Zenpukuji -
Temple and Politics

Monasteries are traditional places of hospitality. They are large and spacious and used to taking in all kinds of people. Therefore, it is not surprising that the first Europeans and Americans who came to Japan to establish diplomatic relations, were housed in temples. Gyokusenji in Shimoda, where the first American Consul General, Townsend Harris, took up residence, is a good case in point. When the first diplomatic representatives moved to Edo (Tokyo), several temples were assigned to them. Townsend Harris also made the move and settled in Zenpukuji in Azabu...

Zenpukuji stands just south of the Ichinohashi Crossing in Azabu Juban. It seems to have been there for a long time, as it dates its founding to Kukai (Kobo Daishi, 774-835). Then, so many temples claim to have been set up by this famous monk. If Kukai had performed all foundings that have been ascribed to him, a lifetime of three hundred years would not have been enough. Zenpukuji enters history in 1232 when it changed affiliation from the Shingon School to the teachings of Shinran, the founder of devotional Buddhism.

Temple legend has it that Shinran even visited Zenpukuji. He planted his walking stick in the courtyard and a wonder happened, for it grew into a large Gingko tree. However, were it nor for Harris and his legation, this cane tree would not have sufficed to propel Zenpukuji into world-history.

The view of Zenpukuji's Main Hall
is destroyed by an eyesore apartment building

The End of a Young Life
Harris came here in 1859. It was not a nice time to be in Japan as a foreigner. Because of the unequal treaties the foreign powers had used to break their way into the country, anti-foreign sentiment was running high. After arduous negotiations, the United States was the first country to establish such a treaty with Japan. Ironically, it was called the Treaty of Amity and Friendship.

Under this treaty, Harris was allowed to settle in the Shogun's capital, just at the time that same Shogun was finally losing his grip on the country. Ronin, masterless samurai, would make sudden attacks on both the foreigners and representatives of the Bakufu government, and the atmosphere was tense.

Harris came to Tokyo with a diplomatic assistant of Dutch origin, Henry Heusken. The young Mr. Heusken was most valuable as interpreter, as the only foreign language (except, of course, Chinese) the Japanese had mastered was Dutch - thanks to the centuries long Dutch presence on Deshima.

Dutch was the only Western language the Japanese heard and Dutch books were the only foreign books they saw, so it is not surprising that in the mid-nineteenth century the Japanese believed Dutch was a sort of world language. Their delusion would not last long, but for the time being Townsend Harris had to avail himself of the services of the Dutch interpreter, who also acted as First Secretary of the legation.

As expected, life at the legation in Zenpukuji was not quiet. Fanatical Ronin managed to burn down some of the temple's buildings, and foreigners were often attacked in the streets. As much as he could, Harris stayed inside Zenpukuji's walls, but the young and spirited Henry Heusken enjoyed riding around town on horseback. He was not afraid to go out after dark.

Disaster struck on a cold and rainy night in January 1861. Not far from Zenpukuji, at Nakanohashi Bridge, a group of five Ronin lay in hiding. When Henry Heusken appeared, as usual on horseback and accompanied by a small escort, the masked swordsmen jumped at him from two sides. They uttered a terrific war cry and thrust at him with their razor-sharp swords. Although Heusken spurred on his horse and managed to ride away, he was mortally wounded by a slash of a samurai blade.

When he was finally taken to Zenpukuji, he had already suffered severe loss of blood and later that night, he died. In Zenpukuji interment was forbidden as it stood too close to the city center, and so Heusken found a grave in Korinji, another Azabu temple just a little bit further out.

Gingko tree and Shinran statue
seen from the graveyard

A Prehistoric Tree
I used to live in Azabu but never went to Zenpukuji, although it could have been a nice Sunday afternoon walk. Now, after a long time, I am back again in my old neighborhood. Feeling suitably nostalgic, I walk through Arisugawa Park and go down the hill at the side of the Chinese embassy. Azabu is a maze of narrow streets and steep slopes. The embassies are still there, even more than in the time of Townsend Harris.

Azabu Juban lies at the foot of the hill and thus forms the downtown part of fashionable Azabu. It is a busy shopping district among high, narrow apartment buildings and small offices. One can not call it the nicest part of town. In front of it runs a busy road that is capped by a double-decker expressway. There used to be a river here (a small black canal is all that is left) and a series of bridges, where samurai could go into hiding. Now it is a rather tasteless and grimy part of Tokyo, especially on overcast days.

When I finally manage to locate it, I discover there is not much to see in Zenpukuji. The fact that Zenpukuji was the site of the American legation is commemorated by a large stone sitting prominently in the courtyard. The main hall of Harris' time must have been an impressive building, founded by the third Tokugawa Shogun, but it was burnt to ashes in a 1945 air raid. What is more, the present temple has been dwarfed by an eyesore megalomanic apartment tower.

The gingko or as it is called in English, "Maidenhair tree," is the best thing to see here, a generous patch of green in the stone jungle of Azabu Juban. If it dates from the time of Shinran, the apostle of Pure Land Buddhism, it must be 750 years old. It is 20 meters high and has a trunk span of more than 9 meters.

Gingkos are strange trees. They are prehistoric and have not changed in their 200 million-year history. They have been called "living fossils." There are male and female trees and the wind has to carry the pollen of the male tree to the female flowers. The ripe seed has a bad smell, but the nuts inside are a delicacy. The typical, fan shaped leaves turn a beautiful yellow in autumn. It is a robust tree, resistant to cold, disease and urban pollution.

From Zenpukuji, I walk to Korinji to visit Heusken's grave. The road leads under the highway and I battle with gasoline fumes, beleaguered by the thunder of trucks. I hope I am just as strong as the gingko tree.

Heusken's grave

Like Dust in the Wind
Korinji is no more than a graveyard, set back from the road and therefore quiet. I find Heusken's stone in a corner at the back. It has a cross on it and a simple inscription listing Heusken's dates. He died before he was thirty. The grave is clean and seems newly refurbished. It is strange graveyard, hemmed in - as sometimes happens in densely packed Tokyo - by apartments. It does not seem very appealing to have a constant view of graves from your living room, just a few meters away, but on the other hand, it may be more appealing than watching television with its dead ghosts...

I am the only visitor, but that people do sometimes come here is proven by the presence of few bottles of Dutch jenever (gin) in front of the stone. The gravestone is in Japanese style, but there is also cross engraved on it.

What happened to the assassins? They were never caught, perhaps purposefully so, in order not to upset the volatile political climate. Later historians have been able to identify several of them, as well as the man who was the brain behind the attack. Their course of terrorist action did not allow them to become very old. Most of them died at ages comparable to Heusken.

It does not matter anymore. Time has gone by and the conflicts and politics of a hundred years ago are only footnotes to the march of time. All that rests of the striving, the pushing and the envy, is a handful of dust, blown in the wind.

Jizo statue in Korinji