Page 27 - JAPAN THE SHAPING OFDAIMYO CULTURE 1185-1868

newer versions of Buddhism to the provinces and to the common peo-
ple. Like Zen, and at about the same time, Pure Land Buddhism devel-
oped into an independent and enormously popular school: its simple
teaching that faith in Amida (expressed by repetition of the formula
"Praise to Amida Buddha") appealed to warriors as well as farmers. For
warriors, who were constantly faced with the likelihood of sudden death,
the compassionate promise of salvation by a simple expression of devo-
tion to Amida had a profound attraction. Many warriors retained a devo-
tion to such Esoteric Buddhist deities as the fierce Fudó Myóó. Warriors
could, and did, patronize Zen and Pure Land, or Zen and esoteric Bud-
dhism together. In addition, most warrior houses had ancestral founding
deities they worshipped as kami. They set up shrines to ancestral or
protective kami. The syncretic Shinto-Buddhist deity Hachiman, for in-
stance, was venerated by many warriors, especially the Minamoto, ac-
quiring over time the role of a god of war. The most important shrine in
Kamakura, the center of Minamoto power and site of the bakufu, was
dedicated to Hachiman and there were many local shrines in his honor
patronized by warrior families.
In later centuries, the range of daimyo culture widened consider-
ably. Even so, it is fair to suggest that by the close of the Kamakura
period the basic paradigm had been established in terms of a tension
between bu and bun. The ideal warrior was, by the close of the Kama-
kura period, neither the rough, ruthless Saburô nor the courtly Jiro of the
Obusuma Saburô scroll. He was, rather, a composite of these and more.
The ideal type would perhaps be closer to Minamoto Yorimasa as de-
picted in the Tale of the Heike, where Yorimasa urges Prince Mochihito
to raise a revolt against the Taira in 1180. When the revolt is crushed he
takes his own life with all the unflinching bravery expected of a warrior,
after composing a verse that would have done credit to a courtier:

Yorimasa summoned Watanabe Chojitsu Tonau and ordered: Strike off my head.
Tonau could not bring himself to do this while his master was still alive. He wept
bitterly. How can I do that, my lord? he replied. I can do so only after you have
committed suicide. I understand, said Yorimasa. He turned to the West, joined his
palms, and chanted Hail Amida Buddha ten times in a loud voice. Then he com-
posed this poem:
Like a fossil tree
Which has borne not one blossom
Sad has been my life
Sadder still to end my days
Leaving no fruit behind me.
Having spoken these lines, he thrust the point of his sword into his belly, bowed his
face to the ground as the blade pierced him through, and died. No ordinary man
could compose a poem at such a moment. For Yorimasa, however, the writing of
poems had been a constant pleasure since his youth. And so, even at the moment of
death, he did not forget. Tonau took up his master's head and, weeping, fastened it
to a stone. Then evading the enemy, he made his way to the river and sank it in a
deep place (Kitagawa and Tsuchida 1975, vol. i, 271).

Obviously, not all warriors could demonstrate such valor or such
facility in verse. But there were many who by the close of the Kamakura
period aspired to such standards, and others who added to them a grow-
ing familiarity with Zen and other forms of Buddhism and with the arts
and culture of China. This blending of bu and bun in the warrior ideal of
the thirteenth century did not end there. It provided a model for the
samurai elite in later centuries: ruthless in warfare, ready to die for
honor, adept in administration and practical affairs but able and eager, in
times of peace, to enjoy literary and cultural pursuits.

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