Buddhism, Shintoism, ultra-nationalism, and sakura

We visited a famous Buddhist temple, Zōjō-ji (増上寺), in Tokyo and used the grounds as a backdrop for a classic family photo. The white flowers on the trees are cherry blossoms, known as sakura in Japanese. Based on reading the historical markers at the temple, I realized the temple itself is the story of the Japanese twentieth century. (Also, it is a reminder of how I can suck the fun out of vacations: stopping at every historical marker, reading every paragraph, and turning fun tourism into a comparative social sciences course. I am sorry, in advance, Bobby, for all of our family vacations.)

The FD Linges posing for a family photo. I have a tinge of anxiety about this photo. Are we appropriating some sacred religious site for a family photo just because it looks cool and "very Japanese"? Are we being culturally insensitive just because we want to show friends and family that we visited Japan? One thing is for sure, as it was raining when this photo was taken, the awning formed a convenient rain shield.

In the story of the Japanese twentieth century, I can link together all the nouns in this post's title. At the temple I learned it had previously been sacred Buddhist site to the shoguns, but Buddhism was eclipsed in favor of Shintoism during the run-up to World War II. The temple was rebuilt after World War II and is now again a center of Buddhist culture for Tokyo.

(the part to skip if you don't like socio-political analysis)

• Let me take a step back to add additional historical context to these Buddhist and Shinto waves. In the American historical narrative of Japan's twentieth century -- and I believe in the Japanese version of events as well -- there were two crescendos. World War II ended with a major decrescendo.
• Crescendo number one: The shogun was deposed in the 19th century and the emperor restored to his supreme position among the Japanese people (the Meiji Restoration); as the economy grew, an ultra-national leadership steadily took control of Japan. Shintoism, as a worship of the Japanese spirit, was a convenient mechanism for the state to encourage an increasingly furious nationalism, with the emperor as its worldly embodiment. Buddhism, as a peaceful life philosophy originating in India, was deemed inappropriate for a nationalist and militarized society, and Zōjō-ji went to seed.
• Crescendo number two: After ending World War II in shatters, the Japanese rebuilt the state and economy with an aversion to the violent nationalism that had previously captured them. Zōjō-ji was rebuilt after being burned in the war, and Shintoism and Buddhism begin coexisting. (Shintoism may not be considered a "religion" as we may think of it in the West: today it's more of an appreciation of Japanese traditions. Buddhism doesn't necessarily require the faith in a god like Christianity, but as a set of rules for life, it may be closer to what we Westerners may think of as "religion.") The economy grew, and the Japanese remain proud of their history, if embarrassed about part of it, and are in fact now famous pacifists.

The meaning of sakura parallels the story. In Japanese, sakura means "cherry blossoms," but this simple translation leaves out the national tradition wrapped up with these flowers. The flowers were a symbol of national pride, symbolizing the Japanese spirit, and featured in nationalist propaganda. The flowers still indicate the arrival of spring but now without symbolizing a militarized nationalism of people resurgent. Now, they are a symbol that it's time to forget the winter, go outside, visit parks, have picnics, drink outdoors, and shop and shop and shop.

This year's sakura experience for the FD Linges wasn't the flower-fueled, vernal equinox bacchanalia in a park that I had hoped. The weather was colder than anticipated, the sun rarely shone, and it rained constantly, though often lightly. It's tough to pack for a six week trip that starts out in the Chicago winter, includes a month in the tropics, and ends during spring in the temperate zone. Oh, and you're lugging a baby (and crib and car seat). You will notice in the Tokyo photos that I am constantly wearing the blazer I wore to Wei Hao's wedding because I didn't have another jacket to wear during these chilly days. We made the best of it, but with less frolicking than I expected.

A look on the bright side: in the rainy days we experienced sakura season, we were not subjected to the massive crowds of surging locals and tourists trying to have, well, the outdoor bacchanalia I was trying to have.

I don't know who these people are, but their umbrellas refer to the rain and the grey skies. On the left is Zōjō-ji, and on the right is the Tokyo Tower. Their juxtaposition provides a nice explanation of modern Japan -- maybe like the glass pyramid and the Louvre in Paris.

Before Bobby realizes I can't help but add boring parts to otherwise fun vacations.