Chusonji -
Golden Glitter in the North

A golden Buddha hall, standing deep in the woods of Japan's northern countryside, shimmering like a soft light in the dark wilds... Chusonji was originally founded in 850 by the priest Ennin, but its days of glory started when in 1105 it was restored and considerably enlarged by Fujiwara no Kiyohira.

Kiyohira was the leader of a warrior clan that had won dominance over all of northern Japan. They claimed to be family of the leading aristocratic family of Kyoto, the Fujiwara. Whether those ties were an invention or not, Kiyohira tried hard to prove his cultural worthiness by establishing a city in Hiraizumi that could vie with Kyoto. In what hitherto had been sheer wilderness, the elegance of Japan's capital was recreated. Chusonji, lying on a hill in the new city, was one of Kiyohira's major projects, and designed as his family temple. Building activities continued for two decades, until more than 40 temples graced the precincts and Chusonji without a doubt had become one of the largest monasteries in all of Japan.

Unfortunately, Hiraizumi's splendor only lasted three generations. Kiyohira's son Motohira continued the upward curve - he built the famous paradise garden temple of Motsuji - but under Hidehira and finally Yasuhira the fortune of the northern Fujiwara came to a tragic end. The last two lords became enmeshed in intrigues of the Minamoto clan, who had become the new power-mongers of Japan. The Minamoto were not willing to allow a virtually independent mini-state in northern Japan and took care that they had reason to thrash the Fujiwara. An army sent to the north by Minamoto no Yoritomo in 1189 completely razed Hiraizumi, setting fire to its palaces and temples and putting its inhabitants to the sword, until a grassy plain was all that remained of the former magnificence. The short-lived marvel of Chusonji today only survives in two buildings, the Golden Hall and the Sutra Library.

The entrance to Chusonji

A Broken Silence
From the bus stop at the foot of the hill, a broad path leads gradually upward to the temple. This is the tsukimizaka, the moon-viewing slope. Walking under the stately cryptomeria trees, the only distraction is the jarring sound of traffic on the highroad at the bottom of the hill. I pass a teahouse where Basho rested when he came by Chusonji on his Narrow Road to the Deep North. Deeper in the forest, silence reigns. From one point high on the hill, there is a glorious view over the valley in which the great city once stood. Now, all is farmland.
At the flat top of the hill where the temple grounds proper start, the magic is abruptly broken. Flag-waving guides are herding large tour groups along the lanes. The tourists are shouting, chattering and joking - in short, they are having the same fun as if they were visiting Disneyland. One wishes they had.

The noisy groups have come up via a new road that leads almost to the top and ends in a parking lot for which many of the beautiful old trees on the hill have been sacrificed. That the temple has fallen for the lure of mass tourism is also shown by the hefty entrance fee necessary to see the Golden Hall. Now standing inside a modern concrete structure, the hall is further protected from the tourists by a thick glass wall and a watchful security guard. A loudspeaker attached high under the ceiling constantly blears out explanations.

The Golden Hall is surprisingly small. It measures only 5.5 square meters. In the middle stands a large altar that is flanked by two smaller ones further back to the sides. On top of the altars so many Buddhist statues have been placed that they almost drop off. There is a central Amida Trinity, flanked by the four Heavenly Kings and by six Jizo statues. All sculpture is in the graceful style of the capital, Kyoto, and there is none of the rugged grandeur of some other northern statues. The pillars of the hall have been inlaid with mother-of-pearl and the altars and statues are covered with gold leaf. Even the outside walls and terrace of the hall are plated in thick gold.

The northern Fujiwara had obtained their fabulous wealth relatively easily, thanks to the discovery of gold mines in the territory they controlled. Kiyohira may also have been a 'nouveau riche,' who liked to show off his newly won wealth.

Fuda or stickers with pilgrim's names on the gate

The Tombs under the Golden Altar
It seems surprising that this rich hall was spared by the plundering troops who reduced the rest of the temple to the status of mere rubble. Why didn't they crush the hall to pieces and take the gold home? There is a simple explanation. It was fear for the dead, awe for the avenging powers of ghostly spirits that kept the raiders from touching it. The Golden Hall was in fact a grave - a secret that was laid bare when the hall was restored in 1962.

When the first lord, Kiyohira died, his mummified remains were on his request buried under the altar of the golden hall. The Amida, standing in central position on the altar, is the Buddha of the Western Paradise, who receives the souls of the virtuous dead in his kingdom of bliss. In Kiyohira's times, many Amida halls were built by the rich and powerful to ensure themselves of such a rebirth. At the moment of death, people would grab a rope attached to an Amida statue in order to ensure that they would be saved. However, to have yourself mummified and buried right under an Amida statue is an extreme expression of this faith. It seems as if Kiyohira, even in death, wanted to sleep right under his hoard of gold.

Kiyohira was followed by his son and grandson, who both had their tomb and altar built on the flanks of the original one. Conveniently, the fourth lord lost the kingdom, for there would have been no space for him anymore. At the same time, he also lost his head, and it was the head that in a lacquered box was later placed in the tomb of his father.

The head box (minus the head) is now on view in the temple museum, as is one of the coffins and a wide array of golden objects, originally buried under the altars. During the restoration work in 1962, the coffins were opened and the contents examined. I do not know what happened to the mummies afterwards, but it seems that they are not lying in their golden tombs anymore.

The Noh Stage

After seeing the Golden Hall, I discover the most beautiful part of Chusonji. These are the buildings at the back of the grounds, such as the Sutra Library - the other original building, dating from 1108 -, and a Shinto shrine with a lovely Noh stage. These buildings lie in a secluded spot too far away for the hasty tour groups, and I linger there for a long time, contemplating Chusonji and its fate. Chusonji is the ultimate expression of human vanity, and like all conceit it quickly came to the fall.