The fox and Inari

The fox and Inari have such a strong connection that few people in Japan think about one without thinking about the other. Many tales and theories exist to explain this connection, many of them centuries old.

Inari’s head shrine is the Fushimi Inari Taisha on Mt. Inari in Kyoto. Within the Fushimi grounds, two of the most popular shrines are the Byakko-sha , the “white fox shrine” , and the Myobu-sha, the “court lady shrine.”It is not surprising, then, that many of the stories of the origins of the fox’s association with Inari are centred around this shrine.

One popular set of stories deal with the reason why the fox became known as Myobu. Myobu was the name of a fox deity on Mt. Inari, but was also the name given to ladies of the court in imperial times, and stories of their association offer several suggestions as to the connection between Inari and the fox. Matsumae recounts three different versions of the tale.

The first story comes from the mid-Edo period, and says that the Gosango Emperor visited the Fushimi Inari shrine during the spring of 1071, and awarded an old fox the title Myobu. One of the shrines here was the shrine of a female deity, and so the fox was awarded the title of the court ladies in light of this.

According to another story, this one from the records of the Toji school in the mid to late Kamakura period, a lady of the imperial court who followed the Inari faith would frequently make pilgrimage to Fushimi. As she grew older she became unable to climb to the highest peak of Mt. Inari, and so asked a tamed fox to make the pilgrimage to the third peak for her, promising to bestow her title upon the fox if it did so. The fox made the pilgrimage every day, and so received her title.

The final story tells of a lady of the court who followed the Inari religion faithfully, and believed in a spirit fox known as Akomachi. Due to her faith, she was able to receive the favour of a high-ranking lord, and became one of his wives. One of her daughters became the wife of the Emperor, and her sons all received high positions within the court. Because of this, she awarded the fox the title of Myobu.

These stories are clearly not the source of Inari’s connection to the fox in themselves, but what they do represent is the support of the imperial classes for the Inari religion and the worship of the fox. Though they shed little light on where the fox connection came from, they do suggest a possible reason for the fox’s success as a lasting icon of religion in Japan.

The spirit of the rice

The fox’s role as the messenger of Inari, and its early associations with the spirit of rice are often alluded to. This association with rice and agriculture is not exclusive to Japan. Since the earliest of times, the fox has been associated with the spirit of rice or, where rice was not typically grown, the spirit of grain. In fact, it would seem to be the case that the fox was originally worshipped in Japan as the deity of rice itself. As I have previously mentioned, the fox was also worshipped by farmers in China, in its role as one of the four sacred animals, as a god of wealth and prosperity. Wealth and rice have always had a close relationship in the cultures of Japan and China, and indeed, Inari is nowadays worshipped more as a god of material wealth than a god of agriculture.

Even in Europe, particularly France and Germany, the corn spirit was believed to have the shape of the fox. While the fox never achieved the same kind of status in Europe as it did in East Asia, it seems that the fox as a symbol for agriculture is not culture-dependant.

The root of this association has been commented on by many. The fox was often seen in the rice fields, and farmers, upon observing this, came to believe that the foxes were inspecting the crop, or protecting it from mice and other harmful influences.
It seems only a small step from this to the fox’s later role as the messenger of Inari, and many scholars understandably come to the conclusion that this is the sole root of the associations. Certainly, it has a lot to do with the associations, but, as Smyers points out, why was it that this association was only taken up by Inari, when Inari was far from the only rice deity in the Japanese pantheon?

 

Word association

Popular among Japanese theorists is the play-on-words theory. The god Inari was not one but many deities that came under the name Inari. One of these rice deities was known as miketsu no kami, written as ???? and meaning “honourable food deity”. This pronunciation was often taken to mean “three foxes deity”, however, written ????. A similar association is given by Yamagake, who says that originally, kitsune was pronounced ketsune, and that the fox’s associations with the food deity came from this ke.
Gorai Shigeru, quoted by Omori Keiko, goes one step further, suggesting that a relationship can be seen between the word for fox, kitsune (?) (which, in some dialects, was pronounced ketsune ) and the term ketsu (no) ne (??) which translates to “root of food”, suggesting the fox’s role as the spirit of food. This second piece of wordplay does not associate the fox with a food deity, however, but rather suggests why the fox was perceived as a food deity before the Inari connection.

It is unlikely that the word associations themselves formed the association between the fox and the rice deity, but it is possible that it gave some added weight to the associations.

Ties between Inari and esoteric Buddhism

The traditional story of the origin of the connection between foxes and Inari actually comes from a Buddhist text, believed to have been written in 1332. The story goes as follows:

In olden days, at Funaoka Mountain to the north of the capital, lived a pair of old foxes. The husband had white fur on his body like rows of silver needles and the tip of his tail glowed and looked like a five-pronged vajra [Buddhist ritual implement]. The wife had the head of a deer and the body of a fox, and led five cubs, each of a different appearance. Around the year 816, the two foxes and their five cubs went to Inari Mountain and all knelt in front of the shrine and prayed fervently to the kami: “Although we have the bodies of brute animals, we are naturally endowed with wisdom. We sincerely wish to protect the world but this wish is difficult to achieve in these bodies. We respectfully ask to become the sacred assistants of this shrine from this day forth.”
When the deity granted this prayer there was suddenly a stirring from the altar and Inari spoke: “I have skillfully manifested various forms, employing expedient means to teach and benefit sentient beings. Your original vow is also mysterious. From this moment onward, you will be the attendants of this shrine, compassionately assisting worshippers and devotees. The husband fox shall serve in the upper shrine and shall be called Osusuki; the wife fox shall be in the lower shrine and shall be called Akomachi.”
In accordance with this, they made ten vows. They grant peoples’desires, so people who believe in this shrine see them in dreams as oracular foxes.

This tale, although obviously not a true story, does give a few suggestions as to the origin of the Inari fox. Being a story from a Buddhist source, it suggests a Buddhist origin for the link. The Dagini sect of esoteric Buddhism had strong links to both Inari and the fox, and it has been suggested that the links were in fact a strategic political tie between Fushimi Inari and Toji temple.
It is not clear which of the two schools first had associations with foxes, but they later became tied so closely that Dagini is depicted as riding a white fox, and is even now worshipped as an Inari deity, particularly in the Toyokawa Inari shrine. Whether Dagini formed its associations with the fox prior to Inari, or built upon them after the initial Inari connection, it seems likely that the fox association was a purposeful move by the Dagini sect to bring in more followers from amongst the people.

Gorai suggests the associations came from magicians similar to the kitsune-tsukai using the techniques of Dagini magic in their magic. According to Gorai, many practitioners such as Yamabushi (??) would capture the power of foxes, and use these powers for purposes of divination. This kind of magic was Dagini magic.

It seems more likely that the Dagini sect altered its techniques, or perhaps emphasised certain techniques similar to those of the folk practitioners, in order to attract more followers. The fox, perhaps the strongest and most popular image of magic among the folk practices, was ideal for these purposes.

It also seems likely that Fushimi followed a similar strategy, adopting the fox, a popular icon of worship, into an organised religion that sought followers. If this was the case, the fact that there already existed an association between the fox and a more general rice deity surely also worked in Inari’s favour.

 

The Fox and Daoism

The Chinese fox, while it did have associations with the Daoist system, certainly did not become an icon of that system. Furthermore, though the fox may have had Daoist associations, Daoism was most definitely not associated with foxes. The Dao Nai Nai had associations with Chinese esoteric Buddhism, Matsumae claims, though he does not explain what those connections were. We can presume that these connections were akin to those between Dagini and the Yamabushi, but as there has been little documented about these practitioners, we must assume that there was not a major connection.

Certain aspects of the Chinese fox belief clearly has Daoist origins. The dualistic nature of foxes in China was highlighted by the different methods used by each type to advance its powers. The good fox was believed to advance in power via Daoist methods of spiritual advancement. This was a feature particular to the Chinese fox, and did not extend to Japan. Jameson describes this process as “The study of the classics” , which is an extremely difficult process. This explanation, possibly due to difficulties in translation, is somewhat misleading, as the process does not so much involve sitting down and reading books, but following the Way, or Dao.

Li describes the self-advancement of the fox as “the refinement of the soul-substance”. The fox spits out its soul substance, and consumes it again repeatedly. It will also be rewarded for virtuous behaviour. This seems to be a Daoist notion that has found its way into the folk beliefs of the rural Chinese people. There seem to be no easy divisions between folk religion and mainstream religion in China, much as Buddhism and Daoism have no clear division.

Li also provides us with a lot more information dealing with the fox’s relationship with Daoism and Buddhism, and possibly helps to explain why the fox remained a folk deity in China. For example, the shrine used in the xiang tou’s practices contains images of Buddhist and Daoist deites.

According to Li’s hierarchy, which would seem to comply with the traditional Chinese hierarchy, the Buddhist deities (fo, ?) are the highest and most powerful deities. Though the Buddhist deities are given acknowledgement in the rituals, they are not the spirits invoked. This is because, as Li says, the Buddhist deities rarely descend to intervene in earthly affairs, and thus yield the least results. The gods (shen, ?) , are somewhat more efficient, but not as much as the animal spirits.

It is for this reason, Li says, that the rural people favour the animal spirits to the shen and fo. They are looking for a practical deity that will help them with their earthly needs. The only temples that are popular are those whose god has a proven track record.
What this says is that mainstream religion in China did not offer what those involved in the four animals cult sought. As we do not know how widespread the animal spirit practices were, it may simply be that those involved were not numerous enough for mainstream religion to address this. Or, if the animal practices were wider than we are led to believe, perhaps it simply shows that the two systems were on different paths, and the Daoist leaders had no need to increase their followers by engineering new associations. The nature of the religious environment, which we shall shortly address, suggests that this may well be the case.

The religious environments of Japan and China

We have looked at the possible reasons behind the religious association of Inari, Dagini and the fox, and we have looked at the relationship between the Chinese animal cult and mainstream Chinese religion. The final thing to answer here is: was the religious environment behind the circumstances partly responsible for things happening the way they did, or would things have happened the same way if circumstances had been different? My own thoughts lean towards the former.

As is the case with most countries, Japan and China had shamanistic roots, where a worship of nature and animal spirits played an important role. As I have shown in Chapter 1 through the Ainu and Siberian examples, it was in this kind of environment that the importance of the fox first emerged. The major indigenous religions of the two countries seem also to have stemmed from the shamanistic background.

The shamanistic background of Shinto is easy to see. The essence of Shinto is the worship of nature and the belief that kami reside in all things. Therefore, Shinto is best described by a description of the kami that are worshipped under Shinto. A beautiful definition was given by the scholar Motori Norinaga:

The word kami refers, in the most general sense, to all divine beings of heaven and earth that appear in the classics. More particularly, the kami are the spirits that abide in and are worshipped at the shrines. In principle human beings, birds, animals, trees, plants, mountains, oceans – all may be kami. According to ancient usage, whatever seemed strikingly impressive, possessed the quality of excellence, or inspired a feeling of awe was called kami.

To go strictly by this definition of Shinto, however, would be to define most religious and folk practices of the Japanese people as Shinto. More typically, Shinto is used to refer to a kind of organised worship of certain deified kami, based around the shrine. In this respect it can be seen as a more organised extension of the original shamanism practiced throughout Japan.

In the same light, the worship of the fox as Inari may be seen as an extension of early shamanic fox practices. Indeed, Ueda Akinari, quoted by Susanna Fessler, said that the kami and animal spirits were more or less the same thing, having the same characteristics. In this respect it is perhaps understandable that the fox, when given the chance, became adopted so easily into the Inari religion.

Daoism can also be seen as an extension of a shamanistic past, at least in terms of its initial development. According to Daoist creation myths, all things started off as one. The universe was created when this one began to split and divide, becoming many things. Yet all things are of the same original essence.

However, despite its notions of everything being one, Daoism took a rather different form. It is commonly used to refer to a religious movement that formed in the second century C.E.. Once such movement was the Way of the Celestial Masters, which emphasised the notion of advancing oneself on the spiritual ladder towards immortality. This notion, extended to spirit animals, can be seen in some of the folk beliefs regarding the fox’s spiritual advancement, as I have previously mentioned.

Moreover, Daoists did their best to separate themselves from folk practices whenever possible, even when the practices bore much in common. The Daoists would emphasise heriditary offices, complex rituals, and use of classical Chinese language in order to elevate their own system and avoid associations with the lay practitioners who used ordinary language, and could not control themselves when possessed by spirits.

Clearly, while Daoism might have been happy to categorise the lay beliefs, it was a system that strove towards education, culture and civilisation, and clearly would not adopt folk systems into its ranks.

This evidence alone may suggest that the fox could never possibly reach such an elavated position in China, with such a system as Daoism in place. But there is one other difference between the two religious environments that assured this could never happen: the fox was never needed as a religious icon in China.

As I have explained, it seems likely that the fox was used purposely in Japan by the Inari and Dagini religions in order to increase followers. The ties between the two sects, and most likely the associations with the fox, came at a time when Japanese religion was highly sectionalised and politicised. Each of the sects was vying for popularity and favour with the imperial court. Higo, quoted by Smyers, suggests that Toji temple, allying with Inari, gained the popular support that came with the Inari following, whereas Inari, in return, gained the support of the imperial court, and thus increased popularity. Higo furthers this speculation by suggesting that the fox was taken up as a counterpoint to the sacred monkey of Mt. Hiei, associated with the Tendai sect, a rival of Toji’s Shingon Buddhism. The fox, for the many reasons I have explained above, was the natural choice here. Without this politicised atmosphere, the fox would have remained a part of folk practices, as it did in China, but it would not have had an opportunity, nor a reason, to become associated with a mainstream sect.

China, on the other hand, never saw the same kind of religious politicisation as did Japan. Though it seems unlikely that the same kind of circumstances that surrounded the development of Inari and the fox would ever have developed, it is not unreasonable to assume that, given a more sectarian setting, the religious groups of China may have given some attention to consciously integrating their practices with existing folk practices, and we might have seen a comparable, if not identical phenomenon. This, however, is impossible to determine.

Dualism and religion

The influence of religion on fox practices brings some new ideas to mind regarding the fox’s dualism. The fox in Japan is seen as dualistic, yet the dualism exists almost entirely along the division of the fox as Inari’s messenger and the fox as a folk tradition. Whereas the fox of Inari is considered to be overwhelmingly good, the fox of folk practices is seen in a very negative light. It seems highly unlikely that the Japanese fox was entirely negative before the Inari association; if that was the case, then Inari would shun rather than embrace the fox imagery. Furthermore, our evidence of the fox as a rice spirit, and the early dualistic nature of the fox in Ainu and Siberian culture further suggest that the dualistic nature has always been there. Therefore, it seems that the good aspects of the fox have almost entirely been taken up by the Inari cult, and the only things not associated with Inari are the more negative practices that Inari wants nothing to do with. Alternatively, these practices came to be seen as negative because they were folk practices that had no connection to a deity.

Another kind of division seems to have developed in China. In Chinese tradition, based on the folktales, the fox was depicted as overwhelmingly bad. Yet this does not correspond with the folk traditions that did exist around the fox. It seems likely that the literate classes, looking down on superstitious folk practices, chose to ignore the good side of the fox, and painted it in an entirely bad light, though perhaps not in a conscious effort.

Here too we see a reason for the fox’s success as a deity in Japan: the Japanese fox was supported by the literate classes, whereas the Chinese fox was not.