[c. 14,000 BCE – 794 CE] Ancient Japan

Our story begins in the immense deep time of c. 14,000 BCE, on the archipelago we now call Japan. This was the dawn of the Jomon period, an era of astonishing longevity that would last for over ten thousand years. Forget sprawling cities and emperors; for millennia, life here was dictated by the rhythm of the seasons. The people were hunter-gatherers, but they were not aimlessly nomadic. They built settled communities, often of pit-dwellings dug into the earth for warmth, their thatched roofs huddled against the elements. In the flickering firelight of these homes, a unique culture blossomed. Its most enduring testament is its pottery, the very craft that gives the period its name—Jomon, or “cord-marked,” for the patterns pressed into the wet clay with rope. Imagine the feel of that coarse, beautiful earthenware, not turned on a wheel, but coiled and shaped by hand. Some later pieces, known as “flame-style” pottery, are wildly ornate, with sculptural rims that flare up like fire, suggesting a rich spiritual life. What did they believe? We can only guess, piecing together clues from enigmatic clay figurines known as dogu, often depicting female forms with wide, goggle-like eyes. Were they mother goddesses, shamanic figures, or something else entirely? They remain silent witnesses to a world governed by the hunt, the catch, and the deep, silent forests.

A profound change began around 300 BCE. New people arrived, sailing across the sea from the Asian mainland, and they brought with them a revolution. This was the start of the Yayoi period, and the newcomers carried three things that would forever alter the destiny of the islands: the knowledge of wet-rice cultivation, the secrets of bronze, and the power of iron. The lush, wild landscape began to transform. Forests were cleared, and shimmering green paddies, irrigated by a complex network of canals, spread across the lowlands. The stable, abundant food source allowed for larger, permanent villages, some fortified with moats and watchtowers, hinting at a new and dangerous reality: conflict over land and resources. The old equality of the Jomon hunter bands gave way to a stratified society. Chieftains emerged, their authority symbolized by new and precious objects. Bronze was not for tools, but for ceremony and status—great bells known as dotaku, decorated with simple scenes of nature and village life, and polished mirrors, believed to hold magical power. Iron, however, was for the practical and the deadly: stronger farming tools and sharper weapons. For the first time, Chinese historical texts mention the people of the archipelago, calling their land “Wa.” They describe a country of a hundred-odd states, some ruled by queens, sending tribute to the great Chinese empire.

Out of this patchwork of competing chiefdoms, one clan rose to unquestionable dominance. By the 3rd century CE, Japan entered the Kofun period, the “Age of Great Tombs.” The ruling elite announced their power not with words, but by reshaping the very earth. Across the plains, especially in the Kinai region near modern-day Osaka and Nara, they constructed colossal burial mounds, or kofun. The most impressive were built in a distinctive keyhole shape. These were not mere graves; they were monumental public works projects, requiring the labor of thousands. The largest, the Daisen Kofun, attributed to the 4th-century Emperor Nintoku, covers more area than the Great Pyramid of Giza. Its silent, forested mound, surrounded by three moats, is a breathtaking statement of absolute authority. Who were these rulers? They were the leaders of the Yamato clan, the direct ancestors of Japan’s imperial line. They did not lie alone in their tombs. The mounds were surrounded by thousands of terracotta clay figures called haniwa. These simple but expressive sculptures show us their world: proud warriors in armor, graceful women in patterned robes, farmhouses, boats, and, most importantly, meticulously detailed horses, a sign of a new and powerful mounted warrior aristocracy.

The next great wave of change arrived not on a tide of migrants, but in the form of an idea. In the year 538 CE (or 552, depending on the account), the king of Baekje, a kingdom in Korea, sent a gift to the Yamato court: a gleaming statue of the Buddha, along with sacred sutras and chanting monks. This was the official introduction of Buddhism, and it threw the court into turmoil. The powerful Soga clan, with its deep ties to the continent, saw Buddhism as a sophisticated tool of statecraft and a path to enlightenment. They championed the new faith. They were fiercely opposed by conservative clans like the Mononobe and Nakatomi, who saw the foreign faith as an insult to the native kami, the gods and spirits of Shinto. The conflict was political, spiritual, and bloody, culminating in battles that saw the Soga emerge victorious. The most pivotal figure in this transformation was not an emperor, but a regent: Prince Shotoku. A devout Buddhist and a brilliant statesman who took power in 593 CE, Shotoku envisioned a new kind of centralized state based on Chinese models. His “Seventeen-Article Constitution” of 604 was not a legal code, but a set of moral and political principles for government officials, emphasizing harmony, duty, and the supremacy of the sovereign. He sponsored the construction of magnificent temples, including Horyu-ji, whose wooden halls stand today as some of the oldest in the world, their graceful, curved roofs a testament to this new age of faith and architecture.

The seeds planted by Prince Shotoku came to full flower in the Nara period, from 710 to 794 CE. The old practice of moving the capital with the death of each emperor was abandoned. In 710, the court established Japan’s first permanent, grand capital city: Heijo-kyo, modern-day Nara. It was a metropolis unlike anything Japan had ever seen, a meticulously planned grid modeled on Chang'an, the glorious capital of Tang China. Wide avenues, a stately imperial palace, and government ministries gave it an air of imperial grandeur. But its heart was Buddhist. Temples dominated the city, none more so than Todai-ji, the “Great Eastern Temple.” Its construction was ordered by Emperor Shomu, a fervent Buddhist who sought to unify his nation, recently rocked by plagues and rebellions, under the protection of the Buddha. In 752, a grand “eye-opening” ceremony was held for its centerpiece: a colossal bronze statue of the seated Buddha, the Daibutsu, standing over 15 meters tall. Dignitaries from across Asia attended, witnessing the immense wealth and devotion of this new Japanese state. It was in this period that the court also commissioned Japan's first great literary works, the 'Kojiki' (Record of Ancient Matters) and 'Nihon Shoki' (Chronicles of Japan). These texts wove together myth, legend, and history to create an official narrative, tracing the imperial line back to the sun goddess Amaterasu and solidifying the divine right of the emperors to rule. In less than eight centuries, the people of these islands had journeyed from the deep quiet of the Jomon forests to a bustling imperial capital, home to a court that read Chinese poetry, a government that collected taxes, and monks who chanted sutras before a giant bronze Buddha. The foundations of classical Japan were now firmly laid.