Indomitable: Hangaku Gozen rides into battle swinging
her bloodstained naginata and wearing yoroi armor symbolic of leadership during
the siege of Torisaka Castle (in present-day Ehime Prefecture, Shikoku) in
1201, after her clan rose up against the powerful Minamoto Shogunate in a
(losing) medieval power struggle.
The study of Japanese history raises the often asked question of whether there were female warriors. There were indeed a number of them, right through until the late 1860s, though in some cases it is difficult to separate legend from fact. They were certainly not as numerous as, for example, Celtic female warriors. Among the better-known female warriors, one of Yoritomo’s relatives, his cousin Yoshinaka (1154–84, whom Yoritomo had killed), had a concubine Hangaku Gozen (ca.1160–1247) who is credited with taking a number of heads during the Genpei War, and in modern history Nakano Takako (1847–68) was killed fighting in the Boshin War of 1868–69. However, female warriors were not formally recognised as samurai. The term applied to them was onna bugeisha, meaning literally ‘women skilled in martial arts’.
A salient and thought-provoking characteristic of most
ancient cultures is the predominant role played by women in the history and
management of clan affairs. Historiography often seems to minimize the early,
strongly matriarchal aspects of man’s social units; the frequently myopic views
of chroniclers of later ages and periods, bent upon reinforcing the
preconceived notions of their patrons, tend largely to either denigrate woman’s
role in the military history of early civilizations or ignore it entirely. Ancient
sagas, archaeological discoveries, and the painstaking work of anthropologists,
however, indicate widespread participation by women in clan or tribal life in
pre- and proto-historical times, from the icy lands of Northern Europe to the
tropical cultures of Egypt and Mesopotamia, in both ancient Sparta and the
Celtic clans of Western Europe, as well as in nomad tribes roaming the steppes
of Mongolia and, of course, in the many clan cultures of Southeast Asia and
China.
In Japan, woman’s originally predominant role finds its
first expression in the mythological records of that land, which traditionally
emphasize the supremacy of Amaterasu, the solar goddess, among all the deities
in the Japanese pantheon, as well as equating the position of Izanagi, the
female, with that of Izanami, the male, on the fighting level. The long shadow
cast by ancient matriarchal influence is also apparent in the predominance of
the solar cult, which was female in its original Japanese conception.
Even the first chronicles of Japanese history are filled
with the exploits of warrior queens leading their troops against enemy
strongholds in the land of Yamato or across the straits to Korea. In time, the
growing influence of Confucian doctrine began to reduce her position of
preeminence, hedging her about with restrictions of every sort, which, however,
were not always accepted as meekly as later historians would have us believe.
In the Heian period we find her not on the battlefield perhaps, but occupying a
position of prominence in the cultural hierarchy of the age. Certain
aristocratic ladies of kuge status emerged as literary figures of astounding
insight and sophistication. Their literary production, although not expressed
in the rigid and pedantic forms of classical Chinese writing generally
preferred by the scholars of the time, provides one of the first manifestations
of a truly indigenous form of expression, whose depth of perception, as well as
complex content, help to explain why the various empresses and aristocratic
dames of Nara and Kyoto wielded such power, whether governing directly or
guiding more subtly (if just as effectively) the affairs of state from places
of retirement or seclusion.
From the provinces, a new breed of women, the female members
of the buke, joined their menfolk in the struggle for political and military
predominance. These women did not lead troops as in archaic times, but, steeped
in the same martial tradition and clinging to those warlike customs which
characterized their men as a class, they were a stern reflection of their male
counterparts. As such, they acted to consolidate and reinforce those qualities
considered of fundamental importance to the emerging class of the buke. The
product of a particular system, the samurai woman became its soundest basis and
transmitter.
One such woman was Lady Masa (Masako), wife of the first
Kamakura shogun, Minamoto Yoritomo. Mere quoted Brinkley in describing her as
“astute, crafty, resourceful and heroic,” adding:
During her husband’s lifetime she wielded immense influence
and after his death she virtually ruled the empire. This seems to be the only
recorded instance in the history of Japan when the supreme power was wielded by
a woman who was neither Empress nor Empress-dowager. Nominally, of course, Lady
Masa did not rule, but her power and influence were very real. (Mere, 16)
The samurai woman was trained to be as loyal and totally
committed as her father, brothers, and husband to their immediate superior in
the clan hierarchy and, like her male relatives, was expected to carry out
every authorized assignment, including those which might involve force of arms.
Thus it is not surprising to find in the literature of bujutsu the annotation
that women of the buke were trained in the use of traditional weapons, which
they were expected to use against a foe or, if necessary, to end their own
lives. Moreover, many episodes concerning the rise of the warrior class mention
women who played militarily determinant roles—even joining their menfolk on the
battlefield upon occasion. Certain chronicles, for example, mention Tomoe, the
wife of one of Yoshitomo’s nephews, Yoshinaka. Authors who have discussed her
exploits are almost unanimous “in praising her great strength and skill with weapons,
her superb horsemanship and her fearless courage” (Mere, 15). She used to ride
into battle with her husband, leading and encouraging his troops with her
initiative and bearing. She even displayed that peculiar anger typical of the
professional fighter when an opponent handles him cavalierly. It is related, in
fact, that she killed several enemy retainers in single combat at the battle of
Azazu-no-Hara: “when their leader, Uchida Iyeyoshi, attempted to capture her,
she struck her horse and her sleeve, which he had seized, was rent and a part
of it was left in his hand. Angered at this, she wheeled her charger and
attacking him in her turn, cut off his head, which she forthwith presented to
her husband” (Mere, 14-15).
Among the weapons the samurai woman handled with skill was
the spear, both the straight (yari) and the curved (naginata), which
customarily hung over the doors of every military household and which she could
use against charging foes or any unauthorized intruder found within the precincts
of the clan’s establishment. She was also equally well versed in handling the
short dagger (kaiken), which, like the male warrior’s wakizashi, was always
carried on her person (usually in her sleeve or sash) and which she could
deftly employ against armed foes in close combat or throw with deadly accuracy.
This same dagger was the one a samurai woman would use if she undertook to
commit ceremonial suicide, not by piercing her lower abdomen as would her male
counterpart, but rather by cutting her throat in accordance with the exact
rules of ritual suicide, which also instructed her in the correct manner of
tying her ankles together, in order to insure that her body would be found
properly composed, whatever her death agonies. Under the name jigai, in fact, suicide
was as familiar to her as it was to her menfolk.
She not only accepted death resignedly at the hands of her
male relatives or superiors if capture by enemy forces was imminent, but even
dispatched the men herself if, for any reason, they were unable or unwilling to
perform the ritual act, sparing neither herself nor her children in such a
situation. One of the most ancient episodes concerning the making and executing
of this decision in accordance with martial tradition is to be found in the
ancient sagas which describe the destruction of the Taira clan during the great
sea battle at Dan-no-Ura, in the straits of Shimonoseki. Nii-no-Ama,
grandmother of the infant Emperor Antoku (son of Kiyomori’s daughter Tokuko or
Kenrei-mon-in), when confronted with the alternative of surrendering to the
warriors of the Minamoto clans, clasped the child tightly in her arms and
plunged with him into the waves of the straits, followed by other court ladies
and Tokuko as well. The emperor’s mother was rescued by force, but the others
succeeded in drowning themselves and the infant heir.
The samurai woman also used suicide as a form of protest
against an injustice she felt had been perpetrated against her by a superior.
One of the most striking examples of this is related by François Caron
(1600-73). The powerful lord of Higo had engineered the murder of one of his
most loyal vassals so that he might include the beautiful wife of the deceased
among his concubines. The woman requested a certain period of time within which
to mourn and bury her husband and then asked the lord to assemble the highest
dignitaries of the clan and her husband’s friends on the tower of his castle,
ostensibly to celebrate the end of her mourning period. Since she might very
well have stabbed herself with her kaiken if anyone had tried to force her to
violate her mourning period, her requests were granted. On the appointed day,
as the ceremony in honor of her slain husband drew to a close, she suddenly
threw herself from the tower “and broke her neck” (Cooper, 83) before the very
eyes of the lord of Higo, his vassals, and the dignitaries of the clan. This
type of suicide, although not performed strictly in accordance with the rules
of ritual suicide, was recognized as one of valid protest (kan-shi) against a
master’s injustice. It created a dilemma in military minds, however, since it
was also a breach of the code of absolute loyalty which dictated that the
lady’s life was not hers to dispose of, especially not in such an independent
manner.
Equally famous in Japanese literature and theater is the
story of Kesa-gozen, the wife of an imperial guard in Kyoto during the twelfth
century, when the buke was being drawn toward the imploding and collapsing
center of the empire. This lady was the object of another warrior’s passion and
he was determined to have her. When her pursuer planned to murder her husband
in his sleep, she substituted herself in her husband’s bed and allowed herself
to be decapitated in his stead, thus saving her honor and her husband’s life at
one and the same time.
As ferocious and determined as male members of the buke, the
samurai woman also took upon herself, when necessary, the duty of revenge which
the particularly Japanese interpretation of Confucian doctrine had rendered
both an absolute and virtually automatic response to the death or dishonor of
one’s lord. “Not only did man consider it his duty to avenge his family or
lord,” wrote Dautremer, “but woman herself did not fail before the task. Of
this, Japanese history gives us many instances” (Dautremer, 83). Even
throughout the long and debilitating Tokugawa period, she remained generally
attached (often even more strongly than her male counterpart) to the clan’s
rule of loyalty, that is, to the uji-no-osa and, by delegation, to her husband.
In an era characterized by the degeneration of martial virtues, by effeminate
behavior, profligacy, and dissipation within the “floating world” (ukiyo) of a
new culture, she was noted for her chastity, fidelity, and self-control. For
centuries, she remained a forbidding figure, clearly traditionalist and
conservative in outlook and action, who clung tenaciously to the martial ethos
of her clan not only in essence (which the Tokugawa period was diluting
substantially), but also in form and paraphernalia.
As the nucleus of those households which even today maintain
the ties linking them to the feudal past, many of these women continue to
resist change and bring up their children beneath the aristocratic shadow of
the family’s kami—an ancient suit of armor before which sticks of incense burn
night and day. Many of their sons enter the military academies of Japan, while
their daughters face one another across the spacious dojo where the ancient art
of naginatajutsu is taught to them, as well as to other girls of lesser
military lineage but of equally intense attachment to the tradition which
produced the samurai woman.
The Role of the Arms-Bearing Women in Japanese History
