This episode we look at some of the physical evidence from this period. In particular, since we are talking about the sovereign known as Ankan Tenno, we will look at a glass bowl, said to have come from his tomb, which appears to have made its way all the way from Sassanid Persia to Japan between the 5th and 6th centuries CE. Along the way we'll take a brief look at the route that such an item may have taken to travel across the Eurasian continent all the way to Japan. For more on this episode, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-79 Where we are: Website: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast Libsyn: https://feeds.libsyn.com/209813/rss YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@the.sengoku.daimyo Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wwwsengokudaimyo BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/tatsushu.bsky.social How to contribute: Patreon: https://patreon.com/SengokuDaimyo Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo BuyMeACoffee: https://buymeacoffee.com/sengokudaimyo Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 79: Ankan's Glass Bowl. We are currently in the early part of the 6th century. Last episode was our New Year's wrapup, but just before that we talked about the reign of Magari no Ōye, aka Ohine, aka Ankan Tennō. According to the Chronicles, he was the eldest son of Wohodo, aka Keitai Tennō, coming to the throne in 534. For all of the various Miyake, or Royal Grannaries, that he granted, his reign only lasted about two years, coming to an unfortunate end in the 12th month of 535. The Chronicles claim that Ohine was 70 years old when he died, which would seem to indicate he was born when his father, Wohodo, was only 13 years of age. That seems rather young, but not impossibly so. It is said that Ankan Tennō was buried on the hill of Takaya, in the area of Furuichi. And that is where my personal interest in him and his short reign might end, if not for a glass bowl that caught my eye in the Tokyo National Museum. Specifically, it was the Heiseikan, which is where the Tokyo National Museum hosts special exhibitions, but it also hosts a regular exhibition on Japanese archaeology. In fact, if you ever get the chance, I highly recommend checking it out. I mean, let's be honest, the Tokyo National Museum is one of my favorite places to visit when I'm in Tokyo. I think there is always something new—or at least something old that I find I'm taking a second look at. The Japanese archaeology section of the Heiseikan covers from the earliest stone tools through the Jomon, Yayoi, Kofun, and up to about the Nara period. They have originals or replicas of many items that we've talked about on the podcast, including the gold seal of King Na of Wa, the Suda Hachiman mirror, and the swords from Eta Funayama and Inariyama kofun, which mention Wakatakiru no Ōkimi, generally thought to be the sovereign known as Yuuryaku Tennō. They also have one of the large iron tate, or shields, on loan from Isonokami Shrine, and lots of bronze mirrors and various types of haniwa. Amongst this treasure trove of archaeological artifacts, one thing caught my eye from early on. It is a small, glass bowl, round in shape, impressed throughout with a series of round indentations, almost like a giant golf ball. Dark brown streaks crisscross the bowl, where it has been broken and put back together at some point in the past. According to the placard, this Juuyo Bunkazai, or Important Cultural Property, is dated to about the 6th century, was produced somewhere in West Asia, and it is said to have come from the tomb of none other than Ankan Tennō himself. This has always intrigued me. First and foremost there is the question of provenance—while there are plenty of tombs that have been opened over the years, generally speaking the tombs of the imperial family, especially those identified as belonging to reigning sovereigns, have been off limits to most archaeological investigations. So how is it that we have artifacts identified with the tomb of Ankan Tennō, if that is the case? The second question, which almost trumps the first, is just how did a glass bowl from west Asia make it all the way to Japan in the 6th century? Of course, Japan and northeast Asia in general were not strangers to glassmaking—glass beads have a long history both on the Korean peninsula and in the archipelago, including the molds used to make them. However, it is one thing to melt glass and pour it into molds, similar to working with cast bronze. These bowls, however, appear to be something different. They were definitely foreign, and, as we shall see, they had made quite the journey. So let's take a look and see if we can't answer both of these questions, and maybe learn a little bit more about the world of 6th century Japan along the way. To start with, let's look at the provenance of this glass bowl. Provenance is important—there are numerous stories of famous "finds" that turned out to be fakes, or else items planted by someone who wanted to get their name out there. Archaeology—and its close cousin, paleontology—can get extremely competitive, and if you don't believe me just look up the Bone Wars of the late 19th century. Other names that come to mind: The infamous Piltdown man, the Cardiff Giant, and someone we mentioned in one of our first episodes, Fujimura Shin'ichi, who was accused of salting digs to try to claim human habitation in Japan going back hundreds of thousands of years. This is further complicated by the fact that, in many cases, the situation behind a given find is not necessarily well documented. There are Edo period examples of Jomon pottery, or haniwa, that were found, but whose actual origins have been lost to time. Then there are things like the seal of King Na of Wa, which is said to have been discovered by a farmer, devoid of the context that would help to otherwise clear the questions that continue to surround such an object. On top of this, there are plenty of tombs that have been worn down over the ages—where wind and water have eroded the soil, leaving only the giant stone bones, or perhaps washing burial goods into nearby fields or otherwise displacing them. So what is the story with the tomb of Ankan Tennō, and this glass bowl? To answer this, let's first look at the tomb attributed to Ankan Tennō. The Nihon Shoki tells us in the 8th century that this tomb was located at Takaya, in the area of Furuichi. This claim is later repeated by the Engi Shiki in the 10th century. Theoretically, the compilers of both of these works had some idea of where this was, but in the hundreds of years since then, a lot has happened. Japan has seen numerous governments, as well as war, famine, natural disaster, and more. At one point, members of the royal household were selling off calligraphy just to pay for the upkeep of the court, and while the giant kofun no doubt continued to be prominent features for locals in the surrounding areas, the civilian and military governments of the intervening centuries had little to no budget to spare for their upkeep. Records were lost, as were many details. Towards the end of the Edo period, and into the early Meiji, a resurgence in interest in the royal, or Imperial, family and their ancient mausoleums caused people to investigate the texts and attempt to identify mausoleums for each of the sovereigns, as well as other notable figures, in the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki. Given that many of those figures are likely fictional or legendary individuals, one can see how this may be problematic. And yet, the list that eventually emerged has become the current list of kofun protected by the Imperial Household Agency as imperial mausolea. Based on what we know, today, some of these official associations seem obviously questionable. Some of them, for instance, are not even keyhole shaped tombs—for instance, some are circular, or round tombs, where the claim is often made that the other parts of the tomb were eroded or washed away. Still others engender their own controversy, such as who, exactly, is buried in Daisen-ryō, the largest kofun, claimed to be the resting place of Ōsazaki no Mikoto, aka Nintoku Tennō. Some people, however, claim that it is actually the sovereign Woasatsuma Wakugo, aka Ingyō Tennō, who is buried there, instead. What is the truth? Well, without opening up the main tomb, who is to say, and even then it is possible that any evidence may have already been lost to the acidic soils of the archipelago, which are hardly kind to organic matter. By the way, quick divergence, here—if you look up information on Daisen-ryō, aka Daisen Kofun, you may notice that there are drawings of a grave, including a coffin, associated with it. That might get you thinking, as I did at one point, that Daisen kofun had already been opened, but it turns out that was a grave on the slopes of the square end of the kofun, and not from the main, circular burial mound. Theoretically this may have been an important consort, or perhaps offspring or close relative of the main individual interred in the kofun, but most likely it is not for the person for whom the giant mound was actually erected. So, yes, Daisen kofun remains unopened, at least as far as we know. As for the kofun identified for Ankan Tennō, today that is the tomb known as Furuichi Tsukiyama Kofun, aka Takaya Tsukiyama Kofun. While the connection to Ankan Tennō may be somewhat unclear, the kofun has had its own colorful history, in a way. Now most of the reports I could find, from about '92 up to 2022, place this kofun, which is a keyhole shaped kofun, in the correct time period—about the early to mid-6th century, matching up nicely with a 534 to 535 date for the reign given to Ankan Tennō. But what is fascinating is the history around the 15