Korean and Japanese Buddhism, 1877– 1912 Hwansoo Ilmee Kim A Study of the International Center for Korean Studies at the Research Institute of Korean Studies, Korea University Published by the Harvard University Asia Center and distributed by Harvard University Press Cambridge (Massachusetts) and London, 2012
© 2012 by Th e President and Fellows of Harvard College Printed in the United States of America Th e Harvard University Asia Center publishes a monograph series and, in coordination with the Fairbank Center for Chinese Studies, the Korea Institute, the Reischauer Institute of Japa nese Studies, and other faculties and institutes, administers research projects designed to further scholarly understanding of China, Japan, Vietnam, Korea, and other Asian countries. Th e Center also sponsors projects addressing multidisciplinary and regional issues in Asia.

Th e International Center for Korean Studies (ICKS), an affi liate of the Research Institute of Korean Studies, was established in 2003 to coordinate and develop resources for Korean studies at Korea University. Th e Studies of ICKS (the International Center for Korean Studies) were inaugurated in 2004 to revitalize research in Korea by disseminating major achievements of Korean Studies made all over the world. Th e series is committed to the publication of outstanding new scholarly work on issues related to Korea from all disciplines.

Library of Congress Cataloging- in- Publication Data Kim, Hwansoo Ilmee, 1970– Empire of the Dharma : Korean and Japanese Buddhism, 1877–1912 / Hwansoo Ilmee Kim. pages cm. – (Harvard East Asian Monographs : 344) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-674-06575-8 (alk. paper) 1. Buddhism—Korea—History—19th century. 2. Buddhism—Korea—History—20th century. 3. Buddhism—Japan—History—1868–1945. 4. Korea—Social conditions—19th century. 5. Korea—Social conditions—20th century. 6. Japan—Social conditions—1868–1912. I. Title. BQ664.K54 2013 294.309519’09034—dc23 2012045306 Index by Rachel Lyon Printed on acid- free paper Last fi gure below indicates year of this printing 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12

AcKnowLedgMents

Th is book would not have been possible without the sustained guidance, encouragement, and support of many. I am deeply indebted to the seasoned professors at Harvard University, who worked with me during my master’s and doctoral study. Gratitude goes fi rst and foremost to my advisor and mentor of more than thirteen years, Professor Helen Hardacre.

As an exemplary scholar and teacher, she has served as my role model. I am also grateful to Professor Carter Eckert, who instilled in me a careful and critical approach to the history of colonial Korea and colonial Buddhism. His insights into and engagement with my work have been indispensable in achieving the book’s fi nal structure and content. Professor Davíd Carrasco broadened my understanding of Korean and Japa nese Buddhism through the fi elds of anthropology, sociology, and phenomenology. Professor David Little introduced me to Weberian sociology, nationalism, and religious violence. Professor Robert Gimello taught Chinese Buddhism in a most insightful way. Professor Robert Orsi helped me to refl ect on myself as insider and outsider as I dealt with my subject. In addition, I would like to thank Professors Mikael Adolphson, Harold Bolitho, Daniel Botsman, and Andrew Gordon and for their engaged and constructive comments on my early work on the Wfnjong- Sōtō alliance, transforming my thinking about this key event. Professors Ryūichi Abe, Sungtaek Cho, Christopher Queen, Donald Swearer, and Duncan Williams have always been there for me at major junctures in my life, providing valuable academic and personal advice.

Vi Ac Know Ledg Ments

During my postdoctoral year at the Harvard Reischauer Institute, Professors Richard Jaff e of Duke University, Shigehisa Kuriyama of Harvard University, and Pori Park of Arizona State University, along with doctoral candidate Motokazu Matsutani of Harvard University, read my book in its initial stages and provided productive and critical comments in a one- day symposium. Th eir feedback signifi cantly reshaped the manuscript.

Over the years, my research has been generously funded by the Committee on the Study of Religion, the Reischauer Institute, the Korea Institute, and the Center for the Study of World Religions at Harvard. I
would like to thank the dedicated and knowledgeable staff of Harvard’s Yenching Library, the Reischauer Institute, the Korea Institute, and the Harvard Asia Center, who provided administrative support with thoughtfulness, warmth, and patience. My special thanks goes to the director of the Asia Center’s Publications Program, William Hammell, for having exerted great care in guiding this book through the publication pro cess.

Th e assistance of other scholars outside of the United States has been indispensable to my research over the years as well. Professors Tsukinoki Mizuo of Dōhō University, Izumi Kazetane of Ōtani University, and Kawase Takaya of Kyōto Shiritsu University, and librarians Tsuji Hironori and Kashima Akiko, both of Shūgakuin University, kindly shared their primary sources and helped me locate further documentation. Dr. Tongch’un Park of Dongguk University assisted in translating some of the handwritten Chinese characters in primary sources that were diffi cult to read.

Among my se nior colleagues, I am especially indebted to Professor Robert Buswell of UCLA for his wisdom and guidance over the past few years. In addition, I owe much to Professors Nam- lin Hur of the University of British Columbia, Eun- su Cho of Seoul National University, and Jin Park of American University. My ju nior colleagues, Micah Auerback, Eyal Aviv, Ryan Joo, Jason Josephson, Kyong- mi Kwon, and Henry Todd have been terrifi c scholarly companions. I must also express my deep appreciation to the faculty of the East Asian Studies Department at the University of Arizona, where I held my fi rst job, for their kindness and their support of my teaching and research.

At Duke University, I have the privilege of working with wonderful colleagues and staff in my two departments, Religion and Asian &

Ac Know Ledg Ments Vii

Middle Eastern Studies. I am particularly thankful to Professor Richard Jaff e for his unfl agging support of Korean Buddhist studies. Th e East Asian librarians at Duke have provided superb support as well. In addition, I thank my colleague and dear friend Barbara Ambros of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill for having given me valuable advice on teaching, job applications, and publishing over the years.

I also express my heartfelt appreciation to the following monastic friends: Simong, Hwigwang, Harim, Chibfm, Sfnggwan, Chigwang, Chisfn, and Pophyfn Sunims. Other friends who have given me support in numerous ways are Sim T’aehyfng, Hong Sgnggyfng, Janet Qualia, and Yi T’aeho, among many.

One of the central arguments of my book was fi rst introduced in an article published in Religion Compass 4, no. 5 (2010) as “A Buddhist Colonialism? A New Perspective on the Attempted Alliance of 1910 between the Japa nese Sōtōshū and the Korean Wfnjong.” An earlier version of chapter 5 appeared in Japa nese Journal of Religious Studies 37, no.1
(2010) as ” ‘Th e Future of Korean Buddhism Lies in My Hands’: Takeda Hanshi as a Sōtō Missionary.”
Last, I must acknowledge that this book benefi ted signifi cantly from the keen editing skills of my wife and friend of thirteen years, Sumi Loundon Kim. She spent countless hours on my dissertation and book to make the writing as clear as possible, even while getting dinner ready for our two children, Priya and Sfnjae. I proudly dedicate this book to her.

Hwansoo Ilmee Kim Durham, November 2012

Contents

List of Maps, Tables, and Figures	xi
Map of Th irty Head Temples	xiii
Map of Seoul, 1900	xv
Chronology of Major Events	xvii
Major Historical Periods	xix
Key Institutions and Individuals	xxi
Major Movements and Organizations	xxiii
	Introduction	1
1	Th e History of Buddhism in Korea and Japan	24
2	Encounters between Japa nese Priests and Korean Monks	71
3	Japa nese Buddhist Missions to Korea	107
4	Regulations, Alliances, and Backlash	151
5	Takeda Hanshi as a Sōtōshū Missionary	186
6	Th e Wfnjong and Sōtōshū’s Attempted Alliance	228
7	Th e Alliance’s Failure and the 1911 Temple Ordinance	282

X Contents

Conclusion: Toward a New History 338 Postscript: Th e Enduring Impact of the 1911 Temple Ordinance 350

Reference Matter
Glossary	363
Works Cited	375
Index	403

Maps, Tables, And Figures

Maps

0.1 Th irty Head Temples xiii 0.2 Seoul, 1900 xv

Tables Figures

2.1 Okumura Enshin 84 2.2 Shaku Unshō in Seoul, June 1906 98 3.1 Ōtani Honganji Pusan Betsuin 111 1.1 Korean temples and monastics, 1912 37 1.2 Census of Japan’s Buddhist temples and incumbents, 1912 68 2.1 Years offi cial missions commenced 77 2.2 Figures of the fi ve sects of Korea, 1937 78 2.3 Number of Japa nese temples and missionaries in foreign lands, 1937 and 1938 81 2.4 Years Japa nese sects established branches in Korea 81 4.1 Administrative structure of the Sasa Kwalli Sf 156 4.2 Four Korean temples approved for protection 176 4.3 Th e positions of the Wfnjong 182 7.1 Temples/preaching halls, Buddhist missionaries, and members, 1908– 1913 334

Xii List Of Maps, Tables, And Figures

3.2	Sano Zenrei	121
3.3	Th e Jōdo Korean Church holds a Buddha’s birthday celebration	137
4.1	Th e head branch temple (betsuin) of the Shinshū Ōtani- ha	169
4.2	A petition letter sent from the Sōtōshū to Resident- General Itō	174
4.3	Th e Wfnhgng temple	180
5.1	Th e last photo of Takeda taken before his death	189
5.2	Yi Hoegwang’s nomination of Takeda as the Wfnjong’s advisor	201
6.1	Yi Hoegwang in the 1910s	231
6.2	Kim Hyfnam and Kang Taeryfn’s letter to Takeda	236
6.3	Th e Kakhwang temple in 1924	238
6.4	Kim Yfnggi	247
6.5	Kim Yfnggi’s letter on August 6, 1908	248
6.6	Kim Yfnggi’s letter on November 19, 1908	249
7.1	Four characters brushed by King Yfngch’in (Yi Un)	299
7.2	One of Yi Hoegwang’s letters to Takeda	311
7.3	Korean monks and lay people at the Higashi Honganji temple	312

Chunghŭng Temple OO SOO
s.

vi 4.

5.

6.

Honpa Honganji Temple 7.

Wonhung Temple
Myongjin School 8.

9.

Map 0.2 Seoul, 1900 (Royal Asiatic Society)

10. Sotoshu Temple Colonial Government’s Office 1. (1926–1945)
11. Kyōghō Palace
12. Kyōghū Palace 1. Kyōghū Palace 1. Kyōghū Palace 1. Kyōghū Palace 1. Kyōghū Palace 1. Ky

Chronology Of Major Events

1895	Sano Zenrei plays a role in lifting the anti- Buddhist ordinance
1897	Korea becomes Imperial Korea
1902	Bureau of Temple Administration established at Wfnhgng Temple
	Temple Ordinance promulgated
1904	Russo- Japanese War
1905	Korea becomes a protectorate of Japan
1906	Society of Buddhist Studies founded
	Myfngjin School established
	November: Resident- General issues the Regulations on Religion
1908	March: Wfnjong established
	July: Takeda Hanshi becomes advisor to Wfnjong
1910	March: Yi initiates building a propagation center inside the four gates of Seoul
	August: Japan annexes Korea
	October: Wfnjong and Sōtōshū form an alliance
	December: Imjejong established
1911	June: Temple Ordinance
1912	Colonial government disestablishes Wfnjong and Imjejong

Major Historical Periods

KOREA JAPAN

Th ree Kingdoms 57bce– 668ce Unifi ed Silla 668– 935 Nara 710– 794 Heian 794– 1185

Koryf 918– 1392 Kamakura 1185– 1333 Chosfn 1392– 1910 Muromachi 1333– 1573

Azuchi- Momoyama 1573– 1603 Edo 1603– 1868 Colonial Korea 1910– 1945 Meiji 1868– 1912

Key Institutions And Individuals

Korean Pulgyo yfn’guhoe (Buddhist Study Society)
Yi Podam (1859–?)
Hong Wflch’o (1858– 1934)
Wfnjong Yi Hoegwang (1862– 1933) Pak Pobong Kim Yfnggi (1877–?) Kim Hyfnam Kang Taeryfn (1875– 1942) Ch’oe Ch’wihf (Sfk Sangsun, 1865–?) Kwfn Sangno (1879– 1965)
Imjejong Han Yong’un (1879– 1944)
Pak Hanyfng (1870– 1948)
To Chinho Other fi gures Yi Tong’in (1850?– 1881) Kim Okkyun (1851– 1894)
Pak Yfnghyo (1861– 1939) Taewfn’gun (1820– 1898)
Queen Min (1851– 1895)
Kwfn Chongsfk (1854– 1934)
xxii Key Institutions and Individuals Yi Kgnt’aek (1865– 1919) Yi Kgnho (1860– 1923)
Yi Yonggu (1868– 1912)
Song Pyfngjun (1858– 1925)
Japa n Higashi (Ōtani), Jōdoshinshū Okumura Enshin (1843– 1913) Inami Senshō Nishi (Honpa), Jōdoshinshū Iwao Jōen (?– 1948)
Nichirenshū Katō Bunkyō Sano Zenrei (1859– 1912) Asahi Nichimyō (1833– 1916) Shimada Tōsui Shingonshū Shaku Unshō (1827– 1909)
Jōdoshū Inoue Genshin (1861– 1913) Horio Kanmu (1827– 1921) Hiroyasu Shinzui (1848– 1922)
Rinzaishū Furukawa Taikō (1871– 1988)
Sōtōshū Takeda Hanshi (1863– 1911) Hioki Mokusen (1847– 1920) Hirotsu Sessan (1862– 1932)
politicians Miura Gorō (1847– 1929) Okamoto Ryūnosuke (1852– 1912) Itō Hirobumi (1841– 1909) Terauchi Masatake (1857– 1919)

Major Organizations And Movements

Ch’fndogyo: “Th e Religion of the Heavenly Way” was a new title the Tonghak created for itself in 1905. See Tonghak.

Gen’yōsha: “Th e Black Ocean Society” was an ultra- nationalist and imperialist society or ga nized by Hiraoka Kōtarō (d. 1906) in 1881 and run by the de facto leader Tōyama Mitsuru (1855– 1944). Tōyama was the only surviving disciple of Saigō Takamori (1827– 1887) who initiated the debate to conquer Korea (seikanron). Th e primary objective of this po litical or ga ni za tion was to promote the worship of the emperor and stimulate the Japa nese government to take control of the Asian continent. Th e society was named after the sea between Japan and Korea, Genkai-nada, refl ecting its primary interest in Korea. Th e Gen’yōsha infl uenced the government to launch the wars against China in 1894 and Rus sia in 1904, and it continued to push a militaristic approach to Asia until it was disbanded in 1945. To accomplish its goals, the Gen’yōsha’s members used tactics ranging from persuasion to threats to violence. It also reached out to Asian po liti cal reformers such as Kim Okkyun of Korea and Sun Yatsen (1866– 1925) of China.

Ilchinhoe: “Th e Advancement Society” was a po liti cal or ga ni za tion, established in 1904, with the aim of reforming and modernizing Korea.

Under the leadership of Song Pyfngjun and Yi Yonggu, the Ilchinhoe played a leading role in fi ghting the corruption of central and local offi cials.

Xxiv Major Organizations And Movements

However, it also collaborated with Japan during the Russo- Japanese War of 1904 and was instrumental in Japan’s annexation of Korea in 1910.

Imjejong: An institution formed to counter the Wfnjong. Named after a Chinese Zen master Linchi (?– 867), it was initiated by Han Yong’un, Pak Hanyfng, and Chin Chingng in December 1910 to oppose the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance. Th e colonial government disestablished it, along with the Wfnjong, in 1912. Kabo kyfngjang: “Kabo Reform.” Th e fi rst large- scale reform program initiated by the Korean government in 1894. Th e reform was overseen by a pro- Japanese cabinet within the Korean government that the Japa nese established after ousting the pro- Chinese Min oligarchy that same year.

Th e Kabo Reform lasted one and a half years, during which 660 documents on po liti cal, social, and legal reforms were written.

Kapsin chfngbyfn: A coup attempted in the year of kapsin, 1884, by the Enlightenment Party (Kaehwadang), a reform party consisting of disenchanted Confucians and others that sought the modernization of Korea.

In October, members attempted to topple pro- Chinese offi cials heading the Korean government and to bring about a po liti cal reform analogous to the Meiji Restoration in Japan. However, the coup failed when three days later Chinese troops retook the palace. Kokuryūkai: Th e “Amur River Society,” or “Black Dragon Society,” an off shoot of the Gen’yōsha, was founded by Uchida Ryōhei (1874– 1937) in 1901. Its objective was similar to the Gen’yōsha: to pressure the Japa nese government into having an aggressive foreign policy. Its members included politicians and it published the infl uential journal Kokuryū.

Sich’fn’gyo: Th e “Heaven Serving Religion” was established by Yi Yonggu in 1906, who had been excommunicated from the Ch’fndogyo
(Tonghak) because he had collaborated with the Japa nese. In tandem with the Ilchinhoe, the Sich’fn’gyo worked closely with the Japa nese, and especially with Takeda Hanshi. Sōtokufu: Japan’s “Colonial Government Offi ce” for Korea, established on August 19, 1910 and located in Seoul.

Governors- General (1910– 1945):
Terauchi Masatake: 1910– 1916 Hasegawa Yoshimichi: 1916– 1919 Saitō Makoto: 1919– 1927 Ugaki Kazunari: April 1927– October 1927 Yamanashi Hanzō: 1927– 1929 Saitō Makoto: 1929– 1931 Ugaki Kazunari: 1931– 1936 Minami Jirō: 1936– 1942 Koiso Kuniaki: 1942– 1944 Abe Nobuyuki: 1944– 1945 Ten’yūkyō: Th e “Heaven Helping Society” was formed in Pusan in 1894, and was comprised mainly of groups of ultra- nationalists (continental wanderers [rōjin]). Th ey joined the Tonghak peasant rebels in Korea to fi ght against government troops, topple the pro- Chinese oligarchy led by Queen Min (1851– 1895), and establish a new, pro- Japanese government. Other than some successful espionage work in Korea, the Ten’yūkyō’s activities in Korea were minor and, with the outbreak of the SinoJapanese War, they disestablished themselves and members retreated to Japan. Some former members joined the Kokuryūkai in 1901. Tōkanfu: Th e “Resident- General’s Offi ce” was Japan’s semi- colonial government for Korea. It was established in 1906 as part of the protectorate treaty in 1905 that gave Japan authority over Korea’s foreign relations. Th e Tōkanfu was replaced by the colonial government (Sōtokufu)
in 1910 when Japan offi cially annexed Korea.

Residents- General (Tōkan):
Itō Hirobumi: 1906– 1909 Sone Arasuke: 1909– 1910 Terauchi Masatake: May 30– October 1 1910 Tonghak: “Eastern Learning,” established in 1860. Th e found er of this religious reform movement was Ch’oe Che’u (1824– 1864). Its doctrine

Xxvi Major Organizations And Movements

included all the major religions— Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism, shamanism, and Catholicism— and spread rapidly among oppressed peasants in opposition to corrupt central and local offi cials. Th e members of the Tonghak clamored for strengthening the country to curb the incursion of foreign countries, for equality of all classes, and for social reforms. Due to the po liti cal nature of the Tonghak movement, culminating in the Tonghak peasant rebellions of 1894, the government executed the leader Ch’oe in 1863 as well as the second leader Ch’oe Sihyfng
(1827– 1898). However, the Tonghak continued to develop throughout the colonial period as one of the most infl uential religions, playing a major role in the March First Movement of 1919. Under the leadership of Son Pyfnghgi (1861– 1922), its name was changed to the Ch’fndogyo in 1905.

Wfnjong: Th e “Round” or “Consummate Sect,” the fi rst modern institution of Korean Buddhism, was established by fi fty- two monks in March 1908. Yi Hoegwang was elected as the patriarch of the Wfnjong and Takeda Hanshi became its advisor. It was disestablished in 1912 when the colonial government issued the 1911 Temple Ordinance.

Empire of the Dharma Harvard East Asian Monographs 344

Introduction

Yi Hoegwang (1862– 1933), a Korean Buddhist monk and leader, had come to Tokyo in October 1910 for an important meeting. He must have had a lot on his mind as he prepared to convene with the head priest of one of the most powerful Buddhist institutions in Japan, the Sōtōshū (Sōtō sect). Yi had been sent to draw up terms of an alliance between the Sōtōshū and the recently founded Wfnjong (Consummate sect), a new or ga ni za tion supported by Korean Buddhist leaders that sought to unify, revitalize, and modernize the enfeebled, impoverished Korean Buddhism. For the past three years, Yi’s own government, the Korean imperial government, as well as the Japa nese Protectorate offi ce, had turned away the Wfnjong’s petitions for state recognition and legal protection.

Now that Japa nese colonial authorities controlled Korea, an alliance with the Sōtōshū, with its deep connections to the Meiji government, might provide the Wfnjong with suffi cient clout to get petitions approved.

On that same day, Yi’s Japa nese colleague Takeda Hanshi (1863– 1911),
a Sōtō priest and the recent advisor to the Wfnjong, was resting at a hospital in Seoul, fi ghting off cancer. Takeda was surely wondering how the meeting was going. He, like Yi, was fi rmly convinced that the Sōtōshū would be able to help the Wfnjong receive state recognition and that the Wfnjong, through the protection of the colonial government, could

2 Introduction

revitalize Korean Buddhism. But this was just one step in a larger plan: Takeda envisioned that a revitalized, modernized Korean Buddhism, with the guidance of the Sōtōshū, would push Christianity and Western imperial powers out of Asia. For both Takeda and the Wfnjong, a lot rested on this meeting.

Th is was the scene on that autumn day, less than two months after Japan’s annexation of Korea, when the two sides met to hammer out terms for a mutually benefi cial “alliance” (K. yoˇnhap tongmaeng and Jp. rengō dōmei). Th e fact of the meeting and its aftermath has gone down in Korean history as a shameful moment when Korean Buddhists, torn between nationalism and collaboration, threw in the hat with their new colonial rulers. For de cades following, historiography rendered this event as one of imperialist Japa nese Buddhists seeking to colonize Korean Buddhism on behalf of the Meiji regime— a “religious annexation” that was an extension of the po liti cal annexation a few months prior. Even though a century has passed since the attempted alliance, the predominant narrative is still framed in po liti cal terms, such as colonial oppression versus nationalist re sis tance. Moreover, this one event in 1910 is made to represent all of the nearly seven- decade relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhism in the modern period.

But in reality, this relationship and the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance involved a great deal more than po liti cal ideology. Driving decisions on both sides were sectarian competition among Japa nese Buddhists, PanAsian Buddhist visions, the threat posed by Christianity, self- promotion, the need to secure temple properties as Korean society disintegrated, and the desire among Korean Buddhists to make use of Japa nese Buddhist fi nancial, social, po liti cal, and educational resources to advance themselves, their temples, and their fl edging institution. New ideas about modernity, the centralization and bureaucratization of religion, and the propagation of the Buddhist religion through missionary work also framed the way many Korean and Japa nese Buddhists thought about their future.

Th is book explores how these factors shaped the relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists from 1877 to 1912 to bring to light the agency and voices of Buddhists from these two countries, which have been overshadowed by highly dramatized and politicized narratives. Th e central argument is that the relationship should be understood as one that

Introduction 3

abounded with converging and diverging visions, interests, and strategies among Korean Buddhists, Japa nese Buddhists, and the state regarding the future of Korean and Japa nese Buddhism in the colony and the empire.

Defi Ning The Period And Historiography

Recovering the richness of this history begins by defi ning the period and reviewing the nationalist/anti- colonialist historiography. Japa nese Buddhist priests began missionary work in Korea de cades before Japan fully colonized Korea in 1910. Soon after Japan forcibly opened Korea through gunboat diplomacy in 1876, Japa nese priests established small temples and preaching halls in Korean port cities to support Japa nese residents and their families. As Japan escalated its po liti cal involvement in Korea over the following years, especially after the Sino- Japanese war of 1894– 1895 and the Russo- Japanese war of 1904– 1905, so too did Japa nese Buddhist priests seek to expand their control over the religious sphere of Korea, fi rst targeting Korean temples and monastics as potential converts to their own sects. When Japan made Korea a protectorate in 1905, even greater numbers of Japa nese Buddhists arrived in Korea, becoming more deeply involved with Korean Buddhism. Th e relationship between Japa nese priests and Korean monks in these years was highly dynamic as individuals, groups, and institutions jockeyed to take control of the religious landscape during a time of tremendous social and po liti cal upheaval.

However, the relationship changed entirely when Japan made Korea its colony in 1910 and the Japa nese colonial government took full control

4 Introduction

of all aff airs in Korea. Th rough the promulgation of the Temple Ordinance of 1911, the government deliberately sidelined Japa nese Buddhist missionaries and began regulating Korean Buddhism directly. Th e government fi rmly enforced the regulations of the Ordinance by mid- 1912, eff ectively severing institutional contact between the two Buddhisms. Although Japa nese Buddhist priests continued to work in Korea until 1945, when Japan lost the war and its colonies, Korean and Japa nese Buddhists looked after their two communities separately.

Th is book takes up the relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhism from 1877, when Okumura Enshin (1843– 1913) opened the fi rst Japa nese temple in Pusan, to mid- 1912, when enforcement of the 1911 Temple Ordinance segregated the two Buddhisms. Th is 35- year period is especially vibrant and rich because the Meiji government encouraged but did not control Japa nese Buddhism tightly and because the rapidly disintegrating Korean government had even less oversight of Korean Buddhism, leading to a dynamic and creative relationship that had not been seen before nor has it been repeated since.

However, this unique and fascinating piece of history is not fully understood. Due to the scope and severity of Japan’s domination of Korea and the bitterness of Korea’s colonial experience, both Korean and Japanese scholars tend to render Japa nese Buddhist missionaries as imperialists, working entirely on behalf of their government to achieve a po liti cal agenda. Th is view is not without merit: Japa nese Buddhist priests in the late nineteenth century often came to Korea as chaplains during the 1895 Sino- Japanese war and the 1904 Russo- Japanese War, and as soldiers in the early 1940s. Buddhist leaders at home urged their priests to join Japan’s total war eff ort and trumpeted theological justifi cations for Japan’s superiority and domination of the colonized. In scholarship, Japa nese Buddhism’s heightened role in Japan’s imperial conquests in the late 1930s and 1940s is mistakenly used as a lens to interpret the thought and behavior of Japa nese priests in the pre- annexation period. As a result, the story of Buddhism in pre- colonial and early colonial Korea is inevitably cast almost entirely in po liti cal terms.

Introduction 5

Scholars from Japan and Korea have produced ample histories since the 1960s. Two of the founding Japanese- language scholars of this topic were Nakano Kyōtoku and Han Sfkhgi. Th eir versions of the period later infl uenced scholars in the 1980s and 1990s, such as Mitō Ryō and Hishiki Masaharu. In Korea, Chfng Kwangho, Sf Kyfngsu, and Im Hyebong wrote accounts in the 1970s and 1980s, which were drawn upon by Kim Kwangsik, Ch’oe Pyfnghfn, Kim Sunsfk, and others in the 1990s and early 2000s. Th ese Korean and Japa nese scholars have brought to light the ways in which Japa nese Buddhists perpetrated imperialist schemes in Korea and the responses of Korean monastics. Generally, these scholars have adhered to the narrative outlined in the following paragraphs.

By the late 1800s, modern changes had begun to dawn on Korean Buddhism as a result of the proactive reforms policies initiated by the Korean government (1897– 1910) and work spearheaded by lay and monastic leaders. But this natural evolution toward modern practices was hijacked by the “invasion” and “evil schemes” of Japa nese Buddhist priests, the “vanguard for Japan’s invasion of Korea.” Japa nese priests from diff erent sects forced Korean temples to pledge allegiance to Japanese Buddhism and imposed their own colonial, sectarian visions on Korean Buddhists. Later, the Japa nese colonial government forced Korean monks to get married, thereby displacing Korean Buddhism’s agency.

Th e Korean monastics who cooperated with Japa nese priests were
“collaborators” and “anti- nationalists,” and therefore they were “traitors.”
Some collaborators lacked “nationalist consciousness” and were “unaware of the true intention of Japa nese Buddhist sects.” Th ose who resisted the Japa nese were nationalists who defended the Korean nation and the

6 Introduction

Korean Buddhist tradition, and therefore they were heroes. Th ose Korean monastics who neither collaborated nor resisted were “defenseless” and gullible victims. Japa nese priests, for their part, worked inseparably with the government “in line with Japan’s goals of invasion and control of the colonized” and were solely interested in making Koreans “faithful subjects of the emperor” (kōminka). If Japa nese Buddhists could bring Korean Buddhism under their control, this would further strengthen the Japa nese government’s colonization of Korea as a whole. Japa nese Buddhist missionaries were nothing more than “state offi cials.” Th eir work in Korea was “not a Buddhist propagation” eff ort and therefore there is
“nothing to be positively evaluated” in the impact they made. In a word, there were no religious contributions, at either an individual or social level, to Korea whatsoever.

Japa nese Buddhism’s attempt to subjugate Korean Buddhism started in the late 1870s. Th e Higashi Honganji- ha of the Jōdoshinshū (Jōdoshin sect) was the fi rst to act on its interest in Korean Buddhism, followed by the Nichirenshū (Nichiren sect), the Jōdoshū (Jōdo sect), the Honpa Honganji- ha of the Jōdoshinshū, and the Sōtōshū. It culminated in the infamous Sōtō- Wfnjong merger of 1910. Th e Sōtōshū colluded with the governing body of Korean Buddhism, the Wfnjong, to form an agreement that the Wfnjong would be converted to and thus controlled by the Sōtōshū, thereby eradicating the institutional identity of the Wfnjong. Th is merger was arranged by one of Japan’s most notorious imperialists, Takeda Hanshi, forty- six days after Japan’s annexation of Korea in late August. Th e head of the Wfnjong, the Korean monk Yi Hoegwang, almost succeeded in handing Korean Buddhism over to Japan for his own profi t and advancement. Yi was “extremely pro- Japanese” and “a seller of Korean Buddhism.”

Introduction 7

Th e merger was blocked, however, thanks to “monks with a nationalist consciousness” who established a counter sect, the Imjejong. Th e Imjejong fought to retain Korean Buddhism’s identity. However, the colonial government thwarted this indigenous, heroic, nationalist movement by issuing the 1911 Temple Ordinance and ordering the Imjejong to disband. Korean Buddhist monastics succumbed to the repressiveness of colonial rule throughout the remaining colonial period and became its tool. Th e 1911 Temple Ordinance was nothing more than “the persecution of Buddhism.” Th us, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries faithfully sowed the seeds of conquest so that the colonial government could harvest Korean Buddhism later. Th e scheme was well laid out on this po liti cal trajectory. Th is politicized narrative undoubtedly is a dominant, legitimate way of viewing the given history in the pro cess of the ongoing decolonization in post- colonial Korea and Korean Buddhism. Nevertheless, it has been the single, orthodox version of the history preventing the formation of different points of view. Even though more than a century has passed since the 1910 Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance, scholarship continues to interpret the event with nationalist undertones, as Carter Eckert has pointed out about colonial Korean historiography in general, such narratives continue “to exalt the nation and subordinate all scholarly inquiry to that purpose.”
As a result, this historiography fails to provide suffi cient attention to the true intricacy of the fi rst three- and- a-half de cade relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists, thereby greatly underestimating the agency of individuals and institutions on both sides.

New Interpretive Frameworks

Over the last ten years, scholars of East Asian colonial history have begun examining the limitations of constructing history in primarily politi cal terms. For example, contemporary scholars of Korean and Japanese modern history have successfully established that, although there is

8 Introduction

no question that the Japa nese colonial government advanced colonialism by the use of brute force, it is also true that the Japa nese colonial government, like many modern nation- states, had to maintain control by providing incentives and working cooperatively with its subjects. Th us, policies were constantly adjusted to persuade and assimilate the colonized. Th is point suggests that colonial relationships are not entirely defi ned by binaries. For example, the binary of Koreans as only either victims or resistors breaks down upon examination of how Koreans actively participated in the colonial system for their own ends.

Th ese suggestions, among others, have given rise to three new interpretive frameworks of colonial Korean history: colonial modernity, cultural nationalism, and internationally centered historiography. Th e concept of colonial modernity posits that aspects of modernity did emerge in Korea, albeit in the context of colonialism, and that Koreans benefi ted signifi cantly from it. Likewise, as recent scholars of colonial Korean Buddhism have pointed out, the Korean Buddhist sangha underwent modern changes, which were not necessarily negative, during the colonial period. As for the concept of cultural nationalism, Kenneth Wells challenges the modernist approach to nationalism, which he feels marginalizes the infl uence of religion. He asserts that Christianity and Korean modern nationalism were inseparable. A parallel entwining of religion and nationalism is seen in late nineteenth- and early twentieth- century Korean Buddhism: Korean Buddhist monastics set forth a “Buddhist cultural nationalism” that prioritized the revitalization of Buddhism as the best way to preserve the national and cultural identity of Korea. Th is cultural nationalism emerged during the time that Korean Buddhists had the greatest contact with Japa nese Buddhists. Scholars have also proposed the concept of internationally centered historiography. It criticizes the top- down and metro- centric approach that colonial history is subordinate to the main narratives of Japa nese imperial history. In Korea Between Empires, Schmid has highlighted how Koreans, with the help of print

Introduction 9

capitalism, joined global ideologies, created self- identities, and vied with colonial authorities and Japa nese nationalists to represent and defi ne discursive cultural terms. Likewise, pre- colonial Korean Buddhism needs to be understood in the global context in general and in the East Asian framework in par tic u lar. Th e survival tactics of Buddhist monasteries in Taiwan, China, and Korea through alliances with the Japa nese had roots in the way their own governments had marginalized them: comparing the relationship of each Buddhism to its state provides context for understanding how Korean Buddhism responded to modernity, colonialism, and nationalism.

Recent Revisions Drawing On New Frameworks

Just as scholars of East Asian colonial history are proposing new interpretive frameworks, historians of Japa nese and Korean colonial Buddhism are working out new methodologies. For example, Japaneselanguage scholarship has recently off ered useful guidance on rewriting the history of Japa nese missionary work in Asia. Th ey have proposed that scholars pursue “multi- layered and multi- contested approaches” to go beyond the two sentiments of “guilt” versus “hatred”— sentiments dominant particularly in the scholarship of Korean and Japa nese scholars. Th ey have also stressed the meticulous incorporation of primary sources beyond sectarian and national lines. Likewise, scholars of Korean Buddhism in Korea are questioning the pro- Japanese (ch’inil)/antiJapanese (hang’il ) paradigm. For example, they argue that scholarship should incorporate not “presentist views,” which look at the past through the contemporary eyes of the scholar, but “internal approaches,” which

10 Introduction

understand the past from the perspectives of those who lived it. Th ey further recommend evaluating Korean Buddhist history not from a “nationalist perspective” but from “the view of religious history.” Th ey suggest that binaries obstruct a comprehensive analysis of Korean Buddhists’ responses to colonialism broadly and to Japa nese Buddhism specifi cally. While there is now a clear call from both to revise the history of colonial Buddhism through a balanced use of sources and using new interpretive frameworks, there are as yet few extensive writings on the topic in point.

However, English- language scholars have begun to contribute revisions on the history of colonial Buddhism. Th ey have been the most vocal about challenging the binary, nationalist paradigm by highlighting the complexity of the interactions between Japa nese and Korean

Introduction 11

Buddhism. For example, an article by Henrik Sørenson concludes that Japa nese Buddhist missionaries played “a very important role in the Korean Buddhist re nais sance.” Vladimir Tikhonov also argues that to Korean monks Japan was viewed “as their protector in practice and an ideal of Buddhism- friendly modernity in theory.” Most recently, Pori Park and Jin Park have further contributed to the complexities surrounding the reform movements and intellectual developments of colonial Korean Buddhism in the East Asian and global context.

Likewise, this book seeks to signifi cantly revise this period but diff ers from the approach of other current scholars in three ways. First, even though scholars universally mark the paradigm shift in the relationship between the two Buddhisms at 1910, with the annexation of Korea, it is better to look toward mid- 1912. Th e peak of each side attempting to fi nd affi liations and alliances did not end with annexation but further intensifi ed until mid- 1912, at which point the colonial government actively enforced the Temple Ordinance of 1911. Th is roughly two- year period following annexation was in fact one of the most dynamic in the relationship between Japa nese and Korean Buddhism. For example, the consequences of the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement, formed two months after annexation, played out in signifi cant ways in the following year and a half, involving multiple parties and individuals beyond the original delegates to the meeting.

Second, contemporary revisions still tend to rely on primary sources from one sect exclusively. Th is book takes a more comprehensive and balanced approach on the work of the Japa nese Buddhist sects active in Korea by drawing from the denominational journals of fi ve sects.

12 Introduction

Evidence is provided to show that sectarian rivalry contributed to the unfolding of key events, such as the promulgation of regulations from the state, tensions among Buddhists and offi cials from both countries, and to the split in Korean Buddhism in 1911.

Th ird, and most importantly, this book questions and revises the nearuniversal assumption that the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement was a merger— a
“religious annexation”— that would have led to the Sōtōshū absorbing the Wfnjong. A careful reexamination of the major key players, events, and writings surrounding the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement suggests that there also existed contentious visions and strategies among Takeda, the Sōtōshū, and Yi regarding Korean Buddhism. Takeda’s work for Korean Buddhism receives extensive attention because historiography’s immutable image of Takeda as an ultra- nationalist predetermines the responses of Korean monks. Adding to the complexity of Takeda’s role as a Sōtōshū missionary changes how the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance is understood and provides more room for the potential agency of the Korean monks with whom he worked.

In revising the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance, this book also brings to light a key fi gure, Kim Yfnggi (1877–?), whom historiography has failed to notice.

From early on, Kim was deeply involved in the Wfnjong’s cause, mediating between Takeda and Yi, and the Sōtōshū and the Wfnjong. Th e incorporation of Kim signifi cantly changes the conventional understanding of the Wfnjong movement and the 1910 alliance.

Th E Scope Of Th Is Book

With these points in mind, among others, this book seeks to provide a thorough revision and comprehensive understanding of the history of the relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhism from the late nineteenth century to mid- 1912. Th e fi rst chapter revisits the backgrounds of late Chosfn and Meiji Buddhisms, contrasts the circumstances in which Korean and Japa nese Buddhists found themselves in the late nineteenth century, and highlights the newly available opportunities to both. Th e second chapter begins with a discussion of the academic debate on the discourse of propagation ( fukyō) in modern Japa nese Buddhism,

Introduction 13

followed by an outline of the beginnings of the Japa nese Buddhist missionary eff orts abroad. To provide the reader with a sense of the vibrancy and complexity of these early encounters, this chapter takes a close look at three Japa nese priests— Okumura Enshin, Katō Bunkyō, and Shaku Unshō (1827– 1909)—and their meetings with Korean monastics. Since neither side spoke each other’s language, these clerics communicated through written Chinese, which thus recorded “conversations” beautifully. Th ese writings reveal how religious, national, and cultural identities were mutually shared, debated, and transformed.

Chapter 3 examines sectarian interests, one among several motivations, as an important force driving Japa nese Buddhism. Th e Higashi Honganji (Shinshū Ōtani- ha), Nichirenshū, Jōdoshū, and Nishi Honganji (Shinshū Honganji- ha), especially, were in competition with each other to control as much, if not all, of Korean Buddhism as possible. Special attention will be given to how Japa nese Buddhist missionaries exerted signifi cant infl uence on Buddhists and high government offi cials in Korea, thus changing the landscape of Korean Buddhism. Th e following chapter analyzes the responses of Korean monks, the Korean government, and the Resident- General’s Offi ce to Japa nese Buddhist missionaries’ aggressive attempts to take over Korean Buddhism. It explores the growing number of alliances between the two Buddhisms.

Th e state authorities became concerned, causing the Korean government to issue the Temple Ordinance of 1902 and the Resident- General’s Offi ce to issue Regulations on Propagation of Religion in 1906. Special attention is given to how Korean monks made use of their alliances with Japa nese sects, especially, as a way to share international terms, promote educational programs for monastics, and centralize their tradition through a new religious identity, signs that Korean Buddhism was beginning its modern transformation.

Th e emergence of the Sōtōshū in Korea in 1908 is taken up in the fi fth chapter, with special attention to Takeda’s relationships with the Korean Buddhist Wfnjong, the Sōtōshū, and the state authorities. Th is chapter contends that Takeda’s per sis tent eff orts to revitalize Korean Buddhism should shift scholars’ understanding of Takeda as merely a po liti cal fi gure. His religious interests as a Buddhist and as a Sōtō monk were as strong as his po liti cal commitments. Chapter 6 closely examines the complexities surrounding the Sōtō- Wfnjong- attempted alliance in 1910.

14 Introduction

Th e chapter contends three points at odds with historiography. First, the alliance was not a religious annexation but a result of Yi’s calculated plan to make use of Takeda and the Sōtōshū to advance the interests of the Wfnjong. To prove this point further, the terms of the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement are analyzed in relation to the 1910 treaty formalizing Japan’s full annexation of Korea. Second, behind this alliance deal was a Korean monk named Kim Yfnggi, who played a crucial role as a mediator and informer between the two sects and between Takeda and Yi. Th ird, Takeda’s vision for Korean Buddhism was neither congruent with the colonial government’s nor with his own sect’s: the Sōtō administrators were reluctant to ally with Korean Buddhism. Th ese fi ndings do not alter the facts of the history of this event, but they do begin to complicate bipolar interpretations of it.

Desperate to see the alliance through, Takeda, despite failing health, wrote a treatise to persuade unenthusiastic parties. Chapter 7 looks at his book Treatise on the Six Truths for the Wfnjong (Enshū rokutai ron), the most detailed vision statement among those written by Japa nese Buddhist missionaries on the revitalization of Korean Buddhism. Th e chapter goes on to examine why Takeda was unable to conclude the agreement before his death in mid- 1911: Wfnjong monks had multiple affi liations and were playing off the Japa nese sects. Th e fi rst governor- general, Terauchi Masatake (1857– 1919), was completing the Temple Ordinance; and the Sōtōshū did not follow through. A detailed history of the ramifi cations of the 1911 Ordinance, including the events of the chaotic year and a half following its promulgation, concludes the chapter.

Th e conclusion brings together points from the proceeding chapters to make larger observations about the impact of Japa nese sectarianism, the agency of Korean monks, the modern transformation of Korean Buddhism, and Japa nese Buddhism’s eff orts in propagation. Th e postscript briefl y looks at how the 1911 Temple Ordinance inadvertently led to the clarifi cation and strengthening of Korean Buddhism’s identity in the remainder of the colonial period.

Arguments

Th e chapters, taken together, argue for several broad points that have, to one degree or another and with varying amounts of evidence, been made

Introduction 15

by other scholars but which have not been brought together into one, comprehensive narrative. As for Japa nese Buddhists, one of the most signifi cant factors at play was sectarian competition within Japa nese Buddhism. Each sect’s desire to bring Korean Buddhism under its own wing caused sects to work against each other and even against the needs of their own state. Th is rivalry led to such discord that the protectorate and colonial governments felt compelled to step in. Equally important to understanding the period is the Japa nese Buddhist zeal for propagation, a discourse newly introduced through the Christian missionaries in East Asia. Th e term fukyō or dendō (propagation) was one of the most frequently used ideological terms deployed among Japa nese Buddhists to justify expanding sectarian teachings and institutional infl uence in Japan and abroad. For the fi rst time in its history, Japa nese Buddhist sects operated transnationally. Many Japa nese Buddhists envisioned a PanAsian Buddhism that, led by a par tic u lar sect, would help Asia retain its culture in the face of Western imperialism. Korean Buddhism would be an integral part of this unifi ed, global Buddhism.

Th is Pan- Asian Buddhism would also act to counter the advances of Christianity into East Asia, a concern shared by both Japa nese and Korean Buddhists and one that, in part, brought the two sides together.

Many of the writings of Buddhists in this period refer to Christianity, indicating that Christianity was serving as an important point of reference to reconfi guring Korean and Japa nese Buddhists’ personal and institutional identity. Finally, in terms of extra- political factors shaping the history of this period, individual priests were motivated to advance their own interests. What ever lackluster standing one might have in Japan, working in Korea automatically boosted an individual’s prestige and clout, since both the Korean and Japa nese states considered Japa nese Buddhists useful. Japa nese Buddhists often took this opportunity to gain fame so that they could receive higher positions within their own sect.

As for the Korean side, the most important factor that caused Korean Buddhists to work with Japa nese Buddhists was the need to ensure the safety and protection of their temples. As law and order broke down in Korea, temples were raided and occupied not just by Korean offi cialsanti- Japanese soldiers— but also by Japa nese soldiers. Korean Buddhists also had social mobility in mind. As members of a marginalized group, Korean monks turned to infl uential Japa nese Buddhists to make contact

16 Introduction

with the state and to advance various projects. Furthermore, Korean monastics, and especially elite monks, prioritized returning Korean Buddhism to the center of the capital city, to which it had been denied offi cial access for centuries. Lacking the right po liti cal connections and institutional backing, they turned to well- connected Japa nese Buddhist sects.

Also, many Korean Buddhists considered Japa nese Buddhism as a modeland for many it was the only model— of a successfully reformed and modernized version of Buddhism. Th ey sought to re create that for Korean Buddhism, taking on new projects in education, propagation, and institutionalization. Lastly, just as was true for Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, individual monastics pursued their own personal agendas, gains, and fame in the name of reform, modernization, and the nation.

For both Japa nese and Korean Buddhists, their relationship to state authorities was far more complicated than simply that of becoming cogs in po liti cal machines. In the pre- colonial period, the state had less control over the actions of either side than it did during the colonial years.

As a result, in relation to the state and in relation to each other, Japa nese and Korean Buddhists had considerable latitude in making decisions that were in their own best interests. Th is degree of agency will be made evident in the new narrative history this book sets forth.

All of these factors, in addition to an awareness of po liti cal ideology, had a tremendous impact on how Buddhists from the two countries acted, how they saw themselves, and how they used various discourses to achieve their aims. Which factor superseded others was contingent upon complex social, po liti cal, and economic situations in Korea, Japan, and the rest of the world.

Th Eoretical Perspective

Th e central argument of this book— that Korean and Japa nese Buddhists were able to exert their own interests, visions, and strategies in the context of national, colonial, and modern forces— is based on theoretical frameworks proposed by a number of post- colonial and cultural studies scholars. In examining Orientalism as it relates to the Buddhist religion specifi cally, Charles Hallisey criticizes Edwards Said’s defi nition by arguing that the relationship between the colonizer and colonized, between the West and the non- West, was not as one- dimensional as Said

Introduction 17

would have it. Rather, the relationship was based on a “transcultural mimesis” in which the colonized actively participated in the construction of the images of their tradition and religion. For example, Eu ro pe an Orientalist Rhys Davids (1843– 1922) had to hire local people, who presented their own religion as they wanted it to appear, something Davids could not control. Moreover, the colonized did not just determine their own repre sen ta tion but also confi gured the repre sen ta tion of the colonizer. Mary Louise Pratt goes so far as to argue that the entity of Eu rope was created not only by Eu ro pe ans but also by their colonies. Because of their racial, cultural, and historical commonality, the mimesis between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists, especially in the colonial setting, was intensifi ed, with each side continuously reinforcing— like two mirrors facing each other— religious, cultural, and national identities.

Th ese new theoretical frameworks help recover the overlooked creativity and agency of Korean and Japa nese Buddhism in the zones of cultural contact.

Th e emphasis on agency in this revised history is informed by Pierre Bourdieu’s elaboration of Weber and Foucault’s theories of discourse and power- relations. In par tic u lar, this study draws on Bourdieu’s so cio log ical terminology of habitus, capital, and fi eld as tools to better understand how social agents, namely Korean and Japa nese Buddhist clergy, endowed with diff erent dispositions (habitus), enter into the games of struggles for power and dominance in diverse fi elds or spaces (po liti cal, economic, religious, and others) with the capital or infl uence (economic, po liti cal, and symbolic) available to them. What makes Bourdieu’s socio log i cal concepts useful in explaining human relationships and decision making is his determination to overcome the binary mode of structure (objectivism) and action (subjectivism). Th ough it may seem impossible for social actors to overcome the structures of capital, fi eld,

18 Introduction

and habitus, for Bourdieu these constructions are not unchangeable. In making decisions, agents use the logic of practical strategies that accompany the altering of their activities in response to shifts of the social, religious, and po liti cal structures (in other words, the shifts of fi elds and their positions in these fi elds). He argues that this logic opens “more or less wide spaces of possibilities.” Th is does not mean that agents can be emancipated from all social structures, free of power- relations and personal dispositions. Rather, the central assertion of Bourdieu’s theory is that agents possess both the propensity (objectivism) and the aptitude to enter into the game with relative autonomy, and to play it with more or less success (subjectivism).

Bourdieu points out that religious leaders have a greater degree of agency than other social actors because they possess particularly signifi – cant symbolic capital. Th is capital is amply supported by doctrines that enable religious leaders to hold a monopoly on the matter of salvation and other spiritual issues. He argues that they are experts in “euphemization” who, using “religious language,” present their actions as purely spiritual and thus disconnected to potential personal and institutional profi t. He goes so far as to maintain that religious leaders are unaware of their true, underlying intentions and reproduce this “misrecognition” in the complex fi eld of human interactions. In such a way, Korean and Japa nese Buddhists deftly, though perhaps unconsciously, utilized symbolic, universalistic language, rituals, and repre sen ta tions to garner support from the court, offi cials, people, and each other.

Although Bourdieu’s theory does not explain the whole context of the intricate, unique interplay between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists, it

Introduction 19

is still useful to understanding what kinds of capital and habitus Japanese and Korean Buddhists had as they played the fi eld of Korea. Applying Bourdieu’s concepts draws out the way in which the shifts in Korea of the religious fi eld (the growing popularity of Christianity and new religions) and the po liti cal fi eld (the Sino- Japanese and Russo- Japanese wars, Korea becoming Japan’s protectorate, and annexation) compelled Korean Buddhists to incorporate diverse strategies to maximize their chance of winning. It also brings to light how, in their relationship with each other and with diff erent visions and expectations, Buddhists from each side adjusted themselves to, altered, and transformed their given structures, fi elds, and capital. Bourdieu’s concepts help reveal, in times of crisis or shifts of fi eld, what kinds of capital were available to Korean and Japa nese Buddhist communities in dealing with state authorities, and how they used their resources and euphemisms to legitimate and impose their own visions of Buddhism on each other.

Th us, Bourdieu’s construction, albeit limited, is instrumental in fl eshing out the way Korean and Japa nese Buddhists’ interests converged, diverged and reinforced each other. Th is examination will disrupt, fi rst and foremost, the monolithic structures of imperialism, nationalism, and colonialism as the primary mode of knowledge and decision making
(which themselves take on the dichotomy of subjectivism and objectivism) and thereby help recover the multiple voices and agendas of Korean and Japa nese Buddhists.

As implied by Bourdieu with respect to religious leaders, this book explores Buddhist sangha members’ thoughts and behavior with the assumption that, as Robert Buswell has noted in his discussion of Korean monks, “monks are, in short, perfectly ordinary people” with “their

20 Introduction

virtues and their vices, their preferences and aversions.” Likewise, the monastery and sectarian institutions have had, again in Buswell’s words,
“like any large social or ga ni za tion . . . varying interests and skills.”
Th is study applies the same understanding to Japa nese priests and institutions.

By incorporating these theoretical frameworks to reveal the multiplicity of human interaction, this study is by no means intent on undermining the accomplishments of previous scholarship, which has unearthed Japa nese Buddhism’s signifi cant role in Japan’s oppressive colonialism and imperialism and Korean Buddhism’s patriotic responses. Th ese have been important voices when Japan and Japa nese Buddhist sects had not yet fully faced their past. Yet, current scholarship should pay equal attention to the diverse responses of both the Korean and Japa nese sides. Th erefore, by applying theoretical concepts, recent interpretative approaches and methodologies, this book seeks to present the fi rst comprehensive study of the multifaceted relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Sources

Most of the writing in this book is based on primary sources comprising pre- colonial and colonial- era Buddhist publications from both Korea and Japan. Japa nese scholars have largely overlooked Korean primary

Introduction 21

sources, while Korean academics have yet to fully integrate Japa nese primary archives into their work.

On the Japa nese side, I drew from the Kyōgaku hōchi newspaper
(shūhō), which began in 1877 and, astonishingly, has been running continuously ever since. It is one of the oldest Buddhist newspapers in Japan
(the name changed to Chūgai nippō in 1902). Although the articles were written from the perspective of the Higashi Honganji sect, the newspaper carried diverse perspectives and provides a comprehensive view of how Japa nese Buddhists interacted with Korean and other Asian Buddhists. It also reported on the activities of Christian missionaries in China and Korea, revealing not only a lot about Christian missionary work itself but also how Japa nese Buddhists felt about it. In addition, other denominational newspapers and journals— specifi cally, those published in Japan such as Shinshū (Ōtani Honganji), Jōdo kyōhō (Jōdo sect),
Nisshū shinpō (Nichiren sect), Kyōkai ichiran (Honpa Honganji), and Sōtōshū shūhō (Sōtō sect)— and those published in colonial Korea such as Chōsen Bukkyō, Kongō, and Shin’yū,), as well as personal letters, biographies, and diaries provide an insider’s look at the motivations and experiences of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries in Korea. Takeda’s collected letters, diaries, and writings, on microfi lm under the title Kōchū iseki, which include letters written by the key Wfnjong fi gures, provide the basis for my biography of his Buddhist missionary work and for the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance. Th is book also takes up Takeda’s untranslated treatise Enshū rokutai ron (Th e Treatise of the Sixth Truths for the Wfnjong).

On the Korean side, in addition to the two key compilations on Korean Buddhism— Yi Ngnghwa’s Comprehensive History of Korean Buddhism (Chosfn Pulgyo t’ongsa) and Takahashi Tōru’s Korean Buddhism
(Richō Bukkyō)— I rely on a collection of sixty- nine volumes of Buddhist journals published from 1911 to 1945 (Han’guk kgn-hyfndae Pulgyo charyo chfnjip). Th ese journals are the most comprehensive of Korean Buddhist sources. Daily secular newspapers such as the Hwangsfng sinmun, Tongnip sinmun, Taehan maeil sinbo (later Maeil sinbo), Tonga ilbo, and Chosfn

22 Introduction

ilbo illuminate Korean Buddhism in the context of the broader history of late nineteenth- and early twentieth- century Korea, while also providing some direct reporting on Buddhist issues at the time. Th is book also draws on unpublished government documents in the Korean and Japanese languages, personal biographies and diaries, and temple documents. In places, En glish sources written and published by Western missionaries, travelers, and diplomats as they relate to Korean Buddhism serve as references. Th ese materials provide ample perspective on the situation of Korean Buddhism and on local relationships between missionaries and Buddhist monks.

When examining a par tic u lar event, I have looked at what both the Korean and Japa nese sources had to say about it. Th is parallel pro cessing has provided fresh insight into how each side saw matters, and where views converged and diverged. However, my writing here does not capture the depth of what is revealed by these resuscitated sources, and I
hope that scholars will return to these volumes to further their own writing.

While this book retains a focus on Korea exclusively, it is nonetheless useful in understanding the relationship between Japa nese Buddhism and the Buddhisms of Taiwan, China, and other Asian countries. Of all the countries Japa nese Buddhists performed missionary work in, their most dynamic and intertwined relationship was with Korean Buddhism. In this way, understanding the dimensions of the JapaneseKorean Buddhist relationship can create a framework for interpreting other relationships.

Introduction 23 Th E Question: Who Benefi Ted More?

Just as we can complicate the historiography of this period by including multiple discourses, so too can the end result be understood in more complex terms. Many scholars have averred that Japa nese Buddhism contributed nothing to the benefi t of Korean Buddhism and, worse, did much to harm it. In this version of events, Korean Buddhists were powerl ess to stop the invasion of Japa nese Buddhism. Th is conclusion makes sense from the point of view of a po liti cal agenda, in that Japa nese Buddhists worked as the vanguards of Japan’s colonial expansion and were instrumental one way or another to Japan’s complete annexation of Korea in 1910. But when new interpretive frameworks are used, does this conclusion still stand? At the dusk of the pre- colonial period, and after thirty- fi ve years of substantial contact, it is interesting to ask which side benefi ted more from the relationship: Korean Buddhism or Japa nese Buddhism.

In the late nineteenth century, Buddhism in East Asia faced unpre cedented challenges. Th e forces of Eu ro pe an colonialism, the rise of nationstates, modernization, and the surprising success of Christian missionaries, among other factors, tested Buddhism’s status as a cultural foundation and a quasi state religion. In Japan, the Meiji government initially sought to dismantle Buddhism, which spurred Buddhist leaders to quickly modernize and reformulate its relevance. Th is reformation was suffi –
ciently successful such that by the late 1800s the Meiji government appointed Japa nese Buddhist institutions as key players in transforming Japan into a modern nation- state and in furthering colonial exploits.

During this same period, Korean Buddhism found itself in a very diff erent set of circumstances. Because the Neo- Confucian Chosfn dynasty had marginalized Korean Buddhism for centuries, by the dawn of the pre- modern period Buddhist monasticism was largely considered one of the lowest status groups in society. Although Korean Buddhism showed some signs of recovery in the late nineteenth century, few reformers considered Korean Buddhism as a means for creating a modern state. Moreover, as the Korean imperial government’s ability to control national aff airs slipped, Christian missionaries and new religions enjoyed a rapid expansion, further hindering a Buddhist response to social and po liti cal changes.

In comparing Korean and Japa nese Buddhism at the turn of the twentieth century, an editorial appearing in a publication by Methodist missionaries in Korea said:

Chapter 1

Th e Buddhism of Korea is very diff erent from that of Japan. In [Japan, Buddhism] is on a higher social plane than [in Korea] and men of infl uence give it both moral and fi nancial support. Representatives of [Japa nese Buddhism] travel to diff erent parts of the world and visit its other branches and so a certain degree of fellowship and rapport has been established; but in Korea the extremely low social status of Buddhism and its po liti cal insignifi cance would not warrant or encourage any eff orts to arouse enthusiasm along such lines.

Th is Western writer, although generalizing a bit, correctly observed that Japa nese Buddhism had better standing in society than did Korean Buddhism, that it enjoyed broader contact with the Buddhism of other countries, and that Korean Buddhism was in such an impoverished state that it could not match Japa nese Buddhist missionary eff orts. Th e disparity in social, economic, and po liti cal status between Korean and Japanese Buddhism undergirded the way each side saw itself in relation to the other, thus profoundly infl uencing the way each dealt with the other.

Understanding the social and po liti cal context in which Korean and Japa nese Buddhism found themselves by the late nineteenth century helps explain why each side was compelled to seek out the other. Th is chapter goes into some depth on the history of Korean and Japa nese Buddhism just before and into the early modern period. It is essential to understand this background because both pre- colonial Korean monks and Meiji Japa nese priests themselves knew this history as well, and it fundamentally shaped their identity and self- perception. Although the following contains a great amount of detail, and in places these details may seem extraneous, all that is discussed here has implications for later events discussed in subsequent chapters.

Korean Buddhism

During the Koryf dynasty (918– 1392), kings and aristocrats provided considerable support to Buddhism through gifts of tax- free land and servants, through patronizing rituals and festivals, and by building and

renovating temples. Monastics enjoyed high positions within the court and acted as masters and teachers to rulers, making Buddhism a de facto state religion, and cities abounded with temples, ceremonies, and festivals. As a result, at the peak of Koryf Buddhism, one- third of all adults were either monastics, servants, or tied to temples in some form, and temples accounted for one- sixth of land own ership in Korea. Koryf Buddhist monks competed equally with civil servants over resources and were immune to the whims of central and local offi cials. With these politi cal, economic, and social privileges, becoming a monastic during this period was considered one of the best avenues of social mobility. Temples, for their part, became not only the center of religion in Korea but also the hotbed of power, money, and connections. By the end of the Koryf period, the numbers of temples (estimated to be between two thousand and three thousand) and monastics (nearly a hundred thousand) increased so greatly that the court could not keep up with funding them, and this brought the state to the brink of bankruptcy.

Some temples turned to supporting themselves by selling artifacts, stationery, and even alcohol. Many temple servants, who far outnumbered monastics, cultivated arable fi elds owned by temples and produced goods that generated income. Some wealthy temples even had their own lending and fi nancing businesses, while some monks became involved in foreign trade. Th e expansion of Koryf Buddhism’s economic and po litical power, and the extravagant Buddhist feasts and rituals held by courts, caused offi cials and intellectuals to blame Buddhism for the deterioration of the state’s fi nances and the moral degeneration of the clergy.

Buddhism had its own troubles: many avoided taxes and military ser vice by becoming monastics, thereby lowering the quality of the sangha.

Th ese brewing problems, which intensifi ed during the late Koryf period, led to a backlash against Buddhism upon the establishment of the

Chosfn dynasty. Chosfn offi cials were staunchly Neo- Confucian, and they believed that any attempt by the king to support Buddhism would lead to the same national disaster that had occurred in the Koryf dynasty, identifi ed as a “Buddhist age.” Th us, one of the Chosfn dynasty’s most urgent statecraft programs was, as James Palais has put it, the
“physical and religious obliteration of Buddhism.” Th is led to a policy known as sung’yu fkpul, or “revering Confucianism and suppressing Buddhism,” which endured throughout the fi ve hundred years of the dynasty. Neo- Confucian literati redefi ned Buddhism as heterodox and pushed for stripping Buddhism of its economic and po liti cal resources. Although the complete eradication of Buddhism was not the intention of all Neo- Confucian offi cials, the paradigm shift hit Buddhism hard.

Despite a number of attempts by Buddhists to push back, anti- Buddhist policies and sentiments persisted even when the Korean state was disintegrating in the late years of the Chosfn dynasty.

As much as Neo- Confucian offi cials wished it, persecution of Buddhism did not begin immediately upon the Chosfn’s establishment.

King T’aejo (r. 1392– 1398), the founding father of Chosfn, was a devout Buddhist himself. More importantly, because the coup bringing him to power had been supported by some groups of monks, he could not fully implement the radical reshaping of the religious landscape proposed by court offi cials and other staunch Neo- Confucian literati. However, in 1405, during the reign of King T’aejong (r. 1400– 1418), the third king of the Chosfn, systematic oppression commenced, stripping the sangha of its po liti cal, economic, and religious support. King T’aejong set forth

policies to decrease the number of sects (from eleven to seven), temples, and monastics; confi scate temple lands and convert them to state ownership; reassign temple servants to be military soldiers; abolish the positions of State Protector and King’s Teacher; make stricter rules for the system providing certifi cation for monks; and abolish royal memorial temples (wfndang or wfnch’al ). After disestablishing thousands of temples, a mere 242 offi cial temples were allowed to remain. Th e fi rst policy was designed to weaken cultural and po liti cal infl uence, while the second, third, and sixth policies were to deprive Buddhism of an economic basis by reallocating temple properties and human resources. Th e fourth and fi fth policies were to minimize the bureaucratic ranking given to the clergy through the state- administered exam that provided novices with certifi cation as fully ordained monastics.

King Sejong (r. 1418– 1450), the inventor of the Korean alphabet, furthered anti- Buddhist policies. First, he merged the seven sects into two
(the Sfn [Jp. Zen] and Kyo [Sutra Study]), each with sixteen temples.

Second, he abolished all but two temples, Chasuwfn and Insuwfn (also called Anirwfn, Chfngfbwfn, or Naebultang), which were nunneries, inside the gates of Seoul. Th ird, he prohibited monks from entering the four gates of Seoul. Th ese steps were intended to physically and symbolically alienate the Buddhist clergy and keep Buddhist institutions from occupying any signifi cant part of the cultural, po liti cal, and economic center, particularly in the capital city. Finally, the Chosfn state

strictly prohibited Korean monks from crossing the border to China, which was strongly favorable to Buddhism, and anyone who violated this was subject to capital punishment.

Intense anti- Buddhist sentiments were briefl y lifted during the late term of King Sejong, who had become partial to Buddhism, and the reign of King Sejo (r. 1456– 1468), who called himself “the protector of the Buddha.” However, King Sfngjong resumed anti- Buddhist policies, but he was later followed by the Yfnsan’gun (r. 1495– 1506), the tenth ruler of Chosfn, who was relatively amenable to Buddhism in the early period of his rule due to his grandmother’s infl uence. Unfortunately for Buddhists, in the tenth year of his rule, 1505, Yfnsan’gun abolished the state- administered monk’s exam (toch’ fpche). NeoConfucian scholars had long demanded doing away with this exam, which was the last religious, po liti cal, and social thread through which monks were conferred with any offi cial status. Since becoming an abbot depended on passing this state exam and receiving approval from the king, even the conventionally respected position of abbot now had no bureaucratic standing. Th is bureaucratic standing was now unavailable and, thus, newly ordained monastics had no legal recognition for their vocation. Worse, Yfnsan’gun disestablished the remaining two sects altogether, taking away all the servants and temple properties. Korean Buddhism was offi cially disowned by the state and left with no institutional repre sen ta tion.

Th ere was a short- lived revitalization of Buddhism in the seventeenth century. Regent Queen Munjfng (1501– 1565), working with the prominent Sfn monk Hfgngdang Pou (1509?– 1565), was determined to resuscitate Buddhism, but she was unable to overturn policies that had become deeply embedded in the government. After her death, Pou was banished to the Cheju Island and soon stoned to death by the Magistrate Pyfnhyfp (1528– 1590) there. Korean Buddhism continued to decline over the following centuries. Th e remaining two nunneries inside the four walls, the last bastions at the capital’s center and spared by King Sejong, were permanently disestablished during the reign of the eighteenth king, Hyfnjong (r. 1659– 1674). For the fi rst time in the history of Korean Buddhism, no temple existed within the four walls of the capital city. It was only after Japan’s colonization of Korea that a Buddhist temple returned to the inner capital, in 1911. While it may not seem especially important to contemporary Buddhists that Buddhism receive patronage and protection from a government, for pre- modern Buddhists it was the source of legitimacy and social standing. In fact, legal standing had signifi cant implications regarding property, court decisions, and fi nances.

Th roughout the Chosfn dynasty, Buddhist monks largely accepted the shift in po liti cal and religious structures. Th ey held no massive protests against the court and yangban (aristocrats) nor signifi cantly resisted these anti- Buddhist policies in a way that would compel the government to modify its policies. If anything, monks found a way to accommodate these changes and worked to ingratiate themselves with rulers. For example, several prominent monks, such as Hamhf Kihwa
(1376– 1433) and Pou, wrote essays emphasizing the unity of Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism. Yet they did not challenge the government’s anti- Buddhist policies fully: they merely argued that, for the sake of preserving stability and harmony in Korea, Buddhism should not be excluded from society.

Of course, there were several cases in which monks tried to subvert the court throughout the Chosfn dynasty. Due to their status as out-

casts and with an ambiguous monastic- yet- layperson identity, Buddhist monastics joined many peasant revolts and insurrections, including the Hongyfngnae rebellions of 1812, which had been infl uenced by Buddhist prophetic teachings. To defend their faith, monks or ga nized a secret society called “monks’ group” (tangch’wi) and led counterattacks against Confucians who ransacked temples and harassed monastics. During the late nineteenth century, monastics were also members of bands of armed peasants (Hwalbindang, or, Poor Livelihood Party), the radical reform party Kaehwadang (the Enlightenment or Reform Party), the Tonghak rebellions (Tonhangnan), the Advancement Society
(Ilchinhoe), and the anti- Japanese army (gibyfng). However, monastic participation in these movements was neither great in number nor a unifi ed response to Chosfn discrimination against the sangha.

Mutual Accommodation And Codependence

Th ough by the middle of the Chosfn dynasty Buddhism had been completely delegitimized, an important event took place in the late 1500s that signifi cantly shifted the relationship between the state and Buddhism. When the Japa nese general Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536– 1598) invaded Korea in 1592, the monk Sfsan Hyujfng (1520– 1604) raised a massive army of monks. Th is army, in collaboration with the Ming army, successfully fought off Hideyoshi’s armies, recovered the capital city, and escorted King Sfnjo (r. 1567– 1608) from exile back to the court in Seoul. When the war ended, the king dispatched Sfsan’s disciple Samyfng Yujfng (1544– 1610) as an envoy to Japan. He was to negotiate with the Shogunate Tokugawa Ieyasu (1542– 1616), who had emerged as the new po liti cal leader after Hideyoshi died. Samyfng stayed in a

temple and was visited by many Japa nese Buddhist priests eager to inquire about Buddhist practices in Korea. Samyfng later facilitated the return of 1,390 Korean captives to Korea.

Sending Samyfng as an envoy was a rather unique and strategic move on the part of the Chosfn government. Because it understood Japan as a Buddhist country, sending a Buddhist monk was appropriate and likely garnered a more favorable diplomatic result. Besides, for a millennium and throughout the Chosfn period, Japan sent its own monks to Korea for religious and diplomatic purposes. Even during the Imjin War (1592– 1598) between Korea and Japan, a number of Japa nese monks played crucial roles with Chosfn and Ming courts. Th us, the Chosfn government, in spite of its anti- Buddhist policies, had to reciprocate the Japanese practice of using Buddhist diplomats after Hideyoshi’s invasion.

Th is does not mean, however, that the Chosfn government granted offi cial recognition to Korean monks for their patriotic work. For example, the government made sure to downplay Samyfng’s status by sending him to Japan as an unoffi cial envoy.

Despite Sfsan and Samyfng’s contributions, Neo- Confucian offi –
cials’ negative view of Buddhist monks persisted, and those monastics who had played a crucial role in saving the country disarmed themselves and returned to the marginal space where they had been pushed. Aristocrats returned from exile and continued with anti- Buddhist policies and Neo- Confucian orthodoxy. Neo- Confucian orthodoxy was prevalent and deeply embedded in Chosfn society, though, as Eun- su Cho argues, it was “not a totalizing or monolithic entity.” Th e sangha accepted the Neo- Confucian hegemony with, as Robert Buswell writes, “reticence.”
Nevertheless, the monks’ pivotal role in the war of 1592 opened up the

idea to Neo- Confucian leaders that monks could be a resource to the state. With great caution, they compromised strict, anti- Buddhist policies in order to allow monks to be used for the military and other purposes.

During Hideyoshi’s invasion, the desperate court, seeking to inspire monks to fi ght, declared that it would confer monks’ certifi cates (toch’ fp)
and bureaucratic positions in return for killing Japa nese. King Sfnjo granted Sfsan and then Samyfng the military title General of the Sfn-Kyo of the Eight Provinces (P’alto Sfn Kyo Toch’ongsfp). Th is conferral caused an uproar among government offi cials, who feared that the “Sfn-Kyo” part of the title might indicate that the court was again sanctioning the establishment of a Buddhist institution, the disestablishment of which they had for so long fought. Th e offi cials petitioned the king to reduce the title to Supervisor (ch’ongsfp) and to remove “Sfn-Kyo” so that the position carried no po liti cal or religious implications. Fully aware that he had to placate his offi cials, King Sfnjo assured them that issuing certifi cates and giving “empty” positions to monks were just temporary incentives to motivate monks to acquire “heads of the Japa nese enemy.”
Th is strategy may have also reduced the possibility that military monks would use that same army to rise up against the government. After the success of the war, the court realized that monks made eff ective soldiers, and permanently assigned them to military positions and guard ser vices in major fortresses around the country. Th erefore, Korean Buddhism came to be known as a quasi- military institution. In exchange for these ser vices, monks received at least some degree of recognition from the state.

Using similar incentives, the king ordered monks to build fortresses in Seoul and other areas, resulting in the landmarks of Namhan Fortress, in 1626, and Pukhan Fortress, in 1711. Temples were established at these sites, as well: nine around Namhan Fortress and eleven nearby Pukhan Fortress. Th e “Buddhist military temple[s],” as an American

minister to Korea George Clayton Foulk (1856– 1893) called them, were stocked with weapons and fi rearms. Monks wore army suits by day and followed the monastic schedule in the morning and eve ning. Th us, monks were posted permanently as “national on- duty soldiers” (Kukka sangbigun) to protect the capital and the king. To keep the templefortresses running continuously, monks from around the country rotated ser vice at these sites for months at a time, often at their own expense and up to six times a year. Th e permanent staff of these temples were given the title of Supervisor (ch’ongsfp), refl ecting that given to Sfsan and Samyfng. Monk- soldiers were often the fi rst line of defense. For instance, over a hundred French marines landed on Kanghwa Island in 1866 to retaliate for the execution of Jesuit missionaries a few years earlier. Monk soldiers posted in the Buddhist monasteries of Kanghwa Fortress successfully defeated the French on their own. Th ere were many other similar fortresses that were built and managed by monastics and that were under direct control of the central government. According to the Atlas of Korea (Yfjidosf) compiled in 1757, there were thirty- nine fortresses and ninety- seven temples attached to them spread out across the country. Th ese ninety- seven temples represented about 6 percent of the approximately 1,530 Korean temples, and at any given time several thousand monastics lived in them. Non- fortress temples were also subject to responding to the military needs of the central and local governments.

In mid- Chosfn, to more eff ectively manage soldier monks, the court set up the Five Offi ces of Correction (o kyujfngso), meaning fi ve regional temples that would oversee other temples in their area. Th ree of the temples were Chunghgngsa at Pukhan Fortress, Kaewfnsa at Namhan Fortress, and Yongjusa at Suwfn Fortress. Th e other two temples were Pong’gnsa in northern Seoul and Pongsfnsa in southern Seoul, which represented the Sfn and Kyo orders, respectively. Th e fi ve temples’ primary

duty, as Korean scholar Kim Yfngt’ae points out, was simply “building and keeping fortresses.” Th ey supervised local temples inside and outside the fortresses continuously until the Kabo reforms of 1894. Even after that, the two temples in Seoul continued to act as head temples, and, as late as 1907, the prominent Korean monk Hong Wflch’o (1858–
1934) worked as a military- monastic. Despite the imperial Korean government’s eff orts to abolish the obligation of monks to fulfi ll military duties, the practice did not entirely cease until Japan laid a decisive ruling hand on Korea in 1910.

Monks were also mobilized to work on major state projects, such as building bridges, as well as for manufacturing stationery and performing mortuary ser vices, a unique development in the Chosfn period unseen in the previous dynasties. Th ese monks were termed “statepayless- on- duty laborers” (mubosu kukka sangbi nodongja). A good example of how this worked is seen in one of the last state projects of the Chosfn dynasty. In 1865, the Taewfn’gun (1820– 1898), the regent of King Kojong, drafted monks to work on reconstructing Kyfngbok Palace in an eff ort to strengthen the image of the royal family. During the fi ve- month construction, monks were permitted to enter the four gates of central Seoul. In return, they were granted monks’ certifi cates that gave them tacit legal status. Whenever monks began to grumble about the burden of their work, the government granted them stipends, which discouraged monks from abandoning their duties. Th e promise of certifi cates, which legitimated their status to some small degree, motivated monks to work on state projects time and again.

Th us, after two centuries of marginalizing Buddhism, Neo- Confucian administrations developed a symbiotic relationship with monks. Th e

arrangement however favored the state. Moreover, this lopsided accommodation gradually blurred the identity of Korean monks from clergy to soldier and laborer. Th eir work for the state, which was shrewdly imposed to minimize government burdens on commoners and to restrict the number of monastics, further lowered the social status of monks. Serving in fortresses had the added eff ect of both putting monks at the disposal of the state and quarantining them from society. If monks could not fulfi ll a request from the state, they had to pay money. Long gone was the idea that becoming a monk could be an avenue of social and po liti cal mobility and that it would exempt one from compulsory military ser vice and taxes. Th e only way Chosfn monastics could escape paying taxes, serving in the military, or being a laborer was if they disappeared from society by becoming hermits deep in the mountains. Yet, because monks were fully integrated into the productive life of society, yet denied a legitimate social status, monks came to be thought of as one of the lowest social status groups of Korean society.

Survival Tactics

Marginalization led to a drastic reduction in the number of temples and monastics. Toward the end of the Koryf period in the late fourteenth century, there were 2,286 temples in Korea, and, if unrecorded temples had been counted, the total would have reached upward to 3,000. In the subsequent Chosfn period, there were 1,658 temples in the fi fteenth century; 1,537 in the mid- eighteenth century; and 1,280 in 1910. In short, there were half as many temples by the end of the Chosfn dynasty than at the beginning. Th e decline in the number of monastics was more dramatic. By the end of the Koryf period there were approximately 100,000 monastics; by the mid- eighteenth century, 28,000; and by 1910, roughly

Table 1.1: Korean temples and monastics, 1912 Provinces Temples	Monks	Nuns
1. Kyfnggi- to	191	1,026	242
2. Ch’ungch’fngbuk- to	38	142	48
3. Ch’ungch’fngnam- to	79	299	249
4. Chfllabuk- to	99	313	72
5. Chfllanam- to	60	720	60
6. Kyfngsangbuk- to	177	1,342	68
7. Kyfngsangnam- to	94	1,531	104
8. Hwanghae- to	53	150	26
9. P’yfngannam- to	46	45	6
10. P’yfnganbuk- to	205	243	111
11. Kangwfn-to	132	712	88
12. Hamgyfngnam- to	81	243	59
13. Hamgyfngbuk- to	28	69	33
total	1,283	6,835	1,166
note: Surveys prior to 1912 exist, but they fail to include many temples.

note: Surveys prior to 1912 exist, but they fail to include many temples. source: Sōtokufu tōkei nenpyō (1912).

8,000. In short, less than one- tenth remained by the end of the Chosfn period. Th is reduction is even more striking when one considers that the population of Korea grew perhaps 2.5 times from the fi fteenth century to the early twentieth century, indicating that the percentage of Koreans who became monastic dropped as well.

Although Korean Buddhism’s strength was paltry in comparison to that of Buddhism in other countries, given the harsh social conditions Korean Buddhism had faced, it is remarkable that upon entering the modern period there were nonetheless more than a thousand temples

and nearly eight thousand monastics. Some temples and monastics were even able to accumulate signifi cant wealth.

Th e Korean sangha used several tactics during the Chosfn period that allowed Buddhism to survive. One traditional source of income, prayer ser vices and alms rounds, was sustained through the relationships that monastics fostered with laypeople. Monastics also would associate their temple with royal families, which both raised funds for the temple and helped it to avoid exploitation from the yangban.

For example, three major temples in southern Korea, Pfmf, Haein, and T’ongdo, managed to survive ruin as the result of their affi liation with court families.

Court ladies were especially drawn to supporting the renovation of dilapidated temples. Th ese connections further secured the sizable land holdings of temples, whose arable fi elds provided regular (if insuffi cient)
income. Temples containing archives of annals and other state documents and temples inside fortresses were also protected and fi nancially supported by central and local governments. Th is connection between temples and the court explains why a good number of temples remained intact by the late nineteenth century.

Another source of income for monastics came from providing food, entertainment, and accommodation to local offi cials. In return for these ser vices the temples received fi nancial and administrative favors. Temples of the late nineteenth century continued this practice and thus often functioned as restaurants, hotels, and resort areas, even frequently catering to Western Christian missionaries. While supplying handmade products to the court, which was part of their compulsory labor and taxes paid to the state, monks also sold their remaining goods— straw and hemp shoes, paper, and mountain fruits, vegetables, and other foods—at markets, which enabled them to make ends meet and even

accumulate some capital. Th ey also formed their own guilds through which they pooled their assets and rice, which in turn was used to support the temples. Without these survival strategies, Korean Buddhism, as it entered the late nineteenth century, would have been far weaker than it was.

Nonetheless, on the whole Korean Buddhists found themselves on the bottom rung of the social ladder with minimal fi nancial, educational, social, and po liti cal resources. Imagine, then, the impression that Japa nese Buddhist priests made when they arrived in Korea in the late 1800s. Th ey had fi ne robes and ample fi nancial backing. Th ey had modern educations and certainly weren’t living in fortresses or doing hard labor. Some Japa nese high priests were clearly at the top of the social ladder, receiving the respect of Japa nese businessmen and politicians. Th ey even were able to stride through the gates of central Seoul and visit with members of the Korean court and government offi cials! Th erefore, it is no wonder that Korean monks were in awe upon witnessing the relatively infl uential status of Japa nese missionary priests such as Okumura Enshin of the Higashi Honganji, Katō Bunkyō and Sano Zenrei (1859– 1912) of the Nichirenshū, Inoue Genshin (1861– 1913) of the Jōdoshū, Ōtani Hōdō of the Nishi Honganji, and Takeda Hanshi of the Sōtōshū.

It did not take Korean monks long to conclude that Japan was a Buddhist country, although this was untrue in reality, and that the Japa nese priests had exactly the opposite social status to their own. Bearing this impression in mind, it is less surprising that Korean monks, feeling kinship with Japa nese priests through the shared tradition of Buddhism, turned to them for fi nancial, educational, and po liti cal resources that could help change the station of Korean Buddhism for the better.

Reinterpreting Choso˘N Buddhism

Scholars have recently reevaluated the conventional characterization of Chosfn monastics and temples as inactive, socially debased, eco nom ical ly bankrupt, confi ned to mountainous areas, and lacking contact with society. Th ey have provided convincing evidence to the contrary: the continuous infl uence of Buddhist faith and rituals among the populace, the

faith of royal families and some Confucian offi cials along with their support of temple construction and renovations, and the popularization of Soˇn meditation and chanting (yfmbul ) practices among both lay and monastic associations. Scholars point out that most conspicuously, by the time Korea was forcibly opened to the outside world by Japan in 1876, Buddhism had emerged as an alternative ideology among the fi rst generation of Korean reformers as a way to strengthen a country on the verge of collapse. All things considered, despite these developments highlighted in this reevaluation of Chosfn Buddhism, Korean Buddhism at the dawn of the modern period nevertheless was so depleted in social, economic, and po liti cal capital that it was slow to respond to the tectonic shifts in Korean society and was unable to signifi cantly infl uence po liti cal and social issues of the day.

First, scholars argue that, although it is undeniable that the public marginalization of Buddhism in the Chosfn period was unpre ce dented in the history of Korean Buddhism, the religion continued to be followed by the populace in more private ways. Buddhism had taken root over the course of a thousand years preceding the Chosfn dynasty and thus was deeply embedded in people’s spiritual lives. A series of antiBuddhist policies would not easily turn people completely away from Buddhism for both this- worldly and other- worldly concerns. NeoConfucianism fell short of addressing spiritual needs as its tenets were primarily ethical, educational, and po liti cal. Whether people were yangban or commoners, both frequented temples for prayers and rituals, as well as during major Buddhist festivals such as memorial ser vices, midsummer festivals (Paekchung or Obon in Japa nese), or the Buddha’s birthday. It was a custom to visit temples, even if one did not consider oneself a Buddhist. Scholars note that a series of wars in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries that incurred massive deaths and casualties drove many bereaved to seek out temples in order to memorialize the dead and fi nd consolation. Th is close relationship between the populace and Buddhist clergy is refl ected in the fact that people regularly

donated rice or money to temples for renovation and new construction. Moreover, house holders continued to support monks on their alms’ rounds.

Second, despite the pervasive anti- Buddhist policies that gradually disestablished Buddhist sects and curtailed doctrinal study and practice, the monastic tradition continued with its own educational and training system (though at times it was loose and disor ga nized). Toward the end of the nineteenth century, for example, there were vigorous debates on Sfn practice. A number of chanting and meditation associations were established around the country, and there was rise in popularity of meditation practice among some literati in Seoul. Among those responsible for the resurgence of Sfn was the eminent master Kyfnghf Sfng’u (1849–
1912), from whom more than half of all contemporary Korean monastics are said to derive their lineage. Korean Buddhists today see Kyfnghf as the revitalizer of modern Korean Sfn Buddhism because he rekindled the “Sfn lineage” (sfnp’ung). Th e point is that Korean Buddhism in the late nineteenth century had to have had some vitality to produce a master of this greatness. Th ird, kings, queens, court ladies, Neo- Confucian offi cials, and yangban all continued to turn to Buddhism for their religious needs. Despite vehement protests on the part of Neo- Confucian literati, most Chosfn kings funneled resources to the wfndang and had monastics pray for the sake of their court family and the country. For example, King Hyfnjong, the eigh teenth ruler of Chosfn, who disestablished the last remaining nunneries within the four gates of Seoul, did not mind building a number of wfndang to commemorate the deaths of his mother, daughters, and other family members. Likewise, King Kojong built a number of wfndang,
including Suguksa, Pongwfnsa, and Wfnhgngsa, in the early 1900s.

Nearly all the Chosfn kings, queens, and court ladies kept deep allegiances to Buddhism and supported temples fi nancially, and some took tonsure in their late age. Some Neo- Confucian offi cials and literati, such

as Kim Sisgp (1435– 1493), Hf Kyun (1569– 1618), Kim Chfngho (1804?–
1866?), and Hf Wi (1854– 1908) to name a few, took great interest in Buddhist doctrine and practice and deepened their understanding of Buddhism through amicable relationships with monastics.

Lastly and most importantly, in the mid- and late nineteenth century the fi rst generation of reformers seeking to modernize Korea, often termed the Kaehwadang (the Enlightenment or Reform Party) and consisting of yangban, chungin (technical experts), and Buddhist monks themselves, formed their progressive programs at monasteries through studying Buddhist texts, among others. Th us, scholars have characterized this period as the emergence of “lay Buddhism” and “the sprout of modern
[Korean] Buddhism.” Although the Kaehwadang’s po liti cal programs ended after a failed coup in 1884 and consequently all these reformers were jailed, killed, or exiled, the fact that Buddhism inspired the reforms is taken as a sign that Buddhism was returning to the center of politics and was considered a viable religion for a new Korea.

Th ese pieces of evidence challenge the view held by conventional scholarship that Chosfn Buddhism was nearly moribund. Contemporary scholarship is providing a much richer, more complex understanding of Buddhism in this period. At the same time, Chosfn Buddhism was greatly handicapped at the dawn of the modern period. For example, although the populace still turned to Buddhism for apotropaic needs, most temples, save a handful near Seoul, were situated deep in the mountains, away from society and hard to access. Nearly all Korean Buddhist reformers attributed this physical marginalization as a major obstacle to reforming and modernizing Korean Buddhism. For this reason, Buddhist reformers used the slogan “from the mountains to the cities,” meaning that monks needed to return to urban environments, throughout the precolonial and colonial periods. Th is updated picture downplays the crippling eff ect of the ban on monks entering the four gates of central Seoul, which cut Korean Buddhism off from access to politics, economy, culture, education, and power. Furthermore, government offi cials forced monks to pay taxes, perform compulsory labor, and respond to extor-

tion. On top of that, temples became used for secular purposes. Hendrick Hamel, a Westerner who lived in Korea from 1653 to 1666 after a shipwreck, writes:
Th e well to- do often go to a monastery to spend their leisure time. Th ese [monasteries] are pleasantly situated in the mountains and between the trees. Th ey often take whores with them to amuse themselves, and drink often a lot of strong alcoholic drinks, so that many a monastery looks more like a brothel or a cheap joint than a place where one can repent.

Th is situation worsened in the late nineteenth century as the central government lost its control over the country.

A vivid example of what life was like for monks during the late Chosfn dynasty can be glimpsed in the biography of one of the leading nationalists in Korea, Kim Ku (1876– 1949). Kim, who was a monk for a brief period (1888– 1889), writes that soon after ordination he visited Seoul but found himself prohibited from entering the four gates. As he traveled across the country, local yangban and even commoners harassed him. Yangban would visit his small temple near Seoul expecting him to prepare food, fi nd entertainment, and provide accommodation. But Kim mistakenly thought that his status as the abbot placed him in a high position and would exempt him from serving them. Fearing punishment, he writes that he reluctantly served a group of visiting yangban.

A Canadian missionary, James Scarth Gale (1863– 1937), corroborated the treatment monks like Kim Ku received, writing in his 1909 book that “the Confucianist uses the lowest and most disrespectful forms of speech to the Buddhist wherever he meets him.”
As for the strong support of some kings, court families and ladies, it is true that the court continued to sponsor Buddhism, and that often kings overruled the demand of staunch Neo- Confucian literati that the ruler should disassociate himself from Buddhism. Th e king was often pressed on one side by queens and court ladies to support Buddhism.

But he was also pressed on the other side by offi cials and yangban to adhere to Neo- Confucian ideology. For example, King Sejong, though known for the numerous anti- Buddhist policies enacted during his reign, personally favored Buddhism: he was reluctant to be as harsh on Buddhism as Confucian offi cials wished, but he also could not let it seem like his personal beliefs led to favoritism. Whenever a king showed a sign of easing an anti- Buddhist stance, he was bombarded with petitions from Neo- Confucians offi cials, scholars, and students. Yet, whenever harsh anti- Buddhist policies were about to be implemented, the queens and court families sought a stay. However, in most cases, kings had to side with the demands of the literati, who naturally had more infl uence in government than did queens and ladies. Th us, on the whole, the Chosfn dynasty continued to marginalize Buddhism and promote Neo- Confucian orthodoxy.

Th e suggestion that literati who either sympathized with or practiced Buddhism had an impact on the king must be taken with a grain of salt. It is true that sizeable numbers considered Buddhism as spiritual and religious home. Th ose who had lost their family members or felt despair found solace in the monastic life. Some yangban spent a signifi cant amount of time at monasteries studying sutras, chanting, and practicing meditation, and some established deep friendships with masters. However, these relationships remained rather personal and private because many of these yangban were in exile or had been removed from their offi cial positions. Besides, while often critical of the narrow interpretations of Neo- Confucianism, they did not challenge the anti- Buddhist policies of the Chosfn dynasty, which indicates that even those literati sympathetic with Buddhism took the social and po liti cal marginalization of the Buddhist sangha as a given reality and did not seek to overturn it.

Similarly, the revitalization of Sfn and other devotional practices in the late Chosfn dynasty should not be given too much emphasis. As Han Sanggil has indicated, the resurgence of interest in Buddhist practices

remained at a small scale and did not develop into a major religious movement that could overcome anti- Buddhist policies. For example, Kyfnghf, mentioned before as the revitalizer of Korean Sfn, established a score of retreat centers and chanting associations around the country, which stimulated the Buddhist sangha and attracted lay people. Yet, he vowed to never visit Seoul because the city’s constant fi ghting and ethos of greed disgusted him. However, as Chfng Kwangho points out, it was typical that to avoid “extortion and discrimination,” serious practitioners lived in hermitages untouched by outsiders. Even so, this iconic Buddhist suddenly disappeared in 1904, deliberately garbed in a Confucian robe, and never returned to the temple. For this reason, Satona Suzuki argues that Kyfnghf’s initiatives, while a sign of the renewal of Sfn and devotional practices, “did not have a big impact on the Korean sangha as a whole.”

Assessing The Impact Of Early Reformers

Th e historiography of early modern Korean Buddhism tends to draw on the fact that early Korean reformers were Buddhist as evidence that Korean Buddhism was on the verge of modernizing itself before the Japanese Buddhists interfered. Likewise, contemporary historians point to these reformers’ Buddhism as a reason to say that Chosfn Buddhism was less impoverished as conventional narratives say it was. While it is important to provide balance to the view that Chosfn Buddhism was completely on the periphery by showing the ways in which it entered the center, the idea has limitations. Of course, the scholars presenting this updated view are fully aware of the realities of Chosfn Buddhism.

At the same time, some discussion on the relationship between early reformers and Buddhism is needed here. Th is section takes a close look at the Buddhism of early reformers to show that their primary aim was po liti cal, that Buddhism was a useful means to an end, and that reformers were not seeking to elevate Korean Buddhism itself. It is important to understand the place of Buddhism for these reformers because later

Korean Buddhist monks, attempting to lead reforms for Korean Buddhism itself, did not see these Korean po liti cal reformers as realistic allies. Rather, Japa nese Buddhist priests, who were interested in advancing Buddhism as a modern religion, had a vision that was more closely aligned with Korean Buddhist monks’ vision.

Without doubt, the fi rst generation of Korean reformers was closely associated with Buddhism (this was also the case in China). It included yangban such as Yu Taech’i (1831–?), Sf Kwangbfm (1859– 1897), Kim Okkyun (1851– 1894), and Pak Yfnghyo (1861– 1939). A number of Korean monks were also involved, most notably Yi Tong’in (1850?– 1881) from the T’ongdo temple (or Pfmfsa). Yi is considered by scholars as the fi rst
“enlightenment monk,” as well as the fi rst Korean modernizer, and was acclaimed as Korea’s “Yoshida Torajirō” (or Yoshida Shōin, 1830– 1859) by the newspaper Chōya shinbun (Capital and County News). Yi, a former Confucian yangban (sfsaeng), played an essential role in mediating between Japa nese intellectuals, such as Fukuzawa Yukichi (1835– 1901), and Korean reform- minded leaders. Yi gained the support of King Kojong, assumed a high military post, and was instrumental in negotiating a diplomatic relationship between Korea and America.

But, did reformers like Yi and others who claimed affi nity to Buddhist ideas think that their po liti cal work was directed toward the revitalization of Buddhism itself? Th ough the Korean scholar Yi Ngnghwa goes so far as to say that their radical po liti cal programs were an eff ort to
“apply Buddhist teachings to secular law,” contemporary historian Chfng Kwangho disagrees. Chfng points out that it is unclear to what extent some of the leading reformers, Buddhist elites, and monks envisioned their ideal nation in Buddhist terms. Likewise, it is doubtful that these leaders related their reforms directly to promoting Korean Buddhism as an alternative state ideology to Neo- Confucianism. Rather, identifying as Buddhist gave Korean reformers the advantage of creating connections to Japa nese politicians and infl uential priests from Japan, many of whom were Buddhist themselves. Buddhism, as Pori Park argues, “became a religion of the privileged.” Th is tendency to identify as Buddhist in order to partner with Japa nese started in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and intensifi ed during the colonial era.

During this pre- colonial period, as Japan’s infl uence in Korea was increasing, associating with Japa nese Buddhism could advance one po litically and create other opportunities, whether one was a true Buddhist or not. Many Korean intellectuals after the Sino- Japanese and RussoJapanese wars approached infl uential Japa nese Buddhist priests. For example, being a Buddhist or identifying as such helped Kim Okkyun and Pak Yfnghyo go to Japan under the pretext of studying Buddhism at the Higashi Honganji, a pretext that was noticed by Japa nese priests. Revitalizing Korean Buddhism was not a priority for Kim, who identifi ed himself as Buddhist. For example, the fact that he had two Korean monks serve him as cooks casts doubt on the idea that he envisioned elevating the social status of monks and thereby Buddhism. Another

contemporary Confucian intellectual, Kang Wi (1820– 1884), whom Yi Tong’in admired as his mentor, was fond of Buddhist philosophy but loathed Buddhist monks because he considered them lazy and ignorant.

As a result, Kang Wi disregarded the idea of becoming ordained.

Another major fi gure in the early eff orts to reform Korea, Pak Yfnghyo, also associated with Buddhism out of con ve nience. During his exile in Japan after the abortive coup of 1884, Pak, deploring his dire situation, wrote to Okumura Enshin’s sister Okumura Ioko (1845– 1907) in March 1891 expressing the desire to become a Higashi Honganji priest. Th e Higashi Honganji did not accept Pak however because administrators felt that his motivations were not from sincere faith but more out of despair. Another piece of evidence that Pak did not prioritize Buddhism is that when Pak submitted a petition titled “Proposal for Eight Points of Urgent Reform” to King Kojong in 1888, he did not even mention Buddhism. Rather, he affi rms in it that Confucianism is the state religion of the Chosfn dynasty. Only after Pak became home minister of the pro- Japanese Korean cabinet, and had launched the Kabo reforms of 1894, did he work to include the lifting of the anti- Buddhist law through a set of miscellaneous reforms. Even then, Pak did not push seriously for this specifi c reform until Japa nese Buddhist missionaries applied pressure the following year. Even the contribution of Yi Tong’in, the fi rst Buddhist monk to work with reformers and who was closely allied with Okumura, was, as Vladimir Tikhonov observes, questionable, because of his lack of involvement in the cause of the Korean Buddhist community. In his meetings with Okumura, Yi frequently discussed the po liti cal situation of Korea but, according to Okumura’s diary, rarely talked about Buddhism.

In sum, these reformers’ faith in Buddhism stayed rather personal at best and stopped well short of becoming a public discourse. As a result, the situation for Korean Buddhism did not improve signifi cantly in the mid- to late 1800s, even though Korea as a whole was slowly moderniz-

ing itself and becoming more open to a diverse religious landscape. Th us, by the late 1800s, Korean Buddhist leaders saw greater possibility in joining hands with Japa nese Buddhist priests than with Korean reformers who called themselves Buddhists.

While Koreans who sought po liti cal reform found that affi liating with Buddhism was to their advantage, the case was just the opposite for Buddhist monks in the same period: being a Buddhist monk was a severe social handicap. Yi Tong’in, who had access to the palace, held a high governmental post, and met with King Kojong, was assassinated partly because he was a Buddhist monk. In short, the systematic marginalization of Korean Buddhism during the Chosfn dynasty had become so deeply internalized in Korean society that the social stigma of monks could not simply be wiped away with the social and po liti cal changes of the time.

In addition to this social stigma, because of the lack of human, economic, and po liti cal resources, it was diffi cult to reform and revitalize the Korean sangha. As Pori Park writes, even during the colonial period eff orts were largely unsuccessful. Except for some small signs of revival as discussed above, evidence suggests that while late nineteenth- century Korean Buddhism “survived one of the most intensive religious persecutions of all time,” it had nonetheless lost most of its po liti cal, economic, social, and cultural capital— capital that would have enabled it to reassert its infl uence in society at the same level it enjoyed in the Silla and Koryf periods.

For this reason, the priority of Korean monks in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was to break down anti- Buddhist structures and reinsert itself into the center of society, an eff ort that began in the late nineteenth century, continued into the colonial period, and persisted even in post- colonial de cades. To return to the center of society fi guratively, Korean Buddhists sought to return to the center literally.

Th ey envisioned establishing a legitimate Buddhist institution inside the

four gates of Seoul. However, those who directly challenged the Korean court on its anti- Buddhist policies, particularly the policy that kept Korean monks out of the center, were not Korean monastics but Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, whose intervention foreshadowed a new chapter for Korean Buddhism, for better or for worse.

Japa Nese Buddhism Anti- Buddhist Policies And Reincorporation

At the dawn of the Meiji era in 1868, Japa nese Buddhism faced outright threats to its existence from the government’s anti- Buddhist policies, Western knowledge, and Christianity. Th e privileges that it had enjoyed during the previous Edo period (1600– 1868) were altogether lost.

During the Edo period, Japa nese Buddhist priests and institutions enjoyed privileges and high standing in society. Temples benefi ted econom ical ly and po liti cally through the Temple Parishioner System (danka seido). Th e Certifi cates of Temple Registration (shūmon aratamechō) instituted by the Tokugawa shogunate in an attempt to suppress Christianity and other religions considered dangerous gave Edo Buddhism a monopoly on religion. Th e populace, and even the shogunate himself, was obligated to register with local temples as parishioners and to be fi – nancially responsible for supporting clergy through paying for funeral and memorial rites. In return, each year Buddhist priests issued certifi – cates that proved their parishioners were not affi liated with any religion but Buddhism. Th erefore, Buddhist priests exerted tremendous power over their parishioners, and were legitimated by the bakufu government. Th us, Edo Buddhism was indispensable to the state in controlling the people, and, for that role, its institutional, po liti cal, and economic benefi ts were guaranteed. Although Edo Buddhism is often stigmatized as degenerate, corrupt, and out of touch with people, at the very least one can say it was an integral part of Japa nese society: the over 100,000 temples at the beginning of the Edo period surpassed even the total number of villages in Japan.

In addition, Buddhist priests had superior standing over Shinto priests in all aspects. Like the rest of the populace, Shinto priests had to register their names with Buddhist temples and were forced to have Buddhist funerals. Th ey accepted but resented the dominance of Buddhist priests in rituals and administrative ranking. Th e Buddhists formulated and consolidated a theory that the Shinto kami were appearances of Buddhist divinities (suijaku), with the Buddha cast as the original form of divinity (honji). Except for a number of important shrines, for example, the Ise and Izumo, most Shinto shrines were considered lesser in rank to the Buddhist temples. Moreover, at the time of the Meiji Restoration there were 87,558 Buddhist temples to Shinto’s 74,642.

Th e power structure between Shinto and Buddhism underwent a sudden shift at the beginning of the Meiji period. Th e new Meiji regime separated Buddhism from the state, annulled all the previous religious policies that gave advantages to Buddhism, and elevated Shinto as the state religion. Overt anti- Buddhism began with the promulgation of the “separation of kami and Buddhas” (shinbutsu bunri) and escalated into widespread, national pillaging of Buddhist temples and artifacts, commonly termed by many Meiji Buddhists as “abolishing Buddhism and destroying the Teachings of Śākyamuni” (haibutsu kishaku). Th e antagonism of Shinto priests toward Buddhist priests that had been brewing for centuries erupted in violence that spread throughout Japan. Although exact statistics are not available, “[w]ithout doubt,” Martin Collcutt argues, “tens of thousands (perhaps hundreds of thousands) of Buddhist sutras, paintings, statues, temple bells and other objects were destroyed, stolen, lost, or sold during the years of disturbances and neglect.” AntiBuddhist policies continued for several years. Buddhist priests were ordered to laicize or become shrine priests. Th e Temple Parishioner System, the Certifi cates of Temple Registration, and funerals formerly monopolized by Buddhist priests now became the duties of the Shinto priests. Th e Meiji government also decriminalized the practice of clerical marriage

and eating meat (nikujiki saitai) through a new law promulgated on May 31, 1872 (this law was extended to nuns in 1873). Th e state had regulated Buddhist conduct during the Edo period, using punitive mea sures for violations. Th e lifting of this law was a clear indication to the early Meiji Buddhists that Buddhism as a de facto state religion had ended.

From the perspective of the Meiji regime, the state’s anti- Buddhist policies stemmed from the need to modernize and to build up a strong, resourceful Japan ( fukoku kyōhei) that could defend against growing threats from the West. A massive reshuffl ing of the old system was necessary, and Buddhism was considered a symbol of that feudal age. In 1869 the Meiji government recruited Shinto priests as missionaries (senkyōshi) to instill in citizens (kokumin kyōka) its new imperial ideology (kokutai) as well as to install Shinto as the state religion.

However, this radical change did not last long. Soon the Meiji oligarchs realized they had expected too much of the Shinto clergy. Shinto priests were in eff ec tive in disseminating state ideology because, unlike Buddhist priests, they lacked preaching experience. Moreover, the Shinto tradition did not have a clearly articulated theology that could lend itself to ideology. Lastly, internal fi ghting among Shinto factions slowed them down. State policy makers, feeling a sense of urgency to modernize and centralize Japan as quickly as possible, became disappointed by Shinto’s ineffi cacy.

Th e state returned to Buddhist priests. But by that point the Buddhist sects, especially the Shinshū sects, had become disillusioned with the Meiji government. Th ey challenged the anti- Buddhist policies of the Meiji government through a series of petitions. Some Buddhist priests, such as Shimaji Mokurai (1838– 1911) and Ōzū Tetsunen, pressured the government to set up the Offi ce of Temples (Jiinryō) to protect Buddhist temples. Th ey had also requested that the government incorporate Buddhist priests into its programs by establishing the Department of Education (Kyōbushō). Th e government had resisted moving forward on these requests but, upon realizing that Buddhist priests would be more eff ec-

tive than Shinto priests at disseminating state programs, moved quickly in 1872 to fulfi ll the sects’ petitions.

Th e government directed the newly established Department of Education to institute the Th ree Great Teachings (sanjō kyōsoku) and a set of eleven and seventeen articles. Th ese were to be taught to the populace by priests designated as National Evangelists (kyōdōshoku). Th e main message in these teachings, which aimed at centralizing and strengthening the nation, was the necessity of taxes, conscription, and education. To supervise the National Evangelists eff ectively, in 1873 the government ordered that each Buddhist sect choose its own head priest (kanchō) and create fourteen ranks to work under his leadership. Under this system, in order to become the abbot of a temple, a Buddhist priest had to not only become a National Evangelist but also have risen to at least the seventh rank set by the government. Th us, by 1874, after being briefl y marginalized, Japa nese Buddhists were elevated to become fully reintegrated into the state structure and to take their place alongside Shinto. Buddhist priests now worked hard to maintain their status by proving they could be eff ective teachers of state ideology.

The Creation Of Modern Sectarian Buddhism

Meiji Buddhists were not satisfi ed with putting an end to anti- Buddhist policies. Although gratifi ed to be included in the state program as National Evangelists, they could not accept that Shinto priests continued to be favored by the government. One particularly embarrassing event in 1874 intensifi ed their discontent. Th e opening ceremony of the Great Teaching Institute (Daikyōin) took place at the Jōdoshū temple Zōjōji.

Th is institute had been originally proposed by Buddhist priests in an effort to take a more active role, alongside Shinto, in the Great Promulgation Campaign (taikyō senpu undō). Th e government accepted the Buddhists’ proposal and instituted a national network by adding Middle
(Chūkyōin) and Small (Shōkyōin) Teaching Institutes around the country, which were mostly set up in the temple compounds. Th ese institutes

fell under the administration of the Great Teaching Institute, which would be also set up at Zōjōji. To the Buddhists’ chagrin, the temple used for the opening ceremony was turned into a Shinto shrine: the four Shinto kami replaced the Amida Buddha on the altar, the head Buddhist priests were forced to wear Shinto robes, and they had to bow before the kami in a Shinto way. Resentful, some Buddhists moved to withdraw from the Great Teaching Institute, and, in 1875, four sects of Pure Land Buddhism were allowed by the government to leave the institute.

Central to the Shinshū’s withdrawal was the Buddhist priest Shimaji, mentioned earlier, of the Nishi Honganji. He was one of the fi rst Buddhist priests to travel to Eu rope. In 1871, Meiji government offi cials had already begun two years of travel in the West, seeking to understand the accomplishments of Western civilization. Th e Nishi Honganji followed their lead and, in 1872, sent a group of priests for the same purpose. Th e Higashi Honganji followed suit in 1873. Nanjō Bunyū (1849– 1927), Kasahara Kenju (1852– 1883), and Takakusu Junjirō (1866– 1945) studied under Max Müller (1823– 1900) and later introduced Oriental Buddhist scholarship to Japan. Shimaji and Akamatsu Renjō (1841– 1919) returned with ideas about modern religion and consequently worked to reform their own sect. Th ese four, among others, became some of the leading architects of Meiji Buddhism.

As a Buddhist modernizer, Shimaji criticized the government’s religious policies in two petitions. He asserts that State Shinto had come to be thought of as a religion but that it was too entangled with the state. By relying on the concept of the separation of church and state, which he had learned while in Eu rope, Shimaji argued that State Shinto should be separated from the state. But Shimaji in no way desired to antagonize the state by asking it to dissociate from State Shinto altogether. Rather, he said that State Shinto could be designated as a non- religious entity. But,

when it came to Buddhism, Shimaji felt that the concept of separation of church and state did not apply to the unique situation of Japan, because Buddhism had a special historical and cultural connection. Buddhism, he argued, would fully support the rule of the emperor because Buddhism did not make a distinction between the Buddha and the emperor. It was the supra- religious duty of all people, including Buddhists, to respect the emperor. Th us, in regard to Buddhism’s support of the state, Shimaji even intimated that Buddhism could be the state’s preferred religion, with the added benefi t to both sides of keeping out Christianity.

He wrote, “If the government seeks to make use of Buddhism, it should prevent the incursion of foreign religion.”
Th e four Shinshū sects also desired equal treatment of Buddhism from the government and supported Shimaji’s Buddhist version of the government’s earlier version of the “separation of kami and Buddhas.” After the government allowed the four Buddhist sects to withdraw from the controversial Great Teaching Institute, the institute was soon abolished, ending cooperation between Shinto and Buddhist priests under the same institution. Th e Buddhists, however, kept the Middle and Small institutes and continued to work as National Evangelists. Th e government and Buddhist sects now mutually supported this supra- religious State Shinto and the Th ree Great Teachings, thereby “saving face for both.” With the full support of all Buddhist sects, the state program gained momentum.

Th e National Evangelists’ program was disestablished in 1884 for a number of reasons. Each Buddhist sect was instructed to choose its own head priest and give him signifi cant administrative power. Th us, the hon- matsu (head- branch) system that had characterized Edo Buddhism changed into the more centralized form of a kanchō (head priest) system. Th e head priest took charge of nominating abbots and conferring ranks to priests, functions that had previously been controlled by the Department of Education. In addition, the government granted the head priest a high bureaucratic standing called chokuninkan, which was the equivalent of a ministerial position. Th e head priest of each sect was instructed

to submit sectarian prescriptions (shūsei) and other temple regulations ( jihō) to the Home Ministry for approval.

Th e installation of the head- priest system by the government marked, as scholar Ikeda Eishun writes, “the rise of modern sectarian organizations.”
However, this drive to centralize Buddhist sects created tensions. While temples within a sect traditionally had a high degree of autonomy, each sect now attempted to subordinate branch temples under the direct control of the head priest. Th us, within a sect, the potential supremacy of the head priest of one head temple limited the power of other head temples. Th e original head priests of the seven Buddhist sects could not quell power confl icts among infl uential former head temples, which were reluctant to comply with the new institutional structure. As a result, the Rinzaishū and the Shin sect split into ten factions each, other sects found themselves vulnerable to division, and still other sects were mired in factionalism.

Recognizing this problem, the government allowed each branch (or major head temples, in one sect) to determine its own head priest, increasing the number of sects from seven to twelve, and further recognized thirty- seven branch temples. Th is mea sure fell short of easing tensions within these sects and branches. For example, the Jōdoshū was composed of several head temples until the Meiji government ordered it to unify under a single leadership. In order to avoid internal division, the Jōdo central offi ce designated the two infl uential temples, Zōjōji and Chion- in, as co- heads and recognized the abbots as co- head priests. However, power struggles soon ensued. Pressured by the government and Jōdo priests, in 1885 the sect was forced to discontinue this co- head priest system and recognize the leadership of three more head temples. Th e abbots of these fi ve temples rotated into the position of head priest of the Jōdoshū annually.

Nevertheless, this system failed to balance power among competing temples. When the denominational parliament was or ga nized, the sixty representatives were disproportionally distributed: thirty from Chion- in, fi fteen from Zōjōji, and fi fteen from the other three head temples. Moreover,

determining the bylaws of the denomination became so disputatious that the Jōdoshū’s identity was on the verge of demise. Although the fundamental sources of discord were resolved in 1887, the accord was rather tenuous.

Th e Sōtōshū fared somewhat better. Th e Sōtōshū had two powerful temples, Eihei- ji and Sōji- ji, and both temples agreed to stay united by having the abbots of these head temples take turns assuming the headpriest position of the Sōtōshū each year. However, in 1893, Sōji- ji unilaterally decided to separate from Eihei- ji amid growing tensions between the two. Th e matter was resolved only after the government intervened and persuaded Sōji- ji to give up the move. Like the Jōdoshū and Sōtōshū, the Nichirenshū centralized itself, which caused some of the priests leading its reform to end up with a lower priestly status. Witnessing the factionalization of Meiji Buddhism, the Buddhist intellectuals Kimura Takatarō and Inoue Enryō (1858– 1919) wrote Purify Buddhism (Hai Bukkyō) and Treatise on the Reform of the Evil of the Clergy
(Sōhei kairyō ron), respectively, treatises that called for Meiji Buddhist institutions to reform themselves through unifi cation.

In short, the state’s demands on Japa nese Buddhism initiated a painful transformation toward modern institutionalization that created havoc within each sect. In the tumultuous pro cess of centralization and bureaucratization, sectarian identity became consolidated and incongruous elements were eliminated. A fl ood of new texts about the found ers of each sect and their teachings, as well as about sectarian tenets, were published for priests and parishioners. Th ose priests of branch temples who were not familiar with these and who refused to comply with this new system were disciplined, indoctrinated, and, if necessary, excommunicated.

Despite constant confl ict and tension among branches and temples within each sect, Meiji Buddhist sects managed to transform into modern institutions relatively quickly. One reason for this swift transformation is that Japa nese Buddhism was able to springboard off the National Evangelists’ program, established by the government, as the framework

on which to reconfi gure itself. Although the Great Teaching Institute had been disestablished in 1875, the lesser institutes continued to function and later turned into the provincial and local religious offi ces of each sect. Th is is not the only element, however, that supported the rapid institutionalization of Meiji sectarian Buddhism. Meiji Buddhists acquired an important skill through their experience as National Evangelists, that of propagation. Tens of thousands of Buddhist priests had worked in these nationwide institutes. Years of preaching to their parishioners helped them develop techniques for propagation and exposed them to modern concepts and knowledge.

Besides, Buddhists made a full use of the limitation of the government’s control over this program. Th e content of their preaching was dictated by the government, but, as Helen Hardacre points out, their sectarian identities and ends were still clearly represented in their sermons: Buddhist priests incorporated sectarian tenets into talks on the Great Teachings and encouraged donations to their temple. Th ey took the opportunity to convert people to their own lineages. As Buddhist sects centralized, they also sought to expand. Th eir experience with propagation on behalf of the state gave them skills to create programs for their own sects. Th ey designed texts based on sectarian doctrines and mobilized propagation movements. Many saw this forward motion as a way of avoiding future persecution. However, Japa nese sectarian Buddhism had another reason for stressing propagation to parishioners. New religions were emerging that also vied to participate in the state’s reforms, and these traditions’ growing popularity threatened the economic base of Buddhism. Th e greatest threat came from Christianity.

the challenge of christianity and the rise of nationalism Christianity challenged Meiji Buddhism early on, especially after the prohibition on Christianity was lifted in 1873 as a result of diplomatic pressure from the West. While Buddhism was still recovering from persecution, Christianity gradually spread during the 1880s, especially among The History of Buddhism in Korea and Japan 59 former samurai, who had been marginalized by the new Meiji government. Christianity’s modern schools and hospitals attracted converts, as well.

In addition, Japan’s drive to Westernize and modernize (ōka shugi) in order to create a modern nation- state further helped Christianity’s reception by many as the embodiment of Western civilization and as a modern religion. Although there were less than ten thousand Christians in 1882, by 1891 there were more than thirty thousand. As evangelical fervor swept through the country in the 1890s, Christians expected that Japan would be Christianized before long. Inevitably, confl icts between Christianity and Buddhism increased in the 1880s and ’90s. Buddhists recognized the threat from Christianity early on, and this caused them to cross sectarian lines to form, in 1869, the Buddhist Trans- sectarian Association (Shoshū Dōtoku Kaimei), the fi rst such or ga ni za tion in the history of Japa nese Buddhism. One goal of the association was the “eradication” of Christianity. As scholar Yoshida Kyūichi pointed out, many Buddhist priests believed that Christianity’s inroads would threaten not only the traditional values of Japan but also the economy of the temples, since losing members would decrease temple incomes.

However, to Buddhists’ delight, the situation changed dramatically.

In 1890, the government issued the Imperial Rescript on Education (Kyōiku Chokugo), which required absolute obedience to the emperor.

Th is posed a major problem for Christians. In one representative incident, the prominent Christian leader Uchimura Kanzō’s (1861– 1930) refusal to pay respect to the rescript incurred criticism from Japa nese nationalists and Buddhists. Th ey, among others, cast his refusal as an
“incident of lese majesty” (fukei jiken) and held it up as evidence that Christianity was foreign and incongruous with national polity (kokutai).

In 1893, the Japa nese intellectual Inoue Tetsujirō (1855– 1944) wrote a series of articles titled “Th e Confl ict between Education and Religion”
(Kyōiku to shukyō no shōtotsu) aimed at marginalizing Christianity. He

argued that Christianity prioritizes one God over nation and that its tenets require faithfulness to Jesus to the exclusion of respecting the emperor, foremost. Uchimura attempted to minimize the damage he had done. But, fi red up by Inoue’s attack on Christians and taking advantage of Uchimura’s misstep, Meiji Buddhists, especially Inoue Enryō, Ōuchi Seiran (1845– 1918), and Shimaji, took full aim and denounced Christianity for being harmful to the solidarity of Japan. Th ey further stressed Buddhism’s conventional doctrines, such as Ōhō Buppō no Furi (Inseparability of the Emperor and the Buddha) and Gokoku soku Gohō
(Defense of the Nation Is Defense of the Dharma), to promote the fact that Buddhism was fully congruous with imperial ideology. In light of growing nationalist sentiments, Buddhism gained the upper hand, and Christianity was gradually put on the defensive. With rich doctrinal justifi cation ready to be served as, in Bourdieu’s term, symbolic capital (or power) to “consecrate” and “sanctify” state programs, Meiji Buddhism emerged an eff ective religion for inculcating and consolidating Japan’s imperial ideology. At the same time, it is important to note that the Meiji Buddhists’ version of imperial ideology was not necessarily identical with the state’s script. Meiji Buddhists skillfully created their own versions and used them to their best advantage.

Moreover, Meiji Buddhists defended themselves whenever signifi cant prerogatives were challenged by the state. When the Meiji government attempted to pass the Religions Bill (shūkyō hōan) in the 1890s to meet the conditions set by Western powers, Buddhists stepped up their commitment to nationalism by creating a movement to “recognize Buddhism as an offi cial religion of Japan” (Bukkyō kōninkyō undō). Japan had nego-

tiated with Western powers to end an 1858 extraterritoriality treaty. Th e Western powers set up a number of prerequisites for negotiations, one of which was to allow mixed residence (naichi zakkyo, foreigners among Japa nese). Already alarmed by the incursion of Christianity, Buddhist sects sought to defend their religion in the face of a potential massive infl ow of Westerners and missionaries by requesting that the government recognize Buddhism as a corporate body with state protection, while other religions would be designated as private bodies. Th eir argument was that since Buddhism had all along been an indispensable part of the national polity (kokutai), it should receive preferential treatment from the state. Japa nese Buddhists were also critical of the specifi cs of the government’s Religions Bill. Most of the bill’s fi fty- three articles dictated that the government would directly control temples and clerical matters, thus preventing the religious offi ces of Buddhist sects from having much autonomy. Meiji Buddhism, by the 1890s, could not be ignored anymore. In 1900, the fi rst Religions Bill that made it to the legislature, which was to guarantee equal status to all religions and micromanage Buddhist institutions, failed to pass due to opposition from Buddhist sects and associations. After two more attempts, in 1927 and 1929, the bill was eventually passed as the Religious Organizations Law
(Shūkyō dantaihō) in 1939. (Interestingly, the fi rst failed bill was later applied to Korean Buddhism by the colonial government in the form of the 1911 Temple Ordinance and the 1915 Regulations on Propagation.

Th ese two bills, ironically, infl uenced the Religious Organizations Law, passed in 1939 in Japan.)

Th e argument that Buddhism should be treated diff erently from Christianity had its source in the growing knowledge of Western countries among Meiji Buddhists. As mentioned earlier, in the early 1870s the Nishi and Higashi Honganjis sent more than a dozen priests to the West, and other sects followed suit throughout the Meiji period. Th e priests Nanjō Bunyū and Takakusu Junjirō (1866– 1945) learned about modern scholarship in Buddhist studies. Th e introduction of the scientifi c study of Buddhism based on the Sanskrit language also stimulated Meiji Buddhists to understand their own tradition in trans- sectarian terms. While the scholarship of the Edo period focused mainly on the found ers of each sect, during the Meiji period scholars turned toward exhuming the life and the original teachings of the Buddha Śākyamuni.

Japa nese Buddhists’ travels provided them with eff ective arguments against Christianity. Shimaji, Ishikawa Shūntai (1842– 1931), and Akamatsu Renjō successfully introduced ideas about the incompatibility of science with Christianity to Japan. At the same time, they presented Buddhism as compatible with science and the modern philosophies of the West. For example, Shaku Sōen (1859– 1919) and D. T. Suzuki (1870–
1966) published Paul Carus’s (1852– 1919) Th e Gospel of Buddha in Japanese to promote Buddhism as “the religion of future” because it showed that Westerners were embracing Buddhist teachings. Inoue Enryō also wrote prolifi cally on Buddhism’s superiority to Christianity, presenting his religion as “the closest to the truth.”

Despite their objections to Christianity, Meiji Buddhists took it as a point of reference for their vision of what Meiji Buddhism should become. Th us, they appropriated Christian propagation techniques, proselytizing through new publications and creating education and social welfare programs. Th ese elements were incorporated into sects’ policies, with a special emphasis on propagation on the street, in prison facilities, on college campuses, in the military, and at factories, and through print capitalism such as the distribution of pamphlets, books, and newspapers. Th ey also took a great interest in foreign missionary work after witnessing the success of Christian missions in the global arena.

Th e rising popularity of Christianity in Korea in par tic u lar, which was much more widespread than Christianity in Japan, prompted Japanese Buddhists and their sects to pour unpre ce dented human and monetary resources, despite their fi nancial diffi culties, into missionary eff orts to match those of Christian denominations. Th e modernization of Meiji sectarian Buddhism consists in great part both to reactions against Christianity as well as appropriations from Christianity.

Growing Knowledge Of Other Buddhist Traditions

Th e reconfi guration of Japa nese Buddhism occurred through learning from and reacting to the West and Christianity, but it also was a result of, as Richard Jaff e argues, Japa nese Buddhists’ “increased travel to and exchange with other Buddhists in Asia.” With Japan’s steady advances into East Asia, Japa nese Buddhists ventured into other Asian countries and returned home with stories, ideas, and enthusiasm for global visions. Buddhist priests, such as Shimaji, Kitabatake Dōryū (1820– 1907), Shaku Kōzen (1849– 1924), and Shaku Sōen, went to India and South and Southeast Asia, bringing back ideas for a unifi ed Buddhism centered on the found er Śākyamuni Buddha. Ogurusu Kōchō (1831– 1882), Shaku Unshō, Shaku Sōen, Hioki Mokusen (1847– 1920), and many leading Japa nese Buddhist missionaries to China, Korea, and Taiwan also consolidated their own Buddhist identity through their interactions with Buddhists in these lands. Back in the homeland, they held many public

talks to share the situation of other Buddhisms in Asia, locate Japa nese Buddhism in the context of East Asia and the global arena, and highlight the task of their own tradition to create a unifi ed Buddhist identity.

Th is infl ux of Buddhist ideas and cultures led to the reconfi guration of the genealogy of Japa nese Buddhism, emphasizing its indebtedness to the motherlands of India, China, and Korea. Th ey also re created cultural artifacts from these countries back at home to symbolize this connection. A case in point is the popularity in Japan of incorporating Indian and South Asian temple styles and stupas into modern building structures such as Tsukiji Honganji and the Kasuisai Monument. And, in collaboration with the Sri Lankan Buddhist reformer Anagarika Dharmapala (1864– 1933), Shaku Kōzen, a disciple of Shaku Unshō (1827– 1909) (discussed in the next chapter), founded the Maha Bodhi Society and launched an eff ort to preserve Bodh Gaya, where the Buddha attained his enlightenment. Th rough this increased cultural contact with other Buddhisms and Christianity, Japa nese Buddhists’ own religious and sectarian identity became more clearly articulated. A simultaneous by- product of this contact, further intensifi ed by advances of imperial Japan into other Asian countries, is that Japa nese Buddhists began forming a Pan- Asian identity that could be shared with fellow Buddhists. Th ey saw themselves as part of the larger race of Asians and Asian culture that was in danger of becoming dominated by Western imperialism and Christianity. On top of this, as Meiji Buddhists observed the backward and ailing Buddhism of other Asian countries, they gradually came to believe that Japa nese Buddhism was the only Buddhism that had successfully modernized and that was equipped with the skills and tools to protect and guide them. As such, they felt Japa nese Buddhism was the torchbearer for Asian Buddhism and the truest embodiment of the East’s civilization.

Th is rhetoric was publicly and formally proclaimed at the 1893 World Parliament of Religions in Chicago. Five Japa nese Buddhist delegates

provided counterarguments to Western Orientalism and presented Japanese Buddhism not only as an integral part of Japan’s civilization but even as the essence of it. Th ey further presented Japa nese Buddhism as the fl ower of all Mahayana Buddhism (and since Mahayana sees itself as the highest evolution of Buddhism, this meant Japa nese Buddhism was at the very top of the Buddhist ladder). Japa nese Buddhist delegates interpreted the warm welcome from some Western sympathizers, such as Col o nel Henry Steel Olcott (1832– 1907) and Paul Carus, as a transmission of the dharma (the Buddha’s teachings) to the West and, after returning to Japan, they presented their perception of the event to their fullest advantage. Th e subsequent scholarly writings of some Japa nese Buddhist apologists, such as D. T. Suzuki, Nishida Kitarō (1870– 1945),
and others, further validated this supercessionist belief. Th e “Zen nationalism” that took root during early twentieth- century wars argued that Japa nese Buddhism was superior to the Buddhisms of other Asian countries, as well as to Christianity and Western civilization. Scholars have dubbed this discourse as “reverse Orientalism” or “Oriental Orientalism,” because it targeted Japan’s “Orient,” namely other Asian countries. But it is considered a “dual” discourse, too, because, in addition to addressing Asian countries, it was also aimed at the West: as such, it can be termed a “strategic Occidentalism.” Japa nese Buddhism’s sense of superiority over other Asian Buddhisms developed in tandem with intensifying sectarian distinctions. Propagation to other Asian countries took place in this highly complex context.

66 The History Of Buddhism In Korea And Japan Foreign Missions

Th e Sino- Japanese War of 1894– 1895 and the Russo- Japanese War of 1904– 1905 eventually made Japan the only non- Western imperium.

Meiji Buddhists again desired to prove the utility of their tradition to the state, and the government did not hesitate to use them for its imperial ambitions. Th e Buddhist sects sent chaplain- missionaries to war fronts, while Meiji Buddhist priests at home inspired the populace with nationalist sentiments to justify “holy wars.” In the eyes of the government, Buddhists were the most reliable in terms of their faithfulness to the state policies. Moreover, they were most suitable for foreign missions
(both po liti cal and religious) because of their shared cultural and religious identity with neighboring Asian countries. In fact, sending priests as envoys to China and Korea to foster diplomacy and acquire religious artifacts had been a common practice since ancient times. During the Edo period, the Tokugawa government and local daimyos sent Buddhist priests to the Chosfn court to acquire Buddhist texts and other sacred items. And whenever Korean envoys visited Japan, the Tokugawa government had them stay at Buddhist temples.

Th e Japa nese sects were not solely motivated by advancing the state’s interests. During and after the wars, as government offi cials, troops, businessmen, and other social groups swarmed into Korea, Taiwan, and China to exert their own interests, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, with sectarian and personal ambitions, also took up residence. Th ey primarily cared for the religious needs of Japa nese residents but at the same time turned their eyes toward converting natives.

Without doubt, these Buddhist missionaries fi rmly believed that their work should one way or another contribute to state projects. However, in return, they expected the government to provide special treatment and all the necessary con ve niences. Moreover, sects believed that if they

worked hard to support the state, the government would show preference for their own sect over others. As strongly as they held their po litical motivations, they were equally clear about expanding their sect’s infl uence in foreign lands that, in their eyes, were empty and waiting to be fi lled with their par tic u lar teachings.

Th e investment of Japa nese Buddhist sects in foreign missions, especially after the Sino- Japanese War, was unpre ce dented in the history of Buddhism in terms of the amount of money, breadth of institutional eff ort, and, most importantly, enthusiasm. However, establishing a secure propagation post was a diffi cult task. While the homeland sects supported branch temples and preaching centers in foreign lands, the struggle of Japa nese institutions to stabilize and centralize prevented the sects from being fi nancially secured and from implementing consistent policies on foreign missions. Sects sent substantial but nonetheless limited funds abroad, as Charles Jones has detailed in the case of the Japa nese Buddhist mission to Taiwan. Th us, the fi rst generation of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries had to fi nd other ways, outside of what their own sect could do for them, to establish themselves and their sect abroad. A greater challenge, however, was to fi re up the missionary spirit of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries to equal that of the Christians. Japanese missionaries constantly compared their work with their Christian competitors and felt frustrated by their lack of progress. Th is inability to cultivate— and sustain— the same level of missionary fervor as the Christians, compounded by other po liti cal and economic diffi culties, hampered Japa nese Buddhists’ progress in China, Taiwan, and Korea.

Comparing Japa Nese And Korean Buddhism By Numbers

Although Japa nese Buddhism’s resources for missionary work paled in comparison to that of Christian missions, Japa nese Buddhism nonetheless had far more resources available than did Korean Buddhism.

incumbents, 1912	Temples	Abbots
Tendaishū	4,577	2,819
Shingonshū	12,377	7,628
Jōdoshū	8,360	6,419
Rinzaishū	6,082	4,751
Sōtōshū	14,225	10,452
Ōbakushū	529	337
Jōdoshinshū	19,620	15,781
Nichirenshū	5,027	4,523
Jishū	497	342
Yūzū- nenbutsushū	361	186
Hossōshū	43	16
Kegonshū	32	14
total	71,730	53,268
note: Th e number of temples does not include places of worship

note: Th e number of temples does not include places of worship located outside the temple complex, which is fi gured to have been 36,509. source: Naikaku tōkeikyoku, Nihon teikoku tōkei nenkan (1912), 587.

It is useful to compare Japan with Korea, in 1912, to illustrate the disparity between the two Buddhisms and the eff ects of Chosfn persecution on Korean Buddhism. Japan had an overall population of 53 million, while Korea had 15 million, which means that Japan was 3.6 times more populous. However, given that Korea had 7,900 monastics to Japan’s 53,268 abbots, this means that Korea had one monastic for every 6.8 Japanese abbots. Th e contrast becomes even starker when we consider that the given number of Korean monks included young novices, while the number of Japa nese priests did not (there were 52,198 who did not engage in propagation and 11,021 who were in training for ordination). Th e ratio of Korean temples to Japan’s is even more striking at 1:56. Although many Japa nese temples included in the count were small, more than half of the Korean temples counted were small as well and located in secluded areas,

away from commoners and villages. Based on these relatively superior human and material resources, although these were in no way the only comprehensive means of mea sur ing the contrast between the two Buddhisms, Meiji Buddhism arrived in Korea ready to revitalize Korean Buddhism and advance the dominion of its sects.

Conclusion

In his discussion of the sociology of Buddhism, Max Weber characterizes Buddhism as inherently asocial, inward, and magical, and therefore lacking the Protestant- like ethic necessary to transform society. Winston Davis disagrees and points to the agency of Meiji Buddhism in the modernization of Japan. Davis reinterprets Meiji sectarian Buddhism’s survival tactics as “passive enablements” that became a “positive” force in the modern transformation of Japan. Meiji Buddhist sects, however, were not merely passively and dutifully supporting government policies. As discussed earlier, the sects actively reinforced the state’s programs and, in return for this advocacy, demanded that the government protect their interests. Each sect vied to outperform the other for the sake of the nation because ingratiating the sect to the government was inseparable from securing institutional prerogatives. Th us, Japa nese Buddhist sects acted, as Sheldon Garon points out, like “interest groups” that “single- mindedly resisted intrusions” that would go against “the interests of their own organizations.” Although Garon refers to Buddhist responses to the religions bill in the late 1920s, Meiji Buddhist leaders two de cades earlier had vehemently opposed the same bill, which they considered excessive “state intervention.” By the 1890s, the Meiji government could not ignore Buddhism any more. As Sueki Fumihiko has

rightly observed, it desperately needed Buddhism to make its programs of nationalism and imperialism succeed. In other words, without Buddhism, with its elaborate and concrete doctrine as protector of the state, it would have been much more diffi cult for Meiji Japan to inculcate the populace in believing they were, as Robert Bellah and Anthony Smith have put it, a people “chosen” by the divine, namely the emperor.

Th e advance of Japan into Asian countries made Meiji Buddhism’s role further indispensable to the Meiji government. Meiji Buddhism, as James Ketelaar points out, transformed heretics into martyrs and martyrs into the symbols of Japa nese civilization. Th is self- confi dence, born in part from overcoming early Meiji persecution, was refl ected in the way Meiji Buddhists related to Korean monastics, as well.

When Japa nese Buddhist missionaries encountered Korean monks, they therefore had multiple objectives: proving to the government that their sect would be the most eff ective for advancing Japan’s colonial and imperial objectives; expanding their sectarian dominance among not only Japa nese residents but also Koreans and Korean monastics; and, without doubt, pursuing their individual success and fame. Equally, they had great concern that Korea could become a Christian country, which for Japa nese Buddhists was equal to Korea becoming colonized by the West. Th ese motives prefi gured the relationships Japa nese Buddhists formed with Korean Buddhist clergy in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Once Meiji Buddhism regained its footing in Japan in the 1880s, and with its increased contact with other Asian countries, Buddhist sects began considering sending their priests abroad to establish their presence, to support Japa nese emigrants, and to convert natives. Despite fi nancial limitations and struggles to centralize sectarian institutions, Japa nese Buddhism consciously and systematically poured sizable resources into overseas propagation.

China was considered the fi rst land of opportunity. But the relationship between Japa nese and Chinese Buddhism was thwarted by the prohibition of Japa nese Buddhists’ “rights of propagation” ( fukyōken) in China. Japa nese Buddhist sects submitted a series of petitions in 1881, 1895, and 1915 to the Japa nese government to receive permission to work in China, but to no avail. Only fi ve years before the end of World War II, in 1940, did the pro- Japanese Chen Gongbo government in China allow Japa nese Buddhists to perform missionary work. In the case of Taiwan, Japa nese Buddhism commenced contact with Taiwanese Buddhism with annexation in 1895, following the fi rst Sino- Japanese war.

Taiwanese Buddhism, and other religious traditions in Taiwan, was soon incorporated into the colonial system. Th e interaction between Japa nese and Taiwanese Buddhism was undertaken in the context of Taiwan as a colony of Japan, which had an enormous impact on how the two Buddhisms related to and associated with each other.

If one wants a greater understanding of the extra- political relationships between Japa nese Buddhists and their Asian counterparts between the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, however, one should look not so much at China and Taiwan but at Korea. Korea had an entirely diff erent relationship with Japan in the de cades before it became a colony, from 1877 to 1910. Especially in the years before 1909, before news of a complete annexation had circulated, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries did not know for sure whether Korea would become part of their nation. Even after 1905, when Korea became a protectorate and assumed semi- colonial status, Korean and Japa nese Buddhists dealt with each other on a somewhat level playing fi eld. Th e protectorate government was still shaky, and there were many unpredictable factors in the domestic and international arenas. Because of this uncertainty, understanding the Japa nese Buddhist approach toward Korean monks solely through the lens of imperial and colonial discourse is not suffi cient. Relationships were constantly negotiated, contested, and changed over time. Korean monks, when meeting with Japa nese Buddhists, did not necessarily perceive them as colonizers, at least not at the beginning. In the ambiguous context of the period leading up to annexation, the relationship between Japa nese and Korean Buddhists was highly dynamic. After 1912, the colonial government took fi rm control of policies on religion, ending the relatively unrestricted nature of this relationship.

Th is chapter will introduce, fi rst, the scholarly debates on the discourse of propagation that Japa nese Buddhists understood as they commenced missions abroad. It is important to have a sense of the ideology that Japa nese Buddhists used to frame their eff orts, because that ideology shaped the way they approached the Buddhist landscape of Asian countries. Th e chapter then takes up their propagation eff orts in Korea, specifi cally, looking at the reasons behind the Japa nese Buddhists’ deep investment in missions to Korea. Finally, three cases representing the encounter between Japa nese and Korean Buddhists are examined. Th ese three explore some of the underlying reasons Japa nese Buddhist missionaries went to Korea, within and beyond the discourse of fukyō, revealing

that Japa nese missions had complex motivations not just confi ned to the po liti cal. Special attention is given to how Japa nese and Korean Buddhists represented their own traditions in conversation with each other.

Finally, two of these three par tic u lar stories provide useful background on later events in the pre- colonial and early colonial periods.

Scholarly Debate On Terminology

Because conventional scholarship has given prominence to state ideology in assessing the motivations of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, it has missed the importance of a unique discourse of Meiji Buddhism, namely the discourse of propagation. Japa nese Buddhists came to Korea not just as colonialists and imperialists, but equally so as missionaries whose objectives were to exert personal and institutional interests. Th erefore, it is critical to analyze what Japa nese Buddhists meant by fukyō and how their understanding of it infl uenced their approach to Korean Buddhism.

Th e terms “mission” (K. chfndo or Jp. dendō) or “propagation” (K.

p’ogyo or Jp. fukyō), in the sense of simply sharing the teachings of one’s religion, were already a part of the Buddhist tradition going as far back as the time of the Buddha. But this kind of propagation was rather informal and incidental, with transmission occurring through trade routes and court sponsorship, and when one country conquered another. However, at the dawn of the modern period, the idea that Buddhists had an obligation to perform missionary work, and that it was a defi ning element of institutional Buddhism, began to take hold in Japan, Sri Lanka, and elsewhere. Notably, the reconfi guration of Buddhism as a missionary religion occurred in countries that had the most contact with Western ideas and Christian missions. By the late nineteenth century, there was no question among Japa nese Buddhist leaders that Buddhism was a missionary religion on par with Christianity. Here is a statement from one of the leading Buddhist intellectuals, Sakaino Kōyō (1871– 1933),
written in 1910: “Th e ‘History of Buddhist Propagation’ may sound like a strange title [for this essay]. However, in fact it [the history of Buddhist propagation] is tantamount to the history of Buddhism itself. Th ere is no history in Buddhism separated from its missionary history.” Sakaino’s point is echoed by his contemporary, the Korean Buddhist reformer

Han Yong- un, who was critical of Korean monks for not meeting the expectations of their duty as Buddhist missionaries: “Th e reason why Korean Buddhism is downtrodden is that it lacks strength, and this, in turn, is due to the fact that its teachings are not being propagated. . . .

With all the foreign religions that have entered Korea exhausting themselves in missionary enterprises, who would dare to suggest that the propagation of teachings is not the duty of a religious person?”
Although Sakaino and others of his day believed that Buddhism had thousands of years as a missionary tradition, in fact, as Jonathan Walters points out in his persuasive dissertation “Rethinking Buddhist Missions,” it was not until the nineteenth century that Buddhists consciously reconfi gured their own religion in this way. Walters traces this development in part to the nineteenth- century Orientalist Max Müller, who had categorized Buddhism as a missionary religion, along with Christianity and Islam. Müller and other scholars had referred to textual evidence in the Vinaya Pitaka (part of the Buddhist canon) that said, Fare ye forth, brethren, on the mission that is for the good of the many, for the happiness of the many, to take compassion on the world and to work profi t and good and happiness to gods and men. Go not singly but in pairs: teach ye, brethren, the Truth, lovely in its origin, lovely in its progress, lovely in its consummation, both in the spirit and in the letter; proclaim ye the higher life in all its fullness and in all its purity. Beings there are whose eyes are hardly dimmed with dust, perishing because they hear not the Truth; they will become knowers of the Truth.

Based on this passage, which is similar to Matthew 28: 19– 20, Orientalists interpreted this to mean that the Buddha was “a paradigmatic missionary” and that Buddhist clergy had a duty to proselytize. Several

Japa nese priests who studied with Müller brought this idea back to Japan, and this new view of Buddhism gained traction. Later Orientalist scholars and missionaries continued Müller’s characterization, and it became a norm. Based on this history, Walters argues that the characterization of Buddhism as such is “an Anglo- American construct.” He suggests that the idea of missions did not exist in pre- modern Buddhism, especially not in the Th eravadin tradition and thus particularly not in Sri Lanka. Rather, the reconfi guration was a result of the infl uence of Christians in the colonies in the nineteenth century. In her 2005 anthology Buddhist Missionaries in the Era of Globalization, Linda Learman agrees with Walters that Christianity infl uenced nineteenth- and twentieth- century Asian Buddhists, both the Th eravada and Mahayana, on the concept of missions. Dharmapala (1864– 1933) of Sri Lanka and Taixu (1890– 1947) of China are two leading reformers who drew from Christian methods. But, Learman maintains, Buddhists “should not be thought of as simplistically imitating or being overwhelmed by the Christian ethos and practices.” Although, she argues, Buddhists already had their own versions of missionary spirit, she points to colonialism and nationalism as crucial factors in creating an active proselytization movement by Asian Buddhists. Th us, Walters and Learman agree that the advent of the Buddhist obsession with missionary work in the modern period is a unique phenomenon. For Meiji Buddhists, the discourse of propagation became a normative and defi ning feature and, thereby, as James Ketelaar puts it, “the most dramatic” shift within Japa nese Buddhist history. Ketelaar’s point is in line with Hishiki Masaharu’s analysis that “established Buddhism during the Edo period” did not use “the discourse of fukyō or dendō” in propagating its sectarian infl uence. Komatsu Yūdō (1892–?) argued that the term dendō translated into such En glish terms as “evangelism,” “propagandism,” “proselytism,” “mission work,” “gospel- preaching,” “sermon,”
and so on, which were introduced during the Meiji period. What made

Meiji Buddhism’s propagation drive unique was its institutional and systematic endeavor to expand sectarian infl uence both domestically and internationally. Th e Buddhisms of other countries focused on domestic propagation— perhaps because Christianity in their countries was more of a threat and because they had fewer resources. Moreover, their eff orts tended to be sporadic and dispersed, while in Japan, missions were dispatched with the backing of large sectarian institutions. Th us, Meiji Buddhism went international and transnational (ekkyō), as recent scholars have highlighted. Meiji Buddhist eff orts were further undergirded by the Meiji government, which, as discussed in the previous chapter, also initiated propagation drives for state programs. Meiji Buddhists had been trained in national propagation, providing them with techniques less available to Buddhist clergy in other countries. Japa nese priests were especially zealous about missionizing in Korea. As a result, the terms fukyō and dendō, along with related terms, became ideologically and emotionally laden in the late nineteenth to mid- twentieth centuries.

Recently, scholars have begun to complexify how Japa nese Buddhists thought of their missionary work and whether the concept of missions changed over time. For example, the years that sects commenced missionary work abroad, as seen in Table 2.1, indicate that sects tended to follow on the heels of Japan’s po liti cal advances, especially in the wake of the Sino- Japanese War of 1894– 1895 and the Russo- Japanese War of 1904– 1905.

Th is coincidence can be explained in two ways. First, missionary work was initiated at the Meiji government’s request and thus was merely intended to fulfi ll the state’s goal of pacifying colonial peoples and turning them into loyal subjects of the emperor. For example, Okumura went to Korea in 1877 at the request of Home Minister Ōkubo Toshimichi (1830– 1878) and Foreign Minister Terashima Munenori (1832– 1893).

With this line of thinking, some scholars recommend diff erentiating between missions to Asian countries, such as China, Korea, and Taiwan, and missions to the West, such as Hawaii, South America, and so on. Missions to Asian countries would be termed “colonial propagation”

Ōtani- ha:	China (1873), Korea (1877), Taiwan (1896)
Nichirenshū:	Korea (1881), Taiwan (1897), Manchuria (1915)
Jōdoshū:	Taiwan (1896), Korea (1897), Sakhalin (1912), China (1905), Manchuria (1905)
Honganji- ha:	Vladivostok (1886), Taiwan (1897), Korea (1897), Manchuria (1905)
Sōtōshū:	Korea (1890), Taiwan (1895), Sakhalin (1905), Manchuria (1908), China (1913)

(shokuminchi fukyō), while missions elsewhere would be termed “immigrant propagation” (imin fukyō).

Th e second explanation would be that Japa nese Buddhists’ foreign missions merely followed the movements of the emigrants involved in these wars and of commerce, rather than being true missionary eff orts to reach beyond this circle. For that reason, scholars Tsuzuki Atsushi and Kiba Akeshi, for example, suggest using the term tsuikyō, instead of fukyō or kaikyō, to characterize the overall Japa nese missionary work in foreign countries. Tsuikyō means literally “chasing teachings” and implies that missionary work was confi ned to emigrants alone. In fact, many Japanese Buddhist missionaries themselves used this term. For instance, in 1929, Kurozu Kinshō, an Ōtani- ha missionary, expressed his frustration with Buddhist missionary work by describing it as “in fact running after emigrants’ butts” ( jitsuwa imin no shirio otteiru). Here, tsuikyō means that the Japa nese Buddhist missions to Taiwan, Manchuria, China, and Korea were not primarily intended to proselytize to non- Japanese but rather to follow Japa nese soldiers, government offi cials, farmers, and businessmen abroad. Th is idea suggests that although Japa nese Buddhist sects frequently touted the spirit of propagation to non- Japanese, in reality they confi ned themselves to Japa nese residents. Th ere is some evidence to back up this claim. For example, as one can see from Table 2.2, the

Japa nese Members	Korean Members
Honganji- ha	96,959	3,218
Ōtani- ha	45,698	699
Sōtōshū	38,639	3,538
Jōdoshū	26,844	411
Nichirenshū	18,549	227
total	226,689	8,093

source: Chōsen Sōtokufu tōkei nenpō (1938).

number of Koreans that sects could claim as members in the late 1930s was dismally small.

However, Kiba and Kojima claim that these two explanations do not take into consideration two additional, important factors. First, Japa nese missionaries sometimes acted on their own, without the prompting of the state. Second, Japa nese missionaries had relationships with nonJapanese in China, Korea, and Taiwan, at least in the early years of Meiji expansion. Kiba and Kojima take the example of the missionary Ogurusu Kōchō. Ogurusu, from the Higashi Honganji, was one of the earliest missionaries. In 1873, he volunteered to go to Peking to start proselytizing Shinran’s teachings to the Chinese. His purpose was to check the growth of Christianity and to challenge Western imperialism by uniting three Eastern countries, namely India, China, and Japan. Ogurusu was also a spy for the Meiji government, reporting on the po liti cal and social situation of China, but at the same time, much of his time was spent with Chinese monks, where he learned the Chinese language, studied Buddhism with them, and shared much about his own sect’s teachings. Scholar Xin Ping agrees with Kiba and Kojima’s assertion that Japa nese priests acted on more than just po liti cal grounds. He gives Tani Ryōnen and Nanjō Bunyū as examples of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries who had frequent contact with Chinese Buddhist monks and Encounters between Japa nese Priests and Korean Monks 79 intellectuals, including Yang Wenhui (1837– 1911). Most recently, scholar Tsujimura Shinobu has introduced a Sōtō priest Mizuno Baigyō
(1877– 1949) who later converted to the Ōtani- ha in 1907, as one of the Japa nese Buddhist missionaries who had friendly relationships with Chinese Buddhist leaders such as Taixū (1889– 1947). Mizuno, like “Takeda Hanshi,” Tsujimura asserts, “pursued the Pan- Asian alliance based on Buddhism” from 1900 to the 1910s, and thus should be thought of as “a Pan- Asian Buddhist.”
In addition to individual priests initiating missionary work in de pendent of government prompting, sects too had their own plans. Th e Higashi Honganji’s fervor for foreign missions was partly attributable to Ishikawa Shūntai. Ishikawa assumed an important position at the Higashi Honganji. In his second term, in 1898, Ishikawa infl uenced the Higashi Honganji (Shinshū Ōtani- ha) to launch “the project of missionizing the world” (sekai teki fukyō keikaku) by starting in China. Th e Sōtōshū likewise had ambitions of its own in 1901. Sōtōshū priests, such as Kinoshita Ginryū, Watanabe Tosui, and Ōnishi Kanpō, or ga nized the Sōtōshū Private Society for Foreign Missions (Sōtōshū shiritsu kaigai fukyōkai).

Japa nese missionary work in Korea confi rms recent scholarship on the complex nature of fukyō and dendō. Although priests working in Korea in the late nineteenth century were stationed primarily to support Japa nese emigrants, at the same time they had begun to have extensive contact with natives. Of course, their work operated in close connection with the Japa nese government, but they were not entirely controlled by it either. Many priests arrived in Korea at the behest of their sect or through their own initiative. Moreover, it should be noted that, in the years before annexation, Japa nese Buddhist sects had thousands of

Koreans as members. Th e low fi gures in table 2.2 can be explained by the promulgation of the Temple Ordinance of 1911, which saw to the separation of Japa nese and Korean Buddhism in the colony. Th erefore, it would be incorrect to use the same characterization of fukyō and dendō of the later colonial period for the de cades before annexation.

Missionary Eff Orts In Korea

Five of the thirteen sects dominated missionary work in Korea. To get a sense of just how much these fi ve invested in Korea relative to missionary work in other countries, table 2.3 provides fi gures on foreign mission (kaikyō) in China, Hawaii, Taiwan, Manchuria, and other areas. Comparatively (given that Korea is a much smaller country than China or Manchuria), Korea received the greatest investment of missions, money, and Japa nese immigrants. Given the close proximity of Korea to Japan and Japan’s keen interests in Korea, it is not surprising that Japa nese Buddhists began sending missions to Korea relatively early in their overall missions abroad.

As soon as these missionaries established themselves, they started reaching out to Korean monastics. A question naturally arises: Why did Japa nese Buddhists focus on Korean Buddhists, and among Buddhists of the monastics instead of Korean people broadly? Th e answer is that they saw Korean Buddhism as a means to four interrelated ends. First, Japa nese Buddhists wanted to expand their own sects’ infl uence. Taking over the resources of Korean Buddhism— with over eight thousand monastics and one thousand temples— was a way of mitigating the fi nancial disparity between Western missionaries and themselves. Second, sects wanted to prove to the government and the Japa nese public that their sect operated transnationally. Th ird, Japa nese Buddhists wanted to keep Christianity at bay. Th ey believed that a strong Korean Buddhism would Encounters between Japa nese Priests and Korean Monks 81

1937 and 1938	Missionaries/combined branches (betsuin), temples, and preaching centers
Ōtani- ha	Nichiren	Jōdo	Honganji- ha	Sōtō
Manchuria	98 / 33	– / 20	30 / 18	50 / 26	– / 59
China	20 / 17	– / 6	5 / 2	8 / 7	– / 29
Taiwan	35 / 16	– / 7	30 / 18	50 / 41	– / 64
Hawaii	6 / 7	– / 3	44 / 17	60 / 39	– / 10
Sakhalin	– / 15	44 / 25	1 / 18	– / 63
N. America	– / 1	67 / 43	– / 14
Southern Seas	18 / 11	– / 2	2 / 2	– / 4
Korea	80 / 78	46 / 47	80 / 55	236 / 127	92 / 108
total	257 / 162	46 / 101	235 / 137	472 / 301	92 / 351
source: Bukkyō nenkan (1937 and 1938). Sōtōshū fi gures drawn from Sōtōshū kaigai kaikyō

source: Bukkyō nenkan (1937 and 1938). Sōtōshū fi gures drawn from Sōtōshū kaigai kaikyō dendōshi hensan iinkai, ed., Sōtōshū kaigai kaikyō dendōshi, 30.

Table 2.4: Years Japa nese sects established branches in Korea Sect Emissary Year	City
Higashi Honganji	Okumura Enshin	1877	Pusan
Nichirenshū	Watanabe Nichiun	1881	Pusan
Nishi Honganji	Nakayama Yuizen	1897	Pusan
Jōdoshū	Misumida Jimon	1897	Pusan
Sōtōshū	Takeda Hanshi	1890	Seoul
Shingonshū	Kanetake Jūndō	1906	Seoul
Rinzaishū	Furukawa Taikō	1907	Seoul

note: Th e primary purpose of Takeda’s visit to Korea was not for propagation but for po liti cal reasons. Nevertheless, the Sōtōshū considers him to be the fi rst missionary to Korea. Th e fi rst Sōtō priest who landed in Korea with propagation in mind was Muramatsu Ryōkan in 1901, but he died from a sickness in the same year (Sōtōshū kaigai kaikyō dendōshi hensan iinkai, ed., Sōtōshū kaigai kaikyō dendōshi, 31).

prevent the further growth of Christianity in Korea, which was being supported by Western missionaries who had signifi cant fi nancial advantages. Japa nese Buddhists identifi ed Christianity with Western imperialism. If Korea became Christianized, then Korea would be taken over by the West— and Japan would be next. Th e idea of a Christian Korea was

frequently depicted as a dagger pointed at Japan’s throat. Hence, the revitalization of Buddhism in Korea was essential for the self- preservation of Japan and Japa nese Buddhism. Fourth, Japa nese Buddhists realized that they would not be able to convert Koreans to Buddhism without the help of Korean monks. Korean monks were possibly the best option for persuading people to return to their forgotten Buddhist inheritance. But in their eyes Korean Buddhism was in a nearly moribund state. Th us, Japa nese Buddhists envisioned working with Korean monks to restore Buddhism to its former status as something of a state religion.

Th ere were other, minor reasons why Japa nese priests were interested in Korea. Some envisioned Korea as a place to establish an ideal Buddhism, which was diffi cult to accomplish in Japan. For others, their encounter with Korean Buddhism was to trace their sect’s identity back to the motherland. Th is move was strategically important since by highlighting the close sectarian affi nities between the countries they could galvanize fi nancial support from the faithful in the homeland, thereby justifying receiving preferential treatment from the state authorities.

Moreover, establishing a historical link would give a sect greater legitimacy over other sects. Th ese multiple objectives— sectarian expansion, stopping Christianity, converting Koreans, establishing an ideal Buddhism in Korea, and tracing back sectarian identity— intermingled with furthering the politi cal objectives of the Meiji government. Emphasis on any one of these shifted according to circumstances and events, but all motives undergirded how Japa nese priests worked with Korean monks. Additionally, the powerful motivations of self- promotion and self- preservation caused Japa nese Buddhists to enter into missionary work with great excitement. As lay Buddhist Satō Ryūhō expressed in 1895, it was “an opportunity available once in a thousand years” (senzai ichigū no kōki).

Personal Encounters Between Korean And Japa Nese Buddhists

Th e following three cases of personal encounters between Japa nese Buddhists and Korean monks illuminate the complexity of the relationships.

All the primary sources used here were written from the perspective of

the Japa nese, and there is no corresponding Korean record to verify authenticity or provide another point of view on these exchanges. Nevertheless, these conversations provide a sense of how Japa nese priests and Korean monks conceptualized and shifted their identities and traditions as they encountered one another in this period. Th ese fi rst encounters abounded with assumptions, misunderstandings, expectations, and undoubtedly great fascination on both sides, qualities that continued in later periods.

Okumura Enshin, 1881

Okumura Enshin (1843– 1913) is representative of those Japa nese Buddhist missionaries who faithfully furthered the state’s program while also expanding a sect’s infl uence in Korea. He was the fi rst modern missionary from the Higashi Honganji to go to Korea, and established a branch temple, Kōtoku- ji, in Pusan in 1877 at the request and with the support of the Japa nese government. Working in Korea on and off for more than two de cades, from 1877 to 1898, Okumura proselytized to Koreans through a language school and established a number of preaching offi ces in cities. In the early years, he was prevented from reaching out to Korean monks due to the prohibition on Japa nese from traveling beyond the residential (or extraterritorial) area allotted to them in Pusan.

Instead, Korean monks from all over Korea visited Okumura’s temple, especially during the fi rst fi ve years of his work there. Okumura was one of the few Japa nese priests to meet a large number of Korean monastics in person. Th rough numerous encounters with Korean monks, he became positive about the prospect of propagating Shinshū teachings to Korean monks, writing, “Not only lay people but also monks from the Sfgwang temple in Anbyfn and four temples in the Kgmgang mountains secretly dislike their own religion, and admiring our Shinshū tradition are many.”
To convince Korean monks that they need to seek the support of his own sect, Okumura reminds them to be concerned about Christianity. When

84 Encounters Between Japa Nese Priests And Korean Monks

talking to a Korean monk named Kfin, Okumura admonished him that Christianity had reached China and Japan and that there were now forty thousand Christians in Korea— it should not be disregarded, he said.

However, Okumura did not fully realize that the Korean monks had other motives in seeking his counsel. Th ey were not necessarily interested 29. Ibid., 193– 94.

in the Shinshū teachings. Rather, seeking new opportunities, they were attracted by Okumura’s closeness to Japa nese and even Korean offi cials.

Okumura was also seen as a conduit to the outside world at a time when Korea was still fairly insulated. For instance, two Korean monks, named T’aemuk and Mugam, bemoaned the weakness of Korean Buddhism, thanked Okumura for coming to Korea, and begged him to revitalize Korean Buddhism. Th ey further expressed their desire to study Buddhism in Japan. Okumura later sent Mugam, along with three other Korean monks, to the Higashi Honganji in Kyoto.

Okumura’s close work with the government and the Higashi Honganji are discussed in the next chapter, but here, Okumura’s unique exchange with a Korean monk is taken up. Th is encounter reveals how Buddhist clergy from both countries represented their Buddhist identities to each other and how the lopsided power relationship between the two Buddhists would predict the trajectories of later encounters between the two Buddhist communities.

According to Okumura’s diary, a monk, whose name he does not specify, from the Hgngch’fn temple in Seoul, visited him on May 26, 1881. Th e monk asked Okumura what the tenets of the Higashi Honganji were. Okumura answered by explaining the two truths (shinzoku nitai mon), that the secular and religious were inseparable. Th e monk then questioned the other- power practice of Okumura’s tradition, asserting that Korean monks do not rely on the other- power (t’aryfk or tariki) of Amida Buddha (that salvation is bestowed by the grace of Amida Buddha) but

practice the way to enlightenment on the basis of self- power (charyfk or jiriki), that is, through meditation, one can attain salvation on one’s own.

Apparently, this monk happened to be a Sfn practitioner who looked down on practices based on chanting and prayer, practices that most Korean monastics followed at the time. His comment discomfi ted Okumura, who responded that self- power would not work in the latter day (meaning the present day, when, in the Buddhist view, the world would decay and die, and that, in this time, the Buddha’s teachings would decline). Th e monk replied, “No, that’s not true.” Okumura referred to the Daijikkyō (Scripture of great collections), in which the Buddha declared that his teachings would degenerate in fi ve stages, each stage lasting a hundred years. But the monk would not accept this interpretation.

Th e debate continued for several hours and the monk still would not yield. He said, “Our Korean monks only practice the six perfections
(pāramitās).” Growing impatient, Okumura retorted, “If you are practicing the acts of the bodhisattva, you must not be a normal person but a reincarnation of the Buddha and a bodhisattva. We should respect you as if you were a Buddha or bodhisattva.” Okumura then put on a special robe in deference to the monk, and requested that the monk proceed to a higher chair and prove his spiritual accomplishment (samadhi) in front of Okumura. Realizing that the situation had gotten out of hand, the monk quickly told him that he was not a reincarnation of a bodhisattva and had not been able to reach samadhi yet. Okumura, enraged, barked at him, “Not only did you render the Buddha’s teachings falsely but you also despised them, and spit out groundless words.” Okumura threatened the monk, saying that he would report the monk to the Korean offi cials, order his arrest, and tell his (Okumura’s) students to gang up on him. Realizing the seriousness of his situation, the monk knelt down and begged for forgiveness, assuring Okumura that “he defi nitely would be [more] prudent [in the future].”
Th is incident off ers a glimpse into the power relationship at work.

Th e encounter took place at a Japa nese temple in Japan’s extraterritorial

quarter in Pusan, where Japa nese government offi cials and businessmen enjoyed many privileges. From the perspective of Korean monks, Okumura’s temple represented the infl uence of a neighboring Buddhism that was much better off than their Buddhism. It was also a place where new opportunities could be found. In the fi rst couple of years of Okumura’s residence in the temple, several hundred Korean monks visited himpartly out of curiosity, partly to pay homage to the Buddha, and partly to fi nd favor by presenting gifts. Some came to deplore the disadvantaged situation of Korean Buddhism, and others even off ered bribes to get Okumura to send them to Japan so that they could study Buddhism, although in many cases they just wanted to see the world outside Korea.

After word of the incident with the monk from the Hgngch’fn temple got around, nobody dared to challenge the tenets of the Higashi Honganji. Monks “thankfully,” as Okumura put it, received the Shinshū texts he gave them.

As Korean monks worked to ingratiate themselves with Okumura, he received the impression, over time, that many of them practiced nenbutsu (chanting Amida’s name, similar to the Higashi Honganji’s main practice). In a talk in 1882 at the Meeting Hall of Meiji (Meiji kaidō) in Japan, Okumura asserted, “Eight out of ten Korean monks are practicing nenbutsu. Th us, it is very con ve nient to disseminate the Shinshū teachings [in Korea].” However, he did not forget to remind the audience about the diff erence of nenbutsu between Korean monastics and his sect: “Th ey [Korean monks] are merely chanting [the name of the Amida Buddha] but [Japa nese priests in] our tradition not only chant the name but chant it while believing and fully accepting the original vows of the Amida Buddha.”
Another important aspect of this encounter is the way Okumura used the unbalanced power relationship or the po liti cal capital that was available to him, but not to the Korean monk, to his advantage. Okumura was aware of the lower social status of Korean monks. For example, on September 20, 1878, he witnessed the way a yangban treated a monk from the Pfmf temple “like a slave.” Th us, when Okumura was not

entirely sure he had persuaded the visiting monk on theological terms, he threatened to have him arrested by the Korean offi cials. He knew that Korean monks feared offi cials and had a history of being exploited by them throughout the Chosfn dynasty. Okumura wrote that his intimidation worked and that the monk “got frightened and dropped tears” in repentance. “From that time on, no monk from the eight provinces who visited me dared to talk about practicing self- power,” concluded Okumura. Th us, Okumura could hear what he wanted to hear from Korean monks, who had learned long ago in the Chosfn period about how to deal with somebody in power. Later, in a talk at the Meeting Hall of Meiji, Okumura proudly shared with the audience how Korean literati and offi cials told him they enjoyed reading Buddhist scriptures. As if targeting the meditation monk with whom he had hassles with, Okumura added, “Th ey [these literati and offi cials] were greatly diff erent from those who repulsively slander the Buddhism of our country [namely his own sect] without investigating it.”
Th e monk’s challenge to Okumura, perhaps because it was an early encounter, is unusual. His repre sen ta tion of Korean Buddhism as purely self- power oriented and his diff erentiation of it from Okumura’s tradition reveal that some Korean monks had a strong identity in terms of their practice. In this monk’s case, he placed Sfn meditation as the highest. In fact, this attitude was common among many Korean monastics and even among some lay people. For example, when a Jōdoshū missionary to Korea, Tsuruya Kairyū, asked Korean monks and even lay people about practice, they replied that without practicing Sfn, one would not be able to acquire the quintessence of Buddhism. But this monk is not representative of the majority of Korean Buddhists, who tended to practice chanting, study, and meditation inclusively. In fact, the synthetic style of Korean Buddhism allowed Korean monks to shift their identity according to which Japa nese sect they were encountering. If working with the Jōdoshū, the monks would emphasize chanting ( yfmbul ). If working with the Sōtōshū, the monks would emphasize meditation.

Th eir approach became practical in that they presented their sectarian identity fl exibly so that they could curry favors with Japa nese Buddhist missionaries with ease, a strategy that deeply puzzled and frustrated Japa nese Buddhists. Still, for those who did have a strong identity toward one practice, it was clear that power could trump ideals. Th e Sfn monk was instantly silenced upon realizing the power disparity with Okumura. Th e power diff erence surely changed the way Korean Buddhists presented themselves to Japa nese priests.

Okumura’s hours- long debate and his failure to persuade or “convert” the monk except by using blunt tactics reveal how strong the sectarian identity was for Japa nese Buddhist missionaries in the late 1870s. Somebody like Okumura (Nichiren missionaries had an especially strong sectarian identity) did not compromise with other forms of Buddhism.

Nenbutsu was the only legitimate and ultimate way of practice, and Okumura did not have a problem imposing his tradition on Korean Buddhist monks. Th e modernizing pro cess of Meiji Buddhism intensifi ed this sectarian, doctrinal identity, despite priests’ awareness that transsectarian Buddhism was a necessity for a modern religion, a key point that many Japa nese had learned through their travels and through their study of Western scholarship on Buddhism.

Kat Bunky, 1880S And 1890S

Th e Nichiren missionary Katō Bunkyō was one of the most ardent promoters, among Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, of missionary work in Korea. He is representative of those Japa nese missionaries who believed that Japa nese Buddhism was “the center of world Buddhism” and that it was “the most urgent matter” (saidai kyūmu) to “save” Korean Buddhism, which had become a “deserted castle and fallen sun.” For Katō, blocking Christianity in Korea was also a pressing duty for Japa nese Buddhists since the Christianization of Korea, one of the old Buddhist countries of the East, would endanger the in de pen dence of Korea, and eventually result in another symbolic conquering of the world “by the Crucifi x.”
He feared that “in a matter of ten years,” the former Buddhist country

might be “Christianized.” In his mind, Japan would be next. Th e fi rst Japa nese Buddhist missionary to China, Ogurusu, had a similar concern when he went to China in 1873. In Pekin gohōron, he puts forth a PanAsian Buddhist view, stating that it was imperative that India, China, and Japan stick together to protect Asian (Buddhist) civilization. “If any of these countries gets hurt, the other two will become ill as well,” Ogurusu asserted. To Katō, the three countries that would determine the fate of the East were China, Korea, and Japan. He proposed that it be the concerted eff ort of Korean monks and Japa nese priests to “stand the sixcolored golden fl ag of Buddhism against the Cross.”
With this determination, Katō went to Pusan in 1891. By the time he left Korea, in 1900, he had established four small preaching centers. He wrote many articles, letters, and travelogues published in the Nichiren denominational journal Nisshū shinpō (Nichiren Journal ), and later compiled them, and other writings, into two treatises: Treatise on Customary Buddhism of Korea (Fūzoku Bukkyō Chōsen tairon), in 1894, and Treatises on Missionary Work in Korea (Kankoku kaikyōron), in 1900. Both treatises carry, at the end, rec ords of his meetings with Korean monks, which stressed his motives and ideas on how to revitalize Korean Buddhism.

On May 26, 1896, Katō received a visit from an old Korean monk named Wfnjong, who was from the Shingye temple in Kangwfn Province. Katō claimed that Wfnjong was the most prominent and respected master of all thirteen provinces, although in truth Wfnjong was more of a local. Th ey conversed through writings. He opened with expressing his reason for coming to Korea: “I have been propagating in Korea for the last six years. . . . Lamenting the degeneration of Buddhism in your country, I have thought about a remedy.” After complaining about the anti- Buddhist law in Korea, he expressed his worry about the incursion of Christianity: “[Christian missionaries] endeavor to propagate by way of social welfare programs, education, and other methods. Recently, the

Korean king has taken residence in the Rus sian Consulate and is not planning to return to the palace. Taking this opportunity, Christian missionaries, I heard, inspired and baptized the king and his offi cials.

Th e crisis of Buddhism cannot be more serious. What would you do?”
Wfnjong agreed with Katō and added, “Korean offi cials . . . with the pretext of suppressing Christianity . . . are destroying Buddhist temples, shrines, statues, and artifacts. Although I greatly deplore it, it is diffi cult to rectify it due to the spiritless- ness of Korean monks.”
Wfnjong’s comments refl ect the duress under which Korean temples were placed toward the end of the nineteenth century, when extortion by central and local offi cials was worsening. At this point, Katō wrote that the Nichirenshū was the best candidate for protecting Korean Buddhism. He boasted that the Nichirenshū abolished the anti- Buddhist law in 1895, a year before, by petitioning the Korean court and that it explained to Korean offi cials the necessity of worshiping the Buddha. (He was referring to the work of another Nichiren missionary, Sano Zenrei, discussed in the following chapter.)
After representing his sect as the savior of Korean Buddhism, Katō said that the Nichirenshū was planning to build a great meeting hall inside the gates of Seoul and to gather Korean monks there for propagation. Th anking Katō for these projects, Wfnjong inquired as to why Katō desired to assemble Korean monks in central Seoul. Katō gave two reasons: fi rst, he wanted to empower Korean monks, and second, the Nichirenshū was planning to educate and enlighten Korean monks to use them for disseminating Nichiren’s teachings. Later, in the Nichiren

denominational journal, Katō provided more detail on this idea. He proposed that eminent masters in Korea should be invited to inner Seoul to teach and that ten Nichiren priests should be sent to ten infl uential Korean monasteries to study. Katō knew that Seoul had been and would be the center for everything: the future of the Nichirenshū, not to mention that of Korean Buddhism, would be contingent upon establishing a fi rm foundation there.

In this par tic u lar exchange with Wfnjong, Katō’s elaboration of the Nichirenshū’s program was somewhat diff erent from what he had originally envisioned in his fi rst treatise of 1894. At that time, he suggested that Japa nese Buddhism (acting as one) should establish an education facility for Korean monks in Kyoto so that Korean monks could study Nichiren teachings and Japa nese modernity. Japan’s victory in the war against China in 1895 changed Katō’s conception of this program. Th is time, he specifi ed that the Nichirenshū should establish the center. Moreover, he proposed that it should be set up in central Seoul, rather than in Kyoto, which reveals that he anticipated that Korea would come under the sphere of infl uence of Japan and that it would become the arena for competition among other Buddhist sects.

Praising Katō’s plan, Wfnjong promised to join Katō and to urge other Korean monks who had the same objective of saving sentient beings to sign on. However, there was a noticeable miscommunication. While Katō specifi cally stressed the centrality of the Nichirenshū in propagation, Wfnjong did not understand the project in strongly sectarian terms.

With this support from Wfnjong, Katō was emboldened to set forward a plan to post ten Nichiren priests to the head temples of Korea so that they could collaborate with Korean monks there to spread Buddhism.

Out of courtesy, Wfnjong told him that Korean monks would welcome and accommodate them, even though temples were poor and without parishioners (danka). What the Nichirenshū needed for this plan, Katō said, were ten famous (infl uential) temples, including the Yongdam temple on the outskirts of Seoul. Th is idea was in line with one of the propagation programs Katō wrote about in his second essay: “[T]o make use

of 1,600 temples whose buildings are strong and not diff erent from [e.g.,
commensurate in status to] Japa nese temples.”
Without commenting on Katō’s proposal, Wfnjong changed the subject and asked whether Katō would use the Lotus and Avatamsaka
(Flower Garland) sutras, two of the most infl uential Buddhist scriptures in East Asia, for propagation. Here, Katō made his sectarian position clear:
Our sect takes the Lotus sutra as its foundation and it is the rule of the sect not to chant any other scripture. Th erefore, we will make the Lotus Sutra the primary one for propagation in Korea. However, since people in your country are ignorant and do not know the Buddha’s teachings, we will use incantation prayer [kaji kitō] as skillful means for propagation.

Th is pronouncement likely alarmed Wfnjong, who would agree that the Lotus Sutra was a foundational scripture of Mahayana Buddhism but who would not agree that it should be used exclusively, as Korean Buddhists incorporated a breadth of scripture and practices in their studies. He politely alluded to this when he reminded Katō, “Reaching enlightenment through meditation won’t be understandable to lay people anyway.” Th e way Wfnjong put this also implies that he considered meditation to be a higher, even the highest, practice, which means the Lotus Sutra that was so important to Katō was ranked lower. Like the monk who debated with Okumura, this is another piece of evidence that Korean monks understood Buddhist practices hierarchically, with meditation at the top and other forms of practice, such as chanting and sutra studying, at the lower levels. Th us, Katō’s amicable conversation with Wfnjong ended up amplifying their fundamentally diff erent points of view about Buddhist belief, doctrine, and practice, thereby signifying that despite the shared Buddhist tradition it would be challenging to work together.

However, there was at least one success story in which Katō was convinced that he converted some Korean monks. Katō proudly shared the

story in the Nisshū shinpō to get Nichiren believers to take an interest in revitalizing Korean Buddhism and thus to participate in his fund- raising campaign. Katō’s article was presented as a diary entry, and he wrote about Sōk Chaemyfng, the abbot of the T’ongdo temple, and ten other monks visiting Katō at Myōkaku- ji in Pusan in late 1892. Katō entered into a long discussion with Chaemyfng about which sutra was superior:
the Lotus or the Avatamsaka. Even though for Korean Buddhists the Avatamsaka sutra and Sfn practice were intertwined, Katō understood Chaemyfng as prioritizing the Avatamsaka over Sfn. Now, through debate, Katō tried to convert Chaemyfng to the teachings of the Lotus sutra. A couple of months after this meeting, Chaemyfng sent two monks to Katō to invite Katō to visit his temple. Katō interpreted this visit and invitation as evidence that he had won the debate and had converted Chaemyfng. Chaemyfng asked Katō to lead a special retreat at the temple and to elaborate on teachings of the Lotus sutra to 380 monks. Katō wrote that he took nine days off from his temple obligations amidst a busy schedule to lead the retreat. It is likely that Chaemyfng was interested in learning more about the merits of Katō’s style of practice, but if he saw merit in that style, he would have taken an inclusive, rather than exclusive, approach to the Nichiren’s practice. As a result of this relationship, Chaemyfng embraced Katō’s practice and later went to Japan to deepen his study at a Nichiren school.

Katō was greatly devoted to his sect’s teachings. Nearly fi ve years earlier, on March 29, 1891, Katō visited the Taehgngsa temple in Kyfnggi Province, which centered its teachings on the Lotus sutra. Katō sought out this temple because he was trying to fi nd out whether the Nichiren tradition, founded in the thirteenth century in Japan, might have been exported to Korea soon after. As Meiji Buddhists and intellectuals took greater interest in rediscovering prominent fi gures of Japa nese Buddhism, they also began to take a great interest in researching the fi gure Nichiji (1250– 1305?), a disciple of Nichiren during the Kamakura period (1185– 1333). It was believed that in 1295, thirteen years after Nichiren’s death, Nichiji, the found er of the Ren’ei- ji temple in Shizuoka, embarked on a foreign mission (kaigai fukyō) to China, Siberia, and

Korea. Eff orts to track down Nichiji’s history went as far back as Arai Hakuseki (1657– 1725), a prominent Confucian during the Edo period who was fascinated by Nichiji. He inquired with the Korean envoys to Japan whether they had ever heard of Nichiji in an eff ort to prove the historicity of Nichiji’s foreign mission.

Although it was unclear whether Nichiji traveled to Korea or not, Katō fi rmly believed that Nichiji must have spread Nichiren’s teachings in Korea (six hundred years earlier!) and with special permission from the Korean government, undertook a twenty- two day pilgrimage (from March 19 to April 9, 1891) to northern Korea to trace the steps of Nichiji. Because it emphasized the Lotus sutra, Katō speculated that the Taehgng temple belonged to the Hōkke sect (a Nichirenshū branch).

He bluntly asked Tfksan, the abbot of the temple, if he had any knowledge of Nichiji. Tfksan gave a disappointing answer: “I don’t know about him. I don’t know matters in this country from a hundred years ago.

How should I know things from six hundred years ago?” A little bit frustrated, Katō continued to inquire about whether those monks in Korea whose primary text was the Lotus Sutra chanted any sutra other than that. Tfksan replied that they also used the Avatamsaka Sutra. Possibly feeling let down, Katō changed the subject without further discussion on sutras. Katō then asked what kind of practice was respected in Korea. “It is opening one’s mind by practicing Sfn; next, sutra study, chanting ‘Amit’a [Jp. Amida] Buddha,’ and then reciting tantric sutras,” replied Tfksan. Katō must have been terribly disappointed.

Ogurusu, in his travels through China, had similar frustrations when he discovered that Chinese Buddhists did not respect the founding

fathers of Chinese Buddhism as much as Japa nese Buddhists did. He found that important texts had become scattered and lost. Ogurusu bemoaned the lack of sectarian identity in China: “Since I came to Shanghai, whenever meeting Chinese monks, I have asked them about their sectarian affi liations. Th ey always answer that Zen, sutra study, precepts, and the fi ve sects are the same. What is this supposed to mean?” Katō and Ogurusu believed that the motherlands of their Buddhisms had lost their traditions and that Buddhism in these countries was simply a mishmash of practices.

Katō is a good example of how Japa nese Buddhists priests arrived in Korea with multiple objectives and motivations. He was not only concerned about the threat of Christianity but also about the weakness of Korean Buddhism, the expansion and success of his sect, and his personal journey to trace his tradition’s missionary history. Although Katō was unsuccessful in confi rming whether Nichiji had come to Korea, his eff orts sparked a major movement within the Nichirenshū to establish a fi rm foundation in Korea in the coming de cades. Soon after Japan’s annexation of Korea, the Nichirenshū decided to move the historically signifi cant Ren’ei- ji, established by Nichiji, from Japan to Korea. Th e sect believed this move symbolized the recovery of the inseparable relationship between Korea and Nichiren’s teachings, and that this in turn would accomplish the mass conversion of Koreans to the Nichirenshū.

Shaku Unsh, 1906

Shaku Unshō (1827– 1909), a Shingon priest, is another example of a Japa nese Buddhist missionary who had more than just po liti cal motivations for his work. Like Katō, one of the reasons for Unshō’s visit to Korea was to enlighten Korean monks and revive Korean Buddhism.

However, Unshō’s larger goal was to establish in the motherland of Japanese Buddhism— that is, Korea— a style of Buddhism that he had long envisioned but failed to root in Japan. A rigid traditionalist, Unshō disliked the new style of his sect. Th e Meiji government had promulgated a number of new policies for Buddhist clergy, among which was the decriminalization of meat eating and clerical marriage (nikujiki saitai), in

1872. For somebody like Unshō, and like Fukuda Gyōkai, who strongly believed that the persecution of Buddhism was due to the moral degeneration of Japa nese priests, these changes came as a shock. Without the state’s punitive enforcement of precepts, Unshō believed that it would be impossible to preserve the purity of the sangha. Unshō protested and petitioned the government to repeal the 1872 policy. He criticized new Buddhists (shin Bukkyōsha) who did not pay attention to the indispensability of the vinaya and who single- mindedly focused on modernizing and secularizing Buddhism. His infl exible adherence to precepts as the only way to save Buddhism from further degeneration alienated him from many Buddhists and even from the Shingonshū to which he belonged. Unshō desired to return to the ancient Sōniryō (Regulations for Monks and Nuns) system of the Nara period (710– 794). Gaining no traction for his ideas in Japan, Unshō eventually contemplated creating a new sect himself (he called it the Risshū) based strictly on precepts and, as a fi rst step, opened a school in Japan for learning precepts called Mejirō Sōin in 1900.

Unshō came to Korea on June 30, 1906, at the age of eighty and stayed for 124 days. He believed that Korea’s having become a protectorate of Japan just a year before provided a golden opportunity to make his vision a reality in Korea. Prior to his trip, he wrote in “Th e Reason for a Visit to Korea” (RaiKan no yōshi):
I would like to select an optimal place in Korea and establish a monastery. First and foremost, precepts will be its principle, to eradicate the corruption of monastics. On the basis of the old scriptures given to our imperial family by Great Korea [in ancient times], I would like to disseminate through the Buddha’s true precepts the pure sublimity of the fi rst vehicle of exoteric and esoteric teachings.

By revitalizing the great dharma, which is about to disappear, I would like to serve the Imperial court of Great Korea.

By establishing an exemplary monastery where precepts would be used as a founding principle, he desired to achieve several ends: correct evil practices among Korean monks; express gratitude back (hōhon hanshi) to Korea for the Buddhism that Japan had received from the Paekchae dynasty in the sixth century; and contribute to educating Koreans about the benevolence of the Korean emperor.

Unshō mistakenly believed that Resident- General Itō Hirobumi
(1841– 1909), who had been the key drafter of the Meiji constitution in 1889, was also about to establish “a new constitution of Korea” that would allow Unshō to amend the estranged relationship between state and Buddhism, and thus he thought his visit was timely. What Itō was

working on was merely the Court Or ga ni za tion Law of 1907, in which Japa nese legal advisors were to be appointed to major courts. Without knowing this, though, Unshō planned to persuade the Korean emperor, Korean high offi cials, and Itō to include in this new constitution a provision elevating Korean Buddhism to a state religion, which in his view Japa nese Buddhism had failed to become, and to designate precepts as the core practice of Buddhism. He had spent years attempting to accomplish these ends in Japan.

Elated by the prospect of the constitutional revision, Unshō sent a series of petitions to the Korean emperor and Korean offi cials in which he laid out a systematic, state- sponsored policy on Buddhism. He suggested the fi rst priority would be to set up the Department of Religion
(Shūkyōbu) in which a Research Institute of Buddhism would undertake articulating matters on Buddhist doctrines, monastic codes of behavior, and the effi cacy of Buddhism for the state. With this grand vision, Unshō embarked on visiting two major monasteries in Korea. First, he selected the T’ongdo temple, which many considered the foremost temple of the eight provinces of Korea. On his way to the temple from the port city of Pusan, Unshō made quite a scene among the Koreans because they were not accustomed to seeing a monk riding a horse. Unshō met a group of Korean monks including Kim Yongsfng (the abbot), Hyegyfn, and Chang Pfbun at the T’ongdo temple. Since Hyegyfn could not write Chinese, Chang Pfbun wrote a greeting for Unshō on behalf of Hyegyfn: “Th e master [Unshō] of eighty years age was not bothered by the distance of a thousand li and came all the way here for the dharma. Isn’t it wonderful?! Even though the language is diff erent, the essence of truth is the same.” How Unshō responded to Hyegyfn is not recorded, but it seems the mood was amicable. Hyegyfn’s greeting shows that Korean monks at the time, although aware of cultural diff erences, felt some kinship with Japa nese priests through the shared religious tradition.

However, Unshō was not the only priest who considered this temple a potential venue for his reform programs. When Unshō was visiting, Okumura Enshin was also at the temple, working on converting the temple to his own sect. Okumura was assisting the monks to establish a modern school for young monastics. Although Unshō did not leave any record on how he felt about a Shinshū priest, who had renounced celibacy, it must have been an awkward encounter between the two priests whose religious lifestyles were incompatible with each other. It is known, according to one newspaper report, that, Okumura “paid great respect” to Unshō and kept a book by Unshō on his desk.

After touring the temple complex, Unshō moved to the next prominent temple, Haeinsa. Th e temple was often considered one of three major monasteries in Korea, and it was where the Koryf taejangkyfng
(a collection of the Buddhist scriptures), carved in wood panels in the thirteenth century, was preserved. For this reason, the temple was known even to Westerners, including to US. Navy ensign George Foulk (1856– 1893), who visited in 1884 and praised the library as “the most wonderful feature of the temple.”
Unshō conversed with four Korean monks at Haein Temple. Kyfngmyfng, Unghf, Yongban, and Manhf communicated with Unshō in writing over the course of three meetings. Unshō met fi rst with Kyfngmyfng, who asked about Unshō’s physical condition from the long trip from Japan. Unshō’s answer informed the monk of his intentions: “My old body is greatly exhausted but my trip this time is just for the sake of the dharma, nothing else.” Th ey then discussed their lineages. Unshō introduced himself as a monk from the Shingonshū, an esoteric sect founded by Master Kōbō (774– 835) on the basis of the Vairocana Sutra
(Dainichikyō). Kyfngmyfng responded that Korean Buddhism had three sects: Sfn, sutra study (Kyo), and chanting. Precepts (yul or ritsu) were subsumed under the study sect. A bit taken aback, Unshō picked up the

subject of precepts by asking whether there were the traditional three distinctions in the Korean ordination system. Kyfngmyfng realized that Unshō assumed there was a distinctive sect based on precepts and answers: “Th ere is no precept sect in Korea.” As if Kyfngmyfng’s answer sounded unusual, Unshō pointed out that there were separate schools in Japan— Kegon, Tendai, Shingon, Hossō, Sanron, Zen, Nenbutsu, and others— that had distinctive practices. Kyfngmyfng responded, “Th ere are no in de pen dent sects [in Korea] and, although there is an emphasis on chanting, Korean monks don’t set up any sectarian distinctions.” As Katō and Ogurusu discovered, Unshō found himself facing quite a different kind of Buddhism. Unshō, realizing how narrow his view of the primacy of precepts must have sounded to Korean monks who blended practices together, accommodated Kyfngmyfng yet maintained his position, writing, “Th e practitioner of precepts does not diff erentiate Mahayana and Hinayana,” meaning that the practice of precepts undergirded all Buddhist traditions.

Th e next day Unshō met Yongban, who was introduced as a Zen and precept practitioner. Yongban asked directly, “With what kind of teachings did you come this far?” Unshō answered, “I am deeply concerned about the weakening of the true dharma. If there is anybody who could be my teacher, I would like to seek his guidance. However, if there is anybody who desires to be my disciple, I would defi nitely bring him along. Th e only requirement is whether he has faith in the dharma or not.” Yongban responded, “Th ere is no here and there in the rise and fall of the dharma.” He suggested that Unshō proceed with looking for a young monk at the Haein temple who could be his disciple.

Unghf, present at the meeting, stepped in and contrasted Japa nese and Korean Buddhism. He said that Korea introduced Buddhism to Japan but that while there were now many Buddhists of high quality in Japan, there were none in Korea any longer. Even if there appeared a prominent master with wisdom, people did not respect him, and therefore

he hid himself and did not come out. Yongban begged Unshō to restore the deteriorated dharma in Korea. Unable to hide his frustration with his own Buddhism in Japan, Unshō honestly replied, “It is also deteriorated in Japan and there is none who could help your Buddhism. Th ere are only new Buddhists [in Japan] who are just arrogant and ignorant.” (Unshō’s assessment was also echoed by Jōdo missionary Tsuruya Kairyū in 1911. Th e dilapidated condition of Korean temples reminded Tsuruya of some temples in Japan. Tsuruya likewise felt that it would therefore be diffi cult to enlighten Korean Buddhism through the Japa nese Buddhist tradition.) Yongban added that the monks of the Haein temple had tried to preserve temple properties, but that since Koreans admired the new system of education (sinhangmun) they attempted to turn temples and hermitages into schools.

Unshō came back to the topic of precepts and asked how many in Korea observed precepts strictly. Unghf wrote, as did other monks responding to Okumura and Katō’s questions, Korean monks consider Sfn as the supreme practice. It goes without saying that Sfn practitioners include precepts in their practice. . . . Others who are taking care of temple matters are not all that wise. At the Paengnyfnam temple
[a branch of the Haein temple], there are several who are advanced in Sfn practice. Manhf, Mansfng, and Yongban [the same Yongban present at the meeting] who have gained insights into the dharma carry just one robe and bowl as possessions. . . . Th e abbot of the temple takes care of the temple administration but is ignorant of the dharma.

Th en, Unghf asked Unshō, “Earlier you told us that you came to Korea for the dharma. Would you like to take a look at the monks of our country practicing?” Unshō wrote, Korea is the motherland of our Buddhism. Th erefore, I would like to repay her with gratitude. If there are superior teachings, I would love to seek them, but if there are not, I would like to return my gratitude with the teachings previously Encounters between Japa nese Priests and Korean Monks 103 given to us. And in the future, I would love to transmit it to able students who have faith.

Th e following day, Unshō met Manhf, whom Unghf introduced as one of the several masters who are advanced in their practice. Unshō begged to receive a teaching from him and Manhf answered with typical Sfn rhetoric, “Th ere is inherently nothing. What can I show you?” Unshō again beseeched his teaching. Manhf reluctantly spat out a stanza: “A
moon refl ects in the long sky. And the waves of ten thousand rivers do not inherently have many streams.” Unshō raved, “Wonderful! Wonderful!” Manhf replied, “Embarrassing! Embarrassing!” Th is is a rare recording of an interaction between Japa nese and Korean masters exchanging their spiritual achievements, a Zen discourse that has been performed for centuries since its inception in China. In addition, this is one of the few moments in which national and sectarian identities did not overshadow the conversation.

After his meetings with the monks at the Haein temple, Unshō later attended the opening ceremony of a preaching hall of the Shingonshū Chisan- ha branch in Seoul. To put his vision into practice, Unshō also met with Resident- General Itō and suggested that he, Unshō, should take charge of all Korean Buddhism. However, Itō declined to take up Unshō’s request. Unshō’s grand plan to establish an ideal monastery and make Korean Buddhism (or his own version of Buddhism) a state religion in Korea, in addition to his broader dream of missionizing in America, ended with his death on April 13, 1909.

Unshō’s conversations with these three Korean monks force us to diversify our understanding of the motives of Japa nese priests who went to Korea. Clearly, not everybody had objectives in sync with the state’s. Unshō’s frustration with Japa nese new Buddhism (shin Bukkyō), which disregarded precepts, prompted him to seek a new home in the motherland of Japa nese Buddhism. His petitions to the Korean emperor indicate that, like others, he was intent on reviving moribund Korean Buddhism.

But Unshō was motivated less by the ideology that motivated Katō, in propagation as a civilizing mission. For Unshō, Korea was a place where true, original Buddhism could be recovered, something impossible in modern Japan. In this type of motivation, there is very little about Japanese nationalism and more about Buddhism as a tradition, an inclination that this type of Japa nese priest shared with many Korean monks.

Conclusion

From the encounters of the three Buddhist missionaries with Korean monks, one can fi nd some important perspectives that are crucial to understanding the later relationship between the two Buddhisms. Japanese historian Fujii Takeshi has suggested three diff erent attitudes Japanese Buddhist missionaries had toward other Asians: that Buddhism is the one religion of the East that can challenge Christianity; that Buddhism is a Japa nese religion closely associated with the national body
(kokutai); and that Buddhism is a modern philosophy that can bring social enlightenment. Fujii recommends that scholars should bear in mind how Japa nese Buddhist missionaries crisscrossed these three attitudes in accordance with social, po liti cal, economic, and international situations. As these encounters suggest, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries had much more diverse attitudes in Korea. Some, like Katō, desired to block Christianity and revitalize Korean Buddhism by propagation. Others, like Okumura and Katō, wanted to expand sectarian teachings by making use of Korean temples and monastics. Still others, like Katō and Unshō, strove to trace back the origin of their tradition. A few, like Unshō, envisioned establishing an ideal Buddhist community.

Another important point is that these interactions illuminate greater diff erences than similarities between Buddhists of the two countries. Th e growing awareness of their diff erences forced them to constantly negotiate, contest, and modify their own traditions. Th e very encounter of Japa nese Buddhists with Korean monks, therefore, is part of the modernizing pro cess of both Japa nese and Korean Buddhism, since, through this contact, their own identities became much clearer. In addition, one

sees that Korean monks represented themselves to Japa nese Buddhists in a consistent way, at least in the initial meeting. Th erefore, despite the lack of an institutional identity as the result of the state’s disestablishment of Korean Buddhism in the Chosfn period, Korean monastics in the late nineteenth century had a clear understanding of Sfn as supreme. Although they were doing Sfn in conjunction with other practices, there was a certain dominant discourse of Sfn as the orthodoxy of the Korean Buddhist tradition, an orthodoxy that would become much more conspicuous after 1908, when Korean monks had the greatest contact with Japa nese priests. Th e relationship with Japa nese Buddhists forced Korean monks to seriously refl ect on their identity. In a sense, these early encounters present a prelude to later intellectual debates among Korean Buddhists during the colonial period regarding what is the authentic and distinctive identity of Korean Buddhism, particularly in comparison with Japa nese and Chinese Buddhism and in the context of Buddhist history.

However, in the pre- colonial and early colonial period, Korean monks did not necessarily present their Sfn-based identity so categorically, because they needed a broader identity in order to deal with non- Zen sects from Japan such as the Nichirenshū, the Jōdoshū, and the Jōdoshinshū.

Another crucial theme is that Japa nese priests saw Korea as the motherland of Japa nese Buddhism. Although that fact was used to underscore the deplorable condition of Korean Buddhism, as Katō did, it was equally used to emphasize a shared identity as Buddhists, as Unshō did. However, the more that Japa nese Buddhists spotlighted this undeniable historical fact, the weaker the supersessionist logic of their own tradition over Korean Buddhism became, and the more it empowered Korean monks. As a result, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries were inherently

limited in dominating Korean monastics. Th roughout the colonial period, Japa nese missionaries used this rhetoric of Korea as the motherland of Japa nese Buddhism and the obligation of Japa nese to return gratitude to court Korean Buddhists. At the same time, starting in the 1920s, Korean Buddhist intellectuals sharpened this rhetoric to assert that Korean Buddhism had civilized ancient Japan.

Chapter 3 Japa Nese Buddhist Missions To Korea

Aboard the S.S. Empress India, en route to Yokohama, Japan, from Vancouver, Canada, the prominent Korean Christian intellectual Yun Ch’iho
(1865– 1945) shared a room with two Japa nese Buddhists. Yatsubuchi Banryū (1848– 1926), a Jōdoshinshū priest, and Noguchi Zenshirō, a lay Buddhist and translator, were on their way back from the 1893 World’s Parliament of Religion, in Chicago. Th ere, they, along with three other priests, had presented Japa nese Buddhism as the essence of Japa nese civilization and the fl ower of Mahayana Buddhism. Yun, who had despised Buddhism and thought of it as a dying religion that had failed Eastern civilization, recorded his conversation with Yatsubuchi and Noguchi in his diary, writing that they “bragged about the Buddhist triumphs in the Parliament of Religions— they said that Buddhism was the only religion that drew the audience.” Yun then wrote that Yatsubuchi said, “In Japan, everybody is a Buddhist. Th ere is no fi eld uncultivated. Hence we must occupy new lands. Missionary activity will check sectarian strife at home by sending out those who are never happy except in fi ght. Th at was the plan of Napoleon I, to keep the French from cutting each others’ throats.” Th is account raises two important observations about Japa nese Buddhism during this period, matters that Japanese Buddhist priests were well aware of themselves. First, that it was believed that Japan was a Buddhist country and there were sects vying

with each other. Second, that sectarian competition for limited domestic real estate would be alleviated by having sects missionize abroad.

Yun might not have realized that Korea was one of those foreign frontiers that Japa nese Buddhism had set its sight on. Just one year later, after the end of the Sino- Japanese War, Korea became a land for sectarian expansion. In 1903, the nationalist Korean historian Pak Unsik (1859–
1925) observed that Japa nese Buddhism’s arrival to Korea marked an ironic twist of history: “Buddhism was transmitted from Korea to Japan many years ago, but now it is returning from Japan to Korea.”
Th is chapter looks closely at the work of the four Buddhist sectsnamely the Higashi Honganji (Ōtani- ha), the Nichirenshū, the Jōdoshū, and the Nishi Honganji (Honganji- ha)—that were comparatively the most active in foreign propagation in Korea in this period. (Japa nese Buddhism had twelve sects and more than thirty branches at the time.)
Meiji Buddhism, as discussed in chapter 1, was preoccupied with formulating a Pan- Asian Buddhist identity in order to respond to Christianity and other religions new to the area. At the same time, each sect was consolidating its particularistic identity by codifying teachings and expanding its sectarian reach in order to survive and prove its utility to the state. Th e founding generation of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries to Korea went primarily to care for Japa nese residents, but they also had in mind converting Koreans. Upon witnessing the relatively dismal condition of Korean Buddhism and perceiving the growing threat of Christianity, Japa nese missionaries undertook a mission civilisatrice to “enlighten” and “civilize” Korean monastics. Each sect had the larger aspiration to bring all of Korean Buddhism under its wing from the very beginning, starting with the fi rst Buddhist missionary Okumura Enshin of the Higashi Honganji, to Sano Zenrei of the Nichirenshū, to Inoue Genshin of the Jōdoshū, to Ōtani Hōdō of the Honganji- ha.

One strategy that priests used was to apply the same discourse on the inseparability of the emperor and the dharma (ohō buppō) to the Korean king (called “emperor” from 1897 until 1909). Th ey approached the Korean court to receive the state’s support for their propagation by emphasizing their faithfulness to the Korean ruler, and by promising to install

tablets of the Korean king and queen in their temples and schools. Th e Korean court responded with generous donations and administrative con ve niences. At the same time, Japa nese Buddhists challenged the antiBuddhist policies of the Korean government and lobbied to persuade Korean offi cials, both pro- Japanese and not, to reincorporate Buddhism into the state system. Because of their po liti cal and institutional prerogatives, Japa nese Buddhists were able to garner support from high Korean offi cials who saw in these priests opportunities to further their po liti cal careers. Japa nese Buddhist missionaries succeeded in returning Buddhism to the center of Seoul by holding events within the four gates, something Korean monks had been prevented from doing for centuries. Th eir work, albeit in great part motivated by their sectarian expansion, deeply impressed Korean monks, who started to realize the contrast in social status between them and their Japa nese counterparts.

Th e Japa nese priests’ collaboration with Korean monks to reassert the signifi cance of Korean Buddhism opened up a new era for the Korean sangha. However, despite good though self- serving intentions, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries’ aggressiveness to recruit Korean monastics, driven by sectarianism, caused trouble, creating further instability and resentment among Koreans.

Higashi Honganji (Ōtani- Ha)

An American Orientalist and clergyman William Elliot Griffi s (1843–
1928) observed in 1882 the unusual development of the Higashi Honganji in the following way:
Among the surprises of history is the fact that, in 1876, the Shin, or Reformed sect of Japa nese Buddhists, sent their missionaries to Corea to preach and convert. . . . Evidently this vigorous sect is resolutely endeavoring not only to recoup the losses which Christianity has made in its ranks in Japan, but is determined to forestall the exertions of Christian missionaries in the [Korean] peninsula.

Westerners, like Griffi s, noticed that the commencement of the missions of Japa nese Buddhism in Korea was unpre ce dented, serious, and ironic.

It was apparent to him that the missionary eff ort was in great part motivated by Christianity’s advances.

Okumura Enshin, whose debate with a Korean monk was discussed in the previous chapter, established the fi rst branch of the Higashi Honganji in Korea in 1877, making it the fi rst Japa nese Buddhist sect to commence missionary work in Korea in the modern era. However, Okumura was not the fi rst missionary to Korea in the long history of the Higashi Honganji. According to Chōsen kaikyō gojūnenshi (Rec ords on the fi ftieth year of the mission to Korea), the fi rst Shinshū priest was Okumura Jōshin. Arriving three hundred years before Okumura Enshin, Okumura Jōshin established the Kōtoku- ji temple in Pusan in 1585 with the ultimate objective of proselytizing in China. However, because of Hideyoshi’s invasion of Korea in 1592, he had to retreat to Japan and, after another brief trip to Korea in 1598, he returned to Japan permanently. In 1601, Okumura Jōshin built a temple with the same name, Kōtoku- ji, in Karatsu City, Kyūshū. Okumura Enshin was the thirteenth abbot of this temple. Th is connection was important enough for the Meiji government, when it needed Buddhist involvement in Korean matters, to advise the Higashi Honganji to send a missionary to Korea. When Home Minister Ōkubo and Foreign Minister Terashima sounded it, Okumura Enshin, a descendent of Okumura Jōshin, was selected along with Hirano Esui. Th e Higashi Honganji had another special connection to Korea from the pre- modern period. During the Edo period, the Asakusa Honganji temple, a branch of the Higashi Honganji, was where Korea’s emissaries stayed on visits to Japan. Following longheld tradition, in 1880 the Korean ambassador to Japan, Kim Hongjip
(1842– 1896), and his entourage stayed there. Th us, although the dispatch

of a Buddhist missionary to Korea looked unusual to Griffi s and other Westerners, it was not an entirely new phenomenon in light of the long diplomatic history in which the Ōtani- ha had played a role.

In Pusan, Okumura worked closely with the Japa nese government to set up a pro- Japanese government in Korea, with the idea of future reciprocity in which a pro- Japanese government would assist the Higashi Honganji in establishing itself in Korea. During the fi rst several years, Okumura also reached beyond the rather small Japa nese community to establish schools for Koreans. Along with his sister Okumura Ioko (1845–
1907), the fi rst female Buddhist missionary to Korea in the modern period, he also built a professional school for Koreans in Kwangju in 1898.

Okumura did not need to reach out to form relationships with Korean monks. Korean monks, many from the Pfmf and T’ongdo temples but coming from all corners of the country, visited his temple, and Okumura would give them a Shinshū text, Shinshū kyōshi (Th e Essential Teachings of True Pure Land Buddhism), written by Ogurusu in 1876.

Sometimes they came in groups: one day, fi fty monks visited. Okumura formed close relationships with a number of Korean monks— Yi Tong’in, Mubul (T’ak Chfngsik or Kakji, ?– 1884), Ch’a Hongsik, and Yi Yunho— and these monks in turn played major roles in Korea’s Enlightenment Movement. Th ey all, one way or another, were under the support and protection of the Higashi Honganji.

At the center of this group of monks was Yi Tong’in, acclaimed as the fi rst modernizer of Korea (discussed in chapter 1). It is worth going into detail about Yi’s relationship with the Higashi Honganji and his life, for the complexities of the relationship reveal much about how Japa nese and Korean Buddhists used each other. Yi fi rst visited Okumura on June 2, 1878. Later, with Okumura’s help, he secretly went to Japan and commenced a rather dramatic career. In less than three years, from 1879 until he disappeared in early 1881, Yi Tong’in, with the backing of the Higashi Honganji, left indelible contributions to the Kaehwa movement: he was the fi rst Korean monk to study in Japan (1879– 1880); the fi rst to contact and befriend British diplomats such as Ernest Satow (1843– 1929) (May 1880) and the fi rst to contact Fukuzawa Yukichi (April 1880); the fi rst Korean to become a member of Kōakai (the Rise Asia Society, April 1880); and the fi rst to bring modern artifacts such as matches, glasses, lamps, and watches to the Chosfn court (September 1880). In addition, he was the fi rst Korean monk to reordain in a Japanese Buddhist tradition, the Hagashi Honganji. Even before Yi showed up at Okumura’s temple, he had already engaged the Kaehwa party, which was under the leadership of Yu Taech’i and Kim Okkyun. Th ey envisioned bringing radical changes to Korea and thought that Japan was a model of what they hoped to accomplish. Trying to fi nd a way to increase contact with Japan, the Kaehwa party

chose Yi as the best candidate to form relationships with Japa nese politicians. Someone like Okumura, a Japa nese Buddhist priest, could act as a conduit for access to the Japa nese government. Okumura rec ords that when Yi fi rst met him, Yi lamented that the “Chosfn’s fortunes were deteriorating day by day and religion is about to crumble.” Yi’s second visit to Okumura took place on December 9, and this was followed by many other visits. During conversations, Yi often fretted over the decay of Chosfn society and deplored the demise of Chosfn religion (Buddhism).

He even expressed a desire to “eradicate the Neo- Confucian regime.”
Th eir mutual concerns and religious affi nities led Yi and Okumura to form a deep friendship.

If Okumura had in mind converting the intelligent and reformminded Yi to his own sect, Yi had in mind using Okumura’s connections to get himself sponsored for travel in Japan in order to experience modernity. On the pretext of being eager to study Buddhism, Yi begged Okumura to send him to Japan. Okumura arranged a trip and had Yi stay in Higashi temples. Okumura even introduced Yi to infl uential politicians in Japan. In April 1880, Yi was ordained as a Higashi Honganji priest and started to work, or so Okumura and the Higashi Honganji assumed, as a Higashi Honganji missionary. Yi renamed himself “Asano,”
which translates as “Chosfn savage.” Because of his affi liations with Japa nese Buddhism and renaming himself, later Korean scholar Im Hyebong stigmatized Yi as the fi rst pro- Japanese monk in Korea. He is also maligned because he was the fi rst Korean to change his name to a Japa nese one, an infamous practice imposed on Koreans in the 1940s by the Japa nese colonial government. However, Yi’s actions should be characterized as strategic in order to ensure his safety and the Honganji’s

institutional, po liti cal support. Even his self- deprecating name was not an indication of an ac cep tance of inferiority to the Japa nese, as Im charges, but rather, as Vladimir Tikhonov has argued, “a common means of intercultural communication in the region at the time.” Challenging Im’s nationalist interpretation, Tikhonov argues that “even most foreigners who lived in Korea at that time had to form Korean names for themselves.” Moreover, the humbleness of Yi’s new name was meant to garner support from the Japa nese. Later, when he emerged as an important po liti cal player in the Korean court, managing relations with Japan, Yi discarded the name Asano and replaced it with his original name, Tong’in.

Apparently, Yi’s transformation to a Higashi monk gave him a higher status and boosted his po liti cal career, especially (ironically) in dealing with Korean offi cials. When Kim Hongjip, the leader of the Second Courtier’s Observation Mission (sinsayuramdan), visited Japan with his entourage to reach some crucial diplomatic agreements with the Japanese government, Japan used Yi as a mediator to fi nd a breakthrough in stalled negotiations. Th is is signifi cant because, during the Chosfn dynasty, the government strictly prohibited monks from leaving Korea, and Yi normally would have faced arrest and, potentially, the death penalty. Moreover, Korean monks were not allowed to talk to yangban face to face. But, dressed in the robes of a Japa nese monk, Yi sat facing Kim, one of the highest Chosfn offi cials, in a foreign country. To do this, Yi must have felt confi dent that both the Japa nese government and the Higashi Honganji would protect him if things went wrong.

Kim must have been concerned that Yi was acting on behalf of the Japa nese, especially since Kim heard Yi speak fl uently in Japa nese (at least to Kim’s ears). However, Yi successfully impressed Kim by proving his patriotic intentions. Soon, Yi became Kim’s protégé and was

introduced to King Kojong, who came to place a great deal of trust in him. Yi frequently visited the court, which was a serious violation at that time for a Korean- ordained monk. To avoid causing problems, Yi tactfully robed himself in Confucian clothes and put on a hairpiece (the Confucian topknot) whenever he visited the court.

Yi’s reordination was a big victory for Okumura, who dreamed of establishing a pro- Japanese government, which in turn would help his sect dominate the landscape of religion in Korea. A Korean monk now with the Higashi Honganji tradition was working directly with the Korean king and high offi cials. Moreover, Mubul, a monk from the Paektam temple in Kangwfn Province, was also working closely with Kim and King Kojong as a government agent, busing himself between the two countries. In addition, the members of the Kaehwa party, including Kim Okkyun, Pak Yfnghyo, and Sf Kwangbfm, who from Okumura’s perspective were pro- Japanese and pro– Higashi Honganji, started to play key roles in ushering the secluded Korea into the arms of enlightenment and civilization, and into the sphere of infl uence of his own sect. It was a matter of time, Okumura must have believed, that, with the help of Yi and reform- minded Korean offi cials, Korean Buddhism would be brought under the umbrella of the Higashi Honganji.

Okumura’s vision for controlling all of Korean Buddhism is captured in a letter written to the headquarters of the Higashi Honganji on January 26, 1881, titled “Petition to Disseminate [Shinshū] Teachings in Chōsen.” He writes, For eff ective propagation, it is indispensable to obtain the protection of the [Korean] ruler and ministers. . . . If the Honganji, keeping in step with the
[Japa nese] government, establishes temples at optimal places between Kyfngs-fng [Seoul or Jp. Keijō] and Inch’fn [J. Jinsen] as soon as possible and shows the infl uence of controlling all the temples in Korea, the Korean government would not disregard it. . . . It is a golden opportunity to dominate all the monastics and lay people in this country.

To his delight, less than a month later, Okumura heard an elating piece of news. On February 25, King Kojong, despite offi cials’ protests, nominated Yi as advisor to the newly established Offi ce for the Management of State Aff airs (T’ongni kimuamun), a high po liti cal position. For Korean Buddhist monks, it was unthinkable that a monastic would be able to assume such a position, given that the Chosfn dynasty had prohibited it. Yi was subsequently assigned to purchase a Japa nese gunboat and introduce modern technology from Japan. Th is assignment carries echoes of the way in which Chosfn offi cials, including King Kojong, perceived monastics largely as military functionaries.

Not long after Yi’s appointment, Okumura and the Higashi Honganji’s rosy vision suff ered a series of setbacks. Yi disappeared, and rumor spread that he was assassinated by conservatives who were against the nomination. In addition, Mubul, who had taken over Yi’s role, caught an incurable disease and died abruptly in Japan. Mubul’s body was brought to the Higashi Asakusa betsuin temple. With Fukuzawa Yukichi and two hundred other politicians and priests attending the funeral, and with Kim Okkyun as head mourner, Okumura had to perform the ceremony.

A similar fate befell other Kaehwa members on whom Okumura and the Higashi Honganji had placed high hopes. In 1884, the Kaehwa party attempted a coup of the government. Soon after the three- day coup failed, Yu Taech’i fl ed while Kim Okkyun and Pak Yfnghyo went into exile in Japan. Many other Kaehwa members were arrested and summarily executed, one of whom was the monk Ch’a Hongsik. A fourth monk, Yi Yunho, followed Kim Okkyun to Japan and, as mentioned previously, served Kim as a cook in Hokkaidō. Anti- Japanese sentiment swept through Korea, causing Okumura and his sect, who had been leading supporters of the Kaehwa party, to lay low until the mood shifted.

One more fact that, had he known about it, would have truly disappointed Okumura was Yi’s ulterior motives. Yi’s close associations with Okumura, whom Yi called his “savior,” and with the Higashi Honganji did not deter Yi from acting against their expectations. In 1880, when Yi was working on behalf of the Korean government to reach a diplomatic accord with Western countries, Yi met with the British diplomat Ernest Satow. Yi taught Satow the Korean language and, in the course of conversations, conveyed that Koreans did not trust the Japanese because of the bitter memories of Hideyoshi’s invasions in the late sixteenth century. Yi thought that Japan should thus be excluded as a trading intermediary between Korea and Eu ro pe an nations. Yi indicated that En gland could be a better partner for Korea. Yi’s doubledealing means that Yi’s connection to the Higashi Honganji was strategic in nature.

Th e missionary eff orts of the Higashi Honganji suff ered further setbacks because of internal problems. A year before the failed Kaehwa coup, in 1883, the Ōtani- ha became mired in a power struggle between Atsumi Kaien (1840– 1906) and Ishikawa Shūntai (1842– 1931), two infl uential administrators. Atsumi did not favor the excessive outfl ow of resources of the Ōtani- ha for foreign missions, missions initiated by Ishikawa. Th us, Atsumi infl uenced the Ōtani- ha to discontinue propagation in China and to close the preaching post in Wfnsan, Korea.

As a result, the Ōtani- ha’s propagation eff orts retreated. Even though it resumed missions in late 1885, this series of incidents weakened the Higashi Honganji’s missionizing eff ort in Korea for the following de cade.

Japan’s victory in the Sino- Japanese War of 1895 rekindled the Ōtaniha’s zeal to overtake Korean Buddhism. Ogurusu reported to the Ōtani- ha in 1897 that “Korean monks are lethargic and spiritless. It is the task of Japa nese Buddhists to open the eyes of the Chosfn monks.

When I say ‘Japa nese religion,’ [I mean that] it is the Ōtani- ha, with the strength of the sunrise, [that] should shake up Chosfn.”
With this supersessionistic attitude, Ōtani- ha missionaries approached the Korean court to curry favor and committed themselves to glorifying the rule of the Korean emperor. Th e responses from the Korean courts were positive. In 1898, the prince and emperor of Imperial Korea donated two thousand wfn and one thousand wfn, respectively, for constructing an Ōtani- ha temple in Seoul. Ōtani Shōson (1858–
1913), proxy for the head priest of the Ōtani- ha, and his attendant, Ogurusu Ken’ichi (Ogurusu Kōchō’s younger brother), visited Korea to meet with and convey thanks to the Korean emperor. At the meeting on October 20, Ōtani expressed his intention to enshrine tablets at this temple of the Korean emperor, the queen, and the prince as a way of praying that they live long lives. He explained he would do so because, what ever the law of the ruler is, it is also the foundational teaching of the Ōtani- ha.

Ōtani did not forget to make an important request: “We are planning to propagate our religion [Jōdoshinshū] in Korea and I would like the support of your court.” Th e construction of the branch temple in Seoul took many years, due to fi nancial diffi culties within the sect. But until it was completed, in 1906, the Korean emperor and queen did not mind having Japa nese priests pray for the court and, thus, donated money for construction and provided administrative con ve niences. With its optimistic prospects in Korea, the Ōtani- ha decided to reallocate resources for propagation from Taiwan to Korea as of 1902. However, the Ōtani- ha was not the only Japa nese Buddhist sect on the peninsula: others had arrived and were beginning to exert their own sectarian expansion by approaching the Korean court and monks. In the forefront was the Nichirenshū.

Nichirenshū

Th e Nichirenshū’s fi rst mission to Korea allegedly goes back to the late thirteenth century when, as mentioned in the previous chapter, Nichiji was believed to have come to Korea. Another connection was established during the Imjin War of the 1590s when three native Koreans, ages thirteen, six, and four, were taken captive and brought to Japan. A prominent general, Katō Kiyomasa (1562– 1611), an ardent Nichiren Buddhist, visited a small temple in Kyfngsang Province during his fi rst campaign in 1593. Th ere, Katō found a smart temple boy, age thirteen, brought him back to Japan, and made him a Nichiren priest with the ordination name Nichiyō (1580– 1659). Nichiyō stayed at Honmyō- ji in Kumamoto, Kyūshū. During his second campaign in 1597, Katō came back with two more young children, ages four and six, as captives. Both of them were grandchildren of King Sfnjo, and Katō made the younger a Nichiren priest with the dharma name Nichien (1589– 1665). Nichien later became the eigh teenth abbot of the Tanjō- ji temple in Chiba. Nichiyō and Nichien never returned to Korea.

Other than these historic connections, the fi rst Nichiren missionary to the Korean peninsula in the modern period was Watanabe Nichiun, who established a preaching hall in Pusan in 1881. A number of others followed, including Asahi Nichimyō (1833– 1916) and Katō Bunkyō, both of whom were the most serious of all Nichiren believers about foreign missions. In 1893, Asahi, who later became the head priest of the Nichirenshū, established the Foreign Mission Society to cater to Japanese immigrants and revive Korean Buddhism. In its prospectus, Asahi states his concern: “After the invasion of Christianity in Chosfn, the number of Christians is about to reach as many as tens of thousands. Alas, how can we as Buddhists sit back and watch the devastation of Korean Buddhism?” He placed the central religious offi ce of the society

at Myōkaku- ji in Pusan, which he had had built, and appointed Katō as its secretary.

Of these early Nichiren missionaries it was Sano Zenrei whose work in Korea, though brief, had the greatest impact on Korean Buddhism.

Sano came to Korea on March 2, 1895, with an eye to incorporate Korean Buddhism into his own sect and to make Nichiren’s teachings the state religion of Korea. Born in Minonokuni (today known as the Gifu Prefecture), Sano was ordained at age thirteen at Seihō- ji. He was ambitious, idealistic, and often self- promoting. Sano became a National Evangelist and engaged in reforming the Nichirenshū. He sent petitions calling for the head priest to unify the diff erent head temples and, thus, to create a centralized, modern institution under the leadership of one head priest. Sano established Ishūkai (Association for the Order) to push this reform forward. His ambitious movement created many enemies, especially among abbots of major head temples and other conservatives in his sect, who considered his ideas as threats to their prerogatives. In 1891, the Nichiren administrators retaliated by demoting Sano to the rank of novice for six months.

Undeterred, Sano poured his energy into another project: building a statue of Nichiren at Higashi Park. He began traveling around the country to raise funds. But his aggressive, public street sermons, which included putting down the teachings of other sects, antagonized not only his Nichiren colleagues but also Buddhists from other sects. Nichiren priests accused Sano of being a charlatan who funneled donations toward himself, and non- Nichiren Buddhists who disliked his slander showered him with rocks. For this reason, Sano gave public talks under the heavy protection of police.

With two projects— reforming the Nichirenshū and erecting a statue— at a standstill because he had antagonized fellow priests, Sano

Figure 3.2: Sano Zenrei. Source: Kim Kwangsik, ed., Han’guk Pulgyo 100 nyo˘n.

turned his eyes to Korea, where he found the opportunity to bolster his failing infl uence in his sect. Sano seized this moment to play a leading role in shifting the religious landscape of Korea. Like others, he was determined to revitalize Korean Buddhism by bringing it under the guardianship of the Nichirenshū.

Sano arrived in Pusan with three other priests, Hori Nichion, Honge Nisshō (1868– 1932), and Shibuya Bun’ei, on March 3, 1895, and went on from there to Seoul. Sano was a man of action: twelve days after his arrival in Seoul, he opened an offi ce to offi cially undertake propagation in the capital and placed Shibuya in charge of it. Less than a month later, Sano reached out to Korean monks near Seoul to convert them to his own sect. On April 14, Sano and Shibuya visited the soldier monks of the Chunghgng temple who guarded the fortress of Pukhan Mountain, north of Seoul (see map on page xv). Sano succeeded in impressing the head of the soldier monks, Yi Sae’ik, by preaching the teachings of Nichiren. As a sign of conversion, Sano gave the monk a fi ve- layered brown robe (kesa) with gold embroidery and asked him and four other monks to sign the following testimony:

1. Th is robe will be permanently preserved as a trea sure at this temple; 2. All the monks will keep copies of the Lotus Sutra and chant “Namu myōhō rengekyō” [meaning “Paying Homage to the Lotus Sutra”; the title of the Lotus Sutra] to reach enlightenment.

With these terms agreed upon, Sano concluded that the most infl uential monks in Korea had converted to the Nichirenshū and that the temple had become a branch of his sect.

In Korea, Sano behaved like a powerful politician. He proclaimed himself as a proxy of the Nichirenshū’s head monk (kanchō), Kobayashi Nittō (1848– 1905). Th anks to this stature, Sano could easily gain access to Japan’s minister to Korea Okamoto Ryūnosuke (1852– 1912), who was also a Nichiren follower, and stay at his residence to implement his programs. From the perspective of Okamoto, the Nichirenshū could play a role in allaying anxiety from the Koreans about the Japa nese, as well as swaying the Korean king and offi cials toward a pro- Japanese stance through this shared religion. For those reasons, Okamoto took time to educate Sano on the current po liti cal and religious situation in Korea and advised him on whom to meet and the protocol for doing so.

Th rough Okamoto, Sano was able to approach the palace home minister, Yi Chaemyfn (1845– 1912), the older brother of King Kojong, and discuss how to create a closer relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhism. A meeting was fi nally arranged with King Kojong for March 26, 1895.

Sano’s pompous and fl ashy personality can also be glimpsed in the carefully choreographed scene of his pro cession into the palace. He had two Koreans carry special gifts from the head priest Kobayashi: a volume of the Lotus Sutra, a copy of Risshō ankokuron (Establishment of the legitimate teaching for the protection of the country), a two- foot- long golden incense burner, and a short biography of Nichiren. As an envoy of the Nichirenshū, Sano himself wore a specially prepared light- blue robe and a red, ceremonial kesa embroidered with gold. He entered on a palanquin carried by Koreans. He was also followed by his two fellow priests, who likewise wore colorful robes similar to but lesser than Sano’s.

Korean police, soldiers, and offi cials escorting the entourage further magnifi ed the visual eff ect. After an impressive public show, Sano presented the gifts for King Kojong to the court and begged that the king support the Nichirenshū’s propagation eff orts in Korea. Although he was unable to have an audience with the king directly, Sano was gratifi ed soon after upon receiving a message from the king through his minister. Th e king thanked Sano for coming a long way to visit and granted him three tiger furs and other gifts.

Encouraged by this event, Sano then turned his attention to resolve one of the most pressing issues for Korean Buddhism: rescinding the anti- Buddhist law. He was informed that he should fi rst persuade the Taewfn’gun, King Kojong’s father and the bitter enemy of Kojong’s wife, Queen Min (1851– 1895). By this time, Okamoto had formed an amicable relationship with the Taewfn’gun due to their mutual hatred of Queen Min. Th rough the mediation of Okamoto, the meeting between Sano and the Taewfn’gun was scheduled for a few days later at Unhyfn Palace.

Th e Taewfn’gun ruled the country as regent from 1864 to 1873, when his son was enthroned in 1864 as the twenty- eighth king at the age of twelve. During this ten- year period, the Taewfn’gun instituted a series of reforms to rectify maladministration and strengthen the court fi nancially and po liti cally. He was especially harsh on Westerners, whom he considered barbarians and a huge danger to the welfare of the country, and he was responsible for major persecutions of Catholics. After his forced retirement in 1873, he attempted to return to power. But in 1882, Qing China sent troops to Korea on the pretext of returning stability to Korea, and the Taewfn’gun was taken captive and held in Tienchin, China, for four years. Th e Taewfn’gun returned to Korea in 1885, and, for the next ten years, laid low and waited for an opportunity to remove Queen Min and her family from power. Th e victory of Japan against China in 1894 spurred the Min family to turn to Rus sia, and Japan began considering the Taewfn’gun as a viable, alternative leader of Korea.

Although the Taewfn’gun was aware of the ulterior motives of the Japanese, he could not ignore the dominance of Japan in Korea and was

cognizant of the growing frustration of the Japa nese with the Queen Min, a sentiment he shared. Th us, as mentioned, he developed friendships with Okamoto and with the Japa nese consul Miura Gorō (1847–
1929), another ardent Nichiren believer. Both led the plot to kill Queen Min. From the Taewfn’gun’s perspective, even somebody like Sano, a proxy to the head priest of a powerful Buddhist sect from Japan, was worth forming a connection to.

Sano knew that the year before the Taewfn’gun had infl uenced the blockage of the bill on decriminalizing the entry of monastics to the four gates of Seoul, one of the reforms that the pro- Japanese cabinet had proposed. He was concerned that the Taewfn’gun would again create obstacles to Sano’s hopes of ending this law. During their meeting, however, Sano’s concerns may have eased when the Taewfn’gun, knowing that Japa nese Buddhist priests were infl uential in politics, started the conversation by identifying himself as “a monk with hair” ( yubal kfsa).

(It was believed at the time that the Taewfn’gun had turned to Buddhism during his exile in China to calm his distraught mind.) Th e Taewfn’gun showed Sano his Buddhist rosary that he rolled in his hands as if in prayer; then the Taewfn’gun expressed puzzlement as to why Sano and Shibuya, two Buddhist priests, carried none. Th e Taewfn’gun’s next question excited Sano even more: “Does your sect reject Christianity?” With fi rmness and sincerity Sano replied that the Nichirenshū despised Christianity and thought it “fundamentally heretical.” In this, they found common ground and the meeting went amicably, meaning that the Taewfn’gun gave tacit approval for Sano’s plans.

With a major hindrance eliminated to abolishing the anti- Buddhist policy, Sano, along with a Shinshū missionary, petitioned King Kojong through Prime Minister Kim Hongjip. Sano wrote, I, privy to the Nichiren head priest of Great Japan, cautiously send a letter to the Home Minister of the Great Chosfn government Kim Hongjip. It has been less than a month since I came to Korea. I am unfamiliar with the customs of your country but am astonished to hear that Korean monks’ access to the gates of the capital city is prohibited by law. Fortunately, the virtuous [Korean] king above and the state offi cials below intend to reform all state aff airs and revitalize all those that disappeared in the past. Gracious and virtuous rule have reached even the trees and plants. Nevertheless, this ban has not yet been lifted. In this prosperous period, with the government continuing to implement this ban, why isn’t it [the ban] considered as big drawback? I have never heard of a case like this before. . . .

Korean monks are also human beings. Th e central tenets of Buddhism are to make the truth of the world benefi cial and save sentient beings. In a sense, they drew the law that prohibits them from coming into the gates of Seoul upon themselves [from excesses in the Koryf dynasty]. However, even though the problems [caused by the monks] disappeared, the law still exists. Even outcasts freely come into the gates to beg but monks do not have that freedom.

Th is does not accord with the virtuous rule of the King. . . . Even foreign priests can freely come into Seoul, establish temples, and preach the dharma.

Why is it that [Korean monks] cannot enjoy the [same] benefi ts? I humbly wish and pray that your Highness observe all the changes of the past and the present and grant the plan that monks can come into the walls and propagate. Th is petition is to increase the blessings of a prosperous age. However, I, as a foreigner, have dared to comment on the law of the ruler recklessly, have committed a sin, and have no place to hide. My recommendation, and thus your
[potential] recommendation, is only to serve the king. It is truly within the confi nes of the Buddha’s teachings. If your Highness takes pity on the distraught and accepts my words, it will not be only my happiness. Th e fear of having disgraced your dignity is limitless. I write to you with humility.

Following Kim’s request, the king agreed to put an end to the law, and the cabinet, supported by the Japa nese government, passed the bill.

Sano’s eff orts paid off and, in April 1895, brought about a historic change for Korean Buddhism: some Korean scholars mark this event as the starting point of modern Buddhism in Korea. Sano seized upon this victory, as scholar Takahashi Tōru said, as “the best opportunity to coax Korean monks into converting to his own sect.” As indicated earlier, the abolition of the anti- Buddhist law had already been part of the egalitarian Kabo reforms of 1894. Th e reforms had been initiated by members of the Deliberative Council (Kun’guk kimuch’ f), half of whom were from the secondary class, such as a yangban‘s son by a second wife (sfja)
or a technical specialist (chungin).

Scholars with a nationalist reading of history tend to diminish Sano’s contribution to the lifting of the law by criticizing colonial scholars, including Takahashi Tōru, of “plainly distorting historical facts.” Rather they attribute it to Pak Yfnghyo and Kim Hongjip, who had included abolishing the regulation as part of the 1894 Kabo reforms. It is true that Sano was not the fi rst to propose lifting the ban, and it may be the case that the lifting of the ban, as Korean scholar Yi Ihwa says, “would have happened even without Sano’s mediation” at some point. Sf Chaeyfng argues that there were many other collective factors that contributed to this lifting. Nevertheless, one should ask why the proposal was not passed in 1894, when it was proposed, and why the offi cial lifting occurred soon after Sano’s po liti cal meetings and petition in 1895.

One also should ask why Korean offi cials were willing to meet with Sano and receive his petition in the fi rst place. It was Sano’s po liti cal and religious capital that enabled him to persuade or pressure Korean offi cials.

Korean offi cials at that time considered Sano to be an infl uential, powerful Buddhist leader, backed by the Meiji government. Th is kind of clout was unavailable to Korean monks.

At any rate, Sano’s timely role in putting an end to this infamous law, considered by Buddhists as a symbol of several centuries of persecution, made him a hero, and Korean monks showered him with gratitude. “You, Venerable, removed our resentment of fi ve hundred years,” praised Korean monk Ch’oe Ch’wihf (Sfk Sangsun, 1865–?) of the Yfngju temple in Suwfn. Other monastics visited Sano to express their gratitude. From then on Sano was called by Korean monastics “Saya taein“
(Sano, the Great Man). Sano’s colleague Shibuya was elated and proceeded to revisit the Chunghgng temple to proudly announce what he and Sano had achieved. Shibuya triumphantly had the monks hang a sign at the temple that said, “Th e Headquarters of the Nichirenshū’s Church” (Nichirenshū kyōkai honbu), making it one of the fi rst Korean temples to become informally affi liated with a Japa nese Buddhist sect.

Further seizing on this historic moment, Sano wanted to make his accomplishment known publicly in a symbolic space, right in central Seoul.

Again supported by Japa nese consuls and Korean offi cials, Sano and other Nichiren missionaries held a mega- celebratory ceremony (much’a pfphoe) on May 5, 1895, praying for the long life of Korea and the Korean emperor. For this event, Sano distributed posters around the city and sent invitations to high offi cials, monastics, and people of infl uence in the city. Th e invitation letter, dated May 2, to Korean high offi cials said, I humbly state to you. . . . I hope all fortune abounds for you. Th e other day, I was not aware of the level of my sudden and agitated state of mind and [rudely]
sent petitions, thereby disgracing the dignity of all you highnesses of Chosfn.

Th e sin is already committed and I truly have no place to run away to. What should I do? Your highness did not abandon my small heart and faithfulness and your grace, which is as high as the sky, is also as big as the sea. Now, seven thousand monks [of Korea] have been revived from their corpses and it is as if new fl esh had been reattached to dry bones. How can I endure the weight of this tremendous joyfulness? Th us, we are planning to have a big event at the pugiryfng [northern post of the guard stations [see map on page xv] on April

10th [lunar calendar]. Tens of thousands of monks from each province [of the country] will attend this opening ceremony for the true teaching of the Lotus Sutra. And all the powers of the celestial deities will gather together, praying for the eternal life of the Great Korean King and for the great accomplishments of the renovation and restoration of Korea. I think that it’s a millionth of what I can do to repay to the grace of the king. Th e event is also for the tens of thousands of monks of your country who shed tears in gratitude for the order the great ruler [of Korea] keeps. To repay the gratitude of a great ruler is the duty of Buddhism. Th erefore, I hope that you consider this ceremony delightful. If you attend the event, bright lights will appear and shine on the event.

In attendance were 23 high offi cials of the court, including a number of ministers, such as Yi Wanyong, Yu Kilchun (1856– 1914), and Kim Yunsik
(1835– 1922), tens of thousands of Seoulites, and four hundred monks residing near Seoul, including the monks of the Chunghgng temple. Th e event was held within the four gates of Seoul, right outside Ch’angdfk Palace, in a special prayer hall built for the occasion. Two big fl ags on which the phrase “Long Live Great Korea” was written fl anked the platform. On the altar, the Buddha’s statue and the titles of the Korean king, queen, and the prince embroidered on a cloth were enshrined. A
copy of the Lotus Sutra was placed on a desk under the altar. Yi Ngnghwa who witnessed this symbolic event and the public presence of Korean monastics in central Seoul gave two opposite responses from onlookers. One said, “It is detestable to see monks in black robes and shaven heads. How dare they hold the ceremony here!” Th e other expressed his rejoice,
“Th e Chosfn monks had to stay outside the gates of Seoul. . . . Now the Buddha’s light will shine again.”
To understand the deeply symbolic importance of the return of Buddhism to central Seoul, it is helpful to know why Koreans of that period applied such signifi cance to the space. In the early years of the Chosfn dynasty, Chfng Tojfn (1342– 1398), one of the leading anti- Buddhist Neo- Confucians and author of the treatise Pulssi chappyfn (Various

arguments concerning Buddhism), designed the four gates of Seoul on the basis of the four virtues (sadfk) of Confucianism. Th e Confucian Academy (Sfnggyun’gwan) was also located inside the gates (see map on page xv). Th erefore, the area inside the four gates was constructed as, to borrow Paul Wheatley’s term, the “axis mundi” (cosmic pillar, or center of the world) and the “imagines mundi” (the paradigmatic model of cosmogony), which most Asian capital cities had in common. At the same time, Confucian offi cials envisioned an ideal Confucian society in which Buddhism, “the worst of heresies,” could not partake. Th ey had learned their lesson from the previous dynasty: there were three hundred wealthy and powerful temples in and around Kaesong, the capital of the Koryf dynasty. Th erefore, offi cials believed that the presence of Buddhist monastics and temples inside the gates of the capital would corrupt the orthodoxy of Neo- Confucianism and squander the state’s fi nances, and, thus, they sought to push Buddhists, literally, to the periphery. Th e Japanese Buddhist priest Sano, by breaking this orthodoxy, no matter how coincidentally and opportunistically, with a massive Buddhist festival right in the center of the city, provided one of the fi rst symbolic signs of the offi cial end of the Neo- Confucian dominance of Buddhism.

Unfortunately, prejudice against Buddhist monks could not be easily erased. Th e ban was reenacted just three years later, in 1898, when King

Kojong was disturbed by a monk peeking out from the crowd to see him in a pro cession. Later, a Korean monk named Muje Singwang from Kyfngsang Province, upon entering the eastern gate of Seoul, was chastised by a guard for not knowing about the reinstatement of the prohibition and was denied access to it. Muje submitted an angry petition to the Home Ministry lamenting, “I cannot understand the policies of the government at all.” Despite repeated petitions from Japa nese Buddhist missionaries in 1905 and later from the Ilchinhoe in 1907, the ban persisted. As the rule of Chosfn Korea was waning, however, this law became ineff ectual. Besides, monks circumvented it by disguising themselves as yangban, donning Confucian hats and wearing Western suits.

In addition, in 1895 an edict that mandated that all men cut off their topknots was fully enforced, thus making it hard to distinguish between monastics and non- monastics.

Nonetheless, at the time the law was fi rst overturned, Buddhists rejoiced and Sano declared victory. But, Sano’s ambition did not end there.

He further sought to have young Koreans and monastics go to Japan to receive an education at his sect’s school. With permission from Minister of Education Yi Wanyong, Sano took more than ten Korean students to study at Keio University. Moreover, the Nichirenshū followed up on Sano’s request to designate a temple in Japan that could host Korean students. Th e Ren’ei- ji in Shizuoka established by Nichiji, allegedly the fi rst missionary to Korea and China, was recommended as the legitimate place for this purpose. Besides, the abbot of the temple, Koizumi Nichiji (1841– 1923), had worked as a chaplain in Korea during the Sino- Japanese War and was delighted to accept having the temple play this important role. Sano also brought four monks to Japan: Kim Kgmu of the Mahayfn temple at Kgmgang Mountain, Sfk Sangsun (Ch’oe Ch’wihf, who sent a laudatory letter to Sano for abolishing the anti- Buddhist law)

of the Yongju temple in Suwfn, Pak Nan’gok, and Sfk Chaemyfng
(whom Katō had converted to the Nichiren’s teachings). At the Jōkyō- ji in Tokyo, all of them reordained to become Kobayashi’s disciples. According to Kim Yunsik, who was a cabinet member as foreign minister and who became a close associate of Sano’s, Sano “had a lot of money and was willing to spend his own money to recruit and educate Korean students for study in Japan.”
With four hundred monks recognizing his infl uential position, with the Chunghgng temple becoming a branch of the Nichirenshū, and with other Korean monks gathering around him, Sano believed he was on the verge of taking over Korean Buddhism. However, Sano’s ignorance of the inner dynamics of Korean Buddhism and a series of unfortunate events led to his downfall. First, the soldier monks whom he and Shibuya associated with were not infl uential in the world of Korean monastics, since they were not considered well trained or reputed. With the Kabo reforms of 1894 having abolished monks’ roles as soldiers, the military importance of this temple diminished rapidly. When the fi rst Temple Ordinance was promulgated, in 1902, this temple was excluded from becoming a major head temple. Worst of all, the temple burned down in 1904, and the eff ort of Korean monks to reconstruct it did not materialize.

Another blow to Sano’s eff ort to convert Korean monks was a damaging discovery. Th e golden incense burner he had presented to Kojong turned out to be made of fake gold. Korean government offi cials complained to the Japa nese consul, who soon reported it to the home

government. Th e matter snowballed. It became public to the point of appearing in a newspaper in Japan and (unpredictably) strained the diplomatic relationship between Korea and Japan. Home Minister Mutsu Munemitsu (1844– 1897) requested a full investigation into Sano’s reckless behavior, and the Japa nese Minister to Korea Inoue Kaoru (1836–
1915) confi rmed the veracity of the claim. Worse, those who had been critical of Sano mounted an attack on him, calling him an opportunist and a disgrace to the sect, and blamed head priest Kobayashi for Sano’s irresponsible behavior. Showered with criticism, Kobayashi had to defend himself and make an excuse that he had sent Sano not as his personal proxy but as a mere missionary, even though he had dispatched Sano to Korea as his representative with an eye to making Nichiren Buddhism the state religion of Korea. Sano, unable to defuse the anger of Korean court offi cials, Japa nese consuls, and Nichiren priests, and also without explaining why he dared to present a fake burner to the Korean ruler, was forced to retreat from the public scene in Korea. Shibuya later defended Sano by saying that other Buddhists sects (most likely the missionary from Higashi Honganji who had worked with Sano), as well as internal factions of the Nichirenshū, were jealous and had instigated the matter. Th e Nisshū shinpō was on Sano’s side as well. But another Nichiren journal Kyōyū (Dharma Friends), published by Sugita Nippu (1856– 1931), charged that Sano had not only disgraced the Korean king but had also deceived Nichiren believers about collecting donations on the pretext of building a Nichiren statue. Th e Nisshū shinpō countered, strongly denouncing as groundless the claims made by the Kyōyū.

Th e Nisshū shinpō’s defense notwithstanding, not only did Sano’s attempt to promote his image among Nichiren administrators result in the opposite eff ect, but his grand scheme to turn Korean Buddhism toward Nichirenism also disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Nevertheless, this incident made Sano famous in Japan since all the major newspapers reported the stir he created, and he rather enjoyed this sudden fame. Unperturbed and triumphant, he gave a speech at a meeting of the Nichirenshū in Tokyo on July 16, 1895, and wryly introduced himself by saying, “Th is is Sano Zenrei, who is known for the Golden Burner Incident. Th ere is a rumor that I am hiding somewhere in Seoul.

But isn’t it strange to you that I am here?” In front of hundreds of spectators, Sano went on to boast of his accomplishments in Korea. In the same meeting, Shibuya and Honge trumpeted that Sano had liberated Korean monks from centuries of shackles by holding talks with the king and even the king’s father, the Taewfn’gun. Shibuya and Honge announced that the most powerful monk of Korea had converted to the Nichirenshū and that he promised to build a Nichiren temple, Saizen- ji, in central Seoul. As part of this advertising campaign, Sano brought to the meeting two Korean monks, Pak Nan’gok and Kim Kgmu, who had converted to the Nichirenshū, to give a brief talk on Korean Buddhism. Th e converts were intended as visible symbols of Sano’s work and were meant to affi rm his prestige, as well as to raise funds.

Despite Sano’s indefatigable enthusiasm, he would have to wait to return to Korea. Not only had he made mistakes, but the assassination of Queen Min in late 1895 had been headed up by two Nichiren followers (Okamoto and Miura). Antipathy for the Japa nese swept Korea. Th ese matters overshadowed Sano’s accomplishments. After Japan’s annexation of Korea in 1910, his prominence was resurrected when he was given the position of administrative head of the Nichirenshū and superintendent of the Nichiren mission in Korea.

Sano’s ambitious plan to educate Koreans and Korean monks also failed. Th e eleven or so Korean students whom Sano brought and positioned in a Nichiren temple dwindled to seven. Four moved to other schools, which most likely indicates that they left the Nichirenshū. A
writer for the Nisshū shinpō lamented, “Th e education project that has just started has turned out this way. I despair!” No Korean monks

seemed to stay with the Nichirenshū, and, as soon as they fi nished their education at the Nichiren school, they returned Korea and abandoned their affi liations. Kim Kgmu soon disrobed; Sfk Sangsun discontinued his contact with the Nichirenshū; and Nan’gok died a few months after coming back to Korea. Worse, there was one Korean monk who turned to another sect during his study in Japan. According to the Nisshū shinpō,
Chaemyfng from the T’ongdo temple, whom Katō had successfully converted to the Nichirenshū in 1892, came to Japan in 1895 to study Nichiren doctrines at a school in Kyūshū. As mentioned earlier, Chaemyfng became a disciple of Asahi Nichimyō. But, for some reason, Chaemyfng decided to leave the Nichiren training school and move to the Ren’ei- ji, founded by Nichiji, in Shizuoka. However, he was not permitted to stay there. He faced the same rejection at other Nichiren head temples. Distraught, Chaemyfng wrote to Asahi: “I left the training center and paid visits to head temples in Kyoto. However, nobody allowed me to stay over for even a single night. In the end, I was fi nally able to ask for travel expenses from the Myōshin- ji temple [of the Rinzaishū].” Asahi sent an indignant letter to the Nisshū shinpō lamenting the fact that the Nichiren training center failed to retain Chaemyfng. Th e Nisshū shinpō printed Chaemyfng’s letter to the Rinzai head priest, which had already been published in the Nōnin Newspaper. In it, Chaemyfng explained why he abandoned the Nichirenshū:
In an eff ort to study the doctrines of the Nichirenshū, I stayed for several days
[at the Training Center of the Eighth District] during which I roughly examined them. However, I realized they don’t comply in the way that I originally thought they would. Th us, I abandoned that sect, desired to turn to your sect [the Myōshin- ji branch of the Rinzaishū] . . . and revitalize Korean Buddhism
[with what I would learn].

As if to trivialize Chaemyfng’s decision, the Nisshū shinpō reported that even the Myōshin- ji temple did not see much quality in him and gave him a special (or rather summary) ordination, sending him back to Korea with a small stipend. Nevertheless, the journal could not hide its hurt and spat out, “Who the hell is this monk Chaemyfng? . . . He says

he wants to revive Korean Buddhism through the Myōshin- ji. What kind of stupid words are these?! Based on what does he say that he abandoned our sect?” Th e writer goes on to say that Chaemyfng’s despicable behavior comes out of his desire to get travel expenses. Yet, the journal also refl ects on the sect’s inability to retain him: “However, who is really responsible for having him make this kind of excuse and commit this behavior?” Likewise, administrators in the Nichirenshū began to be aware that it was not meeting its larger goal of converting and retaining Korean monks. While the Nichirenshū fumbled in its mission in Korea, the Jōdoshū emerged as a key player in Korean Buddhism.

Jōdoshū

Although the Jōdoshū started later than the Higashi Honganji and the Nichirenshū in opening a branch temple in Korea, up to 1908, it was the most successful in recruiting Korean members and monastics, reaching cities and villages where there were no Japa nese residents. It dispatched two priests, Shiraishi Gyōkai and Iwai Chikai, in 1897, for an observation trip to Korea. Th ey also approached the court, succeeded in having an audience with the Korean emperor, and presented to him the Jōdosanbu kyō (Th ree scriptures of the Pure Land). Misumida Jimon established the fi rst branch temple in Pusan that same year, and soon after, other preaching churches (kyōkai) emerged throughout the country. In May 1898, the Jōdoshū designated Korea as a foreign mission parish district, thus making the Jōdoshū the fi rst among Japa nese Buddhist sects to designate Korea as an offi cial district for missions. In 1900, the Jōdoshū established a branch of the Jōdo Religious Offi ce (shūmuin) in Seoul.

Th e supervisor of the Jōdo mission in Korea, Hiroyasu Shinzui
(1848– 1922), met with the Korean emperor on May 23, 1901, and assured

him that, like the Higashi Honganji and the Nichiren missionaries, the intention of the Jōdoshū was to respect the Korean emperor and pacify the ruled. Hiroyasu believed that Korean Buddhism needed the Jōdoshū’s support in order to be revitalized. In the ceremony celebrating the opening of the Wfnhgng temple in 1902 (see map on page xv),
Hiroyasu took the opportunity to make a point directed at Korean offi – cials, who tended to be reactionary rather than sincere in changing their negative view of the Korean monks:
Th e revitalization of Buddhism was not in building a temple but in the development of modern knowledge. In order to further that, fi rst, one should elevate monks’ status and have them freely enter the four gates of Seoul . . . establish schools, and send them to the Jōdoshū school in Japan. . . . If one follows the suggestions that I provided, I guarantee that in several years Korean Buddhism will be transformed.

Since the anti- Buddhist law had been reenacted three years after Sano got it repealed, Hiroyasu petitioned the Korean emperor to lift it once and for all. Religion, Hiroyasu argued, is like a human’s mind, while politics is like a human’s body. Both are inseparable: if politics does not protect religion, politics cannot stabilize the people and country. He concludes that “extending your Highness’ grace to Korean monks would be the most urgent matter for the revival of Korean Buddhism.”
Th ese moves were not altruistic: Hiroyasu’s promotion of Korean Buddhism was linked to his sectarianism in that he believed that, without reviving Korean Buddhism, his own sectarian expansion would be hampered.

Th e Jōdoshū in Korea had some impressive and unique features. It had a large number of youth members. In 1902, a Jōdo church with 1,400 members in Myfngdong, located in central Seoul, began publishing

a monthly journal, the Tongyang kyobo, in Korean, the fi rst Buddhist journal in Korea. Th e Confucian scholar Pak Unsik, whom many contemporary scholars consider as a nationalist, wrote a congratulatory preface for the journal and praised Hiroyasu as “having scattered heavenly fl owers in the land of Korea.”
Attending the opening ceremony of the Myfngdong Jōdoshū Church on the Buddha’s birthday were many high Korean offi cials, including Home Minister Yi Chaesun and Supervisor of the Bureau of Temple Administration (Sasa Kwalli Sf) Kwfn Chongsfk (later Kwfn Chunghyfn, 1854– 1934). Th is was another mass Buddhist event held within the four gates of Seoul, again symbolically revoking Neo- Confucian orthodoxy in the eyes of onlookers.

All the Jōdo branch temples and preaching churches for Japa nese and Koreans enshrined the tablets of the Korean emperor, empress, and crown prince. Th e regulations of the Seoul church included fi ve special events for the Korean court family each year. Th e president and vice president of the Jōdo Society were both Koreans, and all local churches had their own Korean leaders, as well. Refl ecting this active propagation, the Confucian scholar Yu Sgnghgm (1876–?) lamented, albeit with some exaggeration, that in his day of 1906, the Jōdoshū and the Korean indigenous new religion Ch’fndokyo (Teachings of the Heavenly Way)
had taken over half the country. Th e Jōdoshū purported to have almost 100,000 members as of 1910. Although this number might have been greatly infl ated, a Korean newspaper, Hwangsfng sinmun, confi rmed the popularity of the Jōdoshū in the capital city: “Th ere are tens of thousands of the Jōdo members in Seoul.” According to a report written by Inoue to the Resident- General’s Offi ce (Tōkanfu) on July 17, 1906, there were 183 Korean Jōdo churches, approximately 32,500 Korean Jōdo members, and 5 schools, one of which was the Myfngjin School for Korean monks. Th e fi gure of approximately 30,000 members was attested to by policeman Kurosawa Kurosaku in a report investigating a Jōdo supervisor’s background. Even the lowest estimate is quite impressive given the fact that, as historian Peter Duus observes, “[i]n nearly every place the Japa nese settled, they constituted a community physically separated from the mass of the Korean population.”
Th e leaders of each church aggressively recruited members by off ering two membership statuses: general members, who paid ten wfn, and honorary members, who paid twenty wfn. All members received a badge with the Jōdoshū’s symbol on it, and honorary members were further guaranteed protection, even from incarceration by local offi cials. In a diary entry, Confucian scholar Hwanghyfn observes how the Jōdoshū became pop u lar:
Japa nese priests opened a Jōdo temple in Myfngdong. From the start, the Japanese respected the Buddha and all kings, and offi cials observed proprieties.

Even wandering priests came to Seoul and lectured on scriptures on platforms. Military offi cials and soldiers listened reverentially and did not dare to incur their disfavor. And our people, fearing the violent Japa nese, fl ocked into this temple to become members. . . . Th erefore, the Jōdo members became numerous around the country and churches were established everywhere. And cunning Koreans relied on the churches and made fortunes by selling the badges
[kyop’ae] as amulets that could provide self- protection.

Th is statement is evidence of the po liti cal power of the Jōdoshū, and Koreans, even Korean high offi cials, aware of this infl uence, were eager to ingratiate themselves with the sect.

However, the rapid increase of Jōdo members made some, including the Jōdo newspaper in Seoul, suspicious about the backgrounds of these Koreans. For example, some members of the Jōdo church in Seoul were accused of being former members of the Tonghak (Eastern Learning) or of the Tongnip hyfphoe (Association of In de pen dence), which were anti- Japanese groups and often critical of the pro- Japanese Korean government to the point where they were considered subversive. Th e Jōdoshū’s journal, Jōdo kyōhō, criticized the Jōdoshū society in Korea as
“an aggregate of factions, including even anti- Japanese members.” Th e Jōdo members were not homogenous in their motives: some acted to ensure their own po liti cal and economic interests, while others joined in simply to exploit the weak with their or gan i za tion al power. Th e Korean government established a special investigation team consisting of police offi cials and summoned in members for questioning. However, the investigation was useless because everybody vehemently denied any

connection with Eastern Learning or the association, and asserted that their sole reasons for coming to the church were out of faith and to listen to dharma talks.

Th e Jōdoshū’s proselytization techniques caused trouble as well. Jōdo members began using the enshrinement of the emperor’s tablets as an excuse to threaten and extort money from people, which resulted in local confl icts. For example, on March 27, 1906, the Hwangsfng sinmun reported an incident in which a gang of Korean Jōdo members broke into the Oktongje School in Anbyfn Prefecture. Th ere, the members tore down the school’s sign, enshrined the tablets of the emperor, and then demanded 400 wfn from the school for their act.

Th e Jōdoshū further collided with the Ilchinhoe (Advancement Society), the most powerful po liti cal or ga ni za tion in Korea in the years following 1905. In December 1905, in Sangyfn Prefecture in Kyfngsang Province, a series of violent confl icts between hundreds of Jōdoshū members and the Ilchinhoe injured several dozen. Lower local offi cials, who were Jōdoshū members, had imposed unauthorized taxes on each house hold. Ilchinhoe members, keen on eradicating illegal taxation as part of their anti- corruption program, united with villagers to protest.

Sides clashed, using bats, rocks, and even guns, and the situation became so serious that there was discussion about dispatching the army to secure the area. Interestingly, the Ilchinhoe members were from similar backgrounds as the Jōdo members they were fi ghting in that many were “dismissed offi cials as a result of the 1905 Japan- Korea [Protectorate] Treaty and former Tonghak members.” Th e Ilchinhoe and the Jōdoshū in Korea were both favorable to the Japa nese, which suggests that identity for Koreans in this period was so complex that it even led to the possibility of pro- Japanese fi ghting with pro- Japanese.

Th e Jōdoshū missionaries also pressed to recruit Korean monastics.

In the late 1890s, they invited a number of Korean monks, including Mongch’o, Chaeyfng, and Ch’wihyfn from the T’ongdo temple, to Japan to study. Missionaries established close relationships with abbots, especially with those from major temples in Korea, such as the Haein and T’ongdo temples, and persuaded monks to set up, as Western missionaries had done, modern schools for educating young monks. But missionaries also exploited temple properties. On March 20, 1906, for example, under the pretext of needing money to run schools, the Jōdoshū leaders demanded that the monks of the Unhae temple in northern Ky-fngsang Province pay fi ve silver ryang per monk, totaling 160 ryang for thirty- three resident monks. If the monks did not pay, the Jōdoshū members sent them “threatening notices.” (Th e Jōdoshū was not the only one to do this: the Nichirenshū also forced local temples to donate money for the construction of a Nichiren branch temple in Seoul.)
Petitions and complaints reached the government and those in charge of Jōdoshū missionary work. Th e Jōdoshū administration consequently had to issue warnings to those who misused the title of the Jōdoshū.

Inoue Genshin, the successor to Hiroyasu, had to excommunicate the president of the branch in Kgmsan by publishing the disgraced president’s name in the Hwangsfng sinmun.

Th e Jōdo kyōhō admits that the former superintendent of the Jōdoshū mission in Korea, Matsuoka Hakuo, did not pay careful attention to recruitment, through which some opportunists joined; caused violence against the Ilchinhoe; and created tensions with other religions— even with Christianity. (To avoid a similar problem, the Honganji- ha in Taiwan required that a potential native convert have fi ve sponsors.) Eventually, the Resident-

General’s Offi ce warned the Jōdoshū that it should see to it that their members only be engaged in religious activities, such as revering the Four Gratitudes (shion) and Ten Goods ( jūzen), and that members should not violate the rules of the Jōdoshū society.

Even prior to the clashes in 1906, Imperial Korea was concerned about the rapid growth of the Jōdoshū; but what worried the court the most was the Jōdoshū’s pressure on Korean temples. Th e Korean government took action by establishing the Sohgng temple in 1899 outside the eastern gate of Seoul. (It was renamed Wfnhgng Temple in 1902.)
Th is temple oversaw the implementation of policies for temple aff airs, which would in turn keep the Jōdoshū at bay, to some degree. In 1902, the government offi cials Yi Kgnt’aek (1865– 1919) and Kwfn Chongsfk, who were in charge of this complex, strangely enough invited the Jōdoshū priest Hiroyasu to give a dharma talk (as mentioned earlier) to an audience of eight hundred that included important monks. Th is goes to show that even though the temple was created in part to keep the Jōdoshū from overrunning Korean Buddhism, nonetheless government offi cials, like Yi and Kwfn, saw the importance of sustaining a good relationship with the powerful Jōdoshū. Th is temple soon housed the newly created Bureau of Temple Administration (Sasa Kwalli Sf). Th at same year, the Korean government promulgated the Temple Ordinance of 1902, bringing all temples under the government’s direct control, establishing the Wfnhgng temple as the head temple, and appointing sixteen mediumsized temples to represent the thirteen provinces. Hence, the Wfnhgng temple offi cially became the fi rst administrative center of modern Korean Buddhism. Th is government intervention, reor ga ni za tion, and institutionalization of Korean Buddhism were catalyzed, ironically enough, by the Jōdoshū’s aggressive moves to control Korean Buddhism.

Less than four years later, however, the protectorate treaty with Japan of 1905 made the offi ce nominal, and, consequently, the very existence of the Wfnhgng temple was in jeopardy. Th e Jōdoshū did not miss this opportunity. On February 15, 1906, Inoue, along with two Korean monks, Hong Wflch’o and Yi Podam (1859–?), who had become Jōdoshū members, established the Buddhist Study Society (Pulgyo yfn’guhoe).

Yi and Hong petitioned the Korean government for permission to use the temple for the Society.

We have been participating in the Jōdoshū. After several years, the Supervisor of the Jōdoshū [Inoue] gave special instructions to monks in Seoul and other provinces to establish the Buddhist [Study] Society [Pulgyo yfn’guhoe] and to establish schools, so that they could study the educational policy on new learning. For this reason, we petition and beg you to grant us special permission [to establish the school].

Th ey also wanted to establish the fi rst modern school for Korean Buddhism and call it the Myfngjin School. Th e school, based on the spirit of Jōdoshū teachings, would educate young monks drawn from the thirteen provinces to become propagators; classes would be held at the Wfnhgng temple. Two weeks later, the government gave them permission to rent the complex temporarily with the following provision:
“In your petition, you made it clear that you would study learning and develop education, thus endeavoring to cultivate compassion and good. Th erefore, if you create problems with the excuse of teaching, there will be an appropriate mea sure in accordance to what’s revealed.” In June, the head of the police department, Pak Sgngjo, following orders from the Korean emperor, dismissed the former head abbot of the Wfnhgng temple and resident monks. Th e temple property was entrusted to the Myfngjin School (see map on page xv), that is, to the Jōdoshū. Th us, the Jōdoshū could legitimately establish a central school for Korean Buddhism and then set up schools as its branches in head temples.

Less than two months later, Hong, Yi, and Inoue sent letters to all the head temples in which they advocated for monks’ education. Th ey asked each head temple to send two young students to the school. Th e letter said that believers of foreign religions “are harming and destroying Buddhism by taking away temple lands with the pretext of using them for running schools”; that the cause of these misfortunes was the monks’ lack of and indiff erence to modern knowledge; and that, therefore, as the Jōdoshū supervisor Inoue had said, “we should learn from and make use of a new education system.” Th us, the Jōdoshū had not only come to have preaching centers fanned out in major cities and prefectures, but it also owned a central Buddhist school of Korean Buddhism. Most importantly, the symbolic Wfnhgng temple, although it was offi cially disestablished, was now at its disposal as well. Th e Jōdoshū became the fi rst among Japa nese Buddhist sects that could exert infl uence over the institution of Korean Buddhism. In order to fi nance and expand the school, the Jōdoshū allocated shared responsibility to all the major temples, which further strained the temples’ already depleted fi nances. Monks resented the Jōdoshū for this, and became dissatisfi ed when the school failed to grow and improve. Th ey were further antagonized by the Jōdoshū’s increasing interference in temple matters and their frequent extortion.

In 1907, Inoue attempted to make the Wfnhgng temple an offi cial branch of the Jōdoshū. Th is blatant power grab quickly angered Korean monks and ended his infl uence with them. As a result, Hong and Yi had to resign from the Myfngjin School in July 1907, yielding their positions to Yi Hoegwang, from the Mangwfl temple in Kyfnggi Province at the time, who soon distanced himself from the Jōdoshū and who saw the Sōtōshū as a better choice for revitalizing Korean Buddhism. Hence, the Jōdoshū had to remove itself as a central player in Korean Buddhism. Many Koreans and Korean monks, who had joined the Jōdoshū for their own interests, left when they realized Jōdoshū would not be useful to them anymore. In the meantime, another powerful sect of Japa nese Buddhism, the Honganji- ha of the Jōdoshinshū, sought to expand its infl uence over Japa nese residents in Korea and also bring Korean Buddhism under its wings.

Nishi Honganji (Honganji- Ha)

Th e Honganji- ha commenced its missionary work to Korea in 1898, lagging behind the Ōtani- ha, which had started in 1877. In fact, it had largely focused on its missions to Hawaii and to North and South America, where a growing number of Japa nese workers had emigrated. However, the Honganji- ha, more than any other sect, took great pride in its identity and conception that it was the center of Buddhism. An editorial in the Kyōkai ichiran on “Petition on the Observation of Foreign Missions” said, “As everybody says, the focal point of world Buddhism lies in Japan and the center of Japa nese Buddhism is the Honganji. Th e Honganji is where the power of Buddhism is concentrated and where the energy of Buddhism is derived. How our sect initiates foreign missions will determine the success and failure of world Buddhism.”
Refl ecting this determination, in a matter of a de cade after its offi cial mission in Korea, the Honganji- ha’s infl uence among Korean monks overwhelmed that of the Ōtani- ha and other sects. Even Japa nese residents who, up to that point, had been affi liated mainly with the Ōtani- ha temples, soon shifted to Honganji temples and branch offi ces as soon as the latter commenced its mission on the Korean peninsula. In some ways it was natural, since many Japa nese who were in Korea came from the Kyūshū area where the Honganji- ha was strong.

Th e fi rst Honganji missionary, Nakayama Yuizen (?– 1921), arrived in Pusan in 1898, but the fi rst branch temple was established in the same city in 1906. As soon as Japan made Korea a protectorate in 1905 and the Resident General Offi ce was established, the Honganji also set up a corresponding administrative department of propagation in Korea in 1906.

At the same time, it appointed a high- ranking Honganji priest Ōtani Hōdō (also known as Sonpō) as the archbishop of the Honganji- ha’s Korean mission. Soon, Ōtani made an offi cial trip to Korea to preside in the opening ceremony of the department. His visit drew people’s attention in Seoul. Refl ecting Ōtani’s religious and po liti cal status, Resident General Itō as well as Japa nese and Korean high offi cials attended the ceremony. Even King Kojong sent an envoy to congratulate Ōtani. In

the eyes of Koreans, this was yet another public scene that attested to the level of infl uence and respect given to Japa nese Buddhist priests, and by comparison, that revealed that Korean monastics were treated with scorn and ridicule in Korean society.

Ōtani, like the other heads of sect’s missions, also envisioned subjugating Korean Buddhism to his branch. In October 1906, at the time when Inoue, Hong, and Yi Podam were preoccupied with setting up the Myfngjin School and securing the Wfnhgng temple, Ōtani, using his po liti cal power, pushed to take over the Wfnhgng temple, too, to use it as the head temple of Korean Buddhism under the guardianship of the Honganji- ha. From his perspective, the Wfnhgng temple, the function of which became useless after 1904, was an empty building waiting to be occupied by a Buddhist sect like his. Half cynical and half in awe, the people of Seoul said he was like a pope in Korea. Th e Taehan maeil sinbo reacted to Ōtani’s visit and his scheme lamenting, A thousand years ago, Korean culture used to be ahead of Japan’s; Buddhism was introduced to Japan from Korea and, at the time, Koreans were propagators while the Japa nese were recipients of teachings. However, our country persecuted Buddhism for fi ve centuries and [as a result] Buddhism is greatly weakened. Meanwhile, Japan worshiped the Buddha, each house hold enshrined Buddha statues, and everyone chanted the Buddha’s name, such that Buddhism has eventually become a national religion. A couple of years ago, Japa nese priests came to Korea and established Jōdoshū churches in Seoul. Th en, people, from government offi cials to the yangban, welcomed them. Th e Japa nese opened branch churches in all local areas; many around the country have come to follow the Jōdoshū teachings. Now that the Venerable Ōtani [Hōdō] came to Korea as the archbishop of [Honganji- ha’s] missionary work, his status is as a viscount and an infl uential fi gure. Itō [Hirobumi] is the po litical governor while Ōtani is the religious one.

Th e Confucian scholar Hwanghyfn also provided an account of Ōtani’s station. He wrote, Japa nese priest Hōdō established the Wfnhgng temple outside the Hgngin
[Eastern] Gate of Seoul, which could supervise the temples of the thirteen provinces, and had King [sic Prince] Yfngch’in (1897– 1970) become the head of the Great Head Temple. Also, in imitation of the government system, he expanded the infl uence of the teachings by creating departments and sections.

[Not only this but] Hōdō is the husband of the [Japa nese imperial] prince’s sister. [Moreover,] he brought with him as much as one million wfn (yen).

But the concerns of the editorial and Hwanghyfn that Hōdō might overtake Korean Buddhism did not become a reality. By October 1906, the Jōdoshū had fi rm control over the Myfngjin School, housed at the Wfnhgng temple, and the support of two infl uential Korean monks, Hong and Yi Podam, eff ectively blocking the Honganji- ha’s advance. Besides, the resident- general did not dare to give that privilege to the Honganji- ha at the risk of furthering the already deepening antagonism of Koreans against Japan.

Conclusion

Th e po liti cal uncertainty of the period from 1877 until 1912 created a unique setting for the relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhism. Up until early 1910, it was still unclear as to whether Japan would fully annex Korea, since the Japa nese government did not have a fi rm grip on Korea and was facing tremendous re sis tance (especially after 1905) both from Korea and international powers. Under these circumstances, Japa nese Buddhist sects were more circumspect in their approach to Korean monks and the Korean court.

In the pre- colonial period, Koreans perceived Japa nese high priests as exceptionally infl uential, po liti cally connected, socially respected, and wealthy, even though in reality Japa nese priests had limitations in all these respects. As a result, Japa nese priests had more prestige in Korea than in Japan, something that drew priests from Japan to Korea for their personal advancement. Th e Meiji government needed not only the material resources of Japa nese Buddhist sects but also the rich doctrinal, symbolic capital of Buddhism that could be used to mollify the anxiety of Koreans regarding Japan’s intentions. But Japa nese Buddhists had a vision that went beyond simply helping the government: each sect aspired to revitalize Korean Buddhism and take it over so that the sect would

become Korea’s state religion. Th is eff ort took place parallel to Japan’s drive to gradually dominate Korea po liti cally. In fact, the sectarian competition to take over Korean Buddhism predates the government’s territorial expansion.

Th erefore, these sects did not merely collaborate with state ideology, simply subordinating themselves to the Japa nese emperor as dictated by the state. Moreover, there was a plurality of Meiji imperial ideologies, as Carole Gluck has aptly pointed out: government and non- government offi cials during the Meiji period vied to produce their own version of ideology. Likewise, through sectarian doctrines, rituals, and sermons, each sect stressed its rendering of imperial orthodoxy. In doing so, writes Christopher Ives, each sect sought to ensure its traditional “quid pro quo relationship” with the Japa nese emperor (and the state) to guarantee its institutional privileges. Japa nese Buddhists applied the same principle of the inseparability of emperor and Buddhism to the Korean ruler to gain support of the Korean court and ensure their sectarian interests.

Kiba criticizes Mitō Ryō’s interpretation of Okumura’s use of the term
“secular truth” to mean the emperor of Japan. Kiba claims, on the basis of Ōtani Shōson’s meeting with the Korean emperor, that the Ōtani- ha stipulated the contents of the secular truth (or law) as meaning Korea’s emperor and the crown prince, thus “making the doctrine of the two truths fl exible.” Kiba points out that this strategic application must have been intended to prove the faithfulness of the Ōtani- ha to the Korean court, in a response to the assassination of Queen Min by the Japanese in 1895. Th e Higashi Honganji may also have been aware that Queen O˘ m (1854– 1911), Kojong’s second wife and a Buddhist, whom he married after the assassination of Queen Min, ordered all temples to install wooden tablets of the emperor, empress, and prince. With this merging of the royal with the Buddhist at a symbolic level, there was pre ce dent for the Ōtani- ha to apply the two truths doctrine to the

Korean court, which Fujii Takeshi considers a “kind of Pan- Asianism that had the aim of imperializing subjects.”
However, the Ōtani- ha was not alone in this strategic accommodation. Th e Jōdoshū and Nichirenshū also gained the court’s favor in order to establish their temples around Korea, although they also used enshrining the imperial tablets to extort money and other resources. In par tic u lar, Inoue of the Jōdoshū petitioned to the Korean government to rent the Wfnhgng temple by promising to enshrine tablets of the Korean emperor. Th e Jōdo society made use of the same strategy to recruit members. Ōtani Hōdō of the Honganji- ha followed suit. Th is
“fl exible” or “practical” approach was crucial to Japa nese Buddhist missionaries in removing suspicion among Koreans and garnering the support of the Korean government for their sectarian advances. Th e Korean court endorsed the idea of two truths, and, thus, the Korean emperor and empress granted monetary gifts and administrative con ve niences to these sects, among which the Ōtani- ha was the biggest benefi ciary.

Th e uncertainty and disarray of the period gave Japa nese Buddhist missionaries much latitude in making their own decisions, acting in many cases without close contact with their home sect. Th e freedom is partly attributable to the diffi culty of communications. With this lack of oversight, some Buddhist missionaries were out more for themselves than for their sect, as was seen in the case of Sano and other Jōdoshū missionaries. Th ey used the name of their sect to give their work legitimacy, whether or not headquarters was entirely aware of what was going on. Nonetheless, their fi rst- hand reports back home set the foundation for mission policies that the home sects worked out at headquarters. Th e missionaries’ freedom in decision making sometimes caused disorder and problems. As a result, some missionaries added to the instability of Korean society, as seen in instances with the Jōdoshū and the Nichirenshū, necessitating that the Korean and Japa nese authorities take mea sures to regulate religion.

Th ese problems notwithstanding, the Japa nese Buddhists’ challenges to the Korean government’s marginalization of Korean Buddhism, their relationship with the Korean emperor and high offi cials, unimaginable to Korean monks, and their symbolic, public ceremonies inside the gates of Seoul contributed to lifting the anti- Buddhist position of the waning Chosfn dynasty in the face of Japan’s growing dominance in Korea. In addition, their presence prompted Korean monks to problematize their own identity and the way they were treated by the Korean government.

Chapter 4 Regulations, Alliances, And Backlash

Th e needs of Japa nese missionaries and Korean monks coincided in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, enabling, as Chfng Kwangho observes, Japa nese missionaries to successfully win Korean monks over to their side. Japan’s emergence as a major power in Korea in 1905 intensifi ed the strategic alliances between these two Buddhisms.

In this interplay, Korean monks were not simply passive targets, allowing themselves to be imposed upon by their Japa nese counterparts.

When their own government failed to protect temples from confi scations by local offi cials, a good number of monks willingly sought association with Japa nese Buddhist missionaries and sects. By registering temples as branches of Japa nese Buddhists sects, Korean monks intended to associate themselves with the powerful institutions of Japa nese Buddhism that could shield them from exploitation, increase their chances for survival, and help them revive their tradition. Moreover, the boldness of the Japa nese Buddhist sects in approaching the Korean court and government offi cials to advocate on behalf of Korean Buddhism prompted Korean monks to become more active themselves. On the Japanese side, Buddhist priests began establishing schools for Korean monks to teach modern knowledge. Th e sects’ eagerness to counter Christianity and broaden their infl uence necessitated the promotion of Korean Buddhism. Th ey were, as historian James Grayson noted, “responsible for

the institutional revival of [Korean] Buddhism.” Th is symbiotic relationship gradually transformed both Buddhisms. While Japa nese Buddhist sects were becoming Pan- Asian and even transnational institutions, incorporating Korean, Taiwanese, and Chinese monks into the sphere of their sectarian infl uence, Korean monks were also prompted to understand their own tradition in international terms and to formulate their distinctiveness in relation to other Buddhisms.

Th is chapter explores the responses of Korean monks, the Korean government, and the Resident- General’s Offi ce to the growing infl uence of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries on Korean Buddhism. Furthermore, it delves into the reasons that Korean monks allied themselves with Japa nese missionaries.

Th E Korean Imperial Government Steps In: Th E 1902 Temple Ordinance

Th e Korea Review, put out by the Methodist Publishing House run by Western missionaries, reports an impressive event in 1902 right outside of the eastern gate of Seoul:
Th e [Korean] government is building an enormous Buddhist monastery about a mile [far less in reality] outside the East Gate. It is intended that this will be the head monastery in Korea and will hold the same relation to Buddhism in Korea that the Vatican does to Roman Catholicism throughout the world. It will contain between three and four hundred kan of buildings and the plan is the same as that of the great Ch’un- ch’uk Monastery in Tibet. Th e ceremonies connected with the commencement of this work took place on the fourth instant [the fourth of January]. Monks from all over the country, up to 800 or more, congregated at this spot together with Japa nese. . . . Th e crowd of spectators was so great that native witnesses described it as a “sea of men.”
Although the size of the temple, Wfnhgngsa, was greatly exaggerated, Westerners took note of this unique event and understood it as a sign

that Korean Buddhism would soon be revitalized. However, the government was still reluctant to see a temple inside the four gates of Seoul and instead placed it just outside the eastern gate. Th e location was meant to confi rm the restatement of the prohibition of the anti- Buddhist policy in 1898.

Th e temple’s construction was not entirely initiated by the government itself. Rather, it was established in response to the increasing infl uence of the Jōdoshū. Th e Jōdo newspaper in Seoul, Tongyang kyobo, observed that the Jōdoshū’s successful conversion of a large number of Koreans “frustrated the Korean court.” Th e article continues, “In order to keep the Jōdoshū at bay, it established Wfnhgng Temple and other head temples.” Ironically, the Jōdoshū had stimulated the Korean government to abandon its long- standing indiff erence toward Buddhist monks and to bring all the temples and monks into the government system. Th e imperial government acted on the Jōdoshū’s incursions in three ways. First, the Wfnhgng temple was designated to oversee all other temples in Korean Buddhism. As mentioned before, sixteen branch temples were designated, in emulation of the head- and- branch system in Japan. At Wfnhgng Temple, two positions, the Tosfmni and Naesan sfmni, were created: the Tosfmni supervised all temples, while the Naesan sfmni was in charge of temples near Seoul. However, the Wfnhgng temple did not have much administrative power to enforce its decisions. Second, the government set up the Bureau of Temple Administration
(Sasa Kwalli Sf) in 1902, designating two army offi cials, Kwfn Chongsfk and Yi Kgnt’aek to oversee its administration. Th e Bureau of Temple Administration, placed under the branch of the Department of the Royal House hold (Kungnaebu), took charge of “all the matters related to forests, fortresses, and temples.” Th e government installed fi fty

soldier- monks, selected on the basis of their physical strength, and fi ve policemen. Th is is evidence that Buddhist temples and monks were still considered by the Korean government as military functionaries. Even at a time when social classes were dismantling, the state did not have much intention to give up using Korean monks for military purposes. And third, the government promulgated the 1902 Temple Ordinance to further circumscribe the Jōdoshū and control Korean Buddhism itself.

With the Wfnhgng temple, the Bureau of Temple Administration, and the 1902 Temple Ordinance, the centralization of Korean temples was complete.

A full analysis is needed of the 1902 Temple Ordinance since it was the fi rst and last offi cial response of the Korean government to the growing infl uence of Japa nese Buddhism on Korean Buddhism before Korea’s full annexation to Japan in 1910. Most importantly, the 1902 Ordinance prefi gured the later Temple Ordinance promulgated by the colonial government in 1911. Supervisor Kwfn explains the reason the government issued the Temple Ordinance:
Th ere had been no rules that could regulate all the groups of monks. Although for the last fi ve hundred years of our dynasty the wise rule of the king has been so gracious that Confucian teachings prevailed, old Buddhism could not benefi t. Th us, there appeared hundreds of problems with monks and their ignorance. How can one expect them to purify themselves! Occasionally, they sold out their mountains and disposed of temple land. As a result, temples became dilapidated and hermitages fell into ruin. How deplorable! . . . Although there are shaved monks [who are worthless], how can they be excluded as ones to be taught and enlightened? . . . Th erefore, the Bureau will be established so that all the temples can be supervised and all dilapidated temples can be investigated . . . recovered and preserved.

Kwfn’s pronouncement provides evidence that the government’s view of monks were so low that it did not believe Korean Buddhism could restore itself. As Kim Kyfngjip points out, Kwfn’s remarks even reveal some anti- Buddhist rhetoric. Kwfn does not wish to give much latitude to the Buddhist sangha since, in Kwfn’s judgement, Korean monks were incapable of self- improvement and needed guidance from the government.

Th e ordinance consists of 36 charters. It is worthwhile to look at these charters in detail. First, Korean Buddhism is characterized as encompassing all diff erent teachings (charter 1), refl ecting the way Korean monks perceived their own tradition as a synthesis of practices (although Sfn was considered foremost). Th e ordinance then sets forth an administrative structure. Sixteen mid- level head temples (chungbonsan) would be in charge of their own branch temples (charter 6). Th e abbot of Wfnhgng Temple, the great head temple (taebonsan), would be responsible for all the mid- level head and branch temples (charters 6 and 8).

Although abbots of the mid- level head temples and the great head temple would be selected by election and could nominate some of their own staff , it was the Bureau of Temple Administration that would issue all the letters of appointment (charter 19). Th e administrative structure is illustrated in Table 4.1.

As this line of command shows, the Bureau of Temple Administration was under the Department of the Royal House hold, but the bureau oversaw both Wfnhgng Temple and all other mid- level head temples.

All monks’ certifi cates would be issued from the bureau, as well (charters 23– 24). Charters 23 and 24 revive the monks’ exam that had discontinued during the Yfnsan’gun’s rule (r. 1494– 1506) and offi cially recognizes monks’ ordination. Th e conferral of monks’ certifi cates by the bureau meant that, although monks could put themselves up for election as abbots and elections were internal, appointment and punitive powers ultimately rested with the bureau (charters 20 and 28). Charter 22 stipulates that any monk violating the law will be strictly punished and disrobed.

Th e Temple Ordinance also addresses one of the social problems that had prompted Korean monks to seek out Japa nese sects. It includes protection for Buddhist monks and temple properties by prohibiting local offi cials and yangban from exploiting them: “All forced labor and ser vice

Table: 4.1: Administrative structure of the Sasa Kwalli Sf Department of the Royal House hold (Kungnaebu) ⇓ Th e Bureau (Sasa Kwalli Sf) ⇓ ⇓ Wfnhgng Temple ⇒ 1) Pong’gnsa in Kyfnggi- to 2) Pongsfnsa in Kyfnggi- to 3) Yfngjisa in Kyfnggi- to 4) Magoksa in Ch’ungch’fngnam- to 5) Taebfpchusa in Ch’ungch’fngbuk- to 6) Sfnggwangsa in Chfllanam- to 7) Kgmsansa in Chfllabuk- to 8) Haeinsa in Kyfngsangbuk- to 9) T’ongdosa in Kyfngsangnam- to 10) Tonghwasa in Kyfngsang- to 11) Wflchfngsa in Kangwfn-to 12) Yujfmsa in Kangwfn-to 13) Sfgwangsa in Hamgyfngnam- to 14) Kwijusa in Hamgyfngbuk- to 15) Pohyfnsa in P’yfng’an- to 16) Singwangsa in Hwanghae- to source: Kwfn Chongsfk, “Kungnae sach’al hyfnhaeng saech’ik yfngi,”

source: Kwfn Chongsfk, “Kungnae sach’al hyfnhaeng saech’ik yfngi,”

414– 16.

(including military ser vice) of monks shall be prohibited. Further, monks and nuns should not comply with the extortion of alcohol and food by any government offi cials and vulgar groups, nor with any other exactions” (charter 30). Although there had been court orders issued for individual cases prohibiting exploitation of specifi c temples and monks, this was the fi rst offi cial proclamation from the government to end such practices. Interestingly, charter 30 implies that, while monks’ military ser vice had been already abolished by the Kabo reforms in 1894, it must not have been implemented. It is also strange that, while this clause in the charter stipulated ending monks’ military ser vice, Kwfn, himself the head of the guard of the palace, still positioned fi fty strong, militarily trained monks at Wfnhgng Temple.

16. Ibid., 428– 29.

Th e ordinance also valued the preservation of temple properties by designating them as public, not private (charter 27). Abbots would therefore be required to furnish a list of all the temple’s possessions— ranging from statues, forests, and artifacts to texts and scriptures— to the midlevel head temples, the Wfnhgng temple, and the bureau (charter 25).

Th is stipulation is, in part, an eff ort to ensure that Japa nese Buddhist sects and others would not appropriate any temple assets for themselves.

Monks were also given bureaucratic rankings, similar to the priest system in Japan. Th e Temple Ordinance granted the head priest a governmental ranking of ch’igimgwan (Jp. chokuninkan), the equivalent of a ministerial position (charter 8). Although it was nominal, this conferral marked a major shift away from the reluctance of the Neo- Confucian leadership to allow any po liti cal privileges to Buddhist monastics. However, this new accommodation was not fully implemented and, in light of Kwfn’s remarks, it is unlikely that the Korean government meant to allow the standing of the head of the Korean sangha to be equivalent to that of the Japa nese head priest.

Fundamentally, the imperial government did not perceive Korean Buddhism as useful to strengthening the nation. If anything, the law is clear that monks should not be involved in po liti cal matters. At the same time, charter 2 dictates that the two truths, similar to the philosophy of the Shinshū sect in Japan, should be strictly abided by. Th e state wanted Korean Buddhism’s support and loyalty, but it did not want its interference. While the freedom of propagation was guaranteed, charter 3 prohibited discussing politics in propagation work.

Th e 1902 Temple Ordinance allowed the sangha to build new temples, although they needed to receive approval from the bureau (charter 32). (In contrast, the 1911 Temple Ordinance, drawn up by the colonial government, prohibited the building of new temples in accordance with the constitution of the Chosfn dynasty.)
Despite the clarity of the ordinance, the state did not succeed in bringing Korean Buddhism under its administration. Th e government of Imperial Korea was becoming unstable, unable to control even its own offi cials. Th e worsening corruption of government offi cials made the eff ective execution of the 1902 Temple Ordinance impossible. For instance, Kwfn exploited his power by selling monks’ certifi cates for

money. Even worse, in 1904, during the Russo- Japanese War, the Wfnhgng temple was used as a military post for Japa nese soldiers, disabling the normal functioning of the Bureau and the temple. Eventually the function of the Bureau was transferred to the Home Ministry, and the building previously used for the bureau was sold to a newspaper company (most likely to the Hwangsfng sinmun). Even after Japan made Korea a protectorate in 1905, the prohibition of Korean monks from entering the four gates of Seoul was reenacted, rendering the rights given to monks in the 1902 Temple Ordinance meaningless. (Th e Ilchinhoe and Japa nese Buddhists loudly objected, and the prohibition was eventually lifted.) Given the imperial Korean government’s in eff ec tiveness in protecting Korean Buddhism and following through on its own laws, it is not surprising, as Kwfn observed, that Korean monks turned to Japa nese Buddhist sects for help.

Increased Contact And Deepening Relationships

Over the following fi ve years, Korean abbots and temples increasingly sought the assistance of the Japa nese sects to protect themselves and to advance their situation. One incident that took place in the spring of 1905 provides a glimpse of how interests on various sides aligned and spurred events on the ground. A Methodist missionary who wrote about it in an article titled “A Serious Disturbance” describes the action. Although his version of the story is from the Christian perspective, it nevertheless illustrates how affi liations between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists were formed, in part due to their shared animosity toward Christians.

A group of Koreans reportedly damaged a part of a Buddha statue, most likely at the Mirgksa temple in Unjin, Ch’ungch’fng Province.

Korean monks demanded indemnity fi rst from a twelve- year- old boy who was caught in the action. But, since the boy turned out to be a penniless orphan, the monks went after another Korean, whom the writer identifi es as “one of the bystanders” at the site of the incident. Nevertheless, they failed to get any compensation from the bystander for the damage. In the meantime, a Japa nese Buddhist priest came to live in the Korean monastery (or in the town) and came to “obtain some infl uence over the monks of this monastery.” Korean monks and the Japa nese priest
“formed a company” and stormed the man’s house to confi scate “deeds to rice fi elds and other valuables.”
It is not clear whether they got the goods, but nonetheless the whole incident did not end there. At that time, a Methodist missionary, William B. McGill, along with some Korean Christian believers, had built a church and purchased property for a school. Korean monks and the Japa nese priest found out that the accused man was a Christian and a member of that church. When the monks and priest tracked him down, the members of the church protected the man. Th e monks and the priest ganged up with nearby Ilchinhoe members to challenge the church’s occupancy of the property. According to the report, angry Japa nese residents in the town attempted to harm McGill, who hurriedly telegraphed another missionary, Rev. Robert Sharp, requesting his assistance. Th e Japa nese residents and Ilchinhoe members, “armed with guns, knives, and clubs,” stormed the church complex, destroyed the church, and injured the members. Th e violence ended when the Japa nese police arrived. McGill complained that no Japa nese involved in the violence had been arrested.

Even though all the details are unavailable and it is unknown whether the monks and the priest were involved in the later violence, one can at least ascertain that a Japa nese priest colluded with Korean monks and that together they heightened animosity among locals toward Christians in the town. Th e case reveals how, on the one hand, Korean monks willingly collaborated with the Japa nese Buddhist missionary to protect and pursue their interests. On the other hand, the Japa nese Buddhist missionary stood to gain two things by becoming involved: ingratiating himself with Korean monks and curbing the work of the Christians.

Although this case seemed to have involved just one Japa nese Buddhist priest, in other cases Japa nese priests from diff erent sects competed with one another to gain the confi dence of Korean monks, which in

turn created tensions among Japa nese Buddhist missionaries. For example, Inoue Genshin of the Jōdoshū and Ōtani Hōdō of the Honganji- ha vied to restore the function of the Wfnhgng temple so that their own sect could take control over all the Korean temples of the thirteen provinces. However, the Jōdoshū had formed an early relationship with the Wfnhgng temple, since 1902, when Hiroyasu attended the opening ceremony of the temple. Th e Jōdoshū also began occupying the temple several months before Ōtani arrived in Korea by establishing the Myfngjin School.

Th e Wfnhgng temple was not the only temple that Japa nese Buddhist sects attempted to take over. Th e Rinzai missionary Furukawa Taikō (1871– 1988) approached the Pohyfn temple of P’yfngan Province, and there was a desperate reason why the temple was happy about his visit. Monks at Pohyfn Temple, whose land had been taken over by local farmers for rice cultivation, had petitioned the local authorities to return the land to the temple. But local offi cials responded by imposing taxes on both the farmers and the temple. Th e abbot Pak Pobong, frustrated, turned this time to the Japa nese police, but they were unresponsive. He had heard that Ōtani priests were po liti cally infl uential and thus turned to an Ōtani missionary, Inami Senshō, who promised to resolve the confl ict in return for making Pohyfn Temple into a branch of the Ōtani- ha.

However, the contract with Inami did not change the situation much, and Pobong did not hear anything further from Inami for some time. When the Korean local and central authorities learned that Pobong had sought protection through the Japa nese, they declared the deal illegal and incarcerated Pobong! It was only when Furukawa used his po liti cal connections that Pobong could be released and the case came to a favorable close for the temple. Consequently, Furukawa took charge of the temple and became its director, making the Pohyfn temple the fi rst Rinzaishū branch in Korea. Th is incident reveals how Japa nese Buddhist missionaries found opportunities to take over temples that were already allied with another sect.

At the same time this competition increased Koreans’ antagonism toward Japa nese Buddhist missionaries. For example, Confucian scholar Hwanghyfn bashes Furukawa in his diary:
Th e Japa nese monk Furukawa Taikō stole the power of the abbacy of the Pohyfn temple. Th is temple is located in Myohyang Mountain. It is an ancient site, where Tan’gun [the mythical found er of ancient Korea] once resided. Th e temple owns seven hundred chambers. Th e square size mea sured by the court is fi fteen li in length and ten li in width [meaning it was large]. And taxes for a slash- and- burn fi eld used to be nine hundred wfn. However, at the time, Furukawa curtailed the tax to three hundred wfn [which was good for the temple but bad for the revenues of the Korean government] by threatening the Home Ministry.

Despite Hwanghyfn’s criticism of Furukawa, Furukawa successfully defended the temple and its property and emerged as one of the most trusted Japa nese Buddhist missionaries by Korean monks. (Acknowledging his contribution, in October 1910, more than a month after Japan’s annexation of Korea, the Wfnjong made him the offi cial abbot of the Pohyfn temple. Th is is the fi rst- known case in which a Japa nese Buddhist missionary became the abbot of a major head temple in Korea.)
Nonetheless, these relationships did not look good to Koreans on the outside. A few years later, in 1909, in the fi rst issue of the Taehan hgnghakhoebo published by Korean students in Tokyo, an editorial charged the monks of the Pohyfn temple as “the traitors of monastics and the rioters of the nation.” It also suggested that in order to prevent this kind of transfer of temple properties to foreign priests, Korean monks should establish a central institution to protect their own temples and fulfi ll their duty as members of the Korean nation. However, what these

students overlooked was that the nation the students imagined was not one that included Korean monastics as legitimate members. To somebody like Pobong and to the resident monks of the temple, the priority was to protect the temple properties and their interests. In addition, establishing a central institution for Korean Buddhism would require a degree of po liti cal infl uence that Korean monks lacked.

1906 Regulations On Religion

Because of the weak implementation of the 1902 Temple Ordinance, in which the government was supposedly responsible for protecting and supporting Korean Buddhism, Korean monks increasingly turned to Japa nese Buddhists in the years that followed. Sensing the opportunity to win monks over amid the social upheavals, sectarian competition grew, which in turn created suspicion and antagonism among Koreans generally. When the Meiji regime took Korea as a protectorate in 1905, the new caretaker government recognized that it would need to step in. In one way, the issuance of the 1906 Regulations by the resident- general was a natural result of Japan’s making Korea a protectorate.

Th e Chūgai nippō provided another reason as to why the residentgeneral promulgated the regulations. When monks not only of the Pohyfn temple but also of the Haein and Pfmf temples sought protection through the Ōtani- ha in June and July 1906, Inami did not know how to fi nalize the legality of the contracts. (Th is explains why Inami could not assist Pobong, because the contract lacked legal standing.) Inami consulted Kodama Hideo (1876– 1947) of the Resident- General’s Offi ce. Th e regulations were said to have come about as a result of the request from Inami because the request alerted the Resident- General’s Offi ce that all was not well with Korean Buddhism. Korean and Japanese Buddhists at the time came to believe that Inami’s query was the real reason for the regulations.

Yet, this was not the case. Obviously, charter 4 (discussed below) regarding transactions between Korean and Japa nese temples was in response to Inami’s issue. However, the promulgation of the Regulations on the Propagation of Religion (Shūkyō no senpu ni kansuru kisoku) as a whole was a rather natural development when the resident- general assumed much of administrative power from the Korean government.

The Case Of Taiwan

Th ere had already been a similar regulation of Buddhism enacted by the colonial government in Taiwan, in 1899, four years after Japan annexed Taiwan. In the beginning, the colonial government of Taiwan did not allow Japa nese Buddhist sects to turn shrines and temples in the country into the sects’ branches, but due to the “frequent requests by the Taiwan natives,” the government issued nine detailed terms in “Th e Regulations on the Establishment, Amalgamation, and Disestablishment of Shrines, Temples, and Teaching Halls” (Shaji kyōmusho konryū haigō kisoku). Th e terms of the regulations in Taiwan were similar to some of the terms in the regulations in Korea. Th e practice of Taiwanese temples’ registering as branches of Japa nese Buddhist sects predated the Regulations of 1899. Registration rapidly escalated just after annexation. While in 1896, four temples applied to the Ōtani- ha to become branches, by October 1898, the number had reached forty. Even Japa nese Buddhist missionaries residing in Peking rushed to Taiwan to form contracts with Taiwanese temples.

Th e Sōtōshū was the most successful at the beginning. By 1897, it had turned almost 70 temples into branches, and by 1900, more than 170 temples had sought registration with the Sōtōshū. Th e Sōtōshū missionary at the forefront of this subordination movement was Wakō Kokuei
(1865– 1943). Like Inami had in Korea, when Wakō realized that the

members of the Taiwanese temples registered to the Sōtōshū protested what their abbots had done, he proposed that the colonial government devise a legal basis for legitimating the practice. But the Sōtōshū had competition. For example, a Taiwanese temple Ryūsen- ji, where the Sōtōshū missionary Yoshikawa Yūgo had been in charge since 1897, started receiving solicitations from the Honganji- ha. Eventually it became a branch of the Honganji- ha in 1905 and Yoshikawa had to leave. Seven temples and shrines registered as branches with the Honganji- ha in 1897. However, according to historian Sai Kindō, later the colonial government was unwilling to approve these contracts between the Japa nese sects and Taiwanese temples. Th e Japa nese Buddhist sects shifted their strategies and instead formed alliance relations (teikei kankei) to create liaisons with temples and shrines (renraku jibyō). By 1937, the Rinzaishū was the most successful, having formed alliances with 130 temples, while the Sōtōshū’s alliances had decreased to 50.

The Regulation’S Charters

Th e diff erence between Taiwan’s regulations and Korea’s is that, at the time of the 1906 promulgation, Taiwan had been already annexed while Korea’s status was still uncertain. Yet, as in Taiwan, in Korea the regulations were in great part meant to minimize the disturbances caused by Buddhist missionaries, to direct their activities, and to give the residentgeneral some control over the situation. Th e 1906 Regulations were designed primarily to supervise all Buddhist (and also non- Buddhist) missionaries from Japan to make sure that they were legitimate delegates of their sects and that their activities were in line with the authorities’ policies. Some troubling events were giving the government a headache. For instance, in 1905, Jōdoshū

Mission Supervisor Matsuoka Hakuo (1851– 1923) and a Nichiren priest Katō Seiryō were involved in infl uencing business deals by using special favors. Th ey had lobbied the Department of the Royal House hold to grant a monopoly to par tic u lar businesses that oversaw laborers at two ports, one in Inch’fn and the other on the Han River. Other businesses shut out by the deal had complained to the Japa nese government. In response to complaints from the Japa nese minister to Korea Hayashi Gonsuke (1860– 1939), Foreign Minister Yi Hayfng (1858– 1929) replied that two Japa nese priests were causing the problems. Yi nullifi ed the contracts and requested that the Japa nese consul prevent the two priests from getting further involved in business deals. Similarly, a growing number of the private contracts between Japa nese Buddhist missionaries and Korean monks also concerned the resident- general since they instigated resentment among Korean offi cials and even non- Buddhists, such as with the aforementioned students in Tokyo and Confucian scholar Hwanghyfn. Th e 1906 Korea Review attests to the government’s concerns about the situation in its report: “Th ere are many Japa nese in the provinces trying to renew an interest in Buddhism. Th e residency
[resident- general] is said to have sent to these agents of Japa nese Buddhism, instructed them to keep strictly within the bounds of their ostensible plan, and to not meddle with matters outside of it.”
On November 17, 1906, in order to “correct these ill eff ects” and
“enforce the original purpose of propagation,” the resident- general, “in consultation with representatives of the two Honganji branches and the Jōdoshū,” issued regulations composed of six clauses and two addenda.

Clause One: If any sect or religion from imperial Japan seeks to engage in propagation in Korea, the head priest or somebody in a corresponding position should designate a supervisor and submit to the governor- general for approval his resume, explanation of the propagation method, and how missionaries will be overseen.

Clause Two: Except for Clause One, if anyone as a subject of imperial Japan wants to engage in missionary work, one should fi ll out the name of religion and the method for propagation and submit with his resume via the governor in his jurisdiction to the governor- general for approval.

Clause Th ree: If a supervisor or missionary is planning to establish a temple, shrine, meeting hall, preaching center, or any kind of lecture hall for religious ser vice, he should receive approval from the governor in each jurisdiction by fi lling out the following: 1) the name of the place for ser vice and location, 2) the name of the religion, and 3) how it will be managed and maintained.

Clause Four: When a missionary of a religion or a sect, or propagators specifi ed in Clause Two, or anybody as an imperial subject wants to comply with requests for administration from a Korean temple, they should attach necessary documents and receive approval from the governor- general via the governor of their province.

Clause Five: If one wants to change any already approved items, one must receive approval all over again.

Clause Six: A supervisor, or a propagator specifi ed in Clause Two, should submit his name and qualifi cations to the governor in his jurisdiction, and in case the propagator moves to another jurisdiction, he should do the same, again.

Additional Clauses

Clause Seven: Th ese regulations will go into eff ect as of December 1, 1906. Clause Eight: Once these go into eff ect, a current missionary or those who fall under Clause Th ree or Clause Four should submit all the details specifi ed in all Clauses for approval within three months of the enforcement date.

Some of these regulations were based on versions promulgated in Japan.

Earlier that year, on May 7, the home minister instructed all religious denominations in Japan to do the following: “When each religious tradition and sect dispatches their missionaries to China and Korea and has them engage in propagation, they should stipulate rules concerning the eligibility of the propagators, the methods of propagation, and the supervision to be used, in the regulations of that religion or sect, and put them into practice after receiving approval from the Minister of Home Aff airs.”

In the pro cess of designing the Regulations on Propagation of Religion, the resident- general promised to execute the regulations in close communication with the Home Ministry. In response, the home minister sent instructions to the head monks of all sects in Japan and asked them to comply with the new regulations devised by the ResidentGeneral’s Offi ce in Korea. Th erefore, this regulation is the fi rst Japanese policy on religious propagation in Korea that bypassed supervision from the home government and gave control to the Japa nese administrators working in Korea directly. Th e 1906 Regulations stayed in eff ect until the colonial government revised them in 1915. Up until late 1906, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries had worked in de pen dent of government oversight and even to some degree of their homeland sects.

Impact On Japa Nese Buddhist Sects

With the regulations going fully into eff ect as of December 1906, Japanese Buddhist missionaries in Korea had to be in line with the policies of the Resident- General’s Offi ce. Some confusion among the parties involved— the Resident- General’s Offi ce, home administration of sects, missionaries, Korean authorities, and Korean monks— ensued. For example, the mayor of Seoul inquired as to whether a Japa nese missionary could temporarily place a Korean as a proxy administrator of a Japa nese preaching center or a branch temple during his absence. Th e ResidentGeneral’s Offi ce responded that clauses 3 and 6 dictated that the supervisor should be Japa nese and that they should reside in the complex.

In response to the regulations, the Japa nese Buddhist sects, such as the Shingonshū and the Ōtani- ha, sent the resident- general documents, including temple codes ( jihō) and denominational regulations (shūhō), to meet the requirements set by the regulations. Th e head priest Ōtani of the Honganji- ha sent a statement regarding the supervision of the

Honganji- ha missionaries. He requested that the Resident- General’s Offi ce not give approval to any in de pen dent missionaries from the Honganji- ha without a letter from the Superintendent’s Offi ce of the Honganji- ha in Korea. He explained that this would help exclude those without proper qualifi cations.

Th e regulations caused the Buddhist sects in the homeland to become more responsible for their priests in Korea. Each Japa nese Buddhist sect established its own Superintendent Offi ce in Seoul and located it in proximity to the Resident- General’s Offi ce to make the communication between offi ces more swift and effi cient. Th us, most of the administrative centers of the sects that had been in Pusan and other cities now moved to Seoul. For example, on October 10, 1906, as discussed in the previous chapter, the Honganji- ha turned what had been a temporary branch offi ce in Yongsan, Seoul, into its main offi ce. On November 17, an inauguration ceremony for the offi ce was held. Resident- General Itō, in a congratulatory speech, stressed twice that for eff ective assimilation, Buddhist propagators “should do their best to eliminate resentment among Koreans [against Japan].”
Th e Ōtani- ha also set about complying with the Regulations. In November, it fi nally completed the largest branch temple among Japa nese Buddhist sects, the Great Korea Amida Honganji (Taikan Amida Honganji), spending six thousand yen, and designated this temple as the overseer of all Ōtani- ha missionary work in Korea. At the opening ceremony were not only Itō but also two prominent Buddhist intellectuals, Inoue Enryō and Nanjō Bunyū. Th e Sōtōshū complied by designating Takeda Hanshi as the fi rst supervisor of the Sōtōshū missionaries in Korea and the abbot of Senryū- ji in Yongsan, Seoul, as its branch temple (see map, page xv). It also issued its own internal “Regulations on the Mission in Korea” (“Kankoku kaikyō kisoku”). From this time onward, the liaison offi ces of Japa nese Buddhist sects stayed in close

contact with the Resident- General’s Offi ce, and Seoul became the administrative center of Japa nese Buddhism in Korea.

Despite their compliance, the Japa nese Buddhist missionaries did not necessarily feel the regulations were good news because they perceived that these were primarily designed to control Buddhism more than to control Christianity. Th e Jōdo kyōhō complained that “the Regulations are too generous to Christians but too strict on Buddhists. . . . [Th e resident- general] should provide more favors to Buddhists. In this sense it is deplorable that the administrator [Itō] does not do his best to support Buddhists. Nonetheless, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries were pleased, at least, with clause 4, which provided legal standing for the deals made between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists. Once they secured

a commitment from a Korean temple, they now did not need to worry about their affi liate being taken away by other sects or punished by the Korean government.

Alliances: Korean Monks Seek Protection

Korean temples had made private contracts with Japa nese Buddhist sects prior to the 1906 Regulations, as seen in the cases of the Chungh-gng and Pohyfn temples. Once the regulations were issued, both Korean monks and Japa nese Buddhist priests busied themselves with making the affi liations offi cial. Korean monastics also preferred offi cial contracts to private ones since the former could guarantee the intervention of state authorities in case of emergency. Th ey had reasons to formally ally with Japa nese Buddhists: to avoid exploitation from local offi cials, the righ teous armies (anti- Japanese soldiers), and Japa nese troops.

After 1905, when Korea was placed under Japan as a protectorate, Korean monks suff ered from the battles between the Japa nese army and anti- Japanese righ teous soldiers. Th e anti- Japanese army confronted Japa nese troops deep in the mountains, where most temples were located. Since temples were the best places for righ teous soldiers to hide while on the run, Japa nese soldiers attacked temples under the pretext of eradicating mobs. Scholar Takahashi Tōru ascribed the destruction of temples to guerrilla soldiers and commoners who had seized temple properties and assets for themselves. He compared the devastation of temples to the wreckage of the Japa nese invasion in 1592. Korean scholar Pak Kyfnghun counters Takahashi’s remarks and maintains that it was Japa nese soldiers who burned down temples. Pak’s assertion is right in that, according to Korean sources, the Japa nese army burned not a small number of temples to the ground to crack down on the righteous army soldiers who hid themselves there and got food from them.

According to the Maeil sinbo, the following temples were burned down by the Japa nese army in their battles against the righ teous soldiers in 1907: Yongju Temple in Suwfn on September 15, Shinngk Temple in Yfju on October 5, Ch’fnggok Temple in Chinju on October 22, and An’guk Monastery in Hgnghae on November 3. According to a Japa nese source, in 1908, Han Sfrho, a prominent Korean monk and president of a modern school for monastics established at Shingye Monastery in Kangwfn Province, was misunderstood to be a righ teous soldier and was killed by
“the punitive force” (Japa nese soldiers). Especially from September 1907 onward, there were hundreds of skirmishes between the Japa nese troops and the righ teous soldiers.

In 1908, the monks of the Tonghak temple in Ch’ungch’fng Province petitioned the resident- general. First, they reminded him that the temple was “a royal memorial temple [wfndang] built by King T’aejo (r. 918–
943) of the Koryf dynasty.” (Th is reminder was a common strategy during the Chosfn period, to emphasize the signifi cance of the temple whenever seeking favors from authorities.) Th ey continued, Despite a thousand- year history . . . the temple is in ruinous condition and the number of resident monks are merely ten, with thirty rooms. Since the temple does not have any arable land, we have managed to survive by begging in villages. . . . Since last year, the troops of your country, while passing by, broke into the temple and demanded eggs, chicken, and food. Our scared young monks ran away.

Temples were not safe from the righ teous soldiers, either. Th e Christian missionary Charles Allen Clark (1863– 1935) testifi ed that “the righ teous armies are the real oppressors of the poor. . . . Ninety percent of them are in it for Number One and not for the sake of the country . . . going from village to village, demanding great sums of money. . . . Wherever they were refused, they murdered or tortured without limit.” On

March 20, 1908, thirty anti- Japanese soldiers ambushed Chfngt’o Temple, bound the abbot, and requested fi ve hundred sfk of rice. Th is kind of exploitation was ubiquitous in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Such predation worsened in the early 1900s as the Korean government lost control over local offi cials. Th e Temple Ordinance of 1902 was useless in protecting temples.

Yangban likewise exploited temples’ food and facilities. According to the rec ords of Pfpchu Temple, in 1838 and 1889, yangban frequently spent half- day excursions (pan’gahan) consuming temple food and confi scating temple properties. On May 23, 1907, the abbot of Yfnjuam Temple sought protection by registering it as a branch of the Jōdoshinshū because he feared an attack by the yangban from town. Th e temple was sacked nevertheless. On the same day, a score of yangban invaded Tonghak Temple, bound the resident monks, and stole the temple’s gold and money.

Further detrimental to temples, especially in this pre- colonial period, was the nationwide movement among local yangban to establish modern schools. Th ey turned their eyes to temple properties, which they considered free for their use. As for three examples among many, the mayor of Umsfng in Ch’ungnam Province, Pak Chunsfl, confi scated the properties of the Sfngju temple. Christians also had their sights set on the temple properties. Yi Tonghwi (1873– 1935), a Christian nationalist of the Poch’ang School in Kanghwa Prefecture, petitioned the Home Ministry to allow him to use the land belonging to the Chfksfk temple to establish a school, and the monks were ordered to vacate the premises soon after. In another instance, according to scholar Kwfn Sangno, some

Christians in P’yfngan Province occupied a building of the Namsan temple and turned it into a Christian church.

In fact, this self- strengthening movement through education and the resulting confi scation of temple properties had already started in midnineteenth century Qing China. In the late 1890s, the Confucian scholars Kang Yuwei (1858– 1927) and Liang Qichao (1873– 1929), along with the governor of Hunan Zhang Zhidong (1837– 1909), launched the Hundred- Days Reform Movement to strengthen Qing by promoting education. Th ey wanted temple properties to be used for establishing schools, building sericulture factories, and even for use as military posts. Zhang’s 1898 Exhortation to Learning proposes that, “Seven out of ten temples in every county should be converted to schools, and the other three should be preserved for the accommodation of dislodged [Buddhist] clergy and Taoist priests.”
Later, the Boxer Rebellion of 1899 intensifi ed this self- strengthening movement, and the impoverished central government eventually allowed reformers to use temple properties as schools. Monks were powerless to challenge this trend. Local authorities disregarded their pleas and even criticized monks for not supporting education and for being attached to material possessions. Under this situation, monks ironically turned to Catholics of foreign countries for protection, who enjoyed extraterritorial rights, by renovating temple halls into Catholic worship halls. However, soon monks discovered that Japa nese Buddhists enjoyed the same extraterritorial rights. Mizuno Baigyō (originally a Sōtō priest but later a convert to the Ōtani- ha) and Itō Kendō, two Japa nese missionaries, proposed to distraught Chinese monks that they seek protection through the Ōtani. By the end of 1904, forty- fi ve monasteries in Chekiang Province, eastern China, had become branches of the Ōtani- ha, and this phenomenon spread to other provinces as well.

Likewise, Korean monks searched for ways to safeguard themselves and temple properties. In many cases, they petitioned the Home Ministry to intervene. However, the response of the government was not satisfactory. Monks saw greater support from the Japa nese Buddhist sects, since they shared the same religious identity. More importantly, Korean monastics had seen the po liti cal infl uence of Japa nese Buddhists in Korea. With the legal provisions of the 1906 Regulations, Korean monks willingly handed over temple administration to their Japa nese counterparts (kanri seigan), making their temples branches of Japa nese Buddhist sects. Th ey inscribed and hung at the temple entrance the name of the Japa nese Buddhist sect, followed by their temple title, as a deterrent to would- be threats, even including Japa nese police. Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, capitalizing on the desperation of Korean temples, rushed to make contracts with Korean temples, promising protection in return for affi liation. Korean central and local offi cials were infuriated to see that Korean monks had handed over temple properties to the Japa nese.

Th is resentment caused offi cials to infl ict even more penalties on Korean monks, as seen in the case of the abbot Pak Pobong of the Pohyfn temple.

After issuing the 1906 Regulations, the Resident- General’s Offi ce consulted with the Korean court in March 1907 about clause 4, concerning temple contracts between Japa nese and Korean Buddhists. Th e Korean

government did not endorse it because the government interpreted the clause as a reassignment of Korean temples to Japa nese own ership. For this reason, Furukawa had a hard time explaining to Korean offi cials how the contract he made with Pobong was legitimate. Although the Resident- General’s Offi ce was mostly in control of Korea, by way of seating Japa nese advisors in the Korean government, the Korean government still dealt with many state and local aff airs. In many cases, Japanese and Korean Buddhists had to deal with two government authorities, which caused further confusion and antagonism. However, it was obvious that power gradually inclined toward Japan, and it did not take long for Korean monks to fi nd a way to work with this new power.

Still, at fi rst some Korean monks did not know how to capitalize on clause 4. Not realizing that they needed to access government channels fi rst, some sent their petition directly to the Sōtōshū’s headquarters in Japan, for example. On June 5, 1908, the Sōtōshū forwarded a message to the Resident- General’s Offi ce explaining that some Korean monks, “not knowing how to approach the Resident- General’s Offi ce . . . [and] just because the Sōtōshū shares the same Zen tradition with them,” had contacted the Sōtōshū directly and asked for protection from corrupt yangban, the righ teous army, and Japa nese police.

Despite some initial confusion, many temples successfully registered as branches of Japa nese Buddhist sects. A document from the ResidentGeneral’s Offi ce attests to one of the primary reasons Korean monks sought protection through Japa nese Buddhist sects (see Table 4.2).

Th e Yfngmyfng temple soon became a branch of the Rinzaishū, and the three temples that applied to the Ōtani branch were granted approval from the resident- general. Th is report shows that of the sects,

Table 4.2: Four Korean temples approved for protection Yfngmyfngsa Sasinam Yfnjuam	Simwfnsa
Location	P’yfngyang, P’yfngan Province	Ch’frwfn County,	Kwach’fn,	Pakch’fn
Kangwfn P.	Kyfnggi P.	County, P’yfngan P.
Abbot	Hyang’un	Kwfn Kwangnyfn	Yu Kyeyfp	Kim Ch’fngbong
Property	Temple and	Buildings, rice	Buildings,
its land	fi elds, forests	rice fi elds, forests	Buildings, rice fi elds, forests, and two branch temples
Reason	Education and propagation for Koreans	To avoid exploitation from yangban and to promote Buddhism	Same	Same
Duration	Indefi nite	Indefi nite	Indefi nite	Indefi nite
Authority	Usage of the temple and the land	In charge of temple properties, but both signatures required in case of the transfer of the properties	Same	Same
Compensation	None	None	None	None
Assignee	Asahi Fudake, the Rinzaishū	Inami Senshō, the	Same	Same
Ōtani- ha
source: “Jiin kanri ichiranhyō,” in Chfngbu kirok pojonso, Shūkyō ni kansuru zakken

source: “Jiin kanri ichiranhyō,” in Chfngbu kirok pojonso, Shūkyō ni kansuru zakken

tsuzuri (1907).

the Ōtani branch was most sought after, refl ecting the po liti cal and institutional infl uence it exerted in Korea at the time. Other major temples, such as Haein, Pfmf, and T’ongdo, also sought to avoid exploitation from local offi cials and made private contracts, although to do so was against the 1906 Regulations, with the Ōtani- ha. In addition, the T’ongyfng temple in Kyfngnam Province sought protection from the Honganji- ha. Even Hong Wflch’o, originally a member of the Jōdoshū,

handed over the Hwagye temple to become a branch of the Ōtani- ha in April 1907 (although it soon after turned to the Honganji- ha).

In 1907, the abbot Pak Kgngnyun of the Pfphgngsa temple in P’yfngan Province petitioned the Resident- General’s Offi ce seeking protection through the Ōtani- ha. Pak reported that, in 1893, a group of wealthy yangban, a magistrate of the county, local offi cials, and those self- identifi ed as Christian missionaries collaborated to harass monks, burn temple artifacts (including Buddha statues), and expropriate lands from the temple to use as graveyards. He stated that his reason for seeking out the Ōtani- ha was simply to get the temple’s property back and to live peacefully, without fear of being attacked again. Th e fact that Pak had to wait more than ten years to report the incident indicates that his appeals to the Korean local and central governments had not been heeded. Another Ōtani- ha missionary also succeeded in registering the head temple Sf-ngbulsa in Hwanghae Province, which itself had branch temples, in 1909.

Sfngbulsa sought “the protection of their lives and properties.” Th us, soon after the issuance of the 1906 Regulations, the Ōtani- ha alone had twenty- two temples acting as branches, at least fi ve of which had received offi cial governmental approval from the Resident- General’s Offi ce. Japanese sects took over so many temples that there was a rumor that all the abbots of Korean temples would be replaced with Japa nese priests.

Although a late- comer, the Honganji- ha soon outstripped the Ōtani- ha in attracting Korean temples. It was well known among Korean monks and others that, as of 1906, the Ōtani- ha was the most powerful Buddhist sect, sometimes “more powerful than the Resident- General’s Offi ce.” Th e Ōtani- ha had the largest branch temple, built on the side of Namsan Mountain, looking over the palace and in proximity to the Resident- General’s Offi ce, with the fi nancial and administrative support of the Korean emperor. However, the Honganji- ha rose to prominence as soon as it took a serious interest in its mission to Korea, in part due to the extraordinary eff orts of the missionary Iwao Jōen (?– 1948).

According to Korean scholar Yi Ngnghwa, Iwao was most instrumental in bringing Korean temples into the sphere of infl uence of the Honganji- ha. Born in Ōita Prefecture in northern Kyūshū and as a priest of the Seikyō- ji, he had come to Korea in 1900 (or 1901) and spent signifi cant time living at Korean temples. In par tic u lar, he learned the Korean language at the T’ongdo temple and received the 250 pigu precepts from Master Pak Manha, whom Japa nese believed was the leading fi gure in the practice of keeping precepts in Korea (analogous to Shaku Unshō). Th is makes Iwao the fi rst- known Japa nese priest in modern times who took a Korean monk as his master, though this was more at a symbolic level than otherwise. After his ordination, Iwao, dressed in Korean robes, traveled around the country with his master, Manha, and befriended Korean monks. He then opened a school for Korean monks at the T’ongdo temple and later a Japa nese language school for Koreans in Pusan. Th e Honganji recognized his accomplishments and put him in charge of a Korean Buddhist church, which was later named the Great Saint Church (Daisei Kyōkai), in 1908. Th anks to his language ability and cultural sensitivity, the number of Korean converts allegedly grew to almost twenty thousand by 1910 (this estimate is

greatly exaggerated: according to the Honganji’s journal, the number of Japa nese and Korean members combined was six thousand). As Yi Ngnghwa indicated, many Korean monks, including Hong Wflch’o of the Hwagye temple in Seoul, who was the found er of Myfngjin School and a Jōdo member, trusted Iwao. As mentioned earlier, Hong had originally sought protection through the Ōtani- ha but soon turned to the Honganji- ha, in part due to Iwao’s charisma. Th us, historian Aoyagi Nanmei (1877– 1932) wrote in his book Chōsen shūkyō shi (History of Korean Buddhism), published in 1911, that through Iwao’s infl uence a hundred temples had registered as the Honganji branches. Th e Chūgai nippō confi rms that there were 168 registered temples as of 1911.

However, this does not mean that the Resident- General’s Offi ce accepted all the applications. Although there is no record on the exact number of temples approved, most applications received no response from the offi ce, and thus many deals were made on personal levels, similar to the “affi liated relations” (teikei kankei) in Taiwan, without necessarily receiving approval from the Resident- General’s Offi ce. Th is indicates that despite the regulations, the offi ce continued to have limited control over the Japa nese Buddhist sects in Korea and that sects found ways to circumvent the legal framework.

Backlash: Th E Establishment Of The Wfnjong

As mentioned earlier, in March 1907, Inoue, supervisor of the Jōdoshū mission in Korea, had petitioned the home minister of the Korean government to allow the Jōdoshū to “use the property of the Wfnhgng temple and the Myfngjin School for fi fteen years for free.” Based on clause 4 of the 1906 Regulations, he wanted to consolidate the Jōdoshū’s prerogative over the Wfnhgng temple and Myfngjin School. Deeply suspicious, the minister requested the Japa nese police to investigate Inoue’s background in accordance with the 1906 Regulations, and the police sent back a letter to the minister. Th e police confi rmed that In-

oue’s offi cial position and teaching career was certifi ed by the central religious offi ce of the Jōdoshū in Japan as of February 1906.

Despite the legitimacy of Inoue’s move, there was backlash from Korean monks because the system of funding for the Myfngjin School, in which each temple was compelled to send money, was a fi nancial strain on the temples. Th ree months after Inoue petitioned to overtake the complex, on June 25, 1907, fi fty representative Korean monks convened a meeting of the sangha to discuss creating a modern institution to govern Korean Buddhism. Yi Podam was initially the presiding monk, but since he was a Jōdoshū member he took responsibility for Inoue’s misstep and resigned. He entrusted all his authority to Yi Hoegwang, who was rather inimical to the Jōdoshū. In the following months, Inoue, sensing a shift in the allegiance of Korean monks, lobbied to overthrow Yi Hoegwang, return Yi Podam to the chair, and push his scheme through; his eff orts were to no avail.

After this initial meeting, however, Korea was thrown into chaos and the formation of the new institution was stalled for a year. Over the summer, King Kojong was abdicated as a result of the Hague incident, and the Chfngmi Seven Treaty between Korea and Japan was signed in July 1907, which moved Korea one step closer to full colonization by Japan. Anti- Japanese sentiment swept the country, making Inoue’s scheme even less achievable. Refl ecting the social and po liti cal mood, the Korean government and Resident- General’s Offi ce did not approve his petition. Itō himself was aware that the Wfnhgng temple was a highly contested space for both Korean monks and all Japa nese Buddhist sects. Handing this space over to the Jōdoshū would deeply divide Korean Buddhists and upset the other sects, thereby further compromising Itō’s already shaky governance.

On March 6, 1908, Yi Hoegwang convened fi fty- two monks at Wfnhgng Temple, abolished the Jōdoshū Study Society, and established a new institution. Th e establishment of the Wfnjong marked, as most Korean scholars agree, the fi rst modern institution of Korean Buddhism, arriving after centuries of “mountain Buddhism,” which had no institutional identity. On March 17, Yi posted a paid- for announcement in newspapers titled “Th e Prospect for Setting Up a Religious Offi ce for Korean Buddhism.” Yi pointed out that all other nations— Japan, Europe, En gland, and America— had successfully enlightened their people and promoted pride in their nations. In contrast, in Korea, religion (Buddhism) had been disregarded and the profane has prevailed. He wrote, For this reason, all the monks from the temples around the country gathered at the Myfngjin School to devise the objectives of education and the regulations on propagating cooperatively. We resolved to establish a responsible offi ce and

Head Monk (chongjfng):	Yi Hoegwang
Head of Educational Aff airs:	Kim Poryun, Kim Chisun
Head of General Aff airs:	Kim Sfgong, Kang Taeryfn
Head of Personnel Aff airs:	Yi Hoemyfng, Kim Kuha
Head of Audit and Inspection:	Pak Pobong, Na Ch’fngho
Head of Financial Aff airs:	Sf Hagam, Kim Yfnggok
Instructor for the Myfngjin School:	Pak Hanyfng

source: Yi Ngnghwa, Chosfn Pulgyo t’ongsa, 937.

to name it the Religious Offi ce of Buddhism [Pulgyo Chongmuguk]. It will be the central religious offi ce of all the temples and the source of empowerment for all the monks. . . . Th e most urgent matter at this point is to break irrational old customs and participate in civilization and enlightenment through the most eff ective methods . . . with an unselfi sh philosophy and sacrifi cial spirit, serving our nation for eternity and guiding people to the hill of medicine . . .

Why is it not our responsibility to return gratitude to the Buddha and the [Korean] emperor?

Soon after this meeting, Yi and the Wfnjong nominated the staff for the central religious offi ce.

Interestingly, Yi and the others did not use the titles specifi ed in the 1902 Temple Ordinance in staffi ng the Wfnjong. Instead, they emulated the titles that modern Buddhist institutions in Japan had been using, including using the same name for the central religious offi ce (chongmuwfn and shūmuin in Japa nese).

Sharing Knowledge

In fact, Korean monks absorbed an understanding of institutional Buddhism through their work with the Japa nese on the whole. Th e Myf-ngjin School owed its existence in large part to the initiatives of the Jōdoshū and other missionaries. Japa nese missionaries also opened modern schools using the resources of Korean temples in order to help prevent the further loss of temple land to offi cials, yangban and Christians who sought to poach temple properties for themselves. Okumura, Sano, Hiroyasu, Inoue, and Iwao all stressed education for Korean monastics and established schools at major temples. In other words, without the administrative and institutional support of these Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, the state authorities would have taken Korean monks’ petitions for projects less seriously.

By 1910, twenty schools were in operation. Most of these schools had Japa nese Buddhist missionaries acting as both teachers and protectors. Th e way the system worked is that all the local schools instructed young monks at an elementary level, and upon graduation, two students recommended by the abbot of the temple competed for admission to the Myfngjin School, which provided the next level of education. Th erefore, the establishment of the Myfngjin School played a major role in the development of a larger school system from 1906 on.

Th e close connection between the Jōdoshū and the Myfngjin School did not mean that Korean monks had no latitude in the administration of the school. Inoue did not dictate the curriculum of the school, although he required students take a course in Japa nese language. Other than three Jōdoshū texts, among many other Sfn, Ch’fnt’ae (Jp. Tendai), and Hwafm (Jp. Kegon) scriptures, there was no sign that the school was established on the teachings of the Jōdoshū (the school offered a comprehensive range of subjects, from the history of religion to arithmetic, calculus, agriculture, law, philosophy, and biology). Korean monks had much freedom in designing courses, “including many of the useful branches of knowledge,” each with a “liberal” approach, as the Korea Review in 1906 praised.

By the time Korean monks were drawing up the institutional structure of the Wfnjong, Korean monks had already accumulated much knowledge and experience by working closely with Inoue and other Japa nese Buddhist missionaries of the Nichiren, Jōdo, Rinzai, and Shinshū sects. As seen in their prospectus, Yi and other leading monks gradually realized how essential it would be to establish a centralized

institution in order to reclaim the signifi cance of their own tradition in modern society and to participate in the making of a modern state, writing that “to break irrational old customs and participate in civilization and enlightenment” and “serving our nation for eternity.” Th ey were empowered enough to envision their autonomy and shared in the nationalizing, centralizing, and modernizing discourse dominant among many other contemporary Korean intellectuals.

Conclusion

Th e growing infl uence of the Japa nese Buddhist missionaries in Korea compelled the Korean government to change its anti- Buddhist stance. It responded by establishing the Wfnhgng temple and promulgating the 1902 Temple Ordinance, which emulated Japan’s head- branch temple system. Korean monks rode the wave of the advancement of Japa nese Buddhists in Korea. Th e failure of the Korean government’s policies to protect Korean monks and temple properties led Korean monastics to approach Japa nese Buddhists. However, the haphazard alliances also caused trouble for both the Korean and Japa nese authorities, which resulted in the 1906 Regulations. Th e regulations were originally designed to control Japa nese Buddhist missionaries. Clause 4 regulated the practice of turning Korean temples into branches of Japa nese Buddhist sects. Yet the regulations had the contrary eff ect of escalating the rate of private contracts made between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists because the Resident- General’s Offi ce was cautious in approving contracts out of fear of increasing anti- Japanese sentiments.

Korean monks had reasons to ally themselves with Japa nese Buddhist sects. Th ey needed protection from exploitation and threats from Japanese police, righ teous armies, yangban, and local offi cials. However, to cope with these adverse conditions, they needed, in Bourdieu’s terms, “the right social contact” (social capital) from somebody who possessed a feel for the game of “politics” (cultural capital). Korean monks, with the survival tactics they had inherited from the climate of the Chosfn period, took any opportunity available to better their situation. Th e best

opportunity this time came in the form of the infl uential and affl uent Japa nese Buddhist sects. Lacking protection from the government, Japanese Buddhism was something of a last resort for Korean Buddhists in late Chosfn Korea.

Korean monks also sought instruction from Japa nese Buddhist missionaries to acquire skills in education, propagation, and modern knowledge. As a result, Korean monks solidifi ed their modern Buddhist identity and envisioned creating a centralized, bureaucratic, and powerful institution that could regulate and govern all monastics in Korea. Japanese Buddhists, driven by colonialism, a need to hold back Christianity’s advances, Pan- Asian Buddhist visions, and sectarian expansion, intentionally and unintentionally provided Korean monks social and po liti cal capital to use for infl uencing the Korean and Japa nese authorities. Th erefore, the need Korean monks had to protect temple properties and to become educated about the enlightenment and civilization movement, and the need for Japa nese missionaries to expand their sectarian infl uence, were met at the right moment and through each other.

Chapter 5 Takeda Hanshi As A Sōtōshū Missionary

Among the Japa nese priests who worked in Korea, Takeda Hanshi
(1863– 1911) had perhaps the most enduring impact on the history of modern Korean Buddhism. Unfortunately, he is also one of the most despised fi gures of the period because of his involvement in the assassination of Queen Min in 1895. Worse, Takeda was a leading nongovernmental actor who, in collusion with Korean leaders, directly contributed to Japan’s annexation of Korea in 1910. Th ese two heinous acts alone provide Koreans with suffi cient evidence to charge Takeda as a villain. Takeda’s infamy does not stop here. In the eyes of contemporary Korean Buddhists, he is remembered as the most iniquitous of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries because he sought to take over Korean Buddhism altogether— a religious annexation following on the po liti cal one. Th is annexation was epitomized in an alliance or merger attempted between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū, Takeda’s sect, in 1910.

Because Takeda’s actions were particularly contemptible, even implying that Takeda may have made positive contributions to Korean Buddhism is risky business. For example, Japa nese Buddhist scholar Ishikawa Rikizan depicted Takeda as the diametric opposite of Uchiyama Gudō (1874– 1911), who is held up as a wise hero because he rejected Japa nese militarism and imperialism. Th ough two Korean scholars, Ha Chiyfn and Kim Sunsfk, in their discussion of the 1910 Sōtō- Wfnjong

alliance, have tried to give some latitude to Takeda’s counterpart Yi Hoegwang and the Wfnjong in an eff ort to draw out the agency of Korean Buddhists, there is no similarly nuanced treatment of Takeda’s work in relation to Korean Buddhism. Yet, maintaining that Takeda was solely a villain undermines the possibility that Korean Buddhists had agency, because a monolithic image of Takeda fi xes the responses of Korean monks: they can only either resist or collaborate with Takeda. Such a characterization eliminates the possibility of manipulation, persuasion, authenticity, politicking, and subtle maneuvering. Th erefore, in order to discover the diversity of responses of Korean Buddhists to their situation and to Takeda, one must fi rst take a more nuanced view of Takeda and his work.

Th us, this chapter concerns Takeda Hanshi as a Buddhist missionary, focusing especially on his relationships with the Korean Wfnjong, the Sōtōshū, the Jōdoshū, and other Korean religious and po liti cal organizations. Upon close examination of his activity and writings, a slightly diff erent picture of Takeda emerges, not one that can off set the conventional image of him but one that complexifi es it, especially in relation to Korean Buddhism. Takeda’s exceptional po liti cal infl uence in Korea and with the Japa nese government, combined with his status within the Sōtōshū, enabled him to work with key Korean monks and government offi cials to promote the causes of Korean Buddhism. Even prior to becoming advisor to the fi rst modern institution of Korean Buddhism, Takeda promoted Korean Buddhism by emphasizing the centrality of Buddhism in Korean civilization and by creating an institutional title, Wfnjong, for Korean Buddhism. He also made enormous eff orts, after 1908, to establish a semi- independent, centralized governing body for Korean Buddhism that would be on par with Japa nese Buddhist sects. Although he had sectarian interests, as is clear from his reports to the Sōtōshū, Takeda’s promotion of Korean Buddhism, by drawing on his po liti cal and religious connections, prompted Korean monks to reconfi gure their identity in the dawning of the modern era.

Takeda’S Life

Takeda was born on November 23, 1863, the third son of Sawa Shihē
(1837– 1879), a retainer in the Kurume fi ef of the Fukuoka prefecture.

His given name was Hanji, he was ordained as Kōchū, and his posthumous names were Zenrai and Jihō. His father was a staunch imperialist
(kinnōha) and, due to his involvement in the 1871 Meiji Four Incident
(Meishi jiken), was demoted on charges of treason by the newly established Meiji government. Takeda’s father died in 1878, when Takeda was eleven. He was adopted by Takeda Sadasuke, a medical doctor and a devotee to the emperor who intended to pass his medical occupation on to Takeda. However, after attending local schools for eight years, Takeda left home at the age of nineteen. He traveled throughout Japan, encountering many others who were grappling with understanding the rapidly changing domestic and international situation. In the meantime, he became deeply interested in Buddhism and, at one point, determined that he would read the entire Buddhist Canon (Daizōkyō).

(Later, in 1910, he launched a movement to preserve the Koryf Taejanggyfng, or Buddhist canon, housed at the Haein temple; this is discussed later in this chapter.) At age twenty- one, in 1883, Takeda became a disciple of Nematsu Gendō, a Sōtō monk at Kenshō- ji in the Niigata Prefecture. He became the head of this temple after his master’s death, but later gave away his position to his brother monk because he was away much of the time. He passed away from cancer on June 23, 1911, at the age of 49.

Although he was a Sōtō monk, Takeda performed substantial work in the po liti cal arena. He spent signifi cant time in Tokyo, active in the movement for freedom and people’s rights ( jiyū minken undō), a movement that others marginalized by the Meiji government attended. His

Figure 5.1: Th e last photo of Takeda taken before his death, during his recuperation at a spring (onsen) in December 1910. Source:
Kawakami Zenbe, Takeda Hanshi den.

po liti cal interests eventually led him to set his sights on Korea. In Korea, he was involved in a number of important events in the 1890s that changed the po liti cal relationship between Korea and Japan.

Work In Korea

Takeda was praised by Tōyama Mitsuru (1855– 1944), the de facto leader of an ultra- nationalist society (Gen’yōsha or Black Ocean Society) in Korea, as the “best of wanderers in Korea” (Chōsen rōnin no hakumai), a term applied to its members. He was also a staunch imperialist, a chauvinist activist, and a Pan- Asianist. Th ese titles derived mainly from Takeda’s adventures in Korea in the 1890s. In 1885, Takeda heard about the 1884 coup (Kapsin chfngbyfn)
in Korea attempted by the reformminded Enlightenment Party (Kaehwadang) while he was residing at

Kenshō- ji and later had a number of Koreans involved in this incident stay at his temple for protection. Th is relationship led him to familiarize himself with the Korean situation, and he determined to cross the sea to get directly involved in Korean politics. However, anti- Japanese sentiments and China’s dominance in Korea in the aftermath of the failed coup deterred him from leaving Japan. After eight years of waiting, he fi nally arrived in Pusan, commencing one of four major trips between 1892 and late 1910, until he returned permanently to his hometown Kurume for medical treatment of his laryngeal cancer.

His fi rst three trips to Korea were mostly for po liti cal rather than religious work. Th e fi rst trip, from 1892 to mid- 1893, was to raise funds for ultra- nationalist activities ultimately aimed at furthering “Asia’s reform.”
Takeda started a fi shery business along with thirty others, some of them members of the Black Ocean Society (Gen’yōsha), with the assistance of Yi Chuhoe (or Yi P’ung’yfng, 1843– 1895), the magistrate of Yfsu in Chflla Province and a former member of the Enlightenment Party.

Within six months, the business went bankrupt and Takeda had to abandon it. After a brief trip back to Japan, he returned to Pusan in late 1893. When a peasant rebellion (Tonghak- nan) broke out in Chflla Province in 1894, he helped form the Ten’yūkyō (Heaven Helping Society). Th is society consisted of fi fteen Japa nese “continent wanderers”

(tairiku rōnin), people who had been marginalized by the Meiji government, and it included Uchida Ryōhei (1874– 1937), who later became a key po liti cal fi gure in Korea, as well as Yoshikura Ōsei, Ōsaki Shōkichi, and Tanaka Jirō. In July of 1894, they met with Chfn Pongjun (1855– 1895), the leader of the Tonghak rebellion, and volunteered to become members of the Tonghak to fi ght against government troops and ultimately to topple the corrupt Korean government controlled by a faction loyal to Queen Min. Th ey traveled extensively in Korea with the Tonghak rebels, often staying in temples, the best places to hide. However, the Heaven Helping Society was voluntarily disestablished when its members realized that the prospects for achieving its goals looked bleak. (Some members later joined the Kokuryūkai [Amur River Society or Black Dragon Society], an ultra- nationalist group founded by Uchida in 1901.) Takeda went on to work as a spy for the Japa nese government during the Sino- Japanese War in 1894. He became ill and returned to Japan for treatment.

Th e following year, in 1895, he made a third trip to Korea, during which he became involved in Queen Min’s assassination. Colluding with the Taewfn’gun, the father- in- law and archenemy of Queen Min, Takeda and more than forty other Japa nese, accompanied by a couple of hundred Japa nese and Korean soldiers, invaded the palace at dawn on October 8, murdered the queen, incinerated her body, and brought the Taewfn’gun, nominally, back to power. (Th e assassination occurred

several months after the Nichiren missionary Sano got the Taewfn’gun to lift the anti- Buddhist policy.) Th ose Japa nese involved in the incident, including Takeda, the former Japa nese consul to Korea Okamoto Ryūnosuke, and Okamoto’s successor Miura Gorō (1847– 1926), were arrested by the Japa nese government and imprisoned in Hiroshima for roughly fi ve weeks. All were acquitted of charges for lack of evidence, even though Westerners and even Japa nese present at the time reported witnessing the direct involvement of the Japa nese.

Whether Takeda was one of the Japa nese wanderers who killed Queen Min is unclear in extant sources. Takeda wrote to his brother Saba Yasusuke from prison on October 29 denying his direct involvement: “As far as we [Takeda and Shiba Shirō, 1852– 1922] were concerned, we should not be considered as such [premeditated murderers or members of a ring of ruffi ans] as suspected by the court. Shiba and I had been ill and I had recovered enough to be able to go sightseeing [in Korea]. Th us, it is true that I went there [to Seoul], but I am almost irrelevant to the event.”
However, despite Takeda’s alibi, scholar Takizawa Makoto speculates that Takeda must have played an important role because of his close relationship with Yi Chuhoe, the leader of the Korean soldiers with whom Takeda started a fi shery business two years previously and who also took part in the assassination. Inoue Tasuku goes as far as to say that the plan to eliminate Queen Min was Takeda’s. Even though Takizawa excludes the possibility of Takeda’s direct engagement in action, it is undeniable that Takeda was there that morning in the palace along with other Japanese searching for Queen Min, as the report by the Japa nese consul Uchida Sadatsuchi (1865– 1942) fi led soon after the incident attests.

One report included Japa nese police offi cer Ogiwara Hidejirō’s private interview with Takeda, who acknowledged that he, Takeda, had “entered the palace right next to the palanquin that the Taewfn’gun was riding.”
For the next ten years or so, until Takeda returned to Korea with Uchida Ryōhei and after Korea became a protectorate of Japan in 1905, Takeda focused on work at the Kenshō- ji, where he was the abbot, and poured his energy in reforming the Sōtōshū. His administrative skills were recognized by the Sōtōshū headquarters, which nominated him to be a member of the council of Sōtōshū branch temples in 1902. In 1904, he was nominated to become a parliamentary member of the Sōtōshū headquarters and a director for the Sōtōshū mission in Korea. In 1905, he expanded his master’s temple property by purchasing state land contiguous to the temple and held a precepts ceremony, with Ishikawa Sodō
(1841– 1920) as the preceptor, to commemorate the war dead.

Relationship With Korean Buddhism

Takeda’s relationship with Korean Buddhism has been mainly understood as an extension of his po liti cal goal to make Koreans subjects of the Japa nese emperor (kōminka). However, equally if not more important were his sectarian and Pan- Asian Buddhist motivations, as well.

Despite ten years’ absence from Korea, when he returned in 1906 Takeda easily reconnected himself to the former Tonghak and proJapanese leaders, especially to Yi Yonggu (1868– 1912), the head of the Sich’fn’gyo (Heaven Serving Religion), a religious faction of the Tonghak established in 1906, and to Song Pyfngjun (1858– 1925), the leader of

the Ilchinhoe, a po liti cal party established in 1904. Takeda worked as a de facto advisor to both the Ilchinhoe and the Sich’fn’gyo from 1906 onward. In 1908, on the recommendation of Yi Yonggu and Uchida, Takeda was also nominated to become the advisor to the Wfnjong.

From 1908 to 1910, Takeda’s role as a Sōtō missionary and advisor to the Wfnjong became as signifi cant as his po liti cal engagements with the Ilchinhoe and Sich’fn’gyo.

Takeda emerged as a major player on the Korean scene in part because Uchida brought him in to help push for Korea’s annexation. One of the central reasons Uchida picked Takeda in the fi rst place is that Takeda had broad knowledge of Buddhist and Confucian texts and was able to write fl uently in Chinese, an ability that was crucial to communicating with and befriending non- Japanese- speaking Korean leaders such as Yi Yonggu and Song Pyfngjun. Th us Takeda became the author of numerous petitions and memoranda regarding reforms and annexation, written on behalf of the Ilchinhoe (a po liti cal party), the Sich’fn’gyo
(a religious party), and the Wfnjong (the Buddhist institution). Takeda was indispensable to Uchida’s po liti cal goals and, without him, Uchida might not have succeeded in getting Korea annexed to Japan.

And, without Uchida, Takeda would not have risen to prominence nor played a crucial role in several major colonial projects. Th rough Uchida, Takeda became involved with the Sich’fn’gyo, promoting it as the best religion to bring reform and modernization to Korea, unite Asian religions (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism), curb the encroach-

ment of Christianity, and oust the white race from Asia. Takeda believed in Pan- Asian ideology, which was, as Sven Saaler says, “an omnipresent force in modern Japan’s foreign policy as well as in the pro cess of the creation of a Japa nese identity.” Slogans such as “solidarity with Asia” (Ajia rentai), “raising Asia” (Kō- A), and “developing Asia” (Shin- A)
became pop u lar. Th e Ilchinhoe and the Sich’fn’gyo were the kinds of organizations that could participate in this Pan- Asianism.

Takeda’s background as a Sōtōshū priest and missionary to Korea made it natural for him to turn his attention toward Korean Buddhism. In fact, he had witnessed fi rsthand the conditions of Korean Buddhism when, as a member of the Heaven Helping Society, he visited a number of temples, such as the Kwanch’ok and Sinwfn temples and other small hermitages, from 1892 to 1894. It was at Sinwfn Temple where the Ten’yūkyō spent some time disbanding itself. Th ere is no detailed record however of Takeda’s interactions with Korean monastics at these monasteries. Rather, it is likely that his understanding of Korean Buddhism expanded during a trip he made with Yi Yonggu in 1907 in which the two took an ethnographic survey of Korean Buddhism on behalf of the Resident- General’s Offi ce. Based on this experience, Takeda, writing as the advisor to the Wfnjong in late 1908, drafted an essay the following year on the situation of Korean religion and Buddhism, which he later submitted to Korean and Japa nese government offi cials in Korea and to the Sōtō headquarters. Given Takeda’s par tic u lar background, administrative skills, and knowledge of Korean Buddhism, it is not surprising then that Uchida recommended Takeda become the advisor to the Wfnjong, newly created in early 1908.

Evolving Support For Korean Buddhism

Well before his nomination as advisor to the Wfnjong, Takeda showed an interest in revitalizing Korean Buddhism. However, in his earlier

writings on the role of Korean Buddhism in larger projects, he was careful not to advocate too strenuously for Korean Buddhism since, at the time, he was working with the Tonghak and the Sich’fn’gyo, for which Buddhism was of secondary importance. For example, in a letter to Chfn Pongjun, the leader of the Tonghak movement, written in January 1895 from prison in Hiroshima, Takeda stresses the unity of the three traditions (Taoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism) and makes it clear that “it is not my intention that Korea should worship Buddhism.”
At this time, he was aware that the main tenets of the Tonghak movement treated Buddhism equally (at best) with Confucianism and Taoism. In addition, he was conscious of his identity as a Buddhist priest and knew that others would interpret what ever he said about Buddhism as revealing a preference for his own tradition. In sum, it may well be that Takeda early on had a vision for how Korean Buddhism could fulfi ll a Pan- Asian Buddhist vision and other goals, but it is hard to know exactly what he thought because of the po liti cal constraints he had at the time.

After starting to work as advisor to the Sich’fn’gyo as of 1906, Takeda began showing a clearer interest in Korean Buddhism. He wrote to Yi Yonggu, the head of the Sich’fn’gyo, to receive some perspective on the status of Korean Buddhism. Although Takeda’s original letter is not available, a copy of Yi’s reply on January 9, 1907, reveals Takeda’s original questions. Yi wrote, “As for [Korean] Buddhism, one should ask the head monk of the Wfnhgng temple to inquire about the number of Korean monastics, other matters, and the historical rec ords on Master Ch’egwan [d. 971] of the Koryf dynasty.” Two months later, Takeda expressed his aspirations for rejuvenating Korean Buddhism in a letter, dated March 12, 1907, again to Yi Yonggu. Th is letter was occasioned by his meeting with the Sōtōshū Master Hioki Mokuzen (1847– 1920), who had been traveling in Manchuria (becoming the fi rst Sōtō missionary to

Manchuria), China, and Korea for two months (January 18 to March 14, 1907). Takeda met Hioki on March 5 in Seoul and shared his ideas on how to revitalize Korean Buddhism. Hioki concurred with Takeda’s ideas (later, in his talk at T’ongdo temple, Hioki mentioned Takeda’s vision to the 250 resident monks). On March 11, Takeda shared the same thoughts with Han Kyfngwfn, Yi Yonggu’s interpreter, who recommended that Takeda write his ideas down and send them to Yi Yonggu for consultation. Takeda wrote “A Letter Suggesting the Revitalization of [Korean] Buddhism” (Kan Bukkyō saikōsho), which Han translated and presented to Yi.

In this important letter, Takeda deplores the backward conditions of Korean monks, fi nding it unconscionable that monks “were prohibited from entering the capital” and that “people considered the monk’s robe (kesa) as nothing more than dirt and shit.” He observes that “[e]ven after the prohibition law was lifted, monks were hesitant to even consider stepping into Seoul,” and that, when Japan made Korea a protectorate in 1905, “Japa nese monks were placed at the highest position of the human world while Korean monks were thrown down to the lowest.” As denigrating as Takeda’s letter may sound, his colleague Yi Yonggu mirrored this view in a letter dated May 6, 1910, in which he listed monks as outcasts of Korean society. Takeda probably intended to convey shock, and the observation was meant to set the stage for his ideas on how to move Korean monks up the social ladder.

Indeed, the letter went on to say that in order to resuscitate Korean Buddhism, the fi rst step should be “to elevate monks’ status so as to eliminate people’s derogatory attitudes toward the monks.” To accomplish this, Takeda, quoting an old teaching from the Buddha that “one who falls to the ground can use the same ground to stand up,” argues, “If Seoul was the place where Buddhism perished, it should be where Buddhism rises again.” For this reason, he demands that “[t]he central religious offi ce [of Korean Buddhism] should be situated inside [the four gates] of Seoul and

the leader, elected by likeminded monks, should administer it.” He adds, “Th ey should invite eminent masters from Japan for dharma talks,” so that “people and government offi cials can witness [and learn from] how these masters are received with respect.” At the end of his letter, Takeda reminds Yi that “Buddhism . . . [is] contained in the Sich’fn’gyo, and by helping Buddhism regain the glories of Silla and Koryf Buddhism, these three religions [Buddhism, the Sich’fn’gyo, and Taoism] will be able to stop Christianity.” Th is 1907 letter reveals that Takeda was beginning to shift his priorities toward revitalizing Korean Buddhism.

In another letter to Yi Yonggu, dated March 18, Takeda draws on the letter from Hioki written after Hioki had visited the T’ongdo temple. Th e master observed that there were three groups of Korean monks at the temple: the fi rst group seeks protection through the Jōdoshū, another through the Honganji, and yet another through the Sōtōshū. As a matter of fact, because the T’ongdo temple was located near Pusan and was one of the wealthiest temples in Korea, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries took special interest in recruiting monks, and monks likewise sought sponsorship from the missionaries for studies and travel in Japan. As mentioned previously, in the late 1870s, Yi Tong’in and Mugam were sponsored by Okumura. In 1895, Chaemyfng (the abbot of T’ongdo), through the support of the Nichiren missionary Katō Bunkyō, toured a number of Nichiren temples. In 1897, Ungjo took the Jōdo missionary Misumida Jimon as his master. In 1898, a later abbot of T’ongdo, Hosan, along with the monks Yfnjfn, Mongch’o, Chaeyfng, and Ch’wihyfn, got Shiraishi Gyōkai to send them to Jōdo temples in Japan to study Buddhism. Another monk, Kim Yfnggi (discussed in the following chapter), studied at the Sōtōshū’s school from 1904 on. All of these monks were from the same temple. Like T’ongdo monks, monastics at other major temples sought affi liations with diff erent sects of Japa nese Buddhism. While Japa nese sects were irritated by these multiple affi liations because it made it impossible for any one sect to claim the temple as theirs, the Korean monks generally were not bothered by their brethrens’ diff erence in choice.

In order to resolve the problem of this disunity, Takeda argues in his letter to Yi Yonggu that Korean Buddhists “should put an end to this

proclivity for dependence [on Japa nese sects] and establish a central religious offi ce in Seoul.” Takeda also criticizes Japa nese Buddhist sects for the impulsive way in which they sought to take over Korean temples and for “making major temples and mountains in Korea an arena of competition.” Takeda appears to take a non- sectarian position— at least when writing to Korean Buddhists— by stressing that “Korean temples have their own [unique] tradition and they should not be matched to either the Jōdoshū or Nichirenshū, who are themselves only recently established as sects in Japan. It is as if Lamaism [Tibetan Buddhism] were to take over Tendai Mountain. Th is is what one who pursues the highest virtues should avoid.”
Along the same lines, Takeda sent a subtle poem warning Hioki prior to the master’s visit to a Korean temple. It recommended that Hioki not meddle in the temple’s matters: “If you [by any chance] dye one of your fi ngers in this distinguished place [T’ongdo temple], you, Master, would be instantly rendered the head of thieves.” In line with Takeda’s advice, Hioki’s talk to the 250 monks did not bring up the Sōtōshū but rather highlighted the threats that Christianity posed to Korea and Korean Buddhism. Hioki presented the example of the former Christian, Col onel Olcott, who converted to Buddhism because he realized that Christianity was irrational. Hioki then urged the Buddhists from Japan and Korea to respond to Christianity’s incursions by collaborating to revitalize Korean Buddhism. Toward the end of his talk, he assured the monks that the Resident- General’s Offi ce promised to “provide protection” and
“con ve niences” to Korean Buddhism.

Takeda’s growing interest in Korean Buddhism also led him to modify the hierarchy of the three religions of the Sich’fn’gyo, although indirectly and subtly. In one of his lectures to the Sich’fn’gyo members in 1907, he uses the meta phors of a bird and a chariot to emphasize the inseparable but hierarchical relationship among the religious traditions.

He likens Buddhism to “the body of a bird” while the other two, Taoism

and Confucianism, are its “two wings”; similarly, Buddhism is “the main body of a chariot” while the other two are its “two wheels.” Th en, what is the role of the Sich’fn’gyo in his typology? It merely needs to facilitate this unifi cation, which implies that the Sich’fn’gyo is ultimately the promoter of Korean Buddhism. Of course, Takeda did not articulate this so directly to the Sich’fn’gyo members. One time, a Sich’fn’gyo leader named Ch’oe Kinam (1875– 1946), who was deeply concerned about Takeda’s seemingly outright promotion of Korean Buddhism, challenged him. Takeda evaded him by saying that Buddhism and Confucianism are “the engines of the Sich’fn’gyo.”
Takeda also wanted to revitalize Korean Buddhism because of his anxiety about Christianity’s success. Th is concern comes out in a brief history of Korean Buddhism that he submitted to the resident- general and the minister of home aff airs:
In at least less than three de cades, the number of Christians will reach more than two million; this year there will be more than two hundred American missionaries and the American Missionary Association will increase its bud get for Korean missions to one hundred million yen. Given that their propagation in Korea complies with the po liti cal interests of their own country, the prospect for Korea from now on will be terribly unendurable.

Takeda considered revitalizing Buddhism as crucial to challenging Christianity and Western imperialism.

A close reading of his writings supports the idea that Takeda inevitably prioritized Buddhism over other religions. As Takeda’s relationship with the Wfnjong and its elected leader Yi Hoegwang deepened, his personal identity as a Buddhist priest gradually dominated his strategy on the role of Buddhism in Korea, culminating in his outright promotion of the Sōtōshū- Wfnjong alliance in 1910 as the best way to resuscitate the Korean Buddhist tradition.

Figure 5.2: Yi Hoegwang’s letter of recommendation nominating Takeda as the Wfnjong’s advisor. Source:
Kawakami, 381.

Involvement With The Wfnjong

As refl ected in his letter to Hioki, Takeda was sensitive to how Japa nese sectarian competition was causing Korean monks to feel cautious about working with Japa nese Buddhists. Th us, upon becoming the Wfnjong’s advisor, Takeda took care to act not as a representative of the Sōtōshū but as an in de pen dent priest. He sensed that Korean monks were fed up with the sectarian competition among Japa nese Buddhists and that, although Korean Buddhists sought the support and protection of Japa nese Buddhists, they were wary of allying themselves with any one sect. He suggested four conditions before accepting the Wfnjong monks’ request: the unity [of the sangha] should be solidifi ed; po liti cal support should be undertaken; protection from other sects should not be sought; and the advisor should serve in a personal capacity rather than as a Sōtō monk. Th e Wfnjong monks welcomed his conditions. Takeda then asked Yi Hoegwang to convene a sangha meeting at the Pohyfn temple to discuss establishing a central offi ce for the Wfnjong. Interestingly, at the time, this temple was under the protection of the Buddhist missionary Furukawa Taikō from the Rinzaishū, and Takeda’s suggestion of using that temple for the meeting may have been partly intended to alienate the Rinzaishū from it.

After the meeting, Yi, representing monks from fi fty- two temples, submitted a petition on July 27, 1908, titled Th e Problems of Korean Buddhism to the home minister of Imperial Korea, Song Pyfngjun. Th e petition requested legal approval for the newly formed Wfnjong. It is this petition that Takeda ends up spending his next three years fi ghting to get approved by the Korean and Japa nese authorities in Korea. Yi opens

the petition by deploring the ruinous state of Korean monks, whose rights were not recognized and who could not enjoy the benefi ts of modern society. He writes, “After witnessing the situation of Buddhism in other parts of the world, I, Hoegwang and likeminded monks, intend to establish a central institution to make Buddhist teachings pop u lar, and ultimately to make the Buddhist institution of our country comparable to the Buddhism of other countries.”
Th e Wfnjong’s petition, which followed Yi’s letter and which refl ects Takeda and Yi’s vision for Korean Buddhism, requests that the Korean and Japa nese authorities approve and abide by nine items, as follows:

1. Create a central religious offi ce for the Wfnjong, have the Minister of Home Aff airs directly supervise it, and have the offi ce administer all the temples of the thirteen provinces.
2. Allow people to freely practice their belief in the three jewels [the Buddha, dharma, and sangha], and to not interfere with funerals and other public rituals.
3. Allow monks and nuns to publicly preach the dharma and to conduct rituals as requested.
4. Any administrative decision in the Wfnjong should receive the approval from the Minister of Home Aff airs.
5. Th e position for the head monk of the central religious offi ce requires the recommendation of the Minister of Home Aff airs.
6. Th e head monk is responsible for the nominations of abbots for all the head temples, the departmental heads of the central religious offi ce and other clerical positions, and the heads of the provincial branch offi ces.
7. Th e central religious offi ce should guarantee the rights of each temple in the thirteen provinces to their trea sures, forests, and other properties.
8. Each head temple of the thirteen provinces should be responsible for all the expenses of the central religious offi ce.
9. In case the central religious offi ce misuses its power, each temple can complain to the Minister of Home Aff airs.
10. Ibid. 53. Ibid. 54. Ibid.

Signifi cantly, the sixth clause requires that the power of nominating abbots for the major temples of Korea reside with the leader of the Wfnjong and not with any authority in the Sōtōshū, Japa nese Buddhism, or government. Th is is clear evidence that, even though the terms were drafted under Takeda’s advisement, Takeda did not seek (at least not overtly) to control the Wfnjong. Rather, the terms suggest that Takeda, working with the Wfnjong leadership, sought to create a relatively in depen dent Korean Buddhist administrative institution. Th e lack of mention of the Sōtōshū or Japa nese Buddhist indicates that Takeda, at least at this point, was not making moves to get the Sōtōshū overly involved.

Without doubt, to Takeda Japa nese Buddhism in general and the Sōtōshū in par tic u lar was a model for the modernization of Korean Buddhism, a perception shared by not a few Korean monastics as well. However, at least during this pre- colonial period in which Korea was nominally sovereign, Takeda did not push for Japa nese Buddhism to control Korean Buddhism institutionally. Rather, at this point in time Takeda’s petition on behalf of the Wfnjong can be seen an extension of his PanAsian Buddhist discourse, rather than solely of his imperialist ambition.

Appeal To Korean And Japa Nese Offi Cials

Yi Hoegwang sent the same petition to Prime Minister Yi Wanyong (1856– 1926), as well as to the Resident- General’s Offi ce. Takeda and Yi, to their chagrin, did not hear back from either the Korean imperial government (Song Pyfngjun and Yi Wanyong) or the Resident- General’s Offi ce. Two months later, in September 1908, Takeda re- sent the same petition, adding his own thoughts. Th e appeal is a lengthy letter of over ten handwritten pages that reveals much about Takeda’s thinking in this pre- annexation period on the governance and protection of Buddhism, the preservation of Buddhist trea sures, his pro- Sōtōshū views, and his problems with the Jōdoshū.

Takeda opens by expressing frustration that his and Yi’s petition has not yet been approved. He writes that, assuming the government will take careful consideration of this petition, he would like to help government offi cials understand the contents more clearly. He provides three principal reasons for the petition: fi rst, to obtain freedom of faith; second,

to reclaim human rights for Korean monks; and third, to preserve national trea sures and properties of temples.

To elaborate on the three primary reasons, Takeda reiterates the nine items of the earlier petition and adds detailed explanations of his own. Takeda characterizes these items as “the driving force of the operation of a religious institution” and “the principle spirit of institutional or ga ni zation” that “clarify the relationships among the government, the central offi ce, and temples.”

Governance And Protection

Th e nine items, along with Takeda’s notes, can be summed up into two major points: fi rst, that the central offi ce should administrate Korean Buddhist matters, and second, that the head monk should assume all executive power. To make his point, Takeda criticizes the fact that monks are nominated to abbacies in a mishmash of ways. Abbots are sometimes nominated by the Ministry of Culture and Education (Yejo), at other times by the Department of the Royal House hold, and yet other times by local magistrates. “Even cunning monks,” he argues, “[are able to] overtake temples with just a letter [he secured] from those in power.” In fact, in 1898, an offi cial decided he wanted the Korean nationalist Kim Ku to be the abbot of a local temple and wrote a letter to make that happen. In order to rectify this problem, Takeda proposes providing Korean Buddhism with an administrative structure. Th ere would be a central offi ce of Korean Buddhism located in central Seoul under the supervision of the Home Ministry. Th is central offi ce would be made into the great head temple of Korean Buddhism, and under it T’ongdosa, Haeinsa, Songgwangsa, and others would become head temples. Th e system would be run by the Wfnjong. In terms of electing the head monk of the Wfnjong, even though Korean monks will need to nominate him in future years, given that this would be the fi rst time, the home minister should nominate the fi rst head priest, namely Yi Hoegwang, after which the Wfnjong monks will choose their own leader.

Takeda believed that the creation of a centralized governing system of Korean Buddhism would strengthen the institutional and social status of the Korean sangha. Th ese points are consistent with those Takeda made to Yi Yonggu in letters before 1908, when he became the Wfnjong’s advisor.

Takeda goes on to argue for why the Korean government should extend itself to protect Korean Buddhism. He begins by revisiting the historical relationship between state and religion in Japan. During the Edo period, the government supervised Japa nese Buddhism through sect regulations and supported sects “as if they were imperial families.” In the wake of the Meiji Restoration, the government ended its support and protection of Buddhism when it adopted the Western concept of separation of church and state. But in the years that followed, the Meiji government changed this stance and brought Buddhism back into the state structure. Takeda likewise wanted the Korean government to protect Korean Buddhism by incorporating it into its government system. In Japan, for example, the Home Ministry had each sect choose its own head priest and entrusted to him the enactment of temple codes, the appointment of abbots, and the control of the denomination. Th e American system of laissez- faire toward religion, argues Takeda, does not apply to the unique Buddhist tradition of Japan and Korea. Rather, modern Buddhism should receive special support from the state. Th at is why, he explains, when the Meiji government attempted to pass the Religions Bill (shūkyō hōan), Buddhists requested that Buddhist institutions be made into a corporate body but other religions become a private association. Th e bill eventually failed to pass due to Buddhists’ opposition, and the old tradition of preferential treatment for Buddhism continued. Takeda maintained that Korean Buddhism should be treated in the same way. Takeda’s vision of how modern Buddhism would relate to the state was shared by many other Japa nese and Korean monastics at the time. It con ve niently combined a traditional element in which the state provided support and protection with a Western element in which Buddhism remained autonomous.

Accordingly, Takeda makes suggestions to the resident- general regarding religious policies in order to get the government to support the Wfnjong. He agrees that civilized countries such as the United States took an approach of non- interference (hōnin- shugi) toward religion on the basis of the separation of church and state. However, he provides two cases in which the state protects religion: Rus sia and En gland have their state religions, Greek Orthodoxy and Anglicanism, respectively. To Takeda, improving Korean Buddhism requires the government’s administrative protection. Th is protection would involve having the Minister of Home Aff airs of the Korean government oversee the central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong, which in turn supervises the head temples. Under the wings of the government, Korean Buddhism, he believed, could gradually regain strength, which had been weakened over the centuries.

Takeda concludes his letter by adamantly stating, “It is the Korean government that should be responsible for compensating the usurpation of the human rights [of Korean monks] that occurred over the last three hundred years.” Approving the central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong, he maintains, is the fi rst step toward that. Th us, although Takeda argues for government support for and protection of Korean Buddhism, he envisions Korean Buddhism as being fairly in de pen dent, controlling and determining most of its own internal aff airs. At the same time, Takeda does not want the government to worry that the Korean Buddhism he and Yi have envisioned was so in de pen dent that it would have extraterritorial rights. He assures the government that he and the Wfnjong are well aware of their legal limits and that, therefore, there should be no reason the petition should not be approved.

Preservation Of Property And Trea Sures

Takeda also makes an appeal for preserving national trea sures and temple properties. It could be that Takeda felt these items were important to Korean Buddhism’s self- understanding. He demonstrates par tic u lar affection for the wood- block carvings of the Buddhist canon at the Haein temple, where Yi Hoegwang was the acting abbot at the time. Takeda was familiar with the Taejanggyfng (Buddhist canon), which he had

sought to master during his monastic training period in Japan years earlier. In fact, Japan’s fascination with this canon goes back to when the blocks were carved in the thirteenth century. Even throughout the Chosfn period, Japa nese central and local governments kept sending envoys, mostly Buddhist priests, begging for copies of the canon, among other sacred artifacts. When Korea began disintegrating in the early twentieth century, these trea sures became easy prey for Japa nese Buddhists and curators, who longed to bring the originals back to Japan. For instance, in 1909 a Japa nese priest named Satō attempted to remove the entire canon from the Haein temple to Japan. Others knocked on the doors of Japa nese and Korean authorities for permission. More respectfully, the Japa nese Kaneo Jirō received permission to make a copy of the Haein canon from the Department of the Royal House hold. Th e potential poaching of the Haeinsa Taejanggyfng and similar cases around the country discomfi ted and caused resentment among many Korean monks, who did not know how to safeguard their trea sures.

Due to his close relationship with Yi Hoegwang and Yi Yonggu, this case came to Takeda’s attention and he intervened, writing several petitions to the government authorities in Korea. In one petition, Takeda pressed Resident- General Sone Arasuke (1849– 1910) to offi cially designate the wooden canons as a cultural trea sure and to protect them so they could not be smuggled. His six- thousand- word petition articulates the genealogy, quality, and preservation of the canon to make a case for why it should be nominated as a world trea sure. He blames the Japa nese authorities for “disregarding religion,” and demands that the residentgeneral put the Home Ministry in charge of protecting the national treasures. Sone ignored Takeda’s petition. Only after Korea was annexed and Terauchi Masatake took over Korea as the governor- general was Takeda’s request followed through on.

Takeda’s eff orts to defend Korean Buddhist trea sures provide yet another piece of evidence that Takeda desired Korean Buddhism to be elevated to a state- recognized and protected religion.

208 Takeda Hanshi As A Sōtōshū Missionary Emerging Pro- St Views

While Takeda’s points in this letter of 1908 are consistent with those he made to Yi Yonggu in letters a few years earlier, one section of writing represents a new line of argument. Here, Takeda provides reasons why the Wfnjong sought assistance from the Sōtōshū over that of other Japanese Buddhist sects. Even though Takeda does his best to appear neutral, he cannot help but reveal a pro- Sōtōshū position. Th e following paragraph provides his rationale:
In order to set up a religious system in Korea, emulating Japan’s is inevitable. If so, Korea should take the Zen sects as a model from among the others, because the Korean temple system has been traditionally founded upon Zen regulations. Among the Zen sects, it is the Sōtōshū that is most perfectly equipped to help them. I am not saying this just because I am a Sōtō priest. Th is spring [May], when Yi Hoegwang came to Japan [and visited the Sōtōshū to ask for help], he was delighted to fi nd similarities between the temples of the Sōtōshū and the Korean temples. Th erefore, he sought protection through the Sōtōshū when the guerrillas [Korean righ teous armies, rampant as of 1905] were widespread.

By saying that the Sōtōshū is the “most perfectly equipped to help” and that “he [Yi] was delighted to fi nd similarities” between two traditions, did Takeda mean, as scholars have suggested, that in order for the Wfnjong to be modernized it should seek to be fully incorporated into the Sōtōshū? No. Takeda was aware that the intense sectarian rivalry among Japa nese sects was antagonizing Korean Buddhists, and he knew that to push a pro- Sōtō agenda outright would alienate the Wfnjong. Th us, in the last part of this petition, Takeda writes that the Sōtōshū should exist as it is, as should the Wfnjong, indicating that having the Wfnjong emulate the Sōtōshū would not necessitate merger or annexation.

Rather, in light of the original petition’s nine items, which Takeda helped formulate, his intention in this explanatory letter was likewise to elevate the Wfnjong such that it would be equal to the Japa nese Buddhist sects.

In this review of Takeda’s writing so far, it is apparent that Takeda made a concerted eff ort to work beyond sectarian lines. He justifi es the Wfnjong’s emulation of the Sōtō administrative system by saying it was what the Wfnjong monks themselves desired. It is true that even before Takeda became advisor to the Wfnjong, the Wfnjong had turned to the Sōtōshū for assistance. Th erefore, at this point in his writings, contrary to what scholarship on this period maintains, Takeda did not show any clear signs that he intended to bring the Wfnjong— namely, all of Korean Buddhism— under control of the Sōtōshū. Scholars tend to claim that even before annexation in 1910, Takeda sounded out Yi Hoegwang as to a possible merger of the two sects. It is true that Takeda had a merger in mind and would have desired it to happen, but one needs to wait for conclusive evidence to support the assertion that he acted on it prior to Japan’s annexation of Korea. It is more likely that Takeda tried to think of himself as an in de pen dent agent and that he acted consciously and consistently with this position in his dealings with the Wfnjong, at least up until Japan annexed Korea in 1910.

Confrontations With The Jdosh

In this same appeal of September 1908, Takeda confesses that members of the Sich’fn’gyo, Confucians, and Christians might oppose the petition aimed at elevating Korean Buddhism to a state- sponsored religion.

Takeda argues, however, that the Sich’fn’gyo, as a dominant religion in present- day Korea, would be more than happy to see Korean Buddhism revitalized, as it would need an ally in fending off Christianity. NeoConfucians, although dismayed by Korean Buddhism’s reemergence, would not necessarily disrupt it, since the Korean emperor and the empress favor Buddhism. Th ough Christianity might interrupt the pro cess, it would hesitate to make too vigorous a challenge because of its need to quietly continue missionary work. What concerned Takeda the most was not external confrontation from these three but internal competition

among Japa nese Buddhists in general and interference from the “greedy” Jōdoshū in par tic u lar.

Takeda’s relationship with the Jōdoshū became increasingly antagonistic soon after he was appointed the advisor to the Sich’fn’gyo and the Ilchinhoe, and later advisor to the Wfnjong. Th ree incidents gave rise to his animosity for the Jōdoshū, which ran in many ways as deeply as his hostility to Christianity. First, as discussed in chapter 3, in late 1905 the Jōdoshū collided with the Ilchinhoe, the po liti cal or ga ni za tion Takeda advised. Han Kyfngwfn, Yi Yonggu’s interpreter, was one of the Ilchinhoe members who witnessed the violence escalated by the Jōdo members. Han informed Takeda of this confl ict as well as of the Jōdo members’ meddling with the Ilchinhoe’s programs, causing Takeda to become further displeased with the Jōdoshū.

Second, at the same time that Takeda was emerging as a key fi gure in Korea, the Jōdoshū was still expanding, even though Inoue Genshin, the director of the Jōdoshū’s mission to Korea, had lost his infl uence over the Myfngjin School and the Wfnhgng temple in 1907.

When Yi Hoegwang took over leadership of the school and the temple, Inoue attempted to retake them. Th en, yet another Jōdo priest colluded with two Korean offi cials to oust Yi and the Wfnjong (discussed later in this chapter).

Th ird, Takeda’s enmity intensifi ed when Jōdoshū missionaries attempted to usurp control of the important, wealthy T’ongdo temple.

Th e Jōdo missionary Saibi Kōtan sought to make it an offi cial branch of

the Jōdoshū. A Wfnjong monk, Kang Taeryfn (1875– 1942), allegedly rushed to the temple and had to use force to chase him away.

Th is background explains why Takeda rails against the Jōdoshū with such intensity in his appeal letter on behalf of the Wfnjong. In fact, he reminds government offi cials that Jōdo missionaries had created considerable headaches for the government itself. Takeda attributes the ResidentGeneral’s Offi ce issuance of “Th e Regulations on the Propagation of Religion of 1906” (Shūkyō no senpu ni kansuru kisoku), an eff ort to control Japa nese religious organizations in Korea, to the confl icts caused by Jōdo missionaries. However, he reminds readers that these regulations, paradoxically, were causing Japa nese sects to act even more aggressively.

Takeda was sure that their power grab would eventually turn the Korean Buddhist community away from Japan. Th us, he writes, “Whenever I see Japa nese Buddhist sects forcibly take over Korean temples, it saddens me. Th erefore, I intend only to enlighten Korean people [and monks] on the basis of Buddhism [beyond sectarian identifi cation].” What Takeda was trying to accomplish by stressing the ill eff ects of the rivalry among Japanese Buddhist sects was to assure Resident General Itō that he was not working on behalf of the Sōtōshū but simply for the benefi t of Korean Buddhism. In short, Takeda sought to appear above sectarianism by criticizing it.

As it turned out, Takeda was right about being concerned about the threat of the Jōdoshū. In 1910, Yi Hoegwang had launched a major project to build a temple inside central Seoul that could serve as the headquarters for Korean Buddhism, but he needed to secure funds. Yi visited and made a deal with the T’ongdo temple that, if the Home Ministry approved the Wfnjong Central Offi ce, Yi himself would make the

T’ongdo temple the great head temple such that it would control all of Korea’s temples. However, a government offi cial from the Home Ministry named Yokoyama, who happened to be visiting the temple, told Yi in front of others that the government would not approve the Wfnjong and its central religious offi ce. As a result, Yi failed to gain any monetary commitment from the temple. However, it came out that a Jōdo missionary had gotten Yokoyama to say this. Worse, Yi’s plans were published in Korean and Japa nese newspapers, and the editors denounced Yi as a “corrupt charlatan.” Takeda had to step in. In two separate newspaper articles, Takeda defended Yi and criticized the papers for questioning Yi’s legitimate leadership and rightful fund- raising eff orts. In par tic u lar, he blamed Yokoyama and a Jōdo priest for misusing their power to impede the Wfnjong movement.

Broadly speaking, Takeda’s letter to Korean and Japa nese government offi cials reveals two points that undermine the characterization of Takeda as ultranationalists alone. First, Takeda’s lobbying of reluctant Japa nese and Korean offi cials shows that there existed in Korea multiple and contested interests, not just between Koreans and Japa nese but among the Japa nese themselves. Second, Takeda’s concern regarding Japanese Buddhist internecine confl icts disrupts the idea that a unifi ed Japanese Buddhism worked coherently to advance Meiji interests.

Relationship To The Sōtōshū

In the spring of 1908 Takeda sent a request to the headquarters of the Sōtōshū that he be appointed superintendent of the Sōtō mission to Korea, a high position at the time. Th e central offi ce, upon realizing that Takeda had substantial po liti cal clout, appointed him in June 1908, providing a monthly stipend of twenty yen for his salary and ten yen for offi ce supplies. Th rough Takeda’s urging, the Sōtōshū became serious about its missionary work in Korea. Takeda kept in frequent contact with the Sōtō headquarters regarding the religious situation in Korea, submitting a series of reports to the Sōtō secretaries Oda Setsugan (1843–
1916) and Hirotsu Sessan (1862– 1932).

A letter from the Sōtōshū dated August 18 of that year ordered Takeda to visit the central offi ce and report on the conditions of Korean religions: “Please report personally by August 28, since a meeting is necessary for our policy on propagation in Korea.” Takeda wrote back requesting a two- month extension, saying that he needed to resolve several crucial matters (explained later) relating to his work with Korean Buddhism. His request was accepted. Upon his return to Japan that October, Takeda submitted a paper titled A Report on Buddhism (Bukkyōjō no hōkokusho), which comprises two sections: “Th e Situation of the Sōtō Mission to Settlers in Korea” (Iryūmin ni taisuru fukyō jōtai) and “Th e Revitalization of Korean Buddhism” (Kankoku Bukkyō no saikō), followed by copies of his petition to the Korean imperial government and supplementary documents.

Th is paper, which has not been reviewed in published histories on Takeda, sheds new light on Takeda’s vision for both Korean Buddhism and the Sōtō missionary eff ort. Th e vision laid out in these documents calls into question the idea that Takeda was mainly a po liti cal agent. Moreover, the writings do not provide any concrete sign that he desired to have the Sōtōshū take over the Wfnjong. Equally important, the paper also contains previously unknown facts about several key events relating to the Wfnjong, facts which should complexify our interpretation of the attempted alliance of late 1910.

The Stsh’S Mission In Korea

In this section of A Report on Buddhism, Takeda is critical of the indiff erence and ill preparedness of the Sōtōshū in its missionary work in Korea.

He argues that there are two major reasons for the lack of success of the Sōtō missions, especially of missions to Japa nese immigrants. First, Sōtō

administrators (his readers) do not take foreign missionary work seriously. Takeda lashes out, Since Taiwan became a part of our nation, [the Sōtōshū] has invested fi fty thousand yen [for propagation], while it invests less than fi ve thousand in Korea. . . . When Koreans look at Japa nese monks, they defi nitely call them “Honganji priests.” In addition, in a number of Chinese magazines, whenever Japa nese Buddhism is reported, it is undoubtedly about the Honganji. [People] do not know that there exists a dharma king [kanchō] without peerage like the one in the Sōtōshū. Such a pity! It is because those in the order have lost the fundamental meaning of propagation and lack the spirit of practicing compassion, eliminating suff ering, and providing [spiritual] medicine to people.

Takeda’s expression of frustration and his sense of urgency is a continuation of his feeling, before he became the supervisor of missionary work, that the Sōtōshū had been making a dismal eff ort in Korea. Th eir lack of eff ectiveness was one reason he asked to become supervisor. Th is paragraph also shows that Takeda, as a Sōtō monk, did wish to see the Sōtōshū advance in Korea. Th us, despite Takeda’s pre sen ta tion of himself as nonsectarian to the resident- general and to the Wfnjong, he nonetheless had sectarian intentions.

Th e second major reason that the Sōtō missions were failing, writes Takeda, is that Sōtō missionaries do not have the social and po liti cal capabilities to attract new members. He points to the qualifi cations of a missionary ( fukyōshi): “In Japan, where it is peaceful, priests already possess a certain sociable capacity; however, it is entirely diff erent in foreign lands.” Th erefore, he argues, the Sōtō headquarters should send missionaries who are highly sociable, who are willing to actively create relationships rather than passively wait for people to come to them. He also asks that the Sōtōshū send monks who have po liti cal authority (or infl uence) (chiho). Because the low status of Korean monks is the

primary diffi culty in revitalizing Korean Buddhism, sending missionaries to Korea who are not supported by the Sōtō headquarters, and who therefore do not possess po liti cal infl uence, undermines the Sōtō program, he argues. He concludes that his original request to become supervisor of the Sōtō missionaries in Korea is justifi ed because it would be impossible to accomplish missionary work with a supervisor who lacked po liti cal infl uence and sociability.

At this point in the report, Takeda puts forth two conditions to ensure the Sōtōshū’s success in Korea. First, “[t]he Sōtōshū should establish a branch temple in Seoul and new temples around the country, and expand its infl uence while staying in compliance with colonial policies.” Th is head branch temple in Seoul should be controlled by the Sōtō headquarters in Japan and would supervise newly established branch temples in Korea. Takeda recommends setting up a timeline for fi nancing new temples as well as applying the head- and- branch system of Japan to the head branch temple and the new branch temples in Korea. Th e second condition was more important, and Takeda wrote at length on it. Takeda suggests, “Th e head branch temple of the Sōtōshū in Seoul should exert itself to protect Korean monks and temples, assist propagation to Koreans, and do its best, as a duty, to revitalize Silla and Koryf Buddhism in Korea.” Interestingly, even though Takeda was already in conversation with Yi Hoegwang about possible support from the Sōtōshū, his report to the headquarters makes no mention of it. Th is is another piece of evidence, along with Takeda’s statement that Korean Buddhism should be revitalized, that Takeda, at the time of this paper, did not envision Korean Buddhism or the Wfnjong being incorporated into or controlled by the Sōtōshū. At this point, he had in mind that the Sōtōshū should provide institutional support to the Wfnjong to set up a modern institution on par with the Sōtōshū.

Th e Sōtō headquarters heeded Takeda’s advice in part by sending one of its administrators to Korea. In a letter dated September 10, 1909, the head of the Education Department of the Sōtōshū wrote, “Tanaka Dōen, the abbot of Ryūon- ji in Onsen County, Ehime Prefecture, will

be nominated as a missionary in Korea and be ordered to reside in Yongsan, Seoul. He is an experienced propagator and used to assume several important positions at the Sōtō headquarters.” A year later, following annexation, it increased the missionary bud get; dispatched the infl uential priest Kitano Genpō (1842– 1933) to Korea; established a branch temple, Zuiryū- ji in Yongsan, Seoul; began building smaller temples and preaching offi ces throughout Korea; and promised to assist the Wfnjong.

Initiating And Defending The Wfnjong

Although Takeda titles this second section of his report to the sect “Th e Revitalization of Korean Buddhism,” it does not actually set out a program for the re nais sance of Korean Buddhism (rather, he puts forward these ideas in supplementary documents). Instead, Takeda goes into detail regarding a number of events, explaining his indispensable role in founding the Wfnjong, setting up the Wfnjong’s central religious offi ce, and resolving the confl ict surrounding the Wfnhgng temple in 1908. Perhaps what he means by his title, then, is that his involvement in these events had brought about a degree of revitalization for Korean Buddhism. In order to provide a comprehensive rendering of these key events, this section will supplement Takeda’s version with other primary sources. It will also provide evidence that disrupts the simple characterization of the 1910 attempted alliance as an instance of the opportunistic, pro- Japanese Yi Hoegwang collaborating with the imperialist Takeda to sell the Wfnjong to the Sōtōshū. As will become clear, a number of events forced Yi to turn to the Sōtōshū and become dependent on Takeda, who, in the estimation of Yi and the Wfnjong, had similar ideas for revitalizing Korean Buddhism and enough po liti cal capital to actualize them.

Who Coined The Term Wfnjong?

Takeda writes in “Th e Revitalization of Korean Buddhism” that on March 15, 1907, he asked the vice president of the Ilchinhoe, Hong Kgngsfp (1850– 1923), to establish the “Great Korean Wfnjong Research

Society” (Taehan Wfnjong yfn’guhoe) and added that he, Takeda, would not directly administer it. What is striking about Takeda’s request is that it implies that he, a Japa nese priest, may have been the fi rst person to initiate the idea of an administrative institution for Korean Buddhism under the name Wfnjong. Takeda’s meeting with Hong had occurred roughly three months after he had arrived in Korea with Uchida and a week after he had written a letter to Yi Yonggu about revitalizing Korean Buddhism. Most surprisingly, Takeda’s suggestion occurred one year before the Wfnjong itself even existed. If the idea for his research society was the product of Takeda’s letters with Yi Yonggu and his connection with Hong, then it is highly possible that Takeda was the fi rst to envision this body and coin the term Wfnjong, both of which scholars have attributed to Korean Buddhists themselves as evidence of a fi rst, in de pen dent eff ort to centralize and unify Korean Buddhism. However, if it is true that Takeda created the term, it reveals that he was integral in envisioning this fi rst, modern Korean Buddhist institution.

Among scholars, the origin of the term of Wfnjong has been debated for some time. Th ere are three schools of thought. Th e fi rst is propagated by Korean historian Yi Ngnghwa, who asserts that the term derived from the fact that monks from all the temples agreed to establish a central Buddhist institution in the spirit of “consummate interfusion and nonobstruction,” which is captured in the phrase wfnyung muae, and that the term Wfnjong did not come from scriptures. In the second, colonialist historian Takahashi Tōru agrees with Yi Ngnghwa’s assertion that Wfnjong is derived from the phrase, but Takahashi says that he heard directly from Yi Hoegwang that wfnyung muae has a scriptural basis. Th at phrase is derived from the teaching that the practices of Sfn and Kyo, as taught in the Sfn text Chonggyfngnok (Zong Jing Lu) written by Yongming Yanshou (904– 975), are mutually entwined with each other. Kwfn Sangno (1879– 1965), who participated in the Wfnjong

movement, reasoned that it was named because Korean monastics “harmoniously practice” (wfnsu) “Son, sutra study, chanting and even tantric teachings.” Korean historians Kim Yfngt’ae and Yi Hosfng disagree.

Th ey believe that the term Wfnjong was infl uenced by Japa nese Buddhism and was not thought out carefully by anyone, a thought more in line with Yi Ngnghwa’s assertion.

In fact, Yi Hoegwang defi ned the term variably to diff erent people and in diff erent circumstances. In a letter to Takeda, in May 1908, Yi uses Sfn-Kyo Buddhism instead of Wfnjong.

Yet, when asked about it by a Jōdoshū reporter in October 1910 in Japan, Yi identifi ed the Wfnjong as Sfn, dropping the Kyo, because at the time Yi was in the pro cess of allying with the Zen- based Sōtōshū. In another case, when asked about Korean Buddhism by the Nichirenshū journal reporter Shimada Tōsui in Seoul in November 1910, a month after the Sōtō- Wfnjong deal, Yi replies that Korean Buddhism could not be called Imjejong (Jp.

Rinzaishū) because some practice nenbutsu, some practice mantra (chinfn or shingon in Japa nese), and some practice Zen. Here, he overturns the earlier claim he made while in Japan and explains that he had established the Wfnjong in the spirit of consummate enlightenment, consummate fullness, consummate capacities, and consummate fulfi llment
(wfndon wfnman wfn’gu wfnjok). Th is time, he had in mind the Imjejong movement, which was about to emerge in opposition to his 1910 deal with the Sōtōshū. Yi contended that the Imjejong could not claim to be the true Korean Buddhism, since Korean Buddhism is not just Sfn but Sfn, study, mantra, and nenbutsu.

Yi Hoegwang’s diverse defi nitions have at least one thing in common:
the phrase “consummate” (wfn) had been used since the inception of the Wfnjong. In his prospectus Th e Prospect for Setting up the Religious Offi ce

of Korean Buddhism, published in the newspapers on March 17, 1908, Yi uses the term wfnman (complete fullness). Despite using wfn across many situations, Yi nonetheless defi nes Wfnjong fl exibly. By 1910, there were many players on the scene: the Jōdoshū, Nichirenshū, Honganji- ha and Ōtani- ha, Rinzaishū, and Sōtōshū. Yi Hoegwang needed to deal strategically with these diff erent sects by sometimes giving inclusive and sometimes less inclusive defi nitions of Wfnjong. No wonder Yi Ngnghwa and Takahashi have two diff erent understandings about the meaning of Wfnjong.

Th e question remains however as to who originally came up with the title Wfnjong. Certainly, the term Wfnjong was well known by the time Yi convened fi fty- two monks in March 1910. Yet, just two years earlier, Yi did not use the term Wfnjong in his prospectus published in newspapers, even when the topic was on the “prospect for a Buddhist central religious offi ce,” for which he used the term Pulgyo Chongmuguk.

Nor did he in a letter of recommendation he wrote for Takeda two months later, in May 1908. Th e fi rst public appearance of the term in extant sources is in the fi rst petition, discussed earlier, to the Korean imperial government. Th is letter was sent after the Wfnjong’s meeting at the Pohyfn temple in July 1908, which Takeda carefully guided behind the scenes by providing detailed instructions to Yi. Based on Takeda’s heavy infl uence on the establishment of the Wfnjong, scholar Yi Hos-fng hypothesizes that “either Takeda might have provided the term Wfnjong, or the term might have derived from his discourse on the spirit of Wfnjong (Wfnjong chugi).” Th e textual evidence suggests that Takeda provided the term, if one takes Takeda’s words in “Revitalization” at face value. If, by early March 1907, Takeda had already used the term in proposing the formation of the Great Korean Wfnjong Research Society, then he had already formulated the meaning of it before Yi had. In his petition of September 20, 1908, to the Home Ministry of the

Korean government, Takeda clarifi es the meaning of the term Wfnjong:
“Although there had originally been tenets of roughly ten diff erent sects, all other sects were disestablished except for two, Sfn and Kyo. Since these two are perfectly interfused [wfnyung], two years ago the name Wfnjong was set up.” “Two years ago” would have meant March 1907, when he suggested that the Wfnjong Research Society be established.

One can conclude, then, that Takeda was the fi rst to offi cially use the term Wfnjong.

Although Takeda came up with the term and Yi Younggu was part of the formulation of this term, once it was shared among Korean monks, they, especially Yi Hoegwang, redefi ned the term and origin of Wfnjong as they preferred and according to circumstances.

Effort To Secure Wfnhgng Temple

Th is section of “Revitalization” reveals another crucial event that has not been explained by Korean and Japa nese scholars. If Yi Hoegwang had originally intended to establish an in de pen dent, central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong at the same time as distancing himself from the Jōdoshū, why did he then turn to the Sōtōshū? Why did Yi and fi fty- two abbots send a letter to the Sōtōshū, asking them to forward it on to the residentgeneral? Why did Yi and the other monks visit the Sōtōshū in Japan right after the establishment of the Wfnjong and, a little bit later, invite Takeda to be the advisor to their newly established institution?

Takeda goes on in “Revitalization” to discuss, at length, how he came to be an “indispensible” part of the Wfnjong’s eff orts to gain legitimacy. Th e Wfnjong’s outreach to the Sōtōshū can be seen partly as the result of the confl ict surrounding Wfnhgng temple and the Jōdoshū’s per sistent interference with the establishment of the Wfnjong. As mentioned in the previous chapter, the Wfnhgng temple was established in 1902 as

a response by the Korean imperial court to the increasing encroachment of the Jōdoshū on Korean temples. It was also used to house the Bureau of Temple Administration. Th e temple came to be administered by Yi Kgnt’aek (1865– 1919), a military offi cer who had advanced to high offi cial positions in the 1890s with the modern transformation of the late Chosfn dynasty. Although he is remembered in historiographies as a traitor to the Korean nation due to his role in the 1905 protectorate treaty between Japan and Korea, he was originally anti- Japanese and pro- Russian.

As to how Yi Kgnt’aek and the temple came to be so important, one day in 1902, Yi happened to discover an embroidered band with a bloodstain at a local shop run by a Japa nese merchant. Th e band was thought to be the late Queen Min’s. Yi Kgnt’aek seized this opportunity to further his po liti cal position. Along with Kwfn Chongsfk, who later became responsible for the Bureau of Temple Administration, Yi Kgnt’aek purchased the band for sixty thousand wfn and enshrined it at the temple. Th e enshrinement made the king cherish the temple, which was originally named Sohgng. Th e king had the temple renamed Wfnhgng and designated it as an imperial temple. Under the pretext of praying for the court and the long life of the Korean emperor, Yi and his brothers
(Yi Kgnho [1860– 1923], Yi Kgnyong [1860– 1923], and Yi Kgnsang [1874–
1920]), as well as Kwfn, the supervisor of the bureau, enjoyed King Kojong’s exceptional support. As a result, Yi Kgnt’aek was able to take the Wfnhgng temple and Kwfn was able to take the bureau, and both, as close allies, enjoyed great wealth, fame, and po liti cal infl uence. For a brief period, they administered the temple in such a way that it was practically at their disposal, receiving ten thousand ryang a year for

maintenance of the temple and as a salary from King Kojong. However, when Korea became a protectorate of Japan in 1905, the temple lost its executive function and was placed under the control of the Home Ministry, although the Department of the Royal House hold continued to exert infl uence over the temple. Th is caused the confl icts between the two departments.

In March 1908, without receiving offi cial permission from the Department of the Royal House hold, Yi Hoegwang and the founding monks took over and established the Wfnjong’s headquarters there. Although the Wfnjong succeeded in fending off the Jōdo missionary Inoue, they had to face a more formidable obstacle. Despite all these changes, Yi Kgnt’aek and Yi Kgnho, his older brother, would not relinquish their privileges at the complex. At the time, Yi Kgnho was holding the temple deed and thus considered the temple his. He threatened to take back the property by force. Faced with “Yi Kgnt’aek [and Yi Kgnho]’s bad move,” as Takeda put it, Yi Hoegwang sought Yi Yonggu’s po liti cal infl uence. Yi Yonggu in turn thought Takeda would be the best person to resolve the matter, most likely not because Takeda was a Sōtō priest, in par tic u lar, but because Takeda was the only Japa nese Buddhist with enough po liti cal capital to deal with Korean offi cials, capital that the Wfnjong leaders lacked. However, Takeda was in Japan at the time, so Yi Yonggu consulted Uchida, instead. Uchida met Yi Hoegwang in person and, in consultation with Yi Yonggu and the minister of Home Aff airs, Song Pyfngjun, summoned Takeda from Japan.

Uchida asked Takeda to help the Wfnjong by becoming its advisor.

Part of the reason, then, that the Wfnjong sent a petition to the Sōtōshū and begged it to infl uence the Resident- General’s Offi ce could have been that Yi Kgnt’aek and Yi Kgnho were threatening to undo all the work that the Wfnjong had done to set up the central religious offi ce in the temple complex. Because Yi Kgnt’aek and Yi Kgnho were so well connected to the government, Yi Hoegwang desperately needed institutional backing. He saw that the Sōtōshū was highly infl uential, and he trusted Yi Yonggu’s recommendation to seek its help.

Takeda returned to Korea in 1908 and worked closely with Yi Hoegwang, sending petitions in July to the government for approval of the Wfnjong and in September for establishing the Wfnhgng temple as its central religious offi ce. In the meantime, Yi Kgnho again laid claim to the property through legal action. Th e Taehan maeil sinbo infl amed the issue by, on September 8, reporting that the Myfngjin School in the temple complex would be soon closed due to opposition from all the monks. Two days later, Yi Hoegwang wrote editorials in newspapers denying the rumor and saying that the matter had been instigated by an offi cial (meaning Yi Kgnho and Yi Kgnt’aek) who claimed own ership of the property. To clear up doubts about the fate of Myfngjin School, Yi confi rmed that the central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong was newly established and that the education for monks and the revitalization of Buddhism have “met a new, bright light,” indicating that the work of the Myfngjin School would carry on in eff ect, if not in name.

In early October, Yi Kgnho took more drastic mea sures to prevent the Wfnjong from settling in at the temple. He collaborated with the proxy of the Jōdo head priest, Horio Kanmu (1827– 1921), and the former head abbot of Wfnhgng temple, Kim Wfrhae, who was also a Jōdo member. He used his po liti cal connections with the Department of the Royal House hold, which was in charge of the temple at the time. Yi Kgnho was willing to sell the temple. Horio expressed his intention to purchase the entire complex to make it the headquarters of the Jōdoshū in Korea and also of Korean Buddhism. He requested that the Department of the Royal House hold disestablish the temporary central religious offi ce set up by Yi Hoegwang and order the Wfnjong to vacate the temple.

Deeply concerned, Yi Hoegwang petitioned the Home Ministry. Th e ministry wrote back assuring Yi that “the Wfnhgng temple discussed in

[your] petition will be safe and preserved.” To Yi Hoegwang’s frustration, however, Yi Kgnho ignored the clarifi cation and threatened the Wfnjong again, asserting that the Home Ministry had no business in the matter since the temple was not under its jurisdiction. Th e critical nature of the situation surrounding the Wfnhgng temple is refl ected in Yi’s letter to Takeda in November:
Yi Kgnho visited the central offi ce [at the Wfnhgng temple] to say that we should rent the Hgng’in School and have our offi ce move there. Resident monks [at the offi ce] were forcefully evicted and, for this reason, we petitioned the Home Ministry, complained to the police department, and had evicted student monks return to the Wfnhgng temple. However, these actions have not resolved the dispute. Th erefore, it is extremely urgent [for you] to send a petition to the Home Minister and to the departmental head of Local Offi ces to receive permission speedily.

Th e nature of this matter spurred Takeda to confront the Jōdoshū and Yi Kgnho (and Yi Kgnt’aek) directly and thus postpone his report and trip to the headquarters of the Sōtōshū, as mentioned earlier. To stop Yi Kgnt’aek and Horio, Takeda exercised his po liti cal connections and succeeded in getting the government to switch the offi ce responsible for the Wfnhgng temple from the Department of the Royal House hold to the Home Ministry, where his close associate Song Pyfngjun worked as minister. In the meantime, Takeda, as Yi Hoegwang requested, distributed petitions for a swift approval of the temporary central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong to the Home Ministry and the Resident- General’s Offi ce in the hopes of putting the issue to rest.

Concerned that these eff orts would not accomplish what was needed, Takeda used the media to drum up public support. On a visit to the headquarters of the Sōtōshū in Japan on October 11, Takeda managed to get an editorial published in the Yorozu chōhō to deal a fi nal blow to Yi Kgnho and Horio. It appeared in the Korean telegraph section and was titled “Th e Establishment of the Central Religious Offi ce” [of Korean Buddhism]:
With the purpose of unifying and promoting Korean Buddhism, Korean monks hired a Japa nese priest as their advisor and established a set of regula-

tions relating to the establishment of a central religious offi ce [honzan]. In addition, they submitted a petition to the Home Ministry for approval and it is expected that the Ministry will approve it soon. If approved, it means that
[Korean] monks’ human rights will be recognized and [the freedom of] propagation will be granted. Th is development will usher in a new epoch in the Buddhism of this country.

After a concerted eff ort to block Horio and Yi Kgnho from undoing the work of Yi Hoegwang, the Wfnjong monks, and himself, Takeda obtained several promises from the Home Ministry of the Korean government. It promised that it would never grant any other governmental offi ces administrative authority over the Wfnhgng temple; that it would not acquiesce to the Resident- General’s Offi ce if the latter tried to alter policies; and that, in case even the Resident- General’s Offi ce meddled, the Home Ministry, probably through Song Pyfngjun, would fi ght back. Th e ministry’s support notwithstanding, Yi Kgnho would not give up his claim on the temple and brought the case to court. To Takeda’s disappointment, the court recognized Yi Kgnho’s own ership, but, to Takeda’s relief, it permitted the Wfnjong to occupy the temple as a tenant.

Assured use of the complex, a number of Korean monks, including Han Yong’un (1879– 1944), whom historiographies promote as the personifi cation of Korean nationalism, sent a letter of thanks to Takeda.

Th is case shows why the Wfnjong turned to somebody like Takeda: as Vladimir Tikhonov points out, monks joined forces with Japa nese priests to preserve temple properties from “notoriously corrupt” offi –
cials. By proving to the Sōtō headquarters that his eff orts on behalf of the Wfnjong were indispensable, Takeda concludes in “Revitalization” that “it is no exaggeration to say that [the future of] Korean Buddhism lies in my hands.”
Takeda’s rendering provides a diff erent explanation of the same events that historiography has reinterpreted in order to create a more nationalistic

narrative. Takeda’s version explains why the Wfnjong sought his support and agreed to bring him on as an advisor. Th is sequence also shows why, if Yi Hoegwang had intended to establish an in de pen dent central religious offi ce for the Wfnjong while distancing himself from the Jōdoshū, he turned to the Sōtōshū for protection of temple property.

Finally, the backdrop explains why Wfnjong representatives visited the Sōtōshū in Japan in May 1908, asking the Sōtōshū to forward a petition on behalf of the Wfnjong to the resident- general. Th erefore, in considering Yi and Takeda’s relationship, it behooves one to pay attention to the complex background from which Yi sought Takeda’s po liti cal power.

Th anks to his po liti cal and religious capital, strengthened by his linguistic competence in written Chinese, Takeda perceived himself as, in Bourdieu’s words, “the holder of the monopoly of legitimate symbolic violence,” one who could impose, albeit in a limited way, his own vision for Korean Buddhism on the Korean monks and on the Japa nese and Korean authorities. Th us, the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū were brought closer together through Takeda’s po liti cal infl uence, infl uence that Yi and the Wfnjong did not possess.

Conclusion

It is clear that Takeda saw a connection between his role as the Wfnjong’s advisor and as supervisor of Sōtōshū missionary work in Korea.

But how can that connection be characterized? Takeda worked hard to appear to the Wfnjong as in de pen dent from the Sōtōshū, for he was aware that any sectarianism on his part would trigger worries that the Sōtōshū had pretensions to overtake the Wfnjong. But Takeda was not, in fact, entirely in de pen dent: his report to the Sōtōshū’s headquarters reveals his hopes for the Sōtōshū and his antipathy for the Jōdoshū.

Nevertheless, it would be hasty to conclude, as many scholars have done, that Takeda envisioned the Sōtōshū fully incorporating the Wfnjong under its authority all along. In his writings, it is hard to say that Takeda explicitly advocated this, and it should be taken into consideration that Takeda generally wrote forcefully and directly when addressing the Sōtōshū. His program establishing the Wfnjong was to a great

extent intent on elevating the status of Korean monks and creating an institution on par with those in Japan, and these were useful goals in themselves regardless of his ulterior motives.

Takeda presents himself as indispensable to achieving the aims of the Sōtōshū abroad, the Wfnjong, and all Korean Buddhism. Th us, Takeda was complex: he had personal aspirations to fame and heroism as seen in his work for Japan’s annexation of Korea; he had Pan- Asianist and PanBuddhist visions, though these may seem strategic and forms of rationalization to our present day thinking; and he positioned himself as either in de pen dent or sectarian depending on his audience. It is hard to discern where one motive begins and another ends, because so many of his eff orts overlapped. As is true of other Japa nese Buddhist missionaries, to categorize Takeda only as an imperialist is to ignore the other dimensions on which he acted, especially in his role as a Buddhist.

For more than seventy years, from 1877 to 1945, Japa nese sects worked with Korean Buddhists at many levels. However, despite the great range of activities on both sides, the image of one event in 1910 has endured as the single characterization of this long and complex relationship. Th e Sōtōshū’s attempted alliance with the Wfnjong is a moment in modern Japa nese and Korean Buddhism’s history that has gone down in infamy.

Th e Japa nese Buddhist priests involved have been characterized as colonialists and imperialists trying to conquer Korean Buddhism on behalf of their colonial government while the Korean monks orchestrating the initiative have been cast as victims, traitors, collaborators, and sellers of Korean Buddhism. Th ose Korean Buddhists who resisted the attempted alliance are considered nationalist heroes. Th e bitterness of Korean Buddhists and even of contemporary scholars over this event is in great part due to the fact that the alliance took place fewer than 45 days after Japan’s annexation of Korea. For this reason, scholarship on this topic has singled out this event as the culmination of the colonial schemes of Japanese Buddhism in Korea, dubbing it a religious annexation of Korea following a po liti cal one. Further reinforced by post- colonial Korea’s nationalist historiography, the narratives of this incident have been sweeping, unquestioned, emotional, and thus monolithic, at the expense of including complex and contradictory stories surrounding this event.

Based on overlooked primary materials, this chapter examines three important factors, among others, that crack the conventional narrative surrounding the alliance movement. First, the alliance was not a religious

annexation but the result of Yi’s calculated plot to make use of Takeda and the Sōtōshū to gain the state’s recognition of the Wfnjong. Second, behind this alliance deal was a Korean monk named Kim Yfnggi, who played a crucial role as a mediator and informer between the two sects and between Takeda and Yi. Th ird, Takeda’s vision for Korean Buddhism was not congruent with his own sect’s: the Sōtō administrators were quite ambivalent, passive, and reluctant to ally with Korean Buddhism. Th ese fi ndings do not alter the facts of the history of this event, but they do begin to complicate bipolar interpretations of it. Overcoming a binary interpretation thus brings to light the agency of Korean Buddhists in this period.

Th E Indiff Erence Of The Residents- General

Th e idea of an alliance between the Sōtōshū and the Wfnjong had its roots in the failure of the Wfnjong to receive approval for legal standing through its own petitions. Although Takeda had lobbied on behalf of the Wfnjong for two years, his weight alone did not seem to move the situation along. Th e Resident- General’s Offi ce and the Korean government neither disapproved nor approved Takeda and Yi’s repeated petitions and lobbies: they were simply unresponsive. Takeda’s frustration with Resident- General Itō’s administration of religious matters in general can be gleaned from an essay published in the journal Kokuryū.

Takeda made cutting statements about Itō’s discriminatory treatment of Korean and Japa nese religions versus his permissiveness toward Christianity. He wrote, “Have you no tears and no blood? Alas, your Excellency Itō!” He lamented, “Due to too much control, the Japa nese Buddhist missionaries are suff ering, while due to total indiff erence, the Sich’fn’gyo members are suff ering. Only Christian missionaries are outside the authority of Itō and are able to exercise their abilities.” Th e “control” Takeda wrote about is in reference to the 1906 Regulations on the Propagation of Religion, which primarily targeted Japa nese Buddhism. Takeda was not alone in perceiving that Itō gave preferential treatment to Christianity: National Diet member Ōtake Kan’ichi (1860– 1944) chastised Itō for allowing Christianity’s infl uence on the education of Koreans to

grow. Itō strove to maintain good relations with Christianity partly to not tarnish Japan’s image in the eyes of the international community.

He provided an annual subsidy of 10,000 yen to the Korean YMCA, a gift that was continued by Governor- General Terauchi Masatake until 1911. Somebody like Takeda, who despised Christianity, considered it a betrayal to the cause of Japan and Japa nese Buddhism.

Takeda was upset by the government’s indiff erence to the Wfnjong petitions as well. After Itō resigned, in early 1909, Takeda sent two petitions on April 15 and August 6, 1909, to the new resident- general, Sone, asking for swift approval for the Wfnjong and the Wfnjong’s central religious offi ce. In his fi rst letter, Takeda wrote, “Due to the lack of administrative control over monks [in Korean Buddhism], there are some who even turn to the enemy [namely, the anti- Japanese army]. Th erefore, please have a central religious offi ce [of the Wfnjong] established and thereby set up a foundation for Korean Buddhism.” Th is, too, was to no avail. Sone was just as “indiff erent” to Buddhism as Itō had been.

In appreciation for Takeda’s steadfast eff orts, Yi Hoegwang, the Wfnjong, and lay Buddhists invited him to a special dinner. Takeda respectfully declined and, bemoaning the stalemate on getting the central offi ce approved, wrote, “How can I dare to receive the off erings of faithful parishioners. . . . Please tell them, I will never receive any donations until the central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong has been approved.”
His determination and confi dence notwithstanding, Takeda never got that dinner.

Life Of Yi Hoegwang

Before examining the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance, it is important to briefl y cover Yi Hoegwang’s life and to contextualize his activities from 1908 on. Yi was best known for his futile eff orts to ally Korean Buddhism with Japa nese Buddhist sects in 1910, 1920, and 1926. Stigmatized as the

Figure 6.1: Yi Hoegwang in the 1910s. Source: Kim Kwangsik, ed., Han’guk Pulgyo 100 nyfn.

“Yi Wanyong of Buddhism,” Yi Hoegwang has been depicted in historiographies as “an extremely pro- Japanese monk.” It is not certain that Yi Hoegwang deserves this explicit vilifi cation.

Yi Hoegwang (1862– 1933) was born in Yangyang in Kangwfn Province. He was ordained at the age of twenty- two under the guidance of Poun Kgngyfp at the Sinhgng temple in Kangwfn Province in 1881.

After monastic training and retreats at diff erent monasteries, he emerged as a great scholarly teacher (taegangbaek) around whom young monks from Yangsf (the Hwanghae and Py’fngan provinces) and Samnam (the Ch’ungch’fng, Kyfngsang, and Chflla provinces) fl ocked to study.

In 1907, he replaced Yi Podam as the head of the Buddhist Research Society and the Myfngjin School. He became leader of the Wfnjong in 1908. Th e abortive alliance with the Sōtōshū in 1910 earned him the

shameful title in history of “selling out Korean Buddhism and betraying the found er of Korean Buddhism” (hwanbuyfkcho). Still, even after this event, Yi’s infl uence did not diminish. At a meeting in July 1912, the abbots of head temples— including those who sided with the Imjejong, a sect that opposed the Wfnjong— thanked Yi for his tireless work as the head monk of the Wfnjong and presented him with a silver tea set.

Th at same year, he was elected as the leader of the Meeting Offi ce of the Abbots of the Th irty Head Temples (Samsip ponsan chuji hoegi; discussed in Chapter 7). He also assumed the abbotship of the Haein temple for four consecutive terms, from 1911 to 1924. However, his po liti cal infl uence on Korean Buddhism waned as Kang Taeryfn, who was once Yi’s underling, rose to prominence and outstripped Yi’s po liti cal standing.

In early 1920, claiming that Korean Buddhism was slow to modernize and with propagation eff orts failing, Yi launched another alliance eff ort, this time with the Myōshin- ji branch of the Rinzaishū, in collaboration with the Rinzai missionary Gotō Tangan and the abbots of eight head temples in the two Kyfngsang provinces. In this second attempt, Yi sought support from the Japa nese home government, bypassing the colonial government. Yi’s plan was to change the title “Sfn-Kyo Sect” to the
“Chosfn Imjejong,” rearrange temple properties, and establish a great head temple in central Seoul. He also shared his intentions with Governor- General Saitō Makoto (1858– 1936), who happened to be in Japan at the time that Yi was visiting. With the support of the eight head temples, Yi purchased a property in central Seoul as a possible site for the new main head temple. However, the Chūgai nippō revealed Yi’s preparations for the deal, and soon Yi was condemned for attempting to sell Korean Buddhism to the Japa nese, again. He not only antagonized Korean monks but also riled the colonial government, which considered

Yi’s plan to be in violation of the 1911 Temple Ordinance (discussed in chapter 7). Yi aborted the deal. His reputation was permanently damaged, ending his infl uence on Korean Buddhism. He went on to become a minor player in the Chosfn Buddhist Association (Chōsen Bukkyōdan),
established by Japa nese lay Buddhists in 1920. But in the same year, he had to resign his post as the abbot of the Haein temple, which he had enjoyed for almost fi fteen years, due to mismanagement of the temple’s property.

In 1926, Yi tried a third time to establish a central governing body for Korean Buddhism. He collaborated with a number of other monks to disestablish the current Korean Buddhist institution and establish a great head temple more autonomous than the Kakhwang temple (see map on page xv), which was simply functioning as a meeting offi ce. Th ey approached Japa nese politicians in Korea to submit a petition to the Japanese cabinet in Japan, but the plans went nowhere. Th roughout the colonial period, Yi embraced colonial rule, participating in all colonial policies on revering the emperor and on Japan and Korea as one body
(Nissen ittai). Now, with his clout largely consumed, he kept a low profi le and died rather friendless on January 3, 1933, at the age of seventy- one.

Although Yi has been vilifi ed for his collaborations with Japa nese Buddhists and the colonial government, one should distinguish, as historian Ha Chiyfn points out, his activities up until 1912 from his programs in the 1920s. Before 1912, Yi was a central fi gure in the fi rst modern institution of Korean Buddhism, building the fi rst propagation temple in the center of Seoul, publishing the fi rst Buddhist journal
(Wfnjong), and orienting Korean monks to the importance of education and propagation.

Th ough most scholars of Korean Buddhism have depicted Yi as unquestionably a traitor, it seems some of his colleagues and other Korean

nationalists saw him as a potential leader for fi ghting against Japa nese colonialism. In the aftermath of the March First Movement, in 1919, An Ch’angho (1878– 1938), one of the founding members of the Provisional Government of the Republic of Korea (in exile in Shanghai), secretly sent a letter through a Korean monk to implore Yi to join his cause for Korea’s in de pen dence from Japa nese rule. Yi was hesitant and delayed his decision. Meanwhile, Japa nese police caught wind of the plan and arrested a number of Korean monks for investigation. Th is case attests to the fact that Yi was a much more complicated person than one might think, the dimensions of which become clear if one looks into his activities before 1912. Th is chapter will show that Yi was not just a passive victim in the 1910 alliance who was duped into handing Korean Buddhism over to the Japa nese or who sought personal profi t from such a sale. Neither was Yi about to give up the Wfnjong’s autonomy by having it merge into the Sōtōshū. Rather, Yi had his own vision for an in de pendent institution that had its own identity, and he sought to appropriate what ever resources Japa nese Buddhists had in order to make that happen. An in- depth look at Yi’s work on the 1910 alliance in this book also indicates that his eff orts in the 1920s deserve new interpretation.

Th E Alliance

To understand the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance of October 6, 1910, one needs to pay attention to an incident that reveals Yi and the Wfnjong’s perception of their own government. On May 3, 1909, they gathered at the Wfnhgng temple and discussed their frustration with the Korean government. A Japa nese police offi cer, spying on the meeting, reported the content of the discussion to the resident- general. Th e offi cer wrote that Yi and the Wfnjong monks said:
In the last two de cades, Japan has made Buddhism a state religion, respected priests’ teachings, and consequently achieved a rich nation and strong army
[Puguk kangbyfng or Jp. fukoku kyōhei]. Our Korea is just the opposite and it is

without religion. Its antagonism toward the Buddhist monks for fi ve hundred years has been so strong that Korea now lacks unity among the people and has resulted in the current misfortunes of the country. Concerning the contributions that Korean monks had made for the sake of the country, it was Master Tosfn [827– 898] who set the foundation [of a new dynasty] by helping King T’aejo Wanggfn (r. 918– 943), found er of the Koryf dynasty, choose Kaesfng as the capital city of the country 1,018 years ago. In addition, 518 years ago, when King T’aejo established the new dynasty of Chosfn in Seoul, Master Muhak [1327– 1405] formed the foundation of the country, thanks to which it has been able to survive up to now. Th e consummation of the foundation of Korea is indebted to monks. Th erefore, like Japan, our country should unify religions under Buddhism to be like Japan. Hence, we are resolved to acquire approval for propagation of our religion [the Wfnjong] and are discussing the specifi c methods for the movement.

Although this was a report by an outsider, its message accurately summarized the hard feelings that Korean monks had toward their own government, as well as the envy they had of Japan and Japa nese Buddhism.

Th ey believed that the fortunes of their country had been closely related to the well- being of Buddhism throughout Korea’s history. In other words, they felt that Korea could not become a strong, modern nation like Japan unless Korean Buddhism was restored and elevated. Th is belief can be understood, borrowing Kenneth Wells’s term, as an incipient “ethical nationalism,” one of competing nationalisms emerging in Korea during the time and throughout the colonial period. Like the Christian ethicospiritual nationalism prevalent among late nineteenth- century Christian leaders such as Sf Chaep’il (1866– 1951) and Yun Ch’iho, Buddhist leaders also prioritized the revitalization of Buddhist religious faith in Korea. Th e diff erence is that while Christian leaders advocated for a self- strengthening movement through religious and ethical renewal by way of education,

Buddhist leaders felt that shifting the po liti cal structure such that it could restore the splendor of the Buddhist tradition would strengthen Korea. By attributing Japan’s success to Japa nese Buddhists, Yi and the Wfnjong believed that the strength of the Korean sangha likewise was indispensable to the in de pen dence of the Korean nation. Th us, to them, it was essential to form a relatively autonomous Buddhist institution that would make it possible to freely propagate. Most essential to fulfi lling this vision was to obtain legal recognition of the Wfnjong from the government. Th is recognition would allow them to legally build their headquarters within the four gates of Seoul, thus returning Korean Buddhism to the center of politics and society.

Th e Wfnjong’s nomination of Takeda as advisor can be also understood as part of this grand plan. Th ey expected him to be able to work for them. In September 1909, two Wfnjong administrators, Kim Hyf-nam and Kang Taeryfn, sent a letter to Takeda:

After leaving our temple [Wfnhgngsa], how have you been? In order to deliver a message from the head [of the Wfnjong] inquiring after your health, we went to your residence but were told that you had been out for several days. We think that you seem to be extremely busy making arrangements regarding the great matters of our temple. Please don’t worry about the head monk [Yi Hoegwang] since he has recovered a little bit from his illness, as of yesterday.

Th is morning, we went to the Offi ce of Temples and Shrines in the Home Ministry to inquire about the matter on recognition [or permission] [for the central offi ce of the Wfnjong]. Th e offi ce answered that there may be a delay in the decision. Nevertheless, since we are dealing with the matter of renewing and renovating Buddhism in the entire country, it is wise that we should not be hasty but set up the specifi cs and the history of [an institution for] Buddhism carefully. Yet, the most urgent task that we should act on is to establish a house [temple] and the central offi ce [a headquarters] in Seoul [inside the four gates]. We should fi rst receive permission [from the government] at any cost and then open up a general assembly of the thirteen provinces afterwards. Th erefore, the Korean sangha must not lose focus on the most important matters. As grand advisor [of the Wfnjong], please straighten your eyes and ears, quickly negotiate jurisdiction of the Home Ministry with the government offi cials, and acquire recognition of the building and central offi ce to be set up in Seoul. Accomplishing these will be analogous to keep a light ahead alive. It seems right that, only after these things can be accomplished, the specifi c regulations of the dharma [the Wfnjong] can be revised.

In this letter, it is quite clear that the Wfnjong was in a position to actively pressure Takeda to meet certain expectations. Th e tone of the letter suggests that Takeda worked for the Wfnjong, not the other way around.

Less than half a year later, with no response from the government, Yi and the Wfnjong took a bold step. In February 1910, without permission from the government, they offi cially designated the Wfnhgng temple as the central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong. In early March, they started building a propagation temple (p’ogyodang or fukyōdō), Kakhwangsa, right in the center of the four gates of Seoul (see fi gure 6.3), where the physical presence of Korean monks had formerly been prohibited. Th is undertaking was, therefore, as a Korean Buddhist journal stated, “a

banner announcing the reentry of monastics into the gates.” Th e project required huge amounts of money.

Despite the fi nancial support of Korean monks, lay people, and donations from wealthy temples, such as T’ongdo, Yi still needed to secure more funds. Yi made a deal with the T’ongdo temple that, if the Home Ministry approved the Wfnjong Central Offi ce, Yi himself would make the T’ongdo temple the great head temple such that it would be the sponsor of the Kakhwangsa as an administrative offi ce and control all of Korea’s temples. However, as discussed in the previous chapter, due to opposition from a government offi cial named Yokoyama from the Home Ministry and a Jōdo missionary, the deal did not materialize.

Even though he failed to secure funds from the temple, Yi was undeterred, and in a matter of months, Yi and the Wfnjong had collected eighty thousand wfn and tens of thousands of sacks of rice from monks, nuns, and lay Buddhists, including court ladies. Th ey fi nished building the Kakhwang temple and moved the offi ce of the Wfnjong there.

“For the fi rst time after the Yfnsan’gun (r. 1495– 1506) abolished all the temples inside the gates of Seoul,” colonial scholar Takahashi wrote,
“people could hear dharma talks, the ringing of the bell, and enjoy [freedom of] religious expression.”
Right before the temple’s completion in May, Yi petitioned the mayor of Seoul for offi cial recognition of the temple. Th e mayor dismissed the petition, he said, because establishing a new temple and nominating its abbot would require appropriate legal procedures at a higher level. Disappointed, Yi continued to push other programs. In order to produce monks with skills to proselytize, Yi launched a movement to elevate the Myfngjin School, which he had inherited from Hong Wflch’o, to a Buddhist Normal School (Pulgyo Sabfm Hakkyo), a higher education level. Th e Ministry of Education approved it in April 1910.

But Yi kept knocking on the government’s door for approval of the Wfnjong. In June 1910, fewer than two months before annexation, Yi Hoegwang and another Wonjong monk named Sfk Kgmhf consulted Yi Yonggu, the head of the Sich’fn’gyo, on whether to send another petition to the resident- general. Yi Yonggu thought that it would be useless, since the new resident- general, Terauchi, would not pay attention to it.

Yi Yonggu set forth his own agenda. Believing that the Sich’fn’gyo was the best candidate for assisting the Wfnjong, he recommended that the Wfnjong ally instead with the Sich’fn’gyo. As explained in the previous chapter, some monks joined various po liti cal and nonpo liti cal organizations. Monks were particularly drawn to the Ilchinhoe in part because it included in its reform charters a call to permanently abolish the prohibition of monks from entering the capital and allowing monks to marry. In addition, Yi Yonggu and other former Tonghak leaders, such as Ch’oe Che’u (1824– 64) and Ch’oe Sihyfng, had kept some affi nity for Buddhism, since in their earlier careers they had spent time in

Buddhist monasteries. For some years, Yi Yonggu and Yi Hoegwang stayed in touch about matters concerning Korean Buddhism. With these prior connections in place, it is not unlikely that Yi Yonggu proposed an institutional alliance with the Wfnjong, without consulting Takeda. Yi Hoegwang and Sfk Kgmhf declined outright. From the perspective of Yi Hoegwang, although the Sich’fn’gyo had been supportive of the Wf-njong’s cause and was a Korean religion in which some Buddhist monks participated, it neither shared doctrinal affi nity with Korean Buddhism nor was it as strong or infl uential as Japa nese Buddhist sects. In addition, Yi Yonggu’s move, had Takeda known, would have faced Takeda’s opposition anyway. Yi Hoegwang perhaps had good intuition. Soon after Japan’s annexation of Korea, the colonial government disestablished the Ilchinhoe, whose membership was identical with that of the Sich’fn’gyo’s.

A few weeks after the Ilchinhoe was disbanded, on September 13, 1910, Yi Hoegwang convened a four- day meeting with over one hundred monks representing seventy- two temples, an event that captured the media’s attention in Japan and Korea. In this meeting, deeply concerned that the same fate might befall the Wfnjong and realizing that the Wfnjong’s reform eff orts had not made much progress, the convention delegates reached three resolutions:

1. In order to make progress on the position of preachers, a training school shall be established to educate young monks selected from twenty- nine head temples in each province.
2. Th e maintenance expenses for the central religious offi ce, 4,000 wfn, and the expenditures for the training school, 360 wfn, shall be covered by the head temples.
3. One superintendent of propagation, one vice- superintendent, one teacher, and three assistants for the training school shall be designated. In addition, twenty- one staff members shall be selected.

In addition to these resolutions, they also made a steadfast commitment to challenging Christianity by initiating mass proselytization movements. But most importantly, to see these resolutions through, the monks of the Wfnjong agreed that they needed to seek more aggressively the Sōtōshū’s support for their causes. Yi Hoegwang conveyed this to Takeda and proposed an alliance of equals ( yfnhap tongmaeng in Korean, rengō dōmei in Japa nese) with the Sōtōshū. Takeda enthusiastically agreed, confi rming that this was a good idea and that an alliance would benefi t both the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū.

While Korean Buddhism was working speedily to unify, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries viewed the annexation of Korea, in August of that year, as an opening of the fl oodgates. Th ey moved swiftly to benefi t from the demise of the Chosfn dynasty, thinking that Korea was now an empty country waiting to be fi lled with Buddhist teachings. Th at same September that the Wfnjong contemplated forming an alliance with the Sōtōshū, a newspaper reported that a priest from the Ōtani- ha, with the help of a wealthy patron, attempted to bribe King Sunjong (r. 1907– 1910) into transferring three hundred temples in Korea to the Ōtani- ha. Th e scheme was “blocked for some reason” and the priest had to retreat. “Some reason” could have been that either the king or Yi Hoegwang did not favor the idea. According to two leading colonialist scholars, Eda Toshio and Takahashi, since the inception of the Wfnjong in 1908, Inoue Genshin of the Jōdoshū, Inami Senshō of the Ōtani- ha, and somebody (most likely Sano Zenrei) from the Nichirenshū had approached Yi a number of times proposing that the Wfnjong ally with their sect. From the beginning, Yi had no intention of giving over the Wfnjong to any of these sects, on the basis of doctrinal diff erences, and was preoccupied with receiving approval of the central religious

offi ce of the Wfnjong from the government through the help of the Sōtōshū and Takeda.

In early October, with backing from the seventy- two monks who believed that the Sōtōshū would be the best candidate for alliance, Yi visited the headquarters of the Sōtōshū in Tokyo and began negotiations, taking his disciple and protégé Kim Yfnggi (1877–?) as an interpreter and advisor. Takeda could not go with them since he was hospitalized in Seoul as of September 29 and fi ghting off cancer. A day before the negotiation with the Sōtōshū, Yi, accompanied by the Sōtō high administrator Oda Setsugan, visited the Ministry of the Imperial House hold (Kunaisho) and delivered a letter congratulating the Japa nese emperor on annexing Korea: “Representing seventy- two representatives of the Korean temples of the thirteen provinces of Korea, I respectfully congratulate [you on] the annexation of Korea.” Th e minister of the Imperial House hold was absent, but Vice Minister Kawamura Kingorō (1868–
1941) treated Yi as the head of Korean Buddhism. Yi believed he would not have been treated so well had it not been for his affi liation with the Sōtōshū. Th us again, the Sōtōshū had demonstrated its po liti cal infl uence to Yi.

Yi’s visit to the ministry was noticed by a Korean newspaper. Th e Sinhan minbo, published by Korean immigrants living in San Francisco, snidely reported that Yi, “pretending to represent Korean Buddhism,” had “had an audience with the Japa nese emperor” and charged that “this stupid monk had been played [by the colonizer].” Yi’s visit to Japan played well with the Japa nese media, however. Th e Chūgai nippō reported on Yi’s visit by fi rst introducing Korean Buddhism. Th e article discussed the “solemn manner and strict observance of precepts” of Korean monks, asserting that the monks from the “twenty- nine head temples” are “not inferior to Japa nese Zen masters” and are even “beyond our reach.” During Yi and his colleagues’ stay in Tokyo, “they strictly abided by vegetarianism,” it said. “Whenever Japa nese Buddhists or Japa nese talk about Korean Buddhism, they tend to dwell on the

shadowy elements of it, without really having an in- depth knowledge of it.” Th e negative and unjustifi ed descriptions of Korean Buddhism
“made people in Japan look down on Korean monks.” Th e article cautioned readers that, in light of the recent vital activities of the Wfnjong in Korea, “one should not jump to too hasty a conclusion about Korean Buddhism.” Th e reporter spoke highly of Yi’s demeanor and adherence to precepts.

Yi and Kim were clear about their position on the alliance. In case negotiations failed with the Sōtōshū, their backup plan was to work with the Rinzaishū, although they did not make this known publicly. Still, Yi greatly preferred the Sōtōshū to the Rinzaishū because the Rinzaishū had far less institutional power. A Jōdoshū reporter asked Yi why he had chosen the Sōtōshū, and Yi gave three reasons, clearly trying to ingratiate himself with the Sōtōshū. First, he was the nineteenth- generation descendent of State Protector T’aego Pou (1301– 1382), and therefore had an affi liation with the Sfn lineage. (In fact, Yi brought a chart of his dharma lineage to prove his legitimacy.) Second, that on May 23, 1910, he had received dharma transmission from Head Priest Ishikawa Sodō in a precepts ceremony held at a Sōtōshū temple, Sōsen- ji, in Pusan. Th e Sōtōshū shūhō had reported at the time:
Th e abbot of the Haein temple, accompanied by two other monks [one was his disciple Kim Yfnggi], came to the ceremony and received transmission, and with Yoshida Tesshin as an interpreter, they discussed Buddhist doctrines with the preceptor. Yi was deeply impressed by the ritual arrangements of the ceremony and said that the future promotion and unifi cation of Korean Buddhism would be dependent upon learning. His comments indicate that this ceremony also provided some incentive to enlightening Korean monks.

Th e third reason Yi sought the Sōtōshū, he said, was that his disciple Kim Yfnggi had received support from the Sōtōshū during his studies at Komazawa University.

However, there was a previously established relationship between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū that, based on two events, more directly contributed to the alliance. Th e fi rst was the petition the Sōtōshū fi led to the Resident- General’s Offi ce in the spring of 1908 on behalf of Yi and the Wfnjong. Th e second was when the Sōtōshū helped the Wfnjong to remain at the Wfnhgng temple when the offi cials Yi Kgnt’aek, his brother Yi Kgnho, and the Jōdo missionary Horio Kanmu threatened to retake the temple. But perhaps more than these reasons, behind the scenes there was a key fi gure who had brought the two sides together.

The Role Of Kim Yfnggi

Kim Yfnggi, also known as Kim T’aegn and as Il- u, his dharma name, played an indispensable role not only in getting the Sōtōshū to petition Resident- General Itō on behalf of the Wfnjong, securing the Wfnhgng temple, and persuading Yi to consider the Sōtōshū as the best ally, but also in reaching the alliance deal itself. Kim is easily missed because the narratives of the alliance predominantly revolve around the two wellknown and easily typecast fi gures Yi and Takeda. As a result, primary sources related to Kim have received no scholarly attention. Bringing Kim back into the narrative disturbs nationalist historiography because he cannot be easily categorized as either a traitor or a nationalist. Since there are no biographies of Kim, the foregoing attempts to provide some detail on his history as it relates to the alliance.

Kim, aged 33 in 1910 and ju nior to Takeda and Yi, had trained at the prominent T’ongdo temple. He spent seven years in Japan studying Japa nese and Buddhism at the Sōtō- affi liated Komazawa University and later law at Nihon University. As an elite Korean monk who “mastered old and new academic studies,” Kim lived in the renowned Sōji- ji

temple, one of the two head temples of the Sōtōshū. As a testament to Kim’s good standing in Japan, before he returned to Korea in February 1910, the young Sōtōshū priests at Komazawa University threw a special farewell party for him.

Despite the funding and respect the Sōtōshū accorded him, Kim was often critical of the Sōtōshū. At one point, in a personal meeting with the Sōtō head priest Kennin Mokurai he stated that there was no true Zen master in the Sōtō tradition. His remark was reported in the Chūgai nippō and reprinted in other magazines. Komazawa students protested the newspaper and demanded an apology from the newspaper for making a personal statement public. Th is boldness shows that Kim had not necessarily come under the infl uence of Japa nese thinking through his education there but thought in de pen dently.

In fact, Kim was a patriotic Korean and was actively engaged in three related societies founded by Korean students living in Japan: the Great Absolute Academic Society (T’aeggk Hakhoe), the Great Korean Academic Society (Taehan Hakhoe), and the Association of the Academic Promotion of Great Korea (Taehan Hgnghakhoe), or ga nized in 1906, 1908, and 1909, respectively. Th ese groups published monthly journals— T’aeggk hakhoebo, Taehan hakhoe wflbo, and Taehan hgnghakhoebo—
that promoted the Patriotic Enlightenment Movement (Aeguk kyemong undong) in Korea. Kim, as a member, contributed a number of essays and poems to these journals. In one piece, published in January 1906, titled “About the Nation in the Individual” (kaeinjfk chasin kukkaron),
Kim admonished Koreans most urgently to transform themselves individually into refl ections of their nation in order to unify into the ideal nation. Kim argued that each citizen of Korea must change himself so that he personally embodies the qualities of a modern nation. Th en, all

people would be able to come together to form a national community. He asserted that national in de pen dence required both spiritual power and material power, yet Korea was destitute in spiritual power because Korean traditions had been “shackled by old evils.” He argued that even though “no philosophy of the East and West transcends Buddhism,” Korea had stigmatized Buddhism as nihilistic, thus committing the grave mistake of blinding itself and going in the wrong direction. In addition, Korean society had denigrated monks as “outcasts,” thus mistaking “the medicinal herb as poison.” Th us, Kim attributed the disintegration of the Korean state and civilization in large part to the oppression of Buddhism by the state.

In another essay, Kim jealously contrasted the discrimination of Korean Buddhists with the power of Japa nese Buddhism in Japan. Th e Paekche (18ce– 660ce) monk Hyegwan of “our country,” he stated, transmitted Buddhism to Japan 1,300 years ago, and since then, Japa nese emperors, upon ascension, have received Buddhist precepts. Th erefore, many emperors ruled the country based on Buddhism, and, in time of war, soldiers donned monks’ robes, waving fl ags printed with the phrase “homage to the Lotus Sutra” (namu myōhō rengekyō). Kim quoted the Japa nese intellectual Inoue Tetsujirō (1855– 1944) as saying, “Th e spiritual civilization of Japan has been acquired by the continuous practice of Buddhism; material civilization has become pop u lar by following the West.” Hence, Kim indicated that the current power of Japan is largely derived from the infl uence of Buddhism in society and politics, the exact opposite of the fate of the Korean state and the condition of Korean Buddhism. (Kim’s feelings were later mirrored by the conversation of the Wfnjong monks who met in 1909 and who were spied on by a Japa nese police offi cer.)
Like most of his contemporaries, he was a fi rm believer in social Darwinism: Kim wrote, “It is the unavoidable principle of evolution that the fi ttest survives while the unfi t perishes.” In order for Korea to gain
“autonomy” (chajukwfn), he argued, each individual needs to strengthen himself fi rst. Based on this social Darwinism, Kim wanted the

Wfnjong to ally with the Sōtōshū because it was the biggest among Zen sects.

Kim enjoyed acquaintances with Sōtō high priests as well as infl uential Koreans. For example, Kim accompanied the prominent Sōtō master Hioki Mokusen when Hioki visited the T’ongdo temple on his return from China to Japan in early 1907. When the Sōtō head priest Ishikawa Sodō held a precept ceremony, as mentioned before, at the Sōsen- ji temple in Pusan in early 1910, Kim took Yi Hoegwang to the ceremony for observation and introduced him to Ishikawa. At one point, Kim also formed a close relationship with the head priest of the Kenninji temple, Takeda Mokurai (1854– 1930).

Like some Korean monks, Kim was also an Ilchinhoe member and from time to time met with the Sich’fn’gyo leader Yi Yonggu in person.

Th ese examples, among others, provide evidence that, due to his language ability and familiarity with the two traditions, Kim worked as the key liaison between Yi and the Wfnjong monks (who generally could not speak Japa nese) and Takeda and priests in the Sōtōshū (who generally could not speak Korean).

Kim was key in facilitating contact between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū in mid- 1908 in order to have the Sōtōshū petition Resident General Itō (see fi gure 4.2). Because of Kim’s long connection with the Sōtōshū, it is highly likely that Kim persuaded Yi to work with the Sōtōshū, informing Yi of the Sōtōshū’s extensive resources, power, and connections. As discussed earlier, soon after the Wfnjong had been established, Yi visited the Sōtōshū in May not only to observe the institutional system of the Sōtōshū but also to ask for the Sōtō’s assistance in petitioning the government. As a result of Yi’s meeting, in which Kim was also involved, the Sōtōshū decided to send Kim Yfnggi to Korea to fi nd out more about the Wfnjong and to report on the state of Buddhism in Korea in general. Kim heard about Takeda and Takeda’s involvement in the Wfnjong from Yi when Kim spent some time with Yi in Korea. It is also highly likely that Kim brought with him the Sōtō’s petition to Itō on behalf of the Wfnjong. Kim went back to Japan and

$\star\star$ .

Th e Wfnjong and Sōtōshū’s Attempted Alliance 249 gave his report to the Sōtōshū administrators, who eventually decided to nominate Takeda as supervisor of the Sōtō mission to Korea. A letter to Takeda from Kim dated August 6, 1908, confi rms Kim’s involvement:
I write you with respect. In mid- June this year, I, despite my little capability, was assigned by the central offi ce of your sect [the Sōtōshū] to investigate the purpose of establishing the central offi ce of Korea [the Wfnjong]. And when I
was about to leave for Korea, I met Master Yi Hoegwang and heard plentifully about your name and reputation. After I came back from Korea, I respectfully and thoroughly reported all the matters to your sect. At the time, three masters, Hirotsu Sessan, Oda Setsugan, and Akazawa Akiyoshi, were pleased with great satisfaction. When they said that they would nominate you as the superintendent of the Sōtō mission to Korea, I was delighted and happy. According to Master Yi Hoegwang’s letters these days, you have the intention to strengthen

the central offi ce of the Wfnjong and he praised your utmost, diligent eff ort.

To accomplish this matter does not end with its infl uence on Korean Buddhism, but I must say it is also greatly related to the permanent friendship between the two countries.

Kim was also deeply involved in the struggle to secure the Wfnhgng temple. As mentioned earlier, in 1908, Korean government offi cials, in collusion with a Jōdo missionary, attempted to oust the Wfnjong from the temple. Kim sent a letter to Takeda:
Since this lawsuit will greatly aff ect our future work from now on, I beg you to resolve this matter to the end. I speak to you shamelessly because of my confi – dence in the care and love you have given to us. I would be greatly appreciative if you could telegraph Home Minister Song about our [the Wfnjong’s]
determination.

[PS] At 8:00 this morning, I sent a telegraph to head of the Wfnjong Yi not to worry. At 9:30, I also sent a letter to Yi that you would do your utmost to resolve this matter and that you would send a telegraph to Home Minister Song, as well.

Th is letter reveals the level of Kim’s involvement for the cause of the Wfnjong, busing himself between Takeda and Yi, and the Sōtōshū and the Wfnjong. As a result of Kim’s mediation, the court case regarding use of the Wfnhgng temple was decided in favor of the Wfnjong. Kim wrote to Takeda, “I received and read your letter with gratitude this morning. Everything worked out well as the result of your eff ort on behalf of the Wfnjong and the Preaching Hall [the Wfnhgng temple]. [Lady] Ch’fn [see below] and Ven. Hoegwang should be altogether delighted.”

Lady Ch’Fn’S Support

In this letter, Kim mentions Lady Ch’fn, an infl uential Korean court lady and a patron of Buddhism. Known by her dharma name, Ch’fn’gongsim (her legal name was Ch’fn Ilch’fng, 1846–?), she was one of the last court ladies in the late Chosfn dynasty and witnessed

how the tumultuous events of her country played out at the imperial court. She was brought into the court at the age of four and came to be one of three most powerful court ladies, along with Lady Cho and Lady Ko. She served as a crucial middleperson in fi nding Buddhist temples that could provide prayer ser vices for Empress O˘ m’s family and friends.

Upon requests by the empress, Lady Ch’fn met monastics outside the four gates of Seoul and handed over fi nancial resources for prayers and temple repairs. When Yi Hoegwang came to Seoul in early 1907, rumor spread that a great master was in town. Being a Buddhist, Ch’fn sought him out and had him stay at her residence. Ch’fn also submitted an article to Yi’s publication Chosfn Pulgyo wflbo to express support for the journal. Th e article goes on to admonish female Buddhists to educate themselves and become enlightened in accordance with the demands of the modern world. Th rough her connections and wealth, she helped Yi establish the Kakhwang temple in 1910, became a strong supporter of Yi and the Wfnjong’s cause, and stood by Yi until his death.

Ch’fn was also familiar with Japan. In March 1909, she visited Japan as part of the special emissary group led by Palace Minister Min Pyfngsfk (1858– 1940) to visit Prince Yfngch’in. Th e prince was a son of Empress O˘ m, had been taken captive in 1907 by the resident- general, and sent to Japan under the pretext of providing him with an education. Takeda had known about Ch’fn’s infl uence before he was introduced to her. In his 1908 report on Buddhism to the Sōtōshū and the government, Takeda describes Empress O˘ m and her protégé Ch’fn as the two major court fi gures who supported Korean Buddhism. She came to know Takeda personally through Yi and asked Kim to arrange a meeting with Takeda. She met him in early April 1910 and discussed matters on Buddhism, with Kim present as a translator. Afterwards, she sent a thankyou letter to Takeda:

I will never forget that I was able to have an audience with you in person. According to Kim Yfnggi, you have done your utmost on behalf of the central offi ce [of the Wfnjong] and Korean Buddhism. Even a lay Buddhist like me cannot truly thank you more. I deeply wish that . . . you can revitalize Korean Buddhism and fulfi ll the task of opening the mountain of the fi rst generation
[the central offi ce of Korean Buddhism] without obstruction.

Although primary sources yet to be discovered will reveal how Kim, Yi, and Takeda related to Ch’fn, for now these known communications provide a picture of Kim’s centrality in connecting important fi gures of the period. Kim’s relationship with Takeda is revealed through letters. For example, prior to Kim’s return to Korea in 1910, he wrote to Takeda in an undated letter: “Th e date for [my] return has not been confi rmed. However, when I received Master Hoegwang’s letter saying that he was receiving your help, the more I think about it the more I drop tears of gratitude in spite of myself. I will follow as you direct and will leave Korea based on your guidance.” Upon graduation, he worried about his future career.

In a letter to Takeda dated January 27, 1910, Kim laments, “Last December, I barely passed the exams, graduated, and came back [to Korea] by ship. However, the only fruit of my seven years [of study] is just the certifi cate sealed in red ink. I hope you guide me with compassion.” (In this case, “guide me” is a delicate way of asking for Takeda to help him fi nd a job.) Four months later, Kim wrote another letter to Takeda to remind him of his need for employment:
I deeply appreciate being allowed an audience with you amid your busy schedule whenever I visited you. . . . By the way, I am terribly sorry but, as I asked you before, I would like to beg you to pay attention to getting me a job. Under my current circumstances, it seems diffi cult for me to stay in Seoul. I hope you guide me. Sorry for asking you for diffi cult favors!

Two weeks later, on May 20, Kim wrote, “My family and I are planning to leave for Seoul [from Pusan] on the 25th [of May]. I am terribly sorry but I hope you can help me fi nd employment.” Although it is unknown

whether Takeda found a position for Kim or not, the letters provide evidence of Takeda’s infl uence and that monastics like Kim turned to sympathetic Japa nese Buddhist fi gures. On a side note, the mention of “my family” also reveals that Kim may have gotten married.

After annexation in August 1910, Kim accompanied Yi and others to Japan to strike a deal with the Sōtōshū. Kim arranged the travel agenda and a dozen or so meetings with Japa nese monastics and politicians. Th e negotiation and fi nal agreement between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū would likely not have been possible without Kim’s involvement. After all, he had majored in law. As his writings on Korean Buddhism indicate, Kim was not just a messenger but had his own vision for Korean Buddhism and acted on it by infl uencing Takeda and Yi. Th e Chūgai nippō recognizes Kim’s role in reaching the alliance by stating: “As seen from the outside, there is Takeda Hanshi who has been active behind the scenes for over a de cade in Korea and who has mediated [between the two sects]. From inside, there is Kim Yfnggi (aka T’aegn). Th is time, he accompanied Yi and translated for him; [Kim], who as a foreign student, studied at Komazawa University and law at Nihon [University].”
Th e newspaper concluded, “Th anks to Takeda, Kim, and others, this deal has materialized.”

The Agreement

Now we return to the scene of October 1910, in Kyoto, with Yi Hoegwang and Kim Yfnggi preparing to meet with the head administrators of the Sōtōshū to discuss an alliance. (Takeda had to stay at a hospital in Seoul for treatment of cancer.) Despite the close working relationship among Kim, Yi, Takeda, the Wfnjong, and the Sōtōshū, the two sides did not see eye to eye. Th e initial negotiation on the fi rst day did not succeed in reaching an agreement toward an alliance of equals. Th e head monk of the Sōtōshū, Ishikawa Sodō, insisted that the fl edging Korean Buddhist institution could not be given equal status to the Sōtōshū because it was not the same size, did not have as much po liti cal power, and had not received the state’s recognition, yet. Ishikawa suggested that the Wfnjong become an auxiliary or ga ni za tion ( fuzoku) of the Sōtōshū for

a year before moving toward an equal status. Yi Hoegwang and Kim declined the off er and threatened to attempt an alliance with the Rinzaishū unless the new relationship could be based on an “alliance” (yfnhap) instead. In fact, Yi had a connection to the Rinzaishū through Pobong, a Wonjong administrator who maintained contact with the Rinzai missionary Furukawa. Th e next day, Ishikawa consulted with the Home Ministry in Japan, which gave him unoffi cial approval for an alliance of equals. At this point, Ishikawa and the Sōtō administrators were not aware that they were supposed to fi rst consult with the governor- general of Korea, who, just a few days earlier, on October 1, offi cially took the position and assumed complete control of all aff airs in colonial Korea. On October 6, Ishikawa and Yi managed to agree on the following terms:
1 All followers of the Korean Wfnjong hereafter will be permanently and completely allied [yfnhap tongmaeng or rengō dōmei] with the Sōtōshū.

2. Th e religious offi ce of the Sōtōshū shall help the Wfnjong receive approval for the central religious offi ce from the government.
3. Th e central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong shall provide maximum con ve nience for the propagation of the Sōtōshū in Korea.
4. Th e Wfnjong shall invite an advisor from the Sōtōshū. 5. Th e Wfnjong shall invite several missionaries from the Sōtōshū, place them in the main temples, and assign them positions to disseminate Buddhism and educate young monks. Furthermore, when the Sōtōshū dispatches its missionaries, the Wfnjong shall provide accommodation for them at the main temples designated by the Sōtōshū.
5. Th is alliance can be revised, modifi ed, and abolished in case the parties do not agree on specifi c terms.
6. Th e alliance will go into eff ect as of the day when approval of the agreement is granted from competent authorities.

Although this agreement ostensibly provided equal terms for the two sides, using the term yfnhap tongmaeng or rengō dōmei in the introduc-

tion, in fact the terms leaned heavily in favor of the Sōtōshū. Th ree of the seven terms— numbers three, four, and fi ve— gave the Sōtōshū the upper hand. Moreover, to quietly signal the disparity in status, the Sōtōshū had the second in command Hirotsu sign the agreement, rather than provide the signature of the head priest, Ishikawa. Nevertheless, the agreement did provide important support for the Wfnjong, and, as a result, the agreement should not be thought of as the same kind of “annexation” that had occurred between Korea and Japan at a po liti cal level a month and a half earlier.

However, given that the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement was made less than two months after Japan’s annexation of Korea, this interpretation is understandable. One reason for the misreading has to do with semantics.

Technically, the Chinese term rengō dōmei, used in the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement, is not that diff erent in meaning from the term pyfnghap or heigō, the latter of which was the word Japan used when it annexed Korea. Heigō, as well as rengō dōmei, implies “annexation.” As scholars Hilary Conroy and Peter Duus have pointed out, Japan deliberately used heigō to mislead and paper over its true goal of colonizing Korea. Conroy argues that Japan should have used a more obvious term gappō
(merger), a point seconded by Duus, who says the colonial overtake was glossed “as an act of union.” Duus maintains that Japan hid its ulterior motives “behind the façade of the commonality between the dominator and the dominated.” However, Alexis Dudden argues that, rather than concealing its true intentions, the Meiji government consciously selected terms that “already resonated in international meaning” and thus were not diff erent from terms used by Eu ro pe an colonizers such as En gland, Germany, and France. In this sense, one can conclude that the Sōtōshū was following the same rhetorical pattern and that, despite using the term rengō dōmei, with its implication of an equal alliance, the stronger Sōtōshū fully intended to amalgamate or take over the weaker Wfnjong.

Nonetheless, a close comparison of the terms of the Sōtō- Wfnjong treaty with the annexation treaty shows that these are two very diff erent treaties. Th e 1910 Japan- Korea annexation treaty makes clear that Japan would take over all the functions of the Korean government, thereby eradicating the national identity of Korea. Th e annexation treaty stipulated that the emperor of Korea “makes complete and permanent cession to the Emperor of Japan of all rights of sovereignty over the whole Korea” (charter 1) and Japan “consents to the complete annexation of Korea (charter 2); Japan “assumes the entire government and administration of Korea” (charter 6); and Japan “will employ in the public services of Japan Koreans who accept the new regime loyally” (charter 7).

In contrast, the Sōtō- Wfnjong treaty had no stipulations that would have the Sōtōshū take over the Wfnjong’s governance and executive functions, such as bringing Korean temples under the jurisdiction of the Sōtōshū or placing the nomination of abbots in the hands of the Sōtōshū.

Of course, clauses 3, 4, and 5 stated that the Wfnjong would “provide maximum con ve nience” for the Sōtō mission to Korea (clause 3); invite an advisor (clause 4); and “assign” Sōtō missionaries to projects on
“propagation” and “education,” while providing them with “accommodation” (clause 6). While unquestionably partial, these terms however did not translate into the Wfnjong abdicating its autonomy to the Sōtōshū.

Furthermore and more importantly, Yi and Kim were able to include the two key provisions that off set the impartial terms. Clause 2 obliged the Sōtōshū to assist the Wfnjong to receive legal approval from the colonial government, and clause 6 dictated that both parties could nullify any provision— and indeed could nullify the entire agreement— in case a disagreement arose. Th is means that the Wfnjong could dissociate itself from the Sōtōshū whenever it wanted to. Th is latitude was non ex is tent in the annexation treaty. Th erefore, it is an overstatement to say that the Sōtō- Wfnjong deal was a religious annexation following upon a po liti cal annexation, as scholarship has so often asserted.

A close reading of the terms has also excavated the following discrepancy, thus far unnoticed in scholarship: there are two diff erent versions of clause 7.

Version A: Th e alliance will go into eff ect as of the day when approval of the agreement is granted from competent authorities.

versus Version B: Th e alliance will go into eff ect after the Sōtōshū has received recognition of the Wfnjong.

In version A, “agreement” referred to the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement itself. Th is implies that the agreement resulting from the meeting in October was a draft that would require approval from both the government in Japan and in Korea. Version B has a completely diff erent meaning:
the alliance between the Sōtōshū and Wfnjong would not go into eff ect until the Wfnjong received legal standing from the colonial government.

Clearly, version B was more to the Wfnjong’s advantage than version A,
because if the Wfnjong received legal recognition from the colonial government, then the Wfnjong would have achieved its primary goal and all other terms, such as providing con ve niences to the Sōtōshū, were just returning a favor. Moreover, once having achieved that state recognition, the Wfnjong would be dealing with the Sōtōshū on a more level playing fi eld.

Where did these two versions originate, and which one is true? Version A, which I use in the full listing of terms earlier, is drawn from the Maeil sinbo. Th e newspaper issued one of the fi rst reports on the terms of the agreement in its entirety on April 2, 1911, almost six months after the formation of the alliance. Likewise, just three weeks after the SōtōWfnjong meeting, the Chūgai nippō also came out with a report on the agreement. Th e report did not detail the terms but did state that the agreement would require approval from the Japa nese home and colonial government authorities. Th e most reliable piece of evidence that version A is the original comes from Hirotsu Sessan, who himself had signed the contract. At the fourteenth Sōtō Congressional Meeting, on November 1, Hirotsu stated to the congressional members that the agreement

“is contingent upon receiving approval of both the central government and the colonial authorities.” Later, Kwfn Sangno used version A in his book published in 1917, as did Yi Ngnghwa in his in 1918, both of which Korean scholars later quoted from. Th e Tonga ilbo, another Korean daily newspaper, drew on this version in an article published June 28, 1920.

Version B appeared in Takahashi Tōru’s 1929 work Richō Bukkyō
(Korean Buddhism). It also was mentioned in an article from 1932 by the Korean monk and scholar Kang Yumun titled “Summary on the Recent, One- Hundred Year History of Korean Buddhism” (“Ch’oeggn paengnyfn’gan Chosfn Pulgyo kaegwan”), which some Korean scholars, including Sf Kyfngsu and Han Sfkhgi, have used in their scholarship. A report on the alliance between the two Buddhisms published by the colonial government in 1938 also used version B. (It should be noted, however, that the 1938 report was mostly likely written by Takahashi or quoted directly from Takahashi’s book.) Since Takahashi worked for the colonial government as a researcher on Korean religions as of September 1910, he might have conveyed the way the colonial government understood the terms. Although it does not seem obvious at fi rst blush, the colonial government would have preferred version B because version A would have required approval from the home government. At that time, Terauchi had supreme authority in Korea, and he would not have welcomed any further administrative meddling from the home government. Another explanation for the two versions is the remote possibility that Yi might have adjusted version A to become version B, with version B being more acceptable to the abbots Yi needed

support from, not to mention to the colonial government. Nonetheless, it is hard to know how version B came about. However, in some respects, fi guring out which version of clause 7 is the right one is irrelevant, because clause 2, which stipulated that the Sōtōshū should assist the Wfnjong in receiving legal recognition from the government authorities, ensured that Yi’s primary objective would be fulfi lled.

In sum, even though most of the terms favored the Sōtōshū, as long as the Wfnjong received approval from the government, there was no way that the agreement would have led, as Han Yong’un later remembered, to the handing “over all the rights for temple property, administration, and propagation [to the Sōtōshū].” As the colonial scholar Eda Toshio (1898– 1957) ascertained in 1936, Yi “merely utilized the institutional power of the Sōtōshū” to push recognition of the Wfnjong through. If the colonial government had approved either the agreement or the Wfnjong’s legal standing, either way the Wfnjong would have retained executive power over their own temples.

With this in mind, Yi accepted the terms and returned to Korea. On October 23, he proceeded to fi le another petition to the colonial government requesting recognition of the Wfnjong and its central religious offi ce at the Kakhwang temple. Concurrently, the Sōtōshū sent the former missionary of Taiwan, Wakō Kokuei, an expert at registering Taiwanese temples to the Sōtōshū, to Korea as a representative. He was assigned to spend three (or six) months, as of January 1911, to lobby the colonial government to approve the Wfnjong.

Reactions To The Agreement

To everyone’s surprise, the colonial government responded to Yi’s petition by charging Yi with violating the traditional Korean Criminal Law 408, which stated that “those who establish a private temple and shrine shall be sentenced to three years in prison” and then threatened imprisonment accordingly! Although the punishment was not implemented, it came as a shock to both Yi and Takeda. Hoping the deal with the

Sōtōshū would eventually change the government’s view, Yi traveled around Korea receiving signatures from head monks. He took care, however, not to reveal all the details of the agreement to Korean monks, because he was concerned that some of the partial terms might anger some. He had planned to reveal all the terms of the deal, as a Japa nese government source on the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance rec ords, “after [my emphasis] the Wfnjong received recognition from the government authorities.” Everything seemed fi ne until a secretary at the Wfnjong’s offi ce leaked the unequal terms to some monks at the T’ongdo temple.

Monks were infuriated and excoriated Yi for attempting to merge Korean Buddhism, which descended primarily from the Imje (Rinzai or Linchi) tradition, with a sect in the Sōtō tradition.

On January 1, 1911, the Maeil sinbo published an article by a Korean monk named Kgmhwa Sfnin Kaesfksaeng. He stated that even though the Rinzai and Sōtō traditions, two of the fi ve branches of Zen, were fl ourishing in Japan, Korean Buddhism, despite persecution during the Chosfn period, had managed to preserve the Imje tradition, which T’aego Pou (1301– 1382) had received from Chinese Ch’an (Sfn) master Sfksil Ch’fnggong (Sekishitsu Seigū, 1272– 1352). Th us, the monk claimed,
“Korean Buddhism’s true lineage is Imje” and blamed someone (meaning Yi) for “subordinating the Imje tradition to the Sōtōshū.” He continued, “Even an ignorant local monk will say he has been ‘stupid’ when he fi nds out he got unknowingly entangled [with the Sōtōshū]!” He concluded that Korean Buddhism should develop itself “in the confi nes of the Imje teachings.”
However, most Wfnjong monks did not oppose the idea of allying the Wfnjong with the Sōtōshū if it were on equal terms. Yi Ngnghwa, who was close to the Imjejong (discussed later), wrote, “After the establishment of the Wfnjong, all the representatives of Korean temples wanted to receive approval of the Wfnjong from the government and so they sent the leader Yi Hoegwang to Japan, who eventually concluded a charter with the Sōtōshū.” Yi was faithful to the intentions of those

who sent him in that he insisted on an equal alliance rather than subordination to the Sōtōshū. Yet, it was Yi’s primary goal that the Wfnjong receive offi cial approval from the government even if that involved some concessions. If the agreement was approved and the Wfnjong gained the state’s recognition with the help of the Sōtōshū, the few compromises would have been nothing more than minor con ve niences that, in Yi’s mind, the Wfnjong would be happy to provide to the Sōtōshū in return. Yi felt that the Wfnjong would always maintain its autonomy because the Wfnjong’s charters gave the power of nomination of abbots for all head and branch temples to the Wfnjong’s head (and not to the state or the Sōtōshū). With administrative autonomy, it was unlikely that the Wfnjong could ever substantively come under the control of the Sōtōshū as a result of this agreement.

Formation Of The Imjejong

In any case, it is from this controversy that a number of Korean monks, headed by Han Yong’un, Pak Hanyfng (1870– 1948), O Sfngwfl, Chin Chingng, To Chinho, and others, began to seriously think about and reformulate their identity, history, and tradition. It was unacceptable to them that Korean Buddhism, which inherited the Linchi tradition from China, would be “converted to the Sōtōshū tradition.” Although the Korean monks that Japa nese missionaries had encountered emphasized the superiority of meditation over other forms of practices, it was rather a new, discursive development to identify Korean Buddhism with a specifi c meditative tradition, Imje, over against Sōtō practices.

In December 1910, the monks opposing the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance gathered at Chgngsim Temple in Kwangju, but because of a lack of advertising, just a few showed up. On February 11, 1911, Han Yong’un and the others held another sangha meeting. Prior to the meeting, they had distributed a prospectus for establishing a new sect, the Imjejong, and a central religious offi ce. It read:
Alas, the falsehood of human beings has taken residence in heaven and morality has deteriorated. Brothers of the universe, who all have the same innate Buddhahood, today possess neither the principle of equality with the great

commonality nor equanimity. With trivial desires and personal greed, they deceive people and have lost their love and compassion. Th is is truly what our great Śākyamuni is greatly sad about. Hence, it is our responsibility to prepare an arena of great sameness and great equality . . . because the other group [the Wfnjong] tries to damage the great unity by setting up various kinds of titles and purposes and [forcefully] include our group into theirs. Our group, in response, will establish our own name and goals separately and accomplish the great plea sure and peace of all beings through compassionate work. Th erefore, we set up the Korean Imje Administrative Offi ce (Chosfn Imjejong Chongmuwfn) and devote ourselves to religious work without involving politics at all.

Getting rid of superstitious thoughts . . . promoting the happiness of the human world . . . having as members 16 billion beings, who are of the entire world and innumerable other worlds . . . all brothers should give up self- interest and love others.

Th is prospectus is philosophical and indirect about its purpose. However, it is clear that the “other group” refers to Yi Hoegwang and the Wfnjong monks whose “falsehood” was about to break the unity of the sangha by driving Korean Buddhism into the arms of the Sōtōshū. Interestingly, though, this new sect defi ned itself very similarly to the Wfnjong, as it sought to be a modern religion, non- superstitious, universal, non- sectarian, and non- political. In addition, like the Wfnjong, the Imjejong submitted a petition to the colonial government for the offi cial recognition.

Th e above prospectus did not specifi cally raise issues of doctrines and lineage to distinguish the Imje from the Sōtōshū. Later, in 1920, Pak Hanyfng explained in retrospect, “Our primary purpose was to oppose the movement that was intent on subordinating our Buddhism, which has [its own] history and life [to the Sōtōshū]. But we could not make that public due to the po liti cal situation of the time.” Han also recalled that, “We established the Imjejong, the essence of Korean Buddhism, with the belief that establishing a diff erent sect would be the best way to destroy the alliance.”

Han Yong’Un’S Role

It is worth taking a moment to look at the ways in which Han Yong’un, known in historiography as a true nationalist and the opposite of the traitor Yi Hoegwang, had a more complex relationship with the Japa nese and Japa nese Buddhism than what is conventionally understood.

Although Han emerged as the pivotal fi gure opposing the 1910 alliance, Han had originally been open to the idea of receiving assistance from Japa nese Buddhism, especially the Sōtōshū, and at the time the Wfnjong was founded, he worked with Yi Hoegwang for the same cause.

In addition, it is diffi cult to understand Han’s later work, especially his eff ort to form the Imjejong, without taking into consideration his fi rsthand experience in Japan, about half a year in 1908. Japan was not the only source of modern knowledge for him, however. He was a former Tonghak member who became a monk at age twenty- seven, in 1905. He was deeply infl uenced by the Chinese intellectual Liang Qichao, who introduced Western philosophy and modern ideas into China. After ordination, Han decided to travel around the West, starting in Vladivostok, but was shot by a patriotic Korean who mistook him for an Ilchinhoe member. As a result, he had to return to Korea. He later resolved to travel to Japan instead, since he believed that “new enlightenment and civilization came from Japan.” Interestingly, while initially infl uenced by Chinese intellectuals, at this point he did not consider China as a country where he could learn modern knowledge, and instead chose Japan, where he consolidated his thoughts on nationhood, religion, and modernity.

Among the many Japa nese sects that he could have visited to study, he went to the Sōtōshū’s central offi ce in Tokyo in 1908 and met Hirotsu, secretary of the Sōtōshū, who let him stay at the dorm of Komazawa

University and take courses on Japa nese language and Buddhism for free. His four months of study at Komazawa infl uenced him in many ways. First, he witnessed the modern development of Japa nese Buddhism, especially the centralized institution of the Sōtōshū, the relatively high status of Japa nese Buddhist priests, and the well- established practice of clerical marriage among Japa nese priests. He later refl ected on his experience in his 1913 Treatise on the Reformation of Korean Buddhism (Chosfn Pulgyo yusillon) (discussed in chapter 7). Han also wrote a Buddhist bible, Th e Great Canon of Buddhism (Pulgyo taejfn) in 1914, which was indebted primarily to the Japa nese version of Holy Texts of Buddhism (Bukkyō seiten), published in 1905 by Nanjō Bunyū and Maeda Eun (1857– 1930), two Shinshū priests.

During his studies at Komazawa, he published a number of poems in the student journal, Wayūshi.

Th e journal quotes Han as saying that he was an Imje monk from the Kfnbong temple. Why did Han not go to Hanazono University, the denominational school of the Rinzaishū in Kyoto, which shared the same sectarian identity? First, he came to know about the Sōtōshū through his involvement with the Wfnjong, and therefore it was natural that he sought its assistance fi rst. Second, even Han, with his heightened sense of identity as an Imje monk, preferred the Sōtōshū because it was much more infl uential and powerful than the Rinzaishū. He saw the Sōtōshū as the best place to acquire modern knowledge and learn about modernized Buddhism. When he left Japan on September 1, 1908, he intended to return to Komazawa by the end of the year. However, Han got involved in the Wfnjong and also the Myfngjin School. At the Myfngjin School, Han taught a course on land- surveying techniques, which he had learned in Japan.

Another piece of evidence that Han’s ideas about reforming Korean Buddhism were infl uenced by Japa nese Buddhism is his promotion of clerical marriage, allowed in Japa nese Buddhism but not acceptable in Korean Buddhism, at least not offi cially. While working with Yi and at the school, Han petitioned the Japanese- run Korean cabinet in March 1910 and later the Resident- General’s Offi ce in September to allow clerical marriage (discussed in the next chapter).

In fact, Han was not the fi rst to request offi cial permission from the state authorities for clerical marriage. Korean offi cial Yi Minsfl had already submitted petitions to the Privy Council (Chungch’uwfn) in 1907 and 1908 in response to the growing number of Korean monks in marital relationships by 1907. Th is practice was also noticed by Westerners in 1905, and it had become more pervasive by 1910. Han likely requested the legalization of clerical marriage because he observed the increased number of married monks and believed that the model the Sōtōshū and Japa nese Buddhists used would work for Korean Buddhism. Han’s petitions, along with the previous ones by Min, persuaded the Privy Council to permit the practice in 1910, although it was not implemented for unknown reasons.

Th is past should be considered when interpreting Han’s views of the colonial government and Japa nese Buddhism, especially of the Sōtōshū.

Hence, his break with the Wfnjong was not so much about rejecting the infl uence of Japa nese Buddhism as it was a rejection of the unequal alliance. He was not averse to making contacts with the Japa nese Buddhists: none of his writing criticized this practice, which was widespread at the time. Th us, his Imje movement was an anti- Wfnjong movement and not, as Chfng Kwangho believes, a “fi erce anti- Sōtō movement,”
or, as Kim Kwangsik argues, an “anti- Japanese” movement.

To further complicate the prevailing image among contemporary Koreans of Han as the emblematic nationalist monk, there is a controversial writing by him, far more troublesome than his 1910 petition to Terauchi on clerical marriage. Soon after the Sino- Japanese War broke out in 1937, he, as the chief editor of the Korean Buddhist journal Sin Pulgyo (New Buddhism), wrote the opening editorial in the seventh issue. Titled “Th e Sino- Japanese War and Buddhists,” Han said that although “the outbreak of the war was unfortunate for the peace of the East and the world,” it was “inevitable because of the Chinese government’s misunderstanding of global situations and its unwarranted contempt on and the antagonism toward Japan.” He justifi ed Japan’s war against China as a last resort to punish China. Han continued to say that he was “grateful to see that [Japa nese] imperial soldiers are on the war path everywhere in the north and south of China” and that it was “the duty of our people in the home front . . . to pray for the safety of the soldiers.” At a 2004 conference on Han that took place in Manhae village in Korea, Korean scholar Ku Moryong commented on the perplexity of the article by saying, “[T]his article contains contents that are too striking to believe it was written by him.” Whether this was actually written by Han himself is perhaps debatable, but it should be noted that this article is included in the offi cial collection of Han’s writings. If the editorial is his, then it is another piece of evidence that the dominant interpretative theme in scholarship of nationalism and collaboration (or han’gil and ch’inil) has fundamental limitations in understanding and evaluating individuals. Th is writing, if true, proves that Han’s attitude toward the Japa nese colonial government was not fi xed but changed according to circumstances.

Returning to the matter of the Imjejong: Han was the drafter of the Imjejong’s prospectus, and he was nominated as a proxy representative at the sangha meeting at the Songgwang temple in Chflla Province. (Kim Kyfng’un was selected as the head monk, but, due to his old age, he asked Han to take his position.) Han and the Imjejong monks designated the

Songgwang temple as the great head temple of their new institution. Since most of the temples that joined the Imjejong movement were from the Honam area, among monks, the Imjejong was called the Southern faction (namdang), while the Wfnjong was called the Northern faction
(puktang), refl ecting the same geo graph i cal split in the Ch’an lineage in China. Aware that they appeared to be geo graph i cally identifi ed, the Imje monks strove to win over monks from other regions, especially those from eastern Korean, such as the T’ongdo, Haein, and Pfmf temples in the Kyfngsang area. However, the monks of these temples were reluctant to participate because the Songgwang temple in Chflla Province had already been designated as the great head temple, despite the fact that their temples were more powerful. Th at February, the three temples decided to join or convert from the Wfnjong to the Imjejong, but only after they were ensured of becoming major head temples in a power- sharing agreement. Th e Pfmf temple agreed to accept, on the condition that the Imjejong relocate the central religious offi ce from the Songgwang temple to that temple. Th ese demands refl ect the ways in which temples often acted to protect their own interests foremost, and also attest to internal competition among major temples in Korea over leadership.

At the same time, the very existence of these two modern, sectarian institutions, after the thirteen sects had been disestablished during the Chosfn period, refl ects the way in which Korean monks were changing and were serious about reforming Korean Buddhism. Th erefore, the emergence of the Imjejong presents one of the generative qualities of Korean monks, like Han, in the colonial period. In par tic u lar, Han’s experience in Japan convinced him to modernize Korean Buddhism by appropriating methods from Japa nese Buddhism. Although there was one group of Korean monks rejecting the alliance while another was endorsing it, both nevertheless had one thing in common: they considered Japa nese Buddhism, especially the Sōtōshū, as an ideal form that a modern Korean Buddhist institution, if ever established, should aim to emulate. In addition, just as Takeda and Yi promised to be apo liti cal, the

Imjejong also assured the colonial government that it would focus on religious works “without involving itself in politics at all [my emphasis].”
Th us, the emergence of the Imjejong should be understood not necessarily as an anti- Japanese movement but as a reform movement to formulate what monks then considered the true identity of Korean Buddhism.

Th E Concerns Of Other Sects

Th e Sōtō- Wfnjong attempted alliance shook not only Korean monks, but also vexed other sects whose priests had made similar but unsuccessful attempts to win Korean Buddhism over to their denomination. One of the fi rst responses to the deal came from the two branches of the Jōdoshinshū. Th ese branches strove to undermine Yi’s infl uence in Korean Buddhism by asserting publicly that Korean monastics affi liated with their own branches were far more infl uential and respected than Yi. A Nichiren missionary to Korea and reporter for the Nisshū shinpō,
Shimada Tōsui, sent a letter to an ardent supporter of the Nichiren’s mission to Korea, Akiyama Fumio, which was published in the Nisshū shinpō. “What needs special attention,” Shimada wrote, “is the instance that the Sōtōshū attempted to unify [take over] all of Korean Buddhism and is about to almost complete it [in collaboration with the Wfnjong].”
Half accusatory and half jealous, Shimada expressed his concerns to Akiyama, Ishikawa Sodō had advanced [the Sōtōshū’s infl uence] to Tsurumi [currently in Yokohama] [in 1907] and occupied Ikegami [a county in Tokyo, less than eight miles from Tsurumi] where the center of the Nichirenshū [the head temple Honmon- ji] is located. Th is time, he is again ahead [of the Nichirenshū] to make a move on [Korean Buddhism]. I should say this fellow [koitsu] is quite a person. What do you think?

Th e supervisor of the Rinzaishū’s missions to Korea, Furukawa, also responded. One and a half months after the Sōtō- Wonjong agreement, Furukawa sent a petition to the colonial government boldly requesting that it permit the Rinzaishū to take charge of all Korean temples. Furukawa was aware that the majority of Korean monks associated themselves with the Linchi tradition, the same tradition of his own sect, and to him it was unacceptable to see Korean Buddhism form an alliance with his direct rival the Sōtōshū.

Th e most bitter response, however, came from the Jōdoshū. Two weeks after the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement, the Jōdo kyōhō reported, “Th e exact terms of the Sōtōshū’s alliance treaty [with the Wfnjong] have not been made public, but if things progress favorably and draw good results, one could not help but call it a big success for the Sōtōshū. How would you, readers [Jōdo members], regard this news?” Th is half concerned and half wait- and- see response gradually turned into an explicit worry as things became clearer. A week later, on October 31, the Jōdo kyōhō reported, “Th e Sōtōshū’s bribery of Korean temples advances with surprising speed and it eff ectively outruns other Buddhist sects. Temples like T’ongdo used to be in the sphere of infl uence of the Jōdoshū and now, due to the Sōtōshū, it is overtaken and the very foundation [of the Jōdoshū in Korea] is overthrown.” It also criticized its headquarters’ meek response: “Th e Sōtōshū is making steady progress [in its missionary work in Korea]. . . . Th e general trend of religious sects truly heads toward Korea. Th e land of Keirin [an old name for Korea], in eff ect, has become the arena of competition among all religious sects and branches.

What about the prospects for our sect?” Whether the Jōdoshū pressured the colonial government to not recognize the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement is unclear. At the very least, the alliance prompted the Jōdoshū to make it

a major issue in its Congressional Meeting in 1910. Th e Jōdoshū wrestled to cope with the unexpected success of the Sōtōshū as it was becoming the leading rival in the market of propagation in Korea.

Sōtōshū’S Ambivalence

Th e reaction of the government, the Korean monks, and the Japa nese Buddhist sects aside, the most striking and baffl ing response came from within the Sōtōshū itself. In November 1910, a month after the agreement was reached, Hirotsu, who himself had signed the treaty and had kept frequent contact with Korean monks, including Han, downplayed the deal in a speech to Sōtōshū council members at their fourteenth Congressional Meeting.

Hirotsu gave a long pre sen ta tion to the council members about the Sōtōshū’s propagation activities. Like Takeda, he was deeply concerned about the aggressive activities of Christian missionaries in Korea, who had, he said, a yearly bud get of 2 million yen (for dramatic eff ect, he doubled the amount Takeda had originally reported) that they were pouring into building schools and converting Koreans. Th is money does not include, he said, the money sent from America on an ad hoc basis. While the Shinshū and the Nichirenshū did their best to propagate in Korea, the Sōtōshū lagged behind to the extent that, for instance in Inchfn, Sōtōshū parishioners changed to the Hōkkeshū (a branch of Nichiren Buddhism) because there was no Sōtōshū temple there.

Th en, as if he were revealing a top secret, Hirotsu brought up the Sōtōshū- Wfnjong alliance: “Although I am extending my speech a little bit, it is related to the Korean Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū mission in Korea. It could not be easily reported through the denominational journal because of surrounding circumstances.” Hirotsu then introduced the origin of the Wfnjong, which he said derived itself from the lineage of the Sixth Patriarch, and mentioned the visit of a Wfnjong representative some years ago, meaning in May 1908, right after the establishment of the Wfnjong. Hirotsu reported that, during a visit from Wfnjong monks, they investigated the system of the Sōtōshū and “intended to

establish a similar central religious offi ce like ours and to elect among their fellow monks a head priest.” Eventually, they planned to set up an in de pen dent institution modeled on the Sōtōshū. Hirotsu said that this plan “is the enthusiastic hope of those monks who play a central role.”
However, he told the Congress, “Th e Resident- General’s Offi ce did not approve it [the central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong]. As a result of the failure to win approval, the Wfnjong rushed to [the Sōtōshū] to seek assistance to help it accomplish this.” Hirotsu commented on the two assists, as discussed earlier, that the Sōtōshū had provided the Wfnjong. Th erefore, he thought that the Wfnjong felt favorably toward the Sōtōshū and thus wanted to ally itself with the Sōtōshū to promote Korean Buddhism. Hirotsu further revealed a crucial fact about the nature of the alliance and how the Wfnjong approached the Sōtōshū with a degree of aggressiveness. He stated,
[Th e Wfnjong] desires to ally [dōmei and rengō] with this side [the Sōtōshū] and to receive instruction on all matters in the future. Th e Wfnjong also wants to have its young ones [monks] receive an education [from the Sōtōshū]. In addition, [the Wfnjong says that] if the Sōtōshū intends to send priests for propagation to Korean temples that it would be benefi cial [to the priests] and that the Sōtōshū is welcome to use the temples.

It is apparent that Yi and Kim tried to entice the Sōtōshū in order to receive its institutional assistance. Hirotsu continued in detailing the potential alliance to the congress:
I [or the Sōtōshū] fi led these simple things [terms] into a document. But since this deal is contingent upon approval from both the central government and the colonial authorities, it [the deal] does not translate into a fi nal decision.

Anyway, a week after the deal, they [the Wfnjong] also had a meeting and then checked in with us to see whether there was anything it could do in consultation with the Sōtōshū [to see the agreement through].

Hirotsu’s comments further reveal that with respect to the potential alliance, the Wfnjong sought to push the agreement through while the

Sōtōshū was generally not as active. Th us, that the Wfnjong courted the Sōtōshū, rather than the other way around, challenges the assertion of historiography that the Sōtōshū acted aggressively to take over Korean Buddhism.

Even more strikingly, Hirotsu was not comfortable with the Wfnjong’s courtship and expressed baffl ement about the Wfnjong’s reason for preferring the Sōtōshū over others as its ally in the fi rst place:
Although the Korean temples use the name Wfnjong, they have inherited the lineage of Bodhidharma [e.g., a diff erent lineage than the Sōtōshū’s]. Despite this connection, they would not go to the Rinzaishū or Ōbakushū, but have come to the Sōtōshū. However, it is the intention of our central religious offi ce that in the future, we would like to guide and provide the Wfnjong with as much support as we could in the areas of education, preservation of temple properties, and all other matters. It is partly for the sake of the empire, the nation, and the emperor. Moreover, it is partly in order to reform at least one institution of Korea. For these reasons, it is our policy to provide as much help as we can.

Although he could explain why the Sōtōshū should help, he could not understand why Yi had chosen the Sōtōshū over the other two Zen sects. (Hirotsu might have had a similar suspicion when Han, who identifi ed himself as an Imje monk, came to him.) Th is is another piece of evidence that Yi and the Wfnjong were using the Sōtōshū strategically. Hirotsu was hesitant in the same way that the head priest Ishikawa had been on the fi rst day of negotiations with Yi Hoegwang in early October 1910.

Hirotsu was also reluctant to endorse the plan because of an unfortunate fact. Because of the centuries’- long persecution of Korean monks in the Chosfn dynasty, the social status of Korean monks was equivalent to the outcasts (eta) of the pre- Meiji period. Hirotsu assessed, “It is rather diffi cult to propagate by suddenly making use of Korean monks

and temples.” Th e Sōtōshū’s assistance to socially low Korean monks, he argued, would not be able to change Koreans’ negative perception of Korean monks “suddenly, in a matter of fi ve or ten years,” nor would it be able to elevate their status to be equal to that of Japa nese priests in the near term. Rather than relying on Korean monks for propagation to the Korean populace, Hirotsu proposed that it would be more eff ective to have young Sōtōshū priests learn the Korean language and be dispatched as Buddhist missionaries. (As he suggested, ten young priests were sent to Korea in 1911, and, after a year of learning Korean, they opened preaching centers.)
All things considered, Hirotsu reiterated that the Sōtōshū would still help the Wfnjong, which is “a mere institution in Korea.” He concluded that, nonetheless, “[f]or these reasons, I would like you to know that there will no benefi t or con ve nience for the Sōtōshū whatsoever.”
Th e denominational Congress members listening to Hirotsu’s speech did not question his stance on the matter, perhaps indicating their tacit agreement.

Th is was a surprising public statement. Hirotsu had been on friendly terms with a number of Korean monks. In 1908, he had arranged for Han Yong’un to study at Komazawa University with fi nancial aid and worked closely with Kim Yfnggi. He himself designed the treaty terms with Yi Hoegwang. Yet here he expressed doubts. Hirotsu was not alone: other administrators in the Sōtōshū were less than enthusiastic about working with Korean Buddhism. His comments shed light on why Yi and the Sōtōshū failed to come to an agreement on the fi rst day. Th ey also reveal that Takeda and the Sōtō administrators’ visions were incongruent with each other. Whereas Takeda (and the Jōdoshū!) believed that the Sōtōshū’s assistance to Korean monks would be benefi cial to the sectarian expansion of the Sōtōshū in Korea, Hirotsu and others considered associating with Korean monks deleterious to the Sōtōshū’s image and mission in Korea because Korean monks had an extremely low social status. Refl ecting this general sentiment, there was no manifest excitement on the part of Sōtō priests or the Sōtō media about the alliance.

Hirotsu’s low view of Korean monks was typical of the Japa nese attitude to Koreans during that period, and he might have tried to downplay the signifi cance of the deal to placate the concerns of other sects.

However, it is also important to know that upon institutional alliance, he had to worry about the image of his own sect in the eyes of the Japanese public and, most importantly, the Koreans his sect desired to convert. In the same way that Yi Hoegwang saw no benefi t from allying with the Sich’fn’gyo, which was less powerful than the Sōtōshū, neither did Hirotsu see benefi t from allying with the Wfnjong.

In fact, this was not the fi rst time that Sōtōshū administrators expressed ambivalence about working with Korean monks. At the eleventh Congressional Meeting three years previously, in December 1907, the head of educational aff airs, Arai Sekizen (1864– 1927), gave a long pre sen ta tion on the conditions of propagation in Korea and on the Sōtōshū’s future strategies to expand its sectarian control. He had a bleak view of Korean monks: “Th ere are innumerable Korean temples. . . . Regarding whether there is any way to even use them . . . monks in general are spiritless indeed and the Korean monks outside Seoul are considered in the same way plebeians [former outcasts] in Japan are thought of today. It is not possible to ally with such people for the sake of propagation in Korea.”
Leaders in other sects had similar views. For example, in 1907 the Shinshū Honganji- ha issued special instructions to its missionaries in Korea to not wear priestly robes but instead to wear Western suits to avoid being mistaken as Korean monks and harassed as a result. In another example, a Jōdo missionary to Korea, Ōtani Kiyonori, while talking about the best way to propagate the Jōdo teachings in Korea, expressed doubts about the eff ectiveness of educating Korean monks:
Even though some say that it will be eff ective to use the Korean temples as places for educating Korean monks, it is totally useless. It will just help attach the title of the Jōdoshū in front of their temple entrances and [as a result] only increase the number of [unqualifi ed Korean] monks. Korean temples have been merely symbolic. Th ey were hidden deep in the mountains and are by no means the places where our Jōdo teachings can be asserted. Monks are a group of beggars.

Th is editorial was published in the Jōdoshū denominational newspaper on November 4, 1910. Th e date indicates that Ōtani wrote it with knowledge of the Wfnjong- Sōtōshū deal. His stance may have been a way of minimizing worries that a Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance would mean the Sōtōshū would rise to power in Korea, thereby sidelining the missionary work of the Jōdoshū. But his statement also indicates that some Japa nese Buddhists did not see much utility in working with Korean temples and monastics to achieve sectarian expansion in Korea.

Th e Sōtōshū’s internal division surrounding the alliance contradicts how scholars have interpreted the Sōtōshū’s part in the deal. For example, taking for granted that all Japa nese Buddhist sects were eager to subjugate Korean Buddhism, Chfng Kwangho claims that Yi allowed “a reckless invasion of the Sōtōshū.” Th erefore, a retelling of this history must distinguish between Takeda’s position on the alliance and the Sōtōshū’s: they were not necessarily of one voice. One might even conclude that it was Takeda’s vision alone.

In sum, the Sōtōshū were ambivalent about associating with Korean monastics. Indeed, it appears that the Sōtō congressional delegates did not even follow up on the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement by creating a bud get that would fulfi ll the terms. On the one hand, they established relationships with Korean monks, driven in part by competition from other Japa nese sects and in part by the possibility of controlling Korean Buddhism. On the other hand, they feared that associating with such a low stratum of Korean society would undermine their own social status, thereby aff ecting the ability to convert other Koreans. In addition, they felt uncomfortable about the Wfnjong’s aggressive approach because of the Wfnjong’s closeness to the Rinzaishū and the Ōbakushū in terms of lineage. Moreover, as is evident from Hirotsu’s comments and the details of the terms of the agreement, the alliance’s purpose was not about the Sōtōshū taking over the Wfnjong in the fi rst place.

Th E Colonial Government Intervenes

In the end, the alliance never moved forward. Most scholars attribute the failure of the alliance to three factors. First, the newly formed Imjejong

was rallying a growing number of Korean monks to oppose the unequal terms of the agreement. Second, other Japa nese Buddhist sects, especially the Jōdoshū and Shinshū, were probably pressuring the government to obstruct approval of the agreement. As scholar Murano Kōken noted, the “jealousy and obstruction” (shisshi bōgai) of other sects might have caused the colonial government to give a cold response to the alliance. Th ird, everyone knew that Takeda, the major force behind the alliance, would soon pass away. Takeda’s friendship with GovernorGeneral Terauchi was one of the reasons that Yi and the Sōtōshū thought approval of the Wfnjong from his offi ce had any chance of success. Terauchi, who was well aware of Takeda’s contributions to Japan’s annexation of Korea, did not want to oppose Takeda. Takahashi says that if Takeda had lived, he would have accomplished the plan. But as this chapter has argued, a fourth relevant factor should be added: the Sōtōshū’s ambivalence about the whole project may have prevented it from making a concerted eff ort to move approval forward for the Wfnjong or the agreement.

However, what really put an end to the Wfnjong’s hopes of allying with the Sōtōshū was the promulgation of the 1911 Temple Ordinance.

Even if the four factors working against the alliance— Korean Buddhism’s internal division, the opposition of Japa nese sects, Takeda’s death, and the Sōtōshū’s reluctance— had somehow been magically resolved, the alliance never stood a chance in the face of the government’s crackdown on religion in Korea. Th e colonial government began working on laws regulating religion and propagation well before the October 1910 alliance meeting in Tokyo. Th e drafter of the ordinance, Yamagata Isaburō, who had served under Itō when Korea was Japan’s protectorate, started to work on it right after the establishment of the colonial government in August of that year. Th is may explain why the colonial government was so unresponsive to petitions from Yi, Takeda, and Wakō:

they knew that in the near future Japa nese and Korean Buddhists would no longer have the legal grounds on which to form alliances.

In fact, it was this very competition among sects to capture the greatest number of temples and monastics that prompted the colonial government to step in. As with the 1906 Regulations, a primary cause for the promulgation of the 1911 ordinance was fi ghting among sects to take control of Korean Buddhism for themselves. Th e colonial government did not want any sect to meddle with Korean Buddhism, which owned over twelve hundred temples, had over eight thousand monastics, and had vast holdings of arable lands and forests. Rather, the colonial government itself would be Korean Buddhism’s overseer. Th e governorgeneral, “as a direct appointee of the emperor,” possessed tremendous power in de pen dent of the homeland government, making the involvement of Japa nese Buddhist sects in the aff airs of Korean temples a nuisance. Th erefore, the promulgation of a temple ordinance to exclude Japa nese Buddhist sects from any administrative involvement was a natural result of the colonial government establishing its fi rm control over Korea. For this reason, although the Home Ministry in Japan gave tacit approval to Ishikawa for the alliance deal, it was ineff ectual when it came to the matters in colonial Korea where the “humorless” Governor- General Terauchi was in full charge.

While the Sōtō- Wfnjong contract was not the direct cause of the 1911 ordinance, it did clearly speed up its promulgation. Having Korean Buddhism split into two, between the Wfnjong and the Imjejong, over the alliance was not good news for the fl edging colonial government, especially when its control over Korea was shaky just after annexation. Th e growing discomfort from other sects that the Sōtōshū would be the ultimate winner in the battle to control Korean Buddhism must have hastened the government to simply end any chance for any sect. But, since the ordinance was the primary end to the alliance, then the Wfnjong’s leading opponent, Han Yong’un, was clearly exaggerating when, in 1931, he refl ected that “it was crystal clear that the colonial government would have approved the contract [between the Sōtōshū and the Wfnjong]”

unless Han himself had not intervened. Th e Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance was doomed to fail anyway, although the Imjejong’s opposition was a factor that hastened its end.

A number of public comments from Terauchi in early 1911 indicate that he was preparing Japa nese and Korean Buddhists to expect that the government would soon be regulating Korean Buddhism in par tic u lar and religious propagation in general. In the Chūgai nippō, Terauchi was quoted as saying that Japa nese Buddhist sects should be “passive” in their propagation “for at least one to two years.” It was because the situation in Korea is unstable, he said, and the government needed time to get things under control. Terauchi’s comments are also an evaluation of Itō’s religious policies, which he felt had “rather resulted in an ill eff ect.” He added that competition among Japa nese Buddhist sects might jeopardize establishing control in colonial Korea. Th en Terauchi was said to have made a sharp comment about Japa nese Buddhist missionary work so far: he said that it had not been successful and that the colonial government had reason to not provide assistance to Japa nese Buddhist missionaries. At the end of this article, Terauchi indicated that he was in touch with a Buddhist sect about the colonial government’s intentions. Th is sect might have been the Sōtōshū, and it can be assumed that Terauchi was communicating with the Sōtōshū to let them know that the alliance would not be possible. Perhaps Terauchi’s generous support of the Sōtōshū throughout the 1910s might have been a way of making amends with the Sōtōshū.

Anticipating that Terauchi would soon hand down strict religious policies, the Chūgai nippō delivered a series of critical editorials, such as the following:
Abusing his right for issuing regulations . . . Terauchi, at an early date, is planning to promulgate the regulations on propagation of religion and to have all religious sects report religious creeds and propagation methods. It is said that Th e Wfnjong and Sōtōshū’s Attempted Alliance 279 he will prohibit some aspects of propagation. It is a stunning and daring act that he will allow or prohibit propagation by evaluating religious creeds. How on earth can religious teachings be judged by a lay offi cial who lacks learning and knowledge [of them].

[ . . . ]
Greatly insulting religious leaders . . . religions are being regulated by fellows who know nothing about religious wisdom and the conditions of religious leaders.

[ . . . ]
[Th e colonial government] deeply insults religions.

However, these criticisms, among others, did little to dissuade the colonial government from issuing the temple ordinance, which it believed would rectify the ill eff ects of Itō’s religious policies. Th e colonial government also felt the temple ordinance would prevent any further instability caused by the attempts of Japa nese Buddhist sects, starting from the Nichirenshū, the Jōdoshū, the Ōtani- ha, and the Honganji- ha, and ending with the Sōtōshū, to take control over Korean temples.

For Korean Buddhism, the temple ordinance was both a curse and a blessing. Under the strict control of the colonial government, Korean Buddhism did not possess much administrative latitude, becoming an apparatus of a foreign government. But the temple ordinance also gave Korean Buddhism state recognition and an arena of its own such that it could develop itself in de pen dent of the control of Japa nese Buddhist sects (discussed in Chapter 7).

Conclusion

Previous scholarship has described the Sōtō- Wfnjong agreement in a simplistic way as the collusion between opportunistic Yi and conniving Takeda. Such conventional narratives do not account for the complex relationships among groups and individuals with converging and diverging needs. Yi, Kim, and the Wfnjong monks were not passive recipients of Takeda’s views, but they appropriated his infl uence and the Sōtōshū’s

clout for the Wfnjong’s cause. When all of their attempts to acquire approval failed, they considered the strategic alliance with the Sōtōshū as a last resort. Th ey became more desperate when, with annexation, the colonial government ordered all po liti cal organizations to be dissolved, with the Ilchinhoe being the fi rst victim. In addition, the demise of the Korean government left the fl edging colonial government as the only state authority that the Wfnjong could deal with. Uncertainty about how to play this new game in the changed po liti cal structure led Yi and the Wfnjong to turn to the Sōtōshū.

Th e shift of po liti cal structure upon annexation also changed Takeda’s strategies for the Wfnjong’s cause. Instead of working as equals, he could now take greater liberties to impose a Japa nese Buddhist authority over Korean Buddhism. He believed that Korean Buddhism would be much better off under the Sōtōshū, just as Korea would be much better off under Japan’s rule. But annexation of the Wfnjong by the Sōtōshū was not Yi’s plan: his priority was to receive approval of the Wfnjong and its central offi ce. His confi dence that the Wfnjong would retain autonomy caused him not to disclose the terms of the contract to Korean monks.

Unlike Takeda, the Sōtōshū was not favorable to the idea of alliance in the fi rst place. Th eir sectarian vision was diff erent from that of other sects: for example, the Ōtani- ha and the Honganji- ha attempted to actively engage with and convert Korean monks. From the perspective of the Sōtōshū, the gap of social and po liti cal capital between it and the Wfnjong was so wide that it did not foresee acquiring any benefi t by associating with Korean monks, despite reaching an agreement benefi cial to itself.

Nevertheless, once the alliance became public, it disturbed the religious and po liti cal fi elds in Korea and Japan. A new faction in Korean Buddhism arose and the colonial authorities intervened. Th e Imjejong, in order to thwart the Wfnjong and dominate Korean Buddhism, had to follow the rules of the game that the new po liti cal and religious fi elds required. Th ey identifi ed the Imjejong as apo liti cal, a-superstitious, and modern, and quickly petitioned the colonial government to approve

their sect before the Wfnjong could become a legitimate institution. As Bourdieu describes of social actors and groups who disagree in everything but who consider it worthwhile to wrestle in the fi eld, they “disagree with one another, but they at least agree about the object of disagreement.” Both sects, the Imjejong and the Wfnjong, had “a hidden, tacit accord” to pursue the same goal: to control Korean Buddhism.

167. Bourdieu, Practical Reason, 78.

Chapter 7 Th E Alliance’S Failure And The 1911 Temple Ordinance

Disconcerted by the spate of bad news, particularly the split of Korean Buddhism into two sects, the lack of the Sōtōshū’s enthusiasm, challenges from other sects, and a cold shoulder from the colonial government, Takeda ramped up his eff orts to push the alliance through. In February 1911, four months after the alliance deal and four months before his death, he undertook a writing project amid his illness to persuade all the groups and individuals who were, in his eyes, not aware of the true importance of the alliance. Within two months, Takeda completed his Treatise on the Six Truths for the Wfnjong (Enshū rokutai ron).

With his book distributed to the governor- general, Sōtōshū high priests, Wfnjong monks, and other colonial offi cials, Takeda believed that the alliance would be pushed through.

However, Takeda had overlooked several crucial factors. Not only did Takeda misread the intentions behind the colonial government’s religious policies but he also failed to realize how little enthusiasm there was among the Sōtōshū administrators for the alliance. Equally importantly, he underestimated the crippling eff ects of an important feature of Korean Buddhism: Korean monks were split into multiple factions with multiple interests, making it nearly impossible for them to unify, especially under the leadership of any single Japa nese sect. He did not suffi –
ciently take into account that, in the wake of the disappearance of their own state, Yi Hoegwang, Wfnjong monks, some Imje monks, and unaffi liated monks shifted their alliances to whomever they considered the most useful for their goals. Th ey used Japa nese Buddhist sects to secure social and po liti cal capital. Korean Buddhism unifi ed, rather forcefully, only after the 1911 Temple Ordinance was promulgated and enforced by colonial authorities by 1912.

Th is chapter covers the history of period from 1911 to 1912: Takeda’s fi nal treatise, the demise of the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance, factionalism in Korean Buddhism, the promulgation and enforcement of the 1911 Temple Ordinance, and the paradigm shift caused by the ordinance.

Takeda’S Treatise Last Letters

A day after the alliance agreement was reached between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū, Takeda returned to Japan for laryngeal cancer treatment but stayed in touch with Yi Hoegwang and the Sōtōshū through letters. Despite his illness, he desired to continue to be a key player as events surrounding the alliance unfolded. Takeda sent copies of the fi nal draft of his treatise, along with cover letters, to Terauchi Masatake, Yi Yonggu, Song Pyfngjun, Hirotsu Sessan, Oda Setsugan, and other administrative priests in his sect in the hope of drumming up support for the alliance. He further distributed his book to government offi cials, Sōtōshū priests, and Wfnjong monastics. However, at this point, Terauchi was the person who held the key to the fate of the deal between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū, particularly because he had the power to bypass Japan’s home government. Takeda was aware of the level of Terauchi’s power.

In a letter to Terauchi dated March 20, 1911, Takeda wrote:
Th e Sōtōshū is not well aware of the situation in Korea [and Korean Buddhism] and Korean monks are unaware of current matters in society; many of them have never even heard of the name of the Sōtōshū. Th erefore, in order to explain where the Sōtōshū is placed in Japa nese Buddhism and to eliminate the doubts of Korean monks, I have written this book.

Th is paragraph suggests that Takeda was frustrated with the Sōtōshū’s lack of support for the alliance. In addition, he was also deeply disturbed by a growing number of Korean monks who, despite the support from

the abbots of major Korean temples, opposed the alliance. Th us, Takeda was explaining his major reasons for writing the book: to convince both the Sōtōshū and the Korean monks that they need to know the signifi –
cance of this alliance and work together to make it happen. Takeda was also implying that the colonial government, and Terauchi, may not have been aware of the whole context of the contract, and that he has written this treatise to orient the fl edging colonial government in its new duties. To add weight to his book, Takeda stressed that the book, “although written by me, will be endorsed by the two head priests [of the Sōtōshū]
and by Song Pyfngjun [the former Ilchinhoe’s leader] before publication.”
Takeda was telling Terauchi that the treatise was not just about Takeda’s personal views but was also the voice of the Sōtōshū and Korean Buddhist leadership. Th erefore, it was something to take seriously.

Takeda sent letters to Sōtō secretaries Oda and Hirotsu at the same time as he did to Terauchi. He requested that the two Sōtōshū administrators acquire endorsements from important Sōtōshū priests to give the book more legitimacy:
I asked Song Pyfngjun to receive the four [Chinese] characters “gensan yūka“
[translated as “miraculously profound transformation”] from Prince Yi [aka Yfngch’in] and I think it seems like he is willing to write it. If some old aristocrats or somebody like the President of Komazawa University could write a preface, it will be of great help. And if we could get Master [Hioki] Mokuzen’s preface, it will be welcomed by the [Korean] monks of such important temples as T’ongdo and Pfmf.

Takeda considered the endorsements from those who have social and po liti cal infl uence and who had some relationships with Korean Buddhism or monks as the most eff ective way to garner support from the Korean monks who object to the alliance, and to apply indirect pressure to Terauchi. He believed that the calligraphy of the ruler of Korea, though he was simply a fi gurehead at this point, would make the treatise state- sanctioned and thus fully legitimate in the eyes of Korean monks

and Terauchi. (To Takeda’s delight, thanks to Song’s eff ort, Prince Yi eventually wrote the phrase that was illustrated on the front page of Takeda’s treatise.) A preface from the president of Komazawa University, who had provided scholarships for Korean monks, would rally further support among those benefi ciaries, such as Han Yong’un, Kim Yf-nggi, and others who should be, in Takeda’s opinion, aware of the high standing of the Sōtōshū in Japan. Words from Hioki— a respected Sōtō master who visited the two major Korean monasteries in 1907 and gave a special talk before over two hundred monastics— would also give Takeda’s treatise greater authority.

Takeda also inquired with the Sōtō administrators as to where the alliance agreement stood: “I am just wondering how the follow- up of the alliance [fuzoku rengō] is coming along. . . . Th e thirteen provinces [of Korean Buddhism] seem to have split into chaos and my four- year eff ort might end in vain. Hence, while enduring my illness, I have drafted a Treatise on the Six Truths for the Wfnjong, which is approximately fi fteen thousand words long.” In this letter, Takeda for the fi rst time in any of his writing used the term fuzoku (annexation and absorption), a term that had been suggested by Ishikawa and Hirotsu at the fi rst meeting but eliminated upon Yi and Kim’s protest. Over the previous four years, Takeda had taken great care to appear as a neutral broker in his work with the Wfnjong and his own sect. Takeda’s shift from this in de pendent role to an outright pro- Sōtōshū position occurs parallel to Japan’s annexation of Korea. However, he only used the term fuzoku in the letter to his Sōtōshū colleagues, not in the treatise, since Korean monks were meant to read it, as well. Nowhere in the fi nal alliance draft was the term fuzoku mentioned, nor did Yi and Kim believe that the contract was made with that assumption. Th is indicates that Takeda considered the deal as a subordinate alliance, while Kim and Yi saw the contract as an alliance of equals to which Ishikawa and Hirotsu had reluctantly complied.

After giving detailed instructions on how to publish and distribute the book to the Sōtō administrators, Takeda continued,

I think it is necessary for this book to be distributed to each department of the colonial government and the provincial governors. Five hundred copies, which will not be for sale, should be [distributed as follows]: three hundred should be sent to temples and a hundred to the colonial government. Fifty copies will be kept by me for later direct mailing. Th e Sōtōshū central religious offi ce will keep the last fi fty copies for later use.

Takeda wished to see this treatise end up in the hands of both the primary and secondary players. Strikingly, he desired his treatise to be delivered even to the provincial governors of colonial Korea, as if to make a nationwide declaration on the legitimacy and urgency of the alliance.

He also sent a letter to Yi Yonggu, informing him of his upcoming treatise. “Although I already resigned as the Wfnjong’s advisor,” Takeda wrote, “I could not just [passively] look on at the current situation. Enduring excruciating pain, I have just completed a manuscript. I beg you to pass it around after you have fi nished reading it.” (Takeda wrote this letter without knowing that Yi Yonggu had previously sounded out Yi Hoegwang about forming an institutional alliance between the Wfnjong and the Sich’fn’gyo.) Unlike his colleagues in the Sōtōshū, Takeda made an all- out eff ort, using every last bit of his po liti cal and social capital to move the alliance along.

Final Treatise: Ensh Rokutai Ron

In Treatise, Takeda articulated his doctrinal, historical, and institutional justifi cations for the Sōtō- Wongjong alliance. Th e unabbreviated title of the treatise provides a clearer picture of Takeda’s intentions: With Sōtōshū Above and Rinzai Below, the Six Truths to Revitalize the Wfnjong (Tōjō saike kōryū Enshū dai ui rokutai ron). “Sōtōshū above and Rinzai below” explicitly means that while the Wfnjong (Rinzai) would ally itself with the Sōtōshū, the alliance would not be one of equals. Th is is quite diff erent from what Yi Hoegwang and Kim Yfnggi pushed for. Rather, in this treatise, the Sōtōshū would clearly have the upper hand, if not signifi –
cant authority and control. Th e Six Truths were Takeda’s program on how to restore and modernize Korean Buddhism through the alliance.

Yet, though the Sōtōshū would dominate the Wfnjong, Takeda did not mean for the Wfnjong to simply dissolve itself and lose its identity to the Sōtōshū. Rather, he had just the opposite in mind: the Wfnjong would be revitalized and its identity consolidated through the support of a more resourceful and institutionally mature partner.

First and foremost, Takeda presented three conditions for appraising the Sōtō- Wfngjong alliance: the conditions for the right time, the right place, and the right level of recipients. Expectedly, Takeda claimed now was the perfect time to recover the glory of Silla and Koryf Buddhism by allying the Wfnjong with the Sōtōshū. Th e time was right because the Kakhwang temple, as Takeda had long wished, was fi nally completed in late 1910. Th e temple was located in the center of Seoul, the place where Buddhist monks had been denied entry for centuries. Takeda said that the Wfnjong had not gotten approval by the residents- general
(in the pre- annexation period) because it had not been the right time for admission. In addition, Takeda maintained that the “right level” had been achieved because through annexation Korea and Japan had become one house under one emperor. Without realizing that the colonial government would be as equally reluctant to his idea as the protectorate government was, Takeda was convinced that all the necessary internal and external conditions were in place such that Terauchi would agree with his logic and the alliance would proceed.

As if writing a canonical Buddhist text, a clear eff ort to make his points more authoritative and authentic, Takeda or ga nized the treatise into six sections symbolizing the six perfections in Buddhist practice, each of which was centered on one of the six truths:
1) Make harmony the unifying principle of the body. 2) Since unity is power, there should be no division. 3) Education is power: be neither old nor new. 4) Create assets for use; preserve them carefully for the future. 5) Elevate yourselves to become the teacher of the king. 6) Move freely between the two realms so that the six perfections will be limitless.

Th ese six truths are cryptic at fi rst, fi lled with doctrinal and philosophical references, to the extent that scholar Nakamura Hajime wrongly characterized them as “completely ecumenical,” meaning trans- sectarian and universal. But, in the unfolded meaning of each, Takeda did in fact build his argument for the appropriateness of the alliance.

Harmony As Principle

Th is fi rst truth dealt with harmony, to highlight what Korean Buddhism was lacking. Takeda began with one of Buddhism’s fundamental teachings, the unity of the sangha. Th e unity of the sangha creates a concerted authority for controlling and administering internal religious matters eff ectively. Takeda lamented that Korean Buddhism lacked this unity, and he attributed this to fi ve diffi culties.

First was the diffi culty in discipline. He gives as examples the Crusaders and the Salvation Army, which were well or ga nized and administered through strict discipline. In contrast, Korean Buddhism lacked discipline. Takeda’s view of Korean Buddhism mirrored the broadly held Japa nese belief that annexation was necessary to impose order on Korea. As Korean historian Chulwoo Lee observes, the colonial government’s mission was “to establish order and implement discipline.” Takeda thought that for Korean Buddhism to be revitalized it needed the implementation of a head- priest system through the Wfnjong, a requirement that Takeda had consistently underscored in his earlier petitions to the residents- general and Korean authorities.

Th e second diffi culty Korean Buddhism faced was the threat of Christianity, a point Takeda per sis tent ly raised in earlier writings. He argued that Christianity was fundamentally diff erent from “our religion,” but at the same time he stated that the Christian God was nothing more than one god in the Buddhist pantheon, one on his way to enlightenment. Despite this accommodation, the emergence of Christianity in the East made Takeda “sad, since it will serve to make evil strong, the true

dharma weak, and falsehood block the [true] way.” He wrote, “First, it [Christianity] will deceive our minds with evil preaching, blind our eyes with seductive garrulity, and later destroy our country with iron fi re
[military weapons].” Like other Buddhist missionaries, he identifi ed Christianity with Western imperialism, failing to recognize that many Chinese and Koreans identifi ed Japa nese Buddhism with imperialism as well. Takeda acknowledged that international countries protected Christianity and that “it is not possible to ban the religion.” Th erefore, to counter this “evil religion,” Buddhism should be strengthened, and this strengthening will come about in part by joining the Sōtōshū and the Korean Wfnjong together.

Th e third challenge to Korean Buddhism were threats from the inside, by which Takeda meant the greediness of Japa nese Buddhist sects, especially the Ōtani- ha, the Honganji- ha, and the Jōdoshū, which “are just vying to acquire the right for control [of Korean temples].” As mentioned in the previous chapter, Takeda implored, “Did Japa nese Buddhist missionaries come to Korea to save the Korean people or to steal Korean temples?” He wrote that, though each Buddhist sect was diff erent, they were all part of one Buddhism; they should respect each other and should not have “ulterior motives” that would cause discord. But he blamed the sectarian competition partly on Korean monks’ lack of unity. “Korean monks should be primarily responsible for this rivalry,” he claimed, because Korean temples picked and chose diff erent Japa nese sects at random. Th us, when the Wfnjong allied with the Sōtōshū it would have the eff ect of strengthening and thereby unifying Korean Buddhism. A unifi ed Korean Buddhism, Takeda assured, would reduce sectarian infi ghting among the Japa nese Buddhist sects.

Th e fourth diffi culty was elevating the status of Korean monks, and the fi fth was the diffi culty in propagating to the commoner. Th e centuries- long marginalization of Korean Buddhism made monks “rag pickers.” But while a commoner in Korea who suff ered from fi fty years of corrupt and exploitative regimes could recover “in ten years,” wrote

Takeda, the fi ve hundred years of persecution of Korean monks could not be mended even through “fi fty years of determined eff ort.” Takeda reiterated a similar concern that the Sōtō administrators had in understanding the merits of an alliance for the Sōtōshū, but he suggested that the alliance would surely resolve this problem.

In sum, overcoming these diffi culties to shape Korean Buddhism into a modernized, unifi ed, and disciplined body required support from the Sōtōshū.

Unity Is Power

With the depressing situation of Korean monks suffi ciently laid out, Takeda then provided four considerations that Korean monks should use to choose the best ally: the lineage, the doctrine, the dissimilarity of the tradition, and the similarity of the tradition. Based on these, Takeda intended to reduce the Wfnjong’s options down to one— his own sect.

In terms of lineage, Takeda said that every branch of Buddhism was the same and could be traced back to the Buddha: “One dharma light had been transmitted to ten thousand lights, resulting in ten thousand monks and ten thousand schools.” Yet, despite the multitude of lineages, no lineage was confused about its own heritage; it was like being connected by a thread. Korean Buddhism, Takeda said, has the only dharma lineage derived from Sekishitsu Seigū (Sfksil Ch’fnggong or Shishi Chinggong [1272– 1352]), the eigh teenth disciple of Linchi. Takeda’s claim was based on the belief held by most Korean monks, including Yi Hoegwang and Han Yong’un, that T’aego Pou (1301– 1382), a Sfn master during the Koryf dynasty, who inherited the dharma lineage directly from Sekishitsu and offi cially transmitted Sfn from China to Korea.

Th erefore, Korean monks should respect their found er like a child respects his parents and should abide by their own tradition. “Even a small amount of foreign material will make the milk undrinkable,” reminded Takeda, implying that the Wfnjong’s alliance with a sect that does not share the same lineage adulterates the purity of the tradition.

Because diff erent lineages have the same roots means that teachings and doctrines will be similar. For example, Sekishitsu’s hush, Tokuzan’s mu, Rinzai’s katsu, Unmon’s stick, Nanzen’s killing a kitten, and Gyōsan’s breaking a vase are all emblematic koan from the Zen tradition, which these branches shared as a root. To clarify that Korean Buddhism is not only Sfn, Takeda acknowledged that Korea had, at one time, a vibrant tradition of sutra study. He named a number of great scholar monks in Korea— Wfnhyo (617– 686), Uisang (625– 702), and Ch’egwan
(d. 971)— who developed a strong scholarly tradition. He also mentioned the Koryf Taejanggyfng (Buddhist canon) and Ch’egwan’s Fourfold Teachings of Tientai (Ch’ fnt’ae sagyogi). Nevertheless, writes Takeda, because of the persecution of Buddhism during the Chosfn period, the study tradition largely disappeared, and the only tradition left was the Sekishitsu branch of Sfn. Totally isolated with merely fi ve thousand monks and nuns (in fact, there were almost eight thousand at the time),
Korean Buddhism cannot regain its old power on its own, Takeda concluded. Th erefore, the Wfnjong monks should choose another Buddhist lineage that both shared the similarity of the tradition and had signifi –
cant social and po liti cal power. Since both the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū are from the Sfn tradition, and since the Sōtōshū is a powerful sect, “the Sōtōshū above and the Wfnjong below [should] be unifi ed into one body.” Takeda placed the Sōtōshū “above” the Wfnjong because it was larger and stronger. His elaboration on lineage and doctrines belied his constant resort to power as the justifi cation for the Wfnjong’s dependence on the Sōtōshū.

In this pro cess of selection, Takeda wrote that the Kegon, Tendai, Shingon, and Jōdoshūs in Japan were excluded from consideration for Korean Buddhists due to their diff erences in doctrines and lineages. Hence, the candidates for protecting Korean Buddhism came down to just three sects in Japan that shared a Sfn heritage: Sōtō, Rinzai, and Ōbaku. Now, Takeda took up the dissimilarities of sects to justify eliminating the Rinzaishū and Ōbakushū so that the Sōtōshū was the only

remaining candidate. He consented to the idea that all three Zen lineages could be potential candidates for an alliance. However, “[t]he Wfnjong should receive the Sōtōshū’s control,” because, in terms of lineage, the Sōtōshū was the direct descendent of the sixth patriarch, Sōkei Enō (Caoxi Huineng, 637– 713), while the Sekishitsu lineage was derived from a branch lineage founded by Nangaku (Nanyue Huairang, 677–
744). Th us, Takeda categorized the Korean Sfn tradition (Wfnjong) as an indirect descendant of Sfn’s found er, while the Sōtōshū was the direct descendent (making the Sōtōshū an uncle to the Wfnjong). Hence, Takeda maintained, “As one of the branches, [Korean Buddhism] should depend on the root to consolidate its own position.”
However, Takeda’s hierarchical arrangement of both lineages was amiss and a failing argument. First of all, it is true that the Korean Sfn tradition was founded by Sekishitsu, the eigh teenth master of the Rinzai lineage. Yet, Nanyue, who was Sekishitsu’s ancestor, was also a direct descendent of the sixth patriarch, as was one of the found ers of the Sōtōshū, Seigen Gyōshi (?– 740). Th us, Korean Sfn was as much a direct descendant of the sixth patriarch as Japa nese Zen is. If anything, it was the Rinzai, not the Sōtō, that had a greater claim to primacy, since it was established slightly earlier. Takeda provided an unusual and rather forceful reconfi guration of Zen history in order to place Sōtō over Rinzai.

Th is argument could also partly have been a response to Hirotsu’s and others’ puzzlement about the Wfnjong’s choice of the Sōtōshū, since neither shared the same lineage. By redefi ning the Zen lineage, Takeda attempted to eliminate the suspicion of a loose connection between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū and to change the lackluster attitude of Sōtō administrators, especially Hirotsu, to this alliance. Hirotsu and Takeda diff ered even in their understanding of Zen lineage.

As mentioned earlier, the lineage as a seemingly central point notwithstanding, the most decisive factor for Takeda were diff erences among sects in levels of power, discipline, and control. He was cognizant

of the fact that, in terms of size, the Jōdoshinshū (the Ōtani- ha and the Honganji- ha included) would come fi rst: it had 19,630 temples and 15,676 priests. Th e Sōtōshū was the only sect comparable to it, but it had smaller numbers, with 14,231 temples and 11,736 priests. Nevertheless, the major diff erence between them was not just number but the level of the concentration of power and control, which, to Takeda, was crucial to promulgating modern religion. Th e fact that the Jōdoshinshū (the Ōtani- ha and the Honganji- ha combined) comprised ten factions with ten diff erent head priests weakened its institutional power and discipline, whereas the Sōtōshū had just one head priest in full command of all the temples and priests. Th e other two Zen sects, the Rinzaishū and Ōbaku sects, were not even near the Sōtōshū in terms of numbers, unity, and discipline. Takeda dismissed the Rinzaishū and Ōbakushū: “Even though, with 6,123 temples and 4,313 priests, the Rinzaishū should have a close affi nity to the Wfnjong, it has ten head priests, which makes the institutional power of it just one- tenth that of the Sōtōshū. Th e Ōbakushū, albeit having just one head monk, owns [a] mere 556 temples and has just 363 priests.”
Despite his laborious attempt to dissociate the Korean Buddhist tradition with the Rinzaishū, Takeda himself acknowledged that the Rinzai would be a natural candidate for the Wfnjong. He was aware that most Korean monks at the time considered themselves descendents of the Imje traditions. But his focus was taken over by discerning the power diff erential among these Zen sects. He compared the traditions

by contrasting the number of modern facilities that each owned. Whereas the Rinzaishū and the Ōbakushū possessed just meditation halls, the Sōtōshū owned small, medium, and large schools. Komazawa University had 218 students; the Sōtōshū also owned a fi rst- level middle school with 152 students, a second level with 137, a third with 253, and a fourth with 178. It also owned 68 meditation halls. Takeda concluded, “Th ey [the other sects] have few [facilities] and we have many.” He further argued,
“If [the Wfnjong monks] follow ten factions, the Wfnjong will defi –
nitely perish.” Th erefore, “it is desirable that the Sōtōshū along with the Sekishitsu branch [Wfnjong] should unite together and reinvigorate Silla and Koryf Buddhism.” But, Takeda did not mean they should
“unite” as equals. Rather, “[w]ith the Sōtōshū above and the Rinzai
[Wfnjong] below, together they will promote the Wfnjong.” Although Takeda avoided using the word annexation (fuzoku), which he felt free to use in his letter to peers at the Sōtōshū headquarters, he implied as much by clarifying that the relationship between the Sōtōshū and the Wfnjong was “above and below.”
Th e phrase “Rinzai below,” used in a number of places, was intended to send three subtle but interrelated messages. First, Takeda was trying to put the Imjejong in its place. By placing the Imjejong as below, he hoped that they would capitulate to being brought under the sect above it by accepting the alliance. Second, by placing the Rinzai under the Sōtōshū, Takeda hoped that the Imjejong and the Wfnjong, both Rinzai, would unite with each other under the “stronger” tradition. In this way, the Sōtōshū could act as a “big brother.” Th ird, Takeda devalued the Rinzaishū in Japan as a way of convincing Yi Hoegwang not to pursue an alliance with them. Takeda must have been aware that Furukawa was attempting to bring Korean Buddhism under the sphere of the infl uence of the Rinzaishū. Th us, Takeda sought to preempt a potential alliance between the Imjejong and the Rinzaishū, which would have presented a major challenge to the Sōtōshū and Wfnjong.

Takeda’s worldview, centered on power and discipline, represented the trend of his time, to argue matters on the basis of power politics and

more specifi cally on Darwinian principles. Yet, while Takeda touted Japan and Japa nese Buddhism as exemplars of modernity, his desire to justify the Wfnjong’s choice of the Sōtōshū forced him to distance the Sōtōshū from other Japa nese Buddhist sects. By proclaiming the limitations of these other sects, Takeda undermined his earlier claim on Japanese Buddhism’s superiority.

Education Is Power

In line with the contemporary trend that education forms the modern person, Takeda discussed the necessity of education for Korean monks. He put forth that monks’ education should consist of three teachings, which ran parallel to the Standards of the Th ree Teachings of the Meiji government. Th ey were the true belief in cause and eff ect (karma); the strict observance of precepts (vinaya); and the deep appreciation of gratitude. Th e third teaching consisted of four gratitudes (shion): the appreciation of the ruler, of parents, of sentient beings, and of the three jewels of the dharma. But Takeda said that this education would not be able to happen without the alliance occurring fi rst.

To persuade the reader, Takeda complained about the fact that, while trying to improve themselves through education, Korean monks still quarantined themselves deep in the mountains, making it hard for them to catch up on fi ve hundred years of marginalization. Th is isolation, he argued, would perpetuate the social status of monks as one of the seven lowest. What should they do? Takeda’s answer was clear and fi rm: seek help from the Sōtōshū. Why? Th e following passage argued, Th e Sōtōshū has approximately 14,231 temples and roughly two million parishioners! Even though there are diff erences in wealth among them, there are many eminent aristocrats and rich businesspersons at the top and landed gentry at the bottom. When the head temple Sōji- ji was burned down [in 1898],
branch temples decided to rebuild it with three million yen. Th is demonstrates the economic power of the Sōtōshū. Why would all these assets not also be the Wfnjong’s? . . . As it says in the Book of Poetry, if brothers are in danger, even though there are good friends, they are not comparable to siblings. Th erefore, the Sōtōshū is a big brother and the Wfnjong is a little brother [my emphasis].

33. Ibid., 13. 296 The Alliance’S Failure And The 1911 Temple Ordinance

Takeda used economic and or gan i za tion al incentives to coax Korean monks to come into the sphere of the Sōtōshū. But, as he held out this carrot, he followed it with a stick. “Don’t forget that you [the Wfnjong monks] already made a treaty with the Sōtōshū.” Formalizing relationships through contracts and treaties was a relatively new procedure in East Asia, and Meiji aggrandizers used legal terms as, in Alexis Dudden’s words, “a performative discourse” to legitimize colonial rule. Takeda drew on the weight of that discourse to put pressure on the Imjejong monks to honor the contract, even though, in reality, there was not much of a legal basis for it, since the agreement did not yet carry the state’s recognition.

Self- Sufficient Economy

Takeda then turned to the topic of economy, suggesting that the way to better the Korean temple economy would be to revisit the way in which early Meiji Buddhism solved its economic troubles. Takeda put up the Meiji Buddhist persecution as a good example of how that experience transformed Meiji Buddhism into a modern religion. By the time Takeda was writing, in 1911, Meiji Buddhists could have rendered the persecution of Meiji Buddhism, as Ketelaar puts it, as “an event outside offi cial chronicles.” Yet, Takeda and other Buddhist missionaries in Korea did not shun or closet their experiences. Rather, they highlighted these incidents to alert Korean monks that, in order to survive, they must awaken and reform their moribund tradition, which lagged behind modernity, and that they could do so with the support of Japa nese Buddhism.

Th erefore, Takeda proposed improving the Korean temple economy by managing the “Four Doors”: the Sōtōshū’s central religious offi ce, arable lands and forests that belong to the temples, frugality and savings, and donations. It is interesting that Takeda positioned the central reli-

gious offi ce of the Sōtōshū as available to the Wfnjong for use, and offered it as the fi rst door of the four. But he cautioned, “Th is door is not always open.” In other words, he implied that it was rare for this opportunity to be available to the Wfnjong monks, so they had better take advantage of it now.

As for the second door, the arable lands and forests that Korean temples owned, Takeda suggested that these could be a source of income through careful planning. He associated this with Hakujō Ekai’s (749–
814) teaching for monks, “No work, no food,” and said this was the best way to preserve the tradition in the latter day. With the third door Takeda stressed the power of savings by providing detailed calculations.

He started by suggesting that the 600 monks living at the T’ongdo temple (an exaggerated number) save 5 sen a month for the next 10 years.

Doing so would accumulate savings as follows: 600 monks × 5 sen per month = 30 yen; 30 yen × 12 months = 360 yen; 360 yen at 5 percent interest × 10 years = 4,889 yen, 86 sen, 4 ri.

Th us, if each monk saved 5 sen a month, it would compound to almost 5,000 yen in 10 years. If 5,000 monastics in Korea did the same thing, in 10 years their savings would have reached up to 40,750 yen. Given that eminent monks would be able to save 30 to 50 sen a month, Takeda speculated that the average amount of monthly savings per monastic would be roughly 15 sen a month. Th is would add up to 146,680 yen in 10 years. With 5 percent interest, this money would add up to 7,334 yen in yearly interest, which, Takeda assumed, was enough of a bud get to fi nance the education of Korean monks. In comparison, the 1911 bud get for education in the Sōtōshū

was 56,100 yen. Since this bud get supported universities, middle schools, and other small schools, Takeda must have believed that 7,334 yen would be more than enough to educate the proportionately smaller number of Korean monks at the Myfngjin School and local schools at monasteries.

Regarding the fourth door, Takeda stressed the importance of collecting donations through Buddhist rituals and events. If monks remained unattached to money and made use of it for good causes, then the donations would become a resource for helping the three jewels thrive.

Takeda concluded this section on how to improve the temple economy by reminding the Wfnjong monks that the fi rst door, the Sōtōshū’s central religious offi ce, was where all the assets reside. But by returning to this point, that the Sōtōshū was wealthy and powerful, Takeda also held up the Sōtōshū as an example of a modern, disciplined religion, one the Wfnjong should emulate.

Elevated Social Status

Takeda reiterated that Korean monks’ social status was so low that “even children chase and ridicule them.” Th erefore, their social status had to be “elevated fi rst before they will be able to propagate their religion effectively.” He suggested that Korean monks aim their sights at “becoming the teacher of the king.” Takeda did not mean this literally, that monks would be the king’s teacher. Rather he meant it fi guratively, that their social status should be so noble that they could even be teachers of the king.

Japa nese priests, on the other hand, should not aim for this since they were already secure in a high social position. Rather, they should learn

Figure 7.1: Four characters brushed by King Yfngch’in
(Yi Un), the third son of King Kojong, who was demoted to a prince after annexation. Source: Enshū rokutai ron, second page.

how to fi nd a comfortable relationship with the state such that they support but do not interfere with the state. Here, Takeda adhered to the principle of the separation of state and religion: religion deals with the mind while politics deals with the material. “Like two magnets that pull and repel each other, one cannot dominate the other,” he wrote. If religion tried to dominate politics, it would be destroyed, and vice versa.

He raised the example of the popes of the Catholic Church, who threw medieval Eu rope into a dark age with their Crusades. As a better model, he referred to two fi gures from Korea and two from Japan. Wfnhyo
(617– 686), as a monk and as a prince (which was not the case), did not intervene in state aff airs, and his son Sflch’ong (655–?), as a grandson of the king, was not involved in religious matters. In Japan, Gyōgi (670– 749) and Kūkai (774– 835), albeit the preceptors of the emperor, spent their entire lives as pilgrims and did not interfere in state aff airs. Takeda concluded that this was the way the emperor and the dharma have been able to be mutually supportive in Japan, so far.

50. Ibid., 27. 51. Ibid., 28– 29.

300 The Alliance’S Failure And The 1911 Temple Ordinance Ideal Buddhism

As a form of conclusion, Takeda provided a doctrinal basis for his arguments. His primary concept was the bodhisattva, an ideal human being who strives both to reach enlightenment and to help others. Th is being fi nds a balanced approach between improving himself (kōjō) while also serving others (kōka). Takeda mapped these two approaches onto the current situation. Kōjō, improving oneself, symbolized the Korean monk, while kōka, serving others, was the Japa nese priest. If a Japa nese priest as a bodhisattva tried to improve himself but did not pay attention to helping others, it was not the Buddhist way of striving for enlightenment. In the same way, if the Korean monk as a bodhisattva tried to help others but did not strive to improve himself, he was stupid, stated Takeda rather bluntly. In order to create an ideal world and an ideal Buddhism, one should be able to move freely between these two qualities of the bodhisattva, in other words, between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū.

Th e six perfections (paramitas), which Takeda termed as genka, were required to actualize kōjō and kōka. When Japa nese and Korean Buddhisms unite, they will bring together the qualities of kōjō and kōka that they each embody, creating a kind of “bodhisattva Buddhism.” Takeda concluded his treatise by saying that this ideal, perfected, and unifi ed Buddhism worked for the benefi t of Japan, Korea, and the emperor.

In response to Takeda’s treatise, Terauchi wrote back to Takeda on April 17, 1911, saying, “It took two days to read what you sent me and I am planning to return it to you.” Th is letter was an early sign of Terauchi’s discomfort with the alliance. In fact, ten days before this letter, Terauchi had visited Takeda for half an hour at the hospital in Tokyo, although it is unknown whether or not they discussed the alliance. Until Takeda died, on June 23, Terauchi sent a total of two hundred yen over time to help Takeda with medical expenses. Despite the amicable relationship,

Takeda did not receive a concrete answer from Terauchi regarding the alliance. Likewise, the Sōtōshū made no signifi cant moves. It was a lonely campaign for Takeda. Terauchi sent his last farewell telegraph to Takeda, thanking him for his devotion to the country and wishing him
“a swift rebirth in the Pure Land.” In the end, Takeda’s treatise had little impact on Terauchi.

Takeda’S Treatise In Comparison

At fi rst glance, Takeda’s arguments may sound forced, manipulative, and self- serving, characteristic of the mission civilatrice discourse of a colonizer, with rhetoric suff used with derogatory, discriminatory, accusative expressions. Nevertheless, his way of thinking was not that uncommon for Korean and Japa nese Buddhists at the height of the age of power politics. Refl ecting his times, Takeda’s arguments revolved around the notion of power as the determinant of the fate of any individual, institution, society, and nation. Th is social Darwinian belief was a given for other Japa nese and Korean Buddhist reformers. Like Takeda, most of them built their ideas around unity, discipline, and modernity, which taken together translates into power.

Two Korean Buddhists, Kwfn Sangno (1879– 1965) and Han Yong’un, forbears of modern Buddhist reform, are representative of the views on the Korean side. Comparing Kwfn’s and Han’s works with Takeda’s is useful for three reasons. First, although Kwfn and Han published two years after the publication of Takeda’s Treatise (Kwfn in 1912 and Han in 1913), they formulated their reforms in response to events surrounding the Wfnjong, the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance, and the Imjejong countermovement. Th erefore, one can eff ectively draw out the most pressing

concerns that Korean Buddhism faced at this time. Th e fact that Kwfn and Han expressed ideas similar to Takeda’s should force historians to shift from interpreting Treatise only in imperialistic terms to something more complicated. Second, it is likely that Kwfn and Han had read Takeda’s work, since his treatise had been distributed among Wfnjong and Imjejong monks. Th ere are many points of agreement among the three, indicating that they shared similar ideas about what a modern religious institution should be. In other words, Takeda may have been objectionable, but his vision was compelling enough to merit consideration. Th ird, Kwfn and Han disagreed with each other in a number of ways, but they nonetheless were in fundamental agreement on major points of reform. Th is is not surprising since, as the students of the fi rst modern school of Korean Buddhism, the Myfngjin Hakkyo, Kwfn and Han shared an identity as representatives of modern Korean Buddhism, but they diff ered in their institutional identity. Due to his affi liation with the Wfnjong, Kwfn’s work implicitly represented the Wfnjong’s position, while Han’s treatise represented the Imjejong’s.

Kwfn Sangno published a series of articles titled “Th e Reform of Korean Buddhism,” the fi rst of its kind, in a Korean Buddhist journal in 1912. Th e articles in great part refl ected Takeda’s thinking about Korean Buddhism. As one of the most infl uential Buddhist intellectuals in Korea, Kwfn received full pigu (bhikkhu) ordination from Yi Hoegwang in 1912. In part through his relationship with Yi, Kwfn was on the side of the Wfnjong. Since the Wfnjong had a more moderate view of reform, Kwfn’s ideas on reform were not as radical as Han Yong’un’s.

Kwfn distinguished reform (kaehyfk) from restoration (yusin), likening reform to the Buddha Śākyamuni’s teachings, which Kwfn considered a gradual path, and restoration to Bodhidharma’s practice of Sfn, which Kwfn considered a radical change. He argued, “Even if Bodhidharma, who undertook nine years of silent meditation in a cave, came to

our country today, he would not stop from bellowing the two syllables “yu- sin” [meaning, demanding a radical reform]. [And] if even Śākyamuni, who had sat without moving for six years, came here, he [too] would toil to bring reform to Korean Buddhism.” He believed that in light of current circumstances reform should precede restoration. Having restoration, the more radical step, come fi rst would destroy the Korean Buddhist tradition altogether.

A Darwinist principle undergirded Kwfn’s arguments, as evidenced in the subtitle of his treatise, “Materials on the Evolution of Korean Buddhism” (Chosfn Pulgyo chinhwa charyo). Kwfn set out four reforms key to revitalizing Korean Buddhism. First, monastics must reform their minds before the material realities, such as fi nancial stability, were reformed. In modern society, he argued, monks needed to open their eyes, which had been blinded due to their lives in the mountains. In other words, monks have been out of touch with society. Second, the way the sangha was or ga nized needed to be reformed. Kwfn lamented that although there are Buddhist institutions, one could see no unity among them. At the time of his writing in mid- 1912, the Wfnjong and the Imjejong were vying with each other to unify and dominate Korean Buddhism, a contest that was resulting in a sectarian division of Korean Buddhism. Kwfn observed that though there had been many reformers over the last ten years, there were “few progressive results.” To make progress, therefore, Korean monks needed to stop “pushing against each other and lining up on opposite sides”: all Korean monks, both conservatives and progressives, should be “unifi ed in mind.” According to Korean historian Yang Unyong, due to Kwfn’s personal connection to Yi, Kwfn preferred that the Korean sangha be unifi ed under the leadership of the Wfnjong.

Th e reform of temple fi nances was Kwfn’s third suggestion. He observed that Buddhism was the wealthiest among religions in Korea, owning forests, land, buildings, trea sures, and more. Yet, these assets were ineffi ciently managed by individual temples, which were reluctant to

contribute toward a central fi nancial system that could advance Korean Buddhism as a whole (supporting a school for monastics, for example).

Kwfn’s point echoed Takeda’s thoughts on temple economy. Fourth, Kwfn proposed the reform of the education system for monastics such that it included training, along with sutra study and meditation practice, in propagation techniques. Understanding how to teach Buddhism to modern lay people was essential in the “age of religious competition,”
said Kwfn. However, Kwfn deplored the lack of qualifi ed teachers who could train young monks in propagation.

Kwfn’s four proposals were largely in line with Takeda’s although, unlike Takeda, Kwfn did not provide specifi c plans on how to further these four reforms. Both identifi ed unifying Korean Buddhism, fi nancial resources, and education as key to revitalizing Korean Buddhism. Both believed that monks needed to come out of isolation from the mountains and learn to connect with society. For Takeda, however, these reforms were to happen through the support and protection of the Sōtōshū. Kwfn clearly believed that Korean Buddhism could achieve these reforms by itself, though he did not specify exactly how that would be done.

While Kwfn’s treatise may come across as rather general and broad, Han’s treatise is the most articulate, bold, and engaging of all the writings on reform written by Korean monks throughout the colonial period. Th e driving theme in Han’s treatise, like Kwfn and Takeda’s, is how Korean Buddhism could gain power and strength. He stated, “Th e reason why Korean Buddhism is downtrodden is that it lacks strength,” and that he had “long wished to expand the power of [Korean] Buddhism.” Based on his fi rm belief in social Darwinism, he cautioned, “if

Buddhism does not conform with the civilization of the future we will defi nitely fail in revitalizing it, even if we were to bring back to life Martin Luther [1483– 1546] and [Oliver] Cromwell [1599– 1658] and put them to the task.” Han’s vision of reform was radical and thorough. He defi ned reformation as “the child of destruction” (p’agoe). He evaluated Korean monastics in far harsher terms than did Takeda. Even though “natural human rights,” Han pointed out, were inherently given to “all beings in the world,” Korean monks “have been considered to be nonhuman.” “Everyone in Korea regards monks on the same level as cows, horses or slaves, without feeling even a grain of pity toward them”— Han’s understanding of how monks are thought of by others was not overly exaggerated. He was critical of the majority of Korean monks for accepting their status as outcasts, “as if it were their natural status.” Due to being “subject to the most unusual oppression . . . for several centuries,” they had become “idlers,” “beggars,” “parasites,” and “the worst of every three thousand Koreans.” He charged that they lived without any production and unity, and had “several thousand varying personal intentions.”
In order to ameliorate this dire situation, Han proposed mea sures similar to what Takeda and Kwfn had laid out. Han began with what to destroy followed by what to establish. First, he recommended getting rid of all the chanting and worship halls dedicated to deities for apotropaic benefi t; of unnecessary Buddhist rituals; and of all the secluded mountain temples except for several important ones. When it came to what to establish, Han, like Takeda, advocated that the human rights of monks had to fi rst be restored. In order to do that, education was the precondition, but to create the material conditions for monks’ education, the physical presence of temples and branch offi ces should be established in major cities. (Han drew on the institutional system created by Japa nese Buddhism, which had successfully balanced the number of major head temples and preaching halls in rural areas and major cities.) To fi nance this, monks should engage in economic activity such that the forests and land of temples could yield profi ts. (On the topic of fi nances, Han

further recommended that abbots be salaried in order to professionalize temple fi nances and administration.)
However, all of these reforms, said Han, required unifi ed institutional power. Like Takeda and Kwfn, Han believed that “[n]othing under heaven can be achieved without unity.” Yet Han observed the same problem that Kwfn did: despite needing unity, “the situation of the Korean monks today is the complete opposite” and was “without any mental unity.” Han continued, “If a monk emerges who is willing to undertake something, then with little discussion on the pros and cons or feasibility of the proposal, the monk in question will face the unmitigated envy and hostility of his colleagues. If somebody takes the initiative in the east, slander will arise in the west.” Here Han alluded to the challenges his Imjejong movement faced. Since unity was essential to reforming Korean Buddhism, he believed that the central headquarters of Korean Buddhism should be placed in central Seoul, “putting the whole Buddhist monastic community in Korea under a unitary chain of command.” (For this purpose, he and the Imjejong later established a central preaching hall close to the Wfnjong’s Kakhwang temple to compete with it [discussed below].) Han said, “Nothing is more pressing than the need for overall supervision.” As if addressing Yi Hoegwang and Wfnjong, Han vented his frustration: “Th ere seems to be no one among the monks who has the qualities needed to head this pan- Korean unitary supervisory structure.” Th e name of Luther returns as a model of the kind of leader Korean Buddhism desperately needs, “the man” who
“shook the whole religious establishment of Eu rope.” Without a unifi ed institution, Korean monks would fail to initiate missionary work in Korea and abroad, even though Christianity, “with doctrines not worth one ten thousandth of those of Buddhism,” was dominating the world through various missionary methods.

One radical reform that Han proposed that was unique from Takeda’s and Kwfn’s was to allow and even promote clerical marriage (discussed in the previous chapter). When Han had studied in Japan, he learned that

the Meiji government had legalized the practice of monks getting married in 1873. Han attributed the robustness of Japa nese Buddhism to clerical marriage. Th us, for Han, this reform was as urgent and essential as establishing a unifi ed institution for Korean Buddhism, a reform that would eff ectively bridge, as Nam- lin Hur maintained, “the gap between institutional Buddhism and lay Buddhism.” Han suggested that clerical marriage will resolve all the other problems of Korean Buddhism since it would enable monks and nuns to be in touch with society, and would help Buddhism be responsive to social and po liti cal changes. Th e economic activities of married monks would also make Buddhism self- suffi cient and institutionally strong, and thus more aggressive in propagation.

Interestingly, it is through Han’s advocacy for clerical marriage that one sees how Han worked with the colonial government. Han included in his 1912 treatise copies of one petition submitted in March 1910 to the Korean Privy Council (Chungch’uwfn) and another in September 1910
“to his Excellency, the Viscount Terauchi Masatake.” Both petitions requested that the ban on clerical marriage be lifted. To his chagrin, his May 1910 petition was not heeded. He wrote in his second petition, “[N]o mea sures have been taken so far,” and, as a result, “the number of [monks] returning to the lay life are increasing daily and missionary work is becoming increasingly atrophied.” Emphasizing the benefi ts of clerical marriage, including the fact that it would increase the Korean population, Han asked Terauchi a rhetorical question: “Would [allowing monks to marry] not have a great [positive] infl uence on politics, morals, and religion?” Han concluded his petition by saying that “in governance, nothing is better than renovation.” Th e fact that Han petitioned the colonial government and included copies of the petition in his treatise, published more than two years after Japan’s annexation of Korea, indicates that Han not only accepted the foreign rule of Korea as reality but also believed that the state, albeit foreign, held the key to and should intervene in reforming Korean Buddhism. Han’s petition was answered, in a sense, when fi fteen years later, in 1926, the colonial government modifi ed the Temple Ordinance to allow married monks to

assume the abbacies of the head and branch temples. Th is policy change led to heated debates between and among Korean and Japa nese Buddhists regarding the legitimacy of clerical marriage and the potential impact of married monks on Korean Buddhism and clerical identity.

Broadly speaking, Han’s, Takeda’s, and Kwfn’s treatises have similar concerns, themes, and visions, over which most Korean Buddhist intellectuals during the remaining colonial period, as well as their Japa nese counterparts, wrestled to transform their religion into a modern institution. Th ey all agreed that the lack of unity, power, and discipline among Korean monks hindered the Korean Buddhist sangha from recovering human rights, bringing back the former glory of their religion, and undertaking a successful missionary work. In order to increase power, Korean Buddhism needed to create a unifi ed institution, become eco nomical ly self- suffi cient, and promote education and propagation.

Takeda, Kwfn, and Han all felt that the colonial government should protect and promote Korean Buddhism. Th e diff erences among their arguments lay in who should take charge of unifying Korean Buddhism institutionally. For Takeda, the state’s support was insuffi cient, thus necessitating the assistance of the Sōtōshū. Kwfn and Han envisioned the autonomous development of Korean Buddhism and did not seek the kind of paternalistic alliance with a Japa nese sect that Takeda promoted.

Th us, Kim Kwangsik understands Kwfn and Han as Buddhist intellectuals who “agonized” to “materialize national Buddhism.” Th e diff erence between Kwfn’s and Han’s visions for Korean Buddhism were primarily that Kwfn saw unifi cation occurring through the Wfnjong and Han, naturally, saw it taking place through the Imjejong. Both Han and Kwfn, though, took the colonial government’s oversight as a given. Neither questioned its authority to regulate Korean Buddhism through the Temple Ordinance.

Given the number of points of agreement among the three, Takeda’s Treatise should be given more consideration than assuming it is simply a piece of imperialistic rhetoric, used to justify a religious annexation. No matter how fl awed Takeda’s treatise may read, his fundamental vision

for the creation of a powerful, modern religious institution was not different from that of leading Korean monks. Th ey shared the belief that Korean Buddhism would need the state’s support and intervention to help rejuvenate Korean Buddhism. From the perspective of GovernorGeneral Terauchi, however, all their ideas were incompatible with what he envisioned the place of Korean Buddhism would be in Japan’s new colony.

Th E Alliance’S Failure And The Events Of 1911 Yi’S Next Moves

For Yi Hoegwang, Takeda and the Sōtōshū were simply stepladders to reaching the approval of the Wfnjong. Th e terms of the agreement, which included the goal that the Sōtōshū should succeed in having the colonial government approve the Wfnjong, attest to Yi’s intention.

Hence, Yi probably found Takeda’s arguments and the forceful declarations on doctrine and tradition articulated in his treatise rather beside the point. For Korean monks, denominational affi liation based on doctrines and practices was not the only reason for choosing which sect to work with (although it was still an important factor).

Yi’s moves in the months before and after the treaty reveal his priorities. Since March 1910, Yi had pushed forward on setting a foundation for institutionalized Korean Buddhism by building the Kakhwang temple inside the four gates of Seoul, a highly symbolic project. Five months later, after the completion of the temple and three weeks after the meeting with the Sōtōshū, Yi held a triumphal ceremony marked by installing a sitting Śākyamuni Buddha statue made of bronze that had originally been enshrined at the Wfnhgng temple. Th e building and own ership of the Kakhwang temple was meaningful because previously the Wfnjong monks had had to rent their administrative space at the Wfnhgng temple.

Although Japa nese Buddhist missionaries had held a number of public events and invited Korean monks as guests inside the four gates of Seoul, the new temple was the fi rst physical restoration of Korean Buddhism through Korean monks’ initiatives in central Seoul in centuries. It was also now fi fteen years since Sano had gotten the anti- Buddhist law lifted. Yi was aware of the historical signifi cance of the opening of the

Kakhwangsa in relation to Sano’s achievement in 1895. Th us Yi “begged Sano to attend the event.” Sano happened to be visiting Korea, along with Nisshū shinpō reporter Shimada Tōsui, to fi nd an optimal location for the head temple, Ren’ei- ji, which was to become the headquarters of the Nichirenshū in Korea.

To indicate how far along Korean Buddhism had come, in 1895 Sano was the central fi gure; this time he was simply an honorary guest alongside ten Honganji priests and among representatives of other Japa nese sects. Th e event lasted fi ve hours, from eleven in the morning to four in the afternoon, and Sano and Shimada had the opportunity to talk briefl y with Yi between events. Shimada wrote that Yi said the new, modern temple was constructed “purely for the purpose of propagation and it is the fi rst one built in central Seoul.” Sano left the temple early due to an appointment. (Takeda was unable to attend because he had returned to Japan for cancer treatment on October 7, 1910.) Shimada reported that the temple complex and the surrounding streets were “inundated with people,” with “exotic music,” and with “each row numbering a hundred people” lined up to pay respect to the Buddha in the main hall. Th at Yi invited priests from a range of sects indicates that, despite his earlier statements on the Wfnjong’s closeness with the Sōtōshū, he still kept his options open with other Japa nese Buddhist sects. Th is investment in relationships with other sects is further evidenced by the fact that Yi and the Wfnjong nominated Furukawa, a Rinzai missionary, as the abbot of the Pohyfn temple. As mentioned earlier, Yi was still open to the possibility of approaching the Rinzaishū in case arrangements with the Sōtōshū fell through.

After Takeda resigned his position as advisor of the Wfnjong, Yi sent letters to him. One letter, sent sometime in October 1910, bade farewell to Takeda, who had left Korea for good. A later letter, dated January 1, 1911, wished Takeda a happy new year and all the best. Between these

two letters came a letter (see the fi gure above) dated November 19, 1910, a month after the treaty with the Sōtōshū and before the Imjejong was established in protest. In it, Yi expressed his deep appreciation:
After separating, I still feel regret. Regarding the current situation of both sides, you sent me a letter on the fourth of this month and it made me realize how incomparably vast and all embracing you are. I am truly relieved that you feel peaceful in this cold winter. Although I try to do my best to renovate dilapidated temples with my negligible wisdom and limited mind, it’s deplorable that I lack ability. Fortunately, encouraged by your great compassion, we have been collaborating with each other for three years as one mind. Your wise toil is like the ocean and cannot be expressed even if all the ink available is consumed. Th e only way to repay my gratitude, even one ten thousandth of what I
owe you, seems to be only the fact that our minds are united by a bright light.

If our sect is able to ally [yfnhap or rengō] with your sect, [who] wouldn’t say
[that it was your] great compassionate bestowal? It is as if the petrifi ed roots of a tree for fi ve hundred years have been revived and fi nally the spring has comewhom wouldn’t monks like us follow and be enthusiastic for? Even if we look

312 The Alliance’S Failure And The 1911 Temple Ordinance

Figure 7.3: Korean monks (far left) and lay people attending a ceremony commemorating the 650th anniversary of Shinran’s death, held at the Higashi Honganji temple of the Ōtani- ha. Source: Chūgai Nippōsha, Onki taikan, 247.

up at the sky and at the sea a hundred times, I cannot express my gratitude enough for having met you.

Given that Yi’s letter was sent before Takeda wrote his treatise and before the creation of the Imjejong, Yi must have still had high hopes that the Japa nese home and colonial governments would approve the alliance. However, in this letter, Yi uses the term yfnhap or rengō rather than pusok yfnhap or fuzoku rengō, the term Takeda used in his treatise.

Despite their friendship and mutual respect, each had a diff erent understanding of the alliance.

After these three letters, there is no other available record of direct contact between Takeda and Yi. (It is not known whether Yi attended Takeda’s funeral in Japan.) Perhaps the leak of the treaty’s terms a month later ended the possibility that the two could continue to collaborate openly. It is equally possible that Takeda, clearly in his last months of life, had little po liti cal power and thus was no longer as useful to Yi and the Wfnjong as before. In addition, Yi’s expectation of the Sōtōshū was rapidly dwindling.

Yi’s move away from Takeda and the Sōtōshū was most likely propelled by the knowledge that the colonial government would soon issue a series of edicts regulating Korean religions and restricting the work of Japa nese missionaries. In par tic u lar, the governor- general’s negative stance toward Japa nese Buddhist missionary work must have been a clear indication to Yi that pursuing the treaty would be futile. Rather, what concerned Yi now, in early 1911, was how to deal with the emergence of opponents, in par tic u lar the Imjejong monks. And, with the Korean government disestablished, Yi now turned his energies toward fi nding ways of ingratiating himself with the new state authorities, albeit a foreign, colonial government, to push his programs through.

Diverse Affiliations Among Korean Monks

Despite his complaints about the lack of unity in Korean Buddhism, Takeda incorrectly assumed that Korean monks were fairly well- unifi ed under the leadership of Yi at the time of the alliance. However, the Chūgai nippō reported, “Th e infl uence of Yi’s Wfnjong is limited and there are many Korean monks who do not agree with his leadership.” Th e article pointed out that “168 temples, which [recently] became branches of the Honganji- ha, oppose Yi Hoegwang.” A month later, the newspaper reported that some of the twenty- fi ve Korean monks who attended a ceremony commemorating the 650th year of Shinran’s death at the Nishi Honganji (Honganji- ha) on May 14, 1911, and who were reordained as Honganji priests, were “more infl uential in Korea

than Yi.” Pak Manha from the T’ongdo temple also reordained at the Nishi Honganji. As mentioned in chapter 4, Manha was a prominent preceptor who had taken the Honganji- ha missionary Iwao Jōen as his student in 1901. Both Iwao and Manha were invited to give a special guest lecture at Kokugaku Hall at the Nishi Honganji soon after Manha’s reordination. In addition, among the monastics who were reordained at the May 15 ceremony at the Higashi Honganji (Ōtani- ha) was the nun Kim Unghap of the Tubosa temple in Seoul whom the newspaper allegedly reported was the head of all Korean nuns. (Th is indicates that Korean nuns also took advantage of Japa nese Buddhism to advance their interests.) It is clear that the Honganji and Ōtani branches were unhappy about Yi Hoegwang’s exclusive deal with the Sōtōshū, ignoring other groups of Korean monks who sought diff erent affi liations. Sects redoubled their eff orts to lure Korean monks to their own tradition in part to defeat the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance. Th e fact that Korean monks and temples associated with diff erent Japa nese sects reveals a diversity of movements and visions among Korean monastics.

Some of the monks who switched affi liations were, surprisingly, once founding members of the Wfnjong: Pak Manha from the T’ongdo temple; Kim P’ogng from Haein; Yi Kgnghf, Cho Myfnghf, and Kim Sfngn from Hgngch’fn; Yi Podam from Pongsfn. Th us, while they were working with the Sōtōshū, they nonetheless took ordination with the Honganji- ha! It is even more striking that, at the time of his reordination, Yi Podam worked at the central religious offi ce of the Wfnjong
(which was still in conversation with the Sōtōshū). Likewise, Kim Sfngnyul was ordained with the Nishi Honganji while still working for the Wfnjong. It is most likely they rallied around the two Honganji branches at the prospect of a failing deal with the Sōtōshū. Another motivation to ordain with the Honganji was that monks may have been looking after their personal advancement and had no problem personally affi liating with the Honganji while their institution affi liated with the Sōtōshū. Th is indicates that Korean monks held these affi liations rather lightly and truly did view them on an or gan i za tion al, rather than

doctrinal, level. If one looks a little further back into their history of affi liation, in 1906, Yi Podam, along with Hong Wflch’o, had once been a Jōdoshū member and had worked closely with the Jōdo missionary Inoue to establish the Buddhist Study Society and the Myfngjin School.

Th is means that Yi Podam’s affi liations shifted from Jōdoshū to Sōtōshū, and then to the Honganji- ha; and Hong’s from the Jōdoshū to the Ōtani- ha, and then to the Honganji- ha. Scholar Han Tongmin’s assertion that Hong should be treated as a nationalist, while Yi Hoegwang should be treated a collaborator, is problematic if one considers Hong’s constant shift of affi liations. Like many other Korean monks, Hong kept searching for a better opportunity by affi liating with multiple Japanese Buddhist sects. As a result of these diverse preferences, monks in the same monasteries had diff erent affi liations with Japa nese Buddhist sects (as Hioki Mokusen and Takeda had complained about). For example, in one temple, there would be monks belonging to the Wfnjong and monks allied with the Imjejong. Like the twenty- fi ve Korean monks who came to be ordained at the Honganji- ha, many who attended another commemoration ceremony at the Ōtani- ha were from the Imjejong’s Haein, T’ongdo, and Kgmgang temples. Korean monks accorded these diff erences fairly harmoniously and had no problem living and working beside monks of other sectarian associations. But for the Japa nese Buddhists, these multiple affi liations were perplexing and frustrating.

Moreover, because Korean monks did not make strong sectarian distinctions and switched sides easily, this infl amed competition among Japa nese sects. At times, this led to amusing episodes. Once, a group of about ten Korean monks, including Kim Kgmdam from Yujfmsa, was invited to attend the Shinran’s 650th anniversary event at the Higashi Hongan- ji temple (see Figure 7.3). To board a ferry for Japan, they arrived

in Pusan expecting to be picked up by an Ōtani- ha priest, most likely Inami Senshō or Tatsuyama Gonyū. However, the priest got the arrival time wrong and failed to show up at the appointed hour. Seizing the opportunity, a Honganji- ha priest, Iwao Jōen, rushed to the train station, identifi ed himself falsely, snatched up the Korean monks, and took them to the branch temple of the Honganji- ha in Pusan (without informing the Ōtani- ha priest). Th e Ōtani priest fi nally managed to fi nd the whereabouts of the Korean monks and, after a big commotion, took them back. Th e poaching did not end here. While Korean monks were visiting the Higashi Honganji of the Ōtani- ha in Kyoto, Honganji- ha priests, including Iwao, enticed a Korean monk from the Higashi to the complex of the Nishi and cut him off from any communication with other Korean monks staying at the Higashi. Th ey then tried to seduce him into becoming a Honganji priest so that he could work as a Honganji- ha missionary in Korea. For assurance, the Honganji demanded that he write a pledge saying that he would not become a Higashi missionary. After an intensive search for the monk and a showdown with the Nishi priests, the Higashi priests were able to bring him back. Another source described this poaching as follows: “If Nishi includes Korean monks in the pro cession, so does Higashi; if Nishi ordains Korean monks, so does [Higashi] ordain Korean monks, in far greater number than the day before.” Korean monks were not aware of the diff erences between these two branches of Shin Buddhism and easily complied with either side’s requests. In fact, they did not care which one was which as long as they were treated nicely. Th is incident provides a glimpse of how sectarian competition between the two branches of the Jodoshinshū played out in converting Korean monastics. Unlike the reluctant Sōtōshū, the two Shinshū sects, at least, were eager to make Korean monks their own priests.

Even the temples of the Imjejong, which joined the Imjejong in part as a statement of in de pen dence, were no exception to forming alliances with Japa nese sects. Th e Taedun (presently Taehgng) temple in Chflla

Province, which had initially participated in the Imje movement, registered as an Ōtani- ha on February 28, 1911, and Pak Ch’fngbong, the abbot of the temple, along with others, was ordained in the Ōtani- ha, while retaining a commitment to the Imjejong.

Regarding how the Wfnjong followed up on the alliance with the Sōtōshū, one fi nds an intriguing report in the Chūgai nippō issued on May 12, 1912. Since the article best illuminates Yi’s and the Wfnjong’s practical, multiple, and strategic alliances, it is worth a long quotation:
Although at one time it looked like the Wfnjong of Yi’s party would be brought completely under the Sōtōshū’s control, it does not appear that there is that much of a relationship. Recently, it leans more toward the Rinzaishū, and calls itself “the Central Religious Offi ce of Rinzai Wfnjong Sōtōshū” [Imje Wfnjong Chodongjong Ch’ongmuwfn]. . . . According to Korean monks, the Wfnjong is a lineage of the Rinzai . . . but they, the Wfnjong monks, wear the Sōtō robe when visiting the Sōtōshū, and use the Rinzai robe when coming to the Rinzaishū. . . . Th ey are showing another manifestation of the toadyism of the Korean style. However, even though Japa nese Buddhists hold them in contempt, they [the Wfnjong monks] rather render Japa nese Buddhism as [a collection of] narrow- minded tenets. Th ey say that “While Japa nese Buddhism is extremely one- sided, asserting that nenbutsu is just nenbutsu and Zen is only Zen, our Wfnjong encompasses everything and therefore does not stagnate.” Th ey are proud of themselves, saying that this is what the Wfnjong stands for.

Th is fascinating passage shows how Korean monastics viewed practices and lineages. At the time, Korean and Japa nese Buddhists both evaluated their situation in terms of “stagnation” versus “progress.” In the early years of the Meiji period, for example, Japa nese modernizers and Christians often belittled Japa nese Buddhism for being “stagnant.” Japanese Buddhists, in turn, applied the same stigma to Korean and Chinese Buddhism, as Takeda and his contemporaries did, ridiculing these Buddhisms’ lack of institutional unity and sectarian identity. But as Korean

Buddhism’s identity came into focus, over against that of Japa nese Buddhism, Korean monks turned the very same rhetoric against Japa nese Buddhism, representing the Wfnjong as more progressive and modern because of their ability to be fl exible and work beyond sectarian lines. Later, this self- reconfi guration of Korean Buddhism developed more fully into the concept of “Ecumenical Buddhism” (t’ong Pulgyo) to contrast the superiority of Korean Buddhism’s unity to that of Japa nese Buddhism’s fragmentariness. Th us, this is a telling example of, as Mary Louise Pratt has termed it, “the dynamics of self- representation” in the context of colonialism in which the periphery is also able to determine the metropole. Th e ambiguity in Korean monks’ self- representation, and even their capacity to become Japanese- like, made it impossible for a fragmented Japa nese Buddhism to dominate them. Korean monastics had substantial reason to consider the sectarian nature of Japa nese Buddhism as founded on “narrow- minded tenets” and therefore not modern. In later years, Japa nese Buddhists acknowledged that sectarian divisions within their religion were one of the central reasons that Korean Buddhism rejected Japa nese Buddhism.

At any rate, not a few Korean monks and even some Wfnjong monks changed their affi liation with Japa nese Buddhist sects according to their needs. Th is tendency continued until the Temple Ordinance of 1911 went into full eff ect.

Th E 1911 Temple Ordinance

Th e 1911 Temple Ordinance had lasting implications for Korean Buddhism and the later development of both Japa nese and Korean Buddhisms throughout the colonial period. Conventional scholarship characterizes this ordinance as oppressive, usurping the autonomy of Korean Buddhist institutions and obstructing Korean Buddhism’s natural transformation into a modern religious institution. Nevertheless, the Temple Ordinance, promulgated on June 3, 1911, and fully in eff ect that September, successfully institutionalized and bureaucratized Korean Buddhism,

contributed to ending institutional links between Japa nese and Korean Buddhism, and led to the separate development of the two Buddhisms during the ensuing years of the colonial period. Th e ordinance also provided bureaucratic standing to Korean monks, especially the abbots of the thirty head temples, by fully integrating them and their temples into the government’s system. Korean Buddhism fi nally received the offi cial recognition from the state that it had longed for, but that recognition came from a foreign government.

Th e seven articles of the Temple Ordinance are as follows:
1) When one wants to move, unite, or discontinue a temple, one should get the permission of the governor- general. Th is also applies to when one changes the place and the name of a temple.

2) Without the permission of the local governor, one is not allowed to use the place or complex of a temple for any other reason except for propagation, rituals, and residency for pigu (monks) and piguni (nuns).

3) Each head temple will decide the rules related to the relationship between the head and branch temples, the rituals and monastic codes, and so on. Th e governor- general should approve these rules.

4) All temples should have their own abbot. Th e abbot should be in charge of all fi nances, aff airs, and rituals.

5) One should not dispose of anything belonging to the temple without the permission of the governor- general including, for example, land, trees, buildings, statues, stone inscriptions, old documents, old paintings, and other valuables.

6) One who violates any of the above terms will be put in jail for up to two years and be fi ned up to fi ve hundred wfn.

7) Any necessary stipulations beyond these can be decided by the governor- general.

On July 8, the colonial government further promulgated the Eight Regulations for Enforcement ( jikkō kisoku). Th ey stipulated the following: 1)
the method to replace an abbot; 2) that the number of head temples

would be thirty; 3) the submission of the personal resumes of abbots to the governor- general; 4) the terms for abbots (three years, with possible reappointment); 5, 6, 8) punitive mea sures; and 7) the submission of an inventory of all trea sures of temples.

Th e eff ects of the Temple Ordinance, as well as of the eight regulations on Korean and Japa nese Buddhism, were tremendous. Th e biggest change was that the governor- general assumed all executive power over temple matters. Many key decisions, from the nominations of head monks to dealing with temple properties to the moving of temples, required approval from the governor- general. While the governor- general would approve head monks, provincial governors would approve the abbots of the branch temples. Th erefore, unlike Japa nese Buddhist sects, in which each head priest had the power to nominate the abbots of its branch temples, Korean head monks did not have this control. In this way, the Temple Ordinance brought all of Korean Buddhism not under the administration of one head priest— as Yi, Kim, and Takeda, as well as Kwfn and Han, had envisioned— but under the control of the governor- general.

Th is does not mean that the abbots of the head temples were powerless. On the contrary, according to charter 3, each head temple could dictate the terms of its relationships with its branch temples. And, according to the monastic codes later submitted by all the temples to the colonial government, the abbot of a head temple could penalize the abbots of his branch temples for disobeying him. But the unintended consequence of this setup was that so much power became vested in these thirty head monks that Korean Buddhism began to divide up into thirty smaller factions. Hence, although Korean Buddhism was under the control of the governor- general, in reality, it came to have thirty groups that prioritized the interests of their own head temples, making national programs for Korean Buddhism diffi cult to enact. Th roughout the colonial period, monks vied with each other to take over these limited positions and resources. Abbotships of lesser temples were also highly sought

because, according to charter 4, an abbot could exert his own administrative power on smaller temples in the vicinity.

Th e Temple Ordinance also created a central ecclesiastical meeting offi ce that coordinated joint programs, such as the Buddhist Seminary, supported by the thirty head monks. Th e offi ce had a head position. While that head leader had no power for nominations except for some staff positions at the offi ce, unlike the central religious offi ce in Japan, it nevertheless became the focus of a power struggle among Korean monks, starting with Yi Hoegwang and Kang Taeryfn.

One intriguing element of the 1911 Temple Ordinance is that the number of head temples was set at thirty. Compared to the 1902 Temple Ordinance, the number of temples designated as head temples in the 1911 Temple Ordinance nearly doubled. Originally, in 1902, the Korean government intended to designate two head temples in each of the eight provinces. However, it ended up designating three temples for two provinces in Kyfngsang and just one each for the P’yfngan and Hwanghae provinces, refl ecting the density of temples and populations as well as, most importantly, their military signifi cance. However, several temples not included in the new ordinance had either historical signifi cance or were large, or both. Th ey were unhappy about being excluded, particularly since they had been in competition with some of those that were made into regional head temples. Th ey launched a movement to be elevated. After the disestablishment of the Bureau of Temple Administration, in 1904, the Pfmf temple (which had been in competition with the T’ongdo), the Tonghwa temple (which had been in competition with Unhae), the Kfnbong temple (which had been in competition with Yujfm), and the Sfnam temple (which had been in competition with Songgwang) were newly included. Nine other temples made their case, thus making thirty head temples by the time of the promulgation of the 1911 Temple Ordinance. Although the details on how these thirteen were included are unknown, one can assume that the monks of these temples lobbied government offi cials, especially Kwfn Chongsfk and Yi Kgnt’aek.

In drafting the 1911 Temple Ordinance, the colonial government accepted the total number as it stood.

Later, the abbot of the Hwafm temple, near Sfnam Temple in Chflla Province, appealed to the colonial government for inclusion as a head temple because, in light of its size and importance, the Hwafm temple could not become a branch of Sfnam. Bitter antagonism had arisen between these two temples, escalating into violence that claimed a monk’s life. Eventually, in 1924, the colonial government promoted the Hwafm temple to a head temple, adding one more to the existing thirty head temples. Th us, even the colonial government itself could not quell the rivalry among monastics for prestige, position, money, and power, and it had to mediate by enforcing regulations and off ering compromises.

In terms of the most important, lasting implications of the ordinance, Korean Buddhism became administered directly by the colonial government, and any administrative interference from Japa nese Buddhist sects was made illegal. Japa nese Buddhism in colonial Korea itself continued to be supervised by the Regulations on Propagation of Religion, issued in 1906 and revised in 1915. At one point after annexation, the issue came out whether the Home Ministry of the Japa nese government or whether the colonial government would be in charge of matters relating to Japanese temples in Korea. Th e home government yielded supervision to the colonial authority as it had done to Resident- General Itō in 1906.

With the promulgation of the 1911 Temple Ordinance, all contracts between Korean temples and Japa nese sects became void and lost any legal standing.

Soon after the issuance of the Temple Ordinance, Korean monks turned their attention to fi lling the administrative positions newly created by the colonial government. Nevertheless, for about a year after the issuance of the Temple Ordinance and the regulations for enforcement, the rivalry between the two Korean sects, and the practice of monks’ associating with Japa nese sects, continued. Th e rivalry intensifi ed because both the Imjejong and the Wfnjong needed to consolidate their own parties in order to present itself to the new colonial authorities as

the more legitimate representative of Korean Buddhism. Japa nese sects became more aggressive about approaching Korean temples because they took the addition of the vast land of Korea to Japan as a golden opportunity to make their institutions truly international.

At this point, it will be helpful to briefl y revisit and compare the 1902 and 1911 temple ordinances with the program that Takeda and Yi proposed in their petition to the government authorities in 1908. Constituted as the direct result of the growing inroads of the Jōdoshū into Korean temples, the 1902 Temple Ordinance provided little latitude to Korean monks since the bureau had all the administrative and punitive powers. Th e 1911 Temple Ordinance was similar, although the supreme leader, the governor- general, oversaw Korean temples, whereas in the 1902 Temple Ordinance, the supervisor of the bureau did this. It is clear, then, that the 1908 program that Yi and Takeda painstakingly petitioned for approval was the most empowering model for Korean Buddhism because it created a Korean institution in which the head priest had tremendous power through his ability to appoint abbots of head and branch temples. Th e 1908 petition envisioned a nearly in de pen dent institution of Korean Buddhism, only lacking full in de pen dence because the bureau nominally supervised it.

Th ough Yi was maligned for the way he sought to get the 1908 petition approved, ironically Korean monks later attempted to implement a program similar to the framework of that 1908 petition. In the 1920s, monks were bristling under the state’s tight control and sought to revise or abolish the 1911 Temple Ordinance to give Korean Buddhism greater autonomy. In 1937, Han Yong’un published the essay “Matter on the Control of Korean Buddhism,” criticizing the state for interfering too much in nominating abbots through the temple ordinance. Th is meddling had kindled power struggles in Korean Buddhism, he said. In order to rectify these structural problems, he recommended a system of a great head temple (ch’ong ponsanje) and that this temple “[and not the colonial government] should have the power to elect all the head temples,” which is “a natural right [of Korean Buddhism].” His essay, along with the published refl ections of other leading monks, led Korean

monks to attempt to establish a great head temple in the late 1930s. Th is is exactly what Yi and Takeda had laid out in their program de cades before.

Reactions Korean Buddhism

Both the Wfnjong and the Imjejong vied to dominate Korean Buddhism even after the Temple Ordinance was issued. Th ere was nothing in the Temple Ordinance that prohibited these sects from existing, and as tensions between the two grew, the colonial government realized its oversight. In June 1912, it ordered the two to disestablish.

Th e year before, however, with the Sōtōshū and Wfnjong alliance falling apart and Takeda’s tireless eff orts having gone nowhere, the Wf-njong and the Imjejong aggressively pursued recruiting major temples to their sect. Th e Imjejong, seizing on the Wfnjong’s setbacks, succeeded in acquiring T’ongdo, Haein, and Songgwang temples, although within the temples some monks held diff erent affi liations. Ironically, Yi was the abbot of the Haein temple, indicating that some monks at this temple who did not agree with Yi must have registered without asking him. Th e Imjejong also set up a temporary central religious offi ce at the T’ongdo temple. Th is temple is the one that Yi had previously attempted to lure into donating funds for the construction of the Kakhwangsa in return for making it the great head temple. To Yi’s dismay, the T’ongdo temple stood with the Imjejong on the promise that it would become the center of Korean Buddhism. Nevertheless, the colonial government’s enforcement of the 1911 Temple Ordinance late that year and into the next limited both the Imjejong and Wfnjong’s ability to get very far.

Just as Yi’s programs had been and continued to be blocked by the authorities, so too were Han Yong’un’s plans to outrun the Wfnjong quashed by the colonial government. Th e government accused Han of establishing the temporary central religious offi ce at the T’ongdo temple without permission. Han’s matter was taken up in court along with two similar cases. A police report on “the establishment of temples or shrines by Korean monks,” written May 17, 1911, details these three cases. As the abbot of the Paektam temple, Han was accused of having “an ambition to control the temples of the Imje monks” by setting up a central offi ce

there. Th e second case was about a nun who allegedly was following a divine message to build a temple to revitalize Korean Buddhism. Lastly, Kim Wflchae, a monk of the Tonghwa temple, built a temple called Pohyfnsa, along with other fellow monks. Th e same Criminal Law 408 applied to Yi Hoegwang a half year earlier was also applied to these three: “Th ose who, with trickery and pretending to worship an old sage, build a private shrine and take money from people shall be fl ogged eighty times. And those who establish a private temple or any kind of shrine shall be sentenced to three years in prison.” Leapfrogging the 1902 Temple Ordinance of Imperial Korea, which had permitted the building of new temples, the colonial government applied this provision from the Chosfn dynasty in the colonial period.

Th e Japa nese state had diff erent policies regulating Buddhism in the diff erent countries it governed. In Korea, it continued, more or less, the anti- Buddhist policies of the previous Korean government. Korean Buddhists had to receive permission from colonial authorities on any major internal decision. Th is was not the case in Taiwan. After that country was annexed, in 1894, Taiwanese Buddhists were allowed to build temples and shrines as they wished. Th e Japa nese government there continued with the previous government’s stance of non- regulation. In Japan itself, interestingly, Japa nese sects, while regulating themselves on most matters, received an order from the Home Ministry in September 1878 that they must get authorization from the government to build any new temples. However, the reason behind this regulation had nothing to do with the fact that the colonial government controlled buildings. In the case of Japa nese Buddhism, the Meiji government was trying to minimize the fi nancial strain on temples and shrines by conglomerating or disestablishing those without priests and by not permitting new temples and shrines.

In the case of Korea, however, Korean Buddhism had a diff erent problem: the impoverished economy among Korean temples meant that resources had to be conserved. For this reason, among others, the colonial government found Han’s plan to establish a new temple unacceptable. Han’s case ended with a warning, but his activities had to be curbed. Han later recorded that he moved the Imjejong’s temporary offi ce from the Pfmf temple to Seoul, indicating that he tried to avoid confl icting with the law. Th e papers on Han’s case also indicated that, with regard to the Imjejong establishing a central religious offi ce, the colonial government would decide for or against that later, and that it had not entirely ruled out the possibility of letting the Imjejong have this offi ce.

Th e colonial government’s attitude toward Han was not amicable, but it was as indiff erent toward giving the Imjejong state recognition as it had been to the Wfnjong. Th e colonial government’s lack of response on petitions indicates that early on it saw the eventual promulgation of the Temple Ordinance as an antidote to the sectarian divisions that were undermining its eff orts to control Korea as a new authority. Han had to fi nd a way to circumvent the legal system of the colonial government.

Building propagation centers was allowed by the 1911 Temple Ordinance, while building a temple would violate Criminal Law 408. Th us, in March 1912 the Imjejong set up its central propagation center in Seoul, not far from the seat of the Wfnjong’s Kakhwang temple, which had also set itself up as a central preaching hall so as to avoid legal problems. Th e Imjejong thus positioned itself to directly compete with the Wfnjong. Just as the Wfnjong had held a big ceremony for the opening of the Kakhwang temple, in late 1910, so the Imjejong monks held their own opening ceremony, on May 17, 1912. Th e festivities, speeches, and music attracted eight hundred people who then and there converted to

the Imjejong. Interestingly, the superintendent of the Rinzaishū’s Korea missions, Furukawa, gave a congratulatory speech for the Imjejong, indicating that the Imjejong had formed a close connection with the Rinzaishū. If indeed his presence at the ceremony signals that Furukawa had abandoned his affi liation with the Wfnjong and turned toward the Imjejong, it certainly would have made sense, as the Imjejong defi ned itself within the same lineage as the Rinzaishū. Despite his careful eff ort to avoid legal violations, Han was arrested again in June on charges of not having received approval from the colonial government to raise funds for the Imjejong preaching center. He was fi ned 30 wfn and was subject to twenty days of compulsory labor if payment went into default.

In contrast, Yi Hoegwang, aware of the shift in the po liti cal structure, was quick to adjust himself to the system of the new colonial authority. He applied to be the abbot of the Haein temple and was granted an appointment from the governor- general, becoming the fi rst abbot of a major temple nominated by the colonial government. In January 1912, Yi and fi ve other monks appointed to be head abbots were invited to the offi cial residence of Governor- General Terauchi. Terauchi congratulated them (they “felt it was an unpre ce dented honor”) and requested them to do their best to turn people into faithful subjects through Buddhism.

(Also present at the luncheon were Yamagata Isaburō (1857– 1927), second in command, and Home Minister Ugami Katsuo.) A few months later, Yi was asked by Terauchi to care for prisoners, making Yi also the fi rst prison chaplain of modern Korean Buddhism.

Encouraged by the friendly disposition of the governor- general, Yi and the Wfnjong launched propagation drives in December 1911. In January 1912, they invited prominent monks to give dharma talks inside the four gates of Seoul. Th is provided a new opening for meditation

masters who had been hidden deep in the mountains and had been reluctant to enter the capital city over concerns of still- lingering antiBuddhist sentiments. Th e Wfnjong also held precepts ceremonies, ordaining 66 monks and nuns of full standing, 3 male novices, 25 female novices, 28 laymen, and 161 laywomen. Th is was the fi rst centralized, systematic ordination ceremony held after these events had been abolished in the early part of the Chosfn dynasty. In addition, the Wfnjong began publishing the journal Wfnjong to “promote modern knowledge and education for young monks.” In May 1912, the Wfnjong held a large, public celebration for the Buddha’s birthday, which lasted “day and night,” at the Kakhwang temple with over a thousand people attending. For the fi rst time in centuries, the center of Seoul, namely within the four gates of Seoul, abounded with monks, prayers, talks, and ceremonies on the premises of these two competing Buddhist groups. Both Korean sects also made strides to open preaching halls, emulating Japa nese Buddhism. Th e Tonghwa, T’ongdo, Pfmf, Yfngju, Hwajang, and other temples in the countryside established preaching halls in cities to extend their reach. Propagation became a dominant concern for each sect. In general, the Wfnjong tended to have greater success in all these activities than the Imjejong simply because those affi liated with Japan fared better due to the po liti cal realities on the ground.

Both the Imjejong and Wfnjong sought appointments for the abbacies of their temples from the governor- general. On December 17, 1911, soon after Yi received his appointment, O Sfngwfl, one of the leaders of the Imjejong, submitted an application and was granted an appointment as the abbot of the Pfmf temple. He was also invited to dinner by Terauchi. Pak Hanyfng, cofound er of the Imjejong along with Han, received an appointment for not only the branch temple Kwiam but three other temples as well. Another leading member of the Imjejong, Chin Chingng, got his temple, Hwafm Temple (mentioned earlier), elevated to a head temple in 1924 through a series of petitions to the colonial

government. (It became the thirty- fi rst head temple.) Some of those who ordained in the Ōtani and Honganji branches in May 1911 successfully became abbots of the head and branch temples as well. In this regard, the Imjejong might have been an anti- Wfnjong movement, but they were not an anti- colonial movement. Th e majority of Korean scholars and Japa nese scholars have maintained that the Imjejong was a nationalist movement, yet many Imjejong monks took colonial rule and the policy of the Temple Ordinance as a reality and, albeit reluctantly, complied with it throughout the colonial period.

However, in the beginning not everybody took the Temple Ordinance seriously. Even worse, there was a rumor that the colonial government was attempting to confi scate all the temple properties through the Temple Ordinance, which caused suspicion and resentment. As before annexation, some monks therefore thought of affi liating with Japanese Buddhist sects, even though it was now illegal, as a form of insurance, thinking these sects would provide protection from the colonial government itself. For instance, in 1911, Pobong and the Pohyfn temple, with the support of the Wfnjong, went so far as to choose as its candidate for abbot Furukawa Taikō. Pobong submitted the application to the governor- general for offi cial approval of Furukawa. Th e colonial government, which might have been irritated by Furukawa’s earlier petition, discarded Pobong’s application outright on August 21 and made Pae Yfnghae, a Korean monk, the abbot of the Pohyfn temple. Th is put

both Furukawa and Pobong out of consideration; Pobong had to wait another three years to apply for the abbot’s position. Luckily for him, he enjoyed fi ve terms in a row after that.

In a similar case, the abbot of the Hgibang temple in Kyfngsang Province, Kim Haeun, was persuaded to subordinate his temple to the Honganji- ha in Seoul and received a contract (kamatsujō), along with Shinshū texts and a tablet, in return. Having learned that his behavior would violate the Temple Ordinance, the abbot of the Hgibang temple went back to the branch temple of the Honganji- ha in Seoul to nullify the deal. Th e colonial government did not stop here. When Kamsfnwfl from the Taehgng temple in the Chflla Province was elected abbot, the colonial government rejected his nomination since he had reordained in a Japa nese Buddhist sect and thus could not be considered a Korean monk. A Korean monk, Paek Ch’wi’un (1866–?), became the abbot of the temple instead. Th ese cases are clear indications that any administrative ties between Korean temples and Japa nese sects were no longer possible or legal.

Wary of this ongoing practice among Korean and Japa nese Buddhists, in September 1911 Superintendent- General Yamagata Isaburō sent a warning notice titled “Regarding the Explanation of the Meanings of the Promulgation of the Temple Ordinance” to the governors of the thirteen provinces. It read, in part:
Th e reason why the Temple Ordinance was promulgated, as the seventh Ordinance [put out by the colonial government], is that it is aimed at regulating
[temples] to prevent their impoverishment and secure the preservation [of their properties]. Nevertheless, some are deliberately spreading a rumor that the Temple Ordinance was designed to usurp monks’ rights and to eradicate all monks. Th ese persons cause Korean monks to have apprehensions and, seizing the moment, contrive to get them to establish a head and branch relationship between Japa nese and Korean temples. Or, they exchange a document for registering as a branch temple [kamatsujō] and force monks to sign written

contracts that entrust the management of properties [with them]. . . . Th is is surely attributed to the fact that the Chosfn monks have not fully understood the intentions of the Temple Ordinance. For this reason, all resident monks should be seriously reminded of our true intentions so that reckless words and imprudent behavior would not be disruptive in the future.

Th is warning from the colonial government sought to end these new, hasty alliances between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists.

Japa Nese Buddhism

Th e colonial government’s shift in policy was a disappointment to the Japa nese Buddhists. When Korea was annexed, in August 1910, the Japanese Buddhist sects were enthralled about the prospect of unimpeded expansion for their sects. For example, the Sōtō head priest, Ishikawa, issued a letter to all the Sōtōshū temples to hold a celebratory ceremony upon annexation. In his opening speech to the fourteenth council meeting, he announced that with annexation, sectarian expansion should follow the movement of the national power. For that purpose, he requested the Sōtōshū administrators to urgently improve methods for propagation.

Th e newly elected head priest of the Nichirenshū, Asahi Nichimyō, a former missionary to Korea during the early 1900s, also prepared a massive propagation drive in Korea. As the fi rst step, he nominated Sano Zenrei, who had contributed to the 1895 abolishment of the antiBuddhist law and who had allegedly given a fake golden burner to the Korean king. At the council meeting in September 1910, the Nichirenshū made public a bold project it had had in mind as early as the mid 1890s:
to relocate a head temple, the Ren’ei- ji, to Korea. Like Katō Bunkyō, who had visited the Taegng temple to reenact the steps of Nichiji, the

Nichirenshū sought to reclaim the land of Korea, which had already been seeded, they believed, with Nichiren’s teachings by Nichiji centuries earlier. Sano, in his 1911 book on Nichiji, proclaimed that, if there had been several hundred priests like Nichiji during Sano’s own time, Japan would have acquired “much bigger territories,” “with less eff ort and time,” and that, in order to unify East and West, “faith in the Lotus Sutra” should be a precondition. It is not unfounded, then, that the Nichirenshū believed that propagation in Korea would determine the fate of the sect’s future. By relocating the temple to Korea, it not only intended to make Korea the center of the Nichirenshū’s propagation, but also to convert and control all of Korean Buddhism. Sano’s old dream from 1895 reemerged.

Sano visited Korea to fi nd a proper place, as mentioned earlier, but vacillated between Seoul and P’yfngyang as the ideal location of the head temple. Without doubt, Seoul was the best and natural candidate simply because it was the capital city of colonial Korea and where the colonial government resided. However, some said that P’yfngyang was better for two reasons. First, Seoul was already saturated with other Japa nese Buddhist sects’ presence, while P’yfngyang was the center for Christianity. Th us, if the Nichirenshū were truly serious about competing in the market of propagation, it should move the head temple to P’yfngyang. Second, the growing importance of Manchuria would make the city of P’yfngyang more central to Japan than Seoul. Th e Higashi Honganji turned its eyes to P’yfngyang to establish a major temple. Th e Jōdoshū likewise envisioned transplanting its head temple to colonial Korea to bring greater legitimacy and power to its missionary work there. It decided that the Chion- in temple in Kyoto, one of the Jōdoshū’s head temples founded by Honen (1133– 1212), would be moved to Korea.

Th e most concrete change some of the Japa nese Buddhist sects made in 1911 was to increase their bud gets for Korean missions. For example, the Honganji- ha increased its bud get from 10,000 to 23,000 yen, and

the Sōtōshū from 6,000 to 15,000 yen. Stimulated by these sects, the Nichirenshū also passed a fi ve- year bud get of 35,000 yen, which was comparatively little, but they also planned to spend millions of yen relocating the Ren’ei- ji, as the Jōdoshū had bud geted for moving Chion- in.

To the sects’ disappointment, however, their ambitions were rather quickly cut short. A short piece in the Chūgai nippō titled “Korean Missions and the Failure of the Four Buddhist Sects” describes what happened. Th e article was published on September 7, 1911, three months after the promulgation of the Temple Ordinance. In summary, the piece says that the Ōtani- ha sent a close associate of the head priest to have an audience with the deposed king, Kojong, but the colonial government replied that it would be unnecessary. Th e Honganji- ha dispatched Ōzu Tetsunen to build a temple inside the four gates of Seoul, and the Nichirenshū ordered Sano Zenrei to fi nd a location in Korea where the head temple Ren’ei- ji in Shizuoka could be relocated. Both Ōzu and Sano requested that the colonial government rent each of them one thousand fi ve hundred tsubo of land, but the colonial government rejected them coldly. Lastly, the Sōtōshū’s agreement with the Wfnjong failed when the colonial government did not approve the religious offi ce of the Wfnjong. Th is article concludes that the colonial government had taken the clear position that Japa nese Buddhist missionary work needed to cool off .

Indeed, Governor- General Terauchi basically preferred the Japa nese Buddhist sects to pay more attention to education by establishing schools rather than establishing temples. Th is became one of the major reasons that the transfers of the Ren’ei- ji of the Nichirenshū and the Chion- in of the Jōdoshū did not materialize. Besides, their branch temples and parishioners, who were reluctant to see their own lineage and identity uprooted, objected to these plans.

Although the Temple Ordinance annulled all previously made agreements between Korean temples and Japa nese sects, this does not mean that Japa nese Buddhist sects stopped trying to expand their sectarian

1908	1909	1910	1911	1912	1913
Temples/halls						
Missionaries						
Japa nese members	,	,	,	,	,	,
Korean members	,	,	,	,	,	,

source: Chōsen Sōtokufu tōkei nenpō (1908– 1913).

infl uence in Korea. Japa nese Buddhist sects shifted their energies toward reaching out at least to Japa nese residents. Th ey continued to open new preaching halls and temples in the places where Japa nese took residence. Moreover, the rhetoric for reaching out to Koreans and Korean monks never diminished, although in actuality very little was done on this front.

Th e data in Table 7.1 show the increase in newly established temples, preaching halls, and missionaries of the collective Japa nese Buddhist sects from 1908 to 1913. From these data, one can see the steady growth of the number of Japa nese temples and of Japa nese Buddhists. By contrast, the number of Korean members affi liated with Japa nese Buddhist sects decreased rapidly in 1912 and 1913. However, by “Korean members” the chart may not mean so much that these were Koreans attending Japa nese temples but that they were members of Korean temples that had become branches of Japa nese sects. Th us, the drop- off in Korean members after 1911 may be most likely the result of Korean temples disassociating themselves with Japa nese sects upon the promulgation of the Temple Ordinance. (Scholar Sai Kindō also points out that in Taiwan Japa nese sects could claim that they had 19,943 Taiwanese members, though in reality these “members” were more likely members of Taiwanese temples and shrines affi liated with the Japa nese Buddhist sects.)
Th e relative freedom that Korean monks and Japa nese Buddhist sects had to collaborate greatly diminished with the Temple Ordinance. Ironically, the rivalry in propagation among Japa nese Buddhist sects, culminating in the Wfnjong- Sōtōshū alliance, played an important part in shaping the way the ordinance restricted the activities of Japa nese Buddhist sects.

Th E Wfnjong And Imjejong Disestablish

Having reined in the Japa nese Buddhists, the colonial government now had to deal with the brewing tensions between the Wfnjong and the Imjejong. In an eff ort to put an end to their sectarian competition, it convened the fi rst meeting of abbots of the thirty head temples on June 16, 1912. Yi Hoegwang had prepared well for the meeting. A few weeks earlier, he had already summoned eleven head monks newly appointed by the colonial government and passed a resolution: they would steadfastly abide by the Temple Ordinance and the regulations for enforcement; compose uniform temple regulations; and discuss the direction of the future of the Wfnjong. It is noticeable from this meeting that, after all the criticism poured on Yi and the Wfnjong, eleven head- temple abbots continued to align themselves with Yi. At this point, the Sōtōshū and Wfnjong alliance was history to them, and they were now willing to move on to what ever would improve their situation. Th ey rallied around the governor- general, who was not only not anti- Buddhist but even friendly in their eyes, and it seemed he wanted to protect Korean Buddhism, unlike the anti- Buddhist, Neo- Confucian government of Chosfn. For the fi rst time in centuries, Korean Buddhism came to have a state authority, albeit under colonial rule, that was inclusive and even supportive of Buddhism, and that showed no sign that it would marginalize the tradition.

Under pressure from the colonial government, on June 17 the abbots and delegates of twenty- four head temples, including O Sfngwfl and Pak Hanyfng of the Imjejong, all confi rmed the resolution that Yi and the eleven abbots had written. A crucial agreement was also reached between the two opposing sides. Th ey agreed that the titles of the Imjejong and the Wfnjong “would merely increase disputes” and, therefore aware of what the colonial government expected of them, they unanimously reached a conclusion to call Korean Buddhism Sfn Kyo Yangjong (Zen

and Sutra Study Dual Sect), giving up their sects’ titles. Th is title had been used during the Chosfn period by the Neo- Confucian government to signal that it was confi ning Buddhism to a minimal existence. Th e new title, albeit coerced by the colonial authority, signaled the unity and thus modernity of a Korean Buddhism that had legitimate standing.

To warn those who might not follow this decision on the local level, on June 26 the home minister sent a notice to the governors of the thirteen provinces titled “Concerning the Indiscreet Use of Sectarian Titles”:
Th e tenets and title of Chosfn Buddhism had not had any increase and change since the reform of the religion several hundred years ago. Recently, there have often been cases where some temples in your provinces use the title of Imje and take it as the name of the temple. . . . It creates suspicion among monks and causes them to split and regroup. . . . An appropriate mea sure should be taken then adhere to the previous standard.

Th e nameplates of both sects were swiftly removed from temple signs and offi cial documents, and replaced with Sfn Kyo Yangjong, ushering in a new period for Korean Buddhism under colonial rule and under the 1911 Temple Ordinance. Korean Buddhism’s own Korean government could not fulfi ll what it promised in the 1902 Temple Ordinance, especially in terms of a bureaucratic standing. Th e colonial government of Japan was about to do more for lifting Korean Buddhism’s low status than any government of the previous fi ve hundred years. Without doubt, though, the colonial government was not doing this altruistically. It was a strategic move to achieve hegemony over religious matters. Terauchi believed that Korean monks could and should play a leading role in inculcating colonial ideology into the Korean populace, in the same way that Meiji Buddhists had eff ectively done with respect to imperial ideology since the early Meiji. Th us, if Japa nese sectarianism had contributed to Korean Buddhism dividing it into two major sects, it was the colonial government that reined sectarianism in, disestablished them, and brought them under a single institutional identity.

Conclusion

Th e pre- colonial relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhism is incomplete unless the events of late 1910 into mid- 1912 are included. Even though this nearly two- year period is not technically speaking
“pre- colonial,” the fundamental nature of the pre- colonial Buddhist relationship had such inertia that it only changed when the colonial government doubled its eff orts to enforce regulatory legislation in June of 1912. Th ere were two “pre- colonial” qualities of the Korean- Japanese Buddhist relationship that persisted into the colonial period: the propensity among Korean monks and Japa nese priests to form alliances, and the belief among Japa nese Buddhist missionaries that, if their sect could become Korean Buddhism’s guardian, the sect would have acquired all of Korean Buddhism for itself. As such, the history of pre- colonial Buddhism in Korea must examine the events of post- annexation into mid1912: the creation and demise of the Sōtō- Wfnjong attempted alliance, Korean Buddhism’s return to central Seoul with the opening of the Kakhwang temple, the split of Korean Buddhism into two sects, Takeda’s last eff orts to push the alliance through, the eff ects of the 1911 Temple Ordinance, intensifi cation of multiple alliances, and continued sectarianism. Th us, to end the story in August 1910 is to leave out the climax of a dramatic narrative of an unusual era in Buddhist history.

One of the signs that the history of the Korean and Japa nese Buddhist relationship cannot be defi ned within a po liti cal framework exclusively is that the story of the pre- colonial Buddhist relationship extends beyond the date of Japan’s annexation of Korea in August 1910. If the modus operandi of Japa nese priests was to annex Korean Buddhism on behalf of their government, then that goal would have been achieved upon the Meiji government’s annexation of Korea, and no further work need be done. And yet Japa nese and Korean Buddhism continued their working relationship well into 1912. Th is extension of the relationship reveals that Korean and Japa nese Buddhists were motivated by factorssuch as sectarianism, competition from Christianity, protection of property, the reform of their tradition, and more— beyond the po liti cal.

Conclusion Toward A New History

Th e thesis of this book is that, from 1877 to 1912, Korean and Japa nese Buddhists had converging and diverging visions, interests, and strategies regarding their own tradition. By drawing on primary materials both from the Japa nese and Korean sides, as well as primary sources in English, this revised history sought to balance existing scholarship’s tendency to interpret this period through a po liti cal lens. For Japa nese Buddhists, much of their missionary work in Korea was driven by sectarianism, the discourse of propagation, reactions to Christianity, PanAsian Buddhist visions, and other personal and group motives. For Korean Buddhists, the protection and support of Japa nese Buddhists could rectify centuries of marginalization in the Chosfn dynasty, hardships in the disorder of Imperial Korea, and challenges from foreign and new religions. Moreover, Japa nese Buddhists helped orient Korean Buddhists to new ideas about modernity, institutional structures, education, and propagation. Th e result of this strategic relationship is that Japa nese Buddhists inadvertently helped to bring Korean Buddhism back to the center stage of the state and of religion in Korea. And Korean monks, by appropriating Japa nese Buddhists’ infl uence, were able to promote personal and institutional ambitions. Korean Buddhists then turned the idea of modernity against their mentors by charging that the sectarian strife within Japa nese Buddhism caused it to be stagnant while the harmonious blend of practices in Korean Buddhism signifi ed that it was a progressive, modern religion. Th is counter- representation would become more apparent in the writings of Korean Buddhist intellectuals during the subsequent colonial era. Certainly po liti cal ideology was woven into the relationship. But to say that po liti cal ideology was the only factor, and to cast Buddhist players on each side as only po liti cal operatives, is to miss the great, messy mix of other motivations.

Of these extra- political factors, sectarianism among Japa nese Buddhists played a decisive role. Yet, while this book has given priority to discussing the role of sectarianism, it would be a mistake to turn sectarianism into a monolithic frame of interpretation. Rather, sectarianism should be seen as just one among several important factors. As scholars revise and revise again the history of this period, other factors will be more fully explored. As has already been explained, the fear of Christianity’s success drove much of the discourse among Buddhists. It would also be interesting to examine how Buddhist doctrine and practice, apart from its politicization, infl uenced the decisions of priests and monks. Apologetics has a notable place in shaping conversations. In sum, neither sectarianism nor po liti cal gains, even taken together, entirely explain the period. Along those lines, it is important to understand that even sectarianism itself has diff erent strands. For example, a distinction could be made between institutional sectarianism and doctrinal sectarianism. Some Japa nese missionaries, like Sano, Inoue, Ōtani, and Takeda, had strong views that centered on the superiority of their sect in terms of administration, power, infl uence, history, and size. Others, like Okumura, Katō, and Hiroyasu had strong views centering on the superiority of the teachings of the sect— that, for example, the Lotus Sutra supersedes all other Buddhist scriptures, or that chanting the nenbutsu is more effi cacious for salvation than Zen meditation, or vice versa. Although these two aspects of sectarianism, which spilled over to Korean Buddhism in late 1910, are intricately intertwined in Japa nese Buddhists’ work, this would be one way to complexify the concept of sectarianism. Another way would be to recognize that, even within one sect, there were factions and disagreements regarding the future of Korean and Japa nese Buddhism in the colony and the empire. In the Sōtōshū, for example, Takeda wanted to push the Sōtō- Wfnjong alliance through; Sōtō administrators were reluctant to ally with socially low monks.

340 Conclusion

Shifting Discourse

Th e interplay between Japa nese and Korean Buddhism underwent three major shifts in accordance with changes in the po liti cal structure: after the Sino- Japanese War of 1894– 1895, after the Russo- Japanese War of 1904– 1905, and after annexation in 1910. Th ese shifts compelled Japa nese Buddhist missionaries to undertake diff erent strategies in forming relationships with the authorities and Korean monks. Th e fi rst two shifts, Japan’s victories in two wars, worked to the advantage of Japa nese Buddhists. Curiously, the third shift, Japan’s annexation of Korea, should have been a coup for Japa nese Buddhism’s advance, but it instead virtually shut off Japa nese Buddhism’s institutional access to Korean Buddhism.

Japan’s victory in the Sino- Japanese War of 1894– 1895 established Japan as the region’s power. Korea, in the midst of tremendous change as the Chosfn dynasty was disintegrating and a new imperial government was forming, was vulnerable to Japan’s increasing intrusions to dominate the peninsula. Th is gave Japa nese Buddhist missionaries the opportunity to swarm into Korea with po liti cal and religious capital that was stronger and more eff ective for them in Korea than it was in Japan. Th eir po liti cal power made many things possible, one of which was to transform the religious fi eld in Korea. Japa nese priests impressed Korean offi cials and were able to infl uence the Korean government to abolish the anti- Buddhist law. Sano and Hiroyasu (and, later, Inoue and Takeda) endeavored to bring Korean Buddhism’s physical presence inside the four gates of Seoul by holding massive ceremonies in the presence of Korean offi cials. Th ey also created new capital by taking the Two Truths doctrine, which was thought to apply only to the Japa nese emperor, and convincing the Korean emperor that he too was a protector of Buddhism, and that Buddhism likewise supported the Korean state. Japanese Buddhists gained considerable favor through this with the Korean court and Korean high offi cials. However, this capital notwithstanding, Japa nese Buddhist sects had so aggressively approached Korean monks in competition with each other to establish control over Korean Buddhism that the Korean government intervened by issuing the 1902 Temple Ordinance. Th e ordinance was an unsuccessful attempt to bring Korean Buddhism under the control of the Korean government. One could say that the Korean government showed little interest in Korean Buddhism until the Japa nese Buddhists did.

Th e second shift in the po liti cal and religious fi elds came with Japan’s making Korea a protectorate in 1905 and with the promulgation of the Regulations on Religion of 1906 by the resident- general. Japa nese Buddhist infl uence, albeit regulated, further increased as the result of the rise of Japan as the sole power in Korea. Th e regulations also signifi – cantly opened the fi eld to Korean monks by providing both protection and a degree of recognition through affi liations with Japa nese sects. Th e changing fi eld also altered the habitus of the Korean sangha. Korean monks, through the infl uence of Japa nese Buddhists, began establishing modern schools and envisioning a leading role of their tradition in a new era. As Korean Buddhists began to imagine an autonomous institution for themselves, Japa nese Buddhist sects envisioned taking over as much of Korean Buddhism as possible. Th is plan further increased the tensions between Korea and Japan.

Competition existed not only within Japa nese Buddhist sects but also between Japa nese Buddhist sects and pro- Japanese organizations such as the Ilchinhoe. On the Korean side, Korean Buddhists, Korean offi cials, and new religions clashed with each other. In sum, regardless of nationality, individuals, groups, and organizations vied to maximize their chances of survival and success in the tumultuous fi eld of late Chosfn Korea.

Th e third shift came with full annexation of Korea by Japan. Japa nese sects expected unlimited opportunity for their sects’ advancement in a colonized Korea and prepared a mass propagation movement. However, while the Japa nese colonial government assumed the entire duty of administration, Japa nese Buddhists did not receive the opportunity to assume the same prerogative of overseeing Korean Buddhism. In fact, just the opposite occurred: the colonial government cut Japa nese sects off from further work with Korean Buddhism. Th e 1911 Temple Ordinance permanently severed the two Buddhist communities institutionally. Th is policy on Korean Buddhism attests to the fact that the colonial government had its own vision about how to manage the Korean Buddhist tradition. Korean Buddhism became fully incorporated into the colonial authority’s bureaucratic structure.

342 Conclusion

Takeda, Yi, And Kim In A New Light

Th is book also explored the work that Takeda did for his sect in relation to Korean Buddhism, work that has been largely overlooked by scholars. Takeda’s case shows that Japa nese Buddhists were not just imperialists: they were also Buddhists who had aspirations for themselves, for their own sect, for Japa nese Buddhism, for the Buddhisms of other countries, and for Buddhism as a whole. Even before the inception of the Korean Wfnjong, Takeda contemplated establishing a modern institution to recover the rights of Korean monks and revitalize the old glory of Silla and Koryf Buddhism. Not only did he coin the name Wfnjong, defend the Wfnhgng temple from the clutches of the Jōdoshū and Korean offi –
cials, and strive to preserve the Buddhist trea sures, but he also devised the head- priest system for Korean Buddhism. Th is was the same system that Japa nese Buddhist sects followed, one that endowed the head priest with executive and nomination powers. It is clear that Takeda did his utmost to get the Korean and Japa nese governments to offi cially recognize a governing institution for Korean Buddhism by working his connections, pushing the Sōtō administration, and submitting petitions.

Takeda would not have undertaken this work on behalf of the Sōtōshū and the Wfnjong if he were simply an imperialist, especially not after annexation, when the aim of imperialists to take over Korea had been achieved.

Takeda is a good example of just how strong the force of sectarianism was for Japa nese Buddhists. After failing to get the Wfnjong approved and after annexation, Takeda’s sectarian aspirations, which he had been careful to hide in previous years, came to the surface. His fi nal treatise argues not only for a hierarchical alliance but also why the Sōtōshū, more than any other sect, should be the best candidate for the Wfnjong to form an alliance. However, its vision was not necessarily in line with the doubtful Sōtōshū, with the Wfnjong, which insisted an equal footing with the Sōtōshū, and with the colonial government, which desired to bring all religious aff airs in colonial Korea under its authority.

Just as Takeda was not simply an imperialist, so too was Yi Hoegwang not merely a collaborator selling out Korean Buddhism to the Japa nese. Yi’s priority was, more than anything else, the revival of the Korean sangha through institutional governance. Of course, at the inception of the Wfnjong, he associated the goals of the Wfnjong with serving the Korean nation and the Korean emperor. To some extent, Yi may have sincerely believed in this purpose, but it was also a strategy to accomplish an end for Korean Buddhism. In fact, he was often critical of the way the Chosfn state had treated Buddhism for fi ve hundred years, sentiments shared by most Korean monastics. When asked by the Nisshū shinpō reporter Shimada Tōsui as to how Yi understood the recent annexation of Korea by Japan, he answered, “Annexation is the concern of the secular and it is unrelated to those who renounced the secular world.” Even though Yi’s comment was formulated for the ears of a Japa nese listener, it also provides a glimpse of his attitude toward nation and religion. To him, the ends of establishing an autonomous institution were justifi ed by the means of allying with Japa nese Buddhism and the colonial government.

Th us, the conventional belief that Yi was anti- nationalist and proJapanese misses the point. He was not anti– or pro– Korean nation: he was steadfastly pro– Korean Buddhism in this period. Th is is not to say that Yi and other monks had no sense of nationality. In fact, a report fi led by a Japa nese police offi cer spying on a Wfnjong meeting in March 1909 indicates that monks viewed the health of the nation as intertwined with the health of Korean Buddhism. As they said, “Our country should unify religions under Buddhism to be [rich and strong] like Japan.” For Yi, without rejuvenating the Korean Buddhist tradition to become a state- supported religion, national identity was an empty concept. His religious identity was as strong as his national identity.

Th is book also brought to light a central fi gure, Kim Yfnggi, whom nationalist/anti- colonialist historiography has failed to include in its narrative. Th e discovery of Kim and his indispensible role in the alliance might exempt Yi from being considered the worse traitor among monks and grant that stigma to Kim instead. Fortunately, for Kim, his role is being exhumed in a time when scholars can grant more complexity.

Indeed, Kim too was neither a traitor nor a nationalist, but a patriotic Korean who also saw merit in working with Japa nese Buddhists to

344 Conclusion

advance Buddhism in Korea. Th e incorporation of Kim into the narrative helps clarify a number of unexplained events, including, most importantly, who facilitated the connection between the Wfnjong and the Sōtōshū.

Th E Bureaucratization Of Korean Buddhism

If one of the features of modernization is, as Max Weber proposed, the rationalization of social institutions, then it was the colonial government that ultimately modernized Korean Buddhism by bureaucratizing it through the 1911 Temple Ordinance. Th e colonial government possessed, in Bourdieu’s words, “power over the diff erent fi elds”; hence, the impact of the government’s decisions was enormous and far- reaching. Th e ordinance gave tremendous administrative power to the abbots of the thirtyone head temples, which provided the bureaucratic standing, causing many Korean monks to vie for these positions throughout the colonial and post- colonial periods.

Th us, as Kyungmoon Hwang argues, the second class became upwardly mobile because intrusions from the non- Sinitic world, and especially from the Japa nese, disrupted social and po liti cal structures. Th is disruption was felt acutely among monks, who had previously considered themselves, as did the rest of society, as much lower than the second class. Hwang aptly describes the marginalized social classes during late nineteenth- and early twentieth- century Chosfn:
Indeed, their discontent in the face of bureaucratic and social discrimination seems to have eased their ac cep tance of the Japa nese, who incorporated them in the ruling structure and whose colonial society allowed them to enjoy the fruits of elite status on a scale that the Chosfn system had not.

Th is is not to suggest that the social status of Korean monks entirely improved as a result of the colonial government’s policies. Th e bureau-

Conclusion 345

cratization of the Korean sangha, which provided administrative positions to monks, escalated corruption and power struggles. In turn, Korean Buddhism was retarded in becoming socially viable and continued to struggle with this in the colonial- and post- colonial periods. But the very fact that the monks, especially abbots of the head temples, were able to enjoy power, money, and prestige in colonial Korea was a major shift in the status of their religion. Th erefore, the state’s policies protecting and supporting Korean Buddhism, no matter how double intended, provided the social disruption that moved Korean monks up the social ladder.

What makes the contemporary Korean Buddhist sangha reluctant to revisit and face the pre- colonial and colonial history of Korean Buddhism is that the very country that was supposed to protect the sangha in fact marginalized monastics for centuries. In contrast, the colonial government oppressed the Korean people but provided legal protection to Korean Buddhism. Moreover, the role of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries as both colonizers and benefactors makes it challenging for Korean Buddhists to interpret the events of this period objectively.

Propagation: A Unique Experiment Of Modern Japa Nese Buddhism

How should the unpre ce dented foreign propagation driven by Meiji sectarian Buddhism be evaluated? Scholars unanimously agree that the Japa nese Buddhists’ foreign mission in Korea was an outright failure.

Japa nese Buddhism neither took control of Korean Buddhism nor retained Korean converts, not to mention Korean monastics. Scholars attribute this failure to the way in which Japa nese Buddhism acted as the forefront of Japan’s colonial and imperial ambitions. However, Japanese Buddhism’s po liti cal ideology was just one of many reasons it was unsuccessful in Korea.

For example, even though Japa nese Buddhists appropriated Christian propagation techniques, by 1910 it became clear that after three and a half de cades of missionary work in Korea, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries would not be as successful as Christian preachers in Korea were. It was a disappointing, painful realization. Japa nese Buddhists themselves debated why. Newspapers published analysis as the reality of Christianity’s success sunk in. One Japa nese Buddhist living in Seoul, using the alias

346 Conclusion

Byakue Dōjin, wrote a series of articles for the Chūgai nippō examining the major diff erences between Japa nese Buddhist missionaries (JBM)
and Christian missionaries (CM). He summarized:
JBM: care for the Japa nese primarily by way of funeral ser vices and memorial ceremonies.

CM: target Koreans. JBM: end up returning to Japan in two or three years. CM: stay more than thirty years for propagation. JBM: cannot speak Korean, almost like a mute. CM: are fl uent in Korean. JBM: are disregarded by the government authorities. CM: are treated amicably due to their contribution to education for Koreans. JBM: are envious and antagonistic among each other, prioritizing their own sectarian and personal interests.

CM: are cooperative among each other. JBM: have no experience [my emphasis] on how to propagate in Korea. Lack enthusiasm for propagation to Koreans. Predisposed to be introverts [hikkomi shugi; tend toward passivity].

CM: tend to be extroverts [deshabari shugi; pro- active].

Byakue’s observations are similar to what Takeda said in his report to the Sōtōshū: that missionary work was withering because priests lacked social skills, missionary fervor, and infl uence. Th ese characterizations, albeit generalized and overlooking po liti cal factors, indicate that many Japa nese Buddhists were aware that their disposition prevented them from achieving the rosy results they envisioned. Th at they chose Korean monastics as the fi rst target of conversion proves how inexperienced and unprepared they were in the market of foreign mission. Th ey were not aware that converting the same Buddhists would be, in a sense, far more diffi cult than converting non- believers or Christians. Simply put, they were not cut out to be missionaries in the fi rst place, nor would they acknowledge that failing. Rather, many Japa nese Buddhist missionaries argued that Christianity was outperforming them because the Christians had better fi nancial

Conclusion 347

support from abroad and Japa nese Buddhists did not receive enough preferential treatment from Japa nese authorities. For example, in the 1940s, Japa nese Buddhist missionaries in Manchuria reasoned lack of support from the government authorities as one of the reasons for the failure of their missionary work. However, as Byakue pointed out, most Japa nese Buddhist missionaries (118 in 1909, 95 in 1910, and 140 in 1911) did not stay that long in Korea. Th ey had temples in the homeland to tend to and did not plan to dedicate their entire lives to staying in Korea. Th e Japa nese Buddhist sects frequently replaced their missionaries every two or three years. Many who volunteered to be missionaries saw their work in Korea as a springboard for promotion through the ranks of their own sectarian institution. Th eir missionary fervor ran out rather quickly.

Another limit, in addition to their po liti cal involvement and sectarian competition, was the Japa nese missionaries’ inability to speak Korean. All the missionaries discussed in this book, with the exception of one, had to depend on translators. How important language was to propagation can be seen in the case of the Honganji priest Iwao Jōen’s successful recruitment of Koreans as a result of his ability to communicate in Korean.

Th is is not to say that Japa nese Buddhists made no progress in Korea.

Th ey did; up until 1911, they converted signifi cant numbers of Koreans. Th e Jōdoshū initially had great success, but like other sects, the Jōdoshū had diffi culty retaining those members. Many Korean converts left as soon as the Jōdoshū’s infl uence waned. Japa nese Buddhists’ dispositions could not suddenly be altered to ignite missionary fervor on par with the Christians’, despite all the internal and external reasons for doing so. Rather than adjusting themselves, Japa nese Buddhists reverted to their traditional way of coping with problems. Th ey turned toward the state authorities and complained that the government was not suffi ciently supporting Japa nese Buddhists. In their view, the government had an obligation to provide all possible con ve niences for their propagation programs. Th ese requests frustrated the colonial authorities, which felt that Japa nese Buddhists were not contributing nearly as signifi cantly to educational and social programs as the Christians were.

348 Conclusion

However, while Japa nese Buddhists’ recruitment of Korean natives was negligible during the remaining colonial period, they successfully retained their Japa nese parishioners through modern programs and education in colonial Korea, in the metropole, and in Japan’s empire.

Th E Answer: Who Benefi Ted More?

In the pre- modern years and the de cades leading up to annexation, Korean monastics were often thought of as soldiers, bridge and fortress builders, craftsmen, corvée laborers, and entertainers for local yangban,
and they had an indelible stigma as people who had abandoned the social, military, and familial obligations that Neo- Confucian teachings prioritized. Th e modern era, albeit under repressive colonial rule, assigned Korean monks a new task of, as Weber put it in his discussion of Korean Buddhism, performing a “pacifying domestication of the conquered land.” In return, Korean monastics would fi nally secure a diminished version of what they had long yearned for: ending exploitation and confi scation by central and local authorities, the guarantee of basic rights, and an unambiguous, state- recognized identity as monastics. Whereas at one time monks could not even pass through the gate of central Seoul, monastics now took residence there and could freely disseminate Buddhist teachings to Seoulites. Leading monks clad in colorful robes were able to frequent the Colonial- Government Offi ce grandly and proudly, riding rickshaws.

Although Korean Buddhism, by 1912, was in a much better state than at the end of the nineteenth century, it still could not claim to rival the resources and strength of Japa nese Buddhism. However, over the same de cades, the work Japa nese Buddhists did in Korea did not signifi cantly add to their power, resources, or standing. Japa nese Buddhists even managed to cause frustration with the Japa nese authorities in Korea.

Japa nese Buddhists did not succeed in taking over a single Korean temple or converting and retaining even a fraction of Korean monks. In terms of programs that the Japa nese authorities in Korea hoped for, such as modern education and social welfare, the Christians far surpassed the

Conclusion 349

Japa nese Buddhists. Korean monks, however, successfully brought their religion back to the center of Seoul and to other major cities, mobilized education and propagation programs, published their own journals, and formed an institutional identity that lasted for the remainder of the colonial period. Looked at this way, it is Korean Buddhist monks who benefi ted more than Japa nese Buddhist missionaries from the relationship in the pre- and early colonial period.

In conclusion, the relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhism from 1877 to 1912 was driven by a multitude of motivations, providing scholars with a fascinating period in which the unique, modern features of Japa nese and Korean Buddhism emerged. Th is period will continue to yield narratives and cases for those in the study of religion to understand the ways in which Buddhist traditions, one as the colonizer and the other the colonized, changed as a result of dynamic cultural contact with each other. Th is book is just a beginning for more rigorous research in the future. Although this study incorporated sources from the two sides, more personal letters and biographies written by Japa nese and Korean Buddhists will provide an even richer, fuller picture. Korean primary sources remain to be found and Japa nese Buddhist sects have a wealth of materials that are as yet unavailable to scholars. Th ese sources, in addition to archives from Buddhist institutions in Taiwan, China, and other Asian countries, will enable scholars to examine how the po liti cal, social, and religious conditions of each country created diverse approaches from Japa nese Buddhists and multiple, creative responses to Japa nese Buddhism and colonialism from the native Buddhist traditions.

Postscript Th E Enduring Impact Of The 1911 Temple Ordinance

Impact On Institutional Korean Buddhism

In the fi rst several years after the promulgation of the 1911 Temple Ordinance, Korean Buddhism underwent a transformation similar to what early Meiji Buddhism had experienced. All the details on temples, monastics, properties, and the head- branch relations were numbered, categorized, reported, and approved by the colonial government. By mid1913, the institutionalization and bureaucratization of Korean Buddhism was complete. Th e governor- general had appointed the abbots of head temples, while provincial governors fi lled positions in branch temples. In Seoul, an ecclesiastical meeting offi ce for the abbots of the thirty head temples was set up; it played a role similar to the central religious offi ces of the Japa nese Buddhist sects, though it lacked the power to make nominations.

Th roughout the colonial period, Korean monastics vied for the head monk positions and for the position of the president of the meeting offi ce, creating factions and bitter confl icts. Th e enormous administrative power and privileges with which the head abbots were imbued enabled them to disrobe any disobedient monk, thus handcuffi ng any kind of protest from lower ranks. In addition, the practice of clerical marriage and meat eating (nikujiki saitai) became common among those monks who had suffi cient resources (most of which belonged to their temple) to support their family. Th is comfortable lifestyle made the limited abbot positions even more sought after. Th ese married abbots did their best to

Postscript 351

hold on to their position, and funneled limited temple resources into supporting their families. Since Korean Buddhism did not have the orga nized support system that Japa nese Buddhism had, such as parishioners (danka) who sustained the temples through funerals, the Korean temple economy became drained. By 1929, the temples were 600,000 yen in debt. Th e meeting offi ce of the head monks was helpless to resolve this problem and failed to implement reforms because the leader of the meeting offi ce did not possess executive power. By default, Korean Buddhism became divided into thirty- one head temples, each with their own power structure.

By the early 1920s, ju nior monks began to resent corrupt abbots and blamed the meeting offi ce for failing to address the problem. Th ese monks believed that Korean Buddhism’s diffi culties were rooted in the way that the Temple Ordinance restricted the executive authority of the central administrative body. In 1921, monks launched a movement to revise or abolish the ordinance. Interestingly, unknown to the monks, the colonial government had already begun planning the year before to establish a great head temple that could administrate all of Korean Buddhism under the leadership of a head monk. Th is plan arose from the colonial government’s rude awakening to the deep resentment among Koreans, expressed in the massive March First Movement of 1919, which demanded in de pen dence from Japan. Th e government began to consider how Korean Buddhism could be useful in pacifying Koreans under colonial rule. However, Korean monks protested the Temple Ordinance before the colonial government acted on the plan. Han Yong’un, Pak Hanyfng, Chin Chingng, and To Chinho, the former members of the Imjejong, again took a leading role and set up a new central offi ce, the Ch’ongmuwfn (Central Offi ce), which was meant to be in opposition to the Kyomuwfn (Offi ce of the Th irty Head Priests). Th e tension between these two factions escalated into outright violence until the colonial government intervened, as it had done in 1912, getting both parties to merge into the Chungang Kyomuwfn (Central Administrative Offi ce) in 1924.

Yet, despite petitions to Governor- General Saitō, the overall structure of

352 Postscript

the original 1911 Temple Ordinance was not changed. However, in 1928 a few modifi cations to some of the minor clauses included a council system (chonghoe and shūkai) and revived the demo cratic system of election at temples. In 1929, in order to prevent even greater deterioration of the temple economy, the government further restricted the power of the abbots of the head temples and began micromanaging the administration of temple properties. Nevertheless, despite having executive power at a broad level, the colonial government had limited control over Korean temples at a local level. By 1934, the debt of temples had increased to 1 million yen.

In the early 1930s, a movement to establish a great head temple
(Ch’ongbonsan undong) to solve the structural problems of Korean Buddhism gained momentum, along with reform programs, formulated again by Han Yong’un and young Buddhist monks. Th ey demanded that the head of such a great head temple receive the nomination and executive powers that the colonial government was retaining. However, granting this much autonomy to a Korean Buddhist institution was the last thing that the colonial authorities desired for a range of reasons.

However, in the late 1930s, with the Manchurian Incident of 1931 and the second Sino- Japanese War in 1937, the colonial government reconsidered more seriously the idea of a Korean Buddhist institution with greater autonomy. Th e colonial government realized it could use Korean Buddhists to mobilize the Korean populace in Japan’s total war eff ort and to pacify Manchuria, where over one million Korean expatriates lived. It envisioned Korean monks performing the same ser vice in newly conquered lands as Japa nese Buddhist priests had in Korea. Th us, to make Korean Buddhism more eff ective, it allowed Korean Buddhism to be centralized under a single, great temple by modifying the 1911 Temple Ordinance.

Th e colonial authorities even provided the temple itself by confi scating one of the most beautiful, traditional- style buildings in Korea at the time, called Sibilchfn. Th is temple- like building had belonged to a new religion, Poch’fn’gyo, which had been forcibly disestablished as part of the 1935 policy on eradicating pseudo- religions (ruiji shūkyō). Th e colonial government then assisted the Korean Buddhist community with the purchase, disassembly, and relocation of Sibilchfn from southwest Korea to central Seoul. Th e new temple, completed in 1937, physically replaced Kakhwangsa, which most likely had been taken down, and was named the Great Head T’aego Temple.

Soon after, the colonial authorities permitted the Korean Buddhist Chogye Order (Taehan Pulgyo Chogyejong) to be formed. New institutional regulations and temple codes were devised, and spiritual and administrative heads were nominated by the colonial government. Nevertheless, these developments were superfi cial. Th e colonial government still did not grant Korean monks executive power. In late 1942, when Japan’s total war eff ort was intensifying and colonial Korea’s future became uncertain, there were signs that some Korean temples again started to seek protection from and alliances with Japa nese Buddhist sects. However, the colonial government did not allow these to become legitimate.

In short, despite these changes on the surface, such as a new head temple and so on, the underlying power structure of the 1911 Temple Ordinance remained in eff ect.

Only with the end of colonial rule in 1945 was the 1911 Temple Ordinance abolished. However, much of the structure that the 1911 Temple Ordinance put in place, such as the head- branch temple system, was not changed in the post- colonial period. Until the last few de cades, the Korean government continued to control temple properties, under the pretext of protecting cultural trea sures, through a modifi ed provision of the Temple Ordinance called the Law on the Preservation of Traditional Temples (Chfnt’ong sach’al pojonp’ fp). Moreover, the concentration of power in the head positions created in the colonial period was held over.

Despite de cades of reform eff orts among monks, the posts for the administrative head of the Chogye order and for the abbots of the head temples have continued to be the foci of power struggles.

In sum, the 1911 Temple Ordinance codifi ed a lasting institutional structure for modern Korean Buddhism. It put an end to the marginalization of Korean Buddhism and gave it legal protection, but the bureaucratization of the Korean clergy created internal power struggles in the

354 Postscript

fi eld of this new Korean Buddhist institution. Colonial, and to a large extent post- colonial, Buddhism has wrestled with seemingly intractable institutional problems. In 1970, after two de cades of confl ict within post- colonial Korean Buddhism, it split into the Chogye and T’aego orders. Th is separation did not ameliorate the problems of the colonial legacy, however: there continue to be power struggles both within and between the two.

Impact On The Relationship Between Korean And Japa Nese Buddhism

Governor- General Terauchi became disappointed with the Japa nese Buddhist missionaries because he believed that they had contributed to the instability of Korean Buddhism. Th e issuance of the 1911 Temple Ordinance made impossible any future attempt of Japa nese Buddhist missionaries to take over Korean temples. By bounding off Korean Buddhism, the ordinance sought to have Korean Buddhism develop in depen dently from Japa nese Buddhism. Because the ordinance provided an inseparable tie between Korean Buddhism and the state, Korean monks no longer needed to seek the po liti cal infl uence of Japa nese Buddhist sects. In 1915, the new Regulations on the Propagation of Religion (fukyō kisoku), which replaced the 1906 version, was promulgated to oversee all other religions, including Japa nese Buddhism. Both Korean Buddhism and Confucianism were supervised separately. As a result, the two Buddhisms were placed under the diff erent legal systems. Th is setup permanently changed the relationship between the two Buddhist communities.

While institutional contact waned, Japa nese and Korean Buddhists continued to have personal contact and intellectual debates in writing. In fact, Korean monks’ individual relationships with Japa nese Buddhists conspicuously increased during the colonial period. After annexation, Korea received an infl ux of Japa nese Buddhist priests, which naturally fostered greater contact between priests and Korean monks. Moreover, a number of Japa nese Buddhist scholars, such as Eda Toshio, taught at schools for Korean monastics in Korea, and over a hundred of Korean monks studied in Japan at universities such as Komazawa (Sōtōshū), Hanazano (Rinzaishū), Taishō (Jōdoshū), Ryūkoku (Nishi Honganji), Ōtani (Higashi Honganji), and other Buddhist and secular institutions. When Korean monks returned from their studies in Japan, they worked as temple administrators, educators, and propagators in their own monasteries. As a result, Korean Buddhism no longer needed Japa nese priests to instruct them in education and propagation to the extent that they had in the pre- colonial period. Th ese young monks brought knowledge and reform programs directly from Japan and implemented them by educating novices and opening propagation centers. Th ey further shared intellectual ideas through the written word about how to make their religion socially relevant. Th e abbots of the thirty- one head temples also required less support from Japa nese priests, since the state authority, namely the colonial government, worked directly with them. Th is shift in the po liti cal and religious landscape attenuated the pre- colonial, codependent relationship between Korean and Japa nese Buddhists, and they tended to their own communities separately without interfering with each other.

After the March First Movement, in 1919, Governor- General Saitō expressed his disappointment that not only Korean Buddhism but also Japa nese Buddhism had failed to pacify the populace. He was especially doubtful about the capability of Japa nese Buddhists to assimilate Koreans into Japan’s empire through propagation. A new eff ort to ramp up Japa nese Buddhism’s outreach came not from the priests of the sects but from Japa nese lay Buddhists who served as colonial administrators. Abe Mitsue (aka Abe Mubutsu, 1862– 1936) and Nakamura Kentarō (1883–?), in close consultation with Saitō, established the Association of Korean Buddhism (Chōsen Bukkyōdan; originally the Chōsen Bukkyō taikai), in 1920 with the aim to revitalize Korean Buddhism, increase mutual understanding between Japa nese and Korean Buddhism, and ultimately

356 Postscript

assimilate Korea more thoroughly into Japan. One of their major programs was to hold the Buddhist Conference of Korea (Chōsen Bukkyō Daikai)
in September 1929, inviting more than fi ve hundred Japa nese and Korean priests to the colonial government’s offi ce, where this conference was held. For intellectual exchange, they also began publishing the monthly journal Korean Buddhism (Chōsen Bukkyō) in which news and scholarly articles on Korean and Japa nese Buddhism were featured in both languages. Th e most high- profi le accomplishment of their program was to hold a unifi ed Buddha’s birthday festival (hana matsuri). Previously, the Buddha’s birthday celebration was held on diff erent days in the Korean and Japa nese Buddhist communities: Japa nese Buddhists celebrated on April 8, according to the solar calendar, and Korean Buddhists used the lunar calendar. Th e fi rst combined festival was held on May 26, 1928, in central Seoul, and this event continued annually until the end of the colonial period.

Despite these programs, and over years of eff ort, the Association of Korean Buddhism was largely unsuccessful in bringing the two traditions together. For example, the 1929 Buddhist Conference, lauded as
“the great orchestra of Chosfn Buddhism,” was disappointing because, as one Japa nese Buddhist missionary in Korea lamented, it “betrayed” people’s expectations by being too bureaucratic and passive. Also, after the fi rst couple of issues, Korean Buddhism (Chōsen Bukkyō) soon stopped including Korean translations. Moreover, even though there were some meaningful intellectual debates on issues such as clerical marriage, the predominant voice of the journal was given over to the Japa nese. Likewise, the Buddha’s birthday ceremony failed to bring the two communities together beyond that one day of celebration, and, when the Japa nese reverted the celebration date to the solar calendar in 1937, Korean Buddhists were less enthusiastic about participating because they continued to use the lunar date. Many factors inhibited the two Buddhisms from working together, such as the discriminatory views Japa nese Buddhists had against Korean Buddhists and vice versa, problems with communication due to language diff erence, and the indiff erence, in a certain way, of both Buddhist communities toward each other in the fi rst place.

More importantly, Korean Buddhists were no longer reliant on Japanese Buddhists to protect them, so there was no impetus for Korean Buddhism to seek out Japa nese Buddhism for institutional assistance. Rather, Korean Buddhists turned their energies toward making their tradition socially viable within the structure of the 1911 Temple Ordinance.

Korean Buddhists used the Temple Ordinance at times to assert their in de pen dence and distinctive identity from Japa nese Buddhism. For example, in 1930, To Chinho, a founding member of the Imjejong, attended the Pan- Pacifi c Buddhist Youth Conference held in Hawaii as a representative of Korean Buddhism. But attendance as a Korean Buddhist delegate was protested by Japa nese representatives who argued that To Chinho should be a part of Japan’s Buddhist delegates, since Korea was a colony of Japan. To Chinho rebuked them for not recognizing the in de pen dent status of Korean Buddhism. He also chastised a Japa nese priest (missionary) residing in colonial Korea who wanted to attend as a representative of Chosfn (i.e., Korean) Buddhism. To Chinho founded his argument on the Temple Ordinance: Korean Buddhism was under protection of the 1911 Temple Ordinance while Japa nese Buddhism, even in colonial Korea, was not. To Chinho successfully persuaded the Japa nese representatives of his right to attend as a Chosfn Buddhist and also managed to get the Japa nese priest excluded from representing Korean Buddhism.

At the same time, the ordinance limited the work of Korean Buddhists. Korean monks residing in Japan who attempted to establish Korean temples in Ōsaka and other cities failed to receive permission from the Japa nese government. Since they were living outside of Korea, they were neither protected by the Temple Ordinance nor were there legal provisions in Japan that could be applied to their applications for

358 Postscript

opening Korean temples. Similarly, Yi Hoegwang was prevented from forming alliances with Japa nese Buddhist sects in 1920 and 1926 because the ordinance prohibited it. While many Korean monastics were bitter about the repressive consequences of this ordinance, they nonetheless deployed it as a shield whenever threatened by an incursion from Japanese Buddhism.

While the ordinance legally separated the two Buddhisms, Japa nese Buddhists made several attempts to promote the unity of Japa nese and Korean Buddhism through symbolism and public events. Th ese eff orts were fundamentally in line with two governmental ideologies: integrating Korea into Japan (naisen yūwa), which was promoted in the 1920s and ’30s, and making Korea and Japan one body (naisen ittai), which was promoted in the late 1930s. In early 1932, Sōtō Buddhists believed that Japa nese and Korean Buddhists shared faith in the female bodhisattva Kannon (Korean, Kwangm). Th us, as a symbol of spiritual integration, they established Kannon- dō (Kannon Hall) in the former Sōtō branch temple in central Seoul. Th ey enshrined a statue of Kannon owned by the former governor- general Saitō, who was also a devout Buddhist. Around the same time, Japa nese Buddhists worked with the colonial government to complete Hakubun- ji Temple (aka Itō Hirobumi- ji) in commemoration of the late Itō’s accomplishments in Korea and, more importantly, for the symbolic unity of Japan and Korea (and also for the Buddhisms of both countries). As a fi nal example, in 1939 the city of Puyf, in the Ch’ungbuk prefecture, emerged as the optimal site for creating a Shinto capital. Th e colonial government launched the construction of a national Shinto shrine there as a way to complete implementation of naisen ittai ideology. Japa nese Buddhists followed on the coattails of this grand project by honing in on the historical signifi – cance of the city in the relationship between Japan and Korea. In Korea’s Paekche period, a golden Buddha statue from this city was given as a gift to Japan and enshrined in the Zenkō- ji temple in the Nagano prefecture.

Colonial Japa nese Buddhists planned to bring the statue back to Puyf and build a temple to make the city the spiritual capital of Japa nese and

Postscript 359

Korean Buddhism. Yet, despite these eff orts on the part of the Japa nese Buddhists, Korean and Japa nese Buddhism continued to coexist as two distinctive families under one roof.

Th e enduring impact of the Temple Ordinance of 1911 is that, by separating the Korean and Japa nese Buddhists and by providing some autonomy to Korean Buddhism, the ordinance allowed Korean Buddhism to solidify its institutional identity. With this freedom, Korean Buddhists began to have a vision of a modern, lay- centered, family- centered, people’s Buddhism— not unlike that of Japa nese Buddhism. Under the colonial policies for Korean Buddhism, Korean Buddhism improved its visibility in cities, society, and politics. Th ough that visibility may not seem like much in the greater context of the religious landscape of the time, Korean Buddhism’s noticeable presence in the colonial period marks a signifi cant comeback, particularly relative to its marginalization in the Chosfn period.

15. Kyfngju Pulgyo, October 3, 1939.

Reference Matter Glossary Works Cited Index

Glossary

Abe Mitsuie ۦោΒ۾ (Mubutsu ็˱) Aeguk kyemong undong ँ֦Եᐬដс aeguk sgngnyf ँ֦ʹ̐ Agwanp’ach’fn ̔ᧅਹឥ Aikoku fujinkai ँ֟ڤʲ˙ Ajia rentai ʡᇙʡ᝹ߌ Akamatsu Renjō ᚩ୍᝹ו Aka-zawa Akiyoshi ᚩ෵ʮና Akiyama Fumio Ⴉݙ઄ଛ An’guk ۦ֦ Anbyfnۦឲ Anirwfn ۦកᣛ ܡ܂ۦ Anjfksa Aoyagi Nanmei ᥂୼Ѿσ Arai Hakuseki ઘʝ࿇ဵ Arai Sekizen ઘʝဵ႕ Asahi Fudake લޣ޿ Asahi Nichimyō લબᎥ Asakusa Honganji ഼Ꮟଥᦖܡ Atsumi Kaien අኋٗሪ ߹ߛ Bakufu bosatsu ᏷ᑺ Bukkyō kōninkyō undō ʽੵΦᗢੵដс

Bukkyō seiten ʽੵ዆έ Bukkyōjō no hōkokusho ʽੵɤƵױөଋ bunka seisaku ઄џ੫ᄸ Byakue Dōjin ࿇̈ទʲ byōzan kōgaku or Miaoshan xingxue ፟ۘݙࠐ Ch’a Hongsik ᜃ࠴௢ Ch’angdfkkung ଛ५ࡍ Ch’egwan Ꭰፑ ch’igimgwanмːۭ ch’inil ᖘબ ch’inil sgngnyf ᖘબʹ̐ Ch’oe Ch’wihf ޗࢄࢹ) or Sfk Sangsun ᔑܴᘒ) Ch’oe Che’u ࢹබে Ch’oe Kinam څݭࢹ Ch’oe Sihyfng ࢹଲԞ Ch’oeggn paengnyfn’gan Chosfn Pulgyo kaegwan Ḟច ᪅ᡊᛱ ᵂ᭧ᫌ᝟ ᜁᝊ Ch’fn Ilch’fng ٺӣഴ Ch’fn’gongsim Ѳსࡽ Ch’ondogyo ޻ᒸ૘ ch’ong ponsan undong ᄑஈ࢜ᒳٖ Ch’ong ponsanje ቁଥݙЃ

364 Glossary

Ch’fnggok ᗳᏔ Ch’ongjijong જਜ਼ࡁ Ch’ongmuwfn ᄑٙᖨ ch’ongsfp જૈ Ch’ fnt’ae sagyogi ڳ޻ܷ૘׌ Ch’fnt’aebopsajong ۬Ҿഗʗم Ch’fnt’aesojajong مҾེێ۬ Ch’wihyfn ܺᚓ chabyfk ᤙ࡛ Chaemyfng ζ઼ Chaeyfng ֱᎱ chajukwfn ፓɺಀ Chang Pfbun ࠾ഗᤠ Chasuwfn एصᣛ Chagnjongएࢺ۬ Chen GongboᣤΦҀ Chiho ֳಠ Chin Chingng ᣤᤨॄ Ching Chitung ဋϢ᪙ Chinfn or Shingon ကᖪ Chion-inုࢺᣛ Chisan-ha ૣݙഹ Cho Myfnghf ᚶ઼ᒦ Cho Yfnha ᚶ൯Ꮧ Chogyejong ଌඬ۬ Chfksfk დဵ Chokuninkan мːۭ Chfn Pongjun ׫ຽൡ Chfndo ͢ទ Chfng Tojfn៌ទ͢ Chonggyfngnok ࡁᕫᕆ Chonghoe ۬଒ Chfngmi ɟଣ chongmuwfn ۬фᣛ Chfngfbwfn ൨అᣛ Chfngt’o ൨֮ Chfnt’ong sach’al pojonp’ fp ͢ᇳܡІ ഗۏ̞ Chōsen Bukkyō ଝᩗ˱ੵ

Chōsen Bukkyō taikai ଝᩗ˱ੵل଒ Chōsen Bukkyōdan ଝᩗ˱ੵ֬ Chōsen jisatsu shiryō ଝᩗܡІᚇઌ Chōsen rōnin no hakumaiଝᩗൄʲ Ƶ࿇ᆌ Chōsen shūkyō shi ଝᩗ۬ੵӀ Chōshū (han) ᢜެ(ᒌ) Chosfn Imjejong Chongmuwfn ଝᩗ ፒฃ۬ ۬фᣛ Chosfn Pulgyo chinhwa charyo ஀ᚗ ૱᐀ٮᒪ՘૘ Chosfn Pulgyo wflbo ஀ᩗ˱૘ଓױ Chosfn Pulgyo yusillon ஀ᚗ՘૘ყૼ᎜ Chūgai nippō ɴؼબױ Chugu ᗂೢ Chūkyōin ɴੵᣛ Chungang Kyomuwfn ӳ޿૘ٙᖨ Chungbonsan ɴଥݙ Chungch’uwfn ɴ౅ᣛ Chungdojongɴទ۬ Chunghgngsa ɴ፟ܡ Chungin ɴʲ Chgngsimsa ᘬܡࡽ Daihō لഗ Daijikkyō لᤍᇦ Daikyōin لੵᣛ Dainichikyō لબᇦ Daisei Kyōkai ل዆ੵ଒ danka seido ౡ۾Ѓ߻ dendō ˛ទ deshabari shugi ƮƞNJƷǑɺና Eda Toshio ೪ཊ̕ᤋ Eihei-ji ೞܡߣ ekkyō ᚵ؊ Enshū rokutai ron ֪۬Χᘈᗿ fukei jiken ɦ੻ʗˎ fukoku kyōhei ܉֟࠿Ϊ Fukuda Gyōkai ႙ཊᔤᗪ Fukuzawa Yukichi ႙෵ᘋӊ

Glossary 365

ੵ
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fukyō fukyō kisoku ޿ੵᖎЋ Fukyō shinjiten ޿ੵઘ᜻έ ੵొ޿ fukyōken fukyōsen ޿ੵ२ ߊੵ޿ fukyōshi Furukawa Taikō Ҵޫن፯ fushin fuko ɦઘɦҴ ݑ˂ fuzoku fuzoku rengō ˂ݑ᝹Ӊ gaikyō nan ؼጇᤛ gappei Ӊ˹ Genkai-nada ໧མฤ gensan yūka ໧ᚡ߬џ Gen’yōsha ໧ദၻ gōjōnan Ӓɤᤛ Gokoku Aihō ᘾ֟ँഗ Gokoku soku Gohō ᘾ֟Ҋᘾഗ gonan ʜᤛ Gotō Tangan ࡨᒊᄐݢ Gyōgi ᔤס Gyōsan Ejaku ˌݙट܂ Haeinsa ൈʴܡ haibutsu kishaku ࠅʽೃ៺ Hakubun-ji Ҁ઄ܡ Hakujō Ekai ࿈ɢॏൈ Hamhf Kihwa ഝወࣜ۞ Han Kyfngwfn ᥫ૟ඤ Han Sfrho ᥫᤝඔ Han Yong’un ᘇ↝ᗝ Han’guk Pulgyo kaehyfgan ᘇ݀՘ ૘૑ᗹ௛ Hana Matsuri ᎚ႎǑ hang’il ҩબ hatto ഗ߻ Hayashi Gonsuke ୖొЯ Higashi Honganji େଥᦖܡ hikkomi shugi ࠱ƪᝉdžɺና Hioki Mokusen બቼᬁ˃ Hirano Esui ߣ៿ࣁᆨ	Hirotsu Sessan ࠴മᗰɣ Hiroyasu Shinzui ۦࠔက᣽ Hf Kyun ፨ၬ Hf Wi ᖽኒ hogo ̞ᘾ hōhon hanshi ױଥҩٿ Hōkkeshū ഗᏹ۬ Hōmyaku ഗጊ Hong Kgngsfp രይ๷ Hong Wflch’o രଓϺ Honganji-ha ଥᦖܡഹ Honge Nisshō ଥџબܨ Hongyfngnae ര૟˿ hōnin shugi ੪ːɺና honji suijaku ଥֳׅ᝞ hon-matsu ଥତ Honmon-jiଥᢝܡ Honmyō-ji ଥܡٲ Honpa Honganji ଥഹଥᦖܡ Hori Nichion ףબඇ Horio Kanmu ף݁ᙲф Hosan Munjun ᒢݙ઄̕ Hossō ഗ࿴ Hfgngdang Pou ወਁݰୄᗘ Huayen ᏹև Hgibangsa Ոચܡ Hgng’in ፟ʴ Hgngch’fnsa ፟ܡم Hwagyesa ᏹඬܡ Hwalbindang ഷ᙮ᬈ hwanbuyfkcho ਎ຈાႄ Hwang Yfngdam ᛐ୐ୣ Hwanghyfn ᛐຖ Hwangsfng sinmun ࿍וઘዉ Hwafmjongᏹև۬ Hwafmsa ᏹևܡ hyangni ᓮۀ Hyangun ᧗ᤠ Hyegwan टย Hyegyfn टץ

366 Glossary

Hyfnjong ᦛ۬ Ilchinhoe ɞ᝽଒ imin fukyō Ⴗೕ޿ੵ Imje Wfnjong Chodongjong Ch’ongmuwfn ᇑබ݃ࡁୱ⇞ࡁᄑ ٙᖨ Imjejong ᇑබࡁ Imjin تᝃ Inami Senshō ʝഝෟࡗ Inch’fnʴޫ Inoue Enryō ʝɤβʓ Inoue Genshin ʝɤ໧က Inoue Tetsujirō ʝɤԞಆଛ Insuwfn ʴصᣛ Iryūmin ni taisuru fukyō jōtai तཝೕ ƲܢƠǒ޿ੵະऑ Ishikawa Shūntai ဵޫ፫Ҿ Ishikawa Sodō ဵޫᇒᄌ Ishūkai ุ۬˙ Itō Hirobumi ˓ᒊҀ઄ Itō Kendō˓ᒊᚓទ Iwao Jōen ީߑ֪ Iwai Chikaiݢʝૣൈ Izan ͱݙ Jihō ܡഗ Jihō ፓ᎛ ܛᣛܡ Jiinryō jikkō kisoku ۳ᔤᖎЋ jinken ʲొ jiriki ፓЫ Jishū ૎۬ jiyū minken undō ፓཋೕొដс Jōdo kyōhō ഻֮ੵױ Jōdosanbu kyō ഻֮ɣោᇦ Jōdoshū ഻֮۬ Jōkyō-ji উੵܡ jukkumi ѱᇢ Jūzen ѱՀ Kabo Kyfngjang ཌѶଈ࠾ Kaehwa ᢣџ

Kaehwadang ᢣџᬈ Kaehyfk ੨᥍ kaeinjfk chasin kukkaron ̯ʲ࿋ ፓ᛺ ֦۾ᗿ Kaesfng ᢣו Kaewfnsa ᢣΐܡ kaigai fukyō ൈ޿ؼੵ kaikyō ᢣੵ kaji kitō Э৅ၿႏ Kakhwang Temple ᖝ࿍ܡ Kamatsu Yūdō ୍ܰᤋទ kamatsujō Эତະ Kamsfnwfl ༿፸ଓ Kan Bukkyō saikōsho эʽੵζ፟ଋ Kan’gyesa Ꮽൺܡ Kanchō ᅒᢜ kanchō seido ᅒᢜЃ߻ Kaneo Jirō ᠂݁ಆឿ Kanetake Jūndō ᠂ಟ᥹ទ Kang Taeryfn لچᑄ Kang Wi ߳ໍ Kang Yumun چᕔ઄ Kang Yuwei ࠁଔุ Kanghwa೪ᏹ Kankoku Bukkyō no saikō ᥫ֟˱ੵƵζ፟ Kankoku kaikyō kisoku ᥫ֟ᢣੵᖎЋ Kannon-dō ᖜᥰפ kanri seigan ᅒ༁ᗺᦖ kanrisha ᅒ༁኱ ൷ߢ kanshō Kapsin chfngyfn ཌཌྷ੫ᙂ Kasahara Kenju ᄣҖ်ܣ Kasuisaiҽဎઈ Katō Bunkyō Эᒊ઄ੵ Katō Kiyomasa Эᒊ൴ಝ Katō Seiryō Эᒊ൴ʮ Katō Totsudō Эᒊӹפ

Glossary 367

Kawakami Zenbē ޫɤՀΪᔪ Kawamura Kingorō ഇଶ᠂ʜឿ Kegonᏹҟ keikoku ᘶө Keirin ᫌୖ Kennin Mokurai ࠟʴᬀᤢ Kennin-ji ࠟʴܡ Kenpeitai ़Ϊᣮ Kenshō-ji ᦕ዆ܡ kesa ᔻᕙ Kim Ch’fngbong ᠂൴ݷ Kim Chisun ᠂ʀ൮ Kim Chfngho ᠂ಝൃ Kim Haeun ᠂ൈᤠ Kim Hongjip ᠂࠴ᤍ Kim Hyfnam ᠂໧߿ Kim Kajin ᠂գᡫ Kim Ku ᠂ʉ Kim Kuha ᠂ʉഇ Kim Kgmdam ᠂ᡍ෣ Kim Kgmu ᠂᠂ᒇ Kim Kyfng’un ᔗશᗝ Kim Manu ᠂ᐍऀ Kim Okkyun ᠂໩ֹ Kim P’ogng ᠂ঝॄ Kim Poryun ᠂ܟᜢ Kim Sisgp ᠂૎አ Kim Sfgong ᠂ဵኛ Kim Sfngnyul ᠂ࡧ࢟ Kim Sfngn ᠂ႝ᣺ Kim Tongsfn ᠂େ۵ Kim Unghap ᠂ॄӉ Kim Wflchae ᠂ଓᬜ Kim Wfrhae ᠂ᚵൈ Kim Yfnggi (alias Kim T’aegn) ᠂ೞ ׊ن᠂ or ס Kim Yfnggok ᠂ᬭᙋ Kim Yongsfng ᠂ᬭࣴ Kim Yunsik ᠂Ώ௢ Kimura Takatarō ଢଶ᫖نଛ

kinnōha ы࿍ഹ Kinshoku-ji ᡍ቉ܡ Kitabatake DōryūѠརទᬭ Kitano Genpō Ѡ៿ΐݷ Kō-A ፟ʡ Kōakai፟ʢ଒ Kobayashi Nittō ܰୖબᐚ Kōbō࠴ഗ Kōchū രཱུ Kōchū iseki രཱུឧቂ Kodama Hideo Μ໩Ⴆᤋ Kfin޲ʴ koitsu ƚƋƫ (ಞ٧) Koizumi Nichijiܰഓબए kōjō Ӓɤ Kojong ᨜۬ kōka Ӓɥ Kokugaku ֟ۘ kokumin kyōka ֟ೕੵџ Kokuryūkai ᫾ᬭ˙ Kokutai ֟ˬ ੵ࠴ kōkyō Komazawa ᧧ഃ Kōminka ࿍ೕџ Kfnbongsa ʏ᪖ܡ kongsfn Ωឦ Kōtoku-ji ᨜ܡࡸ Kōzen Gokoku ፟႕ᘾ֟ Kūkai სൈ Kukka sangbigun ֟ߑ۾͝ᜆ ߊ֦ kuksa Kgmgang ᠂Г Kgmhwa Sfnin Kaesfksaen ᠂ᏹݙ ʲ ʺဵགྷ Kgmmyfng Poil ᠂઼ܟɞ Kun’guk Kimuch’ f ᜆ֦ౚфᒥ Kunaishō ۹α࿷ Kungnaebu תࡍए Kurosawa Kurosaku ᫾෵᫾˲ Kurume ɿཝᆌ

368 Glossary

Kwanch’oksa ෕าࡴ Kwfn Chongsfk ౦ᕞߕ Kwfn Inp’a ౦ॱ೦ Kwfn Kwangnyfn ౦दኁ Kwfn Sangno ౦ྃᅚ kyō ੵ Kyōbushō ੵោ࿷ kyōdōshoku ੵܯዔ Kyōgaku hōchi ੵۘױု kyōge ੵџ kyōiku chokugo ੵዯмᗨ Kyōkai ੵ଒ Kyōkai ichiran ੵൈɞม Kyomuwfn ૘ٙᖨ Kyfngbok૟႙ Kyfnghagwfn ᇼ۟ᣛ Kyfnghf Sfng’u ᕫወঽ๏ Kyfngmyfng ૟઼ Kyfngsfng ʬו Kyfngsfng kyohoe Ԡݦ୷૘ Kyop’ae ૘๋ Kyōyū ੵҧ Liang Chichao ஫Եᚴ Maech’ fn yarok ஭ഓ៿ᡓ Maeda Eun Џཊटᤠ Maeil sinbo ೈબઘױ Mahayfn ਩ᗀᔥ Mangwflଜଓ Manhf ᐍᒦ Mansfng ᖚढ़ manyfn ᑋࠜ Matsuoka Hakuo ୍ݠ࿇ᤋ Meiji kaidō ઼ഋ˙פ Meishi jiken ઼֕ʗˎ Mejirō Sōin ࿱࿇ʹᣛ Min Pyfngsfk ᖃӱߕ minjok gisik ೕતࣾᘱ ܡрࡆMirgksa Misumida Jimon ɣᣫཊ৅ᢝ mitsuyaku ܆ᇃ

Miura Gorō (Kanjū) ɣൂஹీ (ᖠ౑) Mizuno Baigyō ೜៿஭ૼ Mongch’o قᏏ muban ಟ໺ mubosu kukka sangbi nodongja ᅜٖ℈ֵࣱࡒ݀ڦݽก Mubul ็˱ much’a pfphoe ็ហഗ଒ ߿ᬀ Mugam Muhak ็۟ Muje Singwang ᩇᣗᯙᝐ ۯ઄Munjfng munmyfng kaehwa or bunmei kaika ઄઼ᢣџ Muramatsu Ryōkan ଶ୍ᎇ܎ Mutsu Munemitsu ᣨٟ۬Ζ Myohyang ٲ᧗ Myōkaku-ji ٲᖓܡ Myfngdong઼ബ Myfngjin઼᝽ Myōshin-ji ܡࡽٲ Na Ch’fngho ⃨େ൓ Naam Pak Chudae ኅީ ଩ӭل ݰ՘ת Naebultang naesan sfmni αៈੜ༁ naichi zakkyo αֳᤔ݅ naikyō nan αጇᤛ Naimushō αф࿷ naisen ittai αᩗɞˬ naisen yūwa αᩗᓹӼ Nakamura Kentarō ɴଶ͐نଛ Nakayama Yuizen ɴݙԩ้ Namdang Ѿᬈ Namsan Ѿݙ NamsanjongѾݙ۬ namu myōhō rengyekyō Ѿ็ٲഗᑄᏹᇦ Nangaku Kaijō Ѿݦॏᙇ Nanjō Bunyū Ѿழ઄ᤋ Nanzen Fugen Ѿഓ૞ᦖ

Glossary 369

Nematsu Gendō ஑୍໧ទ nenbutsu ࢌʽ Nichienબࠜ Nichiji બ৅ Nichirenshū બᑄ۬ Nichirenshū kyōkai honbu બᑄ۬ੵ ଒ଥោ Nichiyō બព nikujiki saitai ዝᦪߌٻ Nishi Honganji ᖆଥᦖܡ Nishida Kitarō ᖆཊ߭ؿଛ Nisshū shinpō બ۬ઘױ nitai mon ʘᘈᢝ Noguchi Zenshirō៿ҳՀ֕ឿ Nukariya Kaiten ࢏ඹᙋمࢉ o kyujfngso ʜᇀಝॳ O Sfngwfl ۊତ୸ Ōbakushū ᫸౦۬ Obon Ƒ࿠ Oda Setsugan ቉ཊᤝީ Ogiwara Hidejirō ᏘҖႦಆឿ Ogurusu Ken’ichi ܰஇஆ़ɞ Ogurusu Kōchō ܰஇஆ᧗᥶ Ōhō Buppō no Furi ໪ഗʽഗƵɦᤚ ōjō anraku ࡞གྷۦఏ ōka-shugi ಈџɺና Okamoto Ryūnosuke ݠଥ୼ʀЯ Oktongje ໩ബᬜ Ōkubo Toshimichi لɿ̞Ͼᝲ Okumura Enshin ٟଶβࡽ Okumura Ioko ٟଶʜ࿈ۊ Okumura Jōshin ٠ଶ൨̠ onki យࡿ Ōsaki Shōkichi ݾلಝӊ ߊ໪ ōshi Ōtake Kan’ichi لᄔᙲɞ Ōtani Kiyonori لᙋ൴ੵ Ōtani Shōson لᙋхܬ Ōtani Sonpō (Hōdō) (ទ۲(۲ܬᙋل

Ōtani-ha لᙋഹ Ōuchi Seiran لα᥂ާ וࡸ݉لTokujō Ōya Ōzu Tetsunen لല᠜้ P’agoe ၁إ P’alto Sfn Kyo Toch’ongsfp ׮ᒸ࿻૘ ᓫજૈ p’ogyo ޿ੵ פੵ޿ ogyodang’p P’yfngan ۦߣ P’yfngyang اߣ Pae Yfnghae ᕞࡘൈ Paek Ch’wiun ࿇ኣᤠ Paekchae࿈ฃ Paekchung ࿈ɴ Paekkok Ch’fngng ࿇ᙋᒥጅ Paektamsa ࿈෣ܡ Pak Ch’fngbong ଩ૡݶ Pak Chungbin ଩៾ࡕ Pak Chunsfl ஌ൡ᭾ Pak Hanyfng ଩ෑೞ Pak Kgngnyun ଩ʞ́ Pak Kwanghqn ଩Ζ़ Pak Manha ଩ᐍɥ Pak Nangok ଩ᒝᙋ Pak Pobong ଩૞ݷ Pak Sgngjo ଩উႄ Pak Unsik ଩ಾ௢ Pak Yfnghyo ଩ഥۓ pan’gahan Ѹ૧ᢥ paramilta ഝኅᓞؿ Pekin gohōron Ѡʬᘾഗᗿ Pigu ೋɮ Piguni ೋɮܿ ݷ૞ Pobong Poch’ang ૞઻ ૘޻ୄ Pochfngyo Pohyfnsa ૞ᚓܡ Pfmyongsa ഗᬭܡ

370 Glossary

Pfmfsa ீᩇܡ Pong’gnsa ٓܡࢺ ߿዆ٓ Pongsfngam PongsfnsaٓΕܡ Pongwfnsa ٓΐܡ Pfpchusa ഗ˩ܡ Pfphgngsa ഗ፟ܡ Poun Kgngyfp ܟᤠʞᐔ Pugiryfng Ѡɞ๰ Puguk Kangbyfng or fukoku kyōhei Ϊ࠿֟܉ PukhanѠෑ Puktang Ѡᬈ ࢌٙࡁ૘՘ Chongmuguk Pulgyo Pulgyo Sabfm Hakkyo ૘࠴ႀ࣭૘՘ Pulgyo taejfn ՘૘׶޺ Pulgyo yfn’guhoe ՘૘်ဲ୷ Pulssi chappyfn ՘ಣᗕᑼ pusok yfnhap ˂ݑ᝹Ӊ Puyf অᦿ Pyflgfn’gon ϼʏ׀ pyfnghap or heigō ֋ں Pyfnhyfp ឲѽ Raikan no yōshi ୂᥫƵᖇય Ren’ei-ji ᑄೞܡ rengō dōmei ᝹ӉӍ࿪ renkaku jibyō ᝹ᇭࠐܡ Richō Bukkyōଳଝ˱ੵ Rinzai Gigen ፒฃና໧ Rinzaishū ፒ൶۬ Risshō Ankokuron ჽಝۦ֟ᗿ ۬ࡧ Risshū ruiji shūkyō ᦘˢ۬ੵ Ryūkyū ༂໿ Ryūon-ji ᬭ᣺ܡ Ryūsen-ji ᬭޫܡ Saba Yasusuke ˪ഝ̞᜙ Sadfk ܷࡸԦ) ᅄ↏ୋ) saidai kyūmu ଑࢝لф

Saibi Kōtan ଑ኋΖᄐ Saisei Itchi ႎ੫ɞፖ Saizen-ji ᖆ෗ܡ Saitō Makoto ઈᒊ۳ Satō Ryūhō ˪ᒊᣬᙑ Sakaino Kōyō ؊៿᫸ദ Samnam ɣѾ Samsip ponsan chuji hoewi ɣѱଥݙ ˩৅˙ᘺ Samyfng Yujfng ֕ඩࣧ੫ sanjō kyōsoku ɣାੵЋ Sano Zenrei ˪៿Џд Sasa Kwalli Sf ܡၻᅒ༁ቾ Sasinam ֕ႈ߿ Sawa Shihe ෵֕Ϊᔪ Saya taein ˪៿لʲ Seigen Gyōshi ᥂Җᔤ࢚ Seihō-ji ಝഗܡ Seikanron࡟ᥫᗿ Sejongɬ۬ sekai teki fukyō keikaku ɬམ࿋޿ੵᖭད ܡ̤ܥ ji-Senjū Senkyō ۵ੵ ߊ۵ੵ senkyōshi sennen Εߤ ޿۵ senpu sensō sekinin २ʕᙳː senzai ichigū no kōki ѲಣɞជƵ٩ౚ Shaji kyōmusho konryū haigō kisoku ၻܡੵфॳࠟჽࠅӉᖎЋ Shaku Kōzen ៺้፟ Shaku Sōen ៺۬෎ Shaku Unshō ៺ᤠ๕ Shiba Shirō ୽֕ឿ Shibuya Bun’ei ൹ᙋ઄Ꮁ ۲ߊ Shihō Shimada Tōsui ݸཊେ೜ Shimaji Mokurai ݸֳᬁᤢ

Glossary 371

Sohgngsa ᗊ፟ܡ ۊࠀ sfja Sōji-ji ሗ৅ܡ Sōk Chaemyfng ៼ζ઼ Sfk Kgmhf ៼ᡍէ sōkan ሗ࿬ Sōkei Enō ଌඬटጅ Sfksil Ch’fnggong or Sekishitsu Seigū ྱ࢐ᗳဴ Sflch’ong ᑵዏ sōmu chōkan ሗфᢜۭ Sfn Kyo Yangjong ࿻૘⅑ࡁ Sfn ႝ ܡީ˃ Sfnamsa Sone Arasuke ଏ႟ᏓЯ Song Pyfngjun ࠻စ༤ Sfngbulsa ढ़˱ܡ ܡࠔ୍ Songgwangsa Sfnggyun’gwan ढ़ֹᧅ ܡ˩዆ Sfngjusa Songun ୍ᤠ Sōniryōʹܿˈ Sfnp’ung ႝᦠ Sffl ख࠶ Sfsaeng ଋགྷ Sfsan Hyujfngᖆݙ᥅˘ Sōsen-ji ሗഓܡ Sōtokufu ሗဏ߹ Sōtōshū ଌബ۬ Sōtōshū shiritsu kaigai fukyōkai ଌബႧჽൈ޿ؼੵ˙ Sōtōshū shūhō ଌബ۬۬ױ Sugita Nippu ଲཊબ޿ ܡ֦ۥ Suguksa Sung’yu fkpul ݼͿঐ˱ sgnggun ʹᜆ Sūngni tosfng ch’urip kūmjije ʹܿៈ ϫΡ႓ಜЃו Sgngnim хୖ Sunjongᇊ۬

Shin Bukkyō ઘʽੵ Shin Bukkyōsha ઘʽੵ኱ shinbutsu bunri ႈʽϱᤚ Shingonshū ကᖪ۬ Shinngkႈр Shinshūkyōshi က۬ੵય Shintō ႈៈ shinzoku nitai mon က̚ʘᘈᢝ ࢺ֕ Shion Shiraishi Gyōkai ࿇ဵׯൈ shisshi bōgai ڰᖐۻۇٴ shizoku ੢ત shokuminchi fukyō ௢ೕֳ޿ੵ Shōkyōin ܰੵᣛ Shoshū Dōtoku Kaimei ᘐ۬Ӎࡸ࿪˙ Shūhō ۬ഗ Shūi ۬ཬ Shūkyō dantaihō ۬ੵ֘ˬഗ shūkyō hōan ۬ੵഗங Shūkyō no senpu ni kansuru kisoku ۬ੵƵ۵޿Ȋ᢬ǸȪᖎЋ Shūkyōbu ۬ੵោ shūmon ۬ᢝ shūmon aratamechō ۬ᢝ੨Ljߎ shumūin ۬фᣛ shūsei ۬Ѓ Sibilchfn ѱɞೂ Sich’fn’gyo թ޻૘ ፟۬ٿSihgngjong Simwfnsa ൭ඤܡ Sinhan minboઘᥫೕױ Sinhangmun ઘ۟Դ Sininjongႈ҈۬ sinsayuramdanᇛةញᖞ֬ Sinwfnsa ઘΐܡ Sf Chaep’il ࡩ᜔ࡁ ߿᫆ࡩ Hagam Sf Sf Kwangbfm ࡩΖᅚ ܡ໪៼ Sfgwangsa

372

Glossary

Suzuki Daisetsu ᠙ଢل঴ T’aego Pou نҴ૞ᤜ T’aegosa نҴ T’aegosa نҴܡ T’aeggk Hakhoe نఊ۟଒ T’aejo Wanggfnنႄ໪ࠟ T’aemuk نᬀ T’ak Chfngsik Ѽࠝ௢ (Mubul ็˱ or Kakji ᖝֳ) t’aryfkˀЫ t’ong Pulgyo ᝲ˱ੵ T’ongdosa ᝲܡ߻ T’ongni kimuamunᇳ༁ౚфᔩᢝ t’osaek ᖰᇔ ݙଥل taebonsan ࡴᇿ޺ Taedunsa Taegangbaek لᘠ˜ Taehan Hakhoe لᥫ۟଒ Taehan Hgnghakhoe لᥫ፟۟଒ Taehan Pulgyo Chogyejong ޺ᘇ՘ ࡁୱ൧૘ Taehan Wfnjong yfnguhoe ޺ᘇ݃ ୷ྻဲࡁ ܡ፟ل Taehgngsa taejanggyfng لᒅᇼ Taewfn’gun لᣛӓ Taikan Amida Honganji ܡᣎଥᦖ࠷ᥫᣍل taikyō senpu undō لੵ۵޿ដс tairiku rōnin لᣨൄʲ Taixu ஷⶦ Takahashi Tōru ᨜౗ʪ Takakusu Junjirō ᨜ఀ᥹ಆឿ Takeda Hanshi ಟཊᅚʀ Takeda Hanshi den ಟཊᅚʀ˛ Takeda Mokurai ᄔཊᬁᤢ Takeda Sadasuke ಟཊᙪႁ Tan’gun ౡӓ Tanaka Dōen ཊɴទ֪ Tanaka Jirō ཊɴ̂ଛ

Tangch’wi ᬈወ Tani Ryōnen ᙋʓ้ Tanjō-ji ᗥགྷܡ tariki ˀЫ Tatsuyama Gonyū ᬭݙҟᤋ teikei kankei ਊਣ᢬̒ Ten’yūkyō مႁ̉ Tendai مҾ Terashima Munenori ݸܡ۬Ћ To Chinho ៈᡫᡪ Toch’fpche ߻ຕЃ Tōjō saige kōryū Enshū dai ui rokutai ron ബɤฃɥ፟ᣬ֪۬ل ଔຆΧᘈᗿ tōka fukyō Ӎџ޿ੵ Tōkanfu ᇳ࿬߹ ݙࡸ Tfksan ࠁ۾ޫࡸ Ieyasu Tokugawa Tokuzan Senkan ݙࡸ۵ᢋ Tomunjongទᢝ۬ Tonghaksa େ᫆ܡ Tonghangnan େ۟ʑ Tongnip hyfphoeໟჽѽ଒ Tongyang kyobo ஞ೯૘ݽ Tosfmni ៈੜ༁ Tosfn ᒸ፽ Tōyama Mitsuru ᦇݙච Toyotomi Hideyoshi ᙑፏႦӊ Tsuikyō ᝠੵ Tsukiji Honganji ᅝֳଥᦖܡ Tsuruya Kairyū ᫆ᙋᗪᣬ Tsushima ܢ᧚ Tubosa ઋൂܡ Uchida Ryōhei (Kinoe) αཊᎇߣ) ཌ) Uchida Sadatsuchi αཊۯన Uchimura Kanzō αଶᢋɣ Uchiyama Gudō αݙऀᄌ Ugaki Kazushige ۤ׌ɞढ़

Glossary 373

Uibyfng ናΪ Uisang ናඕ Unghf ॄᒦ Ungjo ॄႆ Unhaeᠫൈ Unhyfn ᗝࢱ Unmon Bun’en ᤠᢝ઄͆ Wakō Kokuei Ꭽགྷ֟஄ Watanabe Nichiun ංᝇબដ WayūshiӼᓹᗡ Wfn ֪ Wfndang ᦖפ or Wfnch’al ᦖІ wfndon wfnman wfn’gu wfnjok ֪ ᦀ֪ෆ֪ά֪ᚹ Wfnhgngsa ΐ፟ܡ Wfnhyo ΐૼ Wfnjong chugi ֪۬ɺና Wfnjong ֪۬ Wfnjong ׌ᢀ (Korean monk’s name) Wfnman ֪ෆ Wfnsanΐݙ Wfnsu ֪̤ Wfnyung ֪ᓹ wfnyung muae ֪ᓹ็ၴ Yamagata Isaburō ݙ˓࿽ɣଛ Yang Wenhui௷઄଒ yangbanΣ໺ Yatsubuchi BanryūΥ൯ᔉᬭ Yejo ႞ଌ Yi Chaemyfn ஒᑛ׽ Yi Chaesun ஒᑛႻ Yi Chuhoe or Yi P’ung’yfng ஒ۔୷ (ஒᏙబ) Yi Hayfng ↺޲బ Yi Hoegwang ↺ିס Yi Hoemyfng ஒିଜ Yi Kgnghf ஒԖᒦ Yi Kgnho ஒ௔ඤ

Yi Kgnt’aek ↺௔ට Yi Minsfl ஒ૙ڋ Yi Minu ஒತᗘ Yi Ngnghwa ↺ᆙ۞ Yi Podam ↺ࡲ඗ Yi Tong’in ↺ஞԦ Yi Tonghwi ஒஞᑢ Yi Wanyong ↺࠼༌ Yi Yonggu ↺ࡔԂ Yi Yfngjae ஒሞࡎ Yi Yunho ஒךୈ Yfjidosf ᑯ݄݉୰ Yōkyō ദੵ yfmbul ⅼ՘ Yong’yfnsa ᬭ൯ܡ Yongban ᬭ፱ Yfngch’in Ꮁᖘ Yongdamsaᬭ෣ܡ Yongjusa ᬭ໷ܡ Yongming Yanshou ص઼ࠜೞ Yfngmyfngsa ೞ઼ܡ yfnhap tongmaeng or rengō dōmei ᝹ӉӍ࿪ Yfnjfn Uwfn ᑄཊҤយ Yfnjuam ॖɺ߿ Yonmon ֕ᢝ Yfnsan’gun ๮ݙӓ Yorozu chōhō ᐍɬױ Yoshida Tesshin ӊཊᢅࡽ Yoshida Torajirō or Shōin ӊཊ܅ಆ ଛ (୍ᣢ) Yoshihara Genmei ӊҖΐ઼ Yoshikawa Yūgo ᎛ޫᤋ࣐ Yoshikura Ōsei ӊ̮೮዆ Yu Kilchun Τӊจ Yu Kyeyfp ق௙ล Yu Sgnghgm ୼উಎ Yu Taech’i Цلፖ yubal kfsa ଔᨥ݅ة

374 Glossary

yuhak ߫۟ Yujfmsa ఁ	ܡ
ݬ
yul or ritsu ࡧ Yun Ch’iho ܼፖ઺ Yun Chehf ܼ᤻ᒦ yusin ሆઘ	Yūzū-nenbutsushū ᓹᝲࢌʽ۬ Zenkō-ji ՀΖܡ Zenrai Հୂ Zhang Zhidong ࠾ʀബ Zōjō-ji ؍ɤܡ Zuiryū-ji༒ᬭܡ

Newspapers

Chosfn ilbo ᚗଊݽ) 1920–present)
Chōya shinbun ଝઘዉ (1876–1893) Chūgai nippō ɴؼબױ) 1897–present)
Hwangsfng sinmun ཪݦૼᅯ (1898–1910)
Kyōgaku hōchi ੵۘױု) 1877–1897( Maeil sinbo ೈଊ༒ݽ) 1910–1938( Niigata Mainichi shinbun ઘೈબઘዉ (1926–1941) Sinhan minbo ૼᘇತݽ) 1909(– Taehan maeil sinbo ᘇೈଊ༒ݽ) 1907–1910( Taiwan nichinichi shinpō ፗลબબઘױ) 1898–1944( Takada nippō ཊબױ) 1911( Tonga ilbo ஞԘଊݽ) 1920–present) Tongnip sinmun ၈ૼᅯ (1896–1899) Yomiuri shinbun ᗱدઘዉ (1913–present)

Journals

Bukkyō nenkan ʽੵߤᢋ (1929–1938). Tokyo: Bukkyō nenkansha.

Chōsen ଝᩗ (1908–1911). Published by Moriyama Mibu. Seoul: Nikkan shobō.

Chōsen Bukkyō ଝᩗ˱ੵ (1924–1945). Keijō (Seoul): Chōsen Bukkyōsha. Chōsen Sōtokufu kanpō ଝᩗሗဏ߹ۭױ) 1911, 1913(. Keijō: Insatsukyoku.

Chosfn Pulgyo ch’ongbo ᚗݽک) 1917–1920(. Keijō: Samsip Ponsan Yfnhap Samuso.

Chosfn Pulgyo wflbo ᚗݽ) 1912–1913(. Keijō: Pulkyo Chinhgnghoe ponbu.

Chosfn Pulgyogye ᚗ༗ (1916–1918). Keijō: Pulgyo Chinhgnghoe.

Honzan jimu hōkoku ଥݙʗфױө (1893–1897). Kyoto: Higashi Honganji. Jōdo kyōhō ഻֮ੵױ) 1889–1940(. Tokyo: Jōdo kyōhōsha. Kokuryū ᛓᬭ (1901–1908). Tokyo: Kokuryūkai honbu. Kongō ᠂Г (1924–1936). Keijō: Chōsen Sōtōshū fukyōshikai.

Korea Review (1902, 1905, 1906). Seoul: Th e Methodist Publishing House.

Kgmgangjf ᔗص) 1924–1943(. Tokyo: Tonggyfng yuhaksaenghoe.

Kyōka kenkyū ੵџ်ჟ (1953–present). Kyoto: (Ōtani-ha) Kyōgaku kenkyūjo. Kyōkai ichiran ੵൈɞม (1897–1939). Kyoto: (Honganji-ha) Kyōkai zasshisha.

Kyfngbuk Pulgyo ০ٯ) 1936–1941(. Taegu: Kyfngbuk Pulgyo hyfphoe.

Nisshū shinpō બ۬ઘױ) 1889–1917(. Tokyo: Nisshū shinpōsha. Ōtani Honganji shiyō لᙋଥᦖܡᗡᖇ (1911). Tokyo: Ōtani Honganji.

Pulgyo (1924–1933). Keijō: Pulgyosa. Pulgyo (Sin) (ૼ) (1937–?). Keijō: Pulgyosa.

Pyflgfn’gon آԊݔ) 1926–1934(. Keijō: Kaebyfksa. Samchflli Өٺᔒ (1929–1943). Keijō: Samchfllisa.

Shinshū shūhō က۬۬ױ) 1898–1945(. Kyoto: Shinshū Ōtani-ha Honzan jimusho bunshoka.

Shinyū ̠ҧ (1911–1913). Keijō: Shin’yūkai. Sōtōshū shūhō ଌബ۬۬ױ) 1896–1940(. Tokyo: Sōtō shūmukyoku bunshoka.

Sfu ፂڢ) 1906–1908(. Seoul: Sfu hakhoe. Taeggk hakbo ణݽ࠴) 1906–1908(. Tokyo: T’aeggk hakhoe. Taehan hakhoewflbo ᘇ࠴୷ݽ) 1908(. Tokyo: Taehan Yuhaksaenghoe. Taehan hgnghakhoebo ᘇᇜ࠴୷ݽ) 1909–1910(. Tokyo: Taehan hgnghakhoe.

Tongyang kyobo ஞ೯ݽ) 1902(. Seoul: Tongyang kyobosa. Wayūshi Ӽᓹᗡ (1897–1914). Tokyo: Wayūsha.

Government Documents

Chfngbu kirok pojonso ੫߹ᖵᡓ̞ۏॳ. Fukyō ni kansuru zakken tsuzuri
ੵॳƲƠǒᤔˎሌ (Compilation of the miscellaneous matters of missions) (1906–1910 and 1924).

_. Shaji shūkyō kankei shorui ၻܡ۬ੵ̒ଋᦘ (Documents concerning shrines, temples, and religions) (1911).

_. Shūkyō ni kansuru zakken tsuzuri ۬ੵƲƠǒᤔˎሌ (Compilation of the miscellaneous matters of religions) (1906–1909 and 1924).

Chōsen jijō ଝᩗʗࣟ) Korean aff airs). Keijō: Chōsen Sōtōkufu, 1934–1944.

Chosfn Ch’ongdoku Chungch’uwfn charyo ଝᩗሗဏ߹ɴᣛᚇઌ (Documents of the Privy Council of the colonial government) (1940).

Chōsen Sōtokufu tōkei nenpō ଝᩗሗဏ߹ᇳᖭױߤ) General statistical tables of the colonial government) (1906–1940).

Chosfn wangjo sillok Pulgyo saryojip ᚗຊࡩᕆڵ૱ᗊ (Collection of historical documents on Buddhism in the annals of the Chosfn dynasty). Seoul: Tongguk Taehakgyo Pulgyo Munhwa Yfn’guwfn, 2003.

Chū-Kan Nihon kōshikan kiroku ᧥ᥫબଥΦ˽ۭᖵᡓ (Records on the Japanese legation in Korea) (1894–1910).

Ilche sidae Pulgyo chfngch’aek kwa hyfnhwang: Chosfn Ch’ongdokou kwanbo Pulgyo kwallyfn charyojip I and II ᴲᯗᢱᴰᷭᝈᾶῐ:ᵂ᭧ḙᣚᝊ
᪲ ᝊᦣᴈᧁ ᶉ (Th e policies on Buddhism and the present condition under colonial rule: documents on Buddhism in the journals of the colonial government). Seoul: Taehan Pulgyo Chogyejong Ch’ongmuwfn, 2001.

Ilsfngnok ଊ྆ᕆ (Daily records) (1760–1910).

Kaksa tgngnok kgndae ڷڹᎯᕆᒅԴ (Records from the governmental offi ces)
(1897–1904).

Kojong sidaesa ۬ˇӀ (Chronology of the era of King Kojong). Seoul:
Kuksa p’yfnch’an wiwfnhoe, 1971.

Kojong sillok ᚂࡩࡁᕆ (Veritable records of the era of King Kojong) (1852–1919). Kwanbo ۭױ) Journal of the Korean government) (1894–1910). Naikaku tōkeikyoku αᇳᖭ݃. Nihon teikoku tōkei nenkan બଥ߈֟ᇳᖭߤ ᢋ (General statistical tables of Imperial Japan). Tokyo: Tōkyō tōkei kyōkai, 1882–1941.

Tōkanfu bunsho ᇳ߹ଋ (Documents of the resident-general’s offi ce)
(1906–1909).

Books And Articles

Ahn Kyehyfn ۦԵᚓ. “Chosfn chfngi gi sgnggun” ᚗزஂᳵׇᑒ (Th e monastic armies of early Chosfn”). Tongbang hakji 13 (1971): 27–96.

_. Han’guk Pulgyosa yfn’gu ᘇ݀ڵ်ဲ) Studies on the history of Korean Buddhism). Seoul: Tonghwa Ch’ulp’an Kongsa, 1982.

American Society of International Law. Supplement to the American Journal of International Law: Offi cial Documents. Vol. 4. New York: Baker, Voorhis, and Company, 1910.

Annaka Naofumi ۦɴܴӀ. “Kindai ni okeru Nikkan Bukkyō kōryū ni tsuite no ichi kosatsu” ᝏˇƲƑƘǒબᥫʽੵʧഺƲƫƋƭƵɞኯܑ (An analysis of the exchange between Japanese Buddhism and Korean Buddhism in the modern period). Indo tetsugaku Bukkyōgaku 51, no. 2 (2003): 188–92.

_. “Nichirenshū ni okeru imin fukyō to shokuminchi fukyō: ‘ekkyō’ suru Nihon Bukkyō no shosō” બᑄ۬ƲƑƘǒႷೕੵƯೕֳੵᭉż 378 Works Cited ᚵ؊ŽƠǒબଥʽੵƵᘐ (Preaching among immigrants and colonies in the case of the Nichiren sect: transnational aspects of Japanese Buddhism). Shūkyō kenkyū 81 (March 2008): 904–5.

Aoyagi Nanmei Ѿσ. Chōsen shūkyō shi ଝᩗ۬ੵӀ (A history of Korean religion). Keijō: Chōsen kenkyūkai, 1911.

Auerback, Micah. “Ch’inil Pulgyo yfksahak gi chaego: Chosfn Pulgyodan kwa 1920 nyfndae Chosfn esf gi sgngnyf gyflhon munje e Taehan nonjaeng” ṉᱺᬿᾐᳵᴕ: ᵂ᭧ᢢᝈ1920ᡊᢱᵂ᭧ᱱ᭣ᳵᯖ ᦡᜯῃᱱᢱᾑᡕᴝ (Rethinking the historiography of “Ch’in-Il” Buddhism: the Chōsen Bukkyōdan and the debate over clerical marriage in 1920s Korea). Asaea yfn’gu 51 (2008): 15–53.

_. “Japanese Buddhism in an Age of Empire: Mission and Reform in Colonial Korea, 1877–1931.” PhD diss., Princeton University, 2007.

Barlow, Tani. Formations of Colonial Modernity in East Asia. Durham, NC:
Duke University Press, 1997.

Befu, Harumi, ed. Cultural Nationalism in East Asia: Representation and Identity. Berkeley, CA: Institute of East Asian Studies, University of California, 1993.

Bellah, Robert. Imagining Japan: Th e Japanese Tradition and Its Modern Transformation. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2003.

Bird, Isabella Bishop. Korea and Her Neighbor. London: John Murray, 1898. Bourdieu, Pierre. “Genesis and Structure of the Religious Field.” Comparative Social Research 13 (1991): 1–44.

_. Language and Symbolic Power. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003.

_. Th e Logic of Practice. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1990.

_. Pascalian Meditations. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000.

_. Practical Reason: On the Th eory of Action. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998.

Bukkyō kaigai kaikyō shi shiryō shūsei ʽੵൈؼᢣੵӀᚇઌᤍढ़ (Collection of sources on the history of the opening of the Buddhist mission). Tokyo: Fuji shuppan, 2007–2008.

Buswell, Robert. “Buddhism under Confucian Domination: Th e Synthetic Vision of Sfsan Hyujfng.” In Culture and the State in Late Chosfn Korea,
ed. Jahyun Kim Haboush and Martina Deuchler, 134–59. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 1999.

_. Th e Zen Monastic Experience: Buddhist Practice in Contemporary Korea. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1992.

Ch’oe, Ching Young. Th e Rule of the Taewfngun, 1864–1873: Restoration in Yi Korea. Cambridge, MA: East Asian Research Center, Harvard University, 1972.

Ch’oe Hyegyfng Ḟ᾽᜴. “Ilche gi Pulgyo chfngch’aek e kwanghan yfn’gu sfng kwa wa kwaje” ᴲᳵᴰᷭᱱᝊᾑᱼᝤ᭰ᝈᲝᝈᴲ (Scholarly accomplishments and directions concerning the colonial policy on Buddhism in Korea). Sfnmunhwa yfn’gu (2006): 177–224.

Ch’oe Munhyfng Ḟᩊᾼ. Myfngsfng Hwanghu sihae gi chinsil gl palk’inda ᨫ
᭰ῐῢᯗᾘᳵᶄᯛᳩ᩼‗ᢟ (Revelation of the truth of Queen Min’s assassination). Seoul: Chisik san’fpsa, 2001.

Ch’oe Namsfn Ḟ᭧. “Chosfn Pulgyo: Tongbang munhwasasang e itngn kg chiwi” ᵂ᭧:ᣣ᪂ᩊΉᬿᭋᱱᴄᢈឃᶂ᳕ (Korean Buddhism:
its place in Oriental cultural history). Pulgyo (1930): 1–51.

Ch’oe Pyfnghfn Ḟᾥ. “Ilche gi ch’imnyak kwa Pulgyo: Ilbon Chodongjong gi Takeda Hansi wa Wfnjong” ᴲᳵṍᦋᝈ:᪵ᵂᣣᵊᳵ ᢟṯᢟᾑᯗᲝᵊ (Th e Japanese invasion and Buddhism: the Japanese Sōtōshū’s Takeda Hanshi and the Wfnjong). Han’guksa yfn’gu 114 (2001):
93–118.

Chan, Chi-wah. “Th e Korean Impact on T’ient’ai Buddhism in China: A
Historical Analysis.” In Currents and Countercurrents: Korean Infl uences on the East Asian Buddhist Traditions, ed. Robert Buswell, 217–41. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawai’i Press, 2005.

Chan, Sin-wai. Buddhism in Late Ch’ing Political Th ought. Hong Kong:
Chinese University Press; Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1985.

Chandra, Vipan. “An Outline Study of the Ilchinhoe (Advancement Society)
of Korea.” Occasional Papers on Korea 2 (March 1974): 43–72.

Chen Jidong ᣤᇽେ. “Kindai Bukkyō no yoake: Seimatsu Meiji Bukkyōkai no kōryū” ᝏˇʽੵƵف઼Ƙ: ൴ତȶ઼ഋʽੵམƵʧഺ (Dawn of modern Buddhism: the exchange of late Ching and Meiji Buddhist groups). “Bukkyō/Kindai/Ajia” issue, Shisō (2002): 88–107.

_. Shinmatsu Bukkyō no kenkyū ൴ତʽੵƵ်ჟ (Studies on late Ching Buddhism). Tokyo: Sankibō busshorin, 2003.

Ching, Leo. L. S. Becoming “Japanese”: Colonial Taiwan and the Politics of Identity Formation. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2001.

Cho, Eun-su. “Re-Th inking Late 19th Century Chosfn Buddhist Society.”
Acta Koreana 6 (2003): 87–109.

Cho Sfngt’aek ᵂ᭰ệ. “Kgndae Pulgyohak kwa Han’guk kgndae Pulgyo” ចᢱᾐᝈᾑᝥចᢱ (Modern Buddhist scholarship and modern Korean Buddhism). Minjok munhwa yfn’gu 45 (2006): 77–108.

Chogyejong ᵂ᜶ᵊ. T’onggye charyojip ữ᜶ᴈᧁᶉ (Collection of materials
[on the Chogye Order]). Seoul: Chogyejong, 2008.

Chfng Kwangho ᴰᝐ῁. “Chosfn Pulgyo Yusillon chip’il gi paegyfng kwa kaehyfk panghyang” ᵂ᭧᳝ᯙᦰᶉᾊᳵ᪄᜴ᝈᜁ᪂ᾢ (Background of the writing of the Reformation of Korean Buddhism and the directions of reform). Pulgyo py’ fngnon 16 (September 2003). http://www.

budreview . com/news/articleView.html?idxno=550.

_. “Ijohugi sawfn chabyfkko” ᳺᵂῢណᬿᴐᱺ (Studies on miscellaneous taxes on the temples in late Chosfn). Sahak nonjip 1 (1974):
25–50.

_. Ilbon ch’imnyak sigi gi Han-Il Pulgyo kwan’gyesa ᪵ṍᦋᯗណᳵᾑ ᝊ᜶ᬿ (History of the relationship between Korean and Japanese Buddhism during the period of the Japanese invasion). Seoul: Argmdaun saesang, 2001.

_. “Ilche ch’imnyak siki gi pfmnan sanghwang” ᴲṍᦋᯗណᳵ᪙ ᠕ᭋῐ (Situation on the persecution of Buddhism during the period of Japan’s invasion). Songlim 28 (1994): 205–24.

Chfng Tojfn ᓱᒸֹ. Sambongjip Өࢯᗊ (Th e collected writings of Sambong). 14 vols. Seoul: Minjok munhwa ch’ujinhoe, 1977.

Chonggyfngnok ࡁᕫᕆ (Record of truth mirror). In Taishō Tripitaka 48, no.

2016, CBETA Chinese Electronic Tripitaka V1.26, normalized version, http://www.cbeta.org/result/normal/T48/2016_004.htm.

Chūgai nippōsha ɴؼબױၻ. Onki taikan យلᖜ (An overview of
[Shinran’s] memorial). Kyoto: Chūgai nippōsha, 1911.

Clark, Donald. Living Dangerously in Korea: Th e Western Experience 1900–1950.

Norwalk, CT: EastBridge, 2003.

Collcutt, Martin. “Buddhism: Th e Th reat of Eradication.” In Japan in Transition, ed. Marius Jansen and Gilbert Rozman, 143–67. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986.

Conroy, Hilary. Th e Japanese Seizure of Korea, 1868–1910: A Study of Realism and Idealism in International Relations. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1960.

Cook, Harold. Korea’s 1884 Incident: Its Background and Kim Okkyun’s Elusive Dream. Seoul: Royal Asiatic Society, Korea Branch, 1972.

Davis, Winston. Japanese Religion and Society: Paradigms of Structure and Change. Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1992.

Deuchler, Martina. Th e Confucian Transformation of Korea: A Study of Society and Ideology. Cambridge, MA: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1992.

Duara, Prasenjit. Sovereignty and Authenticity: Manchukuo and the East Asian Modern. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefi eld, 2003.

Dudden, Alexis. Japan’s Colonization of Korea. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawai’i Press, 2005.

Duus, Peter. Th e Abacus and the Sword: Th e Japanese Penetration of Korea, 1859–1910. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1995.

Eckert, Carter J. “Epilogue: Exorcising Hegel’s Ghosts: Toward a Postnationalist Historiography of Korea.” In Colonial Modernity in Korea, ed.

Gi-Wook Shin and Michael Robinson, 363–78. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 1999.

_. Off spring of Empire: Th e Koch’ang Kims and the Colonial Origins of Korean Capitalism 1876–1945. Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press, 1991.

Eckert, Carter J., et al. Korea Old and New: A History. Seoul: Ilchokak, 1990.

Eda Toshio ೪ཊ̕ᤋ. Chōsen Bukkyōshi no kenkyū ଝᩗʽੵӀƵ်ჟ
(Studies on the history of Korean Buddhism). Tokyo: Kokusho kankōkai, 1977.

_. “Chōsen ni okeru Bukkyō seinen undō no gaikan” ଝᩗƲછƘǒ
˱ੵߤដсƵఒᖜᬷAn overview of the young Buddhist movement in Korea). Chōsen Bukkyō 121 (June 1936): 23–27.

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