M.S. Adolphson
abbots of his choosing from among already established temples. Finally, and perhaps most signifi-
cantly, Shirakawa began promoting his own set of rituals as essential to the imperial family,
effectively challenging the three principal rituals under control of the Fujiwara. The latter were
known as Sandai’e (the “Three Lectures,” two of which were held in Nara), for which reason the
new rituals promoted by Shirakawa became known as Hokkyō no Sandai’e (the “Three Lectures
of the Northern Capital”). Eventually, Shirakawa also tried to elevate his own temples, most of
which were located in the relatively unused eastern area of the capital, above those of the Fuji-
wara by calling them “the family temples of the sovereign of the state” (kokuō no ujidera).^36
These dramatic changes did not come about without resistance or challenges. The Northern
Fujiwara leadership did not sit idly by as Shirakawa attempted to expand his power at the expense
of the regental family. In point of fact, Shirakawa was initially unable to impose his will; most of
the initiatives noted above actually started shortly after the (un)timely deaths of two important
Fujiwara leaders in 1099 (Moromichi, 1062–1099) and 1101 (Morozane, 1042–1101). This
opened up the playing field for Shirakawa to promote his initiatives in earnest over the opposi-
tion of the regental branch, which nevertheless continued to exert influence as the second most
powerful family in the capital throughout the twelfth century. But there was other opposition as
well. As Shirakawa promoted monks and Buddhist schools close to himself, specifically Shingon
and the Onjōji branch of Tendai, he also encountered severe resistance from the more established
monasteries. Heading that resistance were Enryakuji and Kōfukuji, though the latter stood to
lose the most in this conflict given its position as the Fujiwara family temple. Reacting to these
sudden and new religious policies, which also tended to affect appointments to established rituals
and to abbotships, the major temples engaged in a new strategy to communicate with the impe-
rial court and its leaders. That strategy is what might best be translated as “divine demonstra-
tions” (gōso, literally “forceful protest”), which consisted of members of monastic and shrine
communities who traveled to the capital bearing kami symbols in order to protest a perceived
wrong afflicted on their temple. Temples such as Enryakuji and Tōdaiji brought kami palanquins
(mikoshi or shin’yo) while the Kōfukuji clergy brought a branch of the holy sakaki tree (shinmoku
or shinboku). These demonstrations became highly successful since the clergy would leave the
holy object in Kyoto if no satisfactory resolution was reached, putting substantial spiritual pres-
sure on the court.^37
The gōso themselves may seem like little more than curious footnotes in a rich history of reli-
gious debates, conflicts, violence, and disputes over land, branches, and abbotships, but they were
a major concern for contemporary nobles, and they are in fact symptomatic of much more
important developments. The factionalism that had originally embroiled the imperial family and
its closest supporters in disputes over succession to the throne in the Nara age had spread signifi-
cantly by the late eleventh century to engage entire noble families, temple- shrine complexes of
tremendous wealth and military stature, as well as military retainers. By the middle of the twelfth
century, a group of military nobles, such as the Ise Taira (or Heike) and the Seiwa Minamoto, had
emerged as powerful elites in their own right. The upper echelon of Japanese society had in other
words become pluralized as a direct result of the ongoing privatization.
What was different about this age, beginning with Shirakawa, was that the imperial family
had now figured out that it could wield more power from behind the throne than while sitting
on it. Shirakawa had resigned in 1086 in favor of his son Horikawa (1079–1107; r. 1086–1107),
in order to control imperial succession, as Go- Sanjō had done before him. When he later had
Horikawa resign in favor of his grandson (Toba, 1103–1156, r. 1107–1123, retired emperor
1129–1156) and then repeated the procedure some years later, Shirakawa had in effect privatized
the imperial family itself. The actual pinnacle of the pyramid was no longer the sovereign—
although his symbolic value was of supreme importance in legitimizing the positions of those