
Once that happened and it was designated as one of the Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple
Multiplexes, the Inari shrine was able to connect into new networks of resources and legitimacy,
and in relation to those networks forge new efficacy for the kami. Most importantly, as the
political climate developed to have multiple centers of authority, already being one major
element of the state cult caused the Inari shrine and deity to be subjects of interest for these
competing groups. As a result, the Inari shrine’s success was in part tied to the fortunes of those
groups, but the diversification of institutional ties allowed the shrine to survive even in times of
turbulence. This history creates a fundamental base upon which to situate the rest of the activities
of the Inari cult in other spheres of Japanese society.
Chapter Two examines the continual reimagining of the Inari deity’s identity as found in
several myths of the shrine’s origins compiled in vernacular and ritual texts from the medieval
period. In this chapter I argue for particular ways of understanding the Inari kami’s relationships
32

to Buddhist traditions and the resulting effects that those relationships had on new myths about
the kami. Specifically, I contend that complex projects were carried out by supporters of the Inari
shrine, both those directly affiliated with the shrine and those associated with other institutions,
to create new lives for Inari in the imaginations of medieval Japan. Largely, this was
accomplished by sharing narratives of the god’s activities in this world in relation to other
historical figures, presenting their successes and actions as results of Inari’s efficacy. In the midst
of this reimagining of the kami, Inari becomes an imagined bridge that brings together different
religious concerns and ideas, opening the god up as a potential medium for all kinds of divine
efficacies and social concerns. As a result, these projects created a new mythos for Inari that
allowed the god to effectively share in the discursive authority of some of the same institutions
noted in Chapter One and allowed the cult to present Inari as both a trans-local and
transhistorical deity. This enhanced prominence of Inari greatly reshaped the Japanese religious
landscape, at least from the perspective of the Inari cult. Doing so was necessary to support
Inari’s place within state-ritual, Buddhist, and popular discourses.
Chapters Three and Four are a pair. Chapter Three first analyzes the associations between
Inari and the goddess Dakiniten so as to establish the nature of their relationship. This is
followed by an exploration of the Buddhist ideas about sovereignty as found in medieval
Japanese discourses in a culture suffused with the imagery of heteromorphic sovereignty that
allowed for Inari, Dakiniten, and their associations with foxes to rise to the pinnacle of esoteric
teachings about imperial authority. The prominence of those teachings guaranteed that both
Dakiniten and foxes would be fundamental to Inari’s religious repertoire. Chapter Four turns to a
close examination of the ritual cosmologies built around Dakiniten and Inari within esoteric
enthronement rituals as found in the Kanazawa Archive. I conclude that these cosmologies,
33

while occasionally supposing hierarchies, are primarily about broadening the identity and ritual
domains of deities. Therefore, in these religious networks, horizontal connections were more
important to forge than vertical. This problematizes common conceptions about the honji suijaku
paradigm. Additionally, between these chapters, I posit that the esoteric views of Inari’s
relationship with foxes reinforced popular traditions. Both chapters rely on close analysis of
discourses with doctrinal sources and rituals manuals, supported by ideas prevalent in vernacular
stories.
In Chapter Five I explore the two primary festivals, or matsuri, of Inari: the Hatsuuma
Taisai and the Inarisai. To do so, the chapter examines literary depictions of the festivals in
vernacular short stories and aristocratic diaries, as well as visual depictions found in picture
scrolls. This chapter serves two purposes. First, it allows a suggestion of the Inari cult’s place in
broader religious life, outside of the confines of elite, institutional religious programs. Second, I
contend that the festivals set the foundations for Inari to eventually become a wildly popular god
of city dwellers and people all across Japan, as it does in the early modern period. The Inari cult
does this through reshaping the religious landscape by using the act of ritual processions to
propel the domain of the kami into the city of Kyoto. The festivals both create tangible, vivid
connections with the many social groups of the city while also cementing the importance of the
mountain as the focal point of these new connections.
Through these thematic discussions, the dissertation demonstrates the key aspects of a
kami tradition’s life from the perspective of medieval authors, while also providing new insights
into the interwoven workings of the religious milieu of medieval Japan. Inari here appears as one
deity among many, competing and contending for a particular space while needing to negotiate
with other authorities to maintain their place within that space.
34

CHAPTER ONE: A History of the Inari Shrine
While the Inari shrine is thought to have existed since at least the beginning of the eighth
century of the common era, much of its history has been lost to time. What remains of the
narrative of the Inari shrine’s development, preserved in stories from either the shrine itself or
other sources, is just as much myth as fact. The primary subject for this dissertation is the body
of mythologies and ritual discourses that arose in the medieval period, specifically those from the
thirteenth through fifteenth centuries, that sought to explain the shrine’s history and the nature of
the Inari deity. First though, in this chapter, to attain a tangible sense of how the Inari shrine
grew and developed throughout the premodern period, I will examine the trajectory of the
shrine’s political and social ascendancy as can be traced through references in a close reading of
the court histories of Japan. I will show that through the connections that the shrine cultivated
over time, the Inari kami was institutionally transformed from a tatarigami 祟り神, a kami that
bestows curses (tatari), to a very different sort of god, appropriate for protecting the state. That
transformation was necessary for the Inari kami’s later successes.
As noted in the Introduction, there is archaeological evidence of ritual activity on Mount
Inari prior to the shrine’s recorded history. In particular, there are numerous, but heavily
deteriorated burial tumuli (kofun 古墳) on the mountain and in its vicinity.
54
These could be from
as early as the fourth century. Also, at some time prior to the eighth century, the Hata 秦 family
become the priests in charge of the Inari shrine.
55
The Hata, an immigrant kinship group

54
Ōwa Iwao Hatashi no kenkyū: Nihon no bunka to shinkō ni fukaku kanyoshita torai shūdan no
kenkyū (Tokyo: Yamato shobō, 1993), 290-291.
55
On the various reputations of the Hata family, see Ōwa Iwao, Hatashi no kenkyū; Hattori Yukio,
Shukushinron: Nihon geinōmin shinkō no kenkyū (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 2009); Mizutani Chiaki, Nazo
no Toraijin Hatashi (Tokyo: Bungei Shunjū, 2009); and Como, Weaving and Binding; and George A.
35

originating from the Korean peninsula thought to have brought with them numerous engineering
technologies, were also prominent ritualists in the Japanese archipelago. Agriculture and rice
production were some of the fields to which the family contributed, so their connection to the
rice deity Inari is reasonable.
56
The Hata only arrive in the archipelago in the mid-fifth century,
so at least the earliest burial mounds predate their arrival. As Michael Como has already pointed
out, the Hata family managed to establish a large network of shrines, of which the Inari shrine
was but one, that were closely bound to the court. We will see some evidence of the importance
of this Hata network for Inari below. In any case, with the Hata’s control of the Inari shrine, it is
from quite early on identified as an ancestral shrine of the family. This will be explored further in
Chapter Two. In fact, the Hata maintained control over the priesthood of the shrine through to
the Meiji Period.
57
However, we have few documents about the Hata’s day-to-day running of the
Inari shrine and so a history focusing on the Hata’s involvement with the shrine would provide
only intermittent insights.
58
It is for this reason that I am instead forced to put the court histories
at the center of this chapter.

Keyworth, “Apocryphal Chinese books in the Buddhist canon at Matsuo Shintō shrine,” Studies in
Chinese Religions 2, no. 3 (2016), 281-301.
56
Kuze, 20. The Hata family also had a base of power in the area that is now the Fushimi Ward of
Kyoto. See Mizutani, 14-18.
57
Nakamura Akira, 18. In fact, some members of the Hata family, such as Hata Ōyama Narioki
and Kada Azumamaro, were productive members of Kokugaku schools and helped shape some of the
intellectual trends that led to the Meiji Revolution. This is a topic that begs for further exploration in
English language scholarship. See Kondō Keigo, “Ōyama Tameoki cho Yamato hime no mikoto seiki
sakakiba shō ni tsuite,” Ake 36 (1993): 2-17; and Watanabe Taku, “Ōyama Tameoki Umasake kōki no
seiritsu katei to sono chūshakuhō,” Ake 57 (2014): 2-17.
58
Some early modern texts do describe the Hata’s efforts to prevent the Kada 荷⽥ family (which
may be a non-main branch of the Hata family) from gaining control over the offices of the Inari shrine.
The Kada have some momentary success, but this was always temporary. See Okada Shōji, “Kada kōshiki
ni miru chūsei jingi no shosō,” Ake 40 (1997): 75-86; and Ueda Masaaki, ed., Fushimi Inari Taisha
Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi (Kyoto: Fushimi Inari Taisha, 2011), 168-178.
36

Following Chinese precedent, the “Six National Histories” of Japan were composed
between the years 681 to 901 under order of the emperor so as to officially record the Japanese
court’s history.
59
The last three of these court histories will frequently be cited below: the Shoku
Nihon kōki that was completed in 869, the Nihon Montoku tennō jitsuroku that was compiled in
879, and the Nihon sandai jitsuroku that was finished in 901. These were also followed and
supplemented by a number of other histories, which often enjoyed imperial patronage even if
they were not made specifically under court orders. In particular, I will rely upon the content of
the Ruijū Kokushi, compiled in 892; the Nihon kiryaku and Honchō seiki, completed late in the
Heian period (795-1185); and the Kamakura period’s (1185-1333) Hyakurenshō. These works
record events important to the workings of the court and the life of the emperor, and numerous
other major happenings besides. They are not objective works any more than are the later
mythologies and they are intended to support the legitimacy of the state and its rulers, but there
are useful details to be found here. That is, while these court histories are intended to show the
righteousness of the emperor’s sovereignty, they are assumed to faithfully record such things as
the names of people involved in events, the sorts of resources being mobilized, and—importantly
for this discussion—the shrines relied upon and the rituals performed in which they were
involved. It is the examination of that sort of evidence, concrete and economic, that will drive the
discussion of this chapter. Such details will be further augmented with those found in other
historical documents to be explained below.
The Inari deity and the Inari shrine were common characters in these histories. They were
called upon by the court to protect the state and appeared alongside other well-known kami in a
variety of situations. For instance, Inari was invoked to bring rain in times of drought or to

59
For an introduction to these works, see Sakamoto Tarō, The Six National Histories of Japan,
trans. John S. Brownlee (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1991).
37

defend the emperor in the face of ill omens. Admittedly, Inari was usually a minor character in
these records. This kami appeared as but one member of a prominent collective. Details then
about the shrine in particular are sparse. Yet, the collective of which Inari was a part eventually
was organized into a formal grouping known as the “Twenty-Two Shrines” and many details
about how these shrines were involved with the state can be found in the court histories. Much
can be learned about the Inari shrine based upon its relationship with this group and the ritual,
political, and economic systems that supported it. Rather than attempting to recount an unbroken
history of the Inari shrine, this discussion will focus on the salient points that come to the fore in
the narrative that is preserved and curated in the court histories. The image that results will be a
hazy patchwork, but it will let us see the events that marked the shrine’s story and place in the
medieval world, at least from the view of the court. In this sort of excavation, while the shrine’s
full history will remain uncertain, the importance of the Inari shrine to the early Japanese state
will be made clear. The picture that results will certainly be of a narrow perspective, but it will
set the stage and prepare the background against which to understand the next chapters.

Tatarigami
The earliest appearance of the Inari shrine in the court histories is related to events for the
year 827.
60
The shrine and its kami are the subject of an entry from the Ruiju kokushi, a
supplemental history which was compiled and completed by Sugawara Michizane in 892 by
drawing on content from the Six National Histories of Japan. The Ruiju kokushi reports that on

60
The following story from the Ruiju kokushi is based upon the text as found in Ruiju kokushi, ed.
Kuroita Katsumi (Tokyo: Keizai Zasshisha, 1916), 312-313. For a broader discussion of this story, see
Kure Asao, “Junna tennō no Inari jinja,” Ake 61 (2018): 145-151. Also, see Kondō Yoshihiro 近藤喜博,
“Inari shinkō no rekishiteki tenkai 稲荷信仰の歴史的展開” in Naoe, 96-97.
38

the first day of Tenchō 天⻑ 4, during the reign of Emperor Junna (淳和天皇 786-840, r. 823-
833), the ceremonial New Year’s greeting of the retainers to the emperor needed to be canceled
so that medicine could be provided to the sovereign. By the fifth day of the same month, the
emperor’s condition must not have improved as two groups of forty-nine monks were called
upon at the temples of Saiji and Tōji to perform seventeen days’ worth of ceremonies for the
Yakushi Buddha keka ritual.
61
These two temples were supposed to ritually protect the state and
the capital, and by extension the emperor. However, the rites here likewise must not have been
deemed sufficiently effective, as when on the sixteenth day the emperor was still unable to attend
New Year’s ceremonies, twenty-one court attendants were called upon to carry additional
offerings to the temples. Finally, on the nineteenth, an edict announced that the cause of the
emperor’s discomfort had been divined by an oracle:
Recently, for some time the august body will not recover. According to divination, trees from the
shrine of Inari kami were cut down and a curse of punishment (tsumi tatari 罪祟) stems from
[this]. That is, these trees were used as lumber for the pagoda of the imperial temple by the
previous court. These were cut by Tōji. Now, this has become a curse. Humbly, the court
attendant Junior Seventh Lower rank Ōnakatomi Takeyoshi 雄良 has been dispatched and has
presented the rank of Junior Fifth Lower as an offering [to the kami]. If this truly [accords] with
the will of the kami, swiftly cure the imperial sickness. However, if this is not in accord with the
will of the kami, through the power of protection of a mighty deity, give peace to the august
person.
Through this episode, Inari first came to the attention of the court in the form of a tatarigami.
This story comes in a section of the Ruiju kokushi dedicated to recording when emperors fell ill
(tennō fuyo 天皇不豫) during their reign. The accounts start with the mythical second emperor
named Suizei (綏靖天皇, dates unknown). Many emperors do not appear in the records and

61
薬師悔過 – this is a ritual where monks would repent of past offences before an image of
Yakushi Buddha while reading from the Yakushikyō 薬師経 T 450. This was intended to heal illness
through the discharging of past sins. Yakushi Buddha is often known as the “Medicine Master” Buddha.
39

lengthy descriptions do not start until an entry for Emperor Kanmu (桓武天皇, 736-806, r. 781-
806). Often, the discomforts of the emperors were deemed to be caused by tatari from the kami,
in the text of the Ruiju kokushi or in other similar sources.
62
Inari then joined a long list of kami
whose dangerous nature was a concern for the court. However, usually the offending deity would
be an already well-known kami of established authority and mythology, such as the kami at Ise
or the kami of the Isonokami 石上 shrine. Compared to other such kami, many of whom will
figure in this chapter, Inari’s emergence into official court history then was peculiar in that the
kami’s initial legitimacy comes from an apparently direct attack on a reigning emperor.
It is also appropriate to start with this story because the Inari shrine’s association with the
temple of Tōji will be a frequent topic of discussion throughout the remainder of this
dissertation. Tōji, also known as Kyōōgokokuji 教王護国寺, was one of the temples responsible
for protecting the new capital of Kyoto, alongside the aforementioned Saiji, and would become
the central temple for the Shingon school of Buddhism after its administration was assigned to
the monk Kūkai in 823.
63
Its establishment was both approved and supported by the court. It is
unknown precisely when construction on the temple was begun, however a letter preserved in the
Shōjōshū 性霊集 indicates that work started sometime in the 790s.
64
In fact, this letter was dated

62
For instance, Kanmu found himself the target of a curse from the deities of the Isonokami jingū
石上神宮. See, Ruiju kokushi, 307-310. Cf. Gomi Fumihiko, Chūsei shakai to gendai (Tokyo: Yamakawa
Shuppansha, 2004), 42-49; Como, 111-127; and Hardacre, 87-91.
63
Mikael S. Adolphson, The Gates of Power: Monks, Courtiers, and Warriors in Premodern
Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2000) 44-53; and Heather Blair and Cynthea Bogel,
“Tōji,” DDB.
64
This document simply stated that “four emperors and more than thirty years have passed” but
the work on the temple is not yet finished. The Shōjōshū is a collection of Kūkai’s writings, often in verse
form, that was compiled around 835 by his disciple Shinzei 真済. See Shōjōshū, scroll 9 in Kōbō daishi
40

the twenty-fourth day, eleventh month of Tenchō 3 (826), just a little over a month before the
incident recorded in the Ruiju kokushi. In the document, Kūkai lamented the slow progress of the
temple’s pagoda, but reported that the workers were finally able to attain the lumber necessary
for its construction from a nearby mountain to the east. Kūkai opened the letter by extolling how
good it was for people to assist in the spread of the Buddhist Dharma and that the court’s support
of the construction of Tōji and its pagoda was a major a contribution to this effort. While the
mountain is unspecified here, this source then was very likely Kūkai happily commenting on and
confirming the events that would shortly give Junna such a headache.
While it will become apparent that the Inari shrine’s relationship with Tōji throughout
much of history has been friendly and mutually beneficial, in the Ruiju kokushi the situation
between the two is ambiguous. The contents of the edict can be interpreted to indicate that some
member of the shrine’s administration or a government official that supported the Inari shrine
was unhappy with Tōji taking trees from Mount Inari without permission, and was willing to
contrive to associate the emperor’s illness with the deity’s displeasure so that the shrine would
receive some sort of recompense and the temple some sort of punishment. However, there is no
indication that the Inari shrine sought any sort of censure directly against Tōji or a return of their
trees. It may be that the shrine did not have enough political support to directly move against a
temple that was closely tied to the court and emperor, and therefore had to rely only on
establishing some sort of favor with the emperor themselves. Also, this event came at a time
when the relationship between temples, shrines, and the court was volatile and rapidly
transforming. Any event involving all three would be noteworthy and require careful political
maneuvering for everyone.

Kūkai zenshū, volume 6, ed. Kōbō daishi Kūkai zenshū henshū i’inkai (Tokyo: Chikuma shobō, 1984)
596-599.
41

As part of the Hata family’s network, the Inari shrine was likely tied firmly into the
esoteric Buddhist temple networks of the Shingon and Tendai schools by the ninth century.
65

Certainly, sources from the following centuries will show that Inari was frequently depicted as a
guardian deity of Tōji. However, Kure Asao notes that the powerful figure of Kūkai is
completely absent from the Ruiju kokushi episode and suggests that those who brought the
kami’s anger to the emperor’s attention did so in connection to ongoing conflicts between the
Ministry of Divinities and Buddhist institutions over the role of kami and related rituals.
66
Kure
posits that Kūkai in particular could be a controversial figure in relation to the status of kami.
While the monk is frequently mentioned as one of the original thinkers behind the ideologies of
shinbutsu shūgō, he was also known to dismiss the powers of kami.
67
For instance, later this
same year, on the first day of the eighth month on the occasion of rituals and prayers to the kami
for the purpose of summoning rain, Kūkai wrote a verse that said these gods have no power over
the weather and can do nothing but suffer through it: “There are quiet clouds, but the rain does
not come. The weeks pass. The sun moves. Pray about this to the River God, but the land of the
River God is used up. Pray about this to the Mountain Sprite, but the hair of the Mountain Sprite
is flustered.”
68
Kūkai’s words did not convince the court and one of Inari’s most important roles
in its relationship with the state was precisely to bring rain. Kūkai then might be absent from the
story of the Ruiju kokushi precisely because at the time the court and recorders did not want to
displease the tatarigami.

65
Kūkai’s followers at Tōji also had the Hachiman deity recognized as a guardian of the temple.
Around the same time, Mount Hiei of the Tendai school established close relationships with the gods of
the Matsuno’o and Kamo shrines. See Como, 20.
66
Kure, 146-148.
67
On combinatory religion, see the Introduction.
68
From the “Tenchō kōtei daigokuden nishite hyaku sou wo kussuru amagoi no gammon 天⻑皇
帝⼤極殿にして百僧を屈する雩の願⽂.” Quoted in Kure, 148.
42

At the same time, Fabio Rambelli has argued that when Buddhist temples were able to
appropriate trees from places identified with kami it should be viewed as a mechanism for
symbolically and materially subjugating those kami.
69
By taking the trees from the kami’s
possession and repurposing them as the building blocks of the new Buddhist institutions, this
could evidence a discourse that the kami were content or willing to cede their material property
to the temples. That is, Buddhist supporters could argue that if workers could take the trees from
the lands of the kami and successfully build the temples, the kami must approve of this work and
be willing to contribute to it. It might also be presented as proof that the local gods were
impotent before Buddhism. Certainly, this episode can be viewed as evidence that Kūkai and
Tōji were able to take lumber from Inari’s mountain without any serious consequences on their
end.
On the other hand, the events in the Ruiju kokushi demonstrate the influence of the
Jingikan, or the “Ministry of Divinities.” The name of this appendage of the government has also
been variously translated into English as the “Council of Divinities”, the “Ministry of Kami
Affairs”, and other similar titles. This division of the government was established no later than
the time of the Yōrō ritsuryō 養老律令 administrative codes of 718, although it might have been
in place even earlier.
70
The name of the ministry would more appropriately be translated as the

69
Fabio Rambelli, Buddhist Materiality (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2007), 129-171.
Rambelli’s discussion within this chapter, “The Cultural Imagination of Trees and the Environment,”
convincingly argues that trees and like materials were important resources to be discoursed upon and the
sense of the sacrality of trees in the Japanese imagination may very well stem from Buddhist efforts in
that regard. There is certainly no sense that Inari’s trees in the Ruiju kokushi are considered a
manifestation or body of the deity here. The oracle just indicates that they should have been viewed as the
property of the shrine.
70
Certainly, many of the structures for the Ministry were put in place by the Kiyomihara ryō 浄御
原令 of 689 and the Taihō ritsuryō ⼤宝律令 of 702. For discussions about the adoption of legal codes in
the early Japanese state, see Felicia Gressitt Bock, Engi-Shiki: Procedures of the Engi Era (Tokyo:
Sophia University, 1970), 7-12; George Bailey Sansom, “Early Japanese Law and Administration,”
43

“Ministry of Divinities of Heaven and Earth,” as the term jingi 神祇 originally refers specifically
to those kami that are categorized as being from the Heavens (天神 amatsukami), such as
Amaterasu or Susano’o, or from the Earth (地祇 kunitsukami), such as Ōkuninushi and
Hitokotonushi, based upon their stories in the original myths of the Nihon shoki and the Kojiki.
Eventually, jingi does come to be used simply to refer to all kami and include even those who are
not part of the texts and do not fit cleanly into either of the categories. As it happens, Inari is one
such deity.
The Ministry of Divinities was, theoretically, in charge of rituals related to kami
veneration, the setting of the court calendar in accordance with these rituals, and associated
requirements of purity and abstinence for all participants.
71
Also, because of its direct
involvement with the kami and rituals, the Jingikan was set above the Daijōkan, the “Council of
State,” by the Yōrō codes. However, in practice the Daijōkan made the decisions related to the
state’s policies and often overruled or domineered the decisions of the Jingikan. By all accounts,
from quite early after its inception, the authorities and powers of the Jingikan were already being
eroded. The Nakatomi family, who filled most of the offices in the Jingikan, could not compete
with the political clout of the Fujiwara family, which controlled the Daijōkan, and struggled to
find ways to hold onto what they could.
At the time of the story from Ruiju kokushi, official divinations about the emperor’s
health were only to be carried out by the Jingikan, and the sole control of these rites allowed this

Transactions of Asiatic Society of Japan (1932+1934): 69-109+117-149; and Joan Piggott, The
Emergence of Japanese Kingship (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 135-139.
71
Mori Mizue, “Ancient and Classical Japan: the Dawn of Shinto” in Shinto: A Short History
(London: Routledge, 2003) 38-44.
44

ministry to guarantee its authority at the court.
72
Likewise, when the divination determined that
the tatari causing the emperor’s discomfort stemmed from a kami, this brought the event under
the purview of the Jingikan and the Ōnakatomi family who carried out the imperial rituals
responsible for cancelling tatari. As the first part of the episode involved rituals and prayers at
specifically Buddhist temples, turning the situation into an issue with tatari and kami asserted
that this problem was one for the Jingikan instead of a problem for the Buddhist institutions. This
story may very well be an account of how the Hata, Ōnakatomi, and Jingikan worked to affirm
the relevancy of their kami and rituals for the personal wellbeing of the emperor and state
alongside the rituals of Buddhist temples such as Tōji. Therefore, Inari’s entrance into the sphere
of the imperial court, while it guaranteed an image of the Inari deity as powerful and potentially
dangerous, was quite likely a case of political intrigue wherein the kami was used for its
coincidental nearness to Kūkai’s temple.

Rain Rituals and Integration into the State Cult
For the Inari shrine, the most important result of the above story is that it was awarded
the rank of Junior Fifth Lower 從五位下. Beginning in the Nara period, kami and shrines were
bestowed court ranks by the emperor in much the same way as was done for regular, human
courtiers. A similar practice existed in China since at least the Han dynasty, where Chinese
emperors bestowed court ranks and offices on deities to appease local sentiments and control
growing cults. However, Japan’s system diverged from China’s when new rankings were
developed for the Japanese court in the early eighth century.
73
Ranks for courtiers mark their

72
Kure, 146-151.
73
Additionally, in the Chinese case, a deity’s bureaucratic office was often emphasized more than
their rank. Kami were seldom awarded offices. See Terry F. Kleeman, "Licentious Cults and Bloody
45

relative prestige and standing in the imperial hierarchy. They also bring with them the potential
for greater prerogatives and salaries. Senior First is the highest possible rank. Junior Fifth Lower
is the lowest rank that is appropriate for a person who is able to enter the imperial palace and
enter the presence of the emperor under the ritsuryō law system.
74
Bestowing such a rank to Inari
after having already affected the person of the emperor seems ironic, but it does affirm the
importance of the kami and the court’s recognition of its power. Likewise, this rank integrates
Inari into the official court ritual apparatus. Inari had then become a deity to be called upon for
the needs of the state and was also guaranteed imperial offerings for propitiation. In other words,
when a shrine attained an official rank it gained a higher political standing and a new source of
material income. Albeit a rank of Junior Fifth Lower was not of much significance in the overall
hierarchy and indicates that in 827 Inari was not highly regarded compared to many other kami
affiliated with the court.
Inari was integrated into this system well after it had been established. The first known
shrine to be given a court rank was that of the Kehi no kami 気比神 from the city of Tsuruga,
which was awarded Junior Third in Tenpyō 天平 3 (731). Inari’s award also appears to have
been late if compared to some shrines thought to have been constructed around the same time.
75

For instance, the Matsuno’o shrine, erected around 701 and also associated with the Hata family,
was already ranked Junior Fourth Lower by this time. These shrines that had been awarded ranks
and accorded official positions in the court hierarchy were then combined into the activities of

Victuals: Sacrifice, Reciprocity, and Violence in Traditional China," Asia Major 7, no. 1 (1994): 194-196;
and Vincent Goossaert, “The Heavenly Master, Canonization, and the Daoist Construction of Local
Religion in Late Imperial Jiangnan,” Cahiers d'Extreme-Asie, 20 (2011): 234-235.
74
Later, permission to enter the presence of the emperor would be expanded to include courtiers
of the sixth rank as well.
75
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 110.
46

the Jingikan. This meant that during the annual harvest ceremonies (kinensai or toshigoi 祈年
祭), biannual ceremonies for the welfare of the state and the emperor (tsukinamisai 月次祭), and
the annual prayers of thanksgiving for a new crop (niinamesai 新嘗祭), all held in the capital at
the halls of the Ministry, offerings would be ritually prepared by the Jingikan’s officials and
given over to priests of individual shrines who would then take those offerings back to their
shrines and replicate the ritual of the Jingikan for their particular kami on a smaller scale.
76

Integration into this system meant that the shrines received court patronage and support, while
acknowledging the court as the center and main provider of ritual efficacy for the rites of the
kami.
After being recognized by the court, Inari’s ascent through the ranks was swift. On the
fourth day of the twelfth month of the tenth year of Jōwa 承和 (843), Inari was promoted to
Junior Fifth Upper.
77
On the ninth day of the twelfth month of the following year, the kami
received Junior Fourth Lower.
78
No specific reason was given for these promotions, although
they come alongside advancements or awards for several officials and likely correspond to
simple end of the year rewards. Then, on the seventh day of the twelfth month of 845, Inari is

76
Mori, 42-51, and Hardacre, 31-40.
77
Shoku Nihon kōki, KT, volume 3, 346. The Shoku Nihon kōki, completed in 869, of course
predates the Ruiju kokushi, but the event involving Emperor Junna and Inari’s initial rank is not included
in earlier histories.
78
Shoku Nihon kōki, 355.
47

added to the register of ‘Renowned’ kami, or myōjin 名神.
79
This is an important development
for Inari that signals its role in the state cult for many centuries to come.
While all kami officially recognized by the Jingikan were entitled to receive court
offerings at least four times a year, the participation of the kami and the shrine priests in these
ceremonies was practically anonymous. By the start of the tenth century, 737 kami qualified for
receiving offerings directly from the Jingikan at the time of the kinensai and 304 kami qualified
for the offerings of the tsukinamisai and niinamesai.
80
Indeed, while it was ideal that offerings
would be prepared for each of these kami and that priests from all of the shrines would make
their way to the capital for these rituals, in practice, it is widely thought that even by the start of
the ninth century—by the time Inari would have been counted among these kami—carrying out
these ceremonies to the ideal standards simply required too many resources and therefore
offerings were not actually being prepared for all relevant kami. To whatever extent these
ceremonies were performed, while the imperial ancestral deities at Ise would be singled out in
the initial rituals for preparing the offerings, most kami would not have been specifically
acknowledged and were lost among the large host of other deities.
A myōjin or ‘Renowned’ kami, on the other hand, were those kami identified by the court
as having immense apotropaic power and especial efficacy for protecting the state and emperor
in the face of potential disaster, and therefore, based upon those qualifications, should

79
Shoku Nihon kōki, 365. I am using Helen Hardacre’s translation for the term myōjin 名神 here.
For her brief description of this class of kami, see Hardacre, 40 + 104. This of course is not to be
confused with the term myōjin 明神, which later comes to identify kami with strong Buddhist affiliations.
80
See Engishiki, Volume 1, ed., Torao Toshiya (Tōkyō: Shūeisha, 2000), 22-23 for kinensai entry.
See pages 66-67 for tsukinamisai. For niinamesai, see pages 116-117. Note that for the kinensai, three
thousand one hundred and thirty-two kami are supposed to be propitiated in total, however the majority of
these offerings were organized and distributed by the provinces rather than the Jingikan itself.
48

occasionally be individually and directly propitiated by the court. They were elevated above the
crowd of other kami that had been collected under the umbrella of the state cult. The first known
use of the term was in the Shoku Nihongi for the year Tenpyō 2 (730), and the same text asserts
that an official register of myōjin shrines was established in Kōnin 弘仁 2 (811).
81
Myōjin might
be called upon to control the weather or quell civil unrest during times of great need. Those kami
recognized as myōjin include many of the most famous still today: Kasuga, the Upper and Lower
Kamo deities, Matsuno’o, Sumiyoshi, etc. Of course, these shrines were also associated with
important sacerdotal lineages and families. Getting on to this register probably took significant
political currency of some sort. Also, putting Inari on this list indicated that the court through its
own ritual efficacy had subjugated and could redeploy the power of a kami that had directed
tatari towards the emperor not even twenty years prior. When needed, an emperor would issue
an edict for a member of the court who would travel to the shrines, present a purificatory wand
(nusa 幣), and prayers to the kami using the words of the emperor. The Jingikan would oversee
these rites and assure that they were properly executed. The interactions were much more
personal, and the myōjin came to be viewed as those kami that particularly insured the wellbeing
of the court and people as a unified whole. The myōjin were kami for everyone, not just
individual families or locations. By the publication of the early tenth century’s Engishiki
procedural codes, there were also a large number of these kami—two hundred and eighty-five—
and not all were called on with any degree of frequency, but the Inari shrine was an exceptional
example that did commonly receive direct court veneration in its position as a Renowned

81
“名神” in Kokushi daijiten (Tokyo: Yoshikawa kōbunkan, 1979-97). Accessed via
JapanKnowledge.
49

Kami.
82
The fact that Inari was named a myōjin in 845 demonstrates that the kami and shrine had
sufficient political currency to remain firmly in the court’s attention ever since 827 and that the
court believed the shrine had enough to offer that it would be substantially beneficial to continue
to support Inari.
Subsequently, on the seventh day of the tenth month of the third year of Kashō 嘉祥
(850), Inari was further promoted to Junior Fourth Upper.
83
This came at the same time that other
well-known kami received promotions. For instance, the Hirota kami 廣⽥神 was awarded
Junior Fifth Lower, the Yamato Ōkunitama kami ⼤和⼤國魂神 received Junior Second, and the
Isonokami, Ōmiwa Ōmononushi ⼤神⼤物主, and Kadzuragi Hitokotonushi 葛木⼀⾔主 deities
all were promoted to Senior Third. The promotions for all of these kami were presented as
thanks to the deities for good omens that had appeared across the provinces and that Emperor
Montoku (r. 850-858) described as validation of his recently begun reign. According to the
Montoku tennō jitsuroku, these omens included white turtles that were found in the Settsu and
Bizen provinces and an ambrosia (kanro 甘露) found in the province of Iwami. Such signs
would have been understood as blessings from Heaven, delivered by the kami, that proved
Montoku as a sage or transcendent ruler following Chinese traditions.
After this, the histories show that the Inari shrine really began to work for its rank as it
fulfilled the duties of a myōjin. Inari was frequently called upon to control the rain. On the tenth
day of the seventh month of the second year of Ninju 仁寿 (852), officials were dispatched to the

82
Engishiki, 146-147.
83
Nihon Montoku tennō jitsuroku, KT, volume 3, 466.
50

shrines of Kamo, Matsuno’o, Inari, and Kibune, where they offered a purificatory wand to the
myōjin and prayed for rain.
84
The Montoku jitsuroku reported that a pleasant rain fell on the same
day. Of course, too much rain can be a bad thing, and Inari would be called upon to step in at
such times as well. In Jōgan 貞観 1 (859), on the fourth day of the ninth month, officials went to
the Kamo Mioya and Wakeikazuchi, Matsuno’o, Kibune, Otokuni 乙訓, and Inari shrines to pray
for the cessation of rain during an overly severe rainy season.
85
The compiler of the Sandai
jitsuroku had been reporting heavy downpours and fierce winds since at least the fifth month of
that year. The court had also dispatched an official to make prayers at the Niu Kawakami 丹生川
上 shrine on the ninth day of the eighth month. An examination of the court histories shows that
Inari was specifically named to receive prayers to stop or start rain at least twenty-one times
between 852 and 963.
86
The actual number of times is likely higher as sometimes when the court
decided to call on myōjin it did not specify which ones it would rely upon for assistance. It
should also be noted that these rain rituals were for extraordinary times, either when there was
far too much or far too little, and were therefore performed irregularly.
As for the execution of these rain rituals, the Engishiki specifies that to each enshrined
deity, for the Inari shrine this would be the three deities enshrined at the Upper, Middle, and
Lower peaks, the following list of items should be presented as offerings: “five shaku of silk, one
shaku each of five colors of thin pongee, one skein of silk thread, one moji of floss thread, two

84
Nihon Montoku tennō jitsuroku, 489.
85
Nihon sandai jitsuroku, KST, volume 4, 37.
86
See entries of Montoku jitsuroku: 852/07/10; Sandai jitsuroku: 859/09/04, 867/07/14,
868/05/03, 873/05/20, 873/07/09, 875/06/03, 875/07/02, 877/06/14, 879/05/21, 880/05/16, 883/07/13,
883/05/22, 883/09/02, 886/08/07; Nihon kiryaku: 962/11/06, 963/07/15; Honchō seiki: 939/06/12,
939/07/02, 941/08/13, 942/05/07.
51

ryō of bark cloth, five ryō of hemp, and one-half mat for wrapping [the items].”
87
A tan of cloth
for kneeling and a porter to help transport everything would also be sent to each individual
shrine. In addition, the Niu Kawakami and Kibune shrines should receive one black-haired horse
while the other shrines would receive an extra tan of cloth. These same offerings would be
presented for both rites to stop rain or rites to summon rain, however for the former the horse
should have white hair. Sometimes, the prescribed offerings are judged to be insufficient and
shrines would receive additional offerings. For instance, on the seventh day of the fifth month of
Tengyō 天慶 5 (942), the court decides that to ten shrines, including Inari, one to of fresh white
rice and one to of fresh black rice should be sent to propitiate the deities as prayers for rain are
made.
88
These extra offerings are noted to come from the usual taxes drawn from the shrines’
respective provinces.
These items are taken to the shrine by a representative of the government. That official
would then invoke the deity by presenting a nusa, a wand or short staff with streamers of silk or
paper, that would purify the space for the kami’s presence. Afterwards the offerings would be
made while the official delivered a prayer on behalf of the emperor, acting as the voice for the
emperor’s own words. The Sandai jitsuroku records the following prayer delivered to Inari on
the third day of the fifth month of Jōgan 9 (868), when there had been a long period of rain and
the court wished for it to relent:
Now is the time for the people to till and sow. From this past fourth month, the rainy spell has not
stopped. The farming work has been flooded. Through the firm assistance of the august kami, this
disaster must be stopped. Make this will so…Quickly clear away the falling of rain, such that the
disaster of winds and drought does not arise. So that there is no damage to the five grains,

87
See Engishiki, 142-147. Translation is adapted from Bock, 107-108. A shaku is a unit of
distance equal to approximately 0.3 meters. A ryō is a measurement of length particularly for cloth,
approximately 12 meters in length. The fabric would be about 0.3 meters wide. A moji is four ryō. A tan
is half of a ryō.
88
A “to 斗” is a unit of measurement approximately equal to eighteen liters. Honchō seiki, 100.
52

bequeath fullness to all under Heaven. Defend day and night the jeweled position of the emperor
and court like a strong and everlasting boulder. Bestow protection and good fortune.
89

This is a formulaic prayer to the kami to grant all kinds of blessings to the state. The court
records kept the prayers for different shrines on each occasion, but they all follow very similar
language to this and only substitute the name of the shrine to which they were delivered.
In these rituals, Inari had become a part of a group of myōjin that was frequently called
upon for assistance. Regular members of the group included Inari, Upper and Lower Kamo,
Matsuno’o, Ishiwashimizu, Kibune, Niu Kawakami, Otokuni, Ōmiwa, and Kasuga. This list
overlaps much with the institution of the “Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes” that was
formalized in the late Heian period and, while it is not the same, it must be seen as a precursor.
In particular, Kasuga is not often mentioned for these rites—and Ise appears next to never. This
Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes system will be further considered below. The group of
kami in the ninth and tenth centuries was not consistent. For instance, on the tenth day of the
sixth month of Jōgan 12, only the Kamo and Kibune shrines were sent officials to offer prayers
to stop rain.
90
Then officials were sent only to the Kamo shrines again on the twenty-second day
of the same month. The Engishiki lists eighty-five shrines that might be called upon to deal with
the rain. However, entries in the court histories usually named fewer than a dozen when these
rites were executed. Inari, as noted above, was frequently named, but it was certainly not the
most important of these. That place either belonged to the Kamo shrines, which were always at
the head of the list of named shrines and sometimes called upon alone, or the Niu Kawakami
shrine, where the deity is sometimes referred to as the “Master of Rain (雨師 ushi/ameshi).”

89
Sandai jitsuroku, 216.
90
Sandai jitsuroku, 275.
53

Nonetheless, from the perspective of the state, part of Inari’s identity was clearly that it was a
prominent member of this ritual network.

State Protection and Propitiating the Myōjin
As the court histories go on, the role of Inari and other myōjin diversifies. That is to say,
these deities were called upon to protect the state in more ways. Of course, the Renowned Kami
would be requested to help provide a bountiful crop and good harvest for the land from time to
time. The first time that Inari is included in an irregular harvest prayer ritual is on the twenty-
fifth day of the eighth month of Jōgan 17 (875).
91
This would have been in addition to the
standard harvest rituals of the kinensai and niinamesai. In the Sandai jitsuroku and Nihon
kiryaku, it is recorded that there was an earthquake on the sixteenth day of the month, so these
extra rites may have been in response to potential damage from that event. Besides Inari, the
deities propitiated at this time were the Kamo Mioya and Wakeikazuchi, Matsuno’o, Konoshima
木嶋, Otokuni, Niu—common myōjin shrines—and, unusually, the Ise kami. This sort of extra
harvest prayer was far less common in the court histories than rain rituals, but Inari is called
upon again for another one on the thirteenth day of the eighth month of Tengyō 4 (941).
92

Inari and the other myōjin could be called upon for any perceived direct threat to the state
and emperor. Often the court called on these deities to respond to ill omens found in nature. On
the twenty-third day of the third month of Jōgan 14 (872), officials were dispatched to Inari and
seven other shrines on account of various unnamed strange signs that worried the court.
93
Again,

91
Sandai jitsuroku, 365, and Nihon kiryaku, 470.
92
Honchō seiki, 51-53.
93
Sandai jitsuroku, 305.
54

on the twenty-second day of the ninth month of Nin’na 仁和 1 (885), Inari and nine other shrines
were called upon to protect emperor Kōkō (r. 884-887) who was beset with misfortune and ill
omens.
94
At that time, Inari and the other kami were asked to protect the emperor and court night
and day, to not release disasters of wind and water (fengshui), and to provide a bountiful harvest
and peace for all under Heaven. While not specified, the ill omens in question were likely the
earthquakes that occurred on the thirteenth and fourteenth of the month. In addition, the
surrounding passages, while light in detail, indicate several disagreements among the ministers.
If the ministers were openly arguing, this would be understood to reflect poorly on the rule of the
emperor.
Inari and the others might likewise be called upon to assist following regular natural
disasters. Just as they are today, earthquakes were a frequent worry for Japan in the past. Similar
to the above account, on the ninth day of the third month of the second year of Gangyō 元慶
(878), there was an earthquake and prayers for protection were made at the Inari shrine and other
regular myōjin shrines on the very same day.
95
Usually there would be a few days delay before
the kami would be propitiated following disasters, but the offerings may have already been
prepared as this followed another earthquake that had occurred on the twenty-ninth day of the
previous month and a fire at the Kehi shrine on the twenty-seventh that the Onmyō bureau had
divined was the result of some sort of taboo being transgressed there. Prayers had already been
made at the Ise shrine on the seventh day of the third month. These deities would also be called
upon after a typhoon struck, such as on the seventh day of the ninth month of Eiso 永祚 1 (989),

94
Sandai jitsuroku, 594-595.
95
Sandai jitsuroku, 423.
55

when Inari and five other kami were made offerings by the Jingikan following severe wind
damage to the capital.
96
They might also be needed to fight disease, such as when several kami
are prayed to in rituals to combat a long-lasting plague on the twenty-seventh day of the forth
month of Shōryaku 正暦 5 (994).
97

And, sometimes, these same kami would be requested to defend the state against violence
stemming from the hands of humans. As the Heian period wore on, the court found itself fighting
with more opponents on many fronts. On the fourteenth day of the fifth month of Tengyō 2
(939), rituals were held at Ise, Inari, and other major shrines to quell banditry and violence in
provinces of both the east and west.
98
The compiler of the records and the Council of State
certainly understood this to be a standard response to attacks, and cite similar rituals in Jōhei 5
and Engi 1 as precedence for their ceremonies.
99
They were likewise frequently called upon to
protect against Taira Masakado’s rebellion later in that year and into the next year.
There were particular offerings for when the myōjin kami were invoked for these sorts of
irregular reasons. According to the Engishiki, to each deity at each shrine should be presented
“five shaku of pongee, one mochi of floss silk, one skein of silk thread, one shaku each of five
colors of thin pongee, two ryō of bark-cloth, five ryō of hemp, and twenty straw-mats for
wrapping [these items].”
100
If it was the occasion of a major prayer or ritual, beyond the above,
“five jō and five shaku of pongee should be added, and one tan of ordinary cloth should be
substituted for the one skein of silk thread.” Of course, other offerings might be made if the court

96
Nihon kiryaku, 167.
97
Honchō seiki, 184-185.
98
Honchō seiki, 34.
99
See 936/06/28 in Honchō seiki, page 3, where Inari and others are called upon to handle pirates
in the southern seas, and 900/02/15 in Nihon kiryaku, page 7, where rituals are held to calm violence in
the eastern provinces. Shrines are not specified for the Engi era entry.
100
Engishiki, 146-159. Translation adapted from Bock, 112.
56

deemed it appropriate. Sometimes rice would be offered like the above example from Tengyō 5.
Or, horses would sometimes be dedicated to all shrines instead of just Niu Kawakami and
Kibune.
The officials sent to Inari and the other myōjin shrines with the offerings for these rites
would vary. Sometimes they were members of the Jingikan, such as in the above incident from
the third month in 872 when myōjin were offered prayers to protect the court from strange signs.
At that time, it was the Head of the Jingikan, Junior Fourth Rank Lower, Fujiwara ason
Hiromoto 神祇伯從四位下藤原朝臣廣基 who was sent to the Inari shrine. It is noteworthy here
that the Head of the Jingikan was sent to the Inari shrine on this occasion, because this means
that officials from other departments, including members of the Senior Council, were sent to the
other shrines to fulfil the same role that Hiromoto performed at Inari. Based upon political
connections and ranks, other shrines such as Kasuga were more prestigious, and so the Head of
the Jingikan’s role in these rituals should not be considered the most important. At other times, it
would be a high-ranking official of a different department, such as on the seventeenth day of the
eighth month of Kyūan 久安 3 (1147) when the Empress Dowager’s Household Acting Greater
Secretary-Administrator Tamemoto 皇太后宮權⼤進高階爲基 was sent to the shrine for
additional rites to bolster that year’s harvest.
101

The ritual systems and practices for propitiating these kami did not only involve the
prayers and food or material offerings overseen by the Jingikan. It is well-known that state
protection in premodern Japan was something entrusted to both the kami and the buddhas.
102

101
Honchō seiki, 568-570.
102
On this topic, see Kuroda Toshio, “The Imperial Law and the Buddhist Law,” trans. Jacqueline
I. Stone, Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 23, no. 3/4 (1996): 271–85; Brian O. Ruppert, “Buddhist
57

Sometimes Buddhist rites were carried out directly in connection with kami veneration. At other
times, Buddhist prayers would be offered in parallel to prayers to the kami. Examining the court
histories, it does not appear that the protocol for involving kami with Buddhist rituals or vice
versa was rigidly determined. It certainly was not laid out in the tenth century’s Engishiki with
all of the other guidelines on how to propitiate the kami. Rather these protocols were a
continually developing matter where the court and ritualists experimented to see what worked
and what made sense for their needs.
It was common for Buddhist scriptures to be donated to kami alongside other kinds of
offerings. For instance, when the Head of the Jingikan Fujiwara Hiromoto went to the Inari
shrine in 872 for the above prayers to protect the state, the description in the Sandai jitsuroku
claims that he and the officials at other shrines both presented a purificatory wand and oversaw
readings from the Diamond Sutra. In fact, the strange signs that worried the court had been
divined by the Yin-Yang Bureau, which practiced rituals based heavily on Chinese and Daoist
traditions, so this series of events demonstrates just how thoroughly state protection was
unbound to discrete ritual traditions.
103
Later, in the fifth month of Tengyō 5 (942), when the
myōjin were sent rice in addition to the regular offerings, the Senior Council had also decided
that there should be sutra readings at the shrines and ten monks were sent to each so as to carry
this out. Much later in Ten’ei 天永 2 (1111), Emperor Toba (鳥羽天皇, 1103-1156, r. 1107-
1123) dedicated sutras written with golden ink to eight shrines, one of which was the Inari

Rainmaking in Early Japan: The Dragon King and the Ritual Careers of Esoteric Monks,” History of
Religions 42, no. 2 (November 2002): 143-174; Asuka Sango, The Halo of Golden Light: Imperial
Authority and Buddhist Ritual in Heian Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2015).
103
Here the bureaus of the court were attempting to combat kei, which included unusual weather
phenomena such as excessive rain.
58

shrine.
104
The text was a copy of the Scripture for Humane Kings, although different shrines
received different sutras. Records of such offerings are intermittent and are noted for well under
half of the kami-related rituals from the court records.
The performance of such rituals would not be limited to just the grounds of the kami
shrines. On the fifth day of the fifth month of Engi 12 (912), prayers to end an epidemic were
carried out simultaneously at unnamed myōjin shrines and fifteen unnamed major temples.
105
At
both sets of locations, the Sutra for Humane Kings was read. Or, over a long period of time, such
as during a particularly lengthy drought, rituals may be performed alternatingly between shrines
and temples. This happened in the sixth month of Gangyō 1 (877).
106
Prayers were first
performed at Kibune and Niu on the fourth of the month. Then sutras were read and more
prayers made at unnamed temples around the capital. Afterwards, further rites were performed at
Inari, Iwashimizu, Kamo, Matsuno’o, Konoshima, Otokuni, Ōyasami ⼤依羅, Tarumi 垂水,
Hirota, Ikuta 生⽥, and Nagata ⻑⽥. The buddhas and the kami were expected to work together
in these rituals for the needs of Japan.

Towards the Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes
In the meantime, Inari’s rank had continued to go up. According to the Montoku tennō
jitsuroku, the kami was promoted to Senior Fourth Lower on the eighteenth day of the fourth
month of the first year of Ten’an 天安 (857).
107
Two short years later, in the first year of Jōgan,

104
Fusō ryakki, 307.
105
Nihon kiryaku, 16.
106
Sandai jitsuroku, 406-407.
107
Montoku jitsuroku, 552.
59

on the twenty-seventh day of the first month, they were awarded Senior Fourth Upper.
108
In the
sixteenth year of Jōgan, on the seventh day of the intercalary fourth month, the court bestowed
Junior Third rank to Inari.
109
For this promotion, the words of Emperor Seiwa 清和天皇 (r. 858-
876) have been preserved in the Sandai jitsuroku. He presented to the Inari deity this message in
praise of their service to the court and to ask for their continued support:
In the vicinity of Kyoto, publicly and privately you are greatly revered. Your virtue is great,
although your rank is lowly. Truly, in accordance to the things that you have done, we venerate
you and confer the rank of Junior Third. For this missive, Junior Fifth Rank Lower Ōnakatomi
ason Arimoto ⼤中臣朝臣有本 Vice Minister (taifu ⼤副) of the Jingi[kan] is made the
delivering envoy and to present and read the document of rank. Kami, listen to this. As an
unchanging and firm boulder without movement, bestow protection and good fortune to the
jeweled position of the emperor and the court. As you make all under Heaven peaceful, such that
the disaster of drought and the sorrow of pestilence are not to be heard of, and make the wind and
rain follow the seasons and the five grains rise in abundance, far and wide, we bestow veneration
for this.
While this message to the kami made use of language found in other prayers and was surely
formulaic to an extent, it is the first piece of evidence to suggest that Inari’s popularity and
veneration extended beyond the official rites of the court.
Senior Third came some years later when in the first year of Engi on the fifteenth day of
the ninth month the deity was promoted for an unspecified reason.
110
Then, following from their
perceived assistance with putting down Taira Masakado’s rebellion, many shrines were
promoted on the fourth day of the ninth month of Tengyō 3 (940) and Inari was made Junior
First rank at this time.
111
Today Inari is recognized as having the highest of ranks, Senior First,

108
Sandai jitsuroku, 16-17. Ranks of all two hundred and sixty-seven official kami shrines in the
capital were advanced on this day. Inari was among the major shrines that was specifically named.
109
Sandai jitsuroku, 342, and Nihon kiryaku, 464.
110
Nihon kiryaku, 7.
111
Nihon kiryaku, 40-41. It is not clear when Inari was promoted to Second rank, although the
Nihon kiryaku states they were Senior Second before this promotion. Documents composed by the shrine
in the Edo period claim that the shrine was given Junior Second sometime during the Engi era but admit
the original documentation has been lost. See Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 110-
112, and Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, ed. Takayama Noboru (Kyōto: Fushimi Inari Taisha, 1935), 7-10.
60

but it is not clear when this rank was actually conferred. The Inari jinja jijitsu kōshōki 稲荷神社
事実考証記, from the late eighteenth century, claims that this happened in Tengyō 5 (942) on
the eleventh day of the fourth month.
112
This explanation was produced by shrine officials when
monks from Aizenji 愛染寺 requested information concerning Inari’s rank. In their response, the
officials refer to the Hochō seiki and state that the promotion came when several shrines from the
capital and Yamashiro province were given awards in association with prayers against banditry.
This is certainly possible as the Honchō seiki does report that several shrines were promoted one
rank on this day for that same reason, however specific shrines were not named in the text.
113

Oddly, the Kōshōki goes on to explain that the official document for the rank of Senior First was
not received until the twenty-sixth day of the third month of Enkyū 延久 3 (1071). While there is
a mystery here, there is no question today that the Inari shrine, and all of its many official branch
shrines, hold the rank of Senior First.
As Inari gained rank and prestige, the material holdings of the shrine, and therefore its
economic influence, also increased. According to the Shinshō kyakuchokufushō 新抄格勅符抄,
on the twenty-seventh day of the eighth month of Tengyō 3, fourteen shrines were awarded the
income of households from their respective provinces.
114
The Fusō ryakki 扶桑略記 indicates
that these awards were in relation to rituals carried out for combatting Masakado’s rebellion.
115

112
Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 12-13.
113
Honchō seiki, 90-91. Incidentally, Inari and other myōjin shrines are specifically invoked to
deal with bandits on the fourteenth day of this month. See Honchō seiki, 91-94
114
The Shinshō kyakuchokufushō is a collection of legal decisions compiled probably around the
year 966, although it contains many references to earlier events. This document is reproduced in Inari
jinja shiryō, volume 5, 67-68.
115
Relevant document is reproduced in Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 68.
61

The Inari shrine was awarded the income of ten households from Yamashiro province. This does
not seem like much when compared to the thirty households given to the Ise shrine, but it did put
Inari on the same level as Matsuno’o or Kasuga. This income was also untaxed.
More than the income of households, the territory that a shrine could claim demonstrated
its growth in economic influence over the years. Although records of the Inari shrine’s land
holdings during the medieval period are sketchy at best, there is enough to investigate. It is
known that in 866, the court bestowed fields to several major shrines to help support their ritual
operations.
116
These were shinden 神⽥, land that was privately owned by the shrines and tax-
exempt. The Inari shrine was given a field of three tan 段, or roughly three thousand square
meters. Inari received less than the other six shrines that were given land that day (Matsuno’o,
Kamo Mioya, Kamo Wakeikazuchi, Hirano, and Ōharano, which all received 5 tan of land), but
this would still have been a substantial jump in the shrine’s holdings. By the mid-twelfth century,
the sub-shrines of the mountain were also receiving their own fields. A document dated to the
first year of Hogen 保元 (1157), of the sixteenth day of the fifth month, stated that a field was
dedicated specifically to the Lower Inari shrine and was marked particularly for funding the
shrine’s use of oil.
117
It was common at this time for shrines and temples to possess fields that
were intended to produce funding for very specific purposes such as this.
118
By 1478, the Inari
shrine had possession of at least sixteen fields across Yamashiro’s Kii district and other nearby

116
Sandai jitsuroku, 154, and Nihon kiryaku, 427.
117
Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 103.
118
See Gojima Kunihara, “Inari tabisho no miko ‘sō no ichi,’” Ake 56 (2013): 4-6.
62

townships.
119
At least twice during the Muromachi period, the Ashikaga shogunate confirmed the
Inari shrine’s landholdings throughout the capital and its surroundings without restriction.
120

Likewise, the property in the immediate vicinity of the shrine that it claimed was
extensive. A document in the shrine’s records from the sixteenth day of the ninth month of the
seventh year of Meiō 明應 (1499) claimed that its territory “in the east, stretches to Musashino
valley 武蔵野⾕. In the north, it goes to Bishamon valley 毘沙門⾕. To the south, Taki valley
瀧⾕. To the west, Abura street 油小路.”
121
Although, this source further stated that in fact the
shrine lent some land to the temple of Tōfukuji 東福寺 when it was established in 1236. It
argued that at one point the northern border of the shrine’s lands extended all the way to just
south of the temple of Hosshōji 法性寺. Through the document, the shrine officials were
attempting to reclaim that land, but Tōfukuji disputed the request, and it is doubtful that said land
was ever handed over to the Inari shrine.
As the Heian period receded and the Kamakura period began, one of the most important
markers of an institution’s political and economic authority was its possession of shōen, landed
estates that were usually tax-exempt and untouchable by local authorities.
122
Extant documents
demonstrate that the Inari shrine claimed no fewer than nine shōen in six different provinces by

119
Cf. Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 149.
120
Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 101-102. There is one letter dated Ōei 3 (1396), 22
nd
day of the 3
rd

month and sealed by Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, the 3
rd
shogun. Another letter is dated Kanshō 4 (1463), 12
th

day of 5
th
month and sealed by Ashikaga Yoshimasa, the 8
th
shogun.
121
Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 91.
122
See Elizabeth Sato, “Early Development of the Shoen,” in John W. Hall and Jeffrey Mass, eds.,
Medieval Japan: Essays in Institutional History (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1974), 91-108;
Jeffrey P Mass, The Origins of Japan’s Medieval World: Courtiers, Clerics, Warriors, and Peasants in
the Fourteenth Century (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997); and Adolphson, 57-63 + 134-155.
63

the late fifteenth century.
123
The smallest was not even one hectare, roughly one chō 町, in size,
while the largest was around twenty hectares. The first of Inari’s shōen was awarded on the
twenty-fifth day of the eleventh month of Kyūan 5 (1149) on the occasion of an imperial
procession to the Inari shrine.
124
At the time, two of the shrine’s priests were offered promotions
in rank based on their participation in the event, but they turned these down because they hoped
that one of the shrine’s properties in the province of Mimasaka would be converted to a shōen
instead. Their request was granted. On the other hand, the twenty-hectare shōen was in Kaga
province and called Harimichi shō 針道庄. It was apparently awarded not too long after the
Mimaska one. A decision by the Ashikaga shogunate’s Claims Court in 1334 confirmed
documentation from 1183 and affirmed the Inari shrine’s authority over the land.
125
Of course,
most of the remaining documentation for these estates does not explain much about what the
shrine was doing with the land, but rather indicates that the shrine had a difficult time
maintaining the security of their territory with the increased activity of warrior forces as the
Muromachi period continued. This was a problem experienced by many shrines and temples.
I noted above that during these centuries the group of myōjin invoked to defend the state
was only semi-consistent. Which kami are called upon for what rites was very much up to the
concerns and trends of the time. Nonetheless, it seems to be the case that certain discrete groups
came to be commonly relied upon for specific rituals. An early version of these particular groups
may have already been established by the sixteenth year of Engi (916), when rain summoning

123
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 144. Cf. Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 69-
88. The shōen were found in Mimasaka, Iyo, Bingo, Kaga, Yamashiro, and Mino. Also, multiple in the
capital proper.
124
Honchō seiki, 711.
125
The document of the court’s decision is reproduced in Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza
Sensanbyaku nenshi, 146-147.
64

rituals were performed on the sixth day of the seventh month of that year.
126
For that entry in the
Nihon kiryaku, the compiler stated that “beyond the sixteen shrines, an additional eleven shrines”
received prayers for rain. Neither the sixteen shrines nor the eleven additional shrines were
named, but this does demonstrate that there must have been a standard group of sixteen shrines at
which to perform rain rituals by this time and that they did not need to be named to be specified.
Several years later in Ōwa 應和 3 (963) on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, there was a
similar episode where prayers for rain were made at twenty-eight shrines and several of those
were explicitly labeled as the sixteen shrines: Ise, Iwashimizu, Kamo, Matsuno’o, Hirano, Inari,
Kasuga, Harano, Oomiwa, Isonokami, Yamato, Hirano, Tatsuta, Sumiyoshi, Niu, and Kibune.
127

The twelve additional shrines are Ryūketsu 龍穴, Konoshima, Otokuni, Minushi, Ho no Ikazuchi
火雷, Hiraoka, Onji 恩地, Hirota, Ikuta, Nagata, Ikasuri 座摩, and Tarumi. This is likely the
same two groups as invoked in Engi 16 but with one extra shrine.
However, this does not mean that such a grouping of shrines was reliably called upon
over the years. For instance, a couple of decades after the Engi rain prayers, a smaller group
labeled as “the eight shrines” were used in prayers on the fifteenth day of the eleventh month of
Tengyō 3 (940) for the health of the empress dowager.
128
Or, several centuries later on the
twenty-fifth day of the eighth month of Kennin 建仁 2 (1202), Retired Emperor Go Toba (後鳥
羽上皇 1180-1239, r. 1183-1198) donated horses to ten unnamed shrines.
129
It is unclear whether

126
Nihon kiryaku, 20.
127
Nihon kiryaku, 90.
128
Honchō seiki, 42.
129
Nihon kiryaku, 132.
65

the shrines that the emperor and court directly propitiated were decided based upon the available
resources or the whims of the people in charge—it was probably some combination thereof—but
from the early tenth century it is clear that a small group of a few, elite kami ranging from
around ten to thirty had become the focal point for imperial rituals and state protection.
Certainly, these few kami continually received high ranks and land rewards much in the same
way as Inari.
This grouping was not just about determining which kami had the greatest ritual efficacy.
It was also about politics. As was noted above, Ise was frequently not included in the groups of
deities called upon with Kamo and Inari, particularly if the number of kami was fewer than ten.
Early on, Kasuga was also often conspicuously absent. Of course, Ise and Kasuga are both
primarily recognized as the clan deities of the imperial family and the Fujiwara family,
respectively. These were the families that had monopolized the governance of state. Ise and
Kasuga were often missing from the rituals involving this group of Renowned Kami when they
were called upon for things such as summoning rain or protecting against strange omens across
the provinces, because invoking these early groups of deities served as a bit of political theatre
wherein the two powerful families of the Fujiwara and the imperial family demonstrated that
they had the power and right to arbitrarily utilize the efficacy of mighty kami of other families
across the islands regardless of perceived ancestries and legacy. Using the power of one’s own
ancestral deity is impressive, but taking the power of other families’ deities as well expresses
one’s ability to rule.
While the group remained fluid, eventually the kami and shrines relied upon by the state
for protection in these kinds of cases did coalesce into something more substantial in the late
Heian period. Twenty-two shrines rose above the rest to become the highest echelon of the
66

myōjin kami. According to Yoshida Kanetomo’s mid-sixteenth century Nijūnisha chūshiki 廿⼆
社註式, in the year Chōryaku ⻑暦 3 (1039), the court formalized a group of twenty-two shrines
to be regularly invoked for rituals in defense of the realm.
130
Yoshida claimed that this followed
a collection of sixteen from the year Kōhō 康保 3 (966) and a few other intermediate stages
where one or two shrines were added at a time. This steady chronology of assembly has often
been followed by scholars, although from the above reading of court histories it is clear that the
predecessor to this grouping of sixteen then twenty-two was established much earlier and
remained in flux over the years.
131
In any case, in Kitabatake Chikafusa’s early fourteenth
century Nijūisshaki ⼆十⼀社記, he explained the origins of the twenty-two shrines and that they
could be further divided into three groups of upper, middle, and lower standing.
132
The upper
were Ise, Iwashimizu, Kamo, Matsuno’o, Hirano, Inari, and Kasuga. The middle were Ōmiwa,
Ōyamato, Isonokami, Hirose, Ōharano, Yoshida, and Sumiyoshi. The lower were Hiyoshi,
Hirota, Umenomiya, Gion, Kitano, Niu, and Kibune. Kitabatake explains that the Kamo Mioya
and Wakeikazuchi shrines could be counted separately, and this was how to arrive at a group of
twenty-two.
133
Some, including Yoshida Kanetomo, would include the Tatsuta shrine in the
lower group and get to twenty-two that way. Based upon its inclusion in the earlier, smaller
groups of eight or ten, it is unsurprising that Inari was in the upper selection.

130
Reproduced in Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 42-43.
131
Cf. Grapard, “Institution, Ritual, and Ideology: The Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes
of Heian Japan,” History of Religions 27, no. 3 (February 1988): 249; and Hardacre, 113-115.
132
Kōchū nijūisshaki, ed., Mishima Yasukiyo (Tōkyō: Meisedō shoten, 1943), 41-48.
133
This is in fact an oddity about the way that Kamo is referenced in the court records. While most
of these shrines are actually composite shrines with multiple shrines in their complexes, the Kamo shrines
of Mioya and Wakeikazuchi, or Upper and Lower, are the only ones to be regularly referenced for
separate offerings.
67

Certainly, after the eleventh century, references to prayers being performed at twenty-one
or twenty-two shrines do become more frequent in the court histories. The fact that the shrines
remain unnamed so often indicates that their identity must have been assumed by the compilers.
Of course, as Allan Grapard emphasized, while these institutions were referred to most often as
shrines in the court histories, really these were shrine-temple multiplexes (jingūji 神宮寺).
134

They were places and spaces where kami veneration and Buddhist rites were carried out in
concert, while the administrators of the shrines and temples in these multiplexes worked together
to manage their combined resources. All of these shrine-temple multiplexes were part of what
has been termed the “Gates of Power (kenmon 権門)”, those families and institutions that
through land holdings, political connections, and economic activity greatly affected the
developments of Japan throughout the medieval period.
135

However, the Inari shrine did not have the same sort of straightforward jingūji status that
multiplexes such as Kasuga-Kōfukuji had. At times the Inari shrine must have had a semi-
symbiotic relationship with Tōji. Whatever Inari’s association with the temple on its entrance
into history, the two institutions did develop a clear rapport in the following years. Certainly,
during the time of Kitabatake Chikafusa the two worked together for some rituals, as he recorded
that the portable shrine of Inari regularly went to Tōji as part of the rituals during the Inari
Festival (Inarisai 稲荷祭) of the fourth month.
136
Additionally, much of the extant records of

134
Grapard, “Institution, Ritual, and Ideology: The Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes of
Heian Japan,” History of Religions 27, no. 3 (February 1988): especially 248-253.
135
For the shrines’ position in this system, see for instance Adolphson, 59-60; Grapard,
“Institution, Ritual, and Ideology,” 267-268; and Grapard, Protocol of the Gods, 93-97.
136
Kōchū nijūisshaki, 66. The Inari Festival will be a major point of discussion for Chapter Five.
68

Inari’s shōen actually come from documents preserved by Tōji.
137
Such documents show that the
temple facilitated the administration of Inari’s lands. Tōji was of course a major landholder in its
own right.
138
However, the two institutions would sometimes find themselves in disagreements
over how to handle the income of the lands.
139
Later a branch temple of Tōji called Aizenji was
made the administrative center of the Fushimi Inari shrine in the Edo period.
140
It is also known
that there were at some time Buddhist halls on the mountain and grounds of the Inari shrine. A
map from 1459 shows that the shrine complex included a building specifically labeled “jingūji,”
as well as a hall called Fukukōin 福光院 for Kūkai, an Amitabha shrine, and a building for the
“Ten Meditation Teachers (Jūzenji 十禅師).”
141
It is not clear whether there were such buildings
in the Heian and Kamakura periods, but there was a marked increase in Buddhist temples and
buildings in the immediate vicinity of the mountain from the start of the Heian period.
142
It is
likely that there were some buildings designated for use in Buddhist practices already in the
twelfth century. Buddhist scriptures from the Inari shrine are known to have been copied in the
formation of the Matsuno’o shrine’s canon during that century.
143
These would likely have had
their own storage space. Additionally, an entry from the Hyakurenshō for the fifteenth day of the

137
That is these records are preserved in the Tōji hyakugōmonjo 東寺百合⽂書. I have relied on
versions of these documents as reproduced in Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5.
138
Cf. Tōjimonjo ni miru chūsei shakai. Ed. Tōjimonjo kenkyū kaihen (Tōkyō: Tōkyōdō shuppan,
1999), 148-160.
139
See for instance an exchange from Kanshō 4 (1464) in Inari jinja shiryō, volume 5, 99-100.
140
Gorai Shigeru, eds. Inari shinkō no kenkyū (Okayama: San’yō shinbunsha, 1985), 36; and
Ōmori Keiko, Inari shinkō to shūkyō minzoku (Tokyo: Iwata shoin, 1994), 378. This is outside the
intended discussion of this dissertation, but many scholars understand that it was in large part due to the
efforts of Aizenji that so many Inari shrines were established so quickly in the Edo period. See, Ōmori,
566-588, and Iwanaga Atsuhiko, “Aizenji hakyaku to An’youjimura: Shinbutsu bunri no ichi jirei,” Ake
44 (2001) 229-230.
141
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, image 11.
142
Kuze, 22-23.
143
George Keyworth, “Copying for the Kami: The Manuscript Set of the Buddhist Canon held by
Matsuno’o Shrine,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 44, no. 2 (2017): 166-168.
69

third month of Kenpō 建保 4 (1216) stated that Shichijōin, the mother of Retired Emperor Go
Toba, went into seclusion at the Inari shrine for one hundred days at the same time that the Inner
Palace Minister Sanjō Kinfusa 内⼤臣三条公房 became a Buddhist novice.
144
While all such
buildings were destroyed following the events at the start of the Meiji Period, once upon a time
the Inari shrine must have been a site where Buddhist rituals were frequently practiced.

Imperial Processions and Attention from the Court
After being well established as a part of the state cult, the Inari shrine became a
destination for aristocrats and nobles by the mid-tenth century. The author of the diary known as
the Kagerō nikki, recorded that in 966 she secretly traveled to Inari and asked the kami to
intervene in her troubled marriage.
145
It is possible that people from the lower echelons of society
were travelling to the Inari shrine even before this, but there are of course no records until the
courtiers begin their pilgrimages and describe those trips in their writings. Sometimes aristocrats
traveled to shrines such as Inari in relation to festivals, sometimes for private religious journeys.

146
One of the most famous accounts of an aristocrat’s journey to Mount Inari can be found in Sei
Shōnagon’s Makura no sōshi. Sei Shōnagon (d. c. 1025) traveled to the mountain for one of the

144
Hyakurenshō, 149.
145
Kikuchi Yasuhiko, Kimura Masanori, and Imuta Tsunehisa, Tosa nikki Kagerō nikki (Tōkyō:
Shōgakkan, 1995), 149-150. There is good reason to believe that one of the Inari deity’s primary roles
from quite early in the medieval period was that of some sort of love deity. This will be a point of
discussion later in the dissertation.
146
For more on the practices and habits of pilgrimages by mediaeval aristocrats see Barabara
Ambros, "Liminal Journeys: Pilgrimages of Noblewomen in Mid-Heian Japan," Japanese Journal of
Religious Studies 24, no. 3/4, Pilgrimage in Japan (Fall, 1997): 302.
70

shrine’s major festivals that takes places on the first Horse Day of the second lunar month.
147
Her
climb became the subject for one of her entries on “Enviable Things:”
On the Horse Day of the second lunar month, although I hurriedly [departed] at dawn, when I had
walked only about halfway up the slope, it was already the time of the snake (9am-11am). It
gradually became even hotter and I was truly miserable. When I was resting and wondering amid
flowing tears about why I had decided to go on that day when there are other good days when it is
not so hot, there was the voice of a woman of about forty—who did not have traditional
pilgrimage clothing, but just had her skirts tucked up. She said to someone she met on the path, "I
am going to make this pilgrimage seven times today. I have already gone three times. The
remaining four times will be nothing. It will not even be the time of the ram (1pm-3pm) when I
come back down." [After saying this,] she continued down the hill. Although usually I would not
have paid her any attention, just then I wished that I were her.
148

Here it is clear that, while climbing the mountain could be strenuous, Inari’s shrines had already
become spots of fervent devotion for some.
Of course, for the elite, trips to and patronage of these shrines were an important, public
display of one’s wealth and political power. The first person from the pinnacle of Heian society
to become involved with the Inari shrine in this way was Fujiwara Tokihira (藤原時平, 871-
909). Tokihira in 908, after having secured the authority of the Fujiwara and risen to the zenith
of his career, provided funding to renovate all three shrines on the peaks of mount Inari.
149

As court ritual developed further in the medieval period, the emperor would occasionally
go in person to propitiate major kami at their shrines.
150
These visits were the height of grand

147
This festival will be further explored in Chapter Five. A “Horse Day (uma no hi 午の⽇)”
corresponds to the seventh day of a twelve-day cycle used in Japan’s previous calendar system.
148
Sei Shōnagon, Makura no sōshi, in Iwanami seminā bukkusu Koten kōdoku shirīzu (103),
Watanabe Minoru, ed. (Tōkyō: Iwanami Shoten, 1992), 199-200
149
This is reported in a kanmon 勘⽂ from the Jingikan dated to 949. This document will be a
major point of discussion in the following chapter for what it has to say about the origins of the shrine.
Reproduced in Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: Shinkō shasakuhen (Kyoto: Fushimi Inari taisha shajimusho,
1957), 49-50. Fujiwara Tokihira is of course famous for being the victorious rival of Sugawara
Michizane.
150
Cf. Brian O. Ruppert, “Royal Progresses to Shrines: Cloistered Sovereign, Tennō, and the
Sacred Sites of Early Medieval Japan,” Cahiers d’Extrême-Asie 16 (2006-2007): 183-202.
71

pageantry and public display. The first recorded imperial procession to a shrine was in 942 when
Emperor Suzaku visited the Kamo shrines in thanks following the suppression of Taira
Masakado’s failed rebellion.
151
The Inari shrine also came to enjoy this more direct contact with
the emperor, although it was almost a century and a half later. On the twenty-sixth day of the
third month of Enkyū 延久 4 (1072), Emperor Go Sanjō (後三条天皇, 1032-1073, r. 1068-1073)
made the first official visit of an emperor to the Inari and Gion shrines.
152
Since that time, it was
customary for the emperor to visit the Gion shrine and the Inari shrine on the same day. Over the
next two hundred years, there were at least thirty-eight such visits made by emperor and retired
emperor alike.
153
It also became common place for the emperors to stop at the Inari shrine on the
way back from visits to the Kumano shrine, although this is largely known from entries in the
records that report when this regular stop was prevented on account of some unfortunate
event.
154

Additionally, Inari and the other members of the Twenty-Two Multiplexes would be
invoked to guarantee the success of these journeys. This can be seen in the entry for the sixth day
of the second month for Kyūan 3 (1147), when the Senior Council decided on the dates for the
imperial procession to Kasuga and offerings were made at all of the Twenty-Two Multiplexes.
155

Although usually prayers were just presented to a portion of those shrines, such as on the twenty-
ninth day of the seventh month of Kyūan 5, when in preparation for a visit to Matsuno’o and

151
Hardacre, 124.
152
Fusō ryakki, 311. While the text does not provide any details about the procedure for this, it
does note that this was the first gyōkō 行幸 to these two shrines.
153
See Table 1.
154
See for instance the fourth day of the third month of Kōji 2 (1143), when Dharma Emperor
Toba must return to the capital directly from Kumano and does not go to the Inari shrine on account of the
death of Hou’in Engyō 法印圓行, who was a son of Emperor Shirakawa. Honchō seiki, 423.
155
Honchō seiki, 529.
72

Kitano, officials were only sent to Inari and eight other shrines.
156
Or, on the nineteenth day of
the eleventh month of Kōwa 5 (1103), after the procession to the Kamo shrines was delayed on
account of a Yin-Yang divination that the deity of ways (Ōsōjin 王相神) prevented travel in that
direction, prayers were made at Inari and the other top six shrines to rectify the obstruction.
157

The pageantry of the imperial procession and its success were an important part of displaying the
well-being of the state and the governance, so involving the kami to defend this activity over the
centuries was a common occurrence.
The imperial procession would be a lively event and required several days of preparation.
The Honchō seiki includes a detailed account for Emperor Konoe’s (近衛天皇, 1139-1155, r.
1142-1155) visit to Inari that occurred in the year Kyūan 5.
158
On the twenty-third day of the
tenth month, the Senior Council first met to discuss an imperial visit to Inari and Gion. Then it
was not until the first day of the eleventh month that they agreed on the date. Later, on the
sixteenth day of the same month, officials were sent to make prayers for the success of the
journey at the Ise, Iwashimizu, Kamo Upper and Lower, Matsuno’o, Hirano, Inari, Kasuga,
Ōharano, Gion and Kitano shrines. They also offered a horse to each shrine. Next, on the twenty-
first day, the monks who would read sutras during the events and the officials who would lead
the procession were determined. In this case the lead officials were the Inner Palace Minister
Fujiwara Ienari (藤原家成, 1107-1154), Fujiwara Shigemichi (重通, dates unknown), the
Councilor Fujiwara Norinaga (教⻑, 1109-?), and the Councilor Fujiwara Tsunemune (経宗,

156
Honchō seiki, 677-678.
157
Honchō seiki, 346.
158
Honchō seiki, 702-711.
73

1119-1189). These were also the people who had been leading the council deliberations during
the previous meetings. Finally, on the twenty-fifth, they departed around noon and traveled first
to the Inari shrine where the emperor and ministers examined the shrine’s divine treasures at a
provisional outdoor shrine. There was also a purification ritual (御禊 gokei). Afterwards, there
were archery contests, dancing, and music performed by the various lords and their retinues.
Prizes were awarded to those who performed best. This was also the event noted above where
two priests turned down promotions so as to have an estate established in Mimasaka province.
Once everything was completed at the Inari shrine, they then moved on and did much the same at
the Gion shrine. While not explicitly mentioned in the entry, it is hard to imagine such festivities
would not have attracted a crowd of onlookers.
Some ministers likewise mimicked the emperors and made their own pilgrimages to the
Inari shrine. Fujiwara Yorinaga 藤原頼⻑ (1120-1156), a close confidant of the above Emperor
Konoe, appears to have had a particular appreciation for the deity and made journeys to the
mountain shrine, presenting offerings at least eight times in his later years.
159
He understood the
deity’s divine assistance as having been crucial to successfully marrying his daughter Tashi (多
子, 1140-1201) to Emperor Konoe, and donated everything from purificatory wands to horses to
sutra readings as gifts to the shrine.
The Inari Festival that took place in the fourth month will be one of the main topics of
Chapter Four, so I will not spend much space on it here, but courtiers were also occasionally
participating in this festival by the eleventh century and it came to the attention of the court by

159
See Taiki, Shiryō taikan 1 (Tōkyō: Tetsugaku shoin, 1899). Entries for 1147/06/22;
1148/07/02; 1148/07/11; 1150/02/19; 1150/02/25; 1150/04/26; 1154/04/09; and 1155/04/15.
74

the twelfth century when it began to be noted in the histories.
160
The Honchō seiki stated in the
entry for the sixteenth day of the fourth month of Kōji 2 (1143) that the Inari Festival was on that
day, although it gives no further related information.
161
A similar note appeared in the entry for
the tenth day of the fourth month of Kyūan 3 (1147), although it was recorded that the Dharma
Emperor and the Retired Emperor went to the temple of Ninnaji for a special initiation ceremony
instead. These entries are admittedly rare. While Fujiwara Yorinaga attended the festival and
presented offerings in Kyūan 6 (1150) and Kyūju 1 (1154), he claimed that the court had stopped
making any donations some years earlier.
162
Although the Inari Festival was wildly popular in
Kyoto, it did not fall under the supervision of the Jingikan like the Kamo Festival and other
similar events did. Additionally, because the fourth month of the year included numerous official
court rites, scholars believe that high-ranking courtiers had little opportunity to attend the
festivities at Inari.
163
These matters may have contributed to the festival being rarely mentioned
in court records. Eventually, in Kangi 寛喜 3 (1231), an edict by Emperor Go Horikawa (後堀川
天皇, 1212-1234, r. 1221-1232) declared that the extravagance of the Inari Matsuri, as well as
that of the Hiyoshi and Gion festivals, should be halted on account of how these were wasting
the people’s money.

160
For the earliest courtier record of the Inari matsuri see the entry for the nineteenth day of the
fourth month of Chōkyū ⻑久 1 (1040) in the Shunki 春記 of Fujiwara Shikefusa 藤原重房. Reproduced
in Nakamura Shūya, “Heian kizoku to Inari matsuri,” Ake 39 (1996), 49.
161
Honchō seiki, 426.
162
Taiki, scroll 9, 20; and scroll 11, 118.
163
Nakamura Shūya, 60-61.
75

Turbulent Times and the Reduction of Rites
While the Inari shrine enjoyed frequent interactions with the court and a prominent place
in the state ritual system during the early and middle parts of the medieval period, as well as the
considerable material and political advantages that came with the related patronage, in the late
medieval period, things were much harder for the shrine. Although the twenty-two shrines and
the associated temples remained ideologically important, by the end of the fifteenth century,
offerings by the court to all shrines had ceased.
164
Even from the beginning of that century, state
protection rites and court tribute had been reduced substantially. Emperors Shōkō (称光天皇, r.
1412-1428) and Go Hanazono (御花園天皇, r. 1428-1464) managed to continue the
performance of harvest prayers most years, but the offerings were restricted to only the upper tier
of the twenty-two shrines.
165
Rain rituals and other extraneous rites are nowhere to be seen in the
records. As noted above, the Inari shrine was also struggling to maintain control of its estates
amid the increased activity of regional warlords that came with the political unrest of the
fifteenth century. It is said that Ashikaga Yoshinori ( 足利義教, 1394-1441), the sixth shogun,
provided support for rebuilding the shrine’s Manjusri hall and for moving the lower, middle,
upper, and sub-shrine buildings down from the mountain in 1437 and 1438, but it appears that
overall elite patronage dwindled during this century.
166

Then, during the succession conflicts between the Hosokawa family, Yamana family, and
various factions within the Ashikaga family that are known today as the Ōnin War 応仁の乱, the

164
Hardacre, 212.
165
See, Inari jinja shiryō, volume 9, 13-16, for a list of such occurrences.
166
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 150. This is claimed in shrine documents,
but no independent evidence to this effect remains.
76

Inari shrine met with the worst disaster of its history.
167
On the seventeenth day of the third
month of Ōnin 2 (1468), shortly after the fighting between the Eastern and Western factions had
begun, Mount Inari became the site of a battle. An Eastern Army officer named Honekawa
Dōken 骨皮道賢, a subordinate of Hosokawa Katsumoto 細川勝元, retreated from combat in
the capital proper and took up position on the mountain with a few hundred warriors, hoping to
control access to the eastern side of the capital.
168
Within a couple of days, under combined
Yamana and Hatakeyama leadership, the Western forces attacked Honekawa’s army and
scattered them, killing Honekawa and at least several dozen of his soldiers. In the process, the
shrine and the mountain were set on fire. The Hekizan nichiroku 碧⼭⽇録, the diary of a
fifteenth century Rinzai Zen priest named Taikyoku 太極 who lived in Tōfukuji, reported: “at
the southern gate, the warriors ignited a large fire. In an instant, the shrines of Inariyama were
burnt to ash. Those who watched cried in sorrow. The statue of Manjusri and the image of Kūkai
were nothing but embers.”
169
Sources from Tōji also reported that most of the shrine’s important
buildings were lost to the flames. However, the Tōji shiyōshū 東寺私用集 claimed that people
managed to save the portable shrines of all five sub-shrines, as well as the main objects of
worship from three of those and a divine sword, and deliver all of these to Tōji for
safekeeping.
170
Some small number of documents may also have been transported to the temple,

167
Regarding the Ōnin War, see H. Paul Varley, The Ōnin War: History of Its Origins and
Background (New York: Columbia University Press, 1966).
168
Honekawa Dōken is an otherwise unknown figure, although his identity has become the
interest of a number of scholars. See Kawashima Masao, “Honekawa Dōken no koto,” Ake 41 (1998): 2-
8.
169
Diary entry is reproduced in Kawashima, 3. The exact timeline for when the attack and fire
occurred is unclear. It may have happened as late as the twenty-first.
170
Kawashima, 4.
77

but the majority of whatever library the Inari shrine had was lost and this has been one of the
major hurdles for modern scholarship on the shrine and its cult in the premodern period.
Throughout the rest of the Muromachi period, following this devastation, the fortunes of
the Inari shrine languished.
171
Records from this time are particularly sparse, although it is
known that the shrine families requested assistance from Tōji and other major temples to
facilitate rebuilding. The main sanctuary of the shrine was restored in Meiō 8 (1499) and it is
from that time that the shrine buildings began to take their current form with all of the main five
deities from the sub-shrines brought together in one large hall at the bottom of the mountain.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi also provided some patronage and assisted in further renovations that
occurred in Tenshō 天正 16 (1588). However, the shrine was not able to truly recover until the
Edo period.

Conclusions
After being tied to Emperor Junna’s illness in 827, Inari and their shrine were quickly
pulled into the inner circles of the cult of the state and its ritual protection. This development of a
shrine as an official entity entailed the granting of ranks and integration into the Ministry of
Divinities’ systems. From there the divine efficacy of Inari came to be a tool for the court to
deploy alongside other similarly powerful shrines. In this institution, Inari was part of a group. It
and its ritual efficacy were to be invoked alongside shrines such as Kamo, Matsuno’o, and Niu
Kawakami—not alone. Which is to say, its ritual efficacy alone did not often have a significant
role from the court’s perspective. Together these shrines were to provide good weather, defend
against enemies, and protect the well-being of the imperial body. Inari and the others grew up in

171
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 158-165.
78

this sophisticated and complex, if imperfect and constantly changing, mesh of ritual systems. The
Inari shrine would not be what it is today without those systems. Unfortunately, the apparatuses
by which the state or court supported and utilized shrines, and by which shrines collectively
related to the state, or by which a shrine might have supported itself in premodern Japan have not
been studied in detail in Western scholarship. As a result, how a shrine such as Inari fit in with
the court’s rituals and how these things affected the development of such a shrine and their
identity is often ill-understood.
Entrenched within this group, Inari then found its role and place as one of the select kami
specifically and directly tasked with the ritual protection of the state. There can be no doubt that
from the perspective of the court these shrines were of vital importance to the maintenance and
exercise of its ritual authority. When times and political situations changed, effort and resources
were spent to determine new ways of deploying and supporting the shrines. When rain rituals
began to fade, imperial visits took their place. When the influence of Buddhist rituals and
institutions grew, Buddhist rites supplemented those of the Jingikan. Throughout all the different
sorts of changes made to court ritual, the kami were preserved as the constant intercessors and
supported by emperor and shogunate alike. Even as the Jingikan’s broader influence supposedly
declined in the late twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the elite constellation of deities and the
associated collective ritual efficacy remained strong.
172
As scholarship continues to reconsider
systems of premodern court ritual and the roots of what will come to be known as “Shintō,”
properly analyzing the coalescence of these traditions will require further exploration of how this
grouping was maintained across institutions.

172
On factors behind the decline of the Jingikan, see Hardacre, 109-112 + 207-210. In general,
this decline led to more groups and more people, particularly those of esoteric Buddhist schools, exerting
influence in practices related to the veneration of kami.
79

The above events and rites were all public and Inari would not have been known in the
premodern period separate from the deity’s ties to other institutions such as the court, the
Jingikan, and Tōji. It will then not be a surprise in the following chapters to find that myths about
the Inari deity rely on the relations this kami had with the others of the Twenty-Two shrines to
define the god’s identity. Likewise, many of the (new) origin stories we find for Inari from the
medieval period were clearly intended to justify its role as a state-protector: something that may
have been difficult for a kami that first came onto the public scene as a deity that had cursed
Emperor Junna and beset him with a severe illness. At the same time, there are many stories that
explained the Inari deity’s complicated relationship with Tōji: the temple known both for
stealing Mount Inari’s trees and assisting in the administration of its territory. In the next chapter,
I will explore these mythologies.

80

CHAPTER TWO: The Lives of Inari
This chapter is about the lives of Inari as described in the mythologies of the medieval
period of Japan. We saw in the previous chapter how Inari was concretely and pragmatically
related to the ritual apparatuses of the medieval Japanese state. The National Histories
meticulously recorded the shrines activities in the service to the polity and the different ways in
which the court rewarded, and thereby authorized, those activities. The shrine rose from
anonymity to become a central participant in the Twenty-Two Shrine System that was at the
center of state ritual protection practices. Over the course of that ascent, emperors and nobles
alike endeared themselves to the shrine, giving their wealth and patronage to assure that the Inari
kami’s efficacy was levied for their personal and political wellbeing. Based upon its role in the
state pantheon, the Inari deity must surely have been a dominant figure of the premodern
Japanese religious landscape.
Yet, the story of the Inari kami during this age is certainly not completely captured by its
place in the state ritual systems. The Inari shrine’s rise in religio-political circles was
accompanied by several transformations of its identity. In turn, these transformations were
reflected in the nature of the kami as depicted in the stories told by and about the shrine in the
writings of medieval authors. In some ways, such stories reflected the developments in Inari’s
relationship with the state, but they ultimately exceeded the contours of that relationship.
Considering the extreme changes that affected the shrine and its supporters throughout the
Kamakura and Muromachi periods, it was inevitable that Inari’s story would not be static.
Through the examination of the Inari deity’s mythologies from this time, we will see just how
the kami’s identity transformed in tandem with the new conditions and social standings
surrounding the Inari cult.
81

In short, it is apparent that Inari, while beginning as a clan guardian tied to the
particularities of the Inari Mountain outside of Kyoto, came to be a kami primarily associated
with Buddhist practices and ideologies and a protector of the realm at large. According to those
associations, the kami’s identity itself was infused with new sets of priorities and characteristics
and by necessity the nature of Inari as a kami changed as well. Anna Andreeva has argued
regarding the ‘assemblage’ of Shintō during the medieval period that Buddhist esoteric concepts
were transferred on to the kami domain through the retelling of old myths and the addition of
new myths related to local deities.
173
This was certainly the case with Inari, and the shrine and
deity alike in the medieval period were the subjects of different projects that were undertaken by
institutions and individuals so as to carefully transform or curate the Inari kami’s identity. The
changes in its identity came about in part because of these projects. The authors and compilers of
Inari’s mythologies navigated relationships between multiple kami and Buddhist traditions in
their endeavors to tell their stories about the deity. Negotiating those relationships often required
innovation, and that innovation allowed for mythmakers to reimagine the Inari kami so that it
better fit their needs. Examining the particulars of this complex process should provide us with
greater understanding as to how medieval Japanese authors shaped the religious landscapes
around kami.
The title of this chapter is in part inspired by the work of Richard H. Davis’s book Lives
of Indian Images. Davis shows how images of Indian deities “are repeatedly made and remade
through interactions with humans” and that viewers “[b]ringing with them differing religious
assumptions, political agendas, and economic motivations…may animate the very same objects
as icons of sovereignty, as polytheistic ‘idols,’ as ‘devils,’ as potentially lucrative commodities,

173
Andreeva, 7-8.
82

as objects of sculptural art, or as symbols for a whole range of new meanings never foreseen by
the images’ makers or original worshipers.”
174
The sacred objects in Davis’s reading were
classified and reclassified as people responded to and interpreted images in different moments or
communities. That is, images might have many ‘lives’ according to the many responses of
different communities. With similar concerns in mind, Yamamoto Hiroko once wrote that “in the
medieval period, the kami threw away their ancient clothing and changed their forms. They
assimilated with lofty buddhas and bodhisattvas, and with base wild deities. They took pride in
the possession of multiple personalities.”
175
While being a subject of a very different sort of
ontology than a statue or a painting, I would argue that just as Davis’s images lived many lives, a
kami such as Inari too lived many lives in medieval Japan as a result of a similar dialectic. The
kami lived a different life through each further identification with a bodhisattva or other deity.
This is also what allowed the previously divinely other deities to become so active in the world
of humans.
176
Each new association allowed a kami to take on a new identity, or at least alter an
old one, and that new identity brought with it the possibility inherent in being different from
what was before. The varied mythologies of Inari that authors produced have been their
responses to meeting the figure of that deity in different situations and reconciling that presence
to the needs and particulars of their current circumstances.
I will begin this chapter with a brief review of the variety of primary sources that I
analyze below and the historical trends from within which they were composed. Afterwards, I

174
Richard H. Davis, Lives of Indian Images (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), 6-8.
175
Yamamoto Hiroko, “Shikōshatachi: chūsei shingaku he mukete 至高者たち—中世神学へ向
けて” in Yamaori Tetsuo, eds., Nihon no kami 1: Kami no shigen (Tokyo: Heibonsha, 1995), 291.
176
Cf. Yamaori Tetsuo, “Nihon no kami” in Nihon no kami 1: Kami no shigen (Tokyo:
Heibonsha, 1995), 18-20. There is a common contention that kami in ancient sources were particularly
aloof, in part because they very seldomly appeared physically in the human world.
83

will turn to an analysis of the two oldest known narrative works concerning the origins of the
Inari shrine and deity. These two texts both predate the Kamakura and Muromachi periods, but
there is good reason to assume that authors of those periods would have been familiar with the
contents of these earlier works and that these sources informed most later imaginings of the Inari
kami. Following that, I analyze several later works and their new narratives of the lives of Inari.
My discussion will be focused both upon the changing nature of Inari within these sources and
the changing ways in which authors deployed Inari in their discourses. The chapter will then end
with some concluding remarks on the place of kami within the religious and literary landscape.

Mythmaking and Legitimacy
The Six National Histories and their supplemental works, the primary sources that
provided the backbone to my history of the Inari shrine in the previous chapter, can be
characterized in part by their terseness.
177
Such works provide dates and names and the
occasional catalogue of materials or rites performed. These are all useful details in measuring the
economic and political successes of the shrine, however that paucity of narrative gives little
indication of how Inari lived in the cultural imagination of the people of medieval Japan and how
they may have responded to that imagined entity.
178

177
This certainly does not apply to the first of the National Histories, the Nihon shoki, that does
include lengthy myths about the activities of the kami and early heroes in the founding of Japan.
However, as will be noted below, Inari does not figure in these mythologies at all, and so they are not
directly relevant to this discussion.
178
I am here building upon the concept of ‘cultural imagination’ and ‘imagined communities’ as
derived from the works of Benedict Anderson and Stuart Hall (Anderson 1983 and Hall 1997). Anderson
was particularly interested in the how imagined communities led to emergent nationalism in a modern
period. That topic is not directly relevant to the discussion in this chapter, however the potential of the
process of imagining leading to new connections with others and new communities certainly is.
84

To compliment those National Histories, this chapter turns to the narrative histories and
myths about the Inari kami that have survived from the premodern period to the present. These
myths come from different time periods, often following great political upheaval or other radical
changes in the religious landscape of Japan. The stories also come from across multiple genres,
as determined by either nomenclature of the time or modern scholars of Japanese literature. The
sources then can be chronologically and categorically isolated, and so have often been treated
separately in modern scholarship. However, they do all have something to say about the origins
of the Inari shrine and its deity, and therefore they are appropriately grouped together for the
purposes of this study.
Michael Pye recently wrote that “it should not be overlooked that there is always a
reason why particular kami are enshrined at a particular spot.”
179
This is seemingly true.
However, the plethora of origin stories for any one kami indicates that there was not always
agreement regarding that reason. Furthermore, the sources stand as proof that people across the
ages were fixated with one of the same questions that drive this project: what is the Inari deity
and how did different institutions and groups contend with its identity? Fortunately, many people
had many and varied answers for us to consider. In their answers we can discover much about
the roles and nature of kami for authors from the medieval period.
The origin stories that follow put the Inari deity at the center of networks of people and
places. The stories are about Inari, but Inari is of course not alone in these landscapes. Rather,
these tales are populated by many characters. These figures may come from mythologies both
contemporary to the sources in question or from stories that vastly predate the composition of a
given text. In all cases, the authors that recorded Inari’s myths were composing their texts while

179
Michael Pye, “What is Shinto?” in Michael Pye, eds, Exploring Shinto (Sheffield: Equinox,
2020), 26.
85

working from repertoires of previous motifs and legends in order to build up new stories. This
was done intentionally and encouraged by practices originating from the culture of the imperial
court itself. The primary actors in the phenomena studied below were the authors who chose
what myths of Inari to record and circulate. It was their reactions to the Inari kami that allowed
the deity to live many lives and for those lives to be disseminated to broad audiences. Before
progressing to a study of the sources themselves, it is necessary to understand the contexts within
which the compilers worked and some of the particulars of the practices of mythmaking in
ancient and medieval Japan.
Following the Heian period, there was a sharp rise in the production of narrative histories
concerning temples, shrines, and deities that was in concert with the changing political and
economic landscapes that accompanied both the growth of the shōen estate system and the
proliferation of new schools of Buddhism.
180
While the ability of the Jingikan to provide
sufficient tribute and ritual propitiation of shrines was waning, supporters of many shrines, and
the temples with which they were associated, began to invest more heavily in the art of
mythmaking so as to represent themselves in ways that would appear authoritative, and therefore
attractive, to potential patrons. Of course, major and minor shrines alike entered into this
competition, regardless of their wealth and position at the beginning of the Kamakura period. It
is in fact from within this environment that many of the discourses that serve as the basis for
modern Shintō arose.
181
Participation in this competition for patronage then was likely a
contributing factor to the apparent increase in the production of myths and stories concerning the
Inari deity following the start of the thirteenth century.

180
See Heather Blair and Kawasaki Tsuyoshi, “Introduction,” Japanese Journal of Religious
Studies 42, no. 1 (2015): 6-11, for a discussion of how the shōen system contributed to the production of
engi. See Chapter One for how the Inari shrine was involved in the shōen system.
181
Cf Rambelli.
86

However, for a member of the top rank of the Twenty-Two Shrine System, the
development of a written corpus of Inari mythology appears to have been relatively late. In
contrast, shrines such as Kasuga or Ise, also in the top eight of the shrine system, do have
numerous texts relating the stories of their deities and shrines from the early years of the Heian
period.
182
After an eighth century text, an excerpt from the Yamashiro fūdoki to be discussed
below, the next such source regarding the Inari shrine does not appear until the end of the tenth
century. It is not until the fourteenth century that myths about Inari are recorded in substantial
number. As a consequence, the medieval stories of Inari emerged into a very crowded imaginary,
wherein the discourses of many institutions and religious traditions of Japan were already active
and attempting to claim their place there through the assertion of their particular efficacy.
Therefore, the Inari shrine needed strategies for negotiating with these other mythologies that
would allow it to carve out its own legitimacy.
In particular, the authors of the Inari cult’s mythologies needed to determine how to
manage their stories’ coexistence with the narratives of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki. Together the
Kojiki and Nihon shoki are frequently referred to collectively as the ‘Kiki.’
183
Major clans like the
imperial family, the Nakatomi, and the Wani all traced their ancestry back to kami depicted in
these works. The legitimacy and history of a family was in turn established by the presence of
their clan deity within the Kiki.
184
Negotiating a deity’s relationship with the discourse of the

182
Cf Grapard for examples from the Kasuga Shrine.
183
There are well documented differences in the mythologies of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki, and
there are points in the two text that are irreconcilable. Nevertheless, the two texts are frequently grouped
together as they both treat Amaterasu and the imperial family as the protagonists behind the founding of
the Japanese state, while being comprised of stories that cover relatively the same content.
184
This is not to suggest that there was agreement between the two sources concerning divine
ancestors. In fact, the Kojiki is rather messy regarding these lineages, with some families having the same
ancestor or one family having multiple. The Nihon shoki instead generally tried to align one ancestral
deity with only one family. See Sugano Masao, “Nihon shinwa to Wanishi” in Nihon shinwa to shizoku,
24-28.
87

Kiki is known to have plagued the cults of several kami, such as the Kasuga or Miwa deities,
throughout the premodern period.
185

While today Inari is sometimes said to be another identity for multiple kami from these
works, the Inari deity does not specifically appear in either text.
186
The Kojiki, compiled in 712,
and the Nihon shoki, compiled in 720 and the first of the aforementioned Six National Histories,
were completed by the nascent ritsuryō state in the government’s efforts to centralize and
legitimize its own authority.
187
These texts accomplished this by describing the connections
between the imperial family and the Sun Goddess Amaterasu, including the continuity of this
relationship, all of which acted as grounds to legitimize the emperor’s authority over the other
clans and the land itself.
188
Today, after a resurgence in interest of these myths in the late
medieval period and again in the Edo period, these are the stories that dominate discussions
regarding myths of the gods of Japan and the traditions of Shintō.
It would be difficult to overstate the importance of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki narratives
on the discourses of the incipient Japanese state. Lectures on commentaries concerning the
content of the Kiki were delivered several times to the nobles of the court between 721 and 965.
The modern scholar Isomae Jun’ichi argues that for any comprehension of Japanese mythology,
we must recognize that such lectures were presented to the aristocracy with the intentions of

185
See especially Miyai Yoshio, Ritsuryō kizoku Fujiwara shi no ujigami: Ujidera shinkō to sobyō
saishi (Tokyo: Seikou Shobō, 1978), 45-61. Also, Cf. Grapard and Andreeva.
186
The Fushimi Inari Shrine itself claims today that three of the five kami that comprise Inari’s
composite identity are from the Kiki. It is however not at all clear when this identification actually
happened.
187
Cf. Kōnoshi; David Lurie, Realms of Literacy: Early Japan and the History of Writing
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2011); and Torquil Duthie, Man’yōshū and the Imperial
Imagination in Early Japan (Leiden: Brill, 2014).
188
For some informative Chinese precedents for the importance of sovereigns creating this sort of
discourse, where a ruler gains control of local deities to bolster their own authority over the people, see
examples from the Shanhaijing and Zuozhuan in Michael J Puett, To Become a God: Cosmology,
Sacrifice, and Self-Divinization in Early China (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2002), 97.
88

creating “a unified textual understanding of the Ritsuryō state.”
189
That is, the dissemination of
this discourse was intended to generate an epistemological transformation. The myths did not
only provide knowledge, but they established knowledge. These efforts seem to have worked
well. The two texts and their myths were treated socially and legally as the basis of authority for
the emperor and the entire political state built around them. In fact, in the Heian period, passages
from the Nihon shoki came to be utilized in the determination of judgements in relation to legal
cases regarding official duties or names and titles of families.
190
As a consequence of the
overbearing dominance of the Kiki’s narrative discourse, when authors from clans and shrines
composed new myths in those centuries and later, they generally adopted elements of the Kiki
into their works—or at least this holds true for the sources that had sufficient support to survive
to today.
The ancient Japanese state was in this way active in the production of myths and
propaganda. At the same time, the court offices would ensure that the elite clans contributed to
the effort. This is apparent as the national histories provide evidence that clan histories were
readily accepted by the state as authoritative and legitimate, as long as they were in accord with
the narratives of the Kiki. For instance, the Shoku Nihongi indicates this when it states that the
matter of the history of the imperial court and its workings have been “recorded in detail in the
state histories and familial records.”
191
By referencing both genres here, the text simultaneously
acknowledges the validity of the familial records while also insinuating that they are part of the
same discourse. This is further evidenced by the characteristics of different genres. “Familial
records” refers to kachō 家牒, documents that included a family’s lineage and history, and that

189
Isomae, 18-21.
190
Isomae, 58.
191
Translated in Isomae, 21.
89

were presented at the time any noble was given a new rank. Additionally, the court frequently
ordered clans to submit genealogies and legends of their family for review by the court so that
they could ensure that the clans’ myths matched with the court’s narrative.
192
These “clan
transmissions (ujibumi 氏⽂),” which described a clan’s origins and traditional occupations,
likewise are known to have directly incorporated passages and characters from the Nihon
shoki.
193
Through these practices, the mythology of the Kiki was integrated into the stories of all
major clans, impacting the way their histories were told and understood. Indeed, while the point
of the Kiki was to set the imperial family at the political center of Japan, this only would have
efficacy if the mythology could be successful at holistically shaping the ‘communal memory’ of
the aristocratic class.
194
The early recorders of Inari’s origins participated in this practice by
often emphasizing associations between the shrine and the Hata clan, which figured prominently
in both the Kojiki and the Nihon shoki in relation to their wealth. In that way, the early Inari
shrine had a definite, if tenuous connection with the world of the Kiki.
Even while invoking the elements of Kiki mythologies, being absent from those works
and lacking any direct connection to their authority, shrines such as the Inari shrine occasionally
had need to explain their existence in relation to the rest of the shrines and deities of the land.
The telling and retelling of origin stories were primary ways for such institutions to dictate their
identity and existence. It is likely for this reason that the earliest sources available to us that
relate the origins of the Inari shrine are documents apparently presented on behalf of the shrine to

192
See Suzuki Masanobu, Clans and Genealogy in Ancient Japan (New York: Routledge, 2017),
47-53. Suzuki cites examples from 691, 799, and 807. The 807 example is directly related to the editing
of the Shinsenshōjiroku, which was another concerted effort by the state to standardize the history and
relations of the clans.
193
Suzuki, 203.
194
Cf Isomae, 29.
90

the state for the purposes of confirming its history. As will be noted below, the Inari shrine
originally was located in this landscape by being identified as a clan deity of the Hata family, but
its relation to people and places changes throughout later texts. The oldest story of the Inari
shrine’s beginnings comes from the Yamashiro fūdoki, a gazetteer for the Yamashiro province
compiled at the behest of the central government in 713. The second earliest source is from 949
and is believed to be a document submitted to the Jingikan as evidence to settle a dispute
between the Inari and Kamo shrines.
Unfortunately, there are no other narrative sources regarding the shrine’s and the kami’s
histories extant from before the thirteenth century. The start of this century corresponds to both
the ascendency of the Kamakura shogunate and the proliferation of esoteric, kami-related
traditions. It is not surprising, considering the multiple centuries and changes in the socio-
political situations in between, that there are many discontinuities between the myths of Inari
found before and after the start of the thirteenth century. The texts from this time invariably
include new figures from other myths or legends that have been integrated into the narratives
about Inari. Historical individuals such as Kūkai and different members from the imperial family
were frequent additions. There are several examples of authors manipulating or re-describing
Inari’s identity through the introduction of such characters via pairing them with characteristics
of Inari’s already established repertoire and thereby overlaying new narratives onto earlier stories
of its origins. I will demonstrate below however that there came to be in fact a narrow repertoire
of stories and legends that were continually woven into new discourses so as to expand Inari’s
identity while still maintaining a sense of continuity with earlier ones.
The Kamakura and Muromachi periods saw the rise and fall of many religious schools
and institutions that were invested in deploying Japanese deities in support of their traditions.
91

Many primary sources were produced from amidst this competition between schools. Inari, via
its association with the temple of Tōji, was most often utilized by Shingon Buddhist schools, but
sometimes authors from within Tendai schools would also refence the kami. These schools were
innovative as they explored ways to reconceptualize the history of Japan and its inhabitants that
conveyed their particular understandings of the relevance of Buddhist teachings.
195
Innovation
though did not always mean a break with the past, and the legitimacy granted through
continuities was still prioritized. As Erin Brightwell recently argued, this time was one in which
new factions were finding ways to compose history and thereby introduce their worlds directly
into Japanese literary culture by producing texts that make ‘their voices heard in a way that did
not necessitate a complete break with the old order. Instead, these works feature a series of
negotiations with the past.”
196
The earlier court histories and those documents produced within
the same social sphere were specifically the domain of the court, written by members of the court
to describe and circumscribe court concerns. The stories that make up this chapter will not often
run directly counter to the narratives that arose from these works. Instead, authors would more
often perform discursive negotiations between their worldviews and the mythologies of the Kiki.
In fact, in many ways the myths of Inari would support and strengthen discourses from the
imperial family and related aristocrats. However, the stories did come from new centers of
authority—in most cases the Inari shrine itself or one of a number of Buddhist institutions—and
so their existence and dissemination is proof that these groups were actively attempting to affect

195
Cf. Andreeva, 3-18, and Fabio Rambelli, “Before the First Buddha.”
196
See particularly Erin Brightwell, Reflecting the Past: Place, Language, and Principle in
Japan’s Medieval Mirror Genre (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2020), 87-88. Here Brightwell is
particularly discussing the literature of ‘mirror genre’ works such as Ōkagami, but she is describing a
cultural trend that seems relevant to many forms of literature from the time. Cf. Pierre Francois Souyri,
The World Turned Upside Down: Medieval Japanese Society, Kathe Rothe, trans. (New York: Columbia
University Press, 2001), especially the first half.
92

the recounting of Japan’s history and deities. In other words, such stories provide a variety of
discourses on kami even while directly coming from the upper echelons of Japanese society.
By examining these points of continuity and discontinuity, I investigate the ways in
which representations of the networks of people and institutions connected with the Inari shrine
were changed throughout the medieval period. The changes and reconfigurations necessarily
altered the image of the Inari deity that comes through in the mythologies. Such new images
reflect changing ways in which the compilers and their traditions both conceived of the identity
of Inari and the ways in which they desired others to conceive of the kami. In this way, the
analysis of the multiplicities of Inari’s character provides a means for understanding the various
roles of kami in the imaginary of Japan during the medieval period. The variety of stories and
reimaginings of the Inari kami from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries should be understood
as representative examples of the narratives through which new and old authorities navigated
their relationships within the Japanese religious landscape.
Next, I will describe the two earliest stories about the Inari shrine, the first from the
eighth century and the second from the tenth century, before moving on to later recountings of
Inari. These early tales come out of the birth pangs of the nascent Japanese polity and they
establish Inari’s relationships to those involved in the forging and supporting of the ritsuryō
state. They are presented to provide a sense of how the mythologies of the Inari shrine began and
from where its legends arose. They will provide a baseline for comparison with later sources.

The Yamashiro fūdoki
The earliest origin story we have for the Fushimi Inari shrine comes from the Yamashiro
fūdoki, a compilation of legends about the Yamashiro province. According to the Nihon shoki, in
93

the year 713, Empress Genmei (元明天皇, r. 707-715) ordered the elite of all provinces to
compile reports on their customs and histories. The resulting collections of stories were compiled
together in gazetteers for the provinces called fūdoki (風土記, “Records of Wind and Earth”).
They were assembled between the completions of the Kojiki and Nihon shoki, and harmonized
the histories of many clans by positioning their stories relative to the imperial story. These fūdoki
provide an important example of the early court attempts to curate the communal memory of the
aristocracy. Most of the text for the Yamashiro province’s gazetteer was lost over time, but
excerpts from it were preserved amongst other sources. One of those excerpts records the
following story:
As for the place called Inari, the distant ancestor of Hata Nakatsue 秦中家 imiki and others, the
lord Irogu 伊呂具 Hata planted rice and millet and he consequentially became wealthy. Later,
when he thought to use a rice cake as a target [for archery] it turned into a white bird. It soared
away and landed on a mountain peak. Rice came to grow there (ine nari oi 伊禰奈利生).
197
This
then became the name of the shrine. When that descendant arrived (Nakatsue), they regretted the
mistake of the past. They pulled up the trees of the shrine, planted them in their home, and
performed ritual prayers for the god. Now, when those trees thrive, they have fortune. When the
trees wither, they lack fortune.
198

197
There is an extensive amount of scholarship on what this text may or may not tell us about the
origins of the name ‘Inari.’ In this dissertation I have decided not to engage with that issue, as there is no
clear answer and no benefit to the current discussion
198
This translation is based upon text as presented in Nihon koten bungaku taikei, volume 2,
Fūdoki (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1974) 419-420. Karen Smyers has produced a summary of this text in
Smyers, 15. As this is among the most important of texts related to Inari shinkō, countless scholars have
offered interpretations of it. For some of the most instructive, see Inari, ed. Sakamoto Tarō, vol. 9 of
Shintō taikei, jinja hen (Tokyo: Shintō taikei Hensankai, 1978); Higo Kazuo, introduction to Inari shinkō,
ed. Naoe Hiroji (Tokyo: Yūzankaku shuppan, 1983), 9-11; Araki Hiroyuki, “Inari to mochi to tetsu to,”
Ake 37 (1994): 103-114; and Takebe Satoko, “Inariyama ni matsurareru kami,” Ake 62 (2019): 113-120.
The oldest known quotation of the excerpt comes from Yotsutsuji Yoshinari’s Kakaishō 河海抄 (c.
1367), a commentary on the Genji monogatari. Yotsutsuji explains that the place name of Toribe 鳥部 is
related to the white bird. See also Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 67-79.
94

The idea of a god taking the form of a rice cake (餅 mochi) and then transforming into a bird and
flying away is undoubtedly strange today and seems purely whimsical. However, the wealth of
the Hata family was very real. They are known to have helped finance and organize the move of
the capital to Nagaoka and then Kyoto. This story also suggests the account of the sovereign
Jinmu (神武天皇, legendary first ruler of Japan) being led by the crow, Yatagarasu 八咫烏, in
the Nihon shoki.
199
The Yamashiro fūdoki account, consciously or unconsciously, invokes both
recognition of the Hata family’s good fortune and well-known myths of birds serving as guides
to important figures.
Hata Nakatsue and his ancestor Irogu are unknown besides their appearance in this
story.
200
Besides the Inari shrine, the Hata family were associated with six more of the shrines
from the Twenty-Two Shrine System: Iwashimizu, Kamo, Matsuno'o, Sumiyoshi, Hiyoshi, and
Hirota. Additionally, the clan was involved in the early spread of Buddhism. Kōryūji 広隆寺, the
first Buddhist temple in the Kadono 葛野 district of Yamashiro, was founded in 603 by Hata no
Miyatsuko no Kawakatsu 秦造河勝. From the perspective of the worldview of the fūdoki and
Kiki, the Inari shrine then is one of many ritual institutions related to the Hata family. That

199
Nihon shoki, vol. 1, ed. Kojima Noriyuki et al. (Tokyo: Shōgakkan, 1994), 199-206. It is
common for animals such as birds to guide people in Chinese and Japanese mythology. White crows—as
well as white foxes, which are later identified as the messengers of Inari—are sometimes sent as
messengers by the Queen Mother of the West (⻄王⺟ Xiwangmu). See Suzanne E. Cahill,
Transcendence & Divine Passion: The Queen Mother of the West in Medieval China. (Stanford,
California: Stanford University Press, 1993): 12-43.
200
The wording of the text is ambiguous, but it is generally thought that multiple generations are
supposed to have passed between the ages of Irogu and Nakatsue. Also, the name Irogu indicates the
family had a connection with fishing. See Ueda Masaaki, “Inarisha to Hatashi no katsuyaku,” Ake vol. 40
(1997), 2-14.
95

association brings the Inari shrine into the recognizable sphere of the court’s dominion and of
those who support the court, and therefore the fūdoki’s tale of the Inari shrine seems very much
in accord with the mythological worlds of the Kiki.
201

At the same time, the story does also indicate a definite link between the Inari deity and
agriculture, or perhaps rice more specifically.
202
It may be presumed from the narrative of the
myth that this kami was a vital source of the Hata clan’s fortune and assisted them in the
generation of wealth through the family’s cultivation of grains. Indeed, the Hata are thought to
have had specialized farming techniques from the mainland that they used with great success in
the Japanese islands. The kami’s benevolence was not without limit though and it fled when Hata
Irogu thought to use it for target practice. Its blessings could be recovered though as long as it, or
the trees that act as a proxy, were treated properly. The fox, which is the animal most commonly
associated with Inari is nowhere to be seen in this story, but the fact that the deity takes the form
of a white bird to flee to the mountain does create the possibility for Inari to assume other similar
forms of small animals when they appear to humans. These characteristics all work together to
mark the Inari deity of the fūdoki excerpt as a god associated with nature and wealth, a guardian
of the Hata family, now tied to the Inari Mountain, and generally active in the affairs of humans.
Finally, I want to point out that the status of the trees is the primary sign of the Hata
family receiving the blessing of the Inari deity. Recall from Chapter One that the Inari shrine
came to the attention of the court and was granted its first official ranking in relation to a conflict
with the temple of Tōji when the temple had taken trees from Mount Inari without the shrine’s

201
Additionally, Higo Kazuo argues that the Hata took over the worship practices going on at
Mount Inari from a previous group of people. If Higo is correct, the narrative of this story may also serve
to legitimize the place of the Hata at the Inari shrine. See Higo in Naoe, 5-8.
202
For different interpretations of the kami’s relationship to agriculture, see Gorai, 10-11; Suzuka
Chiyono, “Shōichii Inari Daimyōjin no tanjō: Hatashi no ujigami kara inasaku no kuni-nihon no shugojin
he” in Nakamura Akira, 46-50; and Kuze, 20-36.
96

permission.
203
While Inari is regularly recognized as a god of rice, the kami’s trees are frequently
referenced in stories about the shrine. They will appear in most of the texts examined below.
Other fūdoki also contain passages that indicate that groves of trees were considered equivalent
to shrines.
204
Even if the trees were not sacred in and of themselves, the space and contents of the
grove may well have been. Here possession and protection of the trees were given to the Hata
family and performing rituals for them was apparently a key aspect of their veneration of Inari.
When the shrine objected to the trees being cut down in 827, the ritual importance of the trees
would not likely have been forgotten. I posit that the continual reference to Inari’s trees over the
centuries is a result of their initial importance being preserved in the shrine’s communal memory
and a process of the reimagining and negotiating of that importance in response to new
circumstances for the shrine and its relationship with the temple that impugned on the shrine’s
domain.

The Tenryaku Jingikan kanmon
The next narrative describing the origins and background of the shrine is found in a
kanmon 勘⽂ delivered by the Jingikan in 949 (Tenryaku 天暦 3). A kanmon was an official
opinion presented in regard to some debate or issue at court by those who were considered
specialists in the subject. We know from the court histories that in the intervening two centuries
since the compilation of the Yamashiro fūdoki that Inari’s position in the religious landscape of
Japan had changed radically. Inari had in 940 just been awarded the prestigious rank of Junior

203
See Chapter One, 37-44.
204
Ueda Masaaki, “Kasuga no genzō 春⽇の原像,” in Kasuga myoujin: Ujigami no tenkai, ed.
Ueda Masaaki (Tokyo: Chikuma Shobō, 1987), 10-11. This is certainly not meant to support an animistic
view of kami traditions wherein all trees qua trees are sacred, the only contention here is that the trees of
Mount Inari in particular possessed some sacrality.
97

First and had for some time been one of the select group of shrines that the court most frequently
relied upon in state protection rituals. By 949 it was an institution whose activities and status
were of great interest to the court, and the existence of a kanmon regarding the shrine is not
surprising.
The Tenryaku Jingikan kanmon does not directly reference the Inari shrine’s recent
successes, although it does acknowledge that the court depended on it at ‘extraordinary times.’
While the exact topic of the debate has been lost, the kanmon seems to have been issued by the
Ministry of Divinities in response to some inquires by the throne about the Fushimi Inari shrine
and the Kamo shrines.
205
The document appears to be proof that the legends of the fūdoki had
been integrated firmly into the Inari shrine’s history and been brought as evidence before the
imperial court. The kanmon says the following about the shrine:
As for the origins of the establishment of the shrine in question, there is certainly no proof, the chief
priest and attendants of that shrine reported the following: "That god, in the years of Wadō (和銅
708-715), first appeared and took up position in the flat space between the three peaks of Mount
Inari. Nakatsue and other descendants of the Hata took trees [from there], planted them, and they
thrived.” Consequentially, the people of that Hata family became the head priests and attendants.
They perform the offerings for such things as the spring and autumn ritual festivals. Because of the
god's efficacy, at extraordinary times, it has been given offerings again and again. Therefore, in the
eighth year of Engi (延喜 908), the Prime Minister Fujiwara ason repaired the previously
constructed three shrines to present a gift [to Inari].
206

The Prime Minister that repaired the shrines was Fujiwara Tokihira 藤原時平 (871-909). He is
perhaps best known for being the rival of Sugawara Michizane, the compiler of the Ruiju kokushi
mentioned in the last chapter. It is now widely thought that Tokihira renovated the Inari shrine,
in addition to other shrines, so that the kami might protect him from Michizane’s vengeful

205
See ST, volume 9, 4.
206
Translated from the text as reproduced in ST, volume 9, 4-5 (intro).
98

ghost.
207
The god of this kanmon is indistinct when compared to the fūdoki’s white bird of grains
and riches. Inari is only identified as having vague, miraculous efficacy (霊験有). There is no
direct description of the deity acting in the world. Still, the recognition of that miraculous
efficacy and the mention of the festival rituals has led some scholars to suppose this kanmon is in
part related to an effort by the Jingikan to make sure that the kami’s cult is properly under their
control.
208

This text has much in common with that of the Yamashiro fūdoki. In fact, the specific
mention of Hata Nakatsue and similar language in both texts makes it likely that the kanmon was
written by someone who had read the fūdoki.
209
The kanmon does provide additional information
about when the shrine was established. ‘The years of Wadō (708-715)’ is not an exact date, but it
does bring the shrine’s construction into the near past and place it close to the production of the
fūdoki, as well as the beginning of the Kiki mythological projects. The wording of the fūdoki on
the other hand does not necessarily suggest the shrine was so recently established. Irogu’s
activity and the fleeing of the Inari deity to the mountain were certainly intended to be in the
distant past for gazetteer’s authors. Irogu though apparently did not merit attention from the
authors of the kanmon. Instead, the authors of this second text may have been more concerned

207
See Yamanaka Yutaka, “Inari jinja no rekishi to bungaku,” Ake 40 (1997): 88; and Fushimi
Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 88-90.
208
Kuroda Minoru, “Inari hatsuuma shikō,” Ake 36 (1993): 102.
209
For instance, where the fūdoki says, “They pulled up the trees of the shrine, planted them in
their home…Now, when those trees thrive, they have fortune” the Chinese is 抜社之木殖家…今殖其木
蘇者得福. Where the kanmon says “took trees [from there], planted them, and they thrived” the Chinese
is 抜木殖蘇. While Higo, Sakamoto, and Ōmori—and myself—have high confidence in the legitimacy of
these two texts, the similarities between the documents of course do not exclude someone creating the
fūdoki after the fact, in reference to the language of the kanmon.
99

with providing concrete facts for the shrine and thereby establishing its legitimacy in the eyes of
the Ministry of Divinities.
Notably, this story is not so much about the deity as it is about the shrine itself. Who first
constructed it? Who is to perform rites for it? Who is responsible for its maintenance? The
document appears intended to answer these questions. In the first two cases, it is the Hata who
built the shrine and who are to perform the rituals of Inari. This has not changed since the fūdoki,
and therefore preserves Inari’s role as a protector of the clan. However, now the Fujiwara have
also been tied to the shrine.
Yanagita Kunio once argued that all kami could be understood as belonging to one of two
categories: clan deities (氏神 ujigami) and guardian deities (鎮守 chinju).
210
Clan deities were
those kami particularly associated with a clan and likely recognized as a divine ancestor of that
clan. Guardian deities on the other hand were thought to protect the land itself and the contents,
including the people, of that land. Although, in Yanagita’s paradigm guardian deities were a
newer category of kami and clan deities were the original kami of Japan. Kami were recognized
as guardian deities when the relationships between clans became more complicated, either
through the development of competing branch families or the subjugation of one clan by another,
and veneration of a single kami came to be carried out by multiple clans at one time. A transition
of this sort can be seen in the changes of Inari’s position between the two sources above.
Compared to the fūdoki’s account which only mentions the Hata, the kanmon effectively widens
the sphere of Inari’s efficacy to include others. It also marks the shrine as part of an extended
network which includes the Hata, officials of the Jingikan, and the Fujiwara. It is possible that
the Inari shrine had been established in the Yamashiro province by the Hata clan precisely to

210
Yanagita, 99-128.
100

compete with other families. Miyai Yoshio has argued that when aristocrats took up residence in
a new capital, they were behooved to also ensure they had a clan shrine nearby on which to rely
and through which to exert political influence, and that this ability to move locations was a
distinction between the ujigami of aristocrats and those of others.
211
If that was the case, the
introduction of the Fujiwara into the Inari narrative and Tokihira’s renovations of the shrines
should be viewed as the former clan’s coopting of the Hata’s divine ancestor.
These two texts are brief sources. They were primarily concerned with establishing the
relationship between the legendarily successful Hata and the Inari shrine. They also affirm the
kami’s connection to Mount Inari. The Yamashiro fūdoki also hints at the Fujiwara’s patronage
and thereby the shrine’s friendly relations with the court, albeit only sparingly so.

Medieval Inari Origin Stories
The medieval period brought numerous changes to the shrine institutions for the Japanese
kami. In many cases, including for the Inari shrine, these changes often meant reassessing the
relationships between the central court and other sources of authority.
As noted before, it is not clear how precisely the relationship between the Inari shrine and
the temple of Tōji developed. It is also not clear how Buddhist practices and rituals came to be
near ubiquitous aspects of veneration for the Inari deity. It is only clear that these things came to
pass. What the following sources will show is that the prevalence of Buddhist practices at Mount
Inari allowed a reimagining of the kami, the mountains, and the cult. In fact, negotiating Inari’s
identity in light of its close ties to different Buddhist traditions appears to have been the primary
motivation behind the creation of the sources below. It should also be noted that in 1474,

211
Miyai, 36.
101

following the destruction of the shrine in the Ōnin War, when a monk was in search of
documents on the shrine’s founding to garner support for reconstruction efforts, his first stop was
Tōji where he was given the Inari daimyōjin engi 稲荷⼤明神縁起 to replace the records the
shrine had lost.
212
The Inari shrine in the ensuing years understood its own history on the basis of
that engi, which overlaps considerably with the contents of most of the other sources for the
second half of this chapter.
First, a point of tension needed to be assuaged between the Inari shrine and Tōji: the
aforementioned case of the Inari deity being dissatisfied with the monks of the temple taking
trees from Mount Inari to use as lumber in the temple’s completion. Earlier legends had claimed
that the kami was so angry as to inflict a curse upon Emperor Junna. The two documents above
likewise include notions that the mountain and its trees were the dwelling place of the kami and
the domain of the Hata family. This discourse was presented and accepted as fact to the Jingikan
in the eight and then tenth centuries through these documents. It is also an ostensible factor in the
shrine’s initial reception of rank and recognition by the court. The possession of the mountain
and its trees by the Hata and the Inari shrine appears a primary point of Inari’s narrative in these
early sources. Tōji’s incursion into the mountain would provide a serious point of conflict for the
two institutions in their mutual history. It should not have been easy to forget.
However, the shrine’s history in medieval sources was thoroughly rewritten so as to
avoid this controversy. A new legend is found in many sources from after the start of the
fourteenth century wherein the founding of the shrine and the characters involved were changed
greatly. The Inariki (稲荷記 “The Chronicle of Inari”), a document from 1332, provides a

212
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen (Kyoto: Fushimi Inari taisha shamusho, 1957),
Intro, 24-25.
102

standard and early version of this reimagining of the Inari deity’s taking up residence on the
mountain:
The Daimyōjin met face to face with Kōbō Daishi (Kūkai). In the records of their august
agreement, it says that in the third year of Enryaku [784], a wood-rat year, when the god came to
Japan from China, as they had no residence of their own, they wandered around the Otagi district
of Yamashiro.
213
As it was carrying rice upon its shoulders, the people named the god as the kami
of Inari (稲荷ノ神). In the twenty-second year of the same era [806], a water-goat year, as the
Daimyōjin was returning from Mount Kumano, Kōbō Daishi (in the record book, there is his true
name)
214
was traveling to Kumano. At [the shrine of] the Tanabe prince,
215
he met the Daimyōjin
face to face. The Daimyōjin said, "I went to see the sacred mountain." When [Kōbō Daishi]
approved of this, the Daimyōjin said, "I am a lord of China. However, I have come to this
kingdom so that I might save sentient beings in the Land of the Sun who have no seeds of
blessings. As I wish to be called the ‘Kami of Love of the Dharma 愛法神,’ how should I conduct
myself?" The teacher approved of this divine and subtle aspiration. Afterwards, there were
various promises between them. The details of which are within the documents that have been
passed down…Then, after the teacher had returned, he invited [the Daimyōjin] to Tōji…[the
kami] told their story, and, after a while, the divine manifestation said, "I will stay and dwell here.
Tell me someplace where I could provide benefits for sentient beings." The abbot responded, "To
the southeast, there is the timber mountain [杣⼭ somayama] of this temple. Put down your traces
there and again perform deeds for benefitting living beings.” The abbot then instructed, "Follow
the road from the east gate of Tōji, and it is as I have indicated to you.”
216

This account is not entirely unlike the story of the Yamashiro fūdoki in that it still tells the story
of a roving kami, a mountain with trees of vital significance, and the importance of that kami
taking up residence on the mountain. However, the author of this legend has adeptly altered the
narrative, changed the characters involved, and thereby flipped the power dynamics. The kami
only appeared after Kūkai was already active and constructing Tōji. The mountain is specifically
identified as a “timber mountain,” a mountain from which people take lumber for building. And,

213
Words in [] represent items that I have added for clarification. Those in () represent notes that
the compiler added and are present in the text.
214
Interlinear note. Assumedly this means the record uses the name Kūkai instead. This must refer
to the above-mentioned ‘records of their august agreement 御契約ノ託宣ノ記録.’
215
The shrine of the Tanabe prince ⽥辺王子 refers to one of several auxiliary shrines of
Kumano, brought under the title of the ninety-nine princes of Kumano 熊野九十九王子. Tanabe refers to
a place to the southwest of Kyoto, in the old district of Tuduki 綴喜郡.
216
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 3-4 of Inarki.
103

perhaps most importantly, the deity only takes up its position on Mount Inari because it was
instructed to do so by Kūkai in his capacity as abbot of the temple. This allows an argument by
the institution that the Inari shrine only exists by virtue of a decision by the head of the temple.
The story does not leave any room to suppose that the Inari shrine might be a rival or opponent
of Tōji. Instead, it is clear that the Inari shrine is subordinate to the temple and its myths might
be understood as just another part of the larger Shingon corpus of legends about Kūkai and his
activities.
Similar versions of this story of Kūkai directing the Inari deity to the mountain are found
in numerous works: such as the Inari daimyōjin engi, Kōbō daishi den 弘法⼤師伝 of 1325,
Inari daimyōjin ryūki 稲荷大明神流記 of 1386, Kōbō daishi gyōjōki 弘法⼤師行状記 of the
mid-fourteenth century, the Kujikongen 公事根源 of 1423, Fujimorisha engi 藤森社縁起 of
1511, and the Jinten’ai nōshō 塵添壒嚢鈔 of 1532.
217
Each of these texts include additional
details that expand the narrative. For instance, the Inari daimyōjin engi version of the legend
begins by stating that Inari and Kūkai first met while listening to a sermon of Shakyamuni in
India and that at that time Kūkai stated that he would be reborn into a land in the east and that
Inari should come along and be a guardian for secret teachings.
218

These stories of Inari and Kūkai apparently became so ubiquitous that when Tendai
authors chose to integrate the Inari shrine into their discourses and compete with the Shingon

217
For discussions of the particularities of some of these texts, see: Gorai, 15; Fushimi Inari
Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 95-99; Watanabe Shōgo, “Utagaki to Inarimōde no denzon
shūzoku,” Ake 37 (1994), 46; Yamanaka, Kondō Keigo “Inari to Yamazaki Ansai” Ake 40 (1997), 32;
“Inari jinja no rekishi to bungaku,” Ake 40 (1997): 88; and Nakamura Akira, 81-82.
218
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 51.
104

sect, texts such as the Nijūnisha hon'en ⼆十⼆社本縁 would record a similar legend but include
that first the Inari kami had met with Saichō (最澄 767-822), the founder of the Tendai school,
and then he sent the deity on to Kūkai. It is likely the Tendai School authors sought to coopt the
Kūkai narrative, implement the same discursive technique, and change the story for their own
advantage. In any case, it would seem that the story of Inari meeting with Kūkai had become so
pervasive that Tendai discourses needed to contend with it. The presence of this origin story in
texts like the Nijūisshaki of the mid-fourteenth century and the Nijūnisha chūshiki of the late
sixteenth century is particularly telling. These two compilations were works intended to describe
the nature and history of the Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes. Such texts were treated as
normative well into the nineteenth century and as formative texts in multiple Shintō
movements.
219
While the story has no precedent prior to the fourteenth century, it effectively
supplanted the narrative of the Yamashiro fūdoki, Ruiju kokushi, and Tenryaku Jingikan kanmon
accounts of the Inari kami’s relation to the mountain. The success of this story’s dissemination
strongly indicates the dominance of the cooperative relationship between the shrine and Tōji.

Bodhisattva from Afar
That the Inari deity came from afar and did not begin as an entity tied specifically to the
mountain or the surrounding area was another prominent element of the new narratives. Inari had
become a member of the broad class of kami that scholars have labeled as Yorikurukami 帰り来
る神, deities that have come from other lands and across the sea to settle in the Japanese

219
See Rambelli and Teeuwen.
105

archipelago.
220
This was a significant change for the kami. The Hata priest family for the shrine
are well known as an émigré clan from the Korean peninsula, but they are entirely elided from
the Inariki and similar sources, and there is no indication that their history is a factor in the
reimagining of the Inari kami coming from China. This is especially striking as the Hata priests
remained in control of the shrine. Based upon the strong Buddhist flavor of the Inariki, I would
argue that the deity’s travel from China to Japan is intended to mirror the movements of
Buddhist teachings across the ocean and emphasize that, while Inari may be localized to Japan,
the kami is fully a part of the Buddhist traditions within these texts. The authors of these works
must have found finessing the Buddhist connections of the kami more effective than building off
of the Hata family’s background. This notion, that the Inari deity came from China, became an
integral part of the kami’s identity in the medieval period, although the varied texts of the
medieval period included very different accounts of the deity’s travels from the continent to
Japan. Simply put, there was not agreement as to the significance of Inari’s arrival from the
continent.
There is for instance the following legend concerning Hata Ototari and his rescue of the
deity that would become Inari kami. One version of this legend can be found in the Inari ichiryū
daiji 稲荷⼀流⼤事 of 1408. The Inari ichiryū daiji was produced at Mount Kōya, another
Shingon stronghold like Tōji, by a monk named Jōjun 成純 who was recording the dreams and
interpretations of another monk named Echibō 恵智房.
221
This text encompasses a number of

220
See Gorai, 142-145, and Hinonishi Shinjō, “Inari shaden ni mōkerareta ana: Kōbō daishi to no
kankei wo shuten toshite,” Ake 39 (1996): 138-139. For a discussion of the prominence and importance of
immigrant deities in early Japan, see Como, Weaving and Binding, Chapter One.
221
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 32-33 of intro.
106

esoteric instructions for venerating Inari via rituals for the Celestial Fox King and the goddess
Dakiniten. The study of these rituals and their discourses will be the focus of the next chapter
and so I will not discuss them here. The legend of Hata Ototari apparently predates the Inari
ichiryū daiji and is also found on its own in a second text simply called the Ototari shingu
saimon 乙足神供祭⽂, which may be from the end of the Kamakura period. This Saimon’s
account of Inari’s arrival follows a very different narrative than that of the Inariki:
The deity is a manifest trace of Mañjuśrī. To provide benefits to sentient beings, they sometimes
appear as the Celestial Fox and bestow love and respect to people. At other times, they incarnate
as Tamonten [Vaiśravaṇa] and provide fortune and merit to people...it has been said about the
Celestial Fox[es?] that long ago in the Land of the Great Tang, during the time of Ōnanji
Konanji,
222
the Celestial Fox became an envoy and set out for the country of Japan. While
crossing the difficult waves, they were swallowed by a giant catfish ⼤鯰. Their lives were in
danger. Then Hata no Ototari 秦乙足 caught that catfish and saved the lives of the Yahashira
Divinities.
223
At that time, each was overjoyed to be alive and the Yahashira Divinities in one
voice promised: “We will become the servants of Ototari and follow the descendants of his
children. Crossing mountains and rivers, from this time and ever after, we will fulfill any desire
without fail. If we irresponsibly forget the debt of today, when we hear the names of descendants
of Ototari and have not fulfilled a wish, then for many years we will lose great benefits and not
attain Correct Awakening. This is like an Original Vow and who could question the benefits it
will bring to sentient beings? These Divinities of long ago are the Celestial Fox King.
224

Unlike the Inariki, the association between the Hata and Inari has been preserved in this source,
and the story depends upon that association. Like the Inariki, this text pointedly makes use of
specific Buddhist terminology to characterize the deity’s activities. The Inari ichiryū daiji

222
⼤汝小汝. Also known as the “Tale of Banji Banzaburō 磐司磐三郎.” This is a folktale once
popular among hunters, such as the Matagi of the Tōhoku region and known on the Korean Peninsula. It
tells the story of the eponymous siblings and their encounter with a mountain goddess as she is in the
midst of childbirth and in need of aid. One brother avoids her according to ritual pollution taboos, the
other assists her regardless. The one who aided her was blessed. This is no indication of when this legend
is set.
223
八柱御子. There are multiple Yahashira shrines in Ibaraki, Aichi, and Nara prefectures. This
story’s connection to these shrines, if there is one, is unclear. The divinities in question also vary between
the different shrines.
224
SJC case 317, number 7. This document is kept in the Shōmyōji Collection of the Kanazawa
Bunko archive. The archives and its contents will be more fully discussed in Chapter Three. For the Inari
ichiryū daiji version of the story, see Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 94-95.
107

situates this origin story amidst rituals for Inari that incorporate Ryōbu Shintō ideologies.
225
The
Ototari story itself makes it clear that, not only is the god a manifestation of the bodhisattva
Mañjuśrī, but the Inari kami should be understood as a being on the path of a bodhisattva in their
own right. The divinities rescued by Ototari are stated to be seeking to achieve Correct
Awakening (正覚, Jp. shōgaku), the form of enlightenment particular to a buddha. Their promise
to the Hata ancestor is likewise equated to the Original Vows (本誓, Jp. honzei) made by all
buddhas and bodhisattvas as they set out on the path to enlightenment.
The authors of multiple medieval sources in similar ways conceived of the Inari deity as
one that had come from China across the sea, albeit there was disagreement as to exactly what
that journey looked like. In any case, by being a deity from across the sea, the Inari kami, like the
Celestial Fox in Ototari’s story, had become an ‘envoy’ to Japan. The message that the deity
carried was whatever ritual or religious techniques that the given author highlighted in their
writings. The Inari shingyō 稲荷心経, which is paired with the Ototari Shingu saimon in the
Inari ichiryū daiji, uses familiar Buddhist language to express that the deity was moved by
compassion to provide benefits to sentient beings.
226
The Inariki adds that the kami will help
particularly those “who have no seeds of blessings 無福種.” Within the narratives of these
works, taking up residence upon Mount Inari was a means of providing for the people and
fulfilling the vows made to Kūkai and Hata Ototari.
Through this redescription of Inari’s life prior to appearing on the mountain, the authors
of these texts accomplish multiple changes for the overall transformation of the kami in the

225
On Ryōbu Shintō, see footnote 15 in the Introduction.
226
See Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 91-92.
108

medieval religious landscape. The new origin of the kami coming from across the sea and taking
up residence at the direction of Kūkai places the deity and shrine in accordance with Tōji. This
also allows the divinity and life of Inari to extend beyond just the borders of Mount Inari or
Japan. Such an expanded domain could be considered indicative of the kami’s efficacy and
power. Considering that by the beginning of the fourteenth century, Inari had long been a
prominent member of the Twenty-Two Shrines and protector of the state, this expanded domain
would have seemed more in line with its expansive ritual responsibilities. Or put another way, by
stating that Inari came from elsewhere to support and uphold various religious teachings, this
shows that the kami was part of a large and expansive tradition that had enveloped the mountain.
Additionally, as evidenced by the discussion above, this reimagining of Inari allowed it to
become a full-fledged bodhisattva.
Inari’s relationship with other bodhisattva was complicated. It is the case that, in
multiple sources, the Inari kami was identified as a provisional manifestation of a bodhisattva or
another Buddhist deity. Such relationships fit nicely within the honji suijaku paradigm.
227
The
Ototari Shingu saimon states that the deity is a manifestation of Mañjuśrī. At the same time, the
Inari ichiryū daiji further claims that the Inari deity is a manifestation of the Thousand-arm
Kannon, the Nyoirin Kannon, and the Eleven-headed Kannon, while the Shi no Daijin sub-shrine
is an embodiment of Vaiśravaṇa, the Tanaka sub-shrine is Fudō, and the deity of the Myōbu sub-
shrine is specifically Mañjuśrī. However, it has been observed that in practice Inari’s position as
a manifestation of any particular bodhisattva or buddha was weak. Yamaori Tetsuō for example
asserted that in comparison to a deity such as Hachiman, whom medieval sources generally
agreed had Daijizaiten as his original ground, Inari instead often took the place of honji and was

227
See the Introduction.
109

temporarily manifested as either an old man or a maid, which could act as suijaku for Inari.
228

Additionally, I would posit that this is one of the peculiarities of a kami whose shrine complex
consists of multiple significant shrines: while the kami is a composite deity wherein each major
shrine’s enshrined god is considered an aspect of one deity, each individual shrine also has its
own identity.
229
If one attempts to comprehend the composite deity in relation to the separate
shrines, then the result is that the composite deity is a multivalent and ambiguous entity. In other
words, the multiplicity of bodhisattva original grounds for each separate shrine in the Inari
multiplex makes it unclear if the composite Inari kami is actually a trace manifestation and has a
distinct original ground. Indeed, this opacity regarding the kami’s status as an original ground or
trace manifestation provided an opportunity for authors to assert a superior status for Inari. It is
probably for this reason that the Kada kōshiki 荷田講式, a liturgical text produced by a shrine
branch family, states that the Inari deity “while expressing the meaning of the Two
Mandalas…conceals the true form of her original ground… and is the True Body (眞身, Jp.
shinshin) of Mañjuśrī. “
230
The many shrines around the mountain and their possible bodhisattva
resemble the composition of a mandala, and, taken together, the multiplex and the composite
deity as a whole constitute a True Body of a Buddhist deity, not simply a provisional one. This
indicates that at least the thirteenth century authors of the Kada kōshiki did not view Inari as a
trace manifestation or inferior to the Mañjuśrī honji. The narratives about the shrine found in its

228
Yamaori Tetsuo, Kami to okina no minzokugaku (Tokyo: Kōdansha, 1991), 172-173.
229
A similar sort of confusion surrounded the many shrines of the Kasuga complex.
230
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 25-26. 示兩部曼荼之奥旨…秘本地之正躰
…⽂殊真身。
110

new myths and the Buddhist ritual discourses in medieval period mutually reinforce each other in
this way.

The Name of Inari
The Inariki and other sources posit that it was the people of the land that began to call the
deity from across the sea as “the kami of Inari (稲荷ノ神).” The citizens of Otagi bestowed this
name on the kami because it carried (荷) rice (稲) in bags on its shoulders. The Inariki provides
little description of the deity’s form beyond this, although most other texts state that the deity
had the appearance of a strange old man (翁 okina)
when it appeared before Kūkai.
231
In fact, this
depiction of Inari is common today, perhaps because it
is easily associated with the kanji used for kami’s name
(Figure 6). Of course, the Yamashiro fūdoki provided a
different story for how the Inari etymology and it
appears that the current kanji were assigned to the
name after that text had already been composed.
The text additionally also states that the deity
was known as the Aramatsuri 荒祭 of Ise, the
Shiratōme ⽩嫥⼥ of Kibune, and Hitokotonushi ⼀⾔

231
See for instance the Inari ryūki, where the deity is labeled 異相老翁 by the author. Inari taisha
yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 39.
Figure 6: “Inari Mandarazu” 稲荷曼荼羅
図. Close up of Inari as an okina.
Collection of Yayoi Bunko. Photo
reproduced from Nakamura Akira, 66.
111

主 of Isagawa in Nara.
232
More importantly, however, the Inariki claims that the Inari deity has a
separate name that it preferred or by which it wanted to be called. The kami wanted to be known
as the “Kami of Love of the Dharma (愛法神 Aihōjin).” ‘Love’ or ‘attachment’ to the Dharma
was a concept variously expounded upon in major Buddhist treatises such as the Mohe zhiguan
(摩訶止観, Jp. Maka shikan), the Four-Part Vinaya (四分律, Jp. Shibun ritsu), and the
Yogâcārabhūmi śāstra (瑜伽論, Jp. Yugaron).
233
Cultivation of a love of the Dharma is a quite
orthodox practice. At the same time, the characters for ‘aihō 愛法’ could be understood literally
to mean the “rites of love.” The eleventh century works of Fujiwara Akihira describe rituals of
aihō performed around Kyoto, and partially associated with Inari, wherein people prayed to gods
for help in finding romantic partners or birthing children.
234
While the particulars of this tradition
are not clear, it will be revisited below and in Chapter Four of the dissertation. The name of
Aihōjin is likely a pun intended to cause the audience to recollect both associations for the Inari
kami. Yet, the Inariki does not expand on the notion here other than to say that if people revere
the kami then they will develop the right sort of love for the Dharma and also obtain worldly
blessings.
What is most interesting about the kami claiming it has a preferred name and yet is
known by another is the notion that a deity’s name is determined by those that revere it and that
there can be confusion concerning its name. A name is usually understood as a way to identify a

232
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 6.
233
Ding Fubao, “愛法” in DDB.
234
See for instance, Abe Yasurō, Yuya no kōgō: Chūsei no sei to seinaru mono (Nagoya: Nagoya
Daigaku Shuppanka, 1998), 280-315.
112

particular entity and connect a legacy to that entity. It is of course not uncommon for someone or
something to have multiple names. However, with the kami of medieval Japan, the issuing of
names is complex and has several peculiarities. This is especially the case for composite deities
such as Inari who have multiple prominent sub-shrines fundamental to their reputation. Inari was
known to have three main shrines from at least the time of the Engishiki, but these are given no
definite names besides ‘Upper,’ ‘Middle,’ and ‘Lower’ in most medieval texts. Later, they came
to be identified with Ōmiya no meno Ōkami, Satahiko no Ōkami, and Uka no mitama no
Ōkami.
235
This may not have happened until 1499 when the consolidated main shrine was
constructed lower down the mountain. As of the Ryōjin hishō 梁塵秘抄, compiled around 1171,
two more shrines had become prominent and Inari came to be referred to as a deity with five
enshrined aspects.
236
The additional two shrines were the Tanaka and Shi no Ōkami shrines, but
there is even debate as to the individual names of the kami enshrined in these places as well.
The potential contained within the multiplicity of names for the Inari deity was useful for
authors as they constructed discourses for the complex. The Inariki rearranges and re-identifies
the shrines and deities of these to create a mandala, and explains the nature of the mountain
topography and its deities in this way:
It is also said that this place is the secret place that now universally illumines and pacifies the
ground. In the past it was a ground on which buddhas became enlightened. This mountain is a
mountain of five peaks. This place is a place of eight leaves. The assembly where Vairocana
expounded the dharma was here. At the west peak, Aizen’ō-Benzaiten
237
manifested and
bestowed fortune unto sentient beings without seeds of fortune (it is named the Peak of
Bestowal
238
). In the north, Fudō-Sandaijin
239
manifested and punished those people of no belief.

235
See also my discussion of this issue in the Introduction.
236
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 16.
237
愛染王弁才天
238
施峯
239
不動三⼤神
113

In the east, Daiitoku-Tenshōdai-Daten
240
manifested and took pity on all sentient beings. In the
south, Trailokyavijaya-Hāritī
241
[manifested] and took pity on those people bound by affection
towards others. In the middle is Inari-Amida-Shinko’ō.
242

The different peaks and their shrines house amalgams of deities prominent in the esoteric rituals
of Inari that are to be studied in the next chapter. The reimagining of the shrines and mountain in
this way would have been vital to overlaying esoteric Buddhist discourses of Inari on the real-
world mountain. In fact, the text lists these shrines and peaks in accordance with the order that
most pilgrims would have encountered them as they circled clockwise around the mountain since
the old path for ascending the site began from the southwest slope. On the other hand, the Inari
daimyōjin engi and Inari ichiryū daiji, as noted above, identified the shrines and their deities by
stating that they are actually three forms of Kannon in addition to Fudō and Tamonten. A
sixteenth century map of the shrine from after the unified main shrine was established indicates
that series of names gained acceptance, for the five deities are identified in the same way.
243

Yet, the legends of the Inari deity in the Inariki preferred a different way of naming the
kami. Following the origin story of Inari taking up residence on the mountain, the text turned to
some accounts of the various ways that the deity assisted the people of Japan and protected the
court. In these legends, the author named the kami as “Myōbu 命婦.” Myōbu was a way to refer
to a woman above the fifth rank who served at the court in an official capacity. Even today
Myōbu is sometimes recognized as a way to refer to the foxes that are supposed to serve Inari.
244

240
⼤威徳天照太吒天
241
降三世ノ明神訶利帝⺟
242
稲荷彌陁辰狐王. Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 12.
243
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, image 11 in front matter.
244
Shōgakkan zenbun zen'yaku kogo jiten. See also Yamamoto Hiroko, Henjōfu: Chūsei shinbutsu
shūgō no sekai (Tōkyō: Kōdansha), 344-349, on connections between spirit foxes, the name myōbu, and
the Shiratōme ⽩嫥⼥ of Ise.
114

Yet, it is clear that in the context of the Inariki, the author used ‘Myōbu’ not to name a
messenger of Inari, and instead the word was used as a moniker for the gods itself.

The Legacy of Myōbu
Inari in the guise of Myōbu is stated to have been exceptionally active behind the scenes
of Japanese history. In particular, the kami provided frequent assistance to the Fujiwara family. It
is through her intercessions that they would rise to political ascendency, and then she further
helped to maintain their prosperity. Myōbu is credited with bestowing good fortune upon
Emperor Ninmyō,
245
Ōnakatomi Masamune who was also called Ichien ⼀演 the “One-Step
Superintendent of Monks” ⼀階僧正,
246
Fujiwara Gishi 藤原祇子 (?-1053), Fujiwara
Morozane,
247
his younger brother Kakuen the Superintendent Monk of Uji Mimuroto,
248

Fujiwara Kamatari 藤原鎌足 (614-669), Shichijō'in the consort of Emperor Takakura,
249
and
Saionji Kintsune.
250
Each of these individuals was said to have expressed trust in the deity of
Mount Inari and performed rituals for the kami, quickly attaining great social standing and

245
仁明天皇, 810-850, r. 833-850.
246
⼤中臣正棟, 803-867.
247
藤原師実, 1042-1101. Regent to Emperors Shirakawa and Horikawa.
248
覺圓, 1031-1098. He held leading positions at Tendai temples such as Onjōji 園城寺 and
Hōshōji 法勝寺.
249
Shichijō'in 七條院, also known as Fujiwara Shokushi 藤原殖子, 1157-1228. The Inariki
author’s apparent deference when writing about her in this section is one of the ways in which scholars
have judged the validity of this work as an early fourteenth century document. In regard to Myōbu’s work
in Shichijō'in’s life, the author wrote “此ハ近御事ナレハ記ニ恐アリ” or “As this is a recent event, I am
worried of recording it.” See ST vol. 9, page 9.
250
⻄園寺公経, 1171-1244. Son of Fujiwara Sanemune, a grand minister during the early years of
the Kamakura shogunate, enjoyed great wealth through control of numerous estates, and skilled at both
poetry composition and playing the biwa.
115

authority. Often, the rituals for Myōbu would result in benefits not only for the performer of her
rites, but also for their children. This becomes a primary characteristic of Inari in the narrative of
the Inariki. The god is cast as a deity that helps not only the immediate practitioner, but also their
offspring or descendants. This may be an artefact of the god’s association with rites for love and
marriage. The plethora of successful Fujiwara scions that were helped by Myōbu primarily serve
as evidence of the kami’s efficacy—for no one could dispute the good fortune of the Fujiwara—
but tying the deity so close to that family may also be a means of supplementing the Hata family,
who are absent from the narrative and whose successes pale in comparison to those of the
Fujiwara in the political realm. For the groups who wished to promote the Inari kami, associating
the deity with the Fujiwara rather than the Hata would serve to raise its prestige in the public’s
imaginations.
Bringing this wide array of characters into Inari’s story also allows the author to
demonstrate just how broad the kami’s efficacy is. Shichijō'in’s story demonstrates how Myōbu
assisted families and their descendants. The tales of Emperor Ninmyō and Fujiwara Kamatari
indicate the deity’s efficacy in relation to royal authority. Legends abound of Inari in the form of
Dakiniten allowing people to become sovereigns or kings, and Ninmyō and Kamatari are
certainly allusions to that repertoire. However, the aforementioned instance of Myōbū helping
Ichien become a “One-Step Superintendent of Monks” or Ikkai sōjō ⼀階僧正 shows that this
deity additionally had the ability to affect the monastic hierarchy. Inari’s efficacy in this domain
was also affirmed in other texts from the fourteenth century.
251
For instance, in Kōshū’s (光宗,

251
I have chosen to translate ikkai ⼀階 as “one-step” here to capture the sense of alacrity with
which these rituals are supposed to lead to promotion for Ichien and others. However, it might be that a
more direct translation is appropriate wherein ikkai would be better translated as “first rank.” In either
116

1276-1350) well-known Keiranshūyōshū (渓嵐拾葉集, T 2410) there is an example of a
different monk performing a “One-Step Superintendent of Monks” ritual on Mount Inari. In the
Keiranshūyōshū this story appears amidst other accounts demonstrating the particulars of Inari’s
identity with Dakiniten and appears in a section of the text for that goddess:
On the Matter of the Secret Offering of the One-Step Superintendent of Monks
For this secret offering of becoming the Superintendent of Monks, take one dumpling, cover it with
a soybean powder and offer it at the appropriate time. This is a secret item that is indiscriminate.
This is called the aburako 油子 of One-Step Superintendent of Monks. The story of its origin says
that one who was this kind of superintendent (僧正 sōjō) was Ningai of the Ono school. At the peak
of Inari, he practiced these rites for one thousand days. This is now designated as the Peak of the
Sōjō. Every day during that period, the daughter of the Gion Servant Dharma Teacher was sent with
food for the day. In accordance with her meritorious deeds, that woman eventually became an
empress. Now she is called the Gion Court Lady. Because he was the monk in whom the lady took
refuge, Ningai became a one-step sōjō. It is because of this that it is called a one-step sōjō.
252

Ningai (仁海, 950c-1046) was also a member of the Fujiwara family and in 1029 was made a
steward of Tōdaiji. The message of the story appears to be that just by performing the ritual on
Mount Inari, Ningai in one act assured his eventual position at the top of the monastic hierarchy.
Additionally, just by providing him with sustenance and being in close proximity to Ningai’s
practice, the daughter of the Gion Servant Dharma Teacher
253
was able to jump in rank and
standing herself to become the “Gion Court Lady (祇園⼥御 gion nyōgo).” Ningai was known to
be particularly effective at performing rain-making rituals and his inclusion in this story may

case, the point is that Ichien and then Ningai were able to jump right to the top of monastic hierarchy
thanks to the intervention of aspects of Inari.
252
Translated from T2410, 633b03-09. This story is also translated in David Bialock, Eccentric
Spaces, Hidden Histories: Narrative, Ritual, and Royal Authority from The Chronicles of Japan to the
Tale of the Heike (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2007), 297-299. Bialock examines this episode
from the Keiranshūyōshū in relation to the mechanics and efficacy of heterodox narratives, a topic I will
further explore in the following chapter.
253
Gion jōjihosshi 祇園承仕法師. A jōjihosshi was a position at different types of temples,
fulfilling a caretaker-like role. They might be monks or laypeople depending upon the situation.
117

well be another allusion to Inari’s own prominence in such rites. Interestingly, the Gion Court
Lady, a favorite mistress of the Retired Emperor Shirakawa, could not have been alive at the
same time as Ningai.
254
However, in other sources the Gion Court Lady was said to have
performed similar types of rituals and her inclusion here may serve to bring in the imaginaries of
those legends as well.
Myōbu then was presented as a goddess for which people could perform rites of
veneration and direct prayers for assistance. Generally, the blessings this identity of Inari
bestowed could be perceived as gifts of abundance and authority actualized through the
miraculous improvement of fortunes for the human actors in these legends. However, the Inariki
does make it clear that the kami would take direct action and interpose themselves into situations
when necessary. The climax of the record of the god’s deeds in the text comes when Myōbu acts
to defend Emperor Daigo from the onslaught of a wrathful Kitano Tenman Tenjin. The Inariki
describes Myōbu’s confrontation with the angry spirit of Sugawara no Michizane in the
following:
[Myōbū] also made the bitter enemy of this realm retreat and gave the fortune of peace to the
land. One day, they peered through the obstructions of the Māra Realm and decided to become a
protector of the safety of the Jeweled Body…When Tenman Daijizai Tenjin was exiled to
Dazaifu, he harbored wrath and became angry. He turned into Daishō Itokuten and gathered
together 168,000 evil deities, appeared as a god of thunder, and fell upon the royal palace. He
harmed retainers and intended to kill the ruler. When [the sovereign] asked who the deity on
guard duty (tonoi no kami 宿直ノ神) that day was, [the guardian] unwaveringly announced
themselves as Inari Daimyōjin, came to the palace hall, and, covered the Engi mikado (Emperor
Daigo) with their robes. Even the awesome Tenjin Daijizaiten feared the divine might of Inari,
and as he would not look [upon the kami], great disaster did not befall the Jeweled Body. It was a
wonderful event. At that time, the deity came flying in the form of a woman of the court (nyōbō
⼥房) and concealed the ruler. She paid respect to the minister (Fujiwara Tokihira) and an image
of the form of the Myōbu
255
was reflected in the long sword that had been drawn by the minister.

254
Cf, Tanaka Takako, Gehō to aihō no chūsei, 204-207.
255
The grammar of the original Japanese is particularly oblique here and so the episode is left
open to some interpretation; however, it appears to be the case that the Inari deity had possessed a regular
woman of the court ⼥房 and used her body to physically defend Daigo from Tenjin’s attack. However,
118

People thought this greatly wonderful, and it is said that now that long sword had been passed on
as a protective amulet of the Royal Household Guards. According to this, it is because of Inari
Daimyōjin that Tenjin was not able to kill the ruler.
256

The story of Sugawara Michizane and his deification as Kitano Tenman Tenjin is well known.
257

The various misfortunes that befell the capital and the Fujiwara following his death and exile led
to a quick rise in fame for the Kitano shrine. It is also counted among the Twenty-Two Shrine-
Multiplexes alongside Inari. Despite both being in that special grouping, “even the awesome
Tenjin Daijizaiten feared the divine might of Inari.” This is a clear statement of the superiority of
one kami over another. Introducing Kitano Tenjin into Inari’s legends seems a sure way to
simultaneously confirm the deity’s role as a protector of the state, connect the Inari deity to the
popular legends of Kitano, and assert the Inari kami’s superiority to the undoubtedly powerful
Tenman Tenjin.
Whereas the other stories of the Inariki allude to Myōbu’s ability to change hierarchies
and individuals’ fates, here the author reinforces the kami’s position as a deity that protects the
order of the whole country, and the sovereign—the foremost member of that state—in particular.
This story, and the conflict between Inari and Kitano Tenjin was not limited to the Inariki. The
legend had at least enough social currency to achieve cross-pollination in cultural imagination.
Again, the Keiranshūyōshū provides a point of comparison. That work retells the story in the
following way:
On the Matter of Ill-will between Inari and Kitano
One story says that when Kitano Tenjin became a thunder deity and wanted to violently enter the
palace and become a hindrance [to the court], there was a meeting of the senior council. It was
asked who of the Thirty Guardian Deities was appointed for that day. At that time, Inari

while she may have appeared plain, the blade of Tokihira’s sword reflected the divine form of the
personality of Inari known as Myōbu, something more spectacular than the mortal woman before them.
256
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 7-9.
257
Cf. Robert Borgen, Sugawara no Michizane and the Early Heian Court (Honolulu: University
of Hawai’i Press, 1994).
119

daimyōjin mounted a cloud and appeared. Because [Inari] opposed their divine authority to
Tenjin, he did not become a hindrance. There is ill will between Kitano and Inari. Therefore, on
the day that one journeys to Kitano, they should not travel on that same day to Inari.
258

While succinct in comparison, the Keiranshūyōshū tells the same story as the Inariki. However,
there is disagreement on one crucial point between the two texts. While the Keiranshūyōshū
asserts that one does not travel to Kitano and Inariyama in the same day, the Inariki claims that
the relationship between the two gods has been healed and that the former restriction on travel is
no more. The title of the section in the Keiranshūyōshū and its inclusion in that encyclopedic
work suggests that this story may have been of broad interest to the medieval esoteric world. In
contrast to the Inariki, which has the flavor of the Shingon tradition as expected from a text
associated with Tōji and Mount Kōya, the Keiranshūyōshū is generally considered a work
produced from within the Tendai School. In part, this difference is apparent from the way in
which Inari’s court duty is referred to across the texts. The Inariki simply refers to Inari as a
“deity on guard duty (tonoi no kami 宿直ノ神),” whereas the Keiranshūyōshū calls Inari one of
the “Thirty Guardian Deities (sanjū banjin 三十番神).”
259
The Thirty Guardian Deities were a
group of kami established as protectors of the Lotus sutra and the imperial court within Tendai
circles, before being adopted in the Nichiren traditions as well.
260
This difference in tradition
may be related to the difference of opinion about the state of the relationship between the kami.

258
Translated from T 2410, 512c15-21.
259
For an in depth look at the Tendai characteristics of this story in the Keiranshūyōshū, see
Matsumoto Kōichi, “Inari myōjin to Kitano tenjin: Keiranshūyōshū ni miru setsuwa henyō,” Ake 39
(1996): 85-91.
260
This grouping is established in Japan of course, but it is likewise based on the Chinese
precedent of the Thirty Guardian Buddhas (sanjūnichi butsumyō 三十⽇仏名). See also Mihashi Takeshi,
“Hokke shugo sanjū banjin to Inari daimyōjin (kami),” Ake 40 (1997): 59-74. The permutations of which
kami were included in this grouping varied some, although Inari was usually responsible for the sixth or
twenty-second days.
120

While the two texts were produced nearly contemporaneously, if one story had been circulated
earlier, the retelling of the legend allows the two schools to negotiate with each other in the
mythology of Inari.
While this tale does not come in the Dakiniten section of the Keiranshūyōshū, elsewhere
in the text it is clear that the compiler considers the two deities to be identical. We will see in the
next chapter that Inari in the guise of Dakiniten could be considered quite ferocious in medieval
esoteric texts. She would appear to be a dangerous deity to place into association with the throne
and sovereign authority. Accounts such as this may have been helpful for balancing out those
hazardous aspects of the goddess and showing that, whatever her other proclivities, she would
certainly come to the defense of the emperor.
These are not the only stories that describe Inari’s capacity to protect people from evil
spirits. The first scroll of the mid-thirteenth century Kokonchōmonjū 古今著聞集 includes a tale
about an early Heian monk named Teisū (also Jōsū 貞崇, 866-944).
261
One day Teisū was
chanting the Greater Wisdom Sutra and Diamond Sutra in the Seiryōden 清涼殿, one of the
emperor’s dwelling places in the imperial palace. He heard the footfalls of a large person and
then a small person, but did not see to who they belonged. Afterwards, a small person appears to
Teisū and informs him that evil spirits caused the first set of footfalls, however they were
repelled as the small person interceded on account of Teisū’s chanting. The small figure then
identified themselves as Inari.
262
Examined together, these stories provide an example of how
Inari’s particular repertoire of abilities and legends extended beyond the boundaries of genre and

261
See Kokonchōmonjū scroll 1, KT 15, 3.
262
See Matsumoto Kōichi, 86-87.
121

reached multiple audiences. In the same regard, the association between Inari and Shichijō’in is
also present in the Kada kōshiki, demonstrating that story also was circulating among multiple
centers of production for the Inari cult’s literature.
263

Foxes and Inari
Despite the ubiquity of foxes in today’s Inari cult, the animals seldom appear in the texts
that I have so far analyzed for this chapter. The Ototari shingu saimon does establish the kami as
a manifestation of the Shinko’ō 辰狐王, the Celestial Fox King. In the Inariki, the middle shrine
of the five is stated to be an amalgamation of Inari, Amida, and the same Celestial Fox King.
Yet, the only time that text refers to Inari taking the form of a fox is in connection with the
legend of the deity assisting Fujiwara Kamatari:
As for the prosperity of the regents, their origins are in the works of the Taishokukan Kamatari.
After that Kamatari was born, one fox took Kamatari, and then went and gave him to the Naka no
Irone Prince. [Kamatari] put the traitor to the court Soga omi Iruka (also named Kuratsukuri) to
death, and then put his father Soga ōomi Emishi to death. This too is something known by
everyone.
264

Then the texts claims: “People who suppose that the deity is frightening had best investigate that
origin…They are the reason for the prosperity of the sovereign and for all of the success of the
Fujiwara.”
265
The fox is supposed to be Myōbu transformed. The Inariki also ends with a further
warning or admonishment by its author:
The stories of Myōbu are present within other teachings. However, I have properly cited some
texts and spoken some of the logic behind her continuous activity. Now indeed, the ignorant
groups that intend to slander Myōbu say that she is a base animal.
266
When they speak of the
frivolous matters of this world it is a pitiful thing. Amid the animals there are ‘true

263
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 28.
264
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 6. Text in parentheses are interlinear notes,
bracketed text is added for clarity.
265
Inari’s connections with Fujiwara authority will be further explored in the following chapters.
266
畜生 chikushō
122

manifestations’
267
and there are ‘provisional manifestations.’
268
This Myōbu is a divine
transformation of her provisional manifestation’s continuous activity.
269

This is the last word of the text’s author and perhaps the culminating moral of the entire
recounting of Myōbu’s activity. The words make two things clear: first, it is commonly thought
by some at the time of this text’s compilation that Inari was a fox deity or took the form of a
similar animal. Second, some people must have used this aspect of the deity to malign or belittle
Inari. Otherwise, the refutation would have been unnecessary.
Although the Inariki deity’s connection with foxes lacks detail and is indistinct, an
examination of other texts from the same time period lets us see that Inari – particularly via the
name of Myōbu – was in fact frequently associated with foxes in the imaginaire of the time.
For instance, the Inari ryūki related this story concerning the Myōbu deity and its
relationship to Inari:
According to some records, north of the Rakuyō,
270
in the vicinity of Mount Funaoka,
there were a couple of old foxes. The husband had white fur that stood up like silver
needles. The end of his tail glowed and resembled a five prong vajra of secret mysteries.
The wife had the head of deer and the body of a fox. There were also five children, each
of unusual countenance. During the Kōnin period, these two along with their five
children went to Mount Inari. They each kneeled before the kami and said, "even though
we received the bodies of beasts, we have been innately provided with numinous
intelligence
271
and sincerely wish to protect the people and provide worldly benefits. We
harbor this desire within our bodies. We wish that from today we would be the retainers
of this shrine. We would borrow the divine authority so as to fulfill this wish."
Immediately, the altar of the kami shook with sympathy and the deity decreed: "we
manifest the good works of dimming our light and mingling with the dust and distribute
the expedient means of salvation and worldly benefits. You all, your Original Vow is also
wonderful! From now on, eternally, become the servants of this shrine, and assist and
have compassion for pilgrims and the groups of those with faith. The husband should

267
実類 jitsurui – a word used in contrast to the term gonge 権化 to describe manifestations of
god that are precisely the original form of the god, and should be revered as such.
268
権化
269
権化等流ノ神變 Translated from Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 20-21.
270
洛陽, an area of Kyoto.
271
靈智 Ryōchi.
123

serve the Upper Shrine. His name shall be Kosusugi 小芊. The wife should go to the
Lower Shrine. She will be called Akomachi." According to this, they established vows of
ten types and fulfill the wishes of all people. Therefore, people who have faith in this
shrine, whether in dreams or while awake, when they see those forms, they call them
‘foxes of prophecy.’
272

This legend appears to state that it is not specifically that the foxes and Inari have always had a
connection, but rather that foxes later came to act as servants of the kami. The foxes then come
to people in dreams and in the waking world to confer blessings or words of Inari as appropriate.
This is not unlike the story of the Ototari saimon where, after being saved from the giant catfish,
the Celestial Fox(es?) in the form of the Yahashira Divinities vowed to serve the Hata family. Of
course, the language in this story is also exceedingly Buddhist and the seven foxes even make
their own Original Vow as would be expected of a future bodhisattva. This legend also brings
together foxes and the name “Akomachi 阿古町.”
It is thought that the name “Akomachi” is derived from terms such as mauchigimi 町王
or mauchikimidachi 町公達, which referred to individuals dedicated, perhaps married, to gods
that served as mediums like the more commonly known miko.
273
In any case, Akomachi is
another ambiguous name that often appears in Inari mythologies. It is used several times in the
Inariki as another way to directly address the kami. However, Akomachi is just one of the fox

272
告狐 tsugegitsune or kokuko are both possible readings. Translated from Inari taisha yuishoki
shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 41-42. Also discussed in Smyers, 79-80. A similar story was included in the
Inari chinza yūrai 稲荷鎮座由来 written in 1386 by the Buddhist priest Yūnen 融然, however in that
variant the foxes only have one child. Cf. Marinus Willem de Visser, “The Fox and the Badger in
Japanese Folklore,” Transactions of the Atlantic Society of Japan 36, no. 3 (1908): 140-141.
273
Orthography is intended to more closely match the projected Heian period pronunciation for
these terms. 町 could also be replaced by 松 for these terms. See Ōwa Iwao, “Akomachi Konokomachi to
Dakini: Inari shinkō to ichisokumen” Ake 36 (1993): 48-64.
124

retainers in the Inari ryūki story. Another legend from the Inari daimyōjin engi agrees that
Akomachi is just the name of one fox servant.
In the fifteenth century Inari daimyōjin engi, when the Inari kami came to take up
residence on the mountain, at Kūkai’s direction but with Emperor Saga’s permission according
to this text, they had with them a large retinue. Other texts also note that the kami had retainers.
However, unlike most other sources, this text specifies the identities of the members of this
group. The old man that leads the groups is stipulated to represent the Upper Shrine. Two
accompanying women were manifestations of the Middle and Lower Shrines. Two august
looking children were identified as being forms of the Tanaka and Shi no Daijin shrines.
Additionally. there were also two ‘Myōbu’ in the party. These were of two types. One was a
manifestation of Mañjuśrī. The other one is called a ‘walking myōbu ( 歩き命婦 aruki myōbu).’
The Daimyōjin engi explains that in the distant past, at Mount Funaoka, the two women were
bestowed foxes as children. They then prayed to the Inari deity to serve the kami and thereafter
entered the deity’s retinue as attendants.
274

That account then should be understood to assert that Akomachi is of a pair with the
bodhisattva Mañjuśrī, and both are identifiable as a ‘myōbu’ of sorts. Again, the foxes and
Akomachi are tied to Mount Funaoka as was the case in the Inari ryūki. Mount Funaoka 船岡山
is in the southern part of the northern region of Kyoto. Since the Heian period, this mountain has
been known for the hosting of both imperial evening banquets and funerary sendoffs. It is not
apparent though why this place in particular is tied to Inari and Akomachi, but it clearly had
found a place in the repertoire of Inari legends as well.

274
Paraphrased from Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 54.
125

In fact, an association between Inari and Akomachi predates all of the medieval texts on
which I have focused in this chapter. The eleventh century Shinsarugakuki 新猿楽記 includes
these lines when describing the travails of the first wife of the fictional Uemon no jō and her
ritual efforts to maintain her relationship with her husband:
At the Man Festival of Igatome on Kitsunezaka 野干坂, she dances, striking an abalone shell. At
the Love Rituals 愛法 of Akomachi on Mount Inari, she rubs in joy a dried tuna. To the guardian
deity of Gojō street, she offers a thousand rice cakes and to the Yaksha of Tōji, she dedicates a
hundred baskets of rice.
275

This text does not specify that Akomachi is related to foxes, but it is noteworthy that Mount Inari
is paired with Kitsunezaka, or “Fox Hill.” This is one of the key primary sources used to
demonstrate that Inari was considered a kami of love, marriage, or childbirth. I will return to
some of the theories related to the various rites described in the Shinsarugakuki passage later in
the dissertation.
On the other hand, the Kada kōshiki instead focuses on Akomachi as a particular
manifestation of Inari and states that “‘Akomachi Myōbu’ incarnated as a ‘divine fox 神狐’ and
holds the ‘sharp sword of wisdom 智恵之利剱.'”
276
Again, this description of Akomachi
highlights her esoteric Buddhist qualities. This is the world from which these texts emerged, one
steeped in Shingon and Tendai traditions.
The foxes of Inari in this way came in many varieties during the medieval period.
Sometimes it appears that the Inari deity, in the guise of Akomachi or Myōbu, is a fox like the
Celestial Fox King itself. At other times, the foxes are simply retainers of the kami. It could of

275
Translated from Shinsarugakuki in Tōyōbunko, 36. See also Joan Piggott, trans., “An Account
of the New Monkey Music” in Haruo Shirane, Traditional Japanese Literature: An Anthology,
Beginnings to 1600 (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007), 491-497.
276
Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei: shinkōsha sakuhen, 26.
126

course be apologetically suggested that the retainer foxes are temporary and situational
manifestations of Inari. Then all of the mythologies could in that way be united and corroborated
as uncontradictory. However, as there is nothing in the texts to suggest this and as the texts come
from a variety of times and places, it is more likely that each variant mythology is in fact
proffering different accounts of Inari and their association with foxes. Perhaps this was necessary
to combat the sort of antagonism hinted at in the Inariki and fend off attacks on Inari related to
their ties with foxes. Each variant provides evidence of how different authors and traditions
understood and venerated the Inari deity in its connection to the animals.

Conclusions
These are the lives of Inari as found in medieval sources. Authors found different ways to
imagine Inari as a guardian or a bodhisattva or a master of foxes, and retold the history of the
kami to conform to those imaginings.
Already in the previous chapter it was noted that kami like Inari, in their roles as state
protectors and for the interests of private individuals, were frequently the target of Buddhist rites
for veneration. An important conceit for the above is recognition that in premodern Japan Inari
could not be said to belong to a single or individual religious tradition such as Shinto or
Buddhism. Indeed, extensive scholarship from the last few decades has done an excellent job of
demonstrating how the borders between Buddhist practices and kami cults in Japan were porous
and fluid.
277
This chapter includes ample evidence that reaffirms such scholarship. However, it is
also possible to move beyond this recognition. To do so, I have analyzed how the narratives and
discourses of the kami Inari were transformed through the influence of Buddhist traditions and

277
See Introduction.
127

what this might indicate about the nature of kami in the medieval Japanese imaginary in general.
I would contend that a careful reading shows that Inari came to often be used by medieval
authors as a sort of ‘bridge’ between different religious concerns. This is perhaps no more
apparent than when the Inariki stated that each of the main shrines of the mountain complex
enshrines multiple major deities prominent in exoteric and esoteric traditions. The multiple
identities of Inari as an amalgam allowed for the bringing together of multiple personalities in
each instantiation of the kami.
To facilitate the negotiations between different shrines or different ideas about divinity or
different ritual traditions, the identity of a kami was something always in flux and multifaceted.
It is for this reason that Inari might be called the manifest trace of multiple bodhisattvas in one
text and in another called a “True Body 眞身.” This sort of plasticity would undoubtedly have
been a useful trait for those authors who wanted to support and utilize a kami for any purpose.
Rigidly insisting on a particular understanding of a deity limits its avenues for success, while
embracing the ambiguity does the opposite and provides more opportunities for a given cult or
tradition to grow. Then it is not surprising that authors in the preceding sources did in fact resist
delimiting the purview of the Inari kami.
However, by no means did it seem that the identity of Inari was wildly different from
source to source. Indeed, quite a few characteristics are recurring: the mountain, the relationship
with Kūkai, and the association with foxes, to name a few that held places of prominence in
Inari’s medieval repertoire. Rather, the divergences across sources are most often subtle. I would
contend that for the discourse concerning a deity to have success, even while authors and
compilers may desire to bring new material so as to introduce their particular agenda, an author
would need to keep enough elements from previous stories of Inari so that there is a definite
128

continuity between the new stories and the old myths such that the authority of the Inari deity is
continued from past instantiations such that that authority may be maintained and borrowed. This
is why the mountain’s trees are mentioned in disparate stories and why Nijūnisha hon'en needed
to include the meeting with Kūkai even while introducing Saichō into Inari’s history. This is also
apparent in the spread of the story of Inari’s confrontation with Tenman Tenjin; the Inariki and
Keiranshūyōshū both provide the legend, even while disagreeing about its significance. In such
cases, the myths that built up around the deity partly dictated the ways in which a new narrative
could be written, or a new tradition could be introduced. The deity’s presence, in all of its
variations that managed to carve their way into the culture’s memory and imaginary, in this way
acts upon and affects the world as shaped through the discourses of myths and religious
traditions.
As Isomae suggests regarding the different types of mythologies in premodern Japan, all
of these types of works were part of an effort to return to the origins of a thing—whether a
sovereign, a clan, a shrine or something else entirely.
278
The assertion of knowledge about the
origins and the course of things from that time to the present provides the storyteller with both
authority and legitimacy, traits that shrines like the Inari shrine attempted to capitalize on by
presenting its own rendition of the case of its origins and marrying those origins to the story of
the court. This practice was apparent in the Yamashiro fūdoki and the Tenryaku Jingikan
kanmon, or when later texts asserted the kami’s blessings upon emperors, empresses, and
regents. Yet, based upon the tenuity of these connections, authors of Inari’s mythologies could
not rely on the Kiki and the strictly emperor-centered history of similar sources. Instead, they
turned to the cultural currency of Tōji, Kūkai, and bodhisattvas. Indeed, because Inari’s

278
Isomae, 10-16.
129

associations with the Kiki have always been thin, it likely was quite easy for supporters of the
cult to overlay those links with new myths. Note then that the medieval reformation of Inari’s
mythology provided the shrine with a stable and certain source of authority and legitimacy
separate from the imperial mythologies that the deity and its institution seems to have lacked in
its previous legends from before the Kamakura period.
It should likewise be recognized that these sources were compiled after the shrine’s
success and place in the state ritual system were well-established, yet such things were hardly
mentioned by the authors. Those facts must have had insufficient interest for leverage on
potential patrons. Instead, when attempting to find a place of legitimacy within the cultural
imaginary in these years, the Inari cult looked elsewhere. Tanaka Takako has noted that while
thunder and earthquakes and curses might be a great way for kami to communicate their wrath to
humans—and the court histories abound with examples of this—these are not very good for
delivering nuanced messages.
279
Instead, medieval stories began to emphasize more and more the
humanlike qualities of kami, so that they could express subtlety and relationships with humans
that manifested the religious discourses of different institutions. It must be for this reason that
they repeated stories of the kami coming from afar or the involvement of servant foxes. This
indicates that, especially in the late medieval period, the shrine was already attempting to
dislocate itself from its state ritual past and attain a translocal and trans-tradition reputation.
When, like posited by Yamamoto above, the medieval authors looked to put new clothes on Inari
and replace the ancient ones that had been thrown away in its embracing of multiple
personalities, this is how they went about it. In other words, when these authors sought to assure

279
Tanaka Takako, “Torai suru kami to tochaku suru kami 渡来する神と土着する神” in Nihon
no kami 1, 177-208.
130

the success of the Inari cult, they compelled Inari to take on a multiplicity of lives in the
imaginations of their audience.
131

CHAPTER THREE: The Sovereignty of Beasts – Inari, Dakiniten, and Heteromorphic
Sovereignty
The last chapter demonstrated the many lives that Inari came to have in the medieval
imaginations of Japan. These many lives infused Inari with new vigor and allowed the kami to
expand its dominion within the religious landscape. This chapter and the next will investigate a
particular subset of those lives.
When one looks around Japan today at the many Inari shrines dotting the landscape it is
quickly apparent that the Inari deity is firmly associated with the fox. Fox statues guard the
entrance to the Fushimi Inari shrine of Kyoto in much the same way that lion statues are set at
the entrances of other kami’s shrines or Buddhist
halls.
280
They also are stationed periodically
along the shrine’s path as one climbs the
mountain (Figure 7). On Mount Inari, there is
almost always a fox statue or two watching you.
The famous Toyokawa Inari 豊川稲荷 shine
even has a “Spirit Fox Hill 霊狐坂” behind its
main structures that is the true destination for

280
Strictly speaking, often these “lions” are komainu 狛犬, a mythical dog-like animal. If the
creature has a single horn on its head, it is definitely a komainu, but otherwise it is difficult to distinguish
one from the other today as there is no longer a well-defined pattern for the casting or sculpting of these
guardians. However, it is also quite possible that the idea of a komainu developed based upon uncertainty
about what type of an animal a lion is and sometimes lions were thought to be a variety of dog. In any
case, the practice of placing these animals arrived in Japan during the Heian period by way of Goryeo,
although it is widely thought to have originated with practices in India and the Middle East. Originally
these were for temples, but they now are also commonly found in front of shrines. Mochizuki, 1295-1296.
Figure 7. A fox statue along the paths of Mount
Inari. Photo by author. 2017.
132

tourists and pilgrims alike (Figure 8). As one
wanders through the streets of any city in
Japan, the first sign that a roadside shrine or
sub-shrine is a shrine of Inari is that it
possesses small stone statues of foxes. This is
why when I bring up the topic of my research
in Japan, many people, even scholars, most
readily think of Inari as the kami of foxes.
Yet, as shown in the previous chapter, foxes likely do not enter the religious repertoire of
the Inari cult until the late Heian or early Kamakura periods. They certainly are not prominent
until stories of Inari-Myōbu become widespread. While the origins of this relationship remain a
matter for speculation, it is clear that an increase in the prevalence of the association between
Inari and foxes coincided with the development of another important relationship: the association
between Inari and Dakiniten, a Buddhist goddess with connections to esoteric and tantric ritual
traditions.
In Chapter One, it was made clear that as a member of the state-ritual and Twenty-Two
Shrine-Temple multiplexes system Buddhist rites were used in veneration of the Inari kami and
that there is evidence that the administration of the Inari shrine’s properties were sometimes
overseen by Tōji. The last chapter likewise demonstrated how Inari’s identity was reformed in
mythologies of the medieval period to firmly tie the deity with the temple of Tōji and make the
kami a guardian of Buddhism in general. Some of those mythologies are the same that built up
the identity of Inari with Myōbu, so the connection with foxes was already quite strong in these
vernacular Buddhist narratives. Publicly, the Inari cult was thoroughly associated with Buddhist
Figure 8. Spirit Fox Hill at Toyokawa Inari. Photo by
Author. 2019.
133

traditions and practices. At the same time, Inari’s presence in the esoteric world of medieval
Buddhist rituals was defined by the kami’s association with Dakiniten and rituals wherein
Dakiniten was the primary deity of veneration. Such rituals became a crucial component of
discourses related to the esoteric accession rites of the emperor and Buddhist conceptions of
royal sovereignty. It is this esoteric version of Inari that I will focus on below. In the process, I
will demonstrate that Inari’s association with foxes was most efficacious when properly situated
within a culture of heteromorphic sovereignty.

A Wide Spreading Mythos
Most of this chapter and the next will be devoted to texts that would have been circulated
primarily within elite Shingon and Tendai Buddhist institutions. However, make no mistake, the
esoteric Buddhist doctrinal and ritual concerns that follow planted deep and wide spreading roots
in the literary imaginations of medieval Japanese authors. A number of medieval vernacular tales
allude to the prominence of Dakiniten, foxes, and her powers. Within the fourteenth century’s
Taiheiki 太平記 there are two stories of a heterodox priest named “Shi’ichi jōnin 志⼀上⼈”
who performs the “Rites of Dakiniten” to provide benefits to the Ashikaga and Horikawa
families.
281
There is a story in the sixth scroll of the late thirteenth century Kokonchōmonjū that
tells of how after Fujiwara Tadazane (藤原忠実, 1078-1162) performed “Rites of Dakini,” the

281
The two instances occur in the 26
th
scroll in the section called “The Behavior of the Retainer
Myōkichi 妙吉侍者行跡の事” and in the 36
th
scroll in the section titled “Shi’ichi jōnin’s Performance of
the Rites of Dakiniten 志⼀上⼈吒祇尼天の法行ふ事.” See pages 311 of volume 3 and 237 of volume 4
of Taiheiki. On these stories and Dakiniten, see Nishioka Yoshifumi, “Dakinihō no seiritsu to tenkai,” Ake
31, (1987): 167.
134

tail of a fox who had come to visit him was enshrined as the physical form of a “Fukutenjin (福
天神 Deity of Fortune).”
282
And, concerning the matter of Taira no Kiyomori’s continuous good
fortune, there is the following story from the Genpei jōsuiki 源平盛衰記:
One time, [Kiyomori] was at Rendaino and chased down a large fox. With bow in hand, he drew
back an arrow and was prepared to shoot, however the fox swiftly transformed into a girl, and,
smiling, turned around to face him.
283
She said to him, ‘if you save my life, I will grant your
wishes.’ Kiyomori un-nocked his arrow and asked, “what sort of person are you?” She answered,
“I am the King in the midst of Seventy-Four Roads 七十四道の中の王.” “Then you are the
Noble Fox Heavenly King 貴狐天王,” Kiyomori said. He then dismounted from his horse and
bowed reverently. The woman again changed into her original form of a fox, cried out ‘kō! kō!’
and disappeared.

Kiyomori pondered, ‘My lack of riches is surely the work of Kōjin. While I could appease Kōjin
and receive riches, he does not compete with Benzaiten. The Noble Fox Heavenly King just now
must have been one of the Benzaiten. In that case therefore, I am a person who should fulfill the
rites of Dakiniten.” Yet, while practicing those rites, again he returned to pondering, “Truly, one
who completes a heterodox rite, their fortune will not pass to their descendants. What should I
do? But enough, rather than living a long life as a poor person such as I am now, even though
only temporarily, I will become rich and elevate my name.” He then performed [the rites of
Dakiniten.]
284

This story of Kiyomori presented the rites of Dakiniten as being of certain efficacy but
heterodox, and therefore dangerous and wild. It also brought in a whole constellation of deities to
be connected with this fox that Kiyomori had met in a field.
While Inari is not explicitly named in any of the stories just noted above, the Genpei
jōsuiki, Kokonchōmonjū, and Taiheiki are roughly contemporaneous with the Keiranshūyōshū,
Inariki, and Inari ichiryū daiji. As noted in the previous chapter, all these sources describe ties

282
See Kokonchōmonjū, scroll 6, KT 15, 265. A translation of this story can be found in Royall
Tyler, trans., Japanese Tales (New York: Pantheon Books, 1987), 63-64.
283
The Konoe version of the text identifies the girl simply as tōnyo 童⼥, which could suggest any
sort of young woman. The Seikadō variant instead identifies the girl as a “yellow woman (⻩⼥クワウ),”
however the meaning of such an address is uncertain.
284
Translated from text as reproduced in Mizuhara Hajime, Shintei Genpei jōsuiki, vol. 1 (Tokyo:
Shin Jinbutsu Ōraisha, 1988), 106.
135

between Dakiniten and Inari. The Inariki and Keiranshūyōshū in particular both indicate that
Dakiniten’s rituals were best performed on the summits of Mount Inari. The Shintōshu 神道集
also supports this.
285
Such claims then further make it clear that Inari’s relationship with
Dakiniten was a fundamental element of some of Inari’s repertoires in medieval Japan. In the
language of the previous chapter, Dakiniten should be understood as another life that Inari lived
within some medieval imaginations. With that in mind, additionally this chapter will consider: in
what ways specifically is the relationship between Inari and Dakiniten significant?

On the Origins of Dakiniten
Prince Shukaku’s (守覚法親王, 1150-1202) Kitanoin omuro shūyōshū 北院御室拾要集
(also called the Gyoki 御記), completed around 1180, described the guardian of Tōji in the
following way:
The Matter of Tōji’s Yashajin

After Great Teacher [Kūkai] arrived, in the Western Hall he presented [his disciple Jichie] with
various teachings. Matarajin was one of these. The Great Teacher said that this temple has a
wondrous deity. It is called the Yashajin. Matarajin is precisely this [deity]. As for its abilities, it
is a deity that informs of good and bad omens. Its form has three faces and six arms. Those three
faces are three devas. The middle face is gold of color. The left face is white of color. The right
face is red of color. The middle is Shōten. The left is Dakini[ten]. The right is Benzai[ten]. Every
month on the fifteen day we should propitiate this [deity]. This deity is replete with great
compassion and does not generate injury. They eliminate disasters and bestow fortune. The
Tenchō records [of Kūkai] state that Tōji has a guardian deva. It is the messenger of Inari myōjin.
It is called the messenger deity of the Great Mind of Enlightenment.
286

285
Shintōshū 神道集. ST, Bungaku-hen ⽂学編 1. Cf. Ariga Natsuki, “Shintōshū kan san Inari
daimyōjin koto ni okeru hyōgen wo megutte: Dakiniten shinkō no chūshin ni juyō,” Jinbun 13 (2014): 59-
71.
286
Kitanoin omuro shūyōshū in ZGR 28, 203-204. Of course, the Tenchō years (824-834)
correspond to the same time period during which Inari was unhappy that Tōji had taken some of the
mountain’s trees in Chapter One.
136

This is the oldest known record to explicitly state an association between Inari and Dakiniten.
Here Dakiniten was only one third of the guardian deity named Matarajin 摩多羅神 or Yashajin
夜叉神. They were also not the same deity as Inari and were rather presented as a servant or
subordinate to the kami. However, Dakiniten quickly became a prominent goddess in her own
right, and she would change from being only a messenger of Inari to becoming another identity
of Inari.
The significance of the association between Inari and Dakiniten has been a matter of
modern academic concern for the past several decades. As noted in the Introduction, the interest
in this topic primarily developed out of the work of Gorai Shigeru. Gorai in his examination of
the Inari cults went so far as to argue that much of the substance of Inari traditions as we now
know them most likely stem from Inari’s association with Dakiniten and Buddhist traditions.
287

In fact, Gorai argued that popular Inari traditions involving fortune telling, foxes, spirit
possession, spirit pacification, and other like things all are at least partially Buddhist in character.
The festivals of Inari that will be studied in Chapter Five have definite Buddhist characteristics.
Most importantly for this chapter and the next, Gorai pointed out that there are several kami
known for providing oracles through messenger spirits or animals, but Inari’s messengers hold
the peculiar quality of usually being viewed as potentially dangerous. Dakiniten’s presence and
association with Inari in the medieval imaginary would explain that potential. Additionally, two
of the most common forms of fox statue at Inari shrines are those that hold a scroll in their
mouths and those that hold a jewel. If you look closely at Figure 8, you will notice that many of

287
Gorai Shigeru, Inari shinkō no kenkyū, especially 8+31-37+78-86. See also Takahashi Wataru,
“Inari to Dakiniten,” Ake 31, (1987): 25-34, and Ōwa, “Akomachi Konokomachi to dakini: Inari shinkō
no ichi sokumen,” 48-64.
137

these statues have scrolls or jewels in their mouths. This scroll is a scroll of Dakiniten’s secret
teachings. The jewel is a wish-fulfilling jewel (如意宝珠 nyoihōju), or cintāmaṇi, which is often
connected with the goddess. Gorai posits that these traditions too stem from Inari’s early
identification with Dakiniten. To fully illuminate the repertoire of Dakiniten that was bound up
with Inari in the previous sources, I will first highlight the important aspects of Dakiniten’s
history.
Dakiniten as an individual goddess originated in Japan.
288
There are many questions and
mysteries regarding the history of Dakiniten. Prior to this, in Indian traditions, there were
demonesses called ḍākinīs who were half-bird, half-human flying creatures that were part of the
retinue of the goddess Kālī. These ḍākinīs are considered to have been something like other more
common varieties of demons such as rākṣasa and yakṣa.
289
Iyanagi Nobumi has examined
closely how these flying ḍākinīs sometimes appear in images of Śiva’s defeat of the asura king
Andhaka. In that conflict, Kālī had been summoned to help prevent the blood of Andhaka from
touching the ground, as each drop that landed would simply turn into another copy of the asura
king. The ḍākinīs fed on flesh and blood, and they hoped to swoop in and obtain some of

288
Dakiniten has captured the imagination of several scholars over the years. Bernard Faure has
recently published a chapter on Dakiniten within his Gods of Medieval Japan: Vol. 2 Protectors and
Predators (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2016), 117-162. This remains the most extensive
description of the Goddess in English. For other foundational studies see Abe Yasurō, “Hōju to ōken –
chūsei ōken to mikkyō girei,” in Nihon shisō 2, 115-169; Tanaka Takako, Gehō to Aihō no chūsei
(Tōkyō: Sunagoya Shobō, 1993), 201-273; Iyanaga Nobumi, “Dākinī et l’Empereur: Mystique
bouddhique de la royauté dans le Japon médiéval,” Versus: Quaderni di studi semiotici 83-84 (1999): 41-
111; Iyanaga Nobumi, Daikokuten hensō (Kyōto: Hōzōkan, 2002), 101-136; Allan G. Grapard, “Of
Emperors and Foxy Ladies,” Cahiers d’Extrême-Asie 13 (2002): 127-149; Iyanaga Nobumi, “’Human
Yellow’ and Magical Power in Japanese Medieval Tantrism and Culture” in Andreeva and Steavu (2015):
344-419; and Yamamoto, 2018, 281-363. These works have been the inspiration for much of what I have
written in this section and the next.
289
The name of Yashajin 夜叉神, the other identity of Matarajin, likely is derived from yakṣa
(yasha 夜叉 or 藥叉).
138

Andhaka’s power for their own.
290
In this story, the ḍākinīs already appear to possess some of the
qualities that are later prevalent in Dakiniten’s repertoire: they are demon-like creatures with an
appetite for blood, but also may participate in the pacifying of other demons or threats.
In China, there are commentaries that add new layers to the identity of the ḍākinīs. The
demonesses are imported along with Buddhist teachings and other elements of Indian culture.
While in India, ḍākinīs were a variety of creature that appeared in the mythologies of varied
traditions, in China they were tightly woven into Buddhist teachings and were conceived of as
primarily Buddhist entities. In the fourth scroll of the Mahāvairocana sutra when all manner of
bodhisattvas and beings present their dhāraṇī of power, after the rākṣasa, the ḍākinīs presented
their dhāraṇī as “hrīḥ haḥ.”
291
In the tenth fascicle of Yixing’s (⼀行, 683-727) commentary on
the Mahāvairocana sutra (⼤⽇經疏 Darijing shu, T 1796), the author explained that there are
people in the world who can use the rites of ḍākinī to foretell someone’s death six months prior,
and can take from people a substance called “human yellow (⼈⻩ ninnō)” that if consumed
grants the person great psychic attainments.
292
This commentary also teaches that the ḍākinīs had
been subjugated by Mahāvairocana and turned into guardians of the Dharma. Mahāvairocana
transformed into Mahākāla, the same form assumed by Śiva when he conquered Andhaka, and
began to consume the ḍākinīs—effectively outperforming the demonesses at their own specialty.
The ḍākinīs pleaded with Mahāvairocana for mercy. Eventually they reach an agreement wherein
the buddha teaches the ḍākinīs how to know when a human will die six months prior to their

290
Iyanaga, Daikokuten hensō, 312-322. In many images of the defeat of Andhaka, Śiva appears
in the form of Mahākāla 摩訶迦羅, the “Great Black One (Daikokuten ⼤⿊天),” which is also quite a
fearsome form of the Indian god.
291
T 848, 30a.
292
T 1796, 687b-c.
139

death and how to take their flesh without killing them. Some texts teach that if a person performs
rites of ḍākinīs, they can force the demonesses to bring to the lifeforce that they have taken from
another person and add it to that of the practitioner, providing them with long life and special
powers.
Also, instead of winged creatures, in Chinese commentaries ḍākinīs came to be
associated with foxes and other beasts of the ground, although they do retain the ability to fly.
This connection may have happened because they were counted among the retinue of King
Yama of the Underworld and in the commentary on the Mahāvairocana sutra foxes were also
included in his retinue.
293
In the Śūraṃgama sutra (首楞嚴經, T 945) they are glossed as
“demons of foxes and enchantment 狐魅⻤.”
294
Many later texts will label them as yegan (野干,
Jp. yakan), a translation used for “jackal.” Foxes are not native to India and if early Buddhist
texts imported to China were comparing ḍākinīs to a canine beast, foxes would be a much more
likely case for comparison than jackals.
295

In any case, ḍākinīs quickly mix in with the rich fox lore of China.
296
As foxes grow
older, they were thought to gain great powers. They would change in appearance according to
their spiritual attainments. After one thousand years passed their fur would turn white and they
would come to have nine tails. At that point they would be nearly invincible and omnipotent.
Now, it is not the case that all foxes were considered evil or dangerous. Foxes in the world exist

293
T 1796, 744a.
294
T 945, 135b.
295
Of course, in the case of real-life jackals and foxes, the two animals strongly resemble one
another.
296
See Michael Strickmann, Chinese Magical Medicine, eds. Bernard Faure (Stanford: Stanford
University Press, 2002), 262-281, and Kang, 14-43.
140

at the edge of human society, and as is befitting liminal creatures they possessed ambivalent
natures in Chinese imaginations.
Foxes could be considered good omens. For instance, in the Shiji 史記 (ca. 94 BCE), a
white, nine-tailed fox appeared before King Tang (mythological, 1617-1588 BCE) of the Shang
dynasty (c. 1600-1046 BCE) to herald his ascension of the throne. While not described in written
sources, white foxes also appear in artwork as members of the retinue of the Queen Mother of
the West (⻄王⺟ Xiwangmu).
297
Foxes were shapeshifters and might take the form of a man or
woman to act as a loyal spouse.
However, by far the most prominent picture of fox spirits in Chinese literature is that of a
dangerous and fearsome creature. Michael Strickmann has discussed how foxes were involved in
a number of prominent tantric rituals that relied on shamans and fox possession. He notes that
foxes were feared for causing diseases and suggests that the idea may stem from the very real
danger of rabies.
298
Kang Xiaofei has likewise described how foxes were thought to serve as
mounts for ghosts or other evil spirits who would ride around atop the beasts and spread disease
and mischief. Poets such as Bai Juyi (⽩居易, 772-846) wrote of the dangers of foxes
transforming into beautiful women and enchanting men.
299
As Kang points out, in legends foxes
were defeated by Buddhist monks, Daoist masters, and government officials: they were an
animal that might readily be declared an enemy for anyone. Most dangerously, foxes were
creatures that possessed the ability to subvert the natural order of things. In the cosmic
understanding of yin and yang, the fox was a creature of yin, but through the performance of

297
Cahill, 25.
298
Strickmann, 267.
299
Bai Juyi ji, 4.87-88. Translated in Kang, 20-21.
141

rituals they could use the flesh or blood and skull of a human to become a human being
themselves, resulting in their transformation into a creature of yang. There are also legends of
fox spirits such as Da Ji 妲己 who beguiled the last king of the Shang dynasty and brought about
its end. This capacity for foxes to control and subvert the order of the world is likely the most
important feature to become tied to ḍākinīs or Dakiniten in the medieval Japanese imagination.
300

When ḍākinīs arrive in Japan, they carry all this lore that they had accumulated in China
and India.
301
Yixing’s commentary and the Śūraṃgama sūtra were prominent enough that they
may well have been encountered by Kūkai when he journeyed to China at the beginning of the
ninth century. They also appear in many important mandalas. Continuing the precedent began
with Yixing’s commentary, in the Womb World Maṇḍala (胎藏界曼荼羅 Taizōkai mandara),
ḍākinīs are depicted on the southeastern corner in the court of King Yama. In this work they are
represented by three women with wild hair, bared breasts, and fangs dripping with blood as they
feast on the corpse of a human. This connection with Yama and the realm of the underworld,
perhaps a symptom of their ability to foretell the death of humans, is persistent in Japan. They
also appear in his retinue for the mandala used in the large-scale exorcism ritual of the Nakatomi
harae 中臣祓 of the twelfth century.
302

300
A similar story can be found in Japan. The tale of Tamamo no mae 玉藻前 enchanting the
retired emperor Toba (鳥羽法皇, 1103-1156, r. 1107-1123) appeared in numerous forms through the
fifteenth to nineteenth centuries. For a retelling and discussion of these tales, see Keller Kimbrough and
Haruo Shirane, Monsters, Animals, and Other Worlds: A Collection of Short Medieval Japanese Tales
(New York Chichester, West Sussex: Columbia University Press, 2018), 348-370.
301
For a broad study of foxes in Japanese literature, see Bathgate, The Fox’s Craft in Japanese
Religion and Folklore. The discussion that follows will only touch on limited parts of the fox or kitsune
lore.
302
Mark J. Teeuwen and Hendrik van der Veere, Nakatomi Harae Kunge: Purification and
Enlightenment in Late-Heian Japan (München: Iudicium, 1998), 69.
142

Dakiniten in Japan
However, something important changes as the image of ḍākinīs evolve in Japan. In
mandalas drawn by the monks Chōen (澄圓 1016-1081) and Kakujin (覚乗 1012-1081), only a
single ḍākinī appears with Yama.
303
Furthermore, this demoness now has straight hair, wears
traditional Japanese clothing, and is holding some sort of a bag. No blood or dismembered
bodies are to be seen. To complete the transformation from a generic ḍākinī demoness into a
proper esoteric goddess, the Chinese character for a celestial deva (天 ten) is appended to her
name. Her appearance is no longer savage and she might be mistaken for a courtier, but that she
is usually carrying a sword and a wish-fulfilling jewel while riding upon a white fox. It is in this
form that Dakiniten becomes combined with Inari. The problem of identification and names is
not new to the study of Inari and Inari’s associations with the goddess and rakshasa Dakiniten.
There is for instance a late Kamakura mandala that depicts Inari-Dakiniten now known as the

303
Faure, Protectors and Predators, 119.
143

“Fushimi Inari Mandara 伏⾒稲荷曼陀羅” (Figure
9).
304
This is one of the earliest known depictions
of a Dakiniten mandala and gained substantial
attention in the art world for that reason.
305

Originally it was examined and described as a
“Dakini Mandala 吒枳尼天曼荼羅.” However,
after an analysis based upon its iconography,
Shirohara Yukiko in 1999 argued that the image
should rather be called the “Fushimi Inari
Mandala.”
306
Shirohara Yukiko’s article was
successful, and the image has now become known
as the “Fushimi Inari Mandara” in further
publications since that time. Yet, the image bears
such similarities to the various descriptions of the
main deity and her four main attendants as found
in numerous ritual texts for Dakiniten- and Inari-
related rituals that disputes of her identity as either
Dakiniten or Inari might be moot.
307
Rather this

304
This image is currently kept at the Suntory Museum of Tokyo, although it is part of a private
collection.
305
Cf. Hayashi On, “‘Dakiniten’ mandara ni tsuite,” Ars Buddhica, no. 217 (November 1994): 92-
109.
306
Cf. Shirohara Yukiko, “‘Fushimi Inari Mandara’ kō: kojinhon ‘Dakiniten mandara’ ni taisuru
iken,” MUSEUM 560 (1999): 7-23.
307
These rituals will be the specific purview of the next chapter.
Figure 9. “Fushimi Inari Mandara.” Late
Kamakura Period. Private Collection. Suntory
Museum. Photo reproduced from Shirohara 1999.
144

goddess may also be realistically called both Inari and Dakiniten. Distinctions between the two
are often tenuous. Indeed, at Toyokawa Inari, also known as Myōgonji 妙厳寺 of the Zen Sōtō
school 曹洞宗, Dakiniten is still today recognized as the main deity. Many Inari shrines trace
their origins back to the end of the Edo period and the efforts of Toyokawa Inari to expand the
cult.
308
Likewise, it is this form that appears in ritual practices for lineages within the Nichiren,
Zen, Jōdo, Tendai, and Shingon schools.
309

By the beginning of the fourteenth century, Dakiniten has become a sufficiently
important deity to warrant her own section in the Keiranshūyōshū.
310
In a passage entitled
“Secrets of Dakiniten (吒枳尼天祕決 Dakiniten hiketsu)” from the year 1318, Kōshū provided a
variety of details about the goddess and her role in the world.
311
He claimed to have compiled
secret and oral transmissions about Dakiniten from the likes of Kūkai; Saichō; Prince Shōtoku
(聖徳太子 574-622), the legendary original proponent of Buddhism in Japan; and Ennin 圓仁
(794-864), abbot of Enryakuji 延暦寺 and founder of the Tendai Sanmon school 天台⼭門.
Kōshū began with her origins:
Long ago, during the time of the Candra-sūrya-pradīpa Buddha ⽇月燈明佛, in the south there
was Koda mountain 古吒⼭. The people of that mountain numbered 13,758. At that time, the
Great Sage Mañjuśrī ⼤聖⽂殊 received the instructions of the Tathagata, went to that place, and

308
Gorai, 94.
309
Gorai, 78-103.
310
The Keiran shūyōshū was compiled between 1311 and 1347. This vast, encyclopedic work
contains the accumulated knowledge of Kōshū’s studies at Mount Hiei. While it shows a marked
preference for Tendai school and Sannō Shintō teachings, Kōshū claims to provide information from
other schools as well.
311
T 2410, 631c-633c.
145

taught the Buddha's teachings to end the suffering of the people there. Today's children of
Dakiniten are these disciples.
312

The buddha mentioned here is also known as Candrârkadīpa 燈明佛, who is said to have
preached the sermon of the Lotus Sutra many kalpas before the historical Buddha. Mañjuśrī is
the great bodhisattva of wisdom, and particularly active within the esoteric traditions.
Throughout the “Secrets of Dakiniten,” Dakiniten is frequently related to Mañjuśrī and the Lotus
Sutra. This appears to be Kōshū’s primary mechanism for explaining the goddess. Dakiniten is
called a “provisional manifestation (化現 kagen) of Mañjuśrī.
313
Their relationship is explained
as embodying the two divisions of the Lotus Sutra: the divisions of Original and Derivative
Nature (本迹⼆門 honjaku nimon).
314
In this schema, the first half of the sūtra is called the
Derivative section 迹門 and explains the historical Buddha as one who is bound by their
existence within history. The second half is the section on Original Nature 本門 and reveals that
the Buddha is able to transcend the limits of space and time. In the same way, Dakiniten is a
derivative of Mañjuśrī, but also an existence that transcends and is eternal. In relation to that
transcendence, she is also Sarvasattvojahārī 奪⼀切衆生精氣, one of the ten rākṣasīs who
protect the Lotus Sutra.
315

312
T 2410, 631c. This translation and all translations from the Keiran shūyōshū are my own.
313
T 2410, 632a.
314
Charles Muller, “本迹⼆門,” DDB.
315
T 262, 59a. Sarvasattvojahārī is the tenth of the named rākṣasīs, who, along with Hāritī and her
children, declare they will defend the sūtra.
146

As for her character and qualities, Kōshū claimed that she is the essence of the Dharma
Realm and therefore also named Shindamaniju 眞荼摩尼珠.
316
This is of course to say that
Dakiniten is a wish-fulfilling jewel or cintāmaṇi, which is further identified as her primary
symbol. He agreed with the Kitanoin omuro shūyōshū and identified Dakiniten with Matarajin,
while simultaneously asserting an identity with Mahākāla.
317
Shortly afterwards, the author
wrote that Inari is recognized as a manifestation of the goddess in secret writings. Importantly,
Kōshū also acknowledged her beastly nature. Here this was something to be exalted and he
wrote: “those who drink blood and wear horns are precisely the Spontaneous and Unchanging
Mahāvairocana.”
318
Dakiniten is a majestic deva on the surface, but still a demoness in nature.

Heteromorphic Sovereignty
Part of what has often made Dakiniten a subject of modern scholarship is that for nearly
seven hundred years she was invoked in rituals for the enthronement of Japan’s emperors. More
on that below. First, why would a goddess such as this be widely popular in medieval Japan?
How can we explain her consistent presence in materials related to imperial accession rites? An
important part of the answer to these questions is precisely Dakiniten’s quality of being one who
drinks blood and wears horns. In other words, it was her apparent strangeness and ferocity that
makes her a deity fit for overseeing the enthronement of a Japanese ruler. As a rākṣasa and
goddess who rides a fox, Dakiniten—and, by extension, Inari—provided an extreme amount of
what scholars have termed “heteromorphic sovereignty (igyō no ōken 異形の王権),” or a

316
T 2410, 631c.
317
T 2410, 632c-633a.
318
T 2410, 632b-c.
147

“sovereignty of the strange.” Indeed, the rites of Dakiniten figure prominently in discussions of
scholars such as Amino Yoshihiko, Abe Yasurō, Tanaka Takako, and Yamamoto Hiroko on the
subject of this heteromorphic sovereignty.
319
Their examinations of medieval sources show that a
vibrant discourse of this sovereignty infused the Japanese imaginary and constituted a particular
cultural current.
“Heteromorphic sovereignty” is the notion that Japanese emperors and other emperor-like
figures in the medieval period were in part attributed with their sovereignty and legitimacy
through association with many practices or traditions that otherwise seemed to transgress societal
norms. These transgressions may range from actions as apparently benign as wearing clothing
that did not match court protocols or using court spaces in unprecedented ways to more extreme
actions that violated taboos regarding blood, sex, or violence. This concept has much in common
with ideas about liminality as supported by Victor Turner and others.
320
According to Turner,
while there may be clear expectations for how a member of a hierarchy or society will act, the
person or being who stands at the top of that hierarchy is a liminal existence that has authority to
legitimately transgress those expectations. Conversely, one who does transgress or contravene
the societal norms can appear to have sufficient power so as to be a high authority within a
hierarchy or an existence on the border of that hierarchy. Heteromorphic sovereignty likewise
contains the notion that one who exists on the edge of society or can freely transgress taboos
must have special authority.

319
The following paragraphs are heavily indebted to their scholarship. For Tanaka Takako’s,
Yamamoto Hiroko’s, and one of Abe Yasurō works, refer to footnote 288. See also, Abe Yasurō, Yuya no
kōgō, and Amino Yoshihiko, Amino Yoshihiko, Igyō no ōken (Tōkyō: Heibonsha, 1986). The most
extensive study of this and related discourses in English is David Bialock’s Eccentric Spaces, Hidden
Histories.
320
See particularly Victor Turner, The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure (Ithaca, New
York: Cornell University Press, 1969).
148

While similar ideologies can be found elsewhere, the particularities of the Japanese case
are what interest us here. In regard to the “powers of the heteromorphic (igyō no chikara 異形の
力),” Amino Yoshihiko has described the various ways in which particular types of clothing and
accessories may have been used as symbols by authors and artists to imbue the figures of people
such as mountain ascetics (yamabushi), Zen monks, outcastes (hinin), and others with a
strangeness that demonstrated their sacrality or extraordinary abilities.
321
For instance, Amino
and Orikuchi Shinbō note that in literature of the medieval period the sedge raincoat and hat may
act as “transformative clothing (hensō fukusō 変相服装)” that marked the wearer as kami, divine
visitors from far places, and changelings.
322
The sedge raincoat and hat were the clothing of
travelers. In an age when most people’s movements were heavily restricted by laws, the ability to
travel from place to place as demarked by such clothing might certainly have inspired curiosity
or awe. Likewise, the fact that the person’s face and form would be largely obstructed by the
coat and hat may additionally inspire suspicion. The fundamental claim here by Amino is that
within the sources we have from medieval Japan, those with inherent unusual abilities and
authorities were frequently marked by something externally unusual or strange. Furthermore,
those who wanted such authorities for themselves could take and wear that sort of strangeness.
By the end of the Kamakura period, there were Japanese sovereigns who clearly did just this.
What is most readily apparent in the extant literature is the use of motifs and discourses
about this sovereignty of the strange by authors to explain the ritual efficacy of emperors and
other practitioners. Such discourses were deployed in attempts to mythologize these figures and

321
Amino, see especially Part two, Chapter one, “Minokasa to kakitobari: ikki no ishō, 96-116.
322
Amino, 106-108. This example stems from Orikuchi’s work but is elaborated and expanded by
Amino.
149

do not necessarily depict the nature of the individuals or how they were received within their
own lives. Rather, the discourses were the product of efforts to control or re-evaluate the legacies
of powerful figures after their death. Yet, these discourses have sharp claws and strong grips, and
to be sure, the narratives have long affected our reception of various infamous characters such as
the monk Monkan, who will be discussed below. At the same time, there is ample indication that
these discourses were not simply literary embellishment and that from time-to-time rulers and
others embraced this culture of strangeness in the assertions of their authority.
This sort of mythologization is evident in the legends written about emperors such as
Kazan (花⼭天皇, 968-1008, r. 984-986).
323
Emperor Kazan is often depicted as eccentric or
outrageous in his behavior. Works such as the twelfth century Gōdanshō 江談抄 and the
thirteenth century Kojidan 古事談 tell stories of how, on the day of his enthronement, when he
was on the high throne and waiting for the rituals to proceed, Kazan was behind the curtain
having sex with the poet Uma no Naishi (⾺内侍, dates unknown). After retiring from the throne
and becoming a monk, he continued to be well-known for having affairs. As an example of
another kind of oddness, the twelfth century Ōkagami ⼤鏡 claims that at the time of the Kamo
festival, Kazan strung orange-like citrus fruits on a string and used these as his prayer beads. At
the same time, alongside critiques of this sort of behavior, the Ōkagami also extols his ability as

323
Following discussion is based on Abe Yasurō, “Hōju to ōken – chūsei ōken to mikkyō girei,”
116-121. Abe also suggests that emperors Yōzei (陽成天皇, 869-949, r. 876-884) and Reizei (冷泉天皇,
926-967, r. 946-967) are good examples of how stories married royal authority and wildness.
150

an esoteric master, citing impressive displays at Senri-no-hama and Mount Hiei.
324
Works such
as the Genpei jōsuiki and the Kumanosan ryakuki 熊野⼭略記 record that while in seclusion at
Mount Kumano, Kazan was given a wish-fulfilling jewel as proof of his sovereignty and esoteric
authority. In this way, medieval works abound with stories that presented emperors as both
eccentric and wild, or perhaps insane, while simultaneously true holders of authority, so that the
two qualities were inextricably linked.
325

Seeds for this discourse of heteromorphic sovereignty may also be found as early as the
Nihon shoki.
326
In the ninth section of the scroll covering the age of the kami, the famous descent
of Ninigi 瓊瓊杵尊, the grandson of Amaterasu and the ancestor of the imperial family, is
described. As it depicts Ninigi’s crossing from one domain into another in the course of taking
his new position as the ruler of the land of Japan, this descent is full of unusual happenings. At a
crossroads in the middle of his path down from the Heavens, Ninigi came face-to-face with a
particularly strange deity. For the description of the kami, the authors wrote that “its nose was
over one meter in length. The height of its back was just over nineteen meters. Its lips shone and
its eyes were ablaze like the divine mirror.”
327
Faced with this deity of fearsome appearance,
Ninigi turns to the goddess Ame no Uzume 天鈿⼥ and tasks her with confronting the guardian

324
Senri-no-hama 千里の浜 is an expansive beach located at the southern edge of the Kii
peninsula and along the old pilgrimage path to the Kumano shrine. It was renowned for its beauty within
many works of literature.
325
While outside of the concerns of this dissertation, of course similar cultures of eccentric
authority were developed around many other groups in East Asia, such as siddhis in India or xianren in
China. Some of those traditions contributed to the developments in Japan.
326
This discussion follows Abe Yasurō, Yuya no kōgō: chūsei to seinaru mono (Nagoya: Nagoya
daigaku shuppankai, 1998), 280-282.
327
The nose was seven ata 咫, or one hundred and twenty-six centimeters. The back was seven
shaku 尺 and seven jin 尋, or one thousand nine hundred and nine centimeters.
151

of the crossroads. Before the giant deity, Ame no Uzume exposes her breasts and takes the sash
of her clothing down below her navel.
328
Following this display, the crossroads deity introduces
itself as Sarutahiko Ōkami 猿⽥彦⼤神, submits to Ninigi, and leads them down to the land of
Japan. Abe Yasurō argues that we should view Ame no Uzume’s sexuality as acting like a spell
to subdue Sarutahiko and accomplish the crossing of an otherwise uncrossable boundary. Of
course, as Ame no Uzume and Sarutahiko become the servants and guides of Ninigi, their
powers of sexuality and fearsomeness are both Ninigi’s as well. Here, while the strangeness of
the authority is not emphasized, the emperor’s sovereignty is still closely bound to
heteromorphic powers.
These bonds are made more explicit and were certainly embraced during the medieval
period. According to Amino, the emperor Go Daigo (後醍醐天皇, 1288-1339, r. 1318-1339)
was the exemplar par excellence of heteromorphic sovereignty.
329
It also happens that the
enthronement rituals that will occupy most of the rest of this chapter appear to have first been
popularized during his reign. Go Daigo is best known as the emperor who sided with the
Ashikaga to overthrow the Kamakura shogunate and then institute the Kenmu restoration so as to
assert his control of Japan. To whatever extent was possible, Go Daigo mobilized any sort of

328
Of course, these actions by Ame no Uzume are almost the same as the actions she took to draw
Amaterasu out of the heavenly grotto when the sun goddess had decided to hide from the world. Drawing
the sun goddess out changes the world from night to day, and is therefore a different sort of transition. In
both cases, sexuality has been given a deep association with the activity of crossing a limen and so
follows Abe’s assertion that Ame no Uzume’s actions should be understood as having a magic quality.
329
Amino, 160-186. To be certain, Go Daigo’s efforts to transform his reign did not only include a
reliance on tantric rituals and strange dress. Go Daigo was intent on superseding or tearing down any
political structure that limited his authority. He hand-picked loyal officials from low-ranking families,
wrested economic control from different institutions, created new offices, and allied with several
orthodox religious schools. His alliances with individuals such as Monkan were but a part of his work to
consolidate his authority in a largely successful, if momentary, political revolution. See Andrew Edmund
Goble, Kenmu: Go-Daigo’s Revolution (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996).
152

authority and influence—including esoteric spells, unorthodox monks, and unusual retainers—so
as to establish a direct hold on the emperor system. Go Daigo’s embracing of the trappings of
strange sovereignty to consolidate and enhance his position comes during a time when the
position of the emperor and their authority had been heavily truncated by first the Kamakura
shogunate and then the Ashikaga. One of the ways in which Go Daigo attempted to strengthen
his igyō no ōken was by employing irregular groups of people for military strength. Records
from the Kenmu period reveal that armed groups of people, who were not from the warrior class
and even included outcasts (hinin), were moving in and out of Go Daigo’s palaces as his
personal army.
330
His choice to employ such groups was one clear demonstration of his
possession of heteromorphic sovereignty.
331

At the same time, the strangeness of Go Daigo’s sovereignty was exemplified in the ritual
powers to which he and those around him appealed.
332
A portrait preserved at the temple of
Shōjōkōji 清浄光寺 in Fujisawa city depicts Go Daigo in the robes of an esoteric ritualist and
holding a three-pronged vajra. There is a statue of the bodhisattva Mañjuśrī in an eight-syllable,
lion-riding form at the temple of Hannyaji 般若寺 dedicated by Fujiwara Iga Kanemitsu and
Monkan where in its inscription they prayed for Go Daigo to gain the attainments of a
cakravartin (金輪聖主, Jp. konrin jōshu).
333
Notably, Go Daigo would also personally become
involved in the performance of esoteric rituals, which was something that had previously been

330
Amino, 176-179. See also Bialock 218-220.
331
Amino, 180, Of course, Go Daigo was not the only emperor to use such types as fighters. For
instance, the forces of Go Shirakawa (後⽩河天皇, 1127-1192, r. 1155-1158) are said to have used
mendicant priests and vagrants in battle during the Genpei conflicts.
332
Following discussion is based upon Amino, 181-184.
333
Cf. David Quinter, From Outcasts to Emperors (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 195-199. Conceptions of
the cakravartin or “wheel-turning king” will be discussed below.
153

unusual for emperors. He was also not afraid to use ritual warfare for personal gain. For instance,
under the guise of performing rituals for the well-being of the Consort Kishi 中宮禧子 and a safe
birth while she was pregnant, it is widely held that Go Daigo was actually performing rites to
subjugate the shogunate from 1326 to 1329 (Karyaku 嘉暦 1 to Gentoku 元徳 1). Obviously,
this length of time is too long for a natural pregnancy and something else must have been going
on behind the ritual. It is said that Go Daigo personally offered prayers and lit fires during its
course. In the end, the shogunate exiled both Enkan (円観, 1281-1356) and Monkan in
connection with these rites. This use of a dangerous ritual power may well have worried the
Kamakura shogunate.
One more ritual that Go Daigo is known to have performed is thoroughly founded on a
sense of the efficacy of the strange. In 1329, just as the rituals for Consort Kishi were finishing,
he personally performed an offering and prayers in a ritual for Gaṇeśa.
334
Again, it is thought that
he performed these rites to cause damage to the Kamakura shogunate. What is particularly
relevant to our discussion is that the main deity for this set of rites is not a simple statue of
Gaṇeśa, but consists of two versions of the elephant-headed deity locked in an embrace: one a
female version said to be Eleven-headed Kannon and the other a male version of Gaṇeśa
identified as Enma’ō 閻魔王, king of the hells, or Vināyaka 毘那夜迦, lord of obstacles. The
ritual that makes use of this sort of statue was intended to disperse enemies and evil forces.
Rituals of the Dual-Bodied Gaṇeśa had been used by the court to defend the state from the time
of the late Heian period. The main deity is said to require two bodies because the female body of

334
Following discussion is based on Yamamoto 2018, 293-299, and Amino, 184-186. This was a
ritual called the Daijō kangiten yokuyugu ⼤聖歓喜天浴油供.
154

Kannon is understood to calm the violence of the male form of Vināyaka. According to the
Dasheng huanxi shuangshen pinayejiatian xingxiangpin yigui ( 大聖歓喜双身毘那夜迦天形像
品儀軌, T. 1274, Jp. Daishō kangi sōshin binayakaten gyōzōhon giki) the statues of these two
entwined deities would exhibit the six signs of love: 1) the touching of each other’s backs with
their elephant trunks, 2) the joining of chests, 3) the resting of hands on each other’s waists, 4)
the joining of stomachs, 5) the entwining of legs, and 6) the wearing of red clothing that signifies
their love. The Yigui further asserts that those who make such statues and perform the related
rituals are certain to obtain the queen or consorts of the ruler of the lands.
335
This might be
interpreted to mean either that the practitioner would be able to consummate a sexual union with
the consort or that they would attain a position where they could possess such consorts; i.e., they
would rise to the position of being a king themselves. In the case of Go Daigo, Amino posits that
in his use of this ritual, the emperor may have been trying to harness the natural power at the
core of human being and life, i.e., sex, as an element of his own authority.
336
Yamamoto Hiroko
argues that we need to understand this ritual of Go Daigo’s as part of a larger trend of esoteric
practices embraced by royals and aristocrats during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries that
utilized strange forms of dual-bodied, esoteric deities in sexual union to cause cosmic-level and
this-worldly changes.
337
Such rituals should be understood in part to operate by simulating non-
duality through sexual union of male and female and by simulating original enlightenment
through actualizing that non-duality in the original form of the esoteric deities, as opposed to

335
T 1274, 323b.
336
Amino, 186. ⼈間の深奥の自然--セックスそのものの力.
337
Yamamoto 2018, 296-306. Yamamoto places this ritual alongside similar practices that
incorporate a Dual-bodied Bishamonten, where one head is Kichijoten and the other is Tamonten, and a
dual-bodied Aizen myō’ō, with numerous explanations.
155

some sort of cosmic Buddha, and then converting this simulation into a thaumaturgic power to
affect cosmological changes.

Heteromorphic Sovereignty, Dakiniten, and Monkan
While we see little doubt in medieval texts concerning the efficacy of these kinds of
rituals, because of the strange sort of powers involved, there were often questions about the
ethics of such practices. If those who performed rituals of the dual-bodied deities or took on the
semblance of the strange were not well-received by others, they quickly were placed into the far
margins of heterodoxy. To examine this problem, this discussion will turn to look at someone
who has been much more often criticized for their heterodoxy than Go Daigo. The most
infamous member of Go Daigo’s retinue, whose presence was a further foundation for Amino’s
assessment of the emperor’s heteromorphic sovereignty, was the Shingon and Ritsu monk
Monkan (⽂観, 1278-1357).
338
Monkan has already been mentioned in the above and is thought
to have been behind Go Daigo’s deployment of the Gaṇeśa ritual as well as the ritual for Consort
Kishi’s pregnancy. He has long been associated with the lineage of the Tachikawa School and
insinuated as the systematizer of various Tachikawa illicit rituals involving sex and black magic.
It is also here that Dakiniten and foxes will reenter the picture. Monkan has often been associated
with the rites of Dakiniten, and it is necessary to understand the narratives concerning him to
understand the place of Dakiniten rituals in the religious landscape of Japan.
Originally, it was Monkan’s supposed involvement in these numerous heterodox
practices that caused his presence in Go Daigo’s service to be noteworthy. However, the
scholarship of David Quinter has shown that Monkan was likely not a member of the Tachikawa

338
Cf. Amino, 173-184.
156

School and that his religious ideologies were largely orthodox.
339
Yet, there were characteristics
of Monkan that made him an outsider and unusual choice for a close confidant of Go Daigo.
340

This in turn does show Go Daigo’s willingness to utilize those outside of the expected sphere of
an emperor in the interest of enhancing his sovereignty. First, Monkan was not from any
prominent family. This is to say that Monkan is not known to have been supported by any major
aristocratic family or warrior family. Before Monkan became an active ritualist for Go Uda and
Go Daigo, he was a stranger to the court and its society. This was very unusual at the time. This
had the obvious advantage for Go Daigo that Monkan had no competing loyalties to opposing
families or other political blocs. Therefore, Monkan was dependent upon the support of the
emperor to attain higher rank and position. In many ways this worked out well for Monkan who
in quick succession was elevated to numerous positions within Shingon temples through the
favor of Go Daigo.
341
Go Daigo no doubt anticipated that Monkan would bring those institutions
to support the emperor. Unfortunately for Monkan this also meant that he had no additional
backing on which he could rely. Quinter and others suspect that Monkan’s lack of familial
support was one of the major reasons that he came into conflict with leaders of the monastic
community, who were from prestigious families and likely felt he was impinging on their
domain.
Second, Monkan carried himself as a “black-robed” recluse monk. Quinter has
demonstrated convincingly that he maintained his identity as concurrently a Shingon monk and

339
Quinter, Chapter 6 “Double Vision: The "Tachikawa" Monkan and Shingon/Ritsu,”
specifically 209-210. In fact, it is not even clear that the Tachikawa ryū participated in or promoted any
illicit rites that were considered heterodox. Rather their legacy seems to be the product of the monk Yūkai
(宥快 1345-1416) who was a systematizer of orthodox Shingon doctrine and a political opponent of the
Tachikawa lineage. See also, Nobumi Iyanaga, “Secrecy, Sex, and Apocrypha” in Scheid and Teeuwen,
207-219.
340
The following discussion is based upon Quinter, 179-214.
341
Monkan was appointed to be the head monk at Tōji, Daigoji, and Kongōbuji.
157

Ritsu monk. This was not an unusual practice. However, what was unusual was that a recluse
monk would take high-ranking offices in Shingon centers such as Tōji. Indeed, black-robed,
recluse monks derived a large part of their ritual legitimacy by abstaining from the bureaucratic
entanglements that came with being appointed the leader of a monastery or temple. That is,
Monkan as a black-robed monk was supposed to be separate from and outside the regular temple
administrative institutions.
342
It may also be that by choosing to wear the black robes while
taking on his different titles, Monkan wanted to denote himself as being separate from the
mainstream Shingon monks and as carrying a different sort of authority.
Monkan was heavily involved in the performance of esoteric rituals. Besides, those
rituals for Go Daigo noted above, Monkan’s activities can be tied to numerous performances of
Mañjuśrī rites or the production of related artwork. This was the case both before and after
Monkan’s affiliation with Go Daigo. Monkan’s performance of Mañjuśrī rites was related to the
five- and eight-syllable forms of the bodhisattva, and, according to Quinter, very much in line
with state protection rituals performed previously by Eison (叡尊, 1201-1290) and teachings
spread by Saidaiji ⻄⼤寺—and therefore very much orthodox practices.
343
Besides these rituals,
there is no evidence that he was a proponent of the sorts of illicit rituals of which he was later
accused, but his bearing and the trajectory of his life made it easy for both those who maligned
the culture of heteromorphic sovereignty and recognized the powers of such sovereignty to

342
See particularly Quinter, 204.
343
The five- and eight-syllable version of Mañjuśrī reflect different versions of his mantra and
symbolism. David Quinter’s work carefully details how both Eison and Monkan participated in the spread
of Mañjuśrī’s esoteric cult in medieval Japan. This is also not to say that Monkan was not innovative. It
does appear that he introduced new interpretations of relationships between concepts and deities in his
transmissions on the “Three-Deity Combinatory Rites (三尊合行 Sanzon gōgyō).” Cf. Quinter, 225-232.
158

associate Monkan with such traditions and any strangeness prevalent in Go Daigo’s ritual
regimes.
This is precisely how Monkan’s reputation became so infamous. We have already seen
that he was, briefly, exiled after the shogunate-subjugation rituals performed under the guise of
prayers for Consort Kishi’s pregnancy. He also quickly found himself at odds with the monks of
Mount Kōya when he was made head of Kongōbuji in the third month of 1335.
344
Quinter asserts
that the Kōya monks’ true conflict with Monkan was related to his political allegiance and Ritsu
background, however, the missive the monks submitted to the court to overturn his appointment
provided a different set of ostensible reasons for their disagreement:
[Monkan] has learned the calculations of astrology, was enamored of divination, wholeheartedly
studied magical techniques, and practiced mystical efficacy. His lustful mind is excessive and his
conceited thoughts are extreme.
345

The missive goes on to accuse him of “illegitimately” taking on monastic ranks in the “black
robes of a recluse,” desiring fame and fortune, enjoying war and weapons, and being like the
“wild fox” who preached Dharma to Indra in the nature of Monkan’s worship of ḍākinī and
relationship with the emperor. The text says he is “neither on the proper [Shingon] path nor a
recluse.” Needless to say, the qualities for which the monks of Mount Kōya castigate Monkan go
right along with those that fill the mythologies of heteromorphic emperors and the nature of
Dakiniten.
In reality, the missive did little to alter Monkan’s official positions or authority. It also is
not known with certainty whether he actually worshipped ḍākinī, despite the timing being
appropriate and apparent associations between ḍākinī rites and Mañjuśrī rites. This missive may
have been the root of later critiques of Monkan found in vernacular works like the Taiheiki and

344
See Amino, 173-174, and Quinter, 202-205.
345
This is the translation of the Hōkyōshō version of the missive found in Quinter, 202.
159

monastic commentaries such as those written by Yūkai (宥快, 1345-1416) in the Hōkyōshō 宝鏡
鈔 of 1375. It is also unclear here whether ḍākinī rites are inherently heterodox for the monks of
Mount Kōya, or whether only certain versions of the rites are. The earliest critiques of related
rituals are found in the Juhō yōjinshū 受法用心集 of the late thirteenth century, which compared
some ḍākinī rites to heresies of the Tachikawa lineage and wherein the author Shinjō (心定,
dates unknown) specifically derided a ritual involving an image made from a human skull, blood,
and sexual fluids—albeit he did not assert this ritual was of the Tachikawa lineage nor that
ḍākinī worship in general was a problem.
346

It is important to recognize that, while Monkan was maligned in later literature via
associations with heterodox teachings and stories of ḍākinī, the ritual prowess that he was able to
provide for the likes of Go Daigo was not claimed to be impotent. Rather these trappings of
strange sovereignty have been labeled dangerous. As Tanaka Takako reminds, a key feature of
“heterodox rituals (外法, gehō)” like those of Dakiniten is that they are fearsome and therefore
unpredictable.
347
To an extent, Dakiniten’s rituals worked for Kiyomori according to the Genpei
jōsuiki. We will see that they are assumed to work for the emperors during their enthronement.
The Keiranshūyōshū reports that a monk named Ningai was able to successfully jump the
monastic hierarchy to swiftly reach a high rank through propitiation of Dakiniten.
348
However,

346
Cf. Iyanaga 2006, 207-219, and Quinter, 214-216.
347
Tanaka, particularly 208-210.
348
This is referred to as the “Secret Offering of Immediately Becoming the Head of Monks (⼀階
僧正祕供事, Ikkai sōjō hitsuku no koto).” T. 2410, 633b. This section comes shortly before the Keiran
shūyōshū description of Dakiniten’s enthronement ritual. Ningai (仁海, or Ninkai, 951-1046) was often
160

the Genpei jōsuiki also tells us that when Fujiwara Narichika had rites for the ḍākinī performed
so as to help secure a court promotion, not only did these rituals fail, they also brought about the
anger of the Heavens.
349
Dakiniten’s ritual might fail if performed by one who did not have the
right qualifications. To guarantee the efficacy of a dangerous ritual, one needed to have
inherently exceptional ritual ability and proper training. Some such as Go Daigo could
successfully claim heteromorphic sovereignty. Some could not. For those who could, this was a
display of what happened when there was a proper joining of royal authority and Buddhist
Dharma in one person, and a full manifestation of the proper mode of the interdependence of
Royal and Buddhist law (王法仏法相依論, ōbō buppō sōiron).
The above missive against Monkan also hinted at the final reality that needs to be
considered in the ascendancy of Dakiniten. This missive compared the monk to a wild fox that
taught the Dharma to Indra. In the case of Mount Kōya’s missive, this comparison was certainly
pejorative. However, multiple sutras report similar stories, and clearly those stories were
intended to be viewed positively. The Foshuo weicengyou yinyuan jing (佛説未曾有因縁經, T
754) tells a story of a white fox or jackal that was being hunted by a lion and in the process fell
down a well.
350
Being caught in the well and knowing that it would soon die anyways, the beast
decided that it should emit light from its body so that the lion chasing it would know where it

considered a major patriarch in Tōji esoteric lineages, particularly the Ono school. Legends report that his
prayers to summon rain were particularly efficacious. Also discussed in Chapter Two, 116-177.
349
This is in the third scroll of the Genpei jōsuiki. See Mizuhara, Shintei Genpei Jōsuiki, 162-164.
Fujiwara Narichika (藤原成親, 1138-1177) had hoped to be promoted to the rank of general (⼤将
taishō). To do this he had rituals of the Peacock King performed at the Upper Kamo shrine, rituals of the
ḍākinī at the Lower Kamo, chanting of the Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra at Kiyomizu Hachimangu,
and he secluded himself at Kasuga. All of these rituals failed and eventually he was sent an oracle by the
kami to inform him this promotion was against his fate. The text does not specifically address why this
was so.
350
T 754, 576c-578a. Specifically, the beast is referred to at times as a ⽩野干.
161

was and could come to eat it for sustenance. This would prevent the beast’s death from being
wasted. Indra witnessed the selfless act of the beast and thought that this embodied the core
values of the Dharma. Therefore, Indra wanted the beast to teach him, and at the beast’s request
Indra rescued it from the well.
351
The Nirvana Sutra even claims that those who venerate beasts
and foxes might become kings.
352
These two stories become foundational to Dakiniten
veneration and will be referenced again and again below.
The Buddhist scriptural sanction for the association between beasts and authorities does
not stop there. In fact, Yamamoto states this association was present in the conception of the
cakravartin from the very beginning.
353
According to the Sutra on the Descent of Maitreya (彌勒
下生經, Ch. Mile xiasheng jing, T 453), there are seven treasures which are germane to the
existence of the Buddhist king: the golden wheel of a cakravartin, the elephant, the horse, jewels,
beautiful women, warriors and retainers, and guardians of the treasury.
354
Yamamoto supposes
that these are the seven things that a sovereign needs to be successful. The treasure of the
elephant alludes to the practice in ancient India of pouring water from atop an elephant onto a
king during traditional enthronement rites. This was an initial tie between sovereignty and beasts.
The treasure of the horse signifies the need of a king to have swift horses and cattle for combat
and trade. Again, here is a tie between sovereignty and beasts. The last important treasure for this
discussion is the treasure of women. Yamamoto proposes that we understand this treasure to
represent a king’s need to have a queen and consorts so as to continue his dynasty. This presents

351
Cf. Yamamoto 2018, 330.
352
T 374, 592a-b, and T 375, 840a. These are the “Mahāyāna” Nirvana translations.
353
See particularly Yamamoto 2018, 279-284.
354
T 453, 421b. 輪寶, 象寶, ⾺寶, 珠寶, 玉⼥寶, 典兵寶, 守藏之寶. These treasures are also
referenced throughout Yixing’s Commentary and some versions of the Nirvana Sūtra, although they are
not handled in a systematic way.
162

an initial tie between sovereignty, sex, and female sexuality in particular. Therefore, a Buddhist
king would be characterized with associations that bear the “scent of otherness.”
355

Tanaka Takako cautions that in the Japanese case, we must understand that within these
discourses beasts and women often do not seem to be thought of as categorically different from
each other—rather they are both sufficiently “different” from the dominant image of a man so as
to qualify as heteromorphic.
356
Then, through Tanaka’s analysis, we should recognize that all of
this symbolism relies on the imaginary powers of the dangerous qualities of things that are
discriminated against—in this case, that means beasts and women. Women and animals are often
marginalized by discourses from within Buddhist literature and Japanese society at large.
Reiko Ohnuma has recently described how animals in particular were doomed to an
“unfortunate destiny.”
357
In early Indian Mainstream Buddhism, animals were viewed as
something to pity or with which to be disgusted. They lack the human capacities to reason and
discern right from wrong. Therefore, an animal such as a fox could be viewed as radically other
from a human. Yet, in Japan within these new discourses of heteromorphic sovereignty, largely
linked to elite Buddhist institutions, that precise otherness turned from something of which to be
wary to something that is powerful. While the beasts and the powers of sexuality are something
marginal and liminal they are something to fear or of which to be suspicious, but if someone like
the monk Ningai or a powerful king such as Go Daigo is able to artificially circumscribe and
tame that dangerous power by ritual technologies, this appears to legitimize their authority.
Monkan’s eventual association with Dakiniten made sense because they both were both “other”

355
“異類の匂い.” Yamamoto 2018, 284.
356
Tanaka, 273. “Heteromorphic” here is 異類異形.
357
See Reiko Ohnuma, Unfortunate Destiny (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017), especially
18-22.
163

and nearly simultaneously rose to prominence in a ritual-cultural milieu that already had a
predilection for characteristics of strangeness, veneration of beasts, and the thaumaturgic power
of sexual activity.

Discourses of Power and Enthronement Rituals
The existence and mythology of Dakiniten is most thoroughly generated through the
accession, or enthronement, rituals (or “accession protocols,” sokuihō 即位法) for the Japanese
emperor. The ritual texts and their associated commentaries weave together elements from a
number of traditions to describe the ritual process and worldview that underlies the enthronement
of a Japanese emperor. Along with more orthodox discourses concerning authority and
legitimacy, the ideology of heteromorphic sovereignty is undeniably present in these medieval
texts. In fact, in the versions of the enthronement rituals that are available for study, Dakiniten in
her association with deities such as Inari and the Celestial Fox King is a central figure in these
sources that often acts as a medium to facilitate the ideological unity of various orthodox and
heterodox discourses. Indeed, across the different traditions for the emperor’s enthronement, the
association between Dakiniten and the ritual is persistent. This should be viewed as evidence of
her ability to hold together numerous traditions.
Generally speaking, the enthronement ritual of a Japanese emperor would entail the new
emperor formally accepting and acknowledging their new title at the Takamikura 高御座, or
imperial high throne. Specifically, the accession rituals for the emperor that are relevant to this
dissertation are those versions of the rituals that incorporate an esoteric Buddhist abhiṣeka
164

unction rite (sokui kanjō 即位灌頂) for the enthronement process. Such a rite effectively makes
the emperor a cakravartin, a Buddhist king.
358

Usually, the following sources describe a particular process for the ritual accession of the
emperor, but many texts will also provide the possibility that other sorts of people will perform
the rituals for other purposes. If a ritual has sufficient efficacy to consecrate the enthronement of
a sovereign, how much more easily might it handle less significant matters? This topic will be
discussed further below along with the contents of Dakiniten ritual texts.
According to Kamikawa Michio, from the late Kamakura period onward, enthronement
rituals were one of three practices involved in symbolically transferring authority to a new
sovereign.
359
The other two practices were the burial of the previous emperor and the new ruler’s
first harvest festival (Daijōsai ⼤嘗祭). Of course, during the Kamakura and Muromachi periods,
many emperors would retire to make way for the new emperor and so a funeral would often not
take place in the transfer process. Additionally, a harvest festival is by necessity tied to the
movement of seasons and may not take place until sometime after an accession. Often, the
enthronement ritual alone would take place during the actual transition of the sovereign’s title
and duties. For that reason, this ritual is particularly important. The performance of the
enthronement rituals always occurred in secret.

358
Quite a bit has been written on the concept of Buddhist kingship, and it would be outside the
scope of this project to review that literature here. For additional reading, see for instance Charles D.
Orzech, Politics and Transcendent Wisdom: The Scripture for Humane Kings in the Creation of Chinese
Buddhism (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1998), and Sango. Amino points
out that Chinese emperors were already taking on abhiṣeka rites and so there was substantial precedent
for this practice in Japan. See Amino, 181.
359
Kamikawa Michio, “Accession Rituals and Buddhism in Medieval Japan,” Japanese Journal of
Religious Studies 17, no. 2/3 (June-September 1990): 243.
165

Having been maintained in secrecy, we do not know the exact form of the ritual as
emperors performed it and likewise there are uncertainties in regard to when the rituals began to
be performed. Even so, despite the secrecy and the uncertainties, the nature of the rituals was
frequently discussed within texts from several major esoteric Buddhist lineages. Rituals for
Dakiniten such as those performed by Kiyomori and Tadazane above likely came from the
spread of these discourses seeping into vernacular literature. With this in mind, it is clear that the
influence of these rituals was extensive.
The first time that we know an esoteric ritual was performed as part of the emperor’s
enthronement is the fifteenth day of the third month in 1288 on the occasion of the accession of
Emperor Fushimi (伏⾒天皇 1265-1317, r. 1288-1298).
360
However, within his diary, the
Fushimi tennō nikki 伏⾒天皇⽇記, he simply stated that he received the secret mudrā and
instructions from his regent, Nijō Morotada (⼆条師忠, 1254-1341), in the evening of the
thirteenth

day of the third month.
361
Then on the fifteenth day, Emperor Fushimi recorded that he
formed the mudrā and intoned a mantra as he progressed through the ceremony. Morotada is
thought to have worked with his elder brother Dōgen (道玄, 1237-1304), who was head zasu (座
主 “abbot”) of Mount Hiei and the Tendai school, to advocate the ritual to Emperor Fushimi.
Beyond an unnamed mudrā and mantra, the emperor provided no details of what actually

360
The Sokui kanjou in’myou yurai no koto 即位灌頂印明由来事, compiled around 1500 and a
compendium of the history of the enthronement rites, claimed that the esoteric ritual was first performed
for Go Sanjo’s accession in 1068. This was once widely accepted but is now regarded as a later fiction
due to a lack of corroborating evidence. See. Kamikawa 247-248, and Matsumoto Ikuyo, Chūsei ōken to
sokui kanjō: seikyō no naka no rekishi jujutsu (Tōkyō: Shinwasha, 2005), 115 n13, and Matsumoto Ikuyo,
Tennō no sokui girei to shinbutsu (Tōkyō: Yoshikawa kōbunkan, 2017), 92-109.
361
Kamikawa, 251.
166

constituted the ritual. He simply called what he learned from Morotada the “secret mudrā” (hi’in
秘印), and in sources from future emperors and Nijō regents it was always referred to in this
way. Indeed, it must be emphasized that we do not know what form the ritual had in the
medieval period as no surviving documents contain instructions for a ritual that we know was
actually performed by an emperor.
Despite the secrecy surrounding the rites, sufficient documents do exist to indicate that
secret mudrās and mantras for an abhiṣeka rite were conferred by the regents for all but three
enthronements from the time of Emperor Fushimi until the accession of Emperor Meiji (r. 1867-
1912).
362
Clearly then, from the time of Emperor Fushimi, the conferral of the abhiṣeka rite
instructions were an integral part of the relationship between the sovereign and regent, and
therefore also increasingly vital to the concept of sovereignty as well.
The idea for an abhiṣeka rite for the sovereign of a state was already present in
foundational Buddhist texts such as Yixing’s Commentary on the Mahāvairocana sūtra and the
Flower Ornament Sūtra (Huayan jing 華嚴經, T 279).
363
According to the Flower Ornament
Sūtra, from long ago in India cakravartin kings would “place water from the four great seas into
golden vases. The king would then pour [the water of] these vases upon the head of the crown

362
The three who are not thought to have received the abhiṣeka rite mudrā and mantra were the
southern court emperors Go Murakami (御村上天皇, 1328-1368, r. 1339-1368), Chōkei (⻑慶天皇,
1343-1394, r. 1368-1383), and Go Kameyama (後⻲⼭天皇, 1347-1424, r. 1383-1392). For a useful chart
of this information, see Matsumoto 2005, 104-106. It is also important to note that not all emperors are
thought to have immediately or fully completed the rites at the beginning of the development of this
tradition. For instance, Emperor Hanazono (花園天皇, 1297-1348, r. 1308-1318) was only taught the
mudrā after his enthronement, although he is thought to have later advocated its incorporation into the
concept of Japanese sovereignty. See Kamikawa, 252.
363
Matsumoto 2017, 16-17, and Mark Teeuwen, “Knowing vs. Owning a Secret: Secrecy in
medieval Japan, as seen through the sokui kanjō enthronement unction,” in Scheid and Teeuwen, 176.
Following translation is my own.
167

prince. At this time, they would be named and take up the duties and rank of king.” A similar
sort of abhiṣeka rite, called denpō kanjō 伝法灌頂, also came to be administered within the
esoteric traditions for ācārya preceptors as they were initiated into secret teachings and became
part of specific master-pupil lineages. In the case of ācārya preceptors water is often sprinkled—
though not often poured—upon their heads when they are initiated, but for the “abhiṣeka” rite of
a Japanese emperor the secret mantra and mudrā would symbolically fill in for the water.
Additionally, as it would be unacceptable to make the sovereign the inferior in any relationship,
while the emperor would receive the instructions from their regent, the entire enthronement ritual
was self-administered and so the emperor was not placed into a subordinate position to the regent
or a teacher when the ritual was performed.
The argument for an esoteric Buddhist interpretation of the activity and function of the
Japanese imperial enthronement ritual is most widely thought to have been first presented by the
Tendai monk Jien (慈円 1155-1225).
364
Jien rose to serve as the zasu of Enryakuji intermittently
from the year 1192. He was also the son of the regent Fujiwara Tadamichi (藤原忠通, 1097-
1164) and younger brother of the regent Fujiwara Kanezane (藤原兼実, 1149-1207). In the
Jichin oshō musōki 慈鎮和尚夢想記, often called simply the Musōki, Jien recorded a dream that
he had concerning the imperial treasures, the royal sword and seal, and their relation to imperial
legitimacy.
365
He recorded that:
Of the divine seal and jewel sword from the king’s treasures, the divine seal is a jade woman (玉
⼥), and this jade woman takes the form of the empress. Therefore, even when the king enters and

364
Kamikawa, 250-251, and Teeuwen, 177.
365
Kamikawa, 249-251.
168

has intercourse with the innately pure (自性清浄) body of the jade woman, there is no violation
of impurity. At that, within my dream I realized that the divine seal is the pure jewel (清浄ノ
玉).
366

Abe Yasurō points out that Jien was in fact the monk responsible for ritual protection of Emperor
Go Toba and may very well have personally seen the divine seal and jewel sword that were kept
in the emperor’s sleeping quarters.
367
In its eroticism and symbolism, this dream clearly
exhibited some of the qualities of heteromorphic sovereignty as described by Abe and Tanaka
Takako. After detailing the dream, Jien claimed that this intercourse depicted the so-called
“mudrā of the sword and the sheath (tōshōin 刀鞘印)” that is the seal of the Wisdom King Fudō.
The sovereign is simultaneously the sword of the mudrā and the imperial jewel sword. The
empress/jade woman then is both the sheath of the mudrā and the divine seal. A “jade woman
(玉⼥ gyokunyo)” is a kind of immortal sage prevalent in Daoist and Buddhist traditions, as well
as a likely reference to one of the seven treasures common to cakravartin wheel-turning kings.
368

The “mudrā of the sword and the sheath” here euphemistically depicts their joining.
Furthermore, Jien explained:
The divine seal is Butsugan bumo 仏眼部⺟, and the jewel lady. The Konrin jōō 金輪聖王 [who
is the emperor] is Ichiji kinrin ⼀字金輪. This is a ritual of the intercourse of the Kinrin bucchō
金輪仏頂 and the Butsugan.
369

366
Original text in Yamamoto 2018, 286. While not directly related to this discussion, Jien does
further identify the sacred mirror as both Amaterasu and Mahāvairocana.
367
Abe Yasurō, “Hōju to ōken – chūsei ōken to mikkyō girei,” 115-169.
368
See also, Michael Como, “Daoist deities in ancient Japan: Household deities, Jade Women and
popular religious practice” in Richey, 24-36, and Bernard Faure, The Power of Denial: Buddhism, Purity,
and Gender (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009), 205-208.
369
Original text in Yamamoto 2018, 287.
169

Butsugan bumo is a buddha depicted as a female within the Womb World Mandala and is said
both to represent the wisdom of Mahāvairocana and to be that buddha’s mother.
370
The Ichiji
kinrin or Kinrin bucchō is one of a set of five deities called the bucchō 仏頂 that embody the five
wisdoms of the Buddha, and Ichiji kinrin is often compared to the Golden-Wheel Cakravartin in
that they are the superior of this set of deities just as the Golden-Wheel is the superior of the
other classes of cakravartin.
371
Importantly, Ichiji kinrin forms the wisdom-fist mudrā (chiken’in
智拳印) and is supposed to be an aspect of Mahāvairocana who dwells in the golden wheel of
the sun within the Vajra World. Later the emperor would be further identified with yang and the
empress with yin in Jien’s text. As Yamamoto Hiroko argues, Jien has laid out a cosmological
view wherein the Golden-Wheel Cakravartin and Butsugan bumo, or the emperor and the
empress, are the fundamental essence of male and female and their joining is a realization of the
non-duality of the two realms of the Womb World and Vajra World.
372
Therefore, Jien said of
the emperor’s accession:
As for the ritual ceremonies performed at the Takamikura for the enthronement of the worldly
ruler, it is said that these imitate this rite of the transformation of Mahāvairocana as Konrin’ō, and
that the wisdom-fist mudrā is formed. This then is Mahāvairocana of the Vajra Realm being
manifested in this world in order to benefit sentient beings.
373

The “worldly ruler” (世間ノ国王) here is the Japanese emperor. The wisdom-fist mudrā of
Mahāvairocana/Ichiji kinrin is formed by extending the index finger of the left hand and grasping
that finger in the fist of the right hand while positioning the two hands at the middle of the chest.

370
Also known as Butsugen butsumo 仏眼仏⺟. Mochizuki, 4445 (volume 5). See also Misaki
Ryōshū, “Jichin oshō no butsugan shinkō” in Mikkyō bunka 69-70 (1964), 61-76, on Jien’s particular
expressions of the veneration of Butsugan bumo.
371
Mochizuki, 140 (volume 1) and 4473 (volume 5).
372
Yamamoto 2018, 288.
373
Original text in Yamamoto 2018, 285-286. Note, that while Yamamoto presents this passage
first in her discussion, it actually follows the two previous passages in the Musōki.
170

The mudrā represents Mahāvairocana embracing all sentient beings and that worldly afflictions
are precisely enlightenment. Although this is not exactly the same mudrā, the sword-sheath
mudrā of the Ritual of Fudō (Fudōhō 不動法) in the Gyōrin shō (行林抄 T 2409) describes that
the right hand makes a sword mudrā and is placed into the left hand as it makes a sheath mudrā,
which suggests that the sword-sheath mudrā does mirror the wisdom-fist mudrā. In any case, Jien
interpreted the dream to mean that Butsugan bumo, Ichiji kinrin, and Fudō myōō are all the same
and simultaneously manifested in these sovereign rituals for the benefit of sentient beings. The
enthronement ritual in particular is an instantiation of the emperor’s identity as the Ichiji
kinrin/Mahāvairocana and thoroughly an esoteric Buddhist ritual. When in 1320 Retired
Emperor Hanazono (花園院, 1297-1348, r. 1308-1318) queried his teacher Jigon (慈厳, 1298-
1359) about the nature of the secret mudrā of the enthronement ritual, Jigon referred Hanazono
to the Musōki.
374
This ritual ideology within Jien’s text was widely disseminated throughout
different commentaries on the enthronement rite and will appear again below.
While Jien’s dream and explanation definitively sets up the emperor as a Buddhist king
and manifestation of Mahāvairocana to save sentient beings, beyond the salvific implications
there are also political implications. Jien claimed that his dream revealed that the loss of the
sword into the sea with Emperor Antoku (安徳天皇, 1178-1185, r. 1180-1185) at Dan-no-ura in
1185 symbolizes the loss of the emperor’s martial authority and the “ruin of the land of Japan by
the warriors and the shogun.”
375
Yet, Jien’s dream showed him a way to reclaim this lost
authority and stave off the ruin. The so-called “mudrā of the sword and the sheath (tōshōin 刀鞘

374
Matsumoto 2017, 122.
375
This quotation and following quotations come from Kamikawa’s translations.
171

印)” acted as a replacement for the sword. In other words, the proper coordination of Buddhist
Law with Imperial Law would both lead to a better state and make up for the loss of the sword.
The joining of the Buddhist and Imperial laws within the enthronement rites would allow the
emperor to recoup some of the authority they had lost to the Kamakura shogunate. However,
there are still strings that come with this authority. The following paragraphs will show that the
Nijō branch of the regents’ family (sekkanke 摂関家) effectively bound the ritual’s legitimacy to
themselves by owning the secret of the rites.
376

The introduction of an esoteric enthronement rite would have been right in line with a
larger rearrangement of court rituals occurring during the same period. The regents had already
asserted sole ownership of oral traditions of secret rites for the divine offerings (shinzen no gi, 神
膳の儀) that were an integral part of the imperial harvest festival.
377
This was done so that a
regent could assume authority related to his being the one capable of providing a new emperor
with the instructions of how to perform these rites. Jien and his brother Tadamichi are both
known to have claimed that these rites were a key part of a pact between the imperial ancestor
Amaterasu and the divine Fujiwara ancestor Ama no Koyane no mikoto 天児屋命.
378
This claim
asserted that from time immemorial the rites were to be transmitted by the Fujiwara regents’
family and that no other potential source could exist that would have sufficient legitimacy to

376
For a thorough discussion of this, see Mark Teeuwen “Knowing vs. Owning a Secret: Secrecy
in medieval Japan, as seen through the sokui kanjō enthronement unction,” in Scheid and Teeuwen, 173-
203.
377
Teeuwen, 177. A key difference here is that, unlike the sokui kanjō, the shinzen no gi was
certainly being performed by emperors during the time of Jien and probably for somewhat more than a
century prior.
378
Teeuwen, 177.
172

insure the efficacy of the important rituals at the center of the Japanese court. As Mark Teeuwen
and others have shown, the brothers’ presentation of this ritual as a secret of the Fujiwara
regents’ family was an effective means of securing the authority and influence of the family
during the Kamakura period, a time when the sekkanke’s authority was waning drastically.
In fact, the conferral of the abhiṣeka rites became not only a matter for the regent’s
family, but rather it was controlled de facto by the Nijō branch. All but two of the men who
transmitted the mudrā and mantra were members of the Nijō family. The exceptions were the
sesshō Takatsukasa Kanetada (鷹司兼忠, 1262-1301) and Kujō Moronori (九条師教, 1273-
1320) for emperors Go Fushimi (御伏⾒天皇, 1288-1336, r. 1298-1301) and Hanazono,
respectively.
379
Go Fushimi and Hanazono were the second and fourth emperors to receive the
transmissions, so this was at a time when the tradition had not yet stabilized and other sekkanke
branches were still able to vie for control of the secrets. However, afterwards, even when the
regent was not from the Nijō branch, it was always the head of the Nijō branch who conferred
the instructions to the emperor. The last emperor of the Edo period, Emperor Kōmei (孝明天皇,
r. 1846-1866), received the mudrā and mantra from Nijō Nariyuki (⼆条⻫敬, 1816-1878) while
his relative Takatsukasa Masamichi (鷹司政通, 1789-1868) was regent. When the emperors and
Nijō Fujiwara had need of new discourses of power they made use of the culture of sovereignty
of the strange to consolidate their authority. Through this strategy, the Nijō successfully secured
their relevance during the Muromachi and Edo periods, and the enthronement rites that they

379
Matsumoto 2005, 105.
173

protected had defined both the regents’ and the emperors’ ritual relation to the transference and
continuation of sovereignty.

Conclusions
The rise of Dakiniten and her rituals cannot be understood apart from this context. This
chapter has shown that the mythology of Dakiniten was established concurrently with new
esoteric ritualizations of the sovereignty of the emperor. Furthermore, the ritualization occurred
in a cultural milieu where the use of liminal and heteromorphic sources of powers was expected.
Therefore, in the midst of these discourses where otherness was to be prized, then it was logical
that the goddess’s association with beasts would also be prized and proliferated. Inari-
Dakiniten’s current association with foxes and similar beasts is an echo of a vital part of this
composite goddess’s efficacy within the above medieval esoteric worldview.
Because of the wide spreading elements of this discourse, with ritual texts reinforcing
vernacular stories and vice versa, the relationship between Inari and Dakiniten was able to
become a fundamental component of Inari’s repertoire. This may have only been incipient at the
time of the twelfth century Kitanoin omuro shūyōshū, but by the early fourteenth century the
relationship was in full bloom. So much so that the Keiranshūyōshū would emplace the rituals of
Dakiniten on to Mount Inari for their greatest efficacy.
When authors of works such as the Inariki, Keiranshūyōshū, Shintōshū, or other texts
asserted an identity between Inari and Dakiniten, they also were in part continuing the discourses
of the enthronement rituals proposed by Jien and others. Perhaps this was because the authors
were connected to the Fujiwara or invested in shaping ideas about imperial sovereignty. Perhaps
this was because they saw in these evolving discourses an opportunity to promote the position of
174

Inari and find new avenues for the cult. Perhaps this was because they were proponents of the
esoteric ritual traditions within which were bound the abhiṣeka rites of Dakiniten. There were
multiple such reasons to bring together Inari and Dakiniten in this way. It would likely be a
fruitless task to propose to determine that any of the stories of Inari as Dakiniten or Dakiniten as
Inari had only one purpose for the author.
What can be said is that it is in the resulting identity of Inari and Dakiniten that Inari’s
association with foxes became vital and necessary. Kazan may have seemed wild. Monkan may
have appeared transgressive. However, their stories and the accompanying marks of otherness
had become too big. Authors like Yūkai and Shinjō could object to these powers being
dangerous. However, it was too late. Conservative commentators could try to argue against it,
but what could they do when the Foshuo weicengyou yinyuan jing and some translations of the
Nirvana Sutra claimed that the worship of beasts led to kingship? The discourses had then so
taken hold of the imagination that their efficacy was both essential and unassailable. Proponents
of Inari embraced these ideologies. Without the connection to the foxes, Inari does not cleanly fit
into the heteromorphic imaginaries of the enthronement rituals and Dakiniten’s rituals. On the
other hand, because of the association, Inari would become a perfect match. It is in this sense that
Inari’s associations with foxes within vernacular tales reinforced the kami’s success in the
esoteric world.
To be clear, I am not arguing that Inari’s association with foxes certainly came from the
relationship with Dakiniten. Nor can it be stated for certain that Inari and Dakiniten became
bound together because of a mutual connection with foxes. My position is that this association
was used to great success to tie Inari-Dakiniten firmly into a powerful discourse that ended up
being fruitful for the Inari cult.
175

CHAPTER FOUR: A Ritual Cosmology of Inari, Dakiniten, and Foxes
As stated in the previous chapter, we do not know with any degree of confidence the
contents of the abhiṣeka rite that medieval emperors actually performed for their enthronement.
However, this does not mean that there are not medieval sources that claim to have detailed
instructions for the emperor’s enthronement rituals and its mudrās and mantras. Quite to the
contrary, there is an abundance of such sources. During the late Kamakura and Muromachi
periods, all major Buddhist schools and lineages developed their own traditions for the
enthronement and purported to possess the truest secrets and teachings regarding these rituals
and the nature of the emperor as a Buddhist king.
What is found in the new sources from these many schools is a veritable cosmology of
deities. The many different thinkers and authors of the enthronement rituals and related sources
do not stop at the idea of sovereignty described in the in the previous sources. Heteromorphic
sovereignty provided inspiration for the authors, but now the question came to be how to fully
and properly harness that authority. Dakiniten was placed at the center because of her sure
association with foxes, Mañjuśrī, and tales from the sutras. Her connection with Inari was also
helpful as Inari held a place in the apparatus of the Twenty-Two Shrine-Temple Multiplexes
system. However, the thinkers did not want only these authorities to legitimize their work. The
following chapter demonstrates that the “Buddhist” kingship of the Japanese emperor in these
enthronement rituals could encompass all things. The result of the authors’ writings is a wide
spiraling web of divinity wherein this goddess had secure connections to all other sources of
sovereignty that the authors might imagine.

176

To be a Buddhist King
Broadly speaking we may say that there are three lineages for the instructions of the
rituals: a Tendai version, a Tōji Shingon version, and the lineage actually conveyed by the Nijō
regents. These three categories can be further broken down according to content or form so as to
isolate particular sub-lineages. For instance, Matsumoto Ikuyo has identified four varieties of
Shingon accession rituals: 1) those of the Tōji form, 2) those of the mixed Tendai-Shingon form,
3) those of the temple Daigoji’s lineages’ form, and 4) those of the Kajūji 勧修寺 lineage.
380
For
instance, in this taxonomy, enthronement rituals of the Tōji form have been determined as those
that self-identify as being Tōji lineage documents and contain a high degree of Ryōbu Shintō
ideology.
381

Matsumoto has argued that this plethora of types and variety among the temples’
enthronement ritual protocols reveals the wide range of ideas concerning sovereignty, authority,
and legitimacy present in the medieval Japanese world.
382
Just like today, the concept of a king
or of sovereignty was very indistinct, and the emperor was a different sort of existence from the
perspective of different people and different ideologies. As may be expected from the nebulous
existence of the emperor, they were given many names within these ritual transmissions that
could help to locate them in a medieval Buddhist cosmology: king (ō 王), major king (teiō 帝王),
monarch (mikado 帝), jeweled body (gyokutai 玉躰), sovereign (teikō 帝皇), ruler of the land

380
Matsumoto 2005, 125. Daigoji and Kajūji were both located in Kyoto and head temples of the
Daigo and Yamashina Shingon schools respectively. By the time of the proliferation of the rituals
discussed in this chapter, Daigoji was also well affiliated with the Ono school, noted for stemming from
Ningai who has been discussed above.
381
See Introduction for comments on Ryōbu Shintō.
382
For the most succinct version of this argument, see particularly Matsumoto Ikuyo, “Shingon
mikkyōkai ni okeru ‘teiō’ no isō: shingonhō sokuihō wo megutte,” Nihon bungaku 53, no. 2 (2004): 9-18.
177

(kokushu 国主), and cakravartin (rin’ō 輪王).
383
This ambiguity about the existence of the
emperor, as a person that relied on many, sometimes competing discourses of legitimacy and
whose place within worldly and heavenly hierarchies was inconstant, was especially the case
during the late Kamakura and early Muromachi periods as the position and authority of the
emperor alongside that of the shogunate meant that the emperor’s existence was both more
precarious and more limited than it had previously been. More precisely, Kamikawa Michio and
Mark Teeuwen have both shown that the flourishing of these texts occurred in the period of
Japanese history known as the Northern and Southern Courts period (1334-1392), when political
rivalries had led to the establishment of two imperial courts and each faction was looking for
new methods to prove their legitimacy.
384
That is, these new rituals rose to eminence in the
aftermath of Go Daigo’s redesigns of imperial sovereignty. The contents of the enthronement
rituals and related commentaries passed down within these temple lineages then show the efforts
of several different factions to resolve just what precisely an emperor was in the medieval
Japanese and Buddhist worldviews, and what sort of authority an emperor would have.
Naturally, it is not just the authority and the place of the emperor that is explored and
defined within these documents. Deities, their authority, and their relation to sovereignty also
vary from lineage to lineage and text to text. Matsumoto has noted that the position of the
imperial ancestor Amaterasu in particular changes.
385
While many versions of the enthronement
ritual focus on the authority of figures such as Mahāvairocana, when Amaterasu is described
within the texts, she is situated less as the ancestor of imperial family in particular and rather
described as the ruler of the entire realm of Japan. This is accomplished in part by focusing on

383
Matsumoto 2004, 14.
384
Kamikawa, 271-272, and Teeuwen, 175-194.
385
See Matsumoto 2005, 44-58, and Matsumoto 2017, 221-228.
178

Amaterasu’s nature as a sun goddess and providing her with the same qualities as
Mahāvairocana, who oversees all of existence and provides salvation to sentient beings through a
sort of constant emanation. While difficult to measure, the prevalence of references to these
rituals within medieval literature and sources shows that their ideologies and philosophies are not
isolated to the texts alone and have had a lasting influence.

Dakiniten as the Foundation of Enthronement Rituals
Most importantly to this discussion, Dakiniten figures prominently in the esoteric rituals
as passed down by both the Tōji Shingon school and the Tendai school. Within the great variety
of forms, a fourteenth or fifteenth century Tōji version of the ritual called the “Tōji gosokuihō
shidai 東寺御即位法次第” from the Kanchi’in 観智院 Kongō Archive 金剛蔵 can be
considered representative:
386

First, [the sovereign] forms the Vajrasattva dhāraṇī and mudrā. (The outer five-pronged vajra
mudrā.)
Nōmoku bamanta bazara tasenda maka roshada un
Next, the mudrā and dhāraṇī of ruling the four seas. (The great deity.) On (clasp hands in
reverence) takini (place right hand above left shoulder) kyaki (place left hand on right shoulder)
kyaka (bring up the right [hand], look down, and clasp hands) neiweisohaka (clasp hands again
and form the mudrā of the stupa). Next, the wisdom-fist mudrā. (Say the Dakiniten dhāraṇī.) To
the right of the Takamikura, the king faces the south and the minister faces the north. As this is
conferred, every time after through these mudrā and dhāraṇī, the [emperor] manifests Amaterasu
Ōkami.
387

Here we find that the Dakiniten mantra, “takini kyaki kyaka neiweisohaka,” is chanted with both
the “mudrā of ruling the four seas” and the “wisdom-fist mudrā.” The text goes on to explain that
the Vajrasattva mudrā, the wisdom-fist mudrā, and the Dakiniten dhāraṇī were first passed down

386
Matsumoto Ikuyo has acknowledged the Tōji version of these rituals as the dominant and most
influential in the medieval landscape. See Matsumoto 2017, 172-179. Near identical versions of these
instructions are also found in the Daigoji and Sanbō’in archives.
387
Text in parentheses indicates interlinear notes in the original. Text in italics represents the
dhāraṇī. Translation is based upon text in Matsumoto 2017, 174-175.
179

by Kūkai and that only the mudrā of ruling the four seas, without a dhāraṇī, was present from the
time of Amaterasu. There is a definite tension present with the fact that two of the mudrās and
the dhāraṇī are late additions by Kūkai, but the text makes no suggestion that this form of the
ritual is somehow incorrect or should not be performed. Rather, while late additions, they are still
proper parts of the ritual. As for the unusual movement involving touching the shoulders that
accompanies the mudrā of ruling the four seas, the text says: “heavy objects are placed on the
shoulders and carried, light objects are carried in one’s hands. Because the kami’s favor is
profound, this is a rite of bearing it on one’s back.”
Dakiniten very early on figures prominently in myths related to the emperors’
enthronement rituals. For instance, the goddess is called the ‘original ground’ of Amaterasu and
the original conveyer of these rites within the Amaterasu Ōkami kuketsu 天照⼤神口決.
388
This
text was kept in the Sanbō’in archive of Mount Kōya and is thought to have originally been
written down by the priest Kakujō 覚乗 in 1327. Kakujō in turn is thought to have learned the
contents from the priest Chien 智円. Kakujō was Eison's disciple and had studied traditions from
within Ise, Ryōbu, and Miwa Shintō, and so Kakujō should have been familiar with much of the
contemporary kami-related teachings and rituals.
The Amaterasu Ōkami kuketsu purports to be an explanation of Kōbō Daishi’s teachings
about the Ise Grand Shrine.
389
In particular, three topics are covered: 1) the origin of the heart-
pillar (心の柱 shin no hashira) of the main shrine, 2) the meaning of the construction of the

388
The title of this text has sometimes been read as Tenshō daijin kuketsu. See ST, Ronsetsu hen
2, Shingon shintō 2, xxv.
389
Following is based on the Amaterasu Ōkami kuketsu as printed in the ST, Ronsetsu hen 2, 497-
504.
180

shrine buildings, and 3) the matter of the shrine attendants called “kora 子良.” The heart-pillar is
simultaneously a single-pronged vajra, the spear of Izanami and Izanagi from the Nihon shoki,
and Mount Sumeru at the center of the Buddhist world. It is further explained that the shrines are
built such that they embody the five elemental rings of earth, water, fire, wind, and space, and
the outer shrine manifests the twenty devas of the Vajra World and the inner shrine reveals the
deities of the Womb World as well. The Amaterasu Ōkami kuketsu then is a text about how the
Ise shrines, Amaterasu, and Japan sit at the cosmological center of multiple ideological
frameworks.
In the world of this Kuketsu, the oldest tradition of the Ise shrine and the ritual that is
used for the continual reverence of Amaterasu is that performed by the kora shrine attendants.
On the subject of their ritual offerings, the text says:
In the mornings and evenings when they present the ritual offerings, one or two kora perform the
secret ritual of Amaterasu Ōkami…This secret ritual was passed down from the imperial princess
Yamatohime in the ancient past, and up to the present dharma food 法味 has been prepared for
every offering. When Amaterasu Ōkami was enshrined [in Matsuoka], she was called the
Matsuoka deity of Shimotsuke. Her original ground was Dakiniten. After this, the goddess
manifested as the deity of Kashima, who then manifested as the Kasuga [deity]. Kasuga then
manifested as Dakiniten and gave birth to the Taishokkan [Nakatomi no Kamatari]. She stole him
and took him around in the four directions. She slept with him and put him upon her belly, then as
she chanted ‘shisonsarikuisaii nanatsuninarahakafuritaemawoyake’ and returned him to his
parents she added this secret ritual of the great deity and a scythe wrapped in wisteria. At that
time, she said, “with these, you will rise to become the teacher of the Son of Heaven.”
390

Here the history of the enthronement rites brings in a number of important characters.
Yamatohime ⼤和姫 is supposed to be the daughter of the Emperor Suinin (垂仁天皇, dates
unknown) and the one who first established the Ise shrine following Amaterasu’s wishes. The
kami of Kashima and Kasuga are the clan deities of the Fujiwara and the regents who teach these

390
Original text in ST, Ronsetsu hen 2, 499. I have added text in brackets for clarity.
181

secret rituals. Here the Kasuga kami and the imperial ancestor Amaterasu are both forms of
Dakiniten, apparently equal and with nothing in the text to suggest that one has hierarchical
priority over the other. Instead, it is made clear that both of these deities are different aspects of
Dakiniten, and it is her movements that are behind these important events. Nakatomi no
Kamatari is the legendary primogenitor of the Fujiwara family and was the most powerful
minister of his time. The text moves on to recount his killing of the rival minister Soga no Iruka
(蘇我入鹿, d. 645) and asserts that it is Kamatari’s actions that brought peace and stability to the
realm. There are clear echoes here of the Kamatari story in the Inariki.
391
The document further
makes clear the interdependence of the emperor’s sovereignty and the regent’s office, and that
the enthronement ritual conveyed by Dakiniten is the lynchpin between these.
It appears that twice a day, kora offered rice, water, and salt to the kami at the outer Ise
shrine.
392
According to this Kuketsu, these shrine attendants could be boys or girls. Boys might
be attendants until they reached the age of fifteen or could leave earlier of their own volition if
they began to have lustful thoughts towards women. Girls would be removed from service when
they began to menstruate. The word ‘kora’ is comprised of the two characters ‘ko 子’ meaning
‘child’ and ‘ra 良’ meaning ‘good.’ However, in Japanese the character for ‘fox 狐’ could also
be read ‘ko’ and later documents related to these attendants would often replace the character for
child with the character for fox in apparent wordplay. Other documents would also swap the
character ‘ra’ with the character for ‘wolf 狼,’ which is similar in appearance and could be read

391
See Chapter Two.
392
Cf. Yamamoto Hiroko’s discussion of the kora and these rituals. Yamamoto 2018, 331-353.
182

‘rau’ in premodern Japanese (now, ‘rō’). The kora could quickly be used to allude to the power
of beasts.
Although the situation is very different, the ritual being performed by these attendants is
claimed to be the same ritual as that performed by an emperor during the enthronement process.
To show this, the explanation of the rituals in the Kuketsu continues:
This thing [that the kora perform] called the regents’ Secret Ritual of the Great Deity, is called
the Ritual of Ruling the Four Seas at the time of the enthronement the Dakiniten ritual. When one
does not receive this ritual, [they consider] the rank of kings lightly and cannot possess the four
seas. Therefore, not just kings, from the monks of temples to the lay people -- those who possess
this ritual will attain high ranks according to their nature. At the Inari [shrine], because it protects
Tōji, there are secret matters related to the enthronement.
393

While the reference is only in passing and provides no further elaboration, we do find here a
connection to the Inari shrine. Based on the context, this may be a reference to the Inari shrine
being one of the common places for people to perform this ritual, and we will see more evidence
to corroborate this below. The Kuketsu also goes on to repeat the “Tōji gosokuihō shidai”
instructions’ admonitions regarding the importance of carrying heavy things upon one’s
shoulder. The language is so similar that one text may have been based on the other or another
text may have been a common source text for both. Regardless, the Kuketsu here argues that this
ritual is necessary for a king to “possess the four seas”—to truly have sovereignty over the land.
Additionally, there is here the supposition that this secret matter might be utilized by someone
from any level of society, and they could expect to benefit from its efficacy.
At the very beginning of the Kuketsu, the author claims that this document was also part
of a larger set of teachings called the Mudaiki 無題記. Some scholars take this to be an important
clue that the Kuketsu may originally have been composed before 1327. In any case, it does

393
Original text in ST, Ronsetsuhen 2, 500.
183

situate the text in a larger body of teachings that claim to be associated to the Mudaiki. A second
document from this corpus known as the Bikisho (鼻歸書, sometimes Hanagaeshisho) was
found in the archive of the temple of Shōyuji in Osaka.
394
At the very end of this document it
claims to be part of the three books of the Mudaiki that were once kept at the Shōjōshin’in 清浄
心院 of Mount Kōya.
395
This Bikisho is considered to have been written down in 1324 by Chien,
the same Chien from whom Kakujō is supposed to have learned the contents of the Amaterasu
Ōkami kuketsu. These texts were certainly widely read within esoteric monastic circles in Kyoto,
and at the very least their ideas spread to similar circles in the east of the country. This will be
apparent in the discussion below.
The Bikisho contains teachings about the nature of Amaterasu and the development of
Buddhist teachings in Japan.
396
In many ways the Bikisho can be characterized as an extended
explanation of much of the contents of the Amaterasu Ōkami kuketsu with the clear intention of
providing a history of Japan where the development of Buddhism and the secrets of the Ise
shrine are the central elements around which the narrative was organized. The fundamental logic
of this document is that of the non-duality of the Two Realms (ryōbu funi 両部不⼆), and
through this logic Amaterasu is identified with multiple forms of Mahāvairocana and other
deities such as the Wisdom Kings Fudō and Aizen. On the subject of the transmission of
teachings of the Dharma to Japan, the Bikisho says:
At first, little by little portions of the Dharma teachings crossed over. En-no-gyōja practiced the
rituals of Kujyaku myō’ō. Taichō practiced the rituals of Eleven-headed [Kannon]. Even though

394
ST, Ronsetsuhen 2, xxvi. Shōyuji 正祐寺 is located in the present Tennōji ward of Osaka and
has long been affiliated with the Shingon school and Mount Kōya.
395
Original text in Shintō taikei: Ronsetsuhen 2, 521.
396
Following is based on the Bikisho as printed in the Shintō taikei: Ronsetsuhen 2, 505-521.
184

we claimed to have these sorts of things, because we did not know the bones and eyes of the
schools, we cannot say that [the essential teachings] were transmitted. We know this. From these
sorts of things, in the ancient past, amid beasts that had spiritual powers, they simply relied on
[this Celestial Fox] and increased contaminated treasures. Therefore, at this shrine, the kora
practiced the Rituals of the Celestial Fox after the divine offerings. This was for the purpose of
not forgetting the ancient promise. Therefore, this ritual is transmitted to the descendants of the
Great Imperial deity at the time of the enthronement...It was named the Ritual of Ruling the Four
Seas and from long ago those who practiced this ritual received authority and were the kings
among people. Therefore, even now this ritual is taught for the sake of the king among people.
397

En-no-gyōja is a legendary forerunner of the Shugendō 修験道 mountain asceticism tradition
who is said to have lived in the seventh and eighth centuries. According to the Shoku nihongi he
was exiled and the Nihon ryōiki claims that he practiced the Ritual of the Peacock King 孔雀明
王呪法. He is then a marginalized or heterodox figure known for his magical efficacy. Taichō 泰
澄 was roughly a contemporary of En no gyōja who also is said to have practiced mountain
asceticism. Through his practicing of the Ritual of Eleven-headed Kannon 十⼀面ノ法 he
became known for curing plagues and gained official ranks.
398
The ritual practiced by the kora
and the emperor therefore is being described as something similar to these rituals of the Peacock
King and Eleven-headed Kannon: rituals of great efficacy linked to the practices of asceticism
and heterodoxy.
The “ancient promise” referred to here is most likely earlier presented in the Bikisho as
the promise that Śākyamuni and Nāgārjuna, the famed second to third century exegete, would be
reborn to bring benefits to all sentient beings.
399
The text says that this promise is present in the

397
ST, Ronsetsuhen 2, 511.
398
On considerations of En no gyōja place in medievan imaginations see Heather Blair, Real and
Imagined: The Peak of Gold in Heian Japan (Leiden: Brill, 2015).
399
In regard to the promise in question, the Bikisho is unfortunately ambiguous, but this promise
between the Buddha and the scholar does factor into getting the plot of the story going.
185

Laṅkâvatāra sūtra (入楞伽經, T 671) when the Buddha says, “The inner actualized-wisdom I
have attained, it is not present within the borders of delusions and enlightenment. Within the
great countries to the south there is a monk of great virtue. He is called Nāgārjuna bodhisattva.
He successfully destroys the views of existence and non-existence. For the sake of humankind,
he explains my unsurpassed Dharma of the Great Vehicle.”
400
By linking this quotation with the
rituals of the kora, the text indicates that we should understand that the Ritual of the Celestial
Fox is passed on to the kings of Japan as a continuation of Nāgārjuna’s explanations of the
teachings of the Buddha. This is reinforced by the Bikisho’s claim that Nāgārjuna was actually a
manifestation of Amaterasu.
401
So, even though the “bones and eyes of the schools 宗ノ骨目,”
the most essential or vital teachings of the traditions, were not known, these rituals are described
as being authentic transmissions of the original Buddha’s teachings.
The Bikisho also had something to say about the proper form of the ritual and its usage of
dhāraṇī and mudrā. While the Bikisho agreed with both the Kuketsu and the “Tōji gosokuihō
shidai” instructions that the ritual as it is properly performed includes three mudrā and two
dhāraṇī, it similarly repeated the claim that this was not the original form of the ritual. It stated of
the original form, “as for the Ritual of the Celestial Fox continually passed down from the Great
Kami, there are directions for something like a mudrā 印ノ様ナル物 to be passed on, but there
is no dhāraṇī.”
402
The Bikisho has taken things a step farther than the other texts and insists that

400
Text in the Bikisho is 我乗タル内證智ハ妄覚非境界、於南⼤國中有⼤徳比丘、名龍樹菩
薩、能ク破有無ノ⾒ヲ、為⼈説我⼤乗無上ノ法ヲ云可。This appears to be a somewhat garbled
transcription of verses found in page 569a of T 671. It is not immediately obvious how this quotation
constitutes a promise that Śākyamuni and Nāgārjuna would be reborn together, however later text in the
sutra may be taken to mean that someone would appear in the future to explain the Dharma.
401
ST, Ronsetsuhen 2, 507-508.
402
ST, Ronsetsuhen 2, 512.
186

the original ritual as it had been passed down by Amaterasu had no dhāraṇī nor anything that can
be properly called a mudrā. There was simply the movement of placing the hands over one’s
shoulders and this was to indicate that the performer of the ritual trusted and revered the Celestial
Fox.

Of Celestial Foxes, Grave Deities, and Wisdom
Importantly, the name of Dakiniten appears nowhere within the Bikisho, instead her name
has been replaced by that of the “Celestial Fox (辰狐 Shinko).”
403
The origins of this fox are
unclear, but it came to dominate the symbolism of the enthronement rituals. The Bikisho claimed
that two Celestial Fox statues are made of gold and silver, and that these are then placed to the
right and left of the sovereign for the enthronement rituals. The Kuketsu likewise claimed that in
the Tōji variant of the enthronement rites gold and silver statues of Dakiniten are supposed to be
placed to the left and right.
404
Scholars have tended to assume that these statues are of Dakiniten
in the form of a fox.
The Keiranshūyōshū actually declared that the Celestial Fox is the messenger of Shinra
myōjin 新羅明神 who is another form of Dakiniten, and both here are in fact manifestations of
the Venerable Ruler of the Stars (sonshō’ō 尊星王), which is often a name for Myōken or

403
This particular variety of fox has sometimes been translated as “Dragon-fox” or “Astral fox.”
While the character tatsu or shin 辰 does sometimes mean “dragon,” that meaning does not match its
usage in this context. ‘Astral’ certainly is a good translation here that captures the fox’s role as a deity of
astral or celestial bodies and movements, but I have chosen to use ‘Celestial’ based upon the fox’s close
associations in these texts with Myōken, who is often called the “Celestial bodhisattva” in English.
404
ST, Ronsetsuhen 2, 501. Grapard states that the gold statue represents a male form of Dakiniten
and the silver statue a female form. This is certainly possible, but it has not been a point of concern within
the ritual texts. Allan G. Grapard, “Of Emperors and Foxy Ladies,” Cahiers d’Extrême-Asie 13 (2002),
133.
187

Sudarśana bodhisattva 妙⾒菩薩.
405
In a section entitled the “The Matter of the Main Image for
the Heavenly Fox dada Illness 天狐ダダ病本尊事,” the Keiranshūyōshū stated that when
performed in a province of at least one hundred ri, the head of a Celestial Fox should be used as
the main image, and gold and silver statues of Celestial foxes should be made for a ritual to
eradicate the illness.
406
Interestingly, another section of the text also claimed that the robes of a
mountain ascetic yamabushi are intended to symbolize the color of the Celestial Fox.
407

Finally, the Keiranshūyōshū used the image of the Celestial Fox to teach us something
about Amaterasu’s role in the Dharma-realm:
After Amaterasu Ōkami came down from the heavens, she hid herself in the Heavenly Grotto.
She hid herself in the form of a Celestial Fox. Among all the various beasts, the Celestial Fox
emits light from its body. The goddess therefore appeared in that form.
Why does the Celestial Fox always emit light? The Celestial Fox is a provisional
manifestation of Nyoirin Kannon. Through the cintāmaṇi jewel, [Kannon] takes that form, and is
therefore named the Cintāmaṇi King. The [cintāmaṇi] jewel necessarily emits light in the night.
For this reason, at the time of Shingon offering rituals, lamps are called cintāmaṇi. These things
had best be considered together. There are three prongs on the Celestial Fox’s tail. Upon the three
prongs are a cintāmaṇi jewel. These three prongs are the three corners of a flame; the flame of the
[cintāmaṇi jewel]. This goddess manifested light and illuminated the Dharma realm.
It is also said in one transmission, that in the Texts on the Unprecedented (未曾有經
Mizōukyō), one who worships the Celestial Fox will become the king of the land. For this reason
too, Amaterasu Ōkami is the combinative deity of the original deity of a hundred kings.
408

This story has the peculiar distinction of having been recorded twice in the Keiranshūyōshū, both
in the “Matters of Sannō ⼭王御事” and the “Inner Secrets of the Shingon 眞⾔祕奧抄” sections

405
T. 2410, 853a. Shinra myōjin is considered an immigrant deity and a protector of Miidera.
Myōken will figure prominently later in this discussion. This may be a place where the influence of the
Hata family’s connection to the Inari cults is working behind the scenes. The Hata family were
proponents of Myōken veneration from the Heian period. See Ueno Kayoko, Hatashi to Myōken shinkō
(Tokyo: Iwata Shoin, 2010).
406
T. 2410, 732c. Ri 里 here is a unit of measurement roughly equivalent to 654 by 654 meters.
Incidentally, for a smaller province, the head of a white dog or a tanuki would suffice for the ritual.
407
T. 2410, 520a.
408
T. 2410, 520c and 867b. “Inner Secrets of the Shingon” section ends after explaining the three-
pronged flame on the Celestial Fox’s tail, however.
188

of the work. It appears that the Celestial Fox alone among all beasts inherently emits light. This
is because it has a special affinity with Kannon and the cintāmaṇi jewel. Today some fox statues
at the Fushimi Inari shrine and other sites will have a cintāmaṇi affixed to their tails. It was
already stated above that both Inari and Dakiniten were sometimes said to be manifestations of
Kannon.
In its section on Dakiniten, the Keiranshūyōshū does not actually use the term ‘Celestial
Fox.’ However, the connections between Dakiniten’s nature as a beast and role as a teacher are
repeated:
It says in the Texts on the Unprecedented, Indra performed rites for a wild beast 野干 and made it
his dharma teacher. Also, it says in the Nirvana Sūtra, Indra revered a beast 畜 and made it his
dharma teacher. It also is said that those who revere foxes 狐 become kings. [The enthronement
ritual] is in accordance with texts such as these.
Privately it is said that at the time of the sovereign's enthronement abhiṣeka, it is through the rites
of Dakiniten that they are made the king of the land. This arises from the causes and conditions of
the Minister [Fujiwara] Kamatari. It is also said that at the Ise Grand Shrine there are indications
of this. In the stone grotto of the Takakura [shrine], there is this matter [too]. Within the Sūtra for
Humane Kings there is the matter of the grave deity 祭塚神. Carefully consider these things.
409

This is in fact the passage for the Keiranshūyōshū’s discussion of the relationship between
Dakiniten and the emperor’s enthronement abhiṣeka. Here Kōshū attempted to bring in canonical
support for the relationship between Dakiniten and emperor’s sovereignty. The Sūtra for
Humane Kings, the Nirvana Sūtra¸ and the Texts on the Unprecedented have all been arrayed to
prove the legitimacy of the relationship between Dakiniten and the emperor’s sovereignty.
Above, the stories from the Texts on the Unprecedented and the Nirvana Sutra have already been
mentioned.
410
Kōshū also affirmed the claims of other texts that originally this relationship

409
T 2410, 633b.
410
See page 161 above.
189

developed from activities of Fujiwara Kamatari, and that the influence of this relationship
extends to Amaterasu’s Ise Shrines and the Takakura shrine 高倉神社.
Kōshū here has further added a new wrinkle to Dakiniten’s character. Dakiniten’s rituals
are equated with those of the “grave deity 祭塚神” in the Sutra for Humane Kings (仁王経 Ch.
Renwang jing, Jp. Nin’ōgyō, T 246). This is surely a reference to the story of King Kalmāṣapâda
(斑足王 Hansoku ō).
411
In this story, King Kalmāṣapâda follows the instructions of a teacher
who lived among the charnel grounds. This teacher tells the king to gather and behead one
thousand other kings to cement his authority through ritual sacrifice. Kalmāṣapâda dutifully
collects the kings, but the final king requests that he be given one extra day of life to perform the
rites of the Sūtra for Humane Kings. After the rituals, this king and the other nine hundred and
ninety-nine are enlightened. Predictably, Kalmāṣapâda then wishes to be enlightened as well and
has the rituals of the Humane Kings performed for himself. Then becoming enlightened he
decides to spare the other kings and give up his throne to become a monk. Minobe Shigekatsu
suggests that Kōshū has claimed that the teacher of Kalmāṣapâda was a fox or ḍākinī based upon
the notion that such creatures would lurk around charnel grounds.
412

Introducing this story from the Humane Kings into the discourse on Dakiniten here does
present something of a problem. Kōshū largely seems to be confirming the efficacy of
Dakiniten’s rituals and their integral role in the emperor’s enthronement, but in this story the

411
T 246, 840a-b.
412
Minobe Shigekatsu, Chūsei denshō bungaku no shosō (Ōsaka: Hirohashi kensan, 1988), 194-
195. A partial discussion of these themes can be found in W. Michael Kelsey, trans., Minobe Shigekatsu,
“The World View of Genpei Jōsuiki,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 9, no. 2/3 (June-September
1982): 213-233. However, I caution that Kelsey’s translations and interpretations seem to lack some
points originally posited by Minobe.
190

“grave deity” or fox’s rituals are displaced by those offered by the Sūtra for Humane Kings and
King Kalmāṣapâda abdicates. Indeed, Minobe argues that Dakiniten’s rites are best understood in
relation to the conception that the “mighty must fall (盛者必衰 jōsha hissui).”
413
This conception
gripped the minds of many in the age following the decline of the Fujiwara, the Taira, and the
imperial families. It was thought that the fall of the otherwise mighty would be brought about
naturally as they acted contrary to the proper course of the relation between the imperial and
Buddhist laws. After the story of Narichika noted above, the Jōsuiki claimed that King
Kalmāṣapâda’s downfall came after he attempted similar rites. The fact that Kalmāṣapâda
showed up in the Genpei jōsuiki next to the rituals of Dakiniten indicates that this association
may have been widespread. Minobe interprets this story to mean that the ritual efficacy of
Dakiniten has the potential to trample down the intended order and morality of existence.
414

Narichika and Kiyomori draw near to the authority of a sovereign through their performance of
Dakiniten’s ritual, but in doing so they overreach themselves and act contrary to imperial law—
as Dakiniten’s rites are supposed to be for the emperor’s enthronement and those of proper
character. More than Dakiniten being an unusual Buddhist deity, the fact that these rituals have
the potential to contravene the proper imperial order of things may be what makes them truly
heterodox. Following from Minobe’s argument, we are left to wonder if perhaps Kalmāṣapâda
had followed the grave deity’s instructions whether he would have become a king of great
authority, just as Dakiniten’s rituals provide great sovereignty for a rightful emperor.
After the above passages, Kōshū presents a rather more sophisticated description of the
abhiṣeka than what we have examined so far:

413
Minobe, 185-186.
414
Minobe, 190-192.
191

The enthronement abhiṣeka has these four mudrās. Namely, the mudrā of the dharma-body as
principle 理法身印, the mudrā of the dharma-body as wisdom 智法身印, the mudrā of the five
pronged-vajra 五印, and the mudrā of eight petals 八葉印. Secretly it is said that the great
matter of the abhiṣeka is accomplished through these four mudrās. It is made clear in the
scriptures that this deva [Dakiniten], through the abhiṣeka of the Treatise on the Bodhicitta 菩提
心論, finishes the unification of true wisdom. Therefore, this Treatise says: [Imagine] a white
lotus of eight petals, in size like the distance from the elbow to the fingertip, shining brightly with
the letter A, of white light. With meditation and wisdom, enter the adamantine VA, and
summoned in the quiescent wisdom of the Tathagata.
415

Secretly it is said, that through the unborn wisdom of Mañjuśrī, one devours the eight portions of
delusion 迷妄八分, and that this is for the sake of manifesting this matter. The provisional
manifestation of Dakiniten eats the liver and flowers (or liver-flowers? 肝花). It is explained in
the scriptures that this is the receiving and possessing of the eight petals of the womb of vajra
wisdom 剛智體胎藏. Thus, these are the teachings of Vajrayakṣa 金剛夜叉 of that sūtra. That is
to say, the adamantine Vajra 金剛 is the idea of wisdom, and the yakṣas 夜叉 is the idea of
complete consumption. The secret abhiṣeka is the most extreme. When one does not possess the
secret meanings, it is a matter that they should not know.
416

While this version has some clear differences from the earlier “Tōji gosokuihō shidai” version of
the abhiṣeka—most noticeably the addition of a visualization element—there are some
similarities. The “mudrā of the dharma-body as wisdom 智法身印” is most likely another name
for the wisdom-fist mudrā. The five pronged-vajra mudrā is the same as that identified to be
Vajrasattva’s mudrā above. Vajrayakṣa is a noteworthy addition to this discourse. In the Larger
Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra (Mahāprajñāpāramitā sūtra ⼤般若波羅蜜多經 T 220) Vajrayakṣa
is one of the five guardian kings of Mahāvairocana, and further appears as a prominent and

415
This does not actually appear in the Treatise on the Bodhicitta proper, but it does appear in
several commentaries on the Treatise and other works. See for instance, Bodaishin ron kenbun 菩提心論
⾒聞, T 2294, 104b-c. “A” here is a transliteration of the Siddhaṃ letter from which all other sounds, and
additionally all other phenomena, are produced. “VA” is a Siddhaṃ letter that suggests the wisdom of the
vajra and also the authority of Mahāvairocana, as well as the various beings with names beginning “Va”
in this text.
416
T 2410, 633c.
192

powerful bodhisattva in several tantric texts.
417
Obviously related to yakṣas who eat flesh,
sometimes Vajrayakṣa is called the “bodhisattva with the fangs.” Here Kōshū emphasized the
fact that his name brings together wisdom and the carnivorous demon yakṣas. This makes
Vajrayakṣa’s character much like that of Dakiniten. And, there is no mistaking the imagery here:
it is metaphorical, but the practitioner of these rituals is supposed to consume the “eight portions
of delusion 迷妄八分” just as the yakṣas devours flesh. Whatever is left over is wisdom. This act
of devouring or consuming is just what might be expected of a fox or jackal. In other words, in
the context of this ritual, a nature close to that of a beast or demon is necessary for full efficacy.
Yamamoto Hiroko suggests that the connection between the Celestial Fox and the Ise
rituals has associations with other sorts of fox worship at the Grand Shrine. In particular, the Ise
nisho daijingū shinmei hisho (伊勢⼆所太神宮神名秘書, ca. 1285) records that the protective
deity of the Tsuki no mikura 調御倉 was sometimes called the Sankoshin 三狐神, or Three
Foxes Deity.
418
This deity was also known as the Sainai shinnō no tōme kami 斎内親王の専⼥
神, the Old Goddess of the Imperial Princesses. This latter name may have come from the Tsuki
no mikura’s proximity to the Bureau of the Imperial princesses (斎宮寮 Saigūryō), a building
wherein unmarried, female children of the emperor were housed at the time of the new
sovereign’s ascension up to the end of the Kamakura period. These women were to observe

417
The passage on Vajrayakṣa can be found at T 220, 674a. Cf. Muller, “金剛夜叉,” DDB.
418
Yamamoto 2018, 344-347. The Tsuki no mikura 調御倉 was a sort of storage hall for both the
inner and outer shrines of Ise. This Sankoshin as a composite, triad deity that protects the Tsuki no
mikura surely brings to mind Matarajin, the three-headed deity that is supposed to be a guardian of Tōji.
Whether the same god or a near relative, these deities fulfill similar roles and have become wrapped up in
the same constellation of deities.
193

special purity rites and probably were involved in a number of rituals in a medium-like role. The
Sankaiki ⼭槐記 stated that Fujiwara Nakasue 藤原仲季 shot a spirit fox 霊狐 there in 1071.
419

The people called that fox “Shiratōme ⽩専⼥.” “Tōme” was a way to refer to an older woman
and foxes are well-known in legend to gain white fur and great powers when they have lived for
one thousand years. Therefore, this may have been a way to refer to an elderly female goddess.
After the passages that lay out how the ritual should be performed and interpreted, these
texts go on to explain some of the differences between the enthronement ritual as taught by the
Tōji, Sanmon, and Ono-Hirosawa lineages. Therefore, already in 1327, we can be confident that
separate temple lineages were competing to claim sole ownership of the proper way to perform
this ritual.
Dakiniten appears in all of these texts in different ways and with varying degrees of
prominence. In some, like the “Tōji gosokuihō shidai,” her dhāraṇī is simply woven throughout
the ritual practices. In the Amaterasu Ōkami kuketsu, she becomes the “original ground” of
Amaterasu. There she is so important as to be the true form of the imperial ancestor and the very
source of the imperial family’s sovereignty. She is further connected to the authorities of the
Fujiwara. At the same time, foxes begin to appear in the form of the ‘kora’ and the statues of the
gold and silver said to be used in the ceremony. Furthermore, in the Bikisho and the

419
The Sankaiki is the diary of Nakayama Tadachika 中山忠親 (1132-1195) and covers the years
from 1151 to 1194. Nakayama was a prominent courtier of his time and is said to have been involved in
the compilation of the Imakagami 今鏡 and Mizukagami 水鏡 histories. This story appears in the
Sankaiki for the fifth day entry of the intercalary sixth month of the second year of Jishō (治承⼆年,
1178). The episode of 1071 is brought forth as evidence to pass judgement on a warrior who had killed a
fox in the area of the shrine in the fifth month of 1178. Years for Fujiwara Nakasue are unknown;
however, this may actually be Fujiwara Suenaka 季仲 who lived from 1046-1119 and was a member of
the Northern House of the Fujiwawa.

194

Keiranshūyōshū, there is an apparent conflation of the Celestial Fox and Dakiniten. The
Keiranshūyōshū likewise positioned the foxes not just as the trappings of sovereignty, but as the
teachers and the sources of it. The compilers of these texts needed to explain how these rituals
might convey proper and full authority to the future emperor that would perform them. Their
answer was simple: they introduced Dakiniten and her alter ego of the Celestial Fox so as to
borrow all of the efficacy of heteromorphic sovereignty.

Dakiniten Rituals in the East: Documents from the Kanazawa Archive
Texts such as the Keiran shūyōshū and the Bikisho demonstrate the vitality of Dakiniten
and the enthronement ritual’s mythologies in the world of Tōji, Hieizan, and the regents. They
are competing discourses concerning the nature and origins of the emperor’s sovereignty and the
deity. These discourses are all largely fixated on the relations of Amaterasu, the Fujiwara
ancestors, and Dakiniten. However, these are not the only kinds of narratives that exist of this
ritual’s efficacy. Other versions of the rituals turn the focus to different deities or different
aspects of the same deities. Doing so necessarily changes the narratives and the relationships of
the deities involved. Examining these different versions of the enthronement mythologies will
show us some of the ways that Dakiniten’s and the Celestial Fox King’s identity were fleshed out
and expanded.
One of the places that we can see a very different view of Dakiniten and the
enthronement rituals is in documents that have been preserved at the Kanagawa Prefectural
Kanazawa Archive, which is associated with the temple of Shōmyōji 称名寺.
420
These

420
This is the Kanagawa Kenritsu Kanazawa Bunko 神奈川県立金沢⽂庫.
195

documents are from the late Kamakura and early Muromachi periods. Shōmyōji is currently
designated as a Shingon-Risshu school temple, but began as a Ritsu temple with a disciple of
Eison as its rector.
421
It was established in the mid thirteenth century with the support of the
Kanazawa branch of the Hōjō family. While presently within the city of Yokohama, the temple
is in the near vicinity of the shogunate’s capital of Kamakura. Because of its position and
patronage, Shōmyōji served to facilitate the dissemination of esoteric teachings to Kamakura and
the eastern side of Japan.
At least sixty texts related to Dakiniten and her rituals have been passed down to the
present in the archive. Nishioka Yoshifumi has already written much on these documents and
leads the study of them.
422
Beyond just the enthronement rituals that have so far occupied this
chapter, the Dakiniten sources of Shōmyōji contain manuals for several divination rituals that
make use of shikiban 式盤 techniques.
423
Nishioka’s work has provided insights into the form
and structure of these rituals; particularly in relation to how esoteric Buddhist forms of the rituals

421
Cf. Lori Meeks, Hokkeji and the Reemergence of Female Monastic Orders in Premodern
Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2010), 195
422
See Nishioka Yoshifumi, “Dakinihō no seiritus to tenkai,” Ake 31, (1987): 154-177; id.,
“Shikiban wo matsuru shuhō – shōten shikihō, tonjō shijjihō, dakinihō” in Kanazawa Bunko kenkyū 318
(2007): 11-21; id., eds., Onmyōdō kakeru Mikkyō, Kanazawa Bunko kenkyū 320 (2008): 35-47; and id.,
“Aspects of Shikiban-Based Mikkyō Rituals,” Cahiers d’Extrême-Asie 21 (2012): 137-162.
423
These types of rituals are broadly referred to as banpō 盤法. Besides rituals of this type related
to Dakiniten, Nishioka has also identified manuals at Shōmyōji where Shōten or Nyoirin Kannon are the
primary deities. Several other varieties have been found or hinted at in sources throughout Japan and
China, but the Kanazawa archive is an especially rich repository of these otherwise rare document. A
shikiban is a tool for divination composed of a half-sphere or cone, which represents heaven 天, affixed to
a square board, which represents earth 地. In the center of the heaven board would be the Pole Star,
Northern Dipper, Twelve Divine Generals 十⼆神将. Surrounding these on the earth board would be the
twelve branches of the sexagenary cycle, the twenty-eight constellations, and the thirty-six divine beasts.
This would be for a traditionally onmyōdō board. A mikkyō board might exchange a deity such as Kannon
or Dakiniten for the Pole Star—making them the main deity of the divination ritual—and the Twelve
Devas for the twelve branches.
196

adapted technologies that originated in Yin-Yang Daoist and onmyōdō traditions.
424
He has also
endeavored to piece together the possible lineage of the transmission of these rituals to
Shōmyōji. A large portion of the documents that still exist were written down by the second
abbot of Shōmyōji, Kenna (釼阿, 1261-1338), and his disciples, Shūhan (秀範, 1276-?) and Kiin
(熈允, 1295-1377). Their copying of texts would have been roughly contemporary with the
completion of works such as the Keiranshūyōshū and Bikisho. This gives some indication of how
far the influence of these rituals had spread by the beginning of the fourteenth century. This was
also a time of great prosperity for Shōmyōji. Kenna had the good fortune of having the direct
patronage of the fifteenth regent of the Kamakura shogunate, Kanazawa Sadaaki (金沢貞顕,
1278-1333). Perhaps Kenna’s interest in these sorts of texts stemmed from the regent’s desire to
have access to the most recent ritual technologies.
In fact, transmission lineages found in documents such as the Tonjō shijjihō kuketsu
mondō and the Dakini kechimyaku trace the dissemination of these rituals back through China
and India, including familiar names such as Nāgārjuna and Kūkai.
425
While these are likely
fictitious attributions, documents like the Tonjō shijji banpō shidai contain colophons thought to
be written by the monk Kishun 基瞬 (?-1164), which pushes the dates of many texts into the
mid-twelfth century.
426
Because of this, Nishioka supposes that these ritual manuals originally
began to circulate during the late twelfth century, perhaps through the patronage of Retired

424
See particularly, Nishioka, 2007, 11-16; and Nishioka, 2008, 4-6.
425
Tonjō shijjihō kuketsu mondō 頓成悉地法口決問答, SJC case 337, number 103; and Dakini
kechimyaku 吒枳尼血脈, SJC case 401, number 24.
426
Tonjō shijji banpō shidai 頓成悉地盤法次第, SJC case 376, number 20.
197

Emperor Toba and were used to attain worldly benefits.
427
Kenna and his disciples then managed
to bring the transmission of these rituals to Kamakura and the eastern side of Japan.
There are a variety of names given to the enthronement rituals within the Kanazawa
archives. Some texts are simply named Dakini or Dakinihō.
428
Other texts will have similar
contents, but names that are more clearly representative of the purpose of the ritual: Sokui, Rinnō
kanjō, and Tonjō shijjihō.
429
The particularities and differences in ritual structures across the
various documents are not a primary focus here, and I will not dwell long on this point.
However, sources containing the phrase of Tonjō shijji 頓成悉地 in the title are particularly
common. There are also similarly named documents that have been found in other archives, such
as the Inari daimyōjin tonjō shijji daihōden 稲荷⼤明神頓成悉地⼤法伝 kept at the Eizan
Bunko.
430
While these documents continue to assert a relationship with the enthronement rites of
the emperor, as the phrase suggests, these sources primarily claim to provide rituals for the swift
and sudden attainment (tonjō shijji) of this and otherworldly benefits, with an emphasis on
benefits for this world.
431
In any case, it will certainly be apparent following examination that
these documents all inhabit the same mythological world.

427
Nishioka, 2012, 157.
428
Dakini (written in bonji), SJC case 296, number 27; and Dakinihō 吒枳尼法, SJC case 120,
number 16.
429
Sokui 即位 SJC case 296, number 27; Rinnō kanjō 輪王灌頂 SJC case 296, number 27; and
Tonjō shijjihō 頓成悉地法 SJC case 316, number 25.
430
Nishioka 2014, 162. Eizan Bunko is a Tendai archive associated with Enryakuji and Mount
Hiei, outside of Kyoto.
431
For instance, despite some distinct differences in format between the Tonjō shijji banpō and
texts more overtly related to the enthronement ritual, the Tonjō shijji daijinado 頓成悉地⼤事等, SJC
case 296, number 27-5, claims the ritual should observe the logic of the Rinnō kanjō.
198

In the final sections of this chapter, I will explore that world. Along with the instructions
and ritual manuals included in the Kanazawa Archive, numerous commentaries and oral
explanations have been copied down and preserved by Kenna and his colleagues. These texts
provide the logic, myths, and interpretations to justify the efficacy of the rituals. Within such
texts, in what ways are the characteristics of the main deity of the Dakiniten rituals described?
How are the relations between the combined deity of Inari-Dakiniten and other deities depicted?
Especially, I will continue to pay attention to how the divinity of Inari-Dakiniten is associated
with foxes and beasts.

Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu (shi)
First, consider the Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu (shi) 輪王灌頂口決(私)(SJC case 296, number
27). The monk who passed on the teachings of this text was a Kamakura period monk named
“Ryūben 隆弁” (1208-1283). Ryūben was a scholar monk of the Tendai school’s Onjōji, and
eventually became the bettō (別当, “steward”) of Tsurugaoka Hachimangū in 1247 (Hōji 1, 宝治
元年). If the original teaching were conveyed by Ryūben, it would predate most other Dakiniten-
related texts and be right at the beginning of the rise of this discourse.
432
Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu
begins with a description of the enthronement ritual. It is straightforward, similar to texts
examined above, and included instruction for both the sovereign-to-be and the ministers.

432
The reference to Ryūben within the text itself indicates that the document postdates that
monk’s time.
199

Afterwards, the text explained the essence of the rituals and the nature of the main deity in the
following way:
The basis of these rites is this: As they dwell in the rank of the Golden Wheel, this is named the
Abhiṣeka of the Cavravartin. Therefore, after the ascension, (the sovereign) is named the Golden
Wheel Sacred King. This [main deity of the ritual] is precisely the Golden Wheel. The Golden
Wheel is precisely this deity. As they exist alone above the Heaven board, the rank of the Golden
Wheel is high and it has the form of being above the various stars. The Golden Wheel is named
the Bodhisattva of the Celestial North 北辰菩薩. This deity is called the Celestial Bodhisattva 辰
菩薩. Consider this! Consider this! That which is possessed by the Golden Wheel is separated
into the two virtues of the Five Phases and Yin-Yang, and as each is appropriately aligned, these
are called the Seven Stars. The appearance of this alignment is like the form of a running wild
tiger. Therefore, one faces towards the Northern Dipper and says the Great Spell of this deity, and
this is the most secret of rites. The Northern Dipper is precisely the wild tiger that is being ridden.
The Golden Wheel is precisely that Celestial Tiger King bodhisattva 辰乕王菩薩 who rides.
Indeed, they are the “King of All Things (万物ノ王 banbustu no ō).”
433

Now then, in regard to the main deity of these rites, it is not so surprising or unusual that this text
provides a number of explanations for its characteristics and identity. This is quite similar to how
the Genpei jōsuiki required numerous names for the fox that met Kiyomori. Even so, it will be
helpful to confirm the particulars of the names presented here.
In the beginning, the main deity of these rites is identified with the “Golden Wheel (金輪,
Jp. konrin/kinrin).” On one hand, this symbol of the “Golden Wheel” points to the sage king of
the highest rank: the konrin’ō or the “Golden Wheel Cakravartin.” This Golden Wheel King
stands above other human sovereigns and is the king who rules over the four continents of the
world. As the main deity has been associated with the konrin’ō who holds such a position in a
Buddhist world view, it is clear that the deity was intended to be understood as a being that holds
absolute and unsurpassed sovereignty in the Buddhist world. On the other hand, there is one
more important meaning for “Golden Wheel (kinrin)” that is likely being called upon here. There

433
This translation and the rest in this chapter are based upon the original manuscripts as kept at
the Kanazawa Bunko.
200

is also the meaning of the “One-Syllable Golden Wheel Bucchō (⼀字金輪仏頂, Jp. Ichiji kinrin
bucchō).” The same deity referenced by Jien in the Musōki.
434
This is one of the Bucchōson 仏頂
尊 who represent “Buddhist Wisdom.” Just like the position of the Golden Wheel King among
the sage kings, the One-Syllable Golden Wheel Bucchō is the highest of the Five Bucchōson,
and as the “Golden Wheel of Dainichi ⼤⽇ (here, both the sun or Mahavairocana),” they are an
existence that rules over the Vajra Realm from the position of the sun.
435
That is, the “Golden
Wheel” (kinrin) is an existence that is synonymous with the power of the Sun.
Additionally, in this document, besides the clearly esoteric Buddhist associations, the
deity also possesses associations with Yin-Yang and Five Phases thought. As part of the same
golden wheel, they were then taken to be the Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper. For that reason,
in the text the Golden Wheel is identified as the Bodhisattva of the Celestial North (北辰菩薩,
Jp. Hokushin bosatsu). That bodhisattva is Myōken bosatsu.
436
As the bodhisattva of the
Northern Pole Star, they are an existence who protects the land and gives to the people fortune
and long life. Also, in the same way that the Golden Wheel King rules the activities of the
nation, the Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper are thought to govern the movements of the
heavens. The scope of their domains can be thought of as very different. The one is to govern the
movements of the stars, the other to govern terrestrial concerns. Even within Confucius’

434
See Chapter Three.
435
Mochizuki, 140; Nihon Bukkyōgo jiten, 41.
436
This identification is according to the 『七佛八菩薩所説⼤陀羅尼神呪経』(T 1332), which
was translated into Chinese in the fourth or fifth century. Mochizuki, 4784-4785; Nihon Bukkyōgo jiten,
684; Iwanami Bukkyō jiten, 1591. We have already seen Sudarśana above, where they associated with the
Celestial Fox King within the Keiran shūyōshū. Page 172.
201

Analects, the governance of a proper ruler is compared to that of the Pole Star.
437
Evidence
indicates that during their enthronement ceremony, Japanese emperors would wear robes
decorated with the Northern Dipper, the sun, and the moon.
438
The association between
sovereignty and the heavenly bodies was thorough in both the literary and material symbolism of
the enthronement rites.
If we follow the arguments espoused in the stories of the Genpei jōsuiki and the Keiran
shūyōshū, the central deity of this text is supposed to be able to overturn the hierarchies of the
world and bestow good fortune to people. It is in based upon these capacities that the deity is
suitable to bestow sovereignty to the Japanese emperor. To demonstrate the scope and range of
these powers, the author of the Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu (shi) has gathered together all of the
authorities of the Northern Dipper and Seven Stars, the One-Syllable Golden Wheel Bucchō, and
the Golden Wheel Cakravartin and claimed these as inherent to the Celestial Tiger King
bodhisattva 辰乕王菩薩 who is “King of All Things” and oversees these rituals.
After everything else that has been examined in this dissertation, it should be surprising
that within this Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu (shi), the main deity is not a fox, but is instead identified as a
tiger. According to the text, the deity rides a wild tiger (野⻁, Jp. yako). “Wild foxes (野狐, Jp.
yako)” appear in Buddhist discourses from time to time where the term is generally used to refer
to monks who have had lapses in moral judgement.
439
Additionally, the deity is not named the
fox “Shinko’ō bosatsu 辰狐王菩薩,” as one would expect from references to the Celestial Fox

437
Analects 2:1.
438
Lucia Dolce, “The Worship of Celestial Bodies in Japan,” in Culture and Cosmos 10, no. 1 and
2 (Spring/Summer and Autumn/Winter 2006), 10.
439
Cf. Steven Heine, Shifting Shape Shaping Text: Philosophy and Folklore in the Fox Kōan
(Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1999), 3-40.
202

King above, but instead it is called the tiger “Shinko’ō bosatsu 辰乕王菩薩.” Much like the ‘ko’
of the kora shrine attendants might swap in the character for ‘fox,’ it was considered appropriate
by the author of this text to swap the ‘ko fox’ for ‘ko tiger.’ According to the reason provided
within the text, this is because the shape of the constellation of the Seven Stars of the Northern
Dipper is like the “form of a running wild tiger.” However, this association between the Seven
Stars and “wild tigers” is not seen in other sources and may well have been an innovation of the
Kanjō kuketsu’s author.
440

Therefore, as this text identifies the main deity with a tiger, it does not especially
reference the relationship between Inari-Dakiniten and foxes. However, it does point to the
association between beasts and Buddhist authority noted above. Beasts, whether foxes or tigers,
convey the necessary knowledge and authority to support these rituals. When examined from that
perspective, Dakiniten being given a name that clearly denotes her association with beasts
appears natural and likely necessary. Without that relation being made vivid and apparent, the
enthronement goddess’s collection of authorities would be incomplete.
In the following excerpt from the latter half of the Kanjō kuketsu, the author explicitly
stated that the main deity of the enthronement abhiṣeka rite is in fact Inari Ōkami:
Also, in our country, Inari Ōkami is precisely this deity. The activity of carrying rice is the
important matter of erecting rice in the middle of the aforementioned mudrā. The action of
touching the shoulder with the left and right hands in the board’s mudrā, is said to be based on
that [the rice] touching the shoulders.
The association between the main deity and Inari here, while it is stated very clearly, does not
provide much for analysis. It does however make it unquestionable that the connection between

440
Considering the variety of Chinese traditions present in this source, we might consider this
tiger to be an indication of the influence of the Divine Beasts of the directions and Byakko ⽩⻁ would
come to mind. That influence certainly cannot be ruled out, however, the constellation of Byakko is
usually to the west of the Northern Dipper.
203

Inari and these rituals had traveled east. As for the action being described here, there is in the
instructions for the ritual a fifth step that included what is referred to as an abhiṣeka of erecting
rice (米立ノ水丁, beiritsu no kanjō). The following line after the above quotation does go on to
identify this rite as the ‘kanjō rite passed down in esoteric teachings,’ and so it can be certain this
is supposed to reference the unusual mudrā-like action described in the Bikisho and elsewhere.
441

In the above sources, this action was said to represent the sovereign bearing the heavy weight of
the favor of Amaterasu that accompanies the responsibility of ruling Japan. Although in those
other sources, the action is only tersely described, here the author does seem to have provided a
very different interpretation. This unusual movement found in the sovereign’s ascension rites is
now intended to invoke the image of the Inari deity that carries rice upon its shoulders.
Amaterasu has been eliminated from this discourse.
As for this sort of depiction of the Inari Ōkami, such images of the kami appear in works
like the Inari daimyōjin engi that were compiled from the mid-Kamakura period.
442
Recall that in
these works, the kami goes to visit Kūkai Kōbō Daishi at Tōji and according to Kūkai’s
direction, the deity takes up residence on Mount Inari as a protector of the Dharma and the
temple. In these encounters, the Inari deity is depicted carrying rice in bails upon his shoulders.
After this time period, this form of Inari and the story of his meeting with Kōbō Daishi is spread
widely. It is very likely that the author of this Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu had also been influenced by
this story and is intentionally pointing towards the idea that even Inari—the main deity of this
important ritual—has taken refuge in Kūkai to protect the Dharma and bring benefits to sentient
beings.

441
即チ密教ノ中ノ傳法水丁
442
See Chapter Two.
204

Tonjō shijji daiji nado
Next, let us examine a source called Tonjō shijji daiji nado 頓成悉地⼤事等 (SJC case
296, number 27-5). As noted above, there are several texts with ‘tonjō shijji’ included in their
titles within the Shōmyōji archives. Some of the ritual content of this document is thought to go
back all the way to the Heian period, although the particular arrangement found here can only be
confirmed to when it was copied at some point in the mid-Muromachi period.
443

To explain the nature of the enthronement ritual’s main deity and the importance of the
prominent wisdom-fist mudrā, the Tonjō shijji daiji nado provided the following discussion:
In the teachings of intelligence as the fundamental nature of the universe 法界智, the efficacy of
the central deity is that intelligence as the fundamental nature of the universe 法界躰性智 is the
virtue of the universal gate Vairocana the Universal Gate. (The wisdom amid that knowledge is
the Great Sage Mañjuśrī. The knowledge and fortune of that Great Sage Mañjuśrī are) the two
gates that exist. The physical manifestation of those is precisely this deva. The sword of the right
displays wisdom. The jewel of the left bestows fortune. The celestial fox that it rides indicates the
teacher/lion 師子 because it is one of the thirteen kinds of teachers/lions. This dhāraṇī and mudrā
are properly of this teaching – the teaching of the omnipresent response of the wisdom of the
Vajra Realm.
As is widely known, in honji suijaku identities, it is often the case that the deities that are the
original grounds and manifest traces are not in one-to-one relationships, rather, one manifest
trace may have several original grounds.
444
The opposite is likewise possible. Here there is a
prime example of that.
According to an earlier line in this Tonjō shijji daiji nado, for the principal logic of this
text “one had best examine the argument of the Rin’ō kanjō.”
445
In other words, this document
appears to be closely related to the Rin’ō kanjō as described in the previous source. By all

443
Nishioka 2008, 13. Nishioka notes that the cover claims these teachings originated with a monk
from Jingoji 神護寺 named Kenkyō (鑒教, dates unknown). Cf. Yamamoto 2018, 354-355.
444
Cf. particularly Tyler, “Honji Suijaku Faith.”
445
「輪王灌頂ノ事、道理を察す可也」
205

evidence, the author understood the main deity of this document to be the same as the one of the
Rin’ō kanjō. However, here the description of the deity reveals another aspect of existence for
the main divinity of the Dakiniten rites. In the first section of this quotation, instead of the
Northern Constellation or the Golden Cakravartin, this compiler emphasized the deity’s
association with Mañjuśrī. While the above Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu from the previous texts
emphasized astrological thought and Five Changes thought, the Tonjō shijji daiji nado instead
brings the wisdom (chie 智恵) of Buddhist Esoteric thought to the fore.
The original ground of the main deity of this text is here explicitly stated to be Mañjuśrī.
The Keiranshūyōshū made a similar claim. The text also explained that the sword of the right
hand and the jewel of the left hand symbolize the knowledge and fortune of Mañjuśrī,
respectively. Indeed, in many images of Dakiniten she is given very similar characteristics.
446

In a particularly interesting portion of this text, the compiler further added that “[t]he
celestial fox it rides indicates the teacher/lion 師子 because it is one of the thirteen kinds of
teachers/lions.” Most likely, this “thirteen kinds 十三種” refers to the “thirteen buddhas 十三
佛.”
447
The thirteen buddhas preside over the days of ritual for the souls of the deceased.
Mañjuśrī and Vairocana are included among their number.
448
This association may be important,
as later in the text Dakiniten is emphasized to have further connections with death and the realm
of the dead.

446
See Figure 9 and also Hayashi.
447
See Muller, “十三佛,” DDB. List includes 不動明王, 釋迦, ⽂殊, 普賢, 地藏, 彌勤, 藥師, 觀
音, 勢至, 阿彌陀, 阿閦, ⼤⽇ and 虛空藏
448
Mochizuki, 2253; Iwanami Bukkyō jiten, 764.
206

Unlike the previous Kuketsu, here the main deity’s image specifically contains a fox as
the mount is called the “celestial fox 辰狐.” However, within the text the “celestial fox” is also
called a “teacher 師子 shishi.” This word for “teacher 師子 shishi” happens to be a homophone
for the word “lion 獅子 shishi.” Indeed, the characters used for the two words are exceedingly
similar visually. The only difference is that a part, meaning ‘animal’ or ‘beast,’ is added to the
first Chinese character to create the word for lion. In fact, in many cases in the Buddhist canon,
the characters for “lion 獅子” are used for the word “teacher 師子.”
449
Here then, the “celestial
fox” does not only have the form of fox, but it also is equated with the beast that is the lion. Of
course, it is widely known that Mañjuśrī’s mount is the lion, so this further cements the parity
between Dakiniten and Mañjuśrī.
A later section of the Tonjō shijji daiji nado confirms the importance of the relationship
between the ritual’s main deity, Mañjuśrī, and Mañjuśrī’s lion by discussing the cosmological
role of the Celestial Fox King:
Brahma and Indra represent the doctrine of wisdom 智恵. Each has renewed their original form
and display the signs of officials of hell. They grasp a brush and carry a tablet, and record deeds
of good and bad. They present that record tablet and report to the Celestial Fox King (Shinko’ō).
Meticulously, there are rewards and punishments in accordance to those good and bad deeds.
Therefore, among those who trust and practice [these rites], formidable spiritual attainments
manifest. The swiftness or slowness of responses is according to the depth or shallowness of their
practice. Originally, Brahma and Indra were the lords of the thirty devas. They are known to have
taken a wild beast 野干 as their teacher and learned the Dharma. They displayed reverence for the
Dharma and respect for their teacher and followed as a retainer. When one is studying the
Dharma, they should especially perform activities of charity and reverence. This will be clearly
recorded on one’s tablet and reported to the Celestial Fox King.

449
Iwanami Bukkyō jiten, 547.
207

Again, the story from above of Indra, or Brahma and Indra, taking a wild beast (yakan) as their
teacher and from that beast learning the Dharma is referenced. The repetition of this story alone
shows well the wide-spread tendrils of heteromorphic sovereignty discourse. It also is another
way of reminding the reader of the beast’s role as a teacher.
Also, this text indicates Dakiniten’s qualities of being associated with death. Following
from the traditions surrounding Yixing’s 724 Commentary, the ḍākinī or foxes of this text have
been labeled as just wild beasts (yakan). That text also claimed that these demonesses were able
to know the death of a human six months prior to it happening and then would eat the hearts of
those who are going to die. Then, maybe based upon this association between ḍākinī and the
death of people, some would perform the rites of Dakiniten to force them to prolong one’s life.
Here however, the deity’s does not hold only those abilities, but the Celestial Fox King’s
authority has further expanded. They also take on the role of an underworld official and know
the good and bad of people’s actions. In the process, the great devas Brahma and Indra, the past
leaders of all other gods, have come under the Celestial Fox King’s rule.
In the Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu shi, there was also an emphasis on Inari’s and Dakiniten’s
authority to rule the heavens, but here in the Tonjō shijji daiji nado this authority was explained
in different ways and firmly tied to the wisdom of the buddhas through the medium of beasts
such as the fox and the lion. Together, all of this imagery and explanation served to firmly tie
Dakiniten to Mañjuśrī’s esoteric wisdom, while also appending to the divinity a further authority
over the realm of the dead. Both this world and the next are the domain of the deity of these
rituals.

208

Shinbosatsu kuden and Shinbosatsu kuden jō kuketsu
Finally, I will consider two texts called Shinbosatsu kuden (SJC case 317, number 47)
and Shinbosatsu kuden kuketsu (SJC case 317, number 49). These two texts are stored together at
the Kanazawa Archives. According to the postscript of the Kuketsu, it was copied by Kenna’s
disciple Shūhan in the second month of 1314.
The Shinbosatsu kuden contains a striking metaphorical description of Dakiniten’s
mudrā:
For the so-called mudrā of ḍākinī: the right fist presses into the waist and one raises the left palm.
Using the tongue, they lap up blood. This is an act of great vigor. The left [hand] is reason.
Reason is the buddha-nature 佛性 that accompanies the bodies of the beings of the nine dharma
realms. That buddha-nature is the wondrous principle of the Dharma-body. The Dharma-body of
cultivating merit is the Byakko’ō ⽩狐王. Through the tongue of wisdom, they lap up the blood
of ignorance and eliminate it. The essence of myriad thusness manifests the lotus flower of
intrinsically pure enlightenment. Amidst the eight petals of the middle platform is the meditating
Mahāvairocana mudrā of eight petals. This is the principle for when it is said that the Nine
Honored Ones are the intrinsic dharma-body. Consequentially, amid the bodies of all sentient
beings there is the Mahāvairocana mudrā of eight petals, and the manifestation of the various
Nine Honored Ones is the action of King Dakini. Therefore, King Dakini is the mother of the
various buddhas of the three ages.
While much of the particulars are unclear, it appears that the form of the mudrā described here is
much different from that of the previously mentioned Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu (shi). According to
this document, using the left hand to lap up the “blood of ignorance” reveals the “wondrous
principle of the Dharma-body.” In the Mahāvastu, while describing the horrors of the animal
realm, it was once said “they devour one another; they drink one another’s blood; they kill one
another; they destroy one another.”
450
This was supposed to mark the ignorance of animals.
Here, the Kuden turned this logic on its head and asserted that the drinking of blood reveals
wisdom and the Dharma. Also, the very Dharma-body is taken to be the White Fox King
(Byakko’ō, ⽩狐王), which must be another name for the Celestial Fox King.

450
Mahāvastu (T. 125) is an early Indian work. Translated in Ohnuma, 51.
209

According to the Iwanami Bukkyō jiten, “the dharma-body is the buddha as the absolute
foundation of buddhahood.”
451
In other words, if the Celestial Fox King is the dharma-body, then
in this passage the Celestial Fox King is being described as the foundation of all buddhas. Likely,
this is why Dakiniten, or in this text actually called “King Dakini (Dakini’ō),” was here referred
to as the “mother of the various buddhas of the three ages (三世ノ諸佛ノ⺟, Jp. Sansei no
shobutsu no haha).” Usually, this title is given to Butsugan bumo. Note that Jien claimed her as
one of the divinities present and foundational to his view of the enthronement rituals.
452
She is
one of the few prominent female buddhas and known as the mother of Mahāvairocana. In
explanation for why Butsugan is given this title, the Hishō kuketsu 祕鈔口決 (ca. mid-16
th

century) says, “this Honored One well gives birth to the knowledge of buddha nature 法性の理
智.”
453
If this explanation holds for the early fourteenth century as well, then it is clear that if
King Dakini is Butsugan bumo, she gives birth to knowledge. In other words, the capacity for
King Dakini to manifest the various Honored Ones stems from her association with Butsugan
bumo and, as above, wisdom.
I would posit that emphasizing the tongue that reveals wisdom also comes from Inari-
Dakiniten’s associations with Mañjuśrī the bodhisattva of wisdom that we read above, however,
it is also important to note that the action of lapping up blood with a tongue is an activity
appropriate most to a beast or animal. For this metaphor to make sense, it requires at least the
background presence of a creature such as a fox or a lion. The language has become more

451
Translated from Iwanami Bukkyō jiten, 659.
452
See Chapter Three, pages 167-171.
453
Translated from Iwanami Bukkyōgo jiten, 659.
210

intense, and this is no longer an activity in which a human being or regular divinity with a human
form might usually engage. The trappings of heteromorphic sovereignty and the imagery of
beasts are necessary here for this discourse to be compelling. It also then makes sense that the
dharma-body would take the form of a White Fox King to lap up the “blood of ignorance.”
The Shinbosatsu kuden jō kuketsu, which elaborates the basic Kuden, adds more layers to
the arguments that provide the explanation for the symbology of this ritual world. In relation to
the importance of the fox, the Kuketsu further says:
It is said that this deity is the complete form of the Shingon Lotus flower. Its virtues are divided
into yin and yang. This is as the south and north. Consequentially, the yin of the ritual altar arises
from the Northern heavens and the gold of the yang comes forth from the Southern heavens. The
this-worldly benefits of the Lotus flower are also like this. They become the Naga girl of the
northern seas and speak of enlightenment in the southern regions. Is this not natural? Certainly,
this is a profound reason. It is just that Celestial Fox produces the yin, yang, logic, and knowledge
of the Northern Celestial. As the Northern Celestial, they are divided into the Seven Stars and
give the roots of life to sentient beings. As the Celestial Fox, they manifest in the Southern and
Northern constellations and foretell the blessings and ill fortune of the world. Thusly, long life
and good fortune are bestowed, and it is by this deity that they are possessed. They are a deity
most worthy of veneration…Also, as for the sun and moon, when they are brought together…they
are both explained to be Dakiniten. This deity is simply the wish-fulfilling jewel. Therefore, they
are named the Wish-fulfilling Jewel King Bodhisattva (宝珠王菩薩, Jp. Hōju’ō bosatsu). The sun
and the moon are like the jewel. Therefore, they are called the Sun Wish-fulfilling Jewel and the
Moon Wish-fulfilling Jewel. Thus, the Deva of the Sun is the spirit of the red fox and the Deva of
the Moon is the divine jewel of the white fox. The meditation practices of the sun and moon of
the deity are separate. They should be examined. This is most profound and secret.
This passage primarily explains the relationship between the Celestial Bodhisattva (Jp.
Shinbosatsu), Celestial Fox, and celestial constellations. Certainly, the characteristics of the deity
as described here overlap with those as raised in the Rin’ō kanjō. The bodhisattva is imagined in
terms of the stars and heavens, and their abilities to bestow blessings comes from this. Yin-Yang
thought is also reintroduced, and the traditional logic of parity is utilized to explain the
generation of these blessings. The content seems to be largely a retelling or re-conceptualization
of the matter from the previous passage of the Shinbosatsu kuden.
211

In other words, much like King Dakini gives birth to the various Honored Ones and
knowledge, the Northern Celestial “give[s] the roots of life to sentient beings” and the Celestial
Fox provides long life and good fortune. The Northern Celestial and the Celestial Fox move the
heavens through the exercise of these abilities. Just as in the Tonjō shijji daiji nado the Celestial
Fox King is the ultimate source of rewards and punishments, the deity and its movement of the
heavens are here tied to the prediction of good and bad fortune.
The latter half of this passage further adds more examples of this deity’s ability to create.
The deity is considered identical with a composite of the two Wisdom Kings Fudō and Aizen.
This associates Dakiniten with the non-duality of the sun and moon, taken as symbols for the two
deities. This non-dual entity is further identified with the cintāmaṇi, the wish-fulfilling jewel that
has so often been a symbol of Dakiniten. This jewel is called ‘wish-fulfilling’ precisely because
it is an object with the potential to create all things. It is for this reason that the deity is named the
Wish-fulfilling Jewel King and the sun and moon are also taken to be wish-fulfilling jewels.
Albeit, through the relationship with the Celestial Fox it is elaborated that the “Deva of the Sun
is the spirit of the red fox and Deva of the Moon is the divine jewel of the white fox.” This
reiterates that there is some generative potential present in the form of the fox itself.

Conclusions
In these texts from the Kanazawa Archives, the associations between the main deity of
the abhiṣeka enthronement rites and various other deities and beasts are described again and
again. Within the Rin’ō kanjō kuketsu (shi) the divinity that appeared here as the primary god of
the ascension rites was bound to the Inari deity and sovereignty through ideas related to the
North Pole Star and the Seven Stars, The One Syllable Golden Wheel Buddha, and the Golden
212

Cakravartin. At the same time, this deity that was called the “King of All Things” was also
named the Celestial Tiger King bodhisattva. Then, in the Tonjō shijji daiji nado, the main deity
who rides a fox was considered a manifestation of Mañjuśrī, the bodhisattva of wisdom, and it
was precisely because of this association that the deity, sometimes named as the Celestial Fox
King, was able to manifest sovereignty. Finally, according to the Shinbosatsu kuden and
Shinbosatsu kuden jō kuketsu, precisely because King Dakini and the White Fox King have the
forms of foxes, in their position as the dharma-body, they give birth to the various buddhas,
eliminate “ignorance,” and provide knowledge and life. For these reasons the deities were said to
have the capacity to bestow blessings to sentient beings. The main deity of the Dakiniten rites
had many meanings and was made to take on many shapes. Most importantly, her associations
with the origins of wisdom and the movements of beasts were consistently in the background of
Dakiniten’s authority.
This is to say that in the records and legends of the Dakiniten rites, the divinity of Inari-
Dakiniten is not capturable in the identity of a single buddha, kami, or deity, and rather it
requires a multi-faceted and multivalent nature. Therefore, within these rituals, the various forms
and qualities of the goddess needed to be so often explained. The trappings of heteromorphic
sovereignty are all over this discourse and it is through the potential found in the upholding of
liminal existences that the joining of many names and powers can be accomplished. Within
medieval Japan, as Dakiniten was the subject of a cult and beliefs closely associated with the
contested fields of political and social authority, her form and qualities were determined
according to multiple discourses, and therefore she had a composite buddha-kami identity.
Additionally, the wild powers of beasts like foxes and tigers were lent to the goddess and
allowed her to supersede other buddhas and kami.
213

Inari does not appear in all the above records, but the fact that the kami continually
resurfaces demonstrates that the deity must have remained in the background, their connection to
imperial and heteromorphic sovereignty ready to be redeployed. Now then, within these
materials, how were kami understood? What sorts of discourses determined the identity of a
kami like Inari? How does the association with heteromorphic sovereignty affect the identity of
the Inari kami? In the medieval period, the identities of kami were certainly formed by
syncretism and composition. That fact is well-known and established in the work of Fabio
Rambelli and others, as noted in this dissertation’s Introduction. The kami were not only
identified through Buddhist esoteric, honji suijaku thought, but also identified and associated
with other kami through celestial cults and five elements thought. Here though, in the stories of
Inari-Dakiniten is something that is missed when most of scholarship focuses on the workings
and re-workings of honji suijaku systems: the syncretism or composition of this deity was not
particularly hierarchical.
While sometimes Dakiniten was labeled a manifestation of Mañjuśrī, just as often Inari
was precisely equated to the main deity of the enthronement rituals or the Celestial Fox/Tiger
King was said to be just another form of the Golden Wheel Sacred King. There was no apparent
need to place one deity above another. Additionally, it does not appear that deities were related
or connected to other gods so as to limit or delimit the qualities of a kami, but rather it was more
likely for the sake of broadening a kami’s identity and creating new connections for that cult’s
network and the personality of the kami within the cultural imagination. This was very likely the
goal of the Inari-Dakiniten cult as found in the Kanazawa Archive materials: to expand and
justify the authority of this divinity that overshadowed the enthronement rites for Japan’s
emperor. It is for this reason that in the form of the identity of Inari, the characteristic of being
214

multifaceted is so strong. Through their multifaceted nature and capacity to maintain many and
varied connections, Inari, the rites of Dakiniten, and the Inari shrine all would have been very
appealing to the contemporary society.
It is unknowable how much of this discourse escaped from the Buddhist institutions to
reach the attention of the general populace. Yet, I would suggest, as Gorai has before, that
scholarship has too often readily claimed the separation between popular and elite Inari
traditions. The prevalence of statues of foxes holding scrolls and wish-fulfilling jewels in their
mouths do not make much sense separate from the proliferation of the above discourses. And,
considering the Toyokawa Inari shrine’s role in the establishment of many branch shines during
the late Edo period, where images of Dakiniten served as the primary form of Inari, the myths
binding Inari to her must have maintained their influence well into the modern period. This
cosmology of sovereignty and beasts had created the current symbols that allowed the Inari cult
to spread.
215

CHAPTER FIVE: Inari and Matsuri
As evident in the previous chapters, the priests, monks, and aristocrats that supported
Inari were highly active in the spheres of political and religious institutions. The kami Inari had
risen to the top of multiple intellectual and religious discourses. At the same time, we know that
the Inari shrine enjoyed widespread popularity among many kinds of people in medieval Japan.
Consider for instance the following story from the thirteenth century collection of stories known
as the Konjaku monogatarishū 今昔物語集 that begins with an account of the festivities
involved in a pilgrimage to the mountain in this way:
In a time now long ago, the First Horse Day of the Second month was the day on which the
people—low, middle, and high—from the city would all travel [to the Inari shrine], calling it the
"Inari Pilgrimage."

On that past First Horse Day, like most years, it was a year in which many people pilgrimaged [to
the shrine]. The attendants of the Imperial Guards also went. Owari no Kanetomo, Shimotsuke no
Kinsuke, Matsuta no Shigekata, Hata no Takekazu, Matsuta no Tamekuni, and Karube no
Kintomo, while only minor attendants, had their servants come along and carry bundles of food,
snack boxes, and sake. As they came close to the Middle Shrine, in the midst of people on their
way up and down from the peaks, they met a beautiful woman dressed in fine clothing. Below a
fine outer garment of deep purple, she wore layered robes of plum red and yellow green. She
walked in a charming fashion. As the attendants were coming, she moved out of the road and hid
in the shadow of a tree.
454

In what follows, Matsuta no Shigekata 茨⽥重方 and the woman exchange words and Shigekata
attempts to seduce the woman, with her apparently leading him on.
455
As Shigekata appears to
have finally convinced her to succumb to his rather aggressive manner, the woman reveals
herself to be his long-frustrated wife, there to embarrass him for his frequent adulterous ways.

454
This is Konjaku scroll 28, story 1. Translated from Konjaku monogatarishū, Shin Nihon koten
bungaku taikei (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten), 186.
455
Shigekata shows up in several texts, so this might have been a real person or a common stock
character. See Kitayama Mitsumasa, “Matsuta Shigekata kō: Inariyama de no setsuwa to sono jitsuzō,”
Ake 57 (2014): 46-60.
216

The narrative for this story is fictional, but the setting here at the opening likely provides
a sense of what was familiar to the original audience and could be expected for a pilgrimage to
Mount Inari during the medieval period, especially at a time of matsuri, or festival. There seems
to be a clear air of celebration. Matsuta Shigekata and his friends have come to Inari’s mountain
for enjoyment and pleasure. They have brought drinks and food. The people around them are
dressed in fine clothing. The story even indicates that it is not unusual for people to approach
other pilgrims for socializing or some form of romance. Based upon the contents of this story, it
would seem that a journey and pilgrimage to Mount Inari was, in part, fun and it was expected to
be so.
Matsuri 祭, often referred to as “festivals” in English, were ritual events connected to
shrines and temples that usually involved a festive and public aspect that drew on the
involvement of many people from many different walks of life. Major shrines, such as the Inari
Great Shrine, are liable to have many such matsuri in a given year.
456
The largest such matsuri
would involve multiple days of celebrations wherein ritual performances by shrine officials
would occur right alongside theatrical performances by regular citizens. The impressions from
premodern records and evident in the displays of modern matsuri is not unlike Western versions
of Carnival in some cases.
As matsuri tend to involve many people from many backgrounds who cooperate and
coordinate to propitiate kami, they reasonably have multiple layers of meaning as each group
may have different priorities for the festival. It is common to recognize that these festivals

456
See Table 2 for a list of major modern Inari festivals. I will not examine all matsuri of Inari in
this chapter. There are too many to do so. Many of the modern Inari matsuri are relatively new, with their
origins dated to the Edo period. The most extensive work on Inari festivals has been carried out by Ōmori
Keiko, who has published monographs on Inari matsuri in 1994 and 2011. See bibliography for those
volumes.
217

provide offerings to deities. They provide food, feasting, and artistic entertainment for the gods
to enjoy. Also, through the great effort that is so often required in these festivals, humans seem to
offer up their own life to the kami.
457
Some matsuri have been understood to ritually renew the
world. In such a view, the offerings just described serve the purpose of drawing the attention of
the kami and bringing them directly into interaction with the world so as to infuse a proper
sacrality.
458
Matsuri should also be understood as serving to bring together the communities that
interact to execute the festivities. By being large events that benefit from and require the
participation of multiple groups, they necessitate and actualize harmonious cooperation.
459
This
too is resonant with the importance of human effort in the provisioning of matsuri. As Carmen
Săpunaru Tămaş explained, “by taking part in the local festival once a year, each individual not
only re-asserts his or her position as a member of the community, but also validates the existence
of the community itself and ensures its continuity."
460
The occasional festival and the
cooperation entailed brings together varied groups of humans to work together and demonstrates
that they can in fact do so, so long as they have the needs of the kami to compel them. Of course,
as a public event of great spectacle, a matsuri has immense political potential. If a person
provides visible and successful oversight to a festival, they may both demonstrate the
effectiveness of their authority and gain the admiration of many. Yet, I will echo the assessment
of Michael Dylan Foster and Elisabetta Porcu: it is of little significance to state that these
festivals occupy both the political and religious spheres, but rather we should see that “matsuri

457
For a thorough articulation of this concept, see Carmen Săpunaru Tămaş, “Working for the
gods: feasting and sacrifice at Saijo Matsuri,” Romanian Journal of Artistic Creativity 4, no. 2 (Summer
2016): 158 - 169.
458
For a careful explanation of this position, see the work of Herbert Plutschow, “Matsuri in
Everyday Japan,” Japan Quarterly 44, no. 3 (July-September 1997): 66-77.
459
For an argument that uses this idea to illustrate the indispensable nature of imperial matsuri in
modern Japan, see Morita, Daijōsai no okori to jinja shinkō.
460
Tămaş, 164.
218

articulate the exquisite way in which the religious and the political are always symbiotic,
intertwined, complementary, and often indistinguishable."
461
Matsuri are an excellent example of
how interwoven the religious sphere of life is with all aspects of society.
At the same time, because of their vivid visual aspects and their reliably periodic nature,
matsuri seem to become part of the landscape itself.
462
This is in part because matsuri so often
involve residents parading their local deities through the roads and streets of the cities and towns
in which they live. This will be the case below when the Inari Festival follows particular routes
and stops at particular places, infusing those paths and spots with special meaning for those
familiar with the matsuri’s rites. The movement of the kami’s procession through the streets is
always marked and affects the perception of those streets, so that they become identified with the
matsuri and the kami’s movements. On the other hand, this is also true in that the religious
narratives for festivals and the accompanying ritual practices are typically informed by the
natural environment. This also will be the case below when the Inari shrine’s position on a
mountain undergirds the ways in which people participate in its matsuri. Additionally, the
activities of the festival are determined by the relative location of the shrine to the city and to the
temple of Tōji. The path of the processions could not be anything largely different than what it is
if the matsuri is to properly reflect the relation between the Inari shrine, Tōji, and the city. On
these two levels, a kami festival’s emplacement can radically transform a space into a sacred
place.
This chapter will be dedicated to examining how the Inari shrine and its supporters chose
to celebrate and venerate the Inari kami in the public sphere. Why might people travel to the

461
Michael Dylan Foster and Elisabetta Porcu, “Introduction: Matsuri and Religion in Japan,”
Journal of Religion in Japan 9 (2020): 4.
462
This is a point particularly emphasized by Foster and Porcu in the recent special issue of the
Journal of Religion in Japan. See Foster and Porcu, 1-9.
219

mountain of Inari? What practices were involved? How did these relate to the rest of the Inari
cult teachings and practices? While sparse, there are extant records related to the matsuri of Inari
that will allow us to provide some answers to these questions. I am going to focus primarily on
two specific festivals of Inari, the Hatsuuma Taisai and the Inarisai, as these are the most
prevalent in medieval sources of Inari and therefore allow for the most substantive analysis. This
focus on the festivals of Inari is intended to offset the preceding chapters that were primarily
about the kami within intellectual and esoteric discourses. The attention to practices related to
the festivals will allow for a view of the broad popularity of the kami. It will become clear that
Inari’s matsuri provided an effective means for the cult to reach its modern ubiquity.

Hatsuuma Taisai 初午⼤祭
The Konjaku monogatarishū story cited previously takes place on a hatsuuma no hi, or
First Day of the Horse, in the second month of the lunisolar calendar.
463
It is the day of the
Hatsuuma Festival (初午⼤
祭 Hatsuuma Taisai). The
Day of the Horse
corresponds to the seventh
day of a twelve-day cycle.
This is an especially
auspicious day. According
to Yin-Yang theories, such

463
This is according to the previous calendar that used lunisolar months. Seasonally, it is roughly
equivalent to the 15th of March today. However, the modern Hatsuuma festival is still held in February.
Figure 10. Visitors to the Hatsuuma
Festival queueing to offer prayers. Photo
by author.
220

as those in the Wuxing dayi 五行⼤義 and the Hoki naiden 簠簋内伝, the First Day of the Horse
corresponds to the time when yang positive energies are at their pinnacle.
464
If one wanted to
visit a deity to ask for a blessing, this would be a particularly good time to do so. Naoe Hiroji
also astutely points out that the First Day of the Horse would also have been around the time that
farmers began planting new crops, so it is a logical day to journey for an agrarian deity’s
blessings.
465
The First Day of the Horse of the second month in 711 is formally recognized as the
day on which Inari first manifested on the mountain. Whether viewed from the espoused history
of the shrine or Yin-Yang theories, this is the best day for one to pay their respects to the Inari
Ōkami.
A major component of the Hatsuuma
Festival is the acquisition of sprigs of Japanese
cedar from the Inari shrine.
466
These are known as
shirushi no sugi (験の杉 “Cedar of Omen”) and
are said to indicate the kami’s favor (Figure 11).
While the exact origins of the practice are
unknown, it is undoubtedly related to the idea in
works like the Yamashiro fūdoki and Tenryaku

464
Kuroda Minoru, 111-112. For instance, the Wuxing dayi explains that go 午 is equivalent to the
greatest source of yang, the sun, and that this leads to all derivatives of 午, such as uma ⾺, also being
high in Yang. Cf. Nakamura Shōhachi and Shimizu Hiroko, eds., Gogyō daigi ge (Tokyo: Meiji shoin,
1998), 264-266.
465
Naoe, 13.
466
Technically, while an evergreen, Japanese cedar (Cryptomeria japonica), is not a member of
the cedar genus and is instead a cypress. There is also a Japanese cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa, 檜
hinoki).
Figure 11. Image of shirushi no sugi acquired
by author at 2019 Hatsuuma Festival. Photo
by author.
221

Jingikan kanmon that the fortune of the Hata family was revealed by whether the trees of Inari
that they had planted among their homes were withering or thriving.
467
Additionally, the shirushi
no sugi should be understood as a yorishiro 依代 or a himorogi 神籬, an object representative of
a particular kami in which it can temporarily dwell. Today many come to the Fushimi Inari Great
Shrine to acquire their own and take one back home (Figures 10 and 12). This Cedar of Omen
was a prominent symbol of Inari and those that wanted the kami’s protection throughout
history.
468
For instance, in the Kagerō nikki, when the Mother of Michitsuna traveled to the Inari
shrine and presented poems at the three main shrines, she made reference to the shirushi no sugi
in her work.
469
Her niece, the daughter of Sugawara Takasue, also composed a poem alluding to
the cedar on her visit to the shrine in the Sarashina nikki.
470
One story from the Heiji monogatari
平治物語 even reports that Taira no Kiyomori stopped by the Inari shrine to obtain a cedar
branch after Minamoto Yoshitomo began what would be known as the Heiji Disturbance.
471

While tangential, this recalls Kiyomori’s meeting with a Noble Fox Heavenly King in the guise
of a woman that happens in the Genpei jōsuiki, which was discussed at the beginning of the

467
See Chapter Two.
468
See also, Shimura Arihiro, “Inari densetsu kō: fu ‘Onnake Inari engi,” Ake 39 (1996): 153-155.
469
Kikuchi Yasuhiko, Kimura Masanori, and Imuta Tsunehisa, Tosa nikki Kagerō nikki (Tōkyō:
Shōgakkan, 1995), 149-150.
470
Hasegawa Masaharu, Imanishi Yūichirō, Itō Hiroshi, and Yoshioka Hiroshi, eds. Tosa nikki
Kagerō nikki Murasaki shikibu nikki Sarashina nikki (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. 1989), 421.
471
Heiji monogatari, NKBZ 41, 438.
222

previous chapter.
472
Kiyomori was
briefly quite successful following the
Heiji Disturbance. The Heiji
monogatari serves as further
evidence that Kiyomori’s momentary
flourishing was variously associated
with Inari-Dakiniten in medieval
Japanese imaginations and that this
might have spurred others to seek the benefits of the shirushi no sugi. There is additionally an
early nineteenth century work by Ban Nobutomo called the Shirushi no sugi about the nature and
history of the Inari shrine. In that work, Nobutomo included some of the stories he knew that
made note of the efficacy of Inari’s cedar branches.
473
The title of the work is indicative of just
how significant a part of the Inari cults the Cedar of Omen had become by the Edo period. The
taking of these branches taps into the mythology of Inari and allows the pilgrims to become
active participants in Inari’s story.
It is certain that people were going on pilgrimage to Mount Inari on this day by the
middle of the Heian period. For instance, the well-known author of Tsurezuregusa, Ki no
Tsurayuki 紀貫之 (d. 945), composed this poem in 906 on a hatsuuma no hi: “I am alone and
while I have yet to cross over Inariyama, the mists of spring rise to conceal it.”
474
His poem is a
simple, if melancholic, verse of propitiation and gives little sense of the nature of events at

472
See Chapter Three.
473
Fushimi Inari Taisha Shamusho, Inari taisha yuishoki shūsei (Kyōto: Fushimi Inari Taisha
Shamusho, 1972), 16-18. There are many more such stories than I have already listed.
474
Gunsho ruijū, scroll 247, page 557. This is one of several poems that Ki no Tsurayuki was
commissioned to compose for a decorative folding screen.
Figure 12. Visitors to the Hatsuuma
Festival in February of 2019. Photo by
author.
223

Inariyama in that year. Nonetheless, it shows that the connection between Inari and that day is
already established. Sei Shōnagon’s visit that was cited in Chapter One also took place on this
day.
475
Other tenth century nobles journeyed to Mount Inari on this day as well, such as
Minamoto Shitagō 源順 (911-983), Ōnakatomi Yoshinobu ⼤中臣能宣 (d. 992), and Ōnakatomi
Sukechika ⼤中臣輔親 (954-1038).
476
The Ōkagami sets a memory of its narrator Yotsugi
amidst a boisterous crowd at the Inari shrine for hatsuuma no hi in the second month.
477
We can
get the sense from Sei Shōnagon’s encounter with a pilgrim, seemingly of a lower social class,
and the account from the Konjaku monogatarishū that there was some degree of mixing between
social groups when they gathered here for the festivities. It is unclear though whether that is a
result of the shrine being so crowded that strict social separation would be impossible (as it is
today if someone were to visit the shrine for the modern Hatsuuma Festival) or if it was instead a
feature born from the focus on the ritual environment rather than usual social decorum.
Sei Shōnagon’s account of her visit does give a sense of the determination and effort
required to climb the mountain and venerate Inari for those who intended to do so. Sei left her
home sometime around dawn and then arrived at the mountain near ten in the morning.
478
She
was only part of the way up the mountain when the sun was high in the sky. This was clearly a
full-day affair and a strenuous one for her. On the other hand, the pilgrim that she met who was

475
Full episode on pages 69-70.
476
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 105-106.
477
Ōkagami, Nihon koten bungaku zenshū 34, 367-369.There is also a story about how Koushi,
the daughter of Fujiwara Kanemichi, was able to gain the attention of her father and eventually end up as
the empress of Emperor En'yū 円融天皇 following pilgrimages to many shrines, with Inari being the only
named shrine in the episode. See Ōkagami, 210-211. Cf. Helen Craig McCullough, Okagami, The Great
Mirror: Fujiwara Michinaga and His Times (Princeton: Princeton University Press: 2014), 154-155 +
213-214.
478
Watanabe Shōgo, 38.
224

in the middle of seven trips up and down the mountain indicates that some were well prepared
for the strain. Today there are stone steps to make the ascent of the mountain much easier. Of
course, as noted before, a new shrine was erected at the foot of the mountain wherein the Inaris
of the five peaks were combined at the end of the fifteenth century and so now few people
actually choose to go all the way up the mountain.
What would have caused Sei Shōnagon to strain herself so much as to make this climb
despite her obvious discomfort? Unfortunately, she does not specify her reason for the
pilgrimage and so we cannot know. It is the case that Inari was mentioned in a second passage of
the Makura no sōshi, where Sei designates the shrine as a place of retreat. This could have been
her reason here as well, even if there is no indication in the former passage that she intended an
extended stay. However, to assist in this speculation, it is important to consider that there was a
marked connection between the Inari shrine and entreaties from authors for assistance in their
love lives or those of their dependents.
For instance, in the Kagerō nikki, when the Mother of Michitsuna reached the Upper
Shrine she presented a poem in prayer: “Although I have brought my sorrows up and down to the
many kami, I still feel as if my fortunes do not flourish.”
479
The prose text around the poems she
presented at all three shrines makes it clear that she had come to try and improve her relationship
with Fujiwara Kaneie, the father of Michitsuna and regent of the realm. Indeed, most poems
dedicated to Inari from the Heian period are love poems.
480

479
Kagerō nikki, 149-150. The fact that she notes that she has prayed to many kami is in
recognition of the multiple kami of the multiple peaks, although she also has made this pilgrimage as part
of a series of journeys to several shrines, and instead may be addressing kami other than Inari here.
480
Cf. Oda Takeshi, “Heianchō ni okeru utamakura toshite no Inari(yama),” Ake 60 (2017): 93-
106. There are also several of these that are intended for use on decorative screens.
225

Inari: Kami of Love?
So, is Inari a deity of love in broad, cultural imaginations? Inari’s connection with love
and relationships is most vivid in the content of the passage from the Shinsarugakuki cited in
Chapter Two.
481
In that story, the fictional wife of Uemon no jō had traveled to Mount Inari to
perform an Aihō 愛法, or love ritual, of some sort. In this eleventh century text, we clearly see
Inari, Akomachi, foxes, and the Yaksha of Tōji bound together like they were in the esoteric,
heterodox rituals of the previous chapter. Remember too that in the Inariki, Inari wanted to be
known as the “Kami of Love of the Dharma 愛法神.”
482
That translation of the Inari deity’s
name was appropriate to the heavy Buddhist context and terminology of the Inariki, but paired
with the story of the Shinsarugakuki, I think it is clear that the name had a second possible
meaning. Inari could also be known as the “Kami of the Rites of Love.”
483
It is unclear whether
the Inariki author intended to affirm this previous association from the eleventh century or
reform it. Yet, outside of the realm of esoteric texts, we can find these many examples of Inari as
a deity related to love and sex, and so there is no doubt this identity needed to be bridged by
those other sources and could not be fully rejected without danger of alienating potential
devotees.
The description of practices in the Shinsarugakuki places the wife of Uemon no jō’s
involvement in the Aihō of Inari in parallel to her participation in something called the Dansai 男
祭, or Man Festival. Simultaneously, the account also tied the gods, Akomachi of Mount Inari

481
See page 125.
482
See page 102.
483
This double association is possible based on the multiple means of the Chinese character of hō,
which can mean both “Dharma” and “ritual.”
226

and Igatome of Kitsunezaka, of these rites together too, which indicates that they might have
been a particular constellation of deities in some popular imaginations. The rituals may have
been carried out at more sites than those listed in the Shinsarugakuki. A somewhat later story
from the late thirteenth century Shasekishū tells of Izumi Shikibu participating in a “Gyōai no
matsuri 敬愛のまつり” at the Kibune shrine.
484
She joined that festival in the hopes of restoring
the love and affection of her husband. There the rituals were led by a medium (巫 kannagi) that
utilized a wand with red streamers, walked in circles, and beat both a drum and her front.
According to Ōwa Iwao, the Dansai was a festival of rites intended to attract the love of a
male.
485
With the Akomachi and the Inari shrine’s Aihō being put alongside this Dansai in the
Shinsarugakuki in the wife of Uemon no jō’s efforts, it should be assumed that they promised
similar rewards to those who participated. It has also been suggested that Aihō was an
abbreviation of Aigyōhō 愛敬法, which would refer to rituals to promote love and respect
between a couple.
486
This of course would also make the name of the rituals at Inari very close to
the matsuri at Kibune. If so, that may indicate that the practices at Mount Inari were primarily for
the benefit of those already romantically involved and needed to repair their relationships. The
reprimanding of Shigekata in the Konjaku monogatarishū would be even more appropriate in
that context. Ōwa has done substantial work to show that the abalone shell and the dried tuna in
these two sets of festivals were understood to represent the genitals of men and women

484
Shasekishū, Nihon Koten Bungaku Zenshū, 592-593. See also Pandey, Rajyashree,
“Performing the Body in Medieval Japanese Narratives: Izumi Shikibu in Shasekishū” Japan forum
(Oxford, England) 19, no. 1 (2007): 111–130.
485
Ōwa, “Akomachi Ono no komachi to dakini: Inari shinkō no ichi sokumen,” 49-51.
486
Cf. Ōwa, 49.
227

respectively, and so we know that the sexual implications of these rites were intentional.
487

Combined with the supposition that both tōme and akomachi were terms derived from names for
mediums, it is possible that the Shinsarugakuki refers to kannagi as well as deities at Inari and
Kitsunezaka. The Shasekishū only states that the kannagi at Kibune would strike or massage
their “front (前 mae),” but this may be a euphemistic reference to their genitals as well. We can
variously interpret these rituals to have been intended to attract proper mates for marriage or
fecundity or just a romance of some sort. Likely, those who joined the festivals wanted some
combination of the above benefits in their love life. Inari’s dominion of love could in that way be
called upon for pilgrims in a variety of situations.
Another story from the Konjaku monogatarishū records an account concerning a woman
who came to visit Inari because of the kami’s reputation for helping in childbirth, and the
narrative confirmed the deity’s efficacy in a roundabout way. This story from the thirtieth scroll
of the Konjaku monogatarishū stated that sometime long ago there was a governor whose
primary wife had a daughter.
488
Nearly at the same time, a second wife that he had in secret also
gave birth to a girl. This second wife unfortunately died a short while later. After some
consideration the governor told his main wife and, with only some resentment, she agreed to
raise the second girl as well. However, the nursemaid of the first daughter was unhappy with the
situation and conspired to have the second daughter sent away. The girl was eventually taken in
by a wealthy family in Yamato Province who had wanted a child of their own. The original
father was upset at the loss of his daughter, but she could not be found. Some years later, his first
daughter died from a sudden illness and he was thrown into grief. In the meantime, his second

487
Ōwa, 50-51.
488
This is Konjaku scroll 30, story 6. Paraphrase based on Shin Nihon koten bungaku taikei, 411-
415.
228

daughter, who had grown up well and healthy, decided to make a pilgrimage to Inari on the First
Horse Day of the Second Month because “the Fushimi Inari Shrine is known as a guardian deity
of childbirth.” By coincidence, her father, thinking it would make him feel better, also journeyed
to Inari on that day. The two miraculously met on the road and the father was irresistibly drawn
to the girl and quickly determined that she was in fact his daughter. Setting this meeting at the
Inari shrine reveals that Inari might protect a child and deliver it safely to their parents long after
birth. The way the father was mysteriously moved by the girl’s presence also indicates that Inari
can assure the love between a parent and child, as much as affection between lovers. In
conjunction with this, there were other authors who wrote that they prayed to Inari for assistance
in sending themselves or their daughters into palace service and close proximity to the emperor
with hopes that they might catch his eye. This was for instance the case for Fujiwara Yorinaga 藤
原頼⻑, the author of the Taiki 台記, who in the seventh month of 1148 traveled to Inari and
then the Kasuga shrine as part of a ritual program to ensure that his daughter Tashi 多子 would
successfully enter palace service.
489
It was apparently his first time journeying to the Inari
shrines.
Unfortunately, we have no records to specify the full range of reasons for people to
pilgrimage to Inari, but based on the depicted atmosphere in Shigekata’s story and the
connections with Dansai and Aihō in the Shinsarugakuki story, it is indisputable that Inari’s
association with love was prevalent in the Heian period and into the medieval period. On the
other hand, Taira no Kiyomori’s visit to Inari likely was predicated on his understanding that the

489
Taiki, scroll 8, 248. Cf. Fukutō Sanae, “Heian jidai no Inari mōde to josei,” Ake 39 (1996): 66-
67. Fujiwara Tashi (1140-1201) does become the empress of Konoe tennō 近衛天皇.
229

kami would help him in the coming battles with the Minamoto. In any case, pilgrimages to
Inariyama on the First Horse Day of the Second month remained popular into the Edo period
(Figure 13) and the modern period.

The Inarisai 稲荷祭
The Hatsuuma pilgrimages are the most common Inari matsuri activities described by
and participated in by aristocratic authors throughout the medieval period. In fact, Nakamura
Figure 13. Edo period representation of the busy entrance to the Inari Shrine on the occasion of a Hatsuuma
Festival. “Miyako rinsen meishō zue 都林泉名勝図絵,” scroll 3, 1799. Held by Kokusai Nihon bunka
kenkyū sentā 国際⽇本⽂化研究センター digital archive.
https://www.nichibun.ac.jp/meisyozue/rinsen/page7/km_03_03_036f.html
230

Shūya has argued that such pilgrimages were necessary in part because aristocrats needed to
travel to Mount Inari during the second month festival if they wanted to venerate the kami
publicly because the ritual calendar was so full that they would not be able to easily join the Inari
Festival (稲荷祭 Inarisai) that happened to be in close temporal proximity to events such as the
Gion Festival or the Aoi Festival.
490
If that is so, then it would indicate that the Inari Festival was
not as important politically as these other events. However, the diaries of Heian aristocrats do
leave occasional reference to what was surely the largest annual event at the Inari shrine from the
perspective of the city of Kyoto as a whole.
The Inari Festival is the spring festival of the Fushimi Inari Great Shrine.
491
According to
the reckoning of the old calendar, the formal matsuri’s rites began on the middle Horse Day of
the third month, when the Rituals of the Kami’s Blessing (神幸祭 Shinkōsai) are performed to
take the portable shrines, or divine palanquins (神輿 mikoshi), to their rest house (御旅所
otabisho). This is a relatively common practice across Japan and is largely considered to
facilitate a mountain god’s descent from the mountain into the fields to support the harvest.
492

For Inari, there are five of these palanquins, one for the each of the main Upper, Middle, Lower,

490
Nakamura Shūya, “Heian Kizoku to Inarisai,” Ake (1996): 60-63. The Aoi Festival, or Kamo
Festival, would traditionally occur in the middle of the fourth month. The Gion Festival, or Gion Goryō-e,
would classically take place in the sixth month. Today the Inari Festival is referred to as the Inari sai in
Japanese. However, Ōmori Keiko has suggested that prior to the events of the Meiji Period and the forced
separation of Kami and Buddhist rites, that the festival should be called the Inari matsuri. Dictionaries are
in disagreement over its current conventional title. To avoid confusion, I will refer to the festival
throughout as the “Inarisai” or the “Inari Festival.” Cf. Ōmori Keiko, Inari shinkō no sekai: Inarisai to
shinbutsu shūgō (Tokyo: Keiyusha, 2012), 134.
491
Much of the following information is fundamental to the phenomena of the Inarisai and
without specific citation. Helpful entries on the matsuri can be found in the Kokushi daijiten, Nihon
Kokugo daijiten, Kadokawa kogo daijiten, the Fushimi Inari Taisha website, and the Inari shinkō jiten,
260-263. I consulted all of these in the process of writing these sections. The first three of these
dictionaries were accessed via JapanKnowledge.
492
Yanagita, 94-95.
231

Tanaka, and Shi no Ōkami shrines of Inari. Then on the first Rabbit Day (卯⽇ u no hi) of the
fourth month, or the second Rabbit Day when there were three in the month, the festival was
completed with the Rituals of the Return Blessing (還幸祭 Kankōsai) and the return of the
mikoshi to the Great Shrine. According to the new calendar, the Shinkōsai is performed on the
last Sunday of the fourth month and the Kankōsai is carried out on the third day of the fifth
month. Often, the Kankōsai alone is referred to as the Inari Festival, which is likely a reflection
of how this ritual day is traditionally the most busy and vibrant day of the matsuri.

Preparing the otabisho and Preparing the City
However, the Inari Festival required multiple days of preparation. Historically, the build
up to the festival would begin on the first Serpent Day (⺒⽇ mi no hi) of the month. On this day,
the priests of the shrine would prepare the rest house for the impending arrival of the Inari kami.
A rest house serves as a temporary lodging for the portable shrines when they are used to carry
Tōji
otabisho
East Markets Space
Figure 14. Close up of map from 11
th

century copy of the Engishiki, 42
nd
scroll.
Image from Tokyo National Museum 東
京国立博物館 digital collection.
https://webarchives.tnm.jp/imgsearch/sho
w/E0016387.
N
232

the kami from the regular shrine during the period of a festival.
493
Inari’s otabisho has always
been located in Kyoto city proper. Previously, the otabisho was located at the corner of Shio
Street 塩小路 and Abura Street 油小路. The existence of this rest house is attested from quite
early on and is an indicator of the Inari Festival beginnings. The otabisho was marked on an
eleventh century copy of the 42nd scroll of the Engishiki, so its existence can be confirmed from
that date.
494
Late medieval shrine records report that the festival began in the middle of the Jōgan
era (貞観 859-876).
495
However, written references to the Inarisai do not begin until the early
eleventh century.
Incidentally, the otabisho was also mentioned at the very beginning of the Inariki that
was examined in Chapter Two.
496
There the presence of the rest house appears to be a point of
some dispute, and so it is possible that in the fourteenth century there was a controversy
concerning its placement or existence. The location at the meeting of Shio (“Salt”) and Abura
(“Oil”) Streets put the rest house right at the border of the East Markets Space (東市 higashi no
ichi) in the capital.
497
The otabisho’s placement there created a tangible and concrete connection
between the Inari shrine and merchant people that frequented the area. This connection would
have reinforced its popularity with that social group in the city. It certainly represents a physical

493
Many other shrines have their own otabisho.
494
Figure 14. The included map is held by the Tokyo National Museum. There was also for a time
a second otabisho at the intersection of Inokuma and Umenomiya Streets mentioned in some Muromachi
period documents held by Tōji, but the exact reason for its establishment and the duration of its use is
uncertain. Cf. Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 108.
495
Cf. Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 100-102.
496
Indeed, some scholars have suggested that the Inariki was composed in part to legitimize the
placement of the otabisho and the shrine’s ownership of that building.
497
This is one of the districts in the old capital marked off especially for mercantile business. The
West Markets Space in the other half of the city was historically substantially less busy than the East
Markets Space.
233

projection of the Inari shrine’s domain right into the heart of the capital. Which is to say, this was
a way for a shrine that existed outside of the border of the city to also exist within the capital
itself. This, more than anything that follows in this chapter, may be the clearest evidence that the
Inari shrine and deity held a prominent place in the popular religious landscape and cityscape.
The temporary shrine’s presence there and the procession of the mikoshi could in no way be
ignored by the denizens of the center of Kyoto. Today, while still near the middle of the city, the
Figure 15. Mapped route of Inari Festival Shinkō and Kankō procession routes. Map roughly overlays
traditional route of the matsuri over the modern map of Kyoto. Map created by author using Google My Maps.
234

rest house has been relocated and can be found at the corner of Abura street and Tōji Road 東寺
道, a short walk to the southwest from Kyoto Station.
Currently, the preparation of the otabisho includes an offering of food stuffs such as
kombu kelp, dried and fermented tuna, carrot, cucumber, eggplant, spinach, satsuma, sweet
potato, apples, and rapeseed flowers, along with accompanying prayers by the shrine priests.
498

Additionally, the priests would set branches from the sakaki 榊 evergreen cleyera on the grounds
of the shrine as well as in neighborhoods west towards the Rashōmon Gate, northwest towards
the intersection of Senbodōri and Shichijō roads, north towards the intersection of Ōmiya and
Matsubara roads, northeast towards the intersection of Teramachi and Matsubara roads, and
finally east towards city block 7 of the Honmachi area. Today, these might be affixed to the
poles for power lines or similar structures, but previously would be struck into the ground. They
are likewise secured to the torii gates of the temporary rest house shrine. These branches are put
out to prepare a new space for the Inari deity to dwell. They are called imizashi 忌刺, literally
“taboo piercing,” as their presence is understood to purify the surrounding area. The residents of
the neighborhoods in which these cleyera branches are erected constitute the ujiko 氏子, or the
parishioners, of the Fushimi Inari shrine. Later, I will turn to a discussion of these parishioners,
but suffice it to say that the areas in which these imizashi are planted demonstrate that a large
swath of Kyoto must be prepared for the Inari kami’s descent. The cityscape of Kyoto is
thoroughly reforged to accommodate the deity and its matsuri.

498
Cf. Ōmori, 138-139. Note that these are the offerings made today, some of which would not
have been possible in the medieval period. It is not clear what exactly was offered in the Heian,
Kamakura, or Muromachi periods, but it surely would have changed some over time.
235

The Shinkōsai and Kankōsai Processions
With the rest house and city prepared, the Shinkōsai can be performed the next day. The
portable shrines are brought out on the Fushimi Market Street (now known as the Nara Kaidō)
and travel northward. Previously, these were carried by hand. Here was once the sacrifice of
work and sweat that Tămaş described. Since the middle of the twentieth century, the portable
shrines have been transported on the back of trucks. Once on Shichijō Street, they travel
westward into the city until reaching Samegai Street, then the mikoshi turn south and travel until
they reach the otabisho. On the way back during the Kankōsai, the mikoshi leave the rest house
and travel west on Tōji Street before using the Ōmiya Street to travel south to Kujō Street. From
that intersection, they turn west again before coming to the South Grand Gate of Tōji. At that
point, the mikoshi are brought inside the grounds of Tōji and up to the front of the Hachiman
sub-shrine on its grounds. Then the Tōji priests perform an offering ritual to the kami in the
palanquins. Afterwards, the portable shrines are taken back through the South Grand Gate and
east along Kujō Street. At the intersection with Ōmiya Street, the mikoshi then again travel back
north until Matsubara Street. On Matsubara they travel east to Teramachi Street. At that
intersection, the procession turns south and moves on until Gojō Street. From there, the mikoshi
go east up to the Fushimi Market Street, where they travel south again before finally reentering
the Great Shrine through the main gate. This was the path during the premodern era (Figure 15).
The current route is similar.
As noted above, during the Kankōsai, the Inari mikoshi enter the grounds of Tōji and
receive an offering before the Hachiman sub-shrine. This continues today, even after the Meiji
government's forced separation of Buddhism and Shinto when the Fushimi Inari shrine was
designated as an official kanpei 官幣 shrine. Because of the close ties between Inari and Tōji
236

from early in
the Heian
period, it is
likely this rite
was a part of the
matsuri from
the very
beginning.
Recall that in
Chapter Two it
was
demonstrated
that a plethora of texts repeat stories of how the Inari deity first came to Tōji before taking
residence on Inariyama.
499
In fact, the otabisho is situated quite close to the temple of Tōji in the
eleventh century copy of the Engishiki (Figure 14). Although, the textual versions of the Inari
and Kūkai meeting are from the fourteenth century or later. There is no way to know whether
earlier versions of the fabled meeting were spread, but the fact that the existence of the otabisho
can be attested by the eleventh century and its close to proximity to Tōji even then suggests that
the stop was already a part of mikoshi procession. The written tales may be a continuation of an
oral tradition, a development out of already extent ritual practices, or perhaps an explanation of
those practices. In any case, the prevalence of the story in the medieval period and prominence of
the matsuri in the fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries would assure that they worked together

499
See Chapter Two.
Figure 16. Edo period representation of ritual offering service for Inari mikoshi at Tōji.
“Shūi miyako meisho zue 拾遺都名所図会,” scroll 1, 1787. Held by Kokusai Nihon
bunka kenkyū sentā 国際⽇本⽂化研究センター digital archive.
https://www.nichibun.ac.jp/meisyozue/kyotosyui/page7/km_01_176f.html.
237

and mutually reinforced each other in the imagination of Kyotoites. Just as certainly, the location
would mean that the rest house was near the temple’s sphere of everyday social and political
influence. The temporary shrine being constructed there should be understood as both an
acknowledgement of the Inari shrine’s link to Tōji and an acknowledgement of the temple’s
support.

Views of the Festival
We have very few premodern period records of people directly participating in the Inari
Festival. The twelfth century Minister of the Left Fujiwara Yorinaga provides an exception. In
his personal diary the Taiki, also known as the Kaiki 槐記, he described making offerings during
the Inarisai three times. First in Kyūan 久安 6 (1150), when he wrote that he made a ritual wand
offering to the Inari kami on the ninth day of the fourth month in conjunction with the festival.
500

Then on the same day in Ninpei 仁平 4 (1154, also Kyūju 久寿 1), he presented a divine horse to
the shrine.
501
Yorinaga stated that on this day he actually broke a ritual taboo divination that had
instructed him not to go. In his entry he complained that he had been prevented from entering the
matsuri by kegare restrictions since the first year of Ninpei and had run out of patience. The next
year he again presented a ritual wand during the festival.
502
He died the following year before the
next Inarisai. All of these acts were in appreciation to the Inari kami for helping his daughter
Tashi become an empress. For the first visit in Kyūan 6, Yorinaga was acting as the head of an
imperial procession. It is clear that this sort of procession was such an unusual occurrence for the

500
Taiki, scroll 9, Zōho shiryō taisei 24 (Kyoto: Rinsen shoten 1965), 20.
501
Taiki, scroll 11, 118.
502
Taiki, scroll 12, 154.
238

Inari Festival that the imperial party did not have precedent on which to structure their actions at
the mountain. So Yorinaga made it up as he went along. Besides the wand offering, they also
read unspecified sutras. It has been supposed that the Inari Festival was once a form of a goryōe
御霊会, a ceremony to appease the spirits of the dead and malevolent deities with rites of heavy
Buddhist accents. In fact, the early twelfth century Chūyūki 中右記 refers to the festival as the
“Inari goryōe 稲荷御霊会” in one case.
503
The sutra reading by Yorinaga may be indicative of
that further function of the matsuri. He and his retinue visited all five shrines on the mountain
during the day. During the 1154 visit, the festival had been delayed and their plans were altered.
Yorinaga and his entourage instead stopped at the otabisho to make their offerings but sent the
divine horse to the Lower Shrine with an envoy. A minor official was also sent to the Upper
Shrine to make a ritual wand offering. Yet, as stated in Chapter One, Yorinaga’s fervent
veneration of Inari was unusual in comparison to most aristocrats and is not representative of
other records that remain.
We do, on the other hand, have several authors who describe watching the Inari Festival
from a distance. These authors, rather than dwelling on the religious and political rituals that
Yorinaga described, focused on the matsuri as an exciting social event. Fujiwara Sanesuke 藤原
実資 (957-1046) noted the activity of the festival goers in his Shōyūki 小右記 and even stated
that a fight of some sort broke out among participants in the festival in 1006.
504
Similarly,

503
Cf. Gorai, 79, and Goza Yūichi, “Jūgo seiki no Fushimi Inarisha ni kansuru zakkō: Manseijugō
nikki Kanmon nikki wo chūshin ni,” Ake 62 (2019): 22.
504
Original text quoted in Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 102.
239

Fujiwara Sukefusa 藤原資房 (1007-1057) described in his Shunki 春記 that he watched the
matsuri from a distance while visiting the home of an acquaintance in 1040.
505
Sukefusa did not
provide much description, but he did call the whole festival “overly extravagant.”
506
The most
detailed description of the Inari Festival was provided by Fujiwara Akihira in his 藤原明衡 (989-
1066) Meigō ōrai 明衡往来. This work is also known as the Unshū shōsoku 雲州消息 and it was
composed to provide examples so as to teach others the art of letter-writing. Akihira’s example
letter for the fourth month indicates just how lively and boisterous a festival the Inarisai might
once have been. He described with obvious excitement the nature of the Inarisai:
Last year, as I was invited by a certain individual, I discreetly went to see [the Inari Festival]. It
was truly an interesting thing. While the mikoshi were being carried back [to the shrine], I
recognized with sincerity that this was the rite of a divine kami. Truly something to revere! I do
not know how many tens of thousands of common people there were making offerings. For the
sake of fulfilling each of their wishes, they displayed all kinds of crafts without concern for order:
the transverse flute of Naitō, the biwa of Zen monks, the puppets of Kuro Nagamaru, the
Sarugaku of Shirafuji. In the midst of these activities, the crowds could not be counted. That year
[like this year,] the neighborhoods also had a similar number [of people]. Male and female, they
jostled forwards and backwards, like beasts, demanding their own place. There were some who
fought like tigers. Others slunk around like rats. It was a scene of the strong versus the weak.
Also, the followers of the Chief Riders were wild in appearance. Their clothing was made of
beautiful cloth likely from China. The riders were gallant atop fine horses. The things I saw
beyond this were many and varied. How could I count them one by one? Amidst my voyeurism,
the best thing was the people watching itself.
507

First, note the perspective of Akihira’s comments. He enjoyed observing the people participating
in the festival. He also seemed to bear a true appreciation for the matsuri as rituals appropriate
for the worship of a divinity. Akihira apparently felt that this sort of fervor was only suitable in
the worship of a kami like Inari. Yet, it would be difficult to assess that he had a positive view of

505
See entry for Chōkyū 1, fourth month, day 19. Akagi Shizuko, eds., Kundoku Shunki (Tōkyō:
Parutosu Shuppan, 1999), 160-161.
506
惣じて過差云うべからず.
507
Translation based on Meigō ōrai in 38th scroll of Gunsho ruiju, 395.
240

the people themselves. He primarily characterized them as being like animals, wild and without
restraint. Scholars have been quick to note the apparently lively nature of the Inarisai, with a
general assumption that the Inari Festival provided a rare opportunity for people from various
social statuses to interact freely.
508
There is not enough specific commentary to be certain
whether this sort of social mixing was actually a rarity in city life, but there is a marked
assumption that matsuri allowed for crossing class barriers. However, excepting the participation
of Fujiwara Yorinaga, most of these accounts that describe the lively nature of people at the
festival were written by aristocratic authors who held to the perspective of observers. Akihira,
Sukefusa, and Sanesuke all write of people engaged in the matsuri without specifying that they
went in to join the festivities themselves. The Izumi Shikibu zokushū recorded that Izumi Shikibu
once attended the Inarisai, but the account stated that she remained within the confines of her
carriage.
509
If others like Izumi went to the matsuri while staying in their curtained carriages, it
would have provided a convenient way for many nobles to observe the festival goers without
getting caught up in the chaos described by Akihira. All this together may indicate that the elite
of Kyoto preferred to watch the crowds of the Inari Festival from a distance.
Still, Yorinaga’s description provides good evidence of how busy and exciting the
Inarisai might have been. Even if his claim of tens of thousands was an exaggeration, it seems
likely all of the people around the Eastern Markets Space turned out for the festivities. It seems
too that in the middle of this, many people were displaying different artistic skills (puppetry,
music, theatre, and dance), either for the veneration of Inari or to provide entertainment for those
around them. The procession of the mikoshi was led by impressive Chief Riders who could
afford to bring together fierce retinues. At the very least, it is likely that a large variety of people

508
See for instance Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 102-103.
509
See text in ZGR 16, 455.
241

from merchant, working, and minor official backgrounds were in the crowds that Yorinaga
observed. The Inari Festival was in this way a production of both the shrine and the city.

Visual Depictions of the Inari Festival
Fortunately, some visual depictions of the Inari Festival as it was performed during the
premodern period have been preserved. In particular, the eleventh and twelfth picture scrolls of
the “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻” are illustrations of the Inari Festival. The “Nenjū gyōji
emaki” was created by the request of Retired Emperor Go Shirakawa in the late twelfth century,
who wanted artwork that showed the most exciting rituals of the court calendar (年中行事 Nenjū
gyōji).
510
The originals of the
scrolls were lost in a fire at the
imperial palace during the Edo
period, but in 1661 copies had
been made by Sumiyoshi Jokei
住吉如慶 that are considered
faithful to the originals.
511

Copies of other scrolls were

510
For a general overview of the court’s ritual calendar, see Francine Hérail and Wendy Cobcroft,
Emperor and Aristocracy in Heian Japan: 10th and 11th Centuries (California, United States: 2013), 46-
58.
511
Kokushi daijiten, Nihon kokugo daijiten, Nihon daihyakka zensho. The original was said to
have been 60 scrolls in total. Jokei’s copy condensed approximately 25 scrolls down into 16 scrolls.
Figure 17. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,” scroll 12, 17
th
century. As published in Tanaka
Yūbi, 1920. Accessed from Japanese National Diet Library digital collection.
https://dl.ndl.go.jp/info:ndljp/pid/966652/10?tocOpened=1. This is the head of the procession in the scroll.
Moving down and over to the following pages is going backwards towards the tail of the procession.
242

made in the intervening years as well. The
Fushimi Inari Shrine privately holds a
picture scroll called the “Inarisai emaki 稲
荷祭絵巻” that appears to be an early
Muromachi period copy of scroll twelve.
512

The decision to copy the scroll by the Inari
shrine then may indicate a desire to
preserve the imagined traditions of the
festival and that the then current festival
was sufficiently similar enough for the
images to be useful. Below I will analyze
some key features of these images.
The picture scrolls do indeed
suggest the lively, crowded affairs
described in the above sources. They also
give fine depictions of how the procession
accompanying the mikoshi would have
formed. The parade of the festival was led by horsemen known as mechō (⾺⻑ also read bachō
and umaosa). These are the same “Chief Riders” to which Akihira referred in the Meigō ōrai. In

512
See Ōmori, 145-149. The “Inarisai emaki” is not readily available for the public to see,
however Ōmori does include in her monographs photographs that were taken at a special showing in
1996. Unfortunately, I am unable to reproduce high quality images of these and so have included the
Tanaka Yūbi, eds. Nenjū gyōji emaki kō, 1920 versions instead.
Figure 18. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵
巻,” scroll 12, 17
th
century copy.
Figure 19. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵
巻,” scroll 12, 17
th
century copy.
243

the supplied images, the riders in
Figures 17 and 18 probably include
mechō. Figure 21 is specifically a
close up of a mechō from the eleventh
scroll of the “Nenjū gyōji emaki.”
These horsemen were supplied by the
kurōdodoko 蔵⼈所, the extrastuatory
office of chamberlains.
513
In the
Shunki, Sukefusa stated that he
supplied two of these Chief Riders and two horses for the festival in 1040. The riders were
children of noble families. This is significant because it indicates that the Inari shrine must have
organized the mikoshi procession at least in part with support and favor from the central
government. Additionally, the head of the kurōdo was usually a member of the Fujiwara family
and so, despite the social distancing
preferred by Fujiwara family members
in the above sources, it is clear that the
family maintained the close patronage
described in works like the Tenryaku
Kanmon and the Inariki in Chapter
Two and as suggested in the
developments related to
the enthronement rites of

513
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 129.
Figure 20. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,”
scroll 12, 17
th
century copy.
Figure 21. “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,” scroll 11, 17
th
century copy.
Photo reproduced from Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi,
129.
244

the previous chapter. Indeed, in the Heian period it was the responsibility of the mechō to gather
part of the funds necessary for the celebrations.
514
They did this by providing their own money
and soliciting funds from parishioners of the Inari shrine in the southeast of the capital. The
Fujiwara must have been simultaneously and intentionally promoting Inari in both the elite
circles of accession rituals and the broader public sphere allowed by matsuri. It is easy to
imagine that such a pair of discourses was self-reinforcing with the apparent popularity of each
substantiating the prestige of the other.
Besides the Chief Riders, there are other figures on horses in these scrolls. In Figures 17
and 18 there are at least three women riding horses and carrying stylish umbrellas. There are a
further two women on horseback and wearing wide-brimmed hats with veils in Figure 18. It may
be that these are mediums or priestesses from the shrine, such as those who might have been
called upon in the Aihō rituals described above. Additionally, Figure 19 provides a clear view of
multiple musicians riding with flutes and drums. They are further supported by more musicians
in the crowd around them (Figures 19 and 20 especially). Here, right at the front, is some of the
music ensemble and entertainment offering described in the Meigō ōrai. Later in the procession,
such as in Figures 23, 24, and 26, there are more riders. These appear in close proximity to the
divine palanquins and are most likely shrine priests.

514
Sakawa Yukiko, “Muromachi jidai ni okeru Inarisairei Tōji chūmon osonae no henge nituite:
Tōji shikkō kōjin wo chūshin ni,” Ake 62 (2019): 199-210.
245

Figure 22 is a depiction of the retinue of the Chief Riders. In these we see individuals
carrying bows and other such weapons. They are warriors and perhaps that is why they seemed
wild from Akihira’s perspective. Then again, in Figure 18 there is a veritable morass of figures
right behind the mechō of this scroll, and it would be hard to not equate that disorder with
wildness. Then, mixed among these warriors and musicians in Figures 19 and 20 are performers
wearing lion puppet costumes. Behind those are additional followers bearing sakaki branches
and streamers to prepare the way for the parading kami. In other words, it is not just the crowds,
but the procession itself is composed of many social groups and requires their cooperation.
Also, there is a substantial crowd in the background of these pictures. The artists have
been careful to draw people from all of the social strata, starting with aristocrats in ox-drawn
carts in Figure 17 to warriors in Figure 18 to regular city dwellers peeking out from windows in
Figures 24 and 25. Monks and nuns are placed sporadically throughout as well. In Figure 20
there may even be children with slings and rocks to play pranks in the midst of the rituals. The
images appear intended to demonstrate both the variety of performances in the spectacle of the
Inari Festival and the great variety of Kyotoites who came to witness.
Figure 22. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,” scroll 11, 17
th
century copy. Photo reproduced from
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 130.
246

The mikoshi come into
view starting with Figure 23.
These, carried with surprising
ease in the pictures, number five,
so all of the temporary shrines are
depicted here. Four out of the five
have the same design. The middle
mikoshi is especially elaborate
and must be what was considered
the primary shrine at the time. At
different times during the Heian
period, the Middle and Lower
Shrines were each given
preference, but by the Kamakura
period the Lower Shrine, based
on ease of access, was the lead
shrine of Inari. A close
examination of the first shrine in
the procession will reveal that
there is a small image of a
creature on the bottom edge of each side of the mikoshi (Figure 23). This is a fox. It is the only
reference to the animal of Inari, but it is prominently placed and sure to be noticed by the
crowds.
Figure 24. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,” scroll
12, 17
th
century copy.
Figure 23. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,” scroll
12, 17
th
century copy.
247

It is noteworthy that
both the members of the
procession and the crowd are
varied. At least in the
understanding of the artist of
the “Nenjū gyōji emaki,” the
matsuri did effectively bring
together people from many
social strata to venerate and
celebrate Inari. To put on
such a display required both substantial funds and coordination. These images alone can only be
said to provide with certainty an idea of what was common in the Heian period.
The matsuri apparently became even more extravagant in the Kamakura and Muromachi
periods. Even though they do not appear in the surviving picture scrolls, thanks to records from
Tōji, we know that the Inari Festival included the carrying and display of ornate long-handle
Chinese spears (鉾 hoku or hoko) from at least the early fourteenth century.
515
The first reference

515
This is another practice prevalent in matsuri processions.
Figure 25. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,” scroll 12, 17
th

century copy.
248

to these can be found in the Tōji
monjo 東寺⽂書 in an entry for
1340 (Jōwa 貞和 3) that simply
stated there were many such
spears.
516
While the early
documents do not specify this, it
is likely that these spears were
placed around the edges of
floats upon which dances and
other performances occurred.
517
Later documents make this clear. The Tōji shigyō nikki 東寺執
行⽇記 reported that in 1441 (Kakitsu 嘉吉 1) there were thirty-six hoku split between ten floats
(⼭鉾 yamaboko).
518
Then in the following year there were suddenly fifty floats. These were the
numbers for floats during the Kankōsai portion of the festival when the portable shrine would
stop at Tōji and then head back to the Fushimi Inari shrine. During the original excursion to the
otabisho, there would be substantially fewer floats. The number of floats may be attributed to

516
A copy of parts of the Tōji monjo was accessible thanks to the records of the Kyoto City
Historical Museum (京都市歴史資料館 Kyōtoshi Rekishi Shiryōkan).
517
Cf. Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 158-159.
518
A copy of parts of the Tōji shigyō nikki was accessible thanks to the records of the Kyoto City
Historical Museum.
Figure 26. Close up of “Nenjū gyōji emaki 年中行事絵巻,” scroll 12,
17
th
century copy.
249

however much financial support the matsuri organizers could find for the year. In 1442, it cost
five kanmon to renovate each float for the procession.
519

The continued success of the Inari Festival relied upon the financial support of the people
living within the Inari shrine’s parishioner territory and the political support of the aristocratic
families like the Fujiwara. Looking at these images and considering the resources being
expended in the accompanying documents, all the area centered around the East Markets and
Shio and Abura Streets was apparently thriving, and the spectacle of the Inari Festival displayed
it.

The City of Kyoto and Funding the Inari Festival
It certainly is not known how much money and resources were spent on any given Inari
Festival, but there are some hints. According to the Tōji shiyōshū, during the festival of 1286
(Kōan 弘安 9), one hundred kanmon were expended for the offerings at the temple of Tōji.
520

While some inflation in general prices could certainly have been expected, the Tōji shigyō nikki
stated that in the year 1408 (Ōei 応永 15) five hundred kanmon was spent building anew the
mikoshi for each shrine. Over time, the lavishness of the matsuri was censured by the
government. In 1231 for instance, Emperor Go-Horikawa issued an edict that stated the
extravagance of the Inari Festival, the Hie Festival, and the Gion goryō needed to come to an

519
A kanmon 貫⽂ is the basic unit of currency at this time, although many day-to-day
transactions actually took place using the mon ⽂, or 1/1000 of a kanmon. Unfortunately, following the
burning of the shrine in the Ōnin Ran, even when the matsuri was revived in 1476, the usage of floats was
discontinued.
520
Tōji shiyōshū is one of several collections of private records held by the temple of Tōji. Source
quoted in Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 135.
250

end.
521
Go-Horikawa stated that these festivals were too much of a burden on the people of the
city. That edict did not have much effect in the long term and went largely ignored.
The Inari shrine was able to claim a large portion of the city as its parishioners’ territory
and obtained funding directly from that territory. This covered roughly the same space as
outlined by the path that the mikoshi followed during the Shinkō and Kankō processions during
the festival (refer back to Figure 6). The shrine’s domain was able to increase over time as well.
In 1229 (Antei 安貞 3), according to the Meigetsuki 明月記, the shrine was only acquiring funds
from up to the southern edge of Rokujō Street.
522
By the 1286 Tōji shiyōshū account from above,
Inari’s parishioners extended up to Gojō Street. At its height, in the middle of the city, the
northern border of the parishioners’ territory was the southern edge of Matsubara Road 松原通
and the southern border was the Kujōmachi neighborhood 九条町. The western border was the
Shimabara 島原町 and Chūdōji 中堂寺町 neighborhoods. East of the Kamo River, the northern
border was the southern edge of Miyagawasuji go chōme 宮川筋五丁目. The eastern border was
Daibutsu kyōnai yugyō maechō neighborhood ⼤仏境内遊行前町. The Southeastern border was
the Daibutsu kyōnai Ishidōchō bridge ⼤仏境内石塔橋 and the southern border was the southern
edge of Honmachi nana chōme 本町七丁目. The border of Matsubara Road took the parishioner
territory right to the edge of what was once the territory of the Gion Shrine, and these two

521
Kamakura ibun 鎌倉遺⽂, no. 4240.
522
See entry for fourteenth day, third month of Antei 3. Text quoted in Fushimi Inari Taisha
Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 134.
251

shrines effectively split the most prosperous part of the city between them.
523
With this in mind,
it is no wonder that the Inari shrine's festivities once rivaled that of the now more famous Gion
Matsuri. At the same time that the shrine’s territory was expanding, the primary sources of its
funds were as well. Whereas the mechō were directly responsible for the expenses of offerings in
the early Heian period, by the 1400s the wealthy merchants and low-ranking nobles from the city
were also assisting.
524
Tōji itself also supplied help, demonstrating that the temple likewise
wanted the festival to be a successful event.
The significance of this extensive parishioner support can be seen in the conflicts that
were created in relation to the Inari shrine’s territory within the city. According to documents
from 1312 to 1314, Inari and the temple of Tōdaiji entered a dispute over which institution
should be able to draw support from parishioners in the area around Gojō Street.
525
Both sides
sent letters and suites to the imperial and shogunal courts. In general, the courts sided with Inari
in this dispute, however Tōdaiji had sufficient authority to largely ignore the courts’ ruling and
continued to pressure Inari to relinquish its hold on parishioners north of Rokujō Street. In 1312
(Shōwa 正和 1), Tōdaiji went so far as to forcefully seal the gates of Inari’s otabisho and prevent
the festival. The emperor ordered the gates to be opened.
While the courts never specified their reason for siding with Inari over Tōdaiji in this
dispute, considering the popularity attributed to the matsuri already in the early Heian period
diaries and in conjunction with the shrine’s expanded territory, it is probable that the festival had
simply grown too big, and the courts were unwilling to risk the ire of city people. The censure

523
Inari shinkō jiten, 260.
524
Cf. Sakawa, 202-207, and Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 134-135 + 159-
161.
525
Cf. Kojima Shōsaku, “Kyōto go jo inan no Inarisairei shikichieki to Tōdaiji: Sairei shikichieki
ni jūtsū no Tōdaiji monjo wo chūshin toshite,” Ake 16 (1974): 16-34.
252

for Go-Horikawa stated that people were spending too much on the festival such that it was
overly extravagant. There was no indication in his statement that people were unhappy to do so.
Indeed, the available evidence indicates the opposite was usually the case. The Inari Festival had
taken firm root in the yearly calendar and imagination of the city. They expected the
entertainment of the festival and embraced it, allowing the Inari shrine’s reach into the city
landscape to solidify. Indeed, while the main shrine was not restored until 1499, the festival was
revived in 1476 following the Ōnin Ran.
526
The city was swifter to restore the rituals of the Inari
Festival than the shrine itself.

526
Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 160. See Chapter One on the burning and
rebuilding of the shrine.
253

CONCLUSION
It is in the apparent popularity of the Inari festivals that we can see the seeds of the
ubiquity that will eventually lead to Inari being designated a hayarigami.
527
The journey of the
god into the city is of course an inversion of the normal pilgrimage process where a propitiator
would go to Inari’s mountain and climb to venerate the kami. In both cases we see the forging of
relationships, as either the people could go to the god or the god could come to them. The back
and forth allows an interpenetration of the kami’s domain into the life of the city dweller. As the
festival grew in prestige over time, with both increased participation by the people of the city and
increased resources invested to facilitate the rites by those same people, thereby reifying the role
of the population at broad in the propitiation of the kami, it is unsurprising that Inari came more
and more to be thought of as a god of the people of the city. A former president of one of the
groups involved in the modern Gion Festival once said that a matsuri “was meant for both
‘matsuru’ and ‘miru’; that is, it was an event both to propitiate the deities and also to view.”
528

This is a profound and helpful notion. However, I will urge that we recognize that “miru” or “to
view” is not a passive happening and instead is a participatory action. Even the viewing binds the
watcher of the procession to the kami and creates a relationship. In other words, as long as the
Inari Festival was exciting, vibrant, and attention getting each year, and claimed a prominent
place in the city’s landscape, the people of Kyoto would feel a connection to the kami from

527
A hayarigami 流行神 is a deity whose popularity increases dramatically in a short amount of
time. Hayarigami stir up such widespread and mass support that they are considered to have driven the
mass of people crazy. On Inari as hayarigami, see Hardacre, 269-275, and Nakagawa Sugane, "Inari
Worship in Early Modern Osaka," trans. Andrea C. Damon in James L. McClain and Wakita Osamu, eds.,
Osaka: The Merchant's Capital of Early Modern Japan (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999), 180-212.
528
Elisabetta Porcu, “Gion Matsuri in Kyoto: A Multilayered Religious Phenomenon,” Journal of
Religion in Japan 9 (2020): 70-71. The words quoted here are Porcu’s summary of Yoshida Kōjirō
statements to her.
254

Mount Inari. The success of the Inarisai should in that way be understood to be directly
correlative to the success of the Inari kami in spreading its cult.
At the same time, Inari’s reputation was spreading vividly through the literature of
vernacular stories and enthronement rituals. We see this in the interconnectedness of the
repertoires of Inari preserved in the stories of the Inariki, the texts of the Kanazawa archives, and
collections related to Kūkai and Tōji. These works provided a means to indicate that Inari was
not only a deity to protect a particular family or group, but also that their efficacy could be
deployed in many situations or to address many concerns across the land. There is a double
movement here that served Inari well in the following centuries. The new myths of Inari
expanded the kami’s purview beyond the mountain shrine, but the narrative always turns back to
anchor the kami cult to that mountain shrine. In this way, the expansion of the cult’s repertoire
could be controlled to keep the Inari kami and their mountain at the center of the confluence of
new religious discourses.
The dissemination of this literature allowed the Inari cult to become unbound from
Mount Inari. This was important as it was necessary for Inari to eventually be enshrined in new
places.
529
Inari, through the narratives related to heteromorphic sovereignty and the activities of
liminal characters was able to partially dislocate itself from the limits of being tied to a specific
mountain locale. For kami, deities nearly synonymous with their locations in the geographical
landscape, this sort of ability to move around was not guaranteed and was certainly a necessity

529
There is some documentation to support that there were Inari sub-shrines established as early
as the Kamakura period, that is small shrines or altars that were built on the grounds of other shrine-
temple complexes. There is a 1207 ganmon that indicates such a sub-shrine was established in the
precincts of Settsu province’s Fushō sandō 仏照⼭堂 and the Azumakagami references an Ōkura Inari ⼤
倉稲荷 connected to Kamakura’s Tsurugaoka Hachimangu. No independent branch shrines can be
confirmed prior to the end of the premodern period. See Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku
Nenshi, 346-351.
255

for the multiplication of shrines. Some Japanese deities, such as the Hachiman and Kasuga gods,
were able to accomplish this spread early. Inari really only found its opportunity with the new
lives of the medieval period. This provided too an avenue for the ideas of the Inari of the city
festivals to travel east to Edo. We particularly saw this with stories from the Kanazawa archives.
Shōmyōji was a long way from Kyoto and Mount Inari, but still Inari in conjunction with
Dakiniten was at the center of those ritual traditions.
Yet, the importance of Mount Inari itself was not diminished in this process of expansion.
The mountain was still a key site for Dakiniten rituals, and therefore a location of authority. The
popularity of Hatsuuma pilgrimages continued throughout history. Of course, taking a shirushi
no sugi home following these pilgrimages is not just taking along the kami, but it is taking a part
of the mountain too. Then as well, the highlight of the Inarisai is the Kankōsai, the return to the
mountain, not the going into the city. In other words, while medieval proponents of Inari curated
the repertoire of the deity, they did so in a way that assured the central significance of what
would become known as the Fushimi Inari Great Shrine. Today, many branch shrines of Inari are
likewise located on mountains. This relates back to the notion that many such local Japanese
deities have been situated on peaks, but it cannot be dismissed that this also replicates the key
feature of the Fushimi Inari shrine in the imaginary. Even as the Inari deity was a being allowed
to move about the religious landscape, in the end, the discourse of the cult turned back to the
mountain and its shrine.
I think that this parallels the dynamics of the relations between Inari and other institutions
as well. The dissertation shows that the kami over time built up substantial relationships with
many groups of great social authority: the Jingikan, the emperor, the Fujiwara families,
numerous Buddhist schools, and the people of Kyoto. It is easy to view these as cases of the elite
256

coopting the divinity and efficacy of Inari. This surely was happening. However, the proponents
of Inari, whether directly affiliated with the shrine or those located elsewhere, were not passive
and they actively used the new associations with power to claim some authority for the kami and
shrine as well. In other words, yes, the divinity of Inari was lent out to support Buddhist ideas
about sovereignty or to create new ties between Tōji and the city, but the foxes now are all
seemingly Inari’s (or at least Inari-Dakiniten’s). This could not have happened unless Inari’s
place in such discourses of heteromorphic sovereignty was sufficiently successful. The dialectic
of turning attention back to the shrine worked as well in the relation to discourses of authority as
in the diversification of the god’s repertoire.
This is precisely what needs more care and attention in considerations of the meeting and
mixing of kami traditions and Buddhist traditions in premodern Japan. Indeed, the honji suijaku
paradigm allowed for an intellectual means to subjugate kami to buddhas and bodhisattvas. It
eventually provided an opportunity to flip the script too. At times, intellectuals were most
concerned with hierarchies apparent in those sorts of relations. However, in practice, for instance
in the activity of forging connections between Inari and Kūkai or Inari and Dakiniten, the process
of association leads to horizontal connections at least as often as hierarchical connections. The
horizontal connections allow for institutions, groups, and ideas to act in concert to spread
mutually beneficial myths and traditions. In this vein, just as a kami is now able to move across
the landscape, so is the related authority. At least in what is discernable from the above stories,
kami and buddhas share divine efficacy mutually much more often than they need to borrow
from one or the other. If we are going to understand the role of major kami such as Kamo,
Matsuno’o, Sumiyoshi, and others in amongst the activities of the Buddhist schools within the
medieval imaginary, we must take seriously their positions as legitimate loci of divine authority
257

able to hold their own in negotiations with other sources of power. That is, the honji suijaku
connections from early on provided an opportunity for the multiple voices of many cults to be
present and heard in chorus and cooperation. As is the case in discursive actions, there are
multiple loci of authority, and even those with less authority are still able to participate in the
formation of the discourse. I think that in this regard the dissertation has provided new means
and impetus for exploring how in the contested spaces of the meetings of religious traditions,
negotiations between the ideologies of those traditions infuse imaginations with multiples
sources of authority. The growth and diversification of a religious repertoire, like that related to
the Inari kami and shrine, entails the addition of new voices as new tools and ideas are added
through the compromises made in bringing together multiple traditions. These voices can be seen
in the Tōji narratives about the founding of the shrine, in the relationship between Inari and
Kitano Tenjin, or in the increased prominence of the Myōbu and Dakiniten aspects of the kami’s
identity in the medieval period. Because of Inari’s particular prominence, the cult was a good
study for this phenomenon, albeit less prominent cults may have required more subtle voices.
In the end, this too likely leads to the enduring appeal of Inari. The kami did not originate
from one of the most central loci of authority in Japan, such as the imperial cult or the Fujiwara,
yet its cult was able to successfully associate with those sorts of central powers while
maintaining a position of liminality. In other words, like the concepts of heteromorphic
sovereignty, the foxes of Inari were appealing because they allowed one to have it both ways:
center and periphery, orthodoxy and heterodoxy were all available within the kami’s repertoire.
The particular processes and machinations of the spread of the Inari cult(s) through new
shrines and new worshippers of Inari confraternities (講 kō), will be necessary to fully
understand the success of Inari in the early modern and modern periods. There are significantly
258

more sources available for studying the Inari cult during the Edo period. For instance, many of
the new branch shrines are able to provide their own myths about their own origins and versions
of Inari from this time. There are also new batches of gazetteers for Edo and Osaka that can
provide insights into the activities of the Inari cults. There are too economic records related to
donations and the confraternities. The plethora of early modern sources, while certainly
complicating and clouding the study of Inari, provide hope that a thorough investigation of the
transition of Inari to hayarigami could be done. Ultimately, I suspect this will come down to one
of the significant issues that drove Inari’s success in the premodern period: how did particular
populations in new locations negotiate, maintain, and change the kami’s image and function?
This dissertation has provided a good starting point for that and other future comparative work
with other kami cults.
259

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278

APPENDIX: TABLES
Table 1: Visits by Emperors and Retired Emperors to the Inari Shrine.
Date Event Details Source
1072/03/26 (Enkyū 延久 4)
Emperor Go Sanjō imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Fusōryakki
1077/12/01 (Jōryaku 承暦 1)
Emperor Shirakawa imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines
Suisaki 水左記
1090/02/27 (Kanji 寛治 4)
Retired Emperor Shirakawa
stops at Inari shrine after trip to
Kumano, presents wand
offering.
Kumano gongen kōngōza
ōhōdenzōkō nikki 熊野権現金
剛蔵王宝殿造功⽇記
1091/10/03 (Kanji 5) Emperor Horikawa imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Go Nijō moromichiki 後⼆条師
通記
1113/11/29 (Eikyū 永久 1)
Emperor Toba imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Denryaku 殿暦
1131/03/19 (Tenshō 天承 1)
Emperor Sutoku imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Chōjūki ⻑秋記
1143/03/04 (Kōji 康治 2)
Retired Emperor Sutoku visits
Inari shrine after returning from
Kumano.
Honchō seiki
1149/11/25 (Kyūan 久安 5)
Emperor Konoe imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Hyōhanki 兵範記
1162/08/20 (Ōhō 応保 2)
Emperor Nijō imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Hyakurenshō
1167/10/11 (Nin’an 仁安 2)
Retired Emperor Go Shirakawa
visits Inari shrine after returning
from Kumano.
Hyōhanki
1172/10/23 (Jōan 承安 2)
Emperor Takakura imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Gyokuyō 玉葉
1183/02/05 (Juei 寿永 2)
Dharma Emperor Go Shirakawa
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Kikki 吉記
1189/02/03 (Bunji ⽂治 5)
Dharma Emperor Go Shirakawa
procession to Inari shrine.
Nakasuke ōki 仲資王記
1194/12/02 (Kenkyū 建久 5)
Emperor Go Toba imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Hyakurenshō
1200/i02/14 (Shōji 正治 2)
Retired Emperor Go Toba visits
Inari, Hie, Gion, and other
shrines.
Hyakurenshō
279

1200/12/15 Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari shrine.
Meigetsuki 明月記
1201/10/26 (Kennin 建仁 1)
Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari shrine.
Offerings of sutras and food
stuffs.
Kennin gannen Kumanosan
gokōki 建仁元年熊野⼭御幸記
1203/08/03 (Kennin 3) Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari shrine.
Offerings of sutras, food stuffs,
and mikagura.
Meigetsuki
1206/05/16 (Ken’ei 建永 1)
Retired Emperor Go Toba visits
Inari shrine after returning from
Kumano.
Meigetsuki
1206/08/16 Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari shrine and
Iwashimizu Hachimangū.
Meigetsuki
1207/10/24 (Jōgen 承元 1)
Retired Emperor Go Toba and
Shichijō’in visit to Inari shrine
after returning from Kumano.
Meigetsuki
1210/08/05 (Jōgen 4) Emperor Juntoku imperial
procession to Inari shrine.
Gushin 愚紳
1213/11/16 (Kenpo 健保 1)
Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari shrine.
Meigetsuki
1214/01/22 (Kenpo 2) Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari, Gion,
Iwashimizu Hachimangū, and
other shrines.
Hyakurenshō
1214/04/20 Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari shrine.
Go Toba in shinki 後鳥羽院宸
1215/08/16 (Kenpo 3) Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari, Kamo, Gion,
and other shrines.
Hyakurenshō
1216/04/20 (Kenpo 4) Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari shrine.
Bengō hikki 便豪秘記
1217/11/17 (Kenpo 5) Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari, Gion,
Iwashimizu Hachimangū, and
other shrines.
Hyakurenshō
1218/01/27 (Kenpo 6) Retired Emperor Go Toba and
Jumeimon’in procession to
Inari, Gion, Iwashimizu
Hachimangū, and other shrines.
Hyakurenshō
1218/04/26 Retired Emperor Go Toba and
Jumeimon’in procession to Inari
shrine. Seven-day retreat.
Hyakurenshō
1218/08/13 Retired Emperor Go Toba and
Jumeimon’in procession to
Inari, Kumano, and other
shrines.
Ninnaji hinamiki 仁和寺⽇次記
280

1218/12/21 Retired Emperor Go Toba
procession to Inari, Hie, Gion,
and other shrines.
Ninnaji hinamiki
1219/10/05 (Jōkyū 承久 1)
Emperor Juntoku imperial
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Kōtei kishō 皇帝紀抄
1248/08/05 (Hōji 宝治 2)
Retired Emperor Go Saga
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Yōkōki 葉⻩記
1250/04/05 (Kenchō 建⻑ 2)
Retired Emperor Go Saga
procession to Inari after
returning from Kumano.
Oka no ya kanpakuki 岡屋関⽩
記
1251/02/13 (Kenchō 3) Retired Emperor Go Saga
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Hyakurenshō
1262/01/22 (Kōchō 弘⻑ 2)
Retired Emperor Go Saga and
Retired Emperor Go Fukakusa
procession to Inari. Seven-day
retreat.
Zokushi gushō 続史愚抄
1266/01/17 (Bun’ei ⽂永 3)
Retired Emperor Go Saga and
Retired Emperor Go Fukakusa
procession to Inari and Gion
shrines.
Geki nikki 外記⽇記
This table is adapted from Fushimi Inari Taisha Gochinza Sensanbyaku nenshi, 119.

281

Table 2: Modern Fushimi Inari Ritual Calendar
Date Name Details
January 1st
Saitansai 歳旦祭
New Year rituals for peace
and tranquility in the coming
year. After initial rites at the
main shrine, priests visit each
sub-shrine in the complex.
January 5th
Ōyamasai ⼤⼭祭
Seven sacred sites throughout
the mountain are marked off.
After rites at main shrine,
priests head to site in
Gozendani 御膳⾕ where
offerings of sake are made
upon the Gozen stone 御膳
石. These are for bountiful
harvests and family
prosperity. Afterwards the
priests continue to the seven
sacred sites marked off in the
morning.
January 12th
Hōshasai 奉射祭
Simultaneous divination and
purification ceremony.
Assistant priests fire
ceremonial arrows at a target.
The act of firing purifies bad
luck from previous year.
Success of shots indicates the
success of upcoming harvest.
January, second Monday
Seinensai 成年祭
Coming of age ceremony.
Priests offer Inari’s protection
to new adults and prayers for
their future success.
February, day before first day
of spring
Setsubunsai 節分祭
Standard Setsubun practice of
welcoming transition from
winter to spring by throwing
of beans to expel bad luck
and gather good fortune.
February, First Day of the
Horse
Hatsuuma Taisai 初午⼤祭
See Chapter Five.
April 1st
Kenkasai 献花祭
Flower offering ceremony led
by the Ikenobo 池坊 school
of Ikebana.
April 8th
Sangyōsai 産業祭
Rituals to thank Inari for
success in business and ask
282

for continued prosperity.
Includes special performance
of Sakurabanamai 桜花舞
mikagura for offering.
April 8th
Kenchasai 献茶祭
Tea offering ceremony led by
Yabu no uchi 薮内流 school
of Sadō.
April 12th
Minakuchi hashusai 水口播
種祭
Ritual planting of rice seeds
in the shrine’s nursery
paddies.
April 20th
Inari Matsuri/Shinkōsai 神幸
祭
See Chapter Five.
April, last week
Inari Matsuri/Kunai junkō 区
内巡行
Portable shrines are led by
priests around the
parishioner’s territories.
May 3rd
Inari Matsuri/Kankōsai 還幸
祭
See Chapter Five.
June 10th
Tauesai ⽥植祭
Rice seedlings growing since
April are transferred to
shrine’s rice paddies.
Performance of Ondamai 御
⽥舞 mikagura for offering.
June 30th
Ōharae shiki ⼤祓式
Also called Minazuki no
Ōharae 水無月の⼤祓
Summer purification
ceremony. Faults or
transgressions unknowingly
committed from the
beginning of the year are
transferred to dolls, which are
then released into streams or
the ocean. Afterwards, priests
and other ceremony attenders
step through a large circle of
sedge to signify fresh
entrance into the second half
of the year.
July, first Sunday after
Midsommar
Motomiyasai 本宮祭
Day on which parishioners of
Inari shrines across Japan
come to visit the Fushimi
Inari shrine in appreciation.
October, the two days before
Health and Sports Day
Kōin Taisai 講員⼤祭
Festival in which members of
the Inari devotional
associations offer thanks for
283

family health and prosperity.
Often participation from other
Inari shrines.
October 24th
Kenchasai 献茶祭
Tea offering ceremony led by
Urasenke 裏千家 school of
Sadō.
October 25th
Nukihosai 抜穂祭
Ritual harvesting of rice
planted in July.
November 1st
Kenkasai 献花祭
Flower offering ceremony led
by the Saga goryū 嵯峨御流
school of Ikebana.
November 8th
Hitakisai 火焚祭
Fire ceremony held to offer
thanks for Inari in success of
harvest and for life of all
things. Wooden tablets
offered from all across the
country are burned. Rice
straw harvested during the
Nukihosai is also offered.
Mikagura is offered later in
the evening.
November 23rd
Niinamesai 新嘗祭
Ritual offering of rice
harvested at the Nukinosai to
thank Inari for success of the
harvest and prayer for
continued peace of the
country.
December 31st
Ōharae shiki ⼤祓式
Also called Shiwasu no
Ōharae 師走の⼤祓
Ritual purification to prepare
for the new year. Like the
sixth month ceremony,
transgressions are conveyed
to doll figures and cast into
the waters. Followed by
thanks to Inari for help
surviving the year.
This table is compiled from information provided by the Fushimi Inari Website.
http://inari.jp/rite/?month=1%E6%9C%88

Abstract (if available)

Abstract This project examines the cult of the Japanese god named Inari and the Fushimi Inari Shrine of Kyoto during the premodern period. With over forty thousand shrines, this indigenous god, known as a kami, is today among the most popular gods of modern Japan and thought of as a deity of rice, wealth, and good fortune. However, during the premodern period, Inari’s identity had not yet solidified, and the deity took many forms as a primary character in varied discourses from both the state and Buddhist institutions, as well as groups outside of those official boundaries. Inari was at times a deity that dealt out curses and at other times a bestower of imperial sovereignty. Through an examination of the ties of this kami’s unstable identity to cultural imaginaries and Buddhist ideologies, I explore how Inari rose from being a local deity to a state protector to a god of fortune for everyone.
Using the cult of Inari as a case study, my dissertation examines the ways in which the identities of indigenous Japanese gods benefitted and expanded in the face of heightened competition and cooperation between Buddhist and kami traditions during the medieval period. Even a brief reading of Inari-related sources shows that discourses associated with the kami utilized elements from Buddhist ideologies, Yin-Yang theories, and Chinese legends as well as ideas specific to the veneration of Japanese kami. Therefore, this dissertation is also in many ways about the relations between what are conveniently termed “religions” and the way that people negotiate the meeting of disparate religious discourses through imagination to reach new traditions.
At the confluence between multiple religious traditions, Inari became a subject for the numerous discourses of the people involved in those traditions. As such a subject, Inari was a locus for working out the meanings of abstract religio-social concepts, such as sovereignty and wisdom. The dissertation demonstrates that in the activity of the meeting of these religious traditions around Inari, the kami’s identity was constantly reimagined and it was precisely through this reimagining that the cult of Inari and the traditions of the deity were able to gain sufficient cultural purchase to ensure it would have a prominent place in the religious landscape of Japan into the modern period.

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Asset Metadata

Creator Keller, Matthew Paul (author)

Core Title The appeal of the fox: the cult of Inari and premodern Japan

School College of Letters, Arts and Sciences

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Religion

Degree Conferral Date 2022-05

Publication Date 04/15/2022

Defense Date 03/11/2022

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag Buddhism,confluences of religious traditions,festival religion,Inari,japan,kami,Mythology,OAI-PMH Harvest,ritual statecraft,Shinto

Format application/pdf (imt)

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Contributor Electronically uploaded by the author (provenance)

Advisor Meeks, Lori (committee chair), Bialock, David (committee member), McHugh, James (committee member), Webb, Jason (committee member)

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