Sujung Kim, Shinra Myōjin and Buddhist Networks of the East Asian “Mediterranean.” 2019. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press. xii + 181 pages. ISBN 978-0-82487-799-6.

Shinra Myōjin, literally “deity of the Silla Kingdom,” is the protector deity of Onjōji (also known as Miidera), the head temple of the Jimon branch of the Tendai school. The statue of this deity preserved at his shrine within Onjōji depicts him as an old man wearing Chinese style robes and a triangular cap, and his somewhat grotesque appearance has piqued the curiosity of many people interested in Japanese religious art. According to legend, when Enchin (814–891), the fifth abbot of the Tendai school who is closely associated with Onjōji, was returning from China, where he had spent five years studying esoteric Buddhism, the ship on which he was sailing was beset by a fierce storm. Enchin began to pray to the gods when suddenly an old man appeared among the waves, declaring himself to be Shinra Myōjin and promising to protect the travelers. After he returned safely to Japan, the grateful Enchin enshrined Shinra Myōjin on the grounds of Onjōji. Subsequently, this deity came to be revered as Onjōji’s “landlord deity” (jinushigami), worshipped as the protector of this temple and the Jimon branch as a whole. But as fascinating as Shinra Myōjin may be, Sujung Kim’s intriguing study is not limited to this deity alone. Rather, she takes this figure as the starting point from which to explore the various economic, political, cultural and religious networks and discourses in which this deity was imbedded.

The book is divided into three parts. In Part I, entitled “Maritime East Asia: Networks of Immigrants and Silla Shrines/Temples,” Kim takes up one of the most intriguing issues surrounding Shinra Myōjin: “Why did a deity whose name clearly refers to the Korean kingdom of Silla became the protector deity of a Japanese Buddhist sect?” (pp. 1–2). The answer to this question lies in the notion of the “East Asian Mediterranean” (a term coined by Angela Schottenhammer [see 2008] drawing on the theories found in Ferdinand Braudel’s classic The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Philip II), which refers to the thriving maritime economic and cultural network connecting the coastal regions of Japan, Korea and China. Silla merchants played a leading role in this network, and communities of Korean immigrants were established in Chinese ports to facilitate the seaborne trade. But trade goods were not the only things that passed through this maritime network: people and ideas were channeled through them as well. It served, for example, as the conduit through which the three major waves of Korean immigrants traveled to Japan, the first from the late 4th to early 5th centuries, the second during the latter half of the 5th century and the third in the late 7th century (p. 33). For the purposes of this study, it is crucial to note that the province of Ōmi, in which Onjōji is located, was one of the major centers of Korean immigrants in Japan. The existence of such large immigrant communities ensured the ready acceptance of Shinra Myōjin, who himself was a product of the East Asian “Mediterranean.” Kim concludes this section by pointing out the following:

In short, the emergence of Shinra Myōjin’s cult can be fully understood when viewed within the context of the East Asian Mediterranean Buddhist network, in which merchants, immigrants, and Buddhist monks all played a prominent role in the exchange of cultic practices … Whether they intended it or not, their new religious culture created something that had not existed previously, exemplified by Shinra Myōjin and other immigrant deities.

pp. 40–41

Part II, “Sedentarization: Networks of Silla Deities and Shinra Myōjin,” examines how Shinra Myōjin, originally a protective deity of seafaring people, was institutionalized as the “landlord deity” of the Jimon branch of the Tendai school (p. 45). The key to understanding this process lies in the long-standing factional struggle between the Sanmon and Jimon branches of this school. The former traced itself back to Ennin (794–864), the third Tendai abbot, while the latter revered Enchin as its founder. Their struggle for hegemony within the Tendai school culminated in 993 in a violent brawl between armed monks of the two branches, in which Sanmon monks drove Jimon monks off Mt. Hiei, the center of the Tendai school, forcing them to retreat to their stronghold in Onjōji. As a result, the Tendai school was permanently divided into the Jimon and Sanmon branches. But even after the split, the rivalry between the two branches persisted, resulting in Onjōji being repeatedly burned by Sanmon monks.

During these difficult times, Shinra Myōjin played a major role in forging the institutional identity of the Jimon branch. Religious ceremonies centered on this deity were created, and in time, Shinra Myōjin even became the patron of waka composition by Jimon monks. But it is noteworthy that the popular image of Shinra Myōjin was constructed through “a deliberate appropriation” (p. 48) of Sekizan Myōjin, a deity closely tied to Ennin and the Sanmon branch. Although the iconography of these two deities is quite different, the legend attributed to them is virtually identical. As in the case of Enchin, Ennin first encountered Sekizan Myōjin when the ship on which he was returning to Japan from Tang China ran into a storm. When Ennin prayed for help, Sekizan Myōjin appeared and promised to lead the ship safely to Japan. As a result, Ennin later constructed the Sekizan Zen’in at the western foot of Mt. Hiei in honor of this deity. Hence, like Shinra Myōjin, Sekizan Myōjin was an ocean god of the East Asian Mediterranean, but Kim argues that Jimon followers “appropriated and further popularized the cult of the Silla deity through the creation of various Shinra Myōjin legends, rituals, and iconography. By building up Shinra Myōjin in this way, the Jimon was able to gain legitimacy as a new center of Tendai learning and power … the deity was the unifying force that allowed this to happen” (p. 49). Kim’s point here—that the Jimon branch sought to legitimate itself by relying on a deity that is a mirror image of its rival Sanmon deity—is extremely suggestive.

Part III, “Restoring Fluidity: Functional and Symbolic Networks of the Silla Deities,” explores the ways in which the popular image of Shinra Myōjin was expanded and enriched by being associated with other deities. One such deity was the star deity Sonjōō (literally “monarch of the revered star”), an important figure in the Jimon esoteric Buddhist pantheon, who came to be seen as a manifestation of Shinra Myōjin. In this section, Kim also makes some trenchant comments about the unique iconography of Shinra Myōjin who, as noted above, is depicted as an old man. She notes that this deity was identified as a “trace” (suijaku) of Manjuśrī, the bodhisattva of wisdom who was widely believed to reside on Mt. Wutai in China and who was also important for Japanese Tendai Buddhism as well. Among the paintings of Manjuśrī created in Japan, many were in the form of a Manjuśrī Pentad: Manjuśrī surrounded by four acolytes. Significantly, Shinra Myōjin bears a close resemblance to Taishō Rōnin, one of Manjuśrī’s four acolytes who is also shown as an aged figure. Kim comments that the visual affinity between Shinra Myōjin and Taishō Rōnin resulted from Onjōji’s wish to appropriate Manjuśrī into the cult of the Shinra Myōjin.

In addition, Kim shows that Shinra Myōjin’s elderly visage must be understood in the context of the shared tradition found throughout East Asia of depicting deities in the form of old men. Daoist immortals, for example were often depicted as sage old men, and the folklorist Yanagita Kunio suggested that most Japanese kami have their origin in the form of okina (old man). Since the old man-god tradition developed and thrived in Ōmi province where the Onjōji was located, it was natural for Shinra Myōjin to be shown in this form. Moreover, Kim also points out that landlord deities frequently take the form of old men since it visually underscores the notion that “they have been residing in the particular place in question for eternity” (p. 110).

Also fascinating is the account of how Shinra Myōjin came to be perceived as a god of pestilence and the various ramifications this had for grafting layers of meaning to the figure of this deity. The medieval Japanese saw Silla, being the closest part of continental Asia to Japan, as both the source of epidemics and of the Mongol invasions of 1272 and 1281, intensifying the image of the Korean peninsula as a hostile place and source of danger. In Kim’s view, this lead to a situation in which “Silla was imagined as a space where desire and fear intersected: desire to conquer and fear of being contaminated” (p. 95). Under such circumstances, purification rites came to be addressed to Shinra Myōjin who, being a deity from the land of pestilence, was presumed to have the power both to cause and expel diseases.

Yet, at the same time, the Mongol invasions also fostered the notion of Japan as a divine land protected by the kami, compelling Jimon monks to rationalize why a deity from Silla was worshipped at their temple. Their solution, found in the Onjōji denki, was to argue that “Shinra Myōjin became a king of Silla in order to wield Japanese power all over the world” (p. 90)—in other words, that Shinra Myōjin was actually a Japanese deity that manifested himself in Silla in order to conquer it. In this connection, it is interesting to note that this narrative allowed Shinra Myōjin to be equated with Susanoo no Mikoto of Japanese mythology, who is described in the Nihon Shoki as having gone to Silla after being expelled from the Plain of High Heaven (Takama-ga-hara). Hence, by being identified as a god of pestilence, Shinra Myōjin acquired a whole new set of religious associations that he did not originally possess.

As this study shows, Shinra Myōjin is an extremely complex and enigmatic figure. By placing this deity in the context of the various, often overlapping, economic, political and cultural networks, Kim has succeeded in providing us with both a rich and nuanced view of the various roles played by Shinra Myōjin and new insights into the ways in which the religious imagination functioned in medieval Japan. It is without doubt an exciting new addition to the scholarly literature on Japanese religions.