“If he [Yoshitsune] had not existed, the Japanese might have been obliged to invent him. Indeed,
much of our knowledge about this spectacular young man is invention, a rich fabric of tales and
legends woven during the course of the centuries to embellish the sparse historical facts of his
career and to create Japan’s quintessential hero.”
Ivan Morris
1
I. Introduction
This paper will examine the figure of the 12th century samurai Yoshitsune. It will look at
Yoshitsune as a historical figure, a semi-mythical figure, and a fully-mythical figure. In doing
so, this paper will show that Yoshitsune is a unique and highly ambivalent figure in Japanese
history. This paper’s thesis is that Yoshitsune is a figure who has been co-opted equally by
samurai and militarists who held power, to retain their power, at various times in Japanese
history as well as by those who hoped to resist their power.
II. The Historical Yoshitsune
An amazing fact about Yoshitsune is that while he is one of the most famous personages
in Japanese history his life can only be documented with some historical certainty for a grand
total of two years, from1183 to1185 (Butler, 1967). To the contrary, some historians date his
historical accuracy from as early as 1180, when he is reported as being reunited with his brother
Yoritomo, and as late as 1189, when he is presumed to have died. In any case, his years in the
historical record for a samurai of such magnificent reputation are few.
The historical Yoshitsune is seen primarily in his specific actions and battles during the
Gempei war, where his Minamoto clan (a.k.a. Gengi) fought to subdue the Taira clan (a.k.a.
Heike), and during his subsequent conflict with, and flight from, his brother Yoritomo, founder
of the Kamakura bakufu. Yoshitsune galvanized his reputation as arguably the greatest of all
Japanese generals through a series of battles between the years 1184 and 1185. The most
important battles being: 1) the battle of the Uji river; 2) the battle of Ichinotani; 3) the battle of
Yashima; and 4) the battle of Dannoura.
The battle of the Uji river, although part of the Gempei war, was actually fought against a
rival Minamoto clan member, and cousin to Yoritomo, Yoshinaka. This was Yoshitsune’s first
major military engagement and, according to McCollugh (1990): “[His] debut as a military
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commander was marked by all the decisiveness, speed, and aggressive spirit that were to
characterize all his subsequent campaigns (p.16). Yoshitsune, taking advantage of both his
larger numbers and Yoshinaka’s decision to deplete his already small army in order to check the
movements of Yoshitsune’s uncle Yukiie, struck boldly and overwhelmingly. That Yoshitsune
was able to overwhelm a position that was extremely well fortified and entrenched, against an
opponent who was experienced and consistently successful, helped him establish an immediate
reputation. The speed of his victory was critical because, on top of his immediate opponent, he
had to keep the Taira in check to avoid a devastating attack from the rear. This first major
engagement would be a microcosm of Yoshitsune’s genius and an adumbration of his future
troubles. We see this in a specific instance at the start of the Uji engagement when two samurai
rushed recklessly across the river vying for the honor of being recognized as the first man to
engage in battle. This was common during the period, where honor was something to be gained
individually on the battlefield, not in a mass of men. Yoshitsune, on the other hand was an
anachronism. His military genius was more modern in nature. He strategically deployed troops
in ways that dumbfounded and dominated his opponents, but which often robbed his samurai
vassals of increasing their chances at individual merit and reward. For this reason, despite his
unprecedented success and his growth in general popularity, he was actually disliked by many of
his warriors (Ikegami, 1995). The combination of ill will and jealousy among those who felt
honor-starved by his success would ultimately lead to his downfall.
Yoshitsune’s first major engagement against the Taira occurred at Ichinotani. This battle
against a seemingly impregnable position, protected by the sea on one side and steep mountains
on the others, showcased both Yoshitsune’s tactical skill and personal bravery. In the end, it was
a stunning victory of a magnitude much larger than at Uji river. While Yoshitsune’s co-
3
commander, Noriyori, attacked the nearby Ikutanomori to the east, Yoshitsune turned command
of the majority of his 2,000-3,000 troops over to a subordinate to attack Ichinotani to the west.
Yoshuitsune picked 30 warriors to accompany him to a steep ridge overlooking the fortress.
After the assault on Ichinotani failed to breach the walls, Yoshitsune led his men down the
precipitous embankment. According to Sato (1995) the ride down was “so terrifying they kept
their eyes closed as they went down” (p.121). This action threw the Taira into a state of
confusion. Yoshitsune’s men set fire to the fort, and the Taira were forced to abandon their
position and flee by boat over the Inland Sea to Yashima on the island of Shikoku. The action
was so stunning that “on the whole it didn’t seem like a human feat but like a demon’s or a
deity’s act” (p.121). This single action and its attribution to preternatural beings may have been
the genesis of what eventually became a deep and pervasive mythology about Yoshitsune, which
eventually stretched back in time to his childhood and stretched forward to numerous variant
legends of his later life.
Pursuant to the battle of Ichinotani, the petty jealousies that would ultimately bring down
Yoshitsune became readily apparent. Kajiwara Kagetoki, Yoritomo’s special deputy, who hated
the young, impetuous and increasingly popular Yoshitsune, poisoned Yoritomo’s mind against
him, making Yoritomo believe that Yoshitsune was a threat to him. Historians uniformly
describe Kajiwara with pejorative descriptions such as “a mean, treacherous vassal” (Sansom,
1958, p.315), or “a haughty, vindictive, and unscrupulous man with a slanderous tongue”
(McCollugh, 1990, p.17). It seems that no source has anything good to say about him. Whether
he was really as odious as he is portrayed is open to question, since the glory that has become
Yoshitsune has required a dramatic villain to be his downfall. After the battle, despite his cocommander Noriyori receiving many honors Yoshitsune himself received none. Further, the
4
retired emperor, Go-Shirakawa, heaped appointments on Yoshitsune, driving another wedge
between the brothers, as Yoritomo believed that all appointments to his warriors should come
through his military government. Despite his pique, Yoritomo was forced to turn again to
Yoshitsune, his best general, when Noriyori became bogged down against the Taira at Yashima.
Yoshitsune went quickly to Yashima, and the rancor between he and Kajiwara resumed
with renewed ferocity as they argued about the use of “reverse oars.” Yoshitsune’s rebuff of this
idea amounted to an insinuation of cowardice against Kajiwara. Yoshitsune’s subsequent, swift
crossing to Shikoku caught the Taira by surprise. He defeated them soundly, sending the Taira
fleeing in boats to Kyushu. The speed of Yoshitsune’s victory again fed both his growing
reputation and the wiles of Kajiwara, who implied that Yoshitsune was attempting to deny
Minamoto warriors who followed closely behind the honor of victory (McCollugh, 1990).
Battle of Dannoura
The stage was now set for Yoshitsune’s most famous victory: the battle of Dannoura.
This naval battle was precipitated by another heated exchange between Yoshitsune and Kajiwara
that actually led to the two samurais reaching for their swords. The dispute was over who should
lead the Dannoura attack. Each, of course, insisted that he was in the rightful position to do so.
Yoshitsune’s admonition to Kajiwara: “You are the stupidest man in all of Japan!” (Sato, 1995,
p. 136). This statement alone was enough to lead to a serious vendetta. During the battle of
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Dannoura, in the midst of treacherous currents, the Minamoto fought a defensive battle until the
ocean tides turned in their favor. They then closed in to win a decisive victory. Dannoura
effectively annihilated the Taira. From this time forward they ceased to exist as a locus of power
in Japan. Yoritomo became the master of all Japan; but he wouldn’t feel like the master as long
as he believed, with Kajiwara’s urging, that his brother was scheming to usurp his newfound
position.
From this point on Yoritomo was openly hostile to his brother. Rather than receiving
awards for his great victories, he was punished by having lands removed from him. Yoshitsune
decided to appeal to his brother in person and present Taira prisoners, but Yoritomo would not
let him enter Kamakura. Yoshitsune declared his loyalty repeatedly. Even his highly emotional
plea in the so-called “Koshigoe Letter,” though it was said to elicit tears from Yoritomo, did not
put him back in favor, such were the machinations of Kajiwara. As Yoshitsune stated in the
letter, “the blood bond between us seems to have vanished” (McCollugh, 1990, p.138).
Ultimately, the brothers’ estrangement turned into open hostility over the fate of their
uncle Yukiie, whom Yoshitsune protected and Yoritomo wanted killed. Yoritomo believed them
to be plotting a joint rebellion; he therefore ordered Yoshitsune’s assassination. From this day in
1185 until his death in 1189 Yoshitsune was a hunted man. He was still no doubt in a position to
mount a serious rebellion; but he did not, as if to prove his faithfulness. He chose instead life as
a fugitive with his private band of followers. If he was successful as a general, he was just as
successful as a fugitive. Yoshitsune’s elusiveness would become the stuff of legend, as would
the bravery of those loyal to him, not least of which was Yoshitsune’s mistress, Shizuka, who
dared to dance and sing in his praises in the presence of Yoritomo.
6
Historians tend to follow the storyline of The Chronicle of Yoshitsune (Gikeiki), written
over two hundred years after the fact. The predictable analysis is that Yoshitsune was sincere
and well meaning, but a poor politician, and that Yoritomo was suspicious, jealous, vindictive,
and extremely cunning. However, that Yoshitsune could have actually been conspiring to take
advantage of his brother, and that his brother rightly censured him, is entirely plausible. Morris
(1975) is almost alone in saying: “…the Lord of Kamakura had sound reason to resent his
insubordinate brother as a source of continued disunity and confusion in the country” (p.105).
In the end, Yoshitsune found himself in Oshu under the protection of Fujiwara Hidehira.
But Hidehira died within a year and—despite leaving a will asking his sons to allow Yoshitsune
to succeed him as governor and attack Yoritomo—his heir, Yasuhira, turned on Yoshitsune and
hunted him down. When Yasuhira attacked with an overwhelming force, Yoshitsune dispatched
himself by seppuku, ordering his retainer, Kanefusa, to kill his wife and three-year-old daughter.
Some sources, such as Friday (2004), report that Yoshitsune was instead killed, as if trying to
deny Japan’s greatest warrior the honor of his self-willed death. In the world of legend,
however, the question is not how Yoshitsune died, but, as we shall see later, whether he lived!
III. The Legendary and Mythological Yoshitsune
Yoshitsune, Benkei, and the Tengu
Yoshitsune is at his most fascinating when he transforms from historical figure to legend
to pure myth. The difference is that many of the legends of Yoshitsune, beyond some obvious
hyperbole, could possibly have happened. They are apocryphal. A good example is the story of
Yoshitsune meeting his most loyal and trusted companion, Benkei. According to one version of
the legend, Benkei—who is a giant of a man at six and a half feet tall—quits his order of monks
to take up life as a Yamabushi, a wandering bandit monk of the mountains. Benkei positions
7
himself at Goyo bridge in Kyoto, where he relieves passing samurai of their swords. After
collecting 999 swords, a small samurai of delicate appearance arrives playing a flute. The
superiority of Benkei to his effete challenger is never in doubt, until the slight and sprightly
Yoshitsune outdoes the crude giant through his superior skill and unearthly fighting technique.
As if to put the finest point possible on Yoshitsune’s superiority, he bests Benkei not with a
sword, but with his battle fan. In words I have not the artistry to match here is what followed:
“After ‘the mother of all sword fights,’ Benkei vowed eternal loyalty to Yoshitsune. His life
took a complete turn. From now on he accompanied his new lord through numerous adventures
and battles as the faithful vassal and second banana.” (www.artelino.com/articles/Benkei.asp,
para. 13). This tongue-in-cheek assessment is apt. For while Benkei has sometimes been
presented for posterity as keenly intelligent and crafty—as we will discuss later in his clever
duping of Yoritomo’s men at a northern checkpoint, allowing Yoshitsune and his men to
escape—he has also been widely regarded as the Japanese version of “Friar Tuck,” and is loved
by modern children in a similar way to Winnie the Pooh in the West (Storry, 1968; -----------).
Yoshitsune and Benkei on
Goyo Bridge
8
Did Yoshitsune and Benkei ever fight each other at Goyo bridge? Perhaps. But the story
is of real interest because one aspect of it links Yoshitsune to a completely mythical world—the
world of the tengu. Tengu are mythological creatures, half human and half bird. In Chinese, the
characters for tengu (t’ien-kou) literally mean “heavenly dogs.” In English, it is usually
translated as “goblins” (Goodin, n.d.). There are actually two distinct types of tengu: 1) the
karasu or “crow” tengu, who have the body of a man and the wings, beak and claws of a bird;
and 2) the mountain priest (Yamabushi) tengu, who have bare feet and very long noses. Tengu
are born from massive eggs. Bird tengu live in tall trees; and it is in their last incarnation, as
humans, that they become priests (or sometimes even samurai) and develop long noses. Their
long noses are a sign of their arrogance, hence the expression tengu ni naru, which admonishes
people not to be arrogant (http://216.109.125.130). But the tengu are known for more than their
arrogance, they are masters at the martial arts and swordsmen extraordinaire. It was the tengu,
specifically the tengu king of Mount Kurama, Sojobo, who, according to legend, trained
Yoshitsune as a boy to a point of supernatural sword-fighting excellence that made him superior
to any mortal man.
Yoshitsune becomes, in this legend, a man who easily transfers from the world of reality
to the world of pure myth and back again. Although samurai and tengu have long been linked as
pupils and masters, it is Yoshitsune who seems to have, in Japanese folk legend, this unique
ability among samurai. It is also relevant, and another significant point of duality, that Benkei,
who is a representation of the highest possible achievement in arms of a real Yamabushi, is
defeated by a slender, effeminate man who has been trained by the mythical Yamabushi.
Yoshitsune, is by contrast a demi-god; he is presented as semi-divine. Importantly, whether we
are reading about true historical incidents, semi-mythical incidents, or wholly mythical incidents,
9
there is always an underlying acceptance that Yoshitsune is slightly above humanity. This is his
essence, without which the unique image of Yoshitsune could not have been promulgated much
beyond other famous warriors.
Ainu Legend of Yoshitsune
One of the most interesting and unusual legends in the mythology of Yoshitsune comes
from the Ainu. The Ainu are a distinct ethnic group indigenous to Northern Honshu, Hokkaido,
the Kuril Islands, Sakhalin Island, and the southern Kamchatka peninsula. Although today they
are mainly concentrated in southern and eastern Hokkaido.
According to the legend, Yoshitsune did not die in northern Honshu; but rather, he fled to
Yezu (Hokkaido). Rev. John Batchelor (1892) in his landmark study of the religion and history
of the Ainu recounts the legend as follows:
When Yoshitsune came to Yezu he was kindly taken in by the Saru chief, who had his
residence at Piratori. This chief had amongst his treasues a very ancient book called Tora
no maki mono, but he would never allow Yoshitsune to see it. After a time the chief
adopted Yoshitsune, and gave him his younger daughter in marriage. One day, after he had
been in the family some time, Yoshitsune pretended that he had bad eyes, and could not go
out to work as was his wont. So he stayed at home. On that day he reproached his wife
greatly and refused to eat, and told her that neither did she love him, nor did she or her
father trust him, so that he might just as well go back to his native land. She asked him in
what he was mistrusted, and he replied that he had heard that his father-in-law had an
ancient book somewhere in his possession, but that, although he had let him see all his
other treasures, he had never produced it. Why was he so distrustful? Upon this his wife
fetched the book and let him look at it. “Now,” says he, “my eyes are quite well; and I
shall go to work tomorrow.” Yoshitsune noticed where his wife had put the book, so as
soon as an opportunity presented itself he stole it and ran off with it.
Now it happened that Yoshitsune’s father-in-law was far away in the mountains, but he felt
within himself that something wrong was going on at home. He therefore left his work to
return. As he neared home he saw Yoshitsune fleeing down the river in his father-in-law’s
very best and swiftest boat.
Now the chief always carried two harpoons about with him, a black one and a white one,
which he could cast, with unerring aim, to any distance. He therefore cast the white one at
the stern of the boat and transfixed it, but Yoshitsune—the cunning man—had a file with
him, and filed the line in two. Then the black harpoon was cast, with similar result. Upon
10
this Yoshitsune stood up in the boat and reviled his wife and her father, and fled, not only
with the book, but also with the harpoons and the boat.
This legend tries to account for what is undoubtedly the fact that the Ainu have no
literature.
Batchelor, 1892, pp. 115-116
Another version of the legend, which is decidedly more mythic, and likely a closer literal
rendition of the original oral tradition goes thus:
Okikurumi, accompanied by his younger sister Tureshi[hi], had taught the Ainos all arts,
such as hunting with the bow and arrow, netting and spearing fish, and many more; and
himself knew everything by means of two charms or treasures. One of these was a piece of
writing, the other was an abacus; and they told him whence the wind would blow, how
many birds there were in the forest, and all sorts of other things.
One day there came, - none know whence, - a man of divine appearance, whose name was
unknown to all. He took up his abode with Okikurumi, and assisted the latter in all his
labour with wonderful ability. He taught Okikurumi how to row with two oars instead of
simply polling with one pole, as had been usual before in Aino-land. Okikurumi was
delighted to obtain such a clever follower, and gave him his sister Tureshi[hi] in marriage,
and treated him like his own son. For this reason the stranger got to know all about
Okikuruni’s affair, even the place where he kept his two treasures. The result of this was
that one day when Okikurumi was out hunting in the mountains the stranger stole these
treasures and all that Okikurumi possessed, and then fled with his wife Tureshi in a boat, of
which they each pulled an oar. Okikurumi returned from the mountains to his home by the
seaside, and pursued them alone in a boat; but could not come up to them, because he was
only one against two. Then Tureshi excreted some large feces in the middle of the sea,
which became a large mountain in the sea, at whose base Okikurumi arrived. But so high
was it that Okikurumi could not climb over it. Moreover, even had not the height
prevented him, the fact of its being nothing but filthy feces would have done so. As for
going round either side of it, that would have taken him too much out of the way. So he
went home again, feeling quite spiritless and vanquished, because robbed of his treasures.
This is the reason why, ever since, we Ainos have not been able to read.
(Put quote)
Both versions are important in their similarities and their differences. That Yoshitsune is
accused in both versions of stealing the arts of reading and writing from the Ainu is significant.
This is not just any legend, but a legend of great cultural importance. It is central to the Ainu
sense of self worth. If the Ainu had a feeling of cultural inferiority, then this legend would help
11
assuage their psyche, because their inferiority had a legendary, powerful, and ineluctable cause.
Batchelor indicates as much when he says: “They [the Ainu] do not like, however, to admit they
never had any books or writing materials, for they seem ashamed of being such dunces” (p115).
An important myth needs an important hero (or anti-hero). Yoshitsune is central not just
because he is a famous Japanese samurai—it is obvious here that on one level the Japanese
warriors are being blamed for stealing the sacred rights of the Ainu—but rather because
Yoshitsune is a Japanese samurai with a difference. He represents something different. There is
a duality to Yoshitsune that is important to the Ainu. This is where the differences between the
two stories are instructive. In Batchelor’s version, Yoshitsune’s last act was to vituperate his
wife and father-in-law, and by extension all Ainu. This is one side of the coin: the evil, Japanese
samurai. On the other side of the coin, in the second version, Yoshitsune is described as having
a “divine appearance.” Most importantly, his wife, Tureshi, is not left behind; she goes with him
and becomes the dramatic means of his deliverance. As we shall see later with the legend of
Yoshitsune becoming Genghis Khan, there is an inculcated sense of hope for the repressed and,
for the Ainu people, a promise of deliverance. Yoshitsune is not just any Japanese samurai; he is
an outlaw samurai, a powerful agent of potential change. Partnered with an Ainu wife, their
escape portends the possibility of a future that is not quite Ainu and not quite Japanese, where
the best aspects of both ethnicities are amalgamated and, together, thrive—even if the best aspect
of the Japanese race, in the eyes of the Ainu, might only be their cunning.
The Ainu desire to create a close association with the actual and mystical power of
Yoshitsune to disrupt the Japanese status quo has helped this legend last for centuries. As the
Ainu were regularly defeated in their actual resistance to Japan, for example in the wars of 1457,
1669, and 1789, the ability to create a positive mindset about their future with, and vis-à-vis,
12
Japan may have been possible only via a powerful legend. The duality of Yoshitsune takes true
historical form in Batchelor’s (1892) confirmation that there were even a few local Ainu in the
Saru district who worshipped Yoshitsune at a shrine of Japanese origin.
This Ainu myth is not an isolated one. Ainu myths of Yoshitsune abound. There is a
myth about him falling in love with a beautiful Ainu maiden, intended to teach lovers not to
despair at unrequited love. In this myth Yoshitsune is referred to as “governor of all Ainu-land.”
It is noted that should he die “the soul of all Ainu-land will depart. There is another myth of
Yoshitsune and his companion Benkei fishing with the Ainu, where Yoshitsune bests Benkei
(which we will see later is significant in itself) and curses a powerful swordfish to magnificent
effect, demonstrating his supernatural powers (Batchelor, 1892). As we can see, Yoshitsune is
not a bit player in the Ainu sense of self-identity; he is a pervasive and important symbol of the
Japanese/Ainu duality; his own duality making him uniquely fitted to the role.
Looking back over eight-hundred years, another aspect of Yoshitsune’s character makes
him uniquely fitted to the central role he plays in Ainu lore: he is a samurai. C. Loring Brace, an
anthropologist from the University of Michigan, presented a controversial theory in the late
1980’s after studying the skeletons of about 1,100 Ainu. He concludes that the samurai were not
of Yayoi origin. He believes they were of Jomon-Ainu blood, which he feels explains why the
facial features of the Japanese samurai class were structurally unlike those of typical Japanese. It
is a telling statement on the relationship between the two ethnicities that the reaction of one wellknown Japanese anthropologist was: “I hope you are wrong” (www.science-frontiers.com).
Yoshitsune or Genghis Khan
The mythological Yoshitsune reaches its apogee with the legend that Yoshitsune escaped to the
Asian mainland and became Genghis Khan. From our modern vantage point, this legend is
13
stretches credulity to the point of being an absurd flight of fancy. Even from the perspective of
Japanese medieval times, enough was known about Genghis Khan’s background and physical
appearance to easily discredit it. Yet this myth endured. Storry (1968) tells us that the “myth
developed, and was propagated by military enthusiasts even in modern times” (p. 39).
On face value, it is easy to see this myth as a support for resistance to established samurai
authority. As we have seen with regard to the Ainu, myths such as this one lend credibility to all
who would resist hegemony. Beyond credibility it implies power. As the Mongol forces of
Genghis Khan’s successors provided the one legitimate outside military threat to the entire
Japanese power structure, this myth can be used to stand as a warning to the powers that be of
the tenuousness of their position. It had the power to reinforce the belief, in the hearts and minds
of the downtrodden of Japan, that a great Japanese man could arise at any time from within the
ranks of the oppressed to threaten the status quo. In this form, it can also be said to carry the
pseudo-religious context of providing a savior for the Japanese people. As Friesen (2004) notes
in his study of the use of myth in John’s Book of Revelation, myth was used by both the
powerful (i.e., Roman imperial cults) and by the subjugated (i.e., early Christians) to “elevate
known characters and stories to a higher level of authority” (p.311) for the purpose of “alienating
[the] audiences from mainstream society” (p.281).
That it was ultimately the descendants of Genghis Khan who actually provided the reallife threat to the Japanese status quo is significant. It provides a narrative consistency with
Yoshitsune’s origins as the one who was spared by Taira Kiyomori and came back to exact his
vengeance. In legend, as in life, Yoshitsune is always more than just himself: he is a scion. He is
the one who got away, and who always gets away. The Genghis Khan myth stretches this power
from the person of Yoshitsune himself to his putative descendents. This allows the direct threat
14
of Yoshitsune to last well beyond his lifetime. It becomes a movement that stays alive as long as
he has perceived descendents, be they Mongol, Ainu, or otherwise.
This myth is far more complex however. It has two edges. It has been used as well by
the established military leadership to further entrench their power and pedigree. As Storry
(1968) points out, propagation of the myth by the supporters of the military has even been used
in the twentieth century to help exert their control over the population during a time of
aggressive modern warfare. How can a myth about a warrior who was wronged, ran away, and
founded a non-Japanese empire that eventually threatened Japan’s entire existence be a support
for continuity of established samurai/military rule, rather than a threat to it? The answer lies in
the reinforcement of Japanese national pride. The military leadership over time, especially
during the Tokugawa period, institutionalized a xenophobic view towards Japanese national
superiority and prowess that reinforced existing power structures. This introspective worldview
was reinforced by Japan’s hundreds of years of isolation. The Genghis Khan myth supports such
a view because it implies that the most famous challenge to Japanese authority—a challenge that
admittedly could only be overcome by the divine intervention of the kamikaze—was only
possible because it was Japanese, militaristic, and samurai in origin. This elevates the belief in
Japanese superiority to a level verging on hubris, which served the needs of the samurai
hegemons, and later militarists, at various points in Japanese history. Conversely, it helped
minimize the perceived power and credibility of anything foreign, alien, or outside the accepted
Japanese norm. As with our earlier religious analogy comparing Yoshitsune’s role to that of a
religious savior, there is an equally relevant religious aspect here. As Durkeim (date source) has
stated: ‘[Religion is] the self-validation of a society by means of myth and ritual.” (page ?).
What more could the established leadership want than to protect the status quo through myth?
15
Such a myth made the arrival of the American fleet in the nineteenth century all the more
psychologically damaging for the Japanese population and leadership. The specific origin of this
myth is unclear. Morris (1975) claims it was developed more recently, in the late Meiji period to
help justify Japanese expansion into Asia. Either way, it has intrinsic aspects that reinforce both
the dominant society and those who would resist it.
Yoshitsune in the Arts
Yoshitsune has been a favorite subject of the visual arts and the performing arts. In this
section we will look closely at different images of Yoshitsune as depicted in wood block prints,
in literature, in famous No and Kabuki dramas, in film, and in popular television series.
Hogan Biiki: Sympathy for the Underdog
The role of mythology
Conclusion
Perhaps Freisen (2004) summarizes it best: “The production of new, disruptive mythology…is
not conducive to the maintenance of social hierarchies. It was a dangerous deployment in
defense of a minority perspective” (p.313).
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References
Batchelor, J. (1892). The Ainu of Japan. Fleming H. Revell Company: New York.
Butler, K. D. (1967). Yoshitsune: a fifteenth-century Japanese chronicle. Harvard Journal of
Asiatic Studies, 27, pp. 256-261.
Desser, D. (1983, 2nd ed.). The samurai films of Akira Kurasawa. UMI Reasearch Press: Ann
Arbor, MI.
Friday, K. F. (2004). Samurai, warfare and the state in early medieval Japan. Routledge:
London.
Friesen, S. J. (2004). Myth and symbolic resistance in Revelation 13. Journal of Biblical
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