The First Samurai
Among the samurai, there were none like the first, Taira Masakado, whose premature rebellion brought the imperial court to its knees
Hareth Al Bustani brings us the fascinating tale of Taira Masakado, the insurgent leader who gave birth to the era of the Samurai
A shadow emerges from the flames atop a horse. Digging his feet into the stirrups, he burns like a crazed dragon, over the corpses of his enemies and their houses. Before long, all of Japan will know the name of Taira Masakado, the greatest warrior in the realm, a
New Emperor for a new era. And all of this could have been avoided.
Masakado was born in 903 CE, a great-grandson of Emperor Kammu, and a member of the powerful Taira clan. To ease the royal coffers, his grandfather, Prince Takamochi, renounced his royal lineage and settled in the eastern Kantō plain – the fertile lowland surrounding modern Tokyo – where his sons rapidly became powerful landowners. While the state had once held a monopoly on land, now most was privately owned – by temples, shrines, individuals and local clans.
Due to high imperial taxes, most peasants preferred to work for private landowners – who, with property disputes on the rise, armed them with spears and taught them archery, hunting and horse riding. Among the new class of private landowners were absent noblemen, living the high life in the capital of Heian, or modern Kyoto, retired governors who had settled in their former postings, and local clans with historic roots to their land. To make up for a lack of soft power, clans trained their peasants with exceptional bravado, promising to protect them at all costs, in return for absolute loyalty.
Before the samurai code of bushido – the way of the warrior – Japan referred to warfare as kyuba no michi, ‘the way of the horse and bow’ or kyusen no michi, ‘the way of the bow and arrow’. Armies were centred around a core of mounted archers, drawn from prominent families, who maintained their own horses and equipment. They wore scaled armour, and though they carried swords, hand-tohand combat was reserved for the peasants, armed with spears and shields. Local clan leaders could boast up to 500 peasants, giving special privileges to blood relatives and those whose families had served for generations. Before long, the country’s mass of soldiers was concentrated in the hands of distant landowners, rather than the emperor.
Despite this changing order, Masakado was raised to appreciate the prestige of imperial life. Boasting an honourable lineage, he spent his youth in the capital, a guard at the emperor’s private residence, and even serving the future imperial reagent, Fujiwara Tadahira – a man of great standing. However, in spite of his immense
promise, the young man failed to secure a post of esteem. Eager to take destiny into his own hands, in 931 he decided to return to his homeland of Kantō – which had become a snake pit in his absence. With his father recently deceased, his uncles were keen to secure his land for themselves. Things came to a head when Masakado married his cousin against her father, Yoshikane’s, wishes.
Sensing an opportunity, the powerful local landlord, Minamoto Mamoru, who had marriage ties to all of Masakado’s uncles, sent his three sons to ambush him in the province of Hitachi in 935. Despite the element of surprise, they not only lost the battle, but their lives. Enraged by this unprovoked attack, Masakado rampaged across their lands, burning down their residences and the houses of hundreds of their supporters. Among the battle-dead was another of Masakado’s powerful Taira uncles, Kunika. Though his death prompted his son, Sadamori, to return home from the capital, he lamented “Masakado is not my original foe”. Sadamori had always been fond of his cousin – as fellow courtiers, they shared similar ambitions, and he had hoped to avoid conflict with him at all costs; perhaps even to ally with him.
In June 936, still bearing a grudge against his nephew, Yoshikane marched an army
“as numerous as the clouds” to a fort in the southeastern district of Kazusa, linking up with his brother Yoshimasa. Senior clan leaders, they coerced Sadamori into joining their cause, leading a fresh-faced army of thousands, all clad in brand new armour and equipment, atop well-fed horses to Hitachi. There, Masakado lay in wait with a few hundred, poorly-equipped mounted soldiers and the 1,000-odd peasants he was able to muster. Against all odds, Masakado routed the attackers, chasing Yoshikane to the provincial government headquarters in Shimotsuke. However, keen to avoid the scandal of killing a family member, he let his uncle go unscathed – instead reporting the unprovoked attack to the imperial government and his neighbours.
Months later, Masakado was summoned to the court, where he was handed a light punishment for arson – before being pardoned as a part of a general amnesty on New Year’s Day in 937, when Emperor Suzaku came of age. Although he disavowed the life of war, no sooner had he returned home, the bitter Yoshikane launched another attack at the River Kogai. During the battle, he had his army raise images of Masakado’s father and grandfather, supposedly to seek their protection, but most likely to deter his enemy from firing arrows at his men. Having beaten Masakado, who was rendered immobile by sudden illness, he defeated him again at Toyota. Shell-shocked,
Masakado and his family sought shelter among sympathetic clan members – but a traitor helped Yoshikane capture his wife and children.
Licking his wounds, after years of unprovoked assaults, Masakado had finally run out of patience. Raising an army, he marched on Hitachi, burning his uncle’s residence to the ground, along with hundreds of his supporters’ houses. He chased Yoshikane into the mountains, destroying his crops along the way. Desperate, Yoshikane again bribed one of Masakado’s men into betraying where his nephew slept and led a group of 80 warriors “each worth a thousand”, to his camp. However, his nemesis was waiting for him, “with flaming eyes and clenched teeth”. After a brief, explosive charge, half of Yoshikane’s men lay dead. Broken, the Taira kingpin faded into obscurity, dying a few years later.
Although his troubles were far from over, Masakado had begun to develop something of a Robin Hood persona. When the controversial Prince Okiyo found himself at odds with the governor of Musahi, Masakado offered him shelter. Simultaneously, a local landowner, Fujiwara Haruaki, had developed a reputation for dodging his taxes – a man who official records said “behaved worse than barbarians or beasts”. When the vice-governor put out a warrant for his arrest, Haruaki romped across Hitachi and Shimosa, robbing official granaries. As the region’s constable, Masakado was ordered to arrest him, but instead offered him protection – claiming it his duty to protect the weak against the strong.
By June 939, Masakado’s anti-authoritarian exploits had earned him an army of 1,000 mounted warriors, disenchanted with the established hierarchy. After defeating a large government army three times the size of his, Masakado seized the government’s headquarters in Hitachi, before taking the provincial capital of Shimotsuke; along with its provincial seals and keys. Finally, after years of provocation, Masakado had broken out into full-blown rebellion. When Prince Okiyo pointed out that the punishment was equal whether he revolted in eight provinces or one, Masakado marched across Kantō – securing the entire region and appointing his own governors.
After supposedly consulting an oracle from Hachiman – the patron deity of war – Masakado did the unthinkable, declaring himself the ‘New Emperor’. While his own brother admonished him for “acting without discretion” against the Mandate of Heaven, Masakado proclaimed,
“Our age dictates that those who are victorious become rulers,” before spitting, “your counsels are absolutely meaningless.”
In January 940, he wrote to his former mentor, the regent Tadahira, justifying his actions, and claiming that his ambition lay only in Kantō. However, the court was understandably wary. During Masakado’s uprising, further north, the previously ‘pacified’ Emishi people had broken out in revolt – destroying settlers’ property. Simultaneously, an even greater rebellion had broken out west, under the leadership of the ‘Pirate
King’ Fujiwara
Sumitomo. Formerly the governor of Iyo, on the southern island of Shikoku,
Sumitomo had amassed a fleet of fishermen and petty seamen, and begun raiding the
Inland Sea. Though the government offered him a senior post, he was not so easily appeased – instead capturing the vice-governor of Settsu, cutting off his ears, slitting his nose, murdering his son and taking his wife captive.
Terrified that the two had formed a secret, unholy alliance, the Heian court issued an edict demanding the eastern governors capture Masakado, with rewards of land and positions up for grabs, adding: “Since creation, this court has seen many rebellions, but none that compare to this.” Highlighting its desperation, it held elaborate services and prayers, and ordered rituals be committed across the country by the mystic cults – to destroy Masakado through black magic.
At this juncture, as the country’s greatest tsuwamono, or warrior, Masakado had amassed an army of 5,000 – joined by family members, landowners and those drawn to his martial prowess. In doing so, he had essentially created the first of many bushidan, or warrior bands.
Though the country had known insurrection, Masakado was no distant barbarian – he was of the finest stock, fighting among his own blood. In this dawn of civil war, his followers, and those of his rivals, began to create a new culture, away from the elegance of the Heian court. While warriors like Sadamori still used powdered foetus to treat battle wounds, they also developed new customs; announcing their names with gusto,
before rushing into battle.
Similarly, they introduced the curved swords, lacquered o-yoroi armour worn by commanders, and elaborate antlered helmets that would later become hallmarks of samurai warfare.
Having abandoned conscription, the imperial army had been made irrelevant by the new face of warfare. Instead, the court dealt out promotions, hoping to inspire private soldiers – like Minamoto Tsunemoto, the vice-governor of Musahi, Sadamori and Fujiwara Hidesato, the chief constable of Shimotsuke – to take matters into their own hands. While Sadamori had joined the war reluctantly, after Masakado’s men captured and raped his wife, their hatred was now mutual.
Unfortunately for Masakado, despite his heritage, ability and prestige, he lacked the structural organisation that his spiritual samurai successors would later herald to great success. While he led an army of 5,000 across Hitachi to search for Sadamori, he was dependent on allies, rather than direct retainers. Even among family members, many fought out of self-interest, rather than personal loyalty. So, when Masakado returned home, with winter approaching, so too did his allies – leaving him with an army of just 1,000. After the chief constable Hidesato announced his allegiance with Sadamori, Masakado’s men thoughtlessly launched a pre-emptive attack – only to be driven back in February 940.
The vengeful Sadamori burned down Masakado’s mansion, as well as the homes of his supporters, unleashing chaos in the ranks.
The two sides picked the battleground of Kitayama, in Shimosa for their last showdown. Though both erected walls of wooden shields, to protect them from cavalry charges, a violent gust of wind blew from behind Masakado, throwing his defences forwards, and hurtling Sadamori’s back into his soldiers. With the defences down, the coalition’s Fujiwara and Taira leaders launched a cavalry charge. Undeterred, Masakado hurled himself onto his horse and, with just 400 men, stormed into the enemy with such great ferocity, all but 300 fled. However, at this critical point, the wind turned against the New Emperor – and, as the enemy regrouped, he was hit by a stray arrow – killing him. Sadamori sent a lowly soldier to wrench his head from his body and took it to the capital, along with a certificate. Prince Okiyo was captured and killed just days later.
Meanwhile, the Pirate King Sumitomo, who had lost two chieftains and 2,500 men to bribes, was dealt a crushing blow after a turncoat surrendered to the government and led them to his base. Retreating to Kyushu, he sacked and raided all the way to Hakata, until he was surrounded and killed.
With both rebels dead, the emperor visited the Kamo shrine and prayed for the dead – ally and enemy alike – at Enryakuji monastery on Mount Hiyei, overlooking the capital. Although peace had come, it had come at a high price. The nature of warfare, loyalty and rulership had been dealt a shocking blow – and though the emperor had won, it was not by the power of his state, but that of his provincial allies, and their private armies.
In the centuries to come, the Heian court blossomed into a centre of sophistication. Meanwhile, in the provinces, having cemented a stronger identity and honour code, the samurai would become the masters of Japan’s emerging feudalist system. Though his rebellion was shortlived, Masakado was the harbinger of things to come, the personification of the new order. It was only a matter of time before the emperor lost his power; Masakado was simply 200 years too early.