Tag: Politics

A Look At the Hellenistic Age Dynasties

The Hellenistic Age in history is the period after Alexander the Great died in 323 BCE, when his soldiers scrambled for power over the vast conquered empire, and ruling the known world for three centuries until they were toppled one by one by the Roman Republic.

These dynasties, descended from Alexander’s generals and philoi (trusted companions), were all Greco-Macedonian in culture and language, yet because each dynasty ruled over a different culture: Egyptian, Persian, Babylonian, and so on, they took on their own unique characteristics. These Hellenistic kings exemplified masculine warrior king ideology as they competed for legitimacy through warfare and conquest, with no overarching political ideology.

Let’s look at a couple examples.

The Seleucid Empire

The Cylinder of Antiochus I Soter, the second ruler of the Empire. This is written in traditional Akkadian cuneiform per Babylonian tradition. Photo by Photograph: Bert van der SpekTranslation: Ernest Alfred Wallis Budge (1884)Transcription: Theophilus Goldridge Pinches M.R.A.S. (1856 – 6 June 1934 Muswell Hill, London), CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The Seleucid Empire, descended from former general Seleukos I Nikator (“the victor”). The Seleucid Dynasty had by far the largest chunk of Alexander’s conquests, but also the most difficult to maintain. The diversity of people of people from the Levant, including the Hebrews, the Babylonians, the Parthians, and peoples in northwest India required constant vigilance to rule by a tiny Greco-Macedonian minority.

To assist with their rule, the Seleucids wisely adopted Babylonian customs and religious ceremonies, while their patron god Apollo synthesized with eastern Persian (and Parthian) cultures who venerated archery. The Seleucid kings had to go on campaign constantly to maintain control over such a large empire, while maintaining religious functions in Babylon. The satraps (local kings ruling each province in Persian tradition) required constant discipline because they were prone to set themselves up as rivals. The early Seleucid rulers also established or augmented Greek colonies across the empire to help maintain rule.

The powerful Antiochus III Megas, (a.k.a. Antiochus the Great) made a famous Anabasis campaign that took him all the way to Kabul, Afghanistan to crush rebel satrap Euthydemus I, in Bactria, before swinging back around and crushing then re-subjugating Persia, and Coele Syria (the lands around modern Israel). Antiochus III Megas, the most successful of the Seleucid rulers, only keep it all together through sheer force of will and constant warfare, and many later rulers were simply not as capable or successful.

After Antiochus III, the empire began to unravel as his sons Seleucus IV Philopator and Antiochus IV Epiphanes, and their progeny gradually split the ruling family, as one side would usurp the throne, while the other would eventually reclaim it. All this happened, as enemies gradually increased on their borders, and the territory they ruled over got smaller and smaller.

Antiochus IV Epiphanes is particularly infamous in the biblical tradition, namely in the Old Testament, for his Abomination of Desolation (defiling the Temple of Jerusalem and replacing worship of G*d with pagan idols) and became the archetypal antichrist figure later. The Hellenistic Age podcast has a really nice series of episodes about this period:

Definitely check them out if interested. By the way, the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah dates from the time of Antiochus IV, and his (failed) efforts to crush the Maccabean revolt, though according to the Hellenistic Age Podcast, the tradition of the Menorah seems to date some time later. (Happy Hanukah to Jewish readers, btw!)

Ptolemaic Egypt

The Ptolemies, by contrast, ruled a somewhat smaller empire, but it was more culturally unified, and incredibly rich. By the time Alexander the Great came to Egypt, Egypt as a nation-state had already existed for 2500-3000 years. So, Egyptian culture was OLD even by the standards of the ancient Greeks.

To rule such a state, the Ptolemies adopted rulership as another Pharonic dynasty, technically the 33rd such dynasty if you are counting. Unlike the traditional dynasts of Egypt, who ruled from either Memphis (Old Kingdom) or Thebes (New Kingdom), the Ptolemies settled in the northwest city of Alexandria, and ruled over a small but powerful Greek aristocracy. Much like the Seleucids, this ethnically Greek minority had certain privileges and rights that the rest of the population did not, and frequently filled key positions of the powerful bureaucracy. Their phalanx armies were, until relatively late, ethnically Greek in composition, while the Egyptian mostly fielded armies of archers and sailors. The Ptolemies were filthy rich, because the bureaucratic system they inherited from Egyptian society was so effective at regulating taxation and exploiting the farm labor for maximum profit.

Alexandria itself grew to a powerful center of learning and culture in the Mediterranean (rivaled only by Antioch in the Seleucid Empire) under Ptolemy II Philadelphus, and Greek religion synthesized with Egyptian leading to gods such as Sarapis with Greek deities, leading to an explosion of popularity in Egyptian deities (particularly Isis) outside of Egypt. These “refurbished” Egyptian deities didn’t always resemble their original Egyptian form, but represented a fascinating synthesis of Greek thought and Egyptian religion.

Edit: Extra History happened to put out a nice video about the Ptolemies in Egypt here:

Confusingly, every single king from Ptolemy I Soter to Ptolemy XIV Philopator was named Ptolemy. Every one of them. Further, brother-sister marriages were practiced with each generation per Egyptian custom, so after so many generations, you can guess what happened. The truth is, Hellenistic kings frequently married their sisters, not just the Ptolemies, since the available pool of “eligible” women of sufficient pedigree (ethnically Macedonian-Greek, from one of the elite families) were pretty small. So, after a few generations, every Hellenistic monarch was marrying a relative in some form of another, much like the Hapsburgs many centuries later.

Corruption was a chronic problem in the Ptolemy court, especially after Ptolemy IV Philopator, who lived a reckless and decadent life, then died, leaving the kingdom a mess for sycophants and corrupt officials to run into the ground. Things unravelled and got so bad that at one point, there were two Ptolemy kings (VI and VIII) who were rivals, one of them married to his sister Cleopatra III at some point, each fighting over Egypt as the Seleucid rule Antiochus IV above nearly overran Egypt until the Romans stepped into tell him to go home.

Out of all Hellenistic kingdoms, Egypt under the Ptolemies lasted the longest, but by the time that Cleopatra (yes that famous Cleopatra, the VII) died with her lover Marcus Antonius (Marc Antony) after the Battle of Actium, Egypt was a flailing, second-rate power that had greatly diminished through the centuries.

Problems with the Hellenistic Kingdoms

Although each kingdom, including the Ptolemies and Seleucids, was diverse in how Greek culture interacted with local cultures, there were some functional problems that affected each one until the Romans eventually crushed them one by one.

First, as you might have guessed, they fought each other a lot. The Hellenistic dynasts were constantly warring with one another. This required tremendeous funds to raise armies, but Hellenistic warfare relied upon Greco-Macedonian phalanxes, which were difficult to raise and train. So, with their vast wealth, they would often just buy their way out of the problem and hire huge mercenary armies. However, once you lost your army in battle, it was hard to raise another one quickly. By contrast, the Romans raised large citizen armies quickly and cheaply, so when an army was lost, they’d just raise more of them and replace their numbers. When Antiochus III lost to the Romans at the Battle of Magnesia, the empire never quite recovered.

Second, each royal family was constantly fighting with itself. The Antigonids who ruled Macedon proper were the exception, in that they faithfully supported one another until near the end, but the Seleucids and especially the Ptolemies were constantly murdering other family members. The strong central power of the king, with little or no shared power, meant that absolute power was very attractive and “there could only be one”.

Third, because monarchs often died relatively young, eunuchs and powerful ministers often filled in as regents (again the Antigonids were a happy exception), and many of them did not rule justly or honestly, leading to further conflicts and revolts.

Finally, because they were ethnic minorities ruling over much larger territories, mismanagement led to revolts that required even more resources to suppress. Very few Ptolemies, for example, learned the Egyptian language fluently, preferring to use Greek. Some monarchs tried to “Hellenize” subject cultures through organizing Greek-style poleis cities, gymnasiums and other features. Further, subject people often found it handy to take on Greek-style names, and style in order to find work in the government. Many famous Jewish people at the time spoke and wrote in fluent Greek while still maintaining traditions handed down from their Hebrew forefathers.

Across the Hellenistic world, the once powerful kingdoms, descendents of Alexander the Great and his famed army, collectively faded in power through squabbles, unstable regimes, and failure to adapt to new threats, and some whims of Fate, until they either were crushed by other, newer powers (Rome in the West, Parthians in the East). That being the case, the cultural legacy of the Hellenistic kingdoms, and the (often bumpy) synthesis of cultures is super fascinating, and its echoes still lives on with us today in such things as Hanukkah, Buddhist statuary, famous philosophers, the Library of Alexandria, and many more.

P.S. featured photo is a reconstruction of the Pergamon Temple in Berlin, Germany, a famous Hellenistic Age monument. Photo by Lestat (Jan Mehlich), CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Confronting a Suffering World

More than any other year in recent history, it seems like 2025 is a year where we are suffering more than before. It is frustrating to watch all this unfold, frustrating to know that even when you try to help, it feels like it makes no difference, and frustrating to see no light at the end of the tunnel. I feel a combination of denial, passivity, frustration, anger, despair, and everything in between, over and over.

IVANOVA: Damn it, John, there’s always too many of them and not enough of us. What am I supposed to do?

SHERIDAN: Fight them without becoming them.

Babylon 5, “Dust to Dust”, s3:ep06

But I’ve also been thinking about this a lot, and I realized that the forces of History are always in motion, even if we don’t see them. It can take years, or in some cases decades to see the bigger picture.

Claude from Fire Emblem: Three Houses saying “…but even while you’re standing still, the world keeps on moving. I always find that oddly comforting.”

But also, the little things we are doing here and now still matter. What happens to others who are suffering affects us, even if we are not consciously aware of it.

G’KAR: If we deny the other, we deny ourselves and we will cease to exist.

Babylon 5, “Point of No Return”, s3:ep9

Even those whom we oppose are suffering, even if we do not comprehend it:

If both sides are dead, no one will care which side deserves the blame. It no longer matters who started it, G’Kar. It only matters who is suffering.

Babylon 5, “Dust to Dust”, s3:ep6

So, simply standing back and letting history unfold isn’t enough. On the other hand it is just not possible to save the whole world. Even if I gave away everything I have here and now, it would be a drop in the bucket.

Instead, each one of us needs to find one small thing that we can dedicate ourselves to, for the good of others. In a Pure Land Buddhist text, The Larger Sutra of Immeasurable Life, the Buddha Amitabha started as a king, then a bodhisattva, and through tireless efforts over eons transformed his realm into the Pure Land through countless good acts, accumulated merit, and so on. This process was glacial, but it came to fruition nonetheless.

In the same way, each one of us when we dedicate ourselves to a cause, however small, it feels glacial. Nothing changes. But change does happen. As with the forces of History, things do unfold, but our actions help shift the currents of the “river of History” ever so little.

But even so, not every one will see this and understand. In the immense Buddhist tome, the Avatamsaka Sutra (a.k.a. the “Flower Garland Sutra”), is a famous quote:

On seeing a bodhisattva
Perform various practices,
Some give rise to a good mind and others a mind of evil,
But the bodhisattva embraces them all.

Original translation from the Collected Works of Shinran, courtesy of the Jōdo Shinshū Hongwanji-ha

This is the Mahayana Buddhist in a nutshell.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

Namu Amida Butsu

P.S. Thanks to a bug in my blogging app I posted two posts at the same time last week. Apologies for any confusion.

Also, I am still resting a little from burnout, so no blog schedule for now. I wanted to at least finish some mostly-complete drafts for now.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

MCCOY: What he’s saying, Spock, is that a man who holds that much power, even with the best intentions, just can’t resist the urge to play God.

Star Trek, “Patterns of Force” (s2ep21), Stardate 2534.0

Since the beginning of time, powerful men have risen and then fallen. Doesn’t matter which culture, or which time period, sooner or later someone wants to be the Alpha, King of Kings, Pharoah, Shogun, President for Life, etc etc. It happens over and over again, and more often than not they self-destruct or their legacy crumbles after their death.

Take the case of Marcus Licinius Crassus, better known in history as simply “Crassus”. Crassus was absurdly rich. His wealth, and the political influence he bought with it, would make many hotshot-CEO’s today look like chumps.

And yet, Crassus died in 53 BCE with molten gold poured down his throat by Parthian warriors. His hated rival, Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (“Pompey”) was murdered on the beaches of Egypt a few years later. And of course the final member of this “gang of three”, Julius Caesar, didn’t last much longer.

We can look at examples and think to ourselves “what fools!”, but I think an even bigger lesson from this is that it can happen to any of us given the right circumstances. When we have power and authority, it is almost inevitable that we start to play god. In the Star Trek episode “Patterns of Force”, a historian tampered with an alien planet and (inadvertently) turned them into space Nazis.

The Ring of Power from J.R.R, Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series illustrates this. Any person who gets a hold of the Ring, whether they be wizards, kings or elf-lords or even just hobbits, inevitably become corrupted.

Even Galadriel, one of the last of the mighty Noldor Elves on Middle-Earth and among the wisest of the elf-lords, was briefly tempted when Frodo offered her the ring, asking him if he wanted her to be a queen “terrible and fair”. Yet unlike her kin, she was able to resist and avoided a more terrible fate.

I feel I would be tempted too. This week I am filling in for my boss who’s on vacation, and even with this small dose of authority, I feel tempted to throw my weight around. How much more so if I was a world leader.

Why are we prone to this behavior?

I suspect it’s simply ego: our desire to mold the world in our own image. Even if we believe we are doing the right thing for others, our own ego blinds us to realities on the ground. If I had such power, I would probably fall into the same trap. People with strong egos are even more blind because they want so badly to project themselves onto the world while choosing to ignore the suffering it causes.

Of course someone has to be in charge. There has to be some form of authority for societies (or offices) to function. But it has to be treated as a radioactive, hot potato: something to be handled very carefully.

Anyhow, rambling thoughts here from the “Ozymandius” of my workplace.

Something fun to end this post though (direct link).

Enjoy!

Power

Another Roman history nerd moment, if you will indulge me….

By 45 BCE, Gaius Julius Caesar (aka Julius Caesar) had defeated his rival Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (aka Pompey the Great) in a lengthy civil war and returned to Rome.

From here, Julius Caesar kept pushing the limits of power, with no one pushing back, inching closer and closer to a king. Special thanks to Historia Civilis for these fun, awesome history videos:

His power grab was crass and violated centuries of tradition and laws, yet the Senate was packed with loyalists who just went along with it for personal gain, while opposition was uncoordinated and ineffective (special nod to Tribune of the Plebs, Pontius Aquila, though).

Even after Caesar’s demise, nothing really got better.

Instead, the facade of government was no longer there and lacked any real legitimacy, so men just grabbed power.

In time the Second Triumvirate (aka “rule by three men”) formed under:

Through a combination of purges, rivals were eliminated until eventually the Triumvirate turned on one another with only Octavian left standing.

Contrary to popular belief, the Roman Senate and other functions of state continued to exist. The res publica that is Rome never stopped being the res publica until 1453 CE with the Fall of Constantinople. Octavian didn’t even declare himself Emperor. He adopted the title princeps (“first among many”) as the leader of the Senate.

However, real power rested with Octavian and his descendants, the Julio-Claudian dynasty, and the Senate just kept getting weaker and weaker over the generations until by the time of the Eastern Romans (aka the Byzantines), it was pretty much ceremonial: honorific titles to confer on allied and friends. Even the title princeps kept going until Diocletian in the third century dropped the act and just called himself Emperor.

Speaking of the Eastern Romans, the line of Emperors continuing all the way to Konstatinos (“Constatine”) XI Palailogos in 1453 had its ups and downs. During a time of succession crisis, someone would once again fill the power vacuum and rule with blatant power, rather than legitimate rule. Emperor Konstatinos VII Porphyrogenitus in the 10th century had legitimacy, but he practically did nothing because his father-in-law Romanos Lekapenos held real power, and just propped his son-in-law up for legitimacy. Centuries later, when Constantinople was on the brink, Ioannes (“John VI”) Kantakouzenos in the late 13th launched a civil, and hired tons of Turkish mercenaries to fight for him. Needless say these, these Ottoman Turks didn’t leave, and, the Eastern Romans lasted only another 100 years.

This, by the way, is not limited to Western political history. In fact, centuries before the Roman Republic, if you look the famous Spring and Autumn Period in Chinese history, you see many examples of this too. Local nobility gradually morphed into warlords as the central Zhou (pronounced “Joe”) Dynasty lost its central grip on power. Kǒngzǐ (aka “Confucius”), living generations later when the system has practically collapsed, laments how local warlords perform religious rites that used to be accorded to the Emperor, and not someone of their station. These were gross power grabs, and Confucius criticized their lack of propriety and respect for the traditions and rites of the times.

Why do I mention all this?

It seems there is a pattern in history and politics than when governments are weak, someone with ambition fills the vacuum and just pushes things over. Such strongmen rule with power, not laws. As Frank Herbert wrote in the Dune series:

“All governments suffer a recurring problem: Power attracts pathological personalities. It is not that power corrupts but that it is magnetic to the corruptible.”

Frank Herbert, Chapterhouse: Dune

Going all the way back to Pompey the Great, there is a famous quote attributed to him by Plutarch which in Greek said:1

‘οὐ παύσεσθε,’ εἶπεν, ‘ἡμῖν ὑπεζωσμένοις ξίφη νόμους ἀναγινώσκοντες;’
“…at which Pompey said: “Cease quoting laws to us that have swords girt about us!””

Source for English here

This quote has been on my mind a lot lately, and is what spurred this lengthy diatribe, I suppose.

Laws and rules are only effective when people respect them. When people stop respecting them, they cease to be effective. In such times, political principles and theory hardly matter anymore. Power becomes the only true constant.

And of course, as we all know, power is a fickle thing, and easily lost.

Truth and Truthier

Spock: Evil does seek to maintain power by suppressing the truth.
McCoy: Or by misleading the innocent.

Star Trek, “And The Children Shall Lead” (s3ep4), stardate 5029.5.

The season three episode of Star Trek, “And The Children Shall Lead” is widely considered a bottom-tier episode. It had a lot of problems, including its casting. Even as a classic Star Trek fan, I kind of despise this episode.

The evil entity “Gorgan”, played by infamous laywer Melvin Mouron Belli who had no prior acting experience. It was season three Trek at its worst.

But the premise of the episode did make a really important point: given the right persuasion, people (including children), can be made to do all kinds of terrible things. It just comes down to what someone asserts is “true” and if their argument is convincing enough. There’s plenty of examples in history, so I won’t belabor the point.

Or, like that old Simpsons gag:

Of course, ignorance as to what is actually true is the basis for our suffering, according to Buddhism. As thinking human beings, we have to piece together our understanding of the world as best we can, and hopefully we have good mentors along the way, but even a good mentor is not perfect. Simply put, subtle misperceptsions and misunderstandings can provide a foundation for a mountain of bad assumptions, stupid conduct, needless suffering. Thus, in Buddhism, this fundamental misunderstanding of things is one of the Three Poisons of the mind: the other two being anger and craving. But even anger and craving derive from misunderstanding too.

This is not something that can be fixed with some clever logic, or vaguely “zen-like” words. It’s a deeply seeded part of ourselves, something we cannot normally perceive in our daily lives, and even when you suppress it with willpower, it will surface again when you least expect it.

The Buddha described the awakening experience as “uprooting”:

….he [the renunciant monk] should develop the perception of inconstancy so as to uproot the conceit, ‘I am.’

Translation by Thanissaro Bhikkhu in the Meghiya Sutta of the Pali Canon (Ud 4:1 Meghiya)

Such a tree of ignorance isn’t cut down, leaving a stump; it is uprooted entirely.

Spock: “Humans do have an amazing capacity for believing what they choose and excluding that which is painful.”

Star Trek, “And The Children Shall Lead” (s3ep4), stardate 5029.5

But how can mundane people, who have yet to fully awaken, discern the truth?

The Buddha taught the Dharma. The Dharma is like a principle of existence (think: laws of physics), and it is something one can objectively measure their thoughts and actions against. In the words of the Buddha:

“Therefore, did we say, Kalamas, what was said thus, ‘Come Kalamas. Do not go upon what has been acquired by repeated hearing; nor upon tradition; nor upon rumor; nor upon what is in a scripture; nor upon surmise; nor upon an axiom; nor upon specious reasoning; nor upon a bias towards a notion that has been pondered over; nor upon another’s seeming ability; nor upon the consideration, “The monk is our teacher.”

Translation by Soma Thera of the Kalama Sutta of the Pali Canon (AN 3.65)

Intuition, logic, reasoning, or trust in a teacher or tradition is insufficient, because our own fundamental ignorance warps our understanding of such things. Instead, the Buddha encourages us to use simple benchmarks:

“What do you think, Kalamas? Does absence of greed [or hate, or delusion] appear in a man for his benefit or harm?” —

“For his benefit, venerable sir.” —

“Kalamas, being not given to greed [or hate, or delusion], and being not overwhelmed and not vanquished mentally by greed [or hate, or delusion], this man does not take life, does not steal, does not commit adultery, and does not tell lies; he prompts another too, to do likewise. Will that be long for his benefit and happiness?” —

“Yes, venerable sir.”

Translation by Soma Thera of the Kalama Sutta of the Pali Canon (AN 3.65)

Here, the Buddha is using the Five Precepts as a simple benchmark. Teachings and actions that lead to adherence of the Five Precepts (not taking life, stealing, adultery, etc) are proper teachings; choices that lead to breaking the Five Precepts are thus improper teachings. The monastic precepts are larger and have more rules, as are the Bodhisattva Precepts, but the essence is the same: a lifestyle that is honest, clean, and does not harm others in body, speech or mind.

The need for an objective benchmark such as the Dharma, is how we can know that words and teachings by others are for good or for ill. Evil can incite others to hate, or to lie and steal, but these clearly violate the benchmark that is the Five Precepts, and thus no matter what they say, we know they are false, conducive to harm, not good.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

Rhetoric and Reality

Violence in reality is quite different from theory.

Spock, “The Cloud Minders” (s3ep21), stardate 5818.4

The fantastic history podcast, Grey History, had an episode covering a dark period of the French Revolution: the September Massacres of 1792. When I listened to this episode recently, I was struck by how barbaric and senseless the violence was. The people of Paris were gripped with paranoia and fear over the arrival of the Prussian army, and whipped themselves up into a frenzy which then unleashed itself on prisoners of Paris who were all assumed to be part of a counter-revolutionary conspiracy. The eyewitness accounts of the event were horrifying.

What led up to the September Massacres was, from my limited understanding, a kind of death-spiral of paranoia and factional fighting among the Revolutionaries. This paranoia had some basis, in that there were some French counter-revolutionaries, but most of it was just imagined conspiracies of “fifth column” elements in society that got more and more outrageous and dire. As different factions accused one another more and more of conspiracy with the counter-revolution the violent rhetoric ratcheted up until someone decided to take matters in their own hands….

Rhetoric is one thing but once the first blow lands, or the weapon is drawn, a point of no return is crossed and many will needlessly die.

“Trouble can be purchased cheaply, though the refund may be more than you can bear.”

Roger Zelazny, Creatures of Light and Darkness

You speak of courage.  Obviously you do not know the difference between courage and foolhardiness.  Always it is the brave ones who die, the soldiers.

Kor, the Klingon Commander, “Errand of Mercy”, (s1ep26), stardate 3201.7

In short, small comments can have lasting consequences. That’s why the Buddha taught that right speech should be timely, true, and worthwhile. If not, best to simply keep quiet.

Further, studies have shown that non-violent demonstrations are statistically more effective in bringing about social change.

So, while social justice is a worthy goal, the means of achieving it, and how one expresses dissastisfaction can have lasting effects.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

A Medieval Buddhist Revolution? The Ikko-Ikki part one

A Japanese mural depicting the Battle of Azukizaka in 1564. In this mural, multiple samurai warriors, carrying banners are combatting one another, so that it is difficult to tell who is who.

Lately, I’ve been enjoying a fantastic history podcast called Grey History, covering the French Revolution in detail. While enjoying this show I started thinking about a famous peasant uprising in medieval Japanese history called the Ikko-Ikki rebellions of the 16th century.

The Ikko-Ikki rebellions are remarkable as being the one time in pre-modern Japanese history where a peasant uprising not only succeeded, but successfully carved out a region of Japan that was ruled by the masses, and not by military samurai, nor the old aristocracy from Kyoto. The binding influence of the uprising was a strong affinity to a certain Buddhist sect, the Jodo Shinshu (浄土真宗, “True Pure Land Sect”), but there was more to the Ikko-Ikki than a “rebel cult” as some labeled them.

Information in English about the Ikko-Ikki is sparse, and often misinformed. I am happy though to have obtained a copy of Dr Carol Tsang’s excellent book War and Faith: Ikko Ikki in Late Muromachi Japan (publisher link), covers the Ikko Ikki, who they were, and their relation to the Jodo Shinshu sect. It’s been a fascinating read even for an old “history nerd” like myself.

This post is part one of two three exploring the Ikko Ikki, but before we talk about the rebellions, we need to cover some Jodo Shinshu history. Speaking as someone who was part of the Jodo Shinshu community for a long time, and also a history nerd, Jodo Shinshu’s history is … different.

The Jodo Shinshu Sect

The Jodo Shinshu sect was one of several Buddhist sects that arose during the Kamakura Period of Japanese history (12th-14th centuries) as a kind of backlash to the Buddhist establishment at the time, and their close association with the ruling aristocracy. Starting with my favorite monk, Honen (法然, 1133 – 1212), a populist Pure Land Buddhist movement took shape, filling a gap that was missing in Japanese society at the time. To be clear, Pure Land Buddhism was not the only new Buddhist movement at the time: we see Nichiren Buddhism and new Zen sects imported from China as well. However, the Pure Land movement was much more widespread in comparison.1 Under Honen this movement was diverse, widespread, and loose-knit comprising of peasants, nobility, and clergy.

However, it was not to last.

The Pure Land Buddhist movement was punished by the Emperor in the Jogen Persecution of 1207 (承元の法難, jōgen no hōnan), and the community was scattered across many parts of Japan and its monks defrocked. Not unlike the many disciples of Socrates in classical Greece,2 these disciples each had their own recollection of Honen’s teachings, and since they were now living different provinces of Japan, individual sects and communities arose.

Some examples include:

  • Jodo Shu, Chinzei branch – started by Bencho.
  • Jodo Shu, Seizan branch – started by Shoku.
  • Jodo Shinshu – started by Shinran and the subject is this post.
  • “Single Nembutsu” teaching – started by Kosai (who was later denounced by Honen), but quickly faded.
  • “Many Nembutsu” teaching – started by Ryukan, but also petered out later.
  • Ji-shū – started by Ippen, who was not a direct discipled of Honen, but a disciple of Shoku’s disciple.
  • …. among other groups.

As we can see, Shinran (親鸞, 1173 – 1263) was one of these disciples.

A portrait of Shinran, founder of Jodo Shinshu, from the 13th century. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

According to some scholars, Shinran had been a mid-level disciple of Honen. When he was defrocked and sent to Echigo province he broke precedence, famously declaring that he was neither priest nor laymen. He then took a wife, and fathered children.

Shiran was not idle though. He was a prolific writer and teacher, spreading Honen’s message (as he understood it) to people in his province. After the exiles were pardoned, Shinran returned to Kyoto with his daughter Kakushin-ni (覚信尼, 1224-1281?) who cared for Shiran until his last days. Shinran spent his time in the capital still teaching, writing hymns and letters. When he passed, he left behind a large community of disciples in the provinces, and Kakushin-ni helped establish a mausoleum for her father in Kyoto. The ownership and maintenance of this mausoleum (later called the Honganji temple) was complicated, but it seems to have been a shared model between the disciples and supporters in the provinces, and Shinran’s descendants.

In time, Shinran’s grandson Kakué (覚恵, 1239 – 1307) assumed the role as caretaker of the mausoleum, the monshu (門首), after Kakushi-ni. Kakue passed on this hereditary role to his son Kakunyo (覚如, 1271 – 1351) and from here the role of Caretaker/Patriarch fell to successive descendants of Shinran even to this day. However at the time, the Honganji mausoleum was not very influential, compared to provincial communities. In time, that would change.

The “Karamon” gate of Nishi-Honganji (West Honganji) Temple in Kyoto, Japan. In the Edo Period, well after events here, the Honganji temple split into two separate temples and lineages due to strife between two brothers: east and west. Photo taken by me in 2010, hence the graininess (old camera phone). The Nishi Honganji temple website has excellent photos.

In any case, Jodo Shinshu from its outset was a firmly lay-Buddhist sect, the first in Japanese history. It was somewhat decentralized and had no monastic institution whatsoever. Other competing Pure Land sects listed above, were founded by monks, and still maintained some form of monastic institutions (some more than others) by contrast.

In the case of Jodo Shinshu, its local communities were organized by lay priests, peasants and craftsman who like Shinran worked and raised families. They organized religious gatherings in small dōjō (道場) rather than formal temples. A dojo in this context could be a room in someone’s home, or a communal space. A network of temples arose over the generations to oversee the various dojo, but early Shinshu communities started out small and informal.

This remained the state of the community for generations up through the Ikko Ikki rebellion.

The Warrings States Period and the Ikki Rebellions

Fast-forward about 200 years since Shinran and Honen. By this point in Japanese history, the reigning Ashikaga Shoguns have become permanently weakened by the disastrous Onin War, and social order was rapidly breaking down as rival warlords who had nominally supported the Ashikaga family, now fought one another for control of Japan. Technically, the Ashikaga still ruled a small region around Kyoto the capital, but the rest of Japan was rapidly descending into all-out war which lasted for another 100 years: the Sengoku or Warring States period (mid-15th through 17th centuries).3

A mural depicting a battle during the Onin War, by Utagawa Yoshitora, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Japanese society at this time had been a feudal, militaristic society. The various domains and provinces had been managed by the Ashikaga Shogunate through a complex web of grants, appointments, and negotiations. Much like medieval society in Europe, the feudal order of Japan was complicated and full of political tension between the Church (i.e. the old Buddhist orders), local land-owning warlords, and peasants who were compelled to work the land in various arrangements. Similar to medieval England at the time, peasants were not all one social class. Many were modestly successful like the English yeoman, while others were saddled with ancestral debt and had to work the land they rented from their landlords (military or Buddhist temples) like European serfs. Other peasants were part of artisan communities that formed associations that might be vaguely compared to European guilds.

A portrait of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, formerly a peasant soldier, now the overlord of Japan and regent of the Emperor in 1598. Painting by Kanō Mitsunobu (狩野 光信, 1565–1608), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Further, the distinction between samurai and peasant wasn’t so clear-cut as it would be in later generations. A low-ranking, provincial samurai or jizamurai (地侍) worked the land and sold goods just as peasants did, though they also had certain obligations to their liege lord, and enjoyed patronage and influence as a result. Even the famous Hojo no Yoshitoki worked his own land (at least some of the time).

Meanwhile, wealthy and powerful land-holding peasants could command local military resources when the needs for mutual defense arose, or lend them to the local warlord if needed, in return for some arrangement. Such peasant soldiers were often called up by local samurai as ashigaru (足軽) foot soldiers. Even the great Toyotomi Hideyoshi once started this way before eventually claiming dominion over all of Japan.

So, while there were social classes, they were fluid, and the boundaries were vague. A low-level jizamurai and a powerful peasant weren’t all that different. In the end, it was a “might makes right” environment.

Thus, in this fast, fluid and shifting environment, communities or like-minded people would form an ikki (一揆), which was a society founded for one single purpose. According to Dr Tsang, ikki were often formed in a ceremony where the participants would gather at a religious site, sign a contract vowing to accomplish their stated aim, burn the contract, mix the ashes into water, and drink it together. The pact was thus sealed in the most solemn of manners.

But why form a society like this?

Local samurai, especially if they had familial ties, might found an ikki promising one another mutual aid and defense. Peasants of a village might form an ikki to push the government for tax relief. An ikki formed in 1428 was large enough to march on Kyoto and burned down debt owners and tax-collecting tolls, for example.

The Ikko ikki (一向一揆) specifically were formed by those who subscribed to the Jodo Shinshu sect, which was also called the Ikkō (一向) sect at the time. The term ikkō referred to their singular reliance on Amida Buddha (lit. all facing one direction: toward Amida and the Pure Land). Ostensibly these followers formed an ikki for mutual defense but soon grew to challenge the most powerful warlords of the era.

With the rise of Shinran’s descendant Rennyo, the ragtag societies grew into a powerful army that even warlords like Oda Nobunaga were unable to defeat. We’ll see more of this in part two.

Stay tuned!

P.S. These longer historical posts take some time to write (let alone proofread), so I may be delayed in posted part two.

1 The rise of the opposing Nichiren sect is an interesting aspect of Japanese-Buddhist history, but it’s out of scope here, and was somewhat smaller in scale. Dr Tsang’s book does point out that there were Nichiren Ikki groups, too, in later ages.

2 Socrates left behind no writing (unlike Honen who was a prolific writer), but his disciples such as Plato and Xenophon described

3 The “sengoku” name was borrowed from a much earlier, though equally fascinating, period of Chinese history. The Warring States Period of Chinese history should not be underestimated in terms of influence too, because many strands of Chinese political philosophy arise from this period, as various thinkers tried to grapple with the collapse of social order, and the debauchery and degradation of the times. These same ideas later had a profound influence on later Asian culture, and the world at large.

A Look At The Meiji Restoration of 1868

As a history nerd, I’ve spent a lot of time blogging about old Japanese history, but I wanted to talk about an oft-ignored yet fascinating period in Japanese history: the Meiji Restoration of 1868. This is called the meiji-ishin in Japanese (明治維新).

Promulgation of the New Japanese Constitution by the Emperor of Japan, photo by Unknown authorUnknown author and signedThe Graphic, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

I was thinking about this lately while enjoying the excellent historical podcast Grey History, covering the French Revolution. The French Revolution of 1789 was a violent upheaval, with many unexpected twists and turns, of the old social order, but in the end led to the modern French republic we know today.

In some ways, the Meiji Restoration had similarities to the French Revolution, but also stark differences. Both were started by widespread dissatisfaction with a static, old order, both led to revolutionary changes that overthrew the old order and modernization of a feudal nation, but they had different conditions and led to different outcomes.

I am no expert on French history, but let me at least cover a bit of background on pre-Meiji history of Japan before the Restoration.

The Edo Period

After a century of warfare that tore Japan apart, the conflict finally ended under a single warlord: Tokugawa Ieyasu (德川家康, 1543 – 1616). Japan was unified around the year 1600, and the new Shogun established a new regime, a bakufu (幕府), based in the town of Edo (江戸). Edo eventually became Tokyo later, but at the time it was a provincial castle town.

Ieyasu wasn’t the first to unite Japan, but he made unification stick because he developed a better, more effective administration. Rival warlords were reduced to fiefdoms with only one castle each, and required to abide in Edo every other year. To avoid succession issues, Ieyasu created three cadet branch families (the gosanké 御三家) to provide heirs as a backup, in order of seniority:

  1. Owari (尾張)
  2. Kii (紀伊)
  3. Mito (水戸)

In addition to suppressing and regulating the warlords, politically powerful Buddhist temple complexes were brought to heel and regulated, while everyone in Japan was ordered to register with one temple or another. This helped the Tokugawa Bakufu to regulate temples, and keep an eye on followers by extension.

Outsiders were locked out of Japan (sakoku 鎖国) except for some very limited contact with the Dutch, and only at one port (Deshima) and only once a year. Every one else, especially Christian missionaries were banned from entry upon pain of death.

And finally, society itself. Using Confucian principles, most of society was organized into four general castes (士農工商, shinōkōshō):

  • Samurai – both as administrators and warriors
  • Peasants
  • Artisans
  • Merchants

Of note, the ancient aristocracy of the Fujiwara family, and the Emperor were above this hierarchy, but also sidelined by military government to be pure figureheads. It was a repressive military government by any definition, but it also kept Japan from tearing itself apart for 260+ years.

The problem is that it didn’t adapt to changing conditions.

Over two centuries worth of critical changes happened, both within Japan and outside, that made the regime increasingly unstable.

First, despite the caste system, real wealth and power gradually changed hands. The samurai class, despite being at the top of the hierarchy, were locked into the same pay structure for two centuries, while the merchant class in Japan profited off the stability and economic prosperity. Many samurai families spiraled into debt, and unable to increase their income because their families were doing the same hereditary roles they had generations earlier. Some low-ranking samurai worked menial jobs on the side just to survive, including peasant work.

Second, while Japan was stable, and isolated from Western colonial powers, those same colonial powers grew from being ragtag explorers to powerful maritime empires in two centuries. Science and technology rapidly developed, while Japan fell further and further behind. While some scholars in Japan imported such learnings through Dutch-imported books (rangaku, 蘭学), it wasn’t nearly enough to keep up.

The Tokugawa system prioritized stability, and it succeeded, but the price was centuries of enforced isolation and stagnation.

The Fall of the Tokugawa Bakufu

The last Shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu, abdicating his role at Nijo castle in 1867. You can see a really cool recreation of this moment at Nijo Castle in Kyoto. I highly recommend visiting. Photo by 邨田丹陵, Tanryō Murata, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The downfall of the Tokugawa bakufu, to quote Hemingway, came slowly, then suddenly.

Due to prolonged economic depression, followed by encroachment by increasingly assertive Western powers, as well as old rivarlies from centuries before, the Tokugawa grip on power rapidly weakened. The infamous “black ships” of US Commodore Perry who strode nearly unchallenged by Shogunate forces, and demanded treaty rights in 1854 proved damaged the Tokugawa Shogunate’s reputation among rival warlords.

Before long, domains in western Japan such as Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa were sharpening their knives and working to overthrow the Shogunate. They wanted to accomplish two things:

  1. Restore the Emperor back to power after being sidelined by the Tokugawa Shoguns for centuries.
  2. Expel the foreigners who were increasingly encroaching on Japan.

This final period of Tokugawa history, the so-called Bakumatsu Period (幕末, “end of the Bakufu) is pretty fascinating, but complicated, and too much to go into here. Suffice to say, the Tokugawa forces were unable to contain unrest, and eventually civil war broke out between the Tokugawa and the enemy fiefdoms. The war was swift and Tokugawa forces fought bravely, but ultimately failed. The last Shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu wanted to end further bloodshed and abdicated, allowing the rebel forces to take control.

From here, the young Emperor Meiji was escorted to the new capitol of Tokyo (東京, lit. “Eastern Capital”) and a new era began which we now call the Meiji Era.

How the Meiji Era Unfolded

Compared to the isolated Edo Period, the Meiji Period was very different. The new oligarchs of the Meiji regime, those former warlords of Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa fiefdoms, recognized that against Western powers, the Japanese military had no chance. They were just too far behind technologically. So, they dropped the “expel the foreigners” slogan and adopted a new one: strengthen the nation.

This led to an intense, rapid Westernization of the country. The old feudal order was abolished, and old samurai were compelled to give up their titles and swords. Most did this eagerly, because it allowed them the freedom to invest in modern businesses and get lucrative positions in the new government. Some did not. The old fiefdoms were reorganized into “prefectures” along the French model, and the army was reorganized into a modern military. Japan adopted a constitution based on the Prussian model, which had a strong, central monarchy. Problems with this constitution arose decades later,1 but this was the first constitution that Japan ever had.

Like monarchies in the West, Japan was now a modern, constitutional monarchy, and sought to renegotiate trade arrangements on equal terms. In this respect, Japan was successful.

The Meiji Consitution, written using old-style Chinese characters and katakana script, a common practice in the Meiji period. Photo by Kantei, CC BY 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

In addition to changes in government, the entire country went through a rapid modernization. Western technology such as railroads, telegraphs, and steam technology proliferated the country. Modern, forward-thinking Japanese chose to adopt Western dress and actively sought to learn English (Dutch was no longer a prestige language).

In the same way, Western words were actively adopted into Japanese and are now standard vocabulary now. For example:

  • Arubaito (アルバイト) – From German “arbeit” to work. Means a part-time job. Shortened to baito in modern slang (バイト).
  • Zubon (ズボン) – from French jabon (pants). Also means pants, especially slacks, in Japanese.
  • Kōhī (コーヒー) – from Dutch/Flemish koffie. Means coffee, obviously.2
  • Gasorin (ガソリン) – from English “gasoline”.

Speaking of words written in katakana script, the Meiji Period also shows an unusual trend in writing everything in katakana. The Constitution shown above is a mix of katakana script and older-style kanji. You can see similar patterns in books fo the time, or even signs, such as this sign found at the Great Buddha of Kamakura:

Notice the archaic English too, heavily borrowing Christian-style vocabulary to unfamiliar visitors.

Finally, a lot of old traditional Japanese practices were frowned upon at this time as Japan sought to project an image of modernity and Western-style culture.

How Does This Relate to the French Revolution?

I realize that comparing two different historical events a century apart, across two very different cultures is a tricky subject, but it is worth noting a few things.

First, the old order in both societies was based on a backward, feudal system with a hierarchical social structure. The French, similar to other European states, had the Three Estates of the Ancien Régime, and Japan had the four social orders of Shinōkōshō.

Both societies experienced widespread frustration at regime, not just by poor peasants, but also by middle-class intellectuals, and powerful declarations to modernize the country along enlightened principles. In France, you can see examples of this in the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen by men such as Marquis de Lafayette and Abbé Sieyès, and in the case of Japan great writers such as Sakamoto Ryoma and Fukuzawa Yukichi. Ryoma in particular was inspired by the United States Declaration of Independence.3

Both changes ushered in a rapid era of modernization as well as a violent but doomed conservative reaction, and both introduced constitutions to countries that didn’t have them previously, as well as a more heightened awareness of national identity that didn’t exist previously.

But there are also big differences. The French Revolution was, among other reasons, driven by primarily internal challenges (starvation, taxation, etc), while the Meiji Restoration was due in part as an effort to protect Japan from foreign aggression in addition to internal issues. The French Revolution faced no such external threat until at least a year or two after it unfolded.

Finally, another interesting contrast is that France increasingly diminished the power of the sovereign (Louis XVI), while in Japan, the sovereign (Emperor Meiji) started with little power during the Edo Period but had his power restored by loyalists. France became a Republic, but Japan is a constitutional Monarchy.

This is a really quick overview, but it’s fascinating how these two events in history overlap and also differ.

1 Basically, the army answered to the Emperor, not to the civilian government. This worked well enough until the army decided to do what it wanted in mainland Asia, with no civilian oversight.

2 When I first met remember my in-laws, I remember trying to explain (in my poor Japanese at the time) that coffee was correct pronounced “Kah-fee”, not “koh-hee” as in Japanese. Thinking back, I didn’t realize that the Japanese word descended, not from English, but from Dutch. I always kind of felt bad about that.

3 A century later, after Vietnam became independent from French colonial power in 1945, Ho Chi Minh famously read aloud the Declaration of Independence of Vietnam, but observers at the time noted its similarities to the US Declaration. Similarly, French Revolutionaries often drew inspiration from the American Revolution as well. As an American, it’s sometimes easy forget what a significant moment in history the American Revolution was, and its message of revolution and Enlightenment thinking at a time of backwards, feudal thinking…. or reactionary thinking in the modern era.

The Trials and Tribulations of Athenian Democracy

The Parthenon of Athens, a tall crumbling stone building with many columns.

Something I’ve been thinking about lately. A lot. Nothing lasts forever and, to paraphrase the Buddha-Dharma, all phenomena are fluid and subject to change. So it is with political systems.

With things as they are now, it’s hard to know how things will turn out 5, 10 or even 50 years from now. However, I find it help to look to the past, and draw lessons and patterns from those.

Enter the city-state of Athens in the 7th century BCE.

Ancient Greece, that is to say Greek history before the Hellenistic Period and Roman times, was a loose patchwork of city-states called polis (Πόλις). Each polis was its own government, raised its own army, and so on. There was no concept of Greek nationalism at this time. They shared a culture and language, they had overlapping religious cults to teh same deities, but not a single “nation” we call Greece today.

Sometimes, powerful polis would absorb small villages around them as part of the polis, but it was still one city, one government. Often times, especially as history progressed, groups of polis would form “leagues” called Koinon (Κοινὸν) for mutual defense, trade and so on. But again, no single nation.

Why do I mention this?

Each polis formed its own government system. Each polis had its own notion of citizenship (i.e. who was a citizen and who wasn’t). Sparta had a diarchy (two kings), plus a complicated system of checks and balances, and a very limited sense of citizenship at the expense of its huge helot slave underclass. Sparta sucked.

As the excellent video below explains, Athens by contrast started out as an oligarchy: a group of affluent families running affairs. However, gradually Athens migrated more and more toward full democracy, expanding citizenship (somewhat) and so on.

I highly recommend the video if you can. It’s an fun, excellent summary of 200 years of Athenian history. What’s really important to understand, I think, is that democracy didn’t spring into existence overnight, and it didn’t start in a perfect form. When the oligarchy was reformed, a man named Solon (Σόλων; c. 630 – c. 560 BC) developed a limited democratic system, which worked well enough until a populist-tyrant named Peisistratus (Πεισίστρατος, c. 600 BC – 527 BC) seized power. “Tyrant”, or tyrannos (τύραννος) in ancient Greek had a slightly different connotation than modern English. A Greek-style tyrant was more simply a dictator or autocrat: not inherently cruel or evil, but did hold absolute power.

Peisistratus, ironically, had a lot of popular support from the masses, and after overthrowing the nascent democratic system, he worked to further curtail the influence of the oligarchs who hadn’t fully relinquished power and influence under Solon’s reforms, plus agricultural and economic reforms. Sounds good at first, but people quickly grew sick of his autocratic behavior, and exiled him. Twice. Peisistratus turned a third time at the head of an army and took over Athens one last time, before we eventually died and his authority passed to his son.

Eventually, his son was kicked out for good, and Democracy returned to Athens under Cleisthenes (Κλεισθένης, c. 570 – c. 508 BC). Cleisthenes had enough sense to not return to the old democratic system, which had been somewhat fragile, and prone to abuse by powerful people. Instead, he reformed the voting districts entirely into new, artificial tribes, each with their own voting districts or demes. He also instituted the system of ostracism to help Athens get rid of bad actors more easily, before it was too late. The rights of citizens were also clarified, and extended to villages within Athens’s sphere for the first time.

Cleisthenes built upon Solon’s earlier work by further reforming the Athenian democratic system, and making it more robust and fair.

This persisted until the 5th century BCE when a brief coup in 411, followed by an imposed government by conquering Sparta, the Thirty Tyrants, in 408 again interrupted the democratic system. However, democracy once again bounced back, made further incremental reforms under Ephialtes (Ἐφιάλτης, d. 461 BC), and persisted until 307 BCE under the domination of the Macedonians. Athens by this point, as a city-state, was simply too small to stand up to empires such as Macedon, followed by Rome. The system continued to exist, but it did not manage anything significant beyond its city borders, until it finally become a simple province under the Eastern Romans (i.e. the Byzantines).

But what I find fascinating is that after every setback Athens always bounced back and reformed its democratic system more and more to avoid internal strife and disruption. They learned from the past, avoided a repeat of the same mistakes, and made their system more robust in the process. Athens isn’t the only country to do this. After the French Revolution of 1789, France has had 5 republics. Each time, they get encounter strife due to a problem in the system, they bounce back, make a new republic, new constitution, and so on. Some republican systems were more successful than others (the Fourth Republic only lasted 12 years), but even in failure there’s lessons to be learned.

So, when I find myself worrying about current events, I try to take solace in that other societies have experienced similar tribulations, but oftentimes the problems are comparatively short-lived, and help spur reforms to the political system that help avoid similar issues in the future, thus revitalizing democracy.

Hubris

“…tin-plated, overbearing, swaggering dictator with delusions of godhood.”

Scotty, “Trouble with Troubles” (s2ep15), Stardate: 4523.3

Thinking of the story of Taira no Kiyomori, among other things today.