Chapter 9 suggests how Hinduism and Confucianism may be understood in relation to the construct of transcendentalism in order to set up a discussion of India and China in the final chapter. (Unearthly Powers had largely taken Christianity, Islam and Buddhism as the main examples of transcendentalist traditions.) This involves a consideration of distinct forms that the Axial Age took in both regions and the religious and philosophical traditions that emerged from them. The diverse traditions coming under the umbrellas of Hinduism and Confucianism represent very substantial continuity with the immanentist pre-Axial past, especially in a fundamental emphasis on the role of ritual action. However, they also incorporated Axial elements, particularly an emphasis on liberation/salvation in the case of Hinduism and ethical rectitude in the case of Confucianism. Confucianism remains the most awkward fit within the mould of transcendentalism because of the absence of a soteriological imperative.

Chapter 8 explains why the most powerful chiefs in Hawaii decided to be baptised a few years after dispensing with their old cult. The most important of these factors revolved around immanent power: The ability of the new god to deliver victory in battle in the immediate aftermath of the abolition, and to Christian forces at the battle of Waimea in 1824, made a great impression, while healing was, as always, also a matter of concern. The impotence of the old gods was confirmed by deliberate challenges to the volcano goddess Pele and the female prophets who spoke for her and by the iconoclastic tours of Ka‘ahumanu, who was now taking centre stage. Meanwhile, the high chiefs also felt the need to repair the sacral basis to their authority, if now in a more righteous mode, while the strict form of Protestantism provided a way of ‘restoring the tabus’, disciplining both their subjects and the Euro-American inhabitants of Honolulu.

Chapter 5 turns to attempts by French missionaries and envoys to convert the ruler of the most powerful state in Southeast Asia, King Narai of Ayutthaya, in the 1680s. It first lays out the setting into which these proselytisers arrived, playing particularly close attention to the elevation of the king in both divinised and righteous modes and his relationship with the sangha. It then shows how the commercial and administrative functioning of the kingdom pulled in sources of outside strength, which promoted the relevance of religious diplomacy. In the 1680s, a Greek adventurer, Constantine Phaulkon, became the most powerful officer at court, and he fashioned an image to the French of a ruler ripe for conversion, giving rise to a series of embassies received in Versailles and Ayutthaya. The French sought to enhance their prestige through the use of astronomical–astrological science and had a chance at a healing miracle in the 1660s. If this failed the French could take comfort from the fact that Narai was somewhat restless within his ceremonialised role, had tense relations with the Buddhist monkhood, was a cosmopolitan attracted to French culture, and was concerned to maintain the good will of Louis XIV. Some even portrayed him (mistakenly) as moving towards deism.

Chapter 10 begins by summarising the conclusions from the case studies in terms of the model of ruler conversion, but its main aim is to adopt a global perspective on ruler conversions and on conversion more generally at times. It first underscores how vanishingly rare ruler conversions between Islam and Christianity are in the historical record and yet how open to monotheism immanentist regions, such as the Pacific and, to a lesser extent, Africa have been. Some scholars have already noticed the resilience of Buddhist, Hindu and Confucian societies to the proselytising drives of Christianity and Islam. The chapter summarises why this makes sense in terms of the mechanism of transcendentalist intransigence. It then offers a brief overview of how this affected Eurasian history by reference to the Ottoman, Mughal, Manchu and Mongol empires. The second half of the chapter offers a more detailed appraisal of the fortunes of Christianity and Islam in attempting to secure ruler conversions in South Asia, East Asia and both maritime and mainland Southeast Asia. Even though missionaries developed some of their most sophisticated strategies in these regions, the result was largely a failure. The conclusion to the chapter, and the book, reflects on the role of culture and the question of scale in historical analysis.

Chapter 3 analyses why three warlords in the southern island of Kyushu in Japan converted to Christianity in the 1560s–1580s: Ōmura Sumitada, Arima Yoshisada and, most importantly, Ōtomo Yoshishige (or Sōrin) of Bungo. It begins by describing the complex religious scene and its relationship to political authority in the ‘warring states’ era of the sixteenth century. Religious diplomacy mattered more in Japan than anywhere else, given the association between access to Portuguese trade and receptivity towards the Jesuit mission. Most of the chapter, however, is spent on describing the way that immanent power mattered to these daimyo, plunged into existential competition with rivals. The attraction of appealing to a new source of supernatural assistance in battle or in possession and healing crises is shown in a detailed narrative of the conversion of elite families of Bungo generally and of Ōtomo Sōrin and his son Yoshimune in particular. However, the tumultuous context also meant that questions of loyalty, sacral authority and societal order were also on warlord minds when they pondered questions of religious allegiance.

Chapter 2 tells the story of the conversion of the kings of Kongo. Nzinka a Nkuwu (King João) was baptised in 1491 but later apostatised and was succeeded by his son, King Afonso, who established an enduring Catholic dynasty in west central Africa. After acknowledging the significance of religious diplomacy, the chapter shows how the realm of immanent power was the most critical factor in the Kongo case. A close reading of the evidence indicates that the Portuguese or their ruler may have been considered to have a special association with the realm of the ancestors, while baptism was received as an initiation granting unusual powers, particularly in battle. This helps explain King João’s apostasy and is most apparent in the miraculous interpretation of the military victory that brought Afonso to the throne in 1506. However, it is also argued that conversion may have helped Afonso solidify his control of the religious field, as expressed in the iconoclastic sweeps that happened at several points in 1480–1530. The theme of cultural appeal is illustrated by a more general importation of the Portuguese culture by elites. Afonso is presented as a visionary with ambitions for societal recreation.

Chapter 4 explains why Christianity did not become the faith of more than a small minority of warlords and why it was rejected and ultimately persecuted by the rulers who unified Japan in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. The plural religious scene – including competing sects of Buddhism, alongside Confucianism and Shinto – afforded an intellectual opening for Christianity. This mattered in particular to the conversion of certain elites in the Gokinai of the 1560s. However, the most emotional debates centred on the dynamics of immanent power noted in the last chapter, and here Buddhism, as a transcendentalist system, found ways of countering the force of Christian arguments. Indeed, on an institutional level, too, the sangha represented a formidable enemy for daimyo contemplating conversion. This chapter then proceeds to analyse the actions, diplomatic letters and anti-Christian edicts of Hideyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyasu in order to identify the terms by which Christianity was identified as a subversive and unnecessary force. The transcendental elements of Japanese religion therefore played a decisive role in constraining the reach of the Japanese Christian movement. Lastly, the unifiers were intent on sacralising their authority, particularly post-mortem, and Christianity had little to offer in this regard.

The case of Hawaii is unusual insofar as the collapse of the state religion in 1819 may be distinguished from the conversion of ruling figures in 1825. It therefore offers a striking illumination of certain vulnerabilities of immanentism. Chapter 7 shows how contact with the wider world following the arrival of Captain Cook had generated various internal tensions that were finally expressed in Liholiho’s order to sweep away the old cult. His father Kamehameha had brought the Hawaiian archipelago under central authority for the first time but also promoted the rise of a group of ali‘i (nobles) around his wife Ka‘ahumanu. Female chiefs in Hawaii could acquire great status and power but were denied participation in the rites of sacrifice that preserved male paramountcy This system was destroyed when Liholiho ate with Ka‘ahumanu in 1819, thereby breaking the eating tabu. This was enabled by the way in which contact with outsiders had eroded the credibility of the tabu (kapu) system and the deities who enforced it. In particular, they seemed powerless against the new diseases. The role of local priests in facilitating rather than obstructing the conversion of chiefs and problems afflicting the manipulation of heroic and cosmic forms of divinised kingship, especially as a warrior society found peace, are also analysed.