出雲大社と伊勢神宮式システム：千家尊福A Hero Who Confronted the Ise Jingu System

Shinto in Japan tends to be equated with animism, and this perception seems to be increasingly common among many people year after year. Moreover, most Japanese have virtually no understanding of Shinto, and a persistent view that “Shinto is not a religion” still exists. However, historically speaking, even if Shinto wasn’t defined explicitly as a “religion,” it undeniably had religious elements. Particularly since Buddhism’s introduction to Japan in 552, Shinto underwent significant systematization and maturation over a millennium (especially evident in the Heian Period). Examining Shinto from the standpoint of its religious characteristics primarily brings into focus developments from the 6th century onward, but given that diverse forms of faith connected to Shinto existed long before this, no one can fully unravel its mysterious entirety.

Importantly, the explicit emergence of Shinto’s religious characteristics was not a distant historical occurrence, but rather stemmed directly from the religious policies established by Japan’s new government following the Meiji Restoration in 1868. By comprehending the numerous policies and ambitions enacted during this turbulent era—when the new government positioned Shinto as the foundation of national unity under the ideal of “Unity of Worship and Government” (祭政一致)—one can grasp how Shinto’s religious character became entrenched. Understanding this process requires countless insights, but in this article, I’ll focus specifically on one individual who stood against the destructive actions carried out by the bureaucrats of the newly established “Ise Jingu System”, which I’ve touched upon briefly in previous posts on Shitsurae. Without this person, the Shinto faith as it exists today in Japan might never have survived.

If you’ve visited Japan, you probably know that among the countless shrines, the highest-ranking is the Inner Shrine of Ise Jingu (伊勢神宮内宮 / 皇大神宮) in Mie Prefecture, where Amaterasu (天照大御神), the ancestral deity of Japan’s imperial family, is enshrined. Yet, before Amaterasu’s dominance, powerful deities existed throughout ancient Japan. Among these, the most prominent was Okuninushi (大国主神), worshipped at Izumo Taisha (出雲大社) in Shimane Prefecture. Izumo Taisha is famed for legends suggesting its main hall once stood an impressive 96 meters tall—recent research has gradually substantiated these myths, attracting significant attention. The origins of Izumo Taisha’s worship trace back to the deity Ame-no-Hohi (天之菩卑能命), who played a central role in rituals venerating Okuninushi. According to mythology, when Okuninushi was enshrined in his temple, it was Ame-no-Hohi who oversaw the rituals.

From Ame-no-Hohi’s lineage emerged the clan known as the Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko (出雲国造), hereditary governors who ruled over Izumo Province (出雲国). This clan carried on the hereditary priesthood across generations. However, during the 14th century, the clan split into two branches, the Senge family (千家家) and the Kitajima family (北島家), both sharing the responsibility for rituals equally to avoid conflicts. Traditionally, the highest ritual authority has remained with the Senge family; today, the 84th Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko, Senge Takamasa (千家尊祐), holds this position. If you’ve read my previous articles, you might wonder: “Didn’t the Meiji government abolish hereditary succession for shrines?” Indeed, nearly all hereditary priesthoods at ancient shrines were abolished by government decree, yet a few shrines managed to maintain hereditary rights. Chief among these exceptions were such as Izumo Taisha in Shimane and Kono Shrine (籠神社) in Tango. The background to these exceptions involves complex historical dynamics, including the respective power and rankings of various deities—topics I acknowledge can be quite challenging, so I’ll gradually explore these in future articles on Shitsurae.

Yet even Izumo Taisha could not entirely avoid the effects of the Meiji government’s “Ise Jingu System.” It faced severe repercussions, including temporary prohibitions on hereditary succession and the confiscation of vast shrine lands and priestly resources. Despite these setbacks, Izumo Taisha managed to restore the Senge family’s hereditary status thanks to one extraordinarily promising and virtuous individual. Without this figure, Izumo Taisha might have fallen under bureaucratic domination similar to Ise Shrine, potentially losing its authentic faith traditions forever. This pivotal individual was none other than the 80th Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko, Senge Takatomi (千家尊福, 1845–1918). Personally, he is the Shinto priest I admire most in history.

To begin, let’s examine the period around 1872, four years after the establishment of the new Meiji government, as bureaucrats gradually built a modern administrative system. Deeply angered by the government’s aggressive measures aimed at destroying Japan’s foundational spiritual traditions, Takatomi boldly became the Chief Priest (宮司, Guji) of Izumo Taisha at the remarkably young age of 26. With youthful vigor, he defied the new government’s pressure, dispatching missionaries nationwide to shrines and organizations aligned with Izumo worship. These missionaries ardently asserted Izumo’s ancient legitimacy, rallying dispersed believers into renewed cohesion. Takatomi’s tireless efforts to preserve the Izumo worship network earned him considerable recognition among influential Shinto priests dissatisfied with governmental policies. Consequently, in 1878, he succeeded his father to formally become the Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko, solidifying his role as spiritual leader.

Believing that turning a blind eye to the government’s wrongdoings would mean the eventual loss of Japan’s faith traditions, Takatomi actively served within the government, deeply involving himself in religious administration while simultaneously fulfilling his dual role by protecting the rituals of Izumo Taisha. However, his actions inevitably drew hostility from certain influential individuals, and he soon found himself in a severe crisis. This crisis was the “Deity Enshrinement Controversy” (祭神論争) of 1875, an incident that radically changed Takatomi’s life.

The “Deity Enshrinement Controversy” was a fierce debate within the newly established “Shinto Affairs Bureau” (神道事務局), the unified missionary organization founded by the Meiji government, about which kami should be worshipped as supreme deities. The Bureau planned to enshrine four primary deities: the three primordial kami from the opening passages of Japan’s ancient chronicles, Kojiki and Nihon Shoki—Ame-no-Minakanushi (天之御中主神), Takamimusubi (高御産巣日神), and Kamimusubi (神産巣日神)—alongside Amaterasu, the imperial ancestral deity. However, Takatomi strongly advocated adding Okuninushi of Izumo Taisha to these deities. His primary opponent during this controversy was Tanaka Yoritsune (田中頼庸, 1836–1897), a former samurai from the influential Satsuma Domain (now Kagoshima), who was astonishingly appointed Chief Priest Assistant (禰宜, Negi) of Ise Jingu in 1871 after hereditary succession was abolished. In other words, a person with absolutely no traditional ties to Ise Shrine suddenly became its critical spiritual leader.

While this controversy may seem complicated to readers, it essentially arose because Tanaka, deeply committed to the formula equating “Emperor worship with Amaterasu veneration,” rejected Okuninushi’s inclusion in the Bureau’s pantheon on mythological grounds (related to the “Kuniyuzuri” or “Transfer of the Land” myth). This confrontation caused a decisive split into two camps: the “Ise faction” (伊勢派), supporting Tanaka’s viewpoint, and the “Izumo faction” (出雲派), supporting Takatomi’s stance, thereby significantly influencing Shinto’s religious historical trajectory. Simply put, the disagreement spread nationwide, erupting into a heated debate involving nearly every Shinto priest across the country.

This scenario becomes clearer when viewed as a struggle between the Ise faction led by Tanaka—aiming to establish the “Ise Jingu System”—and the Izumo faction led by Takatomi, who countered that Amaterasu was not Japan’s sole prominent deity. From Tanaka’s perspective, Takatomi represented the Izumo hereditary lineage at Izumo Taisha, something Tanaka could not accept because it undermined the complete abolition of hereditary priesthood he sought. Personally, I interpret this as a conflict between bureaucrat-aligned priests of the Ise faction, who aimed to monopolize enormous economic and material benefits through the centralized Ise system, versus the ancient clan-based Izumo faction under Takatomi, who maintained that shrine worship could never be reduced to modern economic interests.

Due to the severity and intensity of this conflict, making governmental control nearly impossible, the exasperated Meiji government ultimately declared unilaterally that “Shinto is not a religion,” effectively granting victory to the Ise faction. Behind this decision, I suspect many bureaucrats were influenced by Tanaka’s lucrative interests, but it’s critical to note that the Ise faction went as far as petitioning Emperor Meiji himself to force a ruling explicitly to eliminate Takatomi’s stance. Once the emperor agreed with the Ise faction, Takatomi and his followers could no longer resist, resulting in Okuninushi’s removal from the Bureau’s official pantheon and marking a decisive defeat for the Izumo faction.

Ironically, this “Deity Enshrinement Controversy” ultimately clarified the distinction between the Ise faction’s vision of Shinto as a state religion and the Izumo faction’s vision of Shinto as a local, place-rooted faith intended to be inherited by future generations. Thus, the concept of “Shinto” itself split at this historical juncture and continues to exist in a state of confusion under a singular definition today. From this moment onwards, the Ise faction’s radical actions gradually solidified into the system known as State Shinto (国家神道). Indeed, while I regularly visit the distant Izumo Taisha, I consciously choose never to visit Ise Shrine.

Despite losing the battle, Takatomi’s faith never wavered. In 1882, determined to personally restrain the unchecked power of the Ise faction, he made the most significant decision of his life. Astonishingly, he relinquished his positions as Chief Priest of Izumo Taisha and Izumo no Kuni no Miyatsuko entirely to his younger brother, and instead founded the officially recognized Shinto sect called “Shinto Taisha-ha” (神道大社派), later known as “Izumo Oyashiro-kyo” (出雲大社教). He dedicated himself wholly to strengthening the nationwide network of Izumo-aligned shrines and followers.

Through his relentless efforts, Takatomi profoundly impressed a certain influential individual, who saw him sacrifice status and honor to uphold his beliefs and secure a future for Japan’s spiritual heritage. This encounter would drastically alter Takatomi’s life.

This influential individual was none other than Hirobumi Ito (伊藤博文), Japan’s very first Prime Minister.