Budo The Martial Way A personal interpretation of the Japanese martial arts by Ernest F. Lissabet

Attention Visitor: The right-click feature of your mouse has been disabled on this page of my web site only. Inter-links within this page are provided for ease of navigation. Please regard the images on this page as copyrighted and not to be downloaded without written consent. Please direct any questions about this to me at corvus66@hotmail.com.


TABLE OF CONTENTS

Beginnings… Budo and Balance… Budo and Specialization… Form vs Realism… About Kendo & Iaido, Part I… Kendo and Kumdo… Thoughts on Kyudo... Thoughts on Naginata… Concerning Isshu-jiai... Batto-do: Kendo and Iaido, Part II Federations, Politics, & Promotions… Conclusions

Sensei Arrigato Gozaimashita! My primary Teachers in Budo, listed in chronological order: Dr. William "Bill" Dvorine, Yon-Dan Kendo and Iaido, Founder of the Washington Kendo Club, father of Kendo in the mid-Atlantic region of the United States, and a Director of the Greater Northeastern U.S. Kendo Federation; Dr. Donald "Don" Seto, Yon-Dan Kendo, Founder of the old Northern Virginia Kendo Club at George Mason University, and a Director of both the Northern Virginia Budokai and Greater Northeastern U.S. Kendo Federation; Ms. Fran Vall, Yon-Dan Naginata and Go-Dan Judo, Founder of the East Coast Naginata Federation, and a Director of the Northern Virginia Budokai; Mr. Gregory "Greg" Huff, Roku-Dan Renshi Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu Iaido, Ni-Dan Karate, and Founder of the Northern Virginia Eishinkai; Mr. William "Bill" Reid, Yon-Dan Kyudo, Founder of the Northern Virginia Kyudokai, and a Director of the Northern Virginia Budokai; Mr. David "Dave" Drawdy, Ni-Dan Batto-do, Command Sergeant Major, U.S. Army (Ret.), a Director of the Northern Virginia Budokai, and chief Batto-do Instructor of the Budokai by permission of Guy Power Sensei, Roku-Dan Renshi & designated "Kaicho" (Administrator) of the Nakamura Ryu in the United States. "Honorable Mention" Three more Sensei who I have trained with more than a week, whose instruction has influenced my Budo development: Mr. Shozo Kato, Nana-Dan Kyoshi in both Kendo and Iaido, President of the Shidogakuin Kendo Clubs in Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Washington DC, and Miami Florida; former Coach of the U.S. National Kendo Team; and a Director of the Greater Northeastern U.S. Kendo Federation. Mr. Dan DeProspero, Roku-Dan Renshi, Founder of the Meishin Kyudojo in North Carolina; Co-Author (with Hideharu Onuma Sensei) of Kyudo: The Essence and Practice of Japanese Archery; and President of the American Kyudo Renmei; Mr. Maruyama Chikao, Ju-Dan Hanshi Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu Iaido, Founder of the Eishinkan Dojo in Saga City, Japan; President of the Zen Kyushu Iaido Renmei; and third-ranking Iaidoka of the Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu.

---

   Beginnings...

I should begin with a disclaimer: I am not an expert in Japanese martial arts, nor am I a fluent speaker of Nihongo. I have visited Japan only once, for ten days of Iaido training. Therefore, the opinions expressed on this web page reflect my own prejudices, experiences and opinions concerning Budo in general, and the martial ways I write about here, in particular. You can find dissenting points of view with little trouble, some of them from people with vastly more experience in Japanese arts and culture than I possess. I am, however, an honest observer and reporter, and the following essays reflect a sincere attempt on my part to fairly and accurately convey the impressions I have developed of these arts in the years that I have been studying them.

I should therefore set forth my "credentials," such as they are, to report on these arts. At this time I hold Dan rank in three Japanese martial arts, and Mudansha rank in two others:

Kendo, "The Way of the Sword" or Japanese fencing (Gekken), in which I am a "Ni-dan" or second degree "black belt." Zen Nihon Kendo Renmei, and All United States Kendo Federation.

Iaido, the art of swordsmanship, in which I am a Sho-dan in the "Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu" style of swordsmanship, or "Peerless Direct Transmission True Faith School." This style of swordsmanship is one of the "Koryu" or "old forms," and has a 450 year old lineage. I am also studying Nakamura Ryu Batto-do, a military form of Iaido in which Tameshigiri (cutting practice) is integral to the curriculum.

Naginata, the "reaping sword," the modern art of pole-arm fencing based on "the curved spear" of the Japanese middle ages, in which I am a Sho-dan through the Zen Nihon Naginata Renmei, and a member of the United States Naginata Federation.

I am also a Sho-Dan in Kyudo, the art of Japanese archery. The certificate illustrated here is for Mudansha rank, as I've not yet scanned my Sho-Dan certificate. The photo at left is also of me shooting at an early stage of my Kyudo training... I hope my current form is a bit more accomplished than this. Of all the forms of Budo I study, Kyudo is without question the most elegant and beautiful.

It is fair to characterize my Budo experience as wide but not deep. All of the North American based Federations whose arts I study, are the properly Japanese- sanctioned governing bodies of their arts in the U.S.

Back to Top


   Budo and Balance…

My personal interpretation of Budo is based on the principles of balance and versatility. I know that does not sound very radical, but it always surprises me how often Budoka will pay lip service to the concept of balance, but then resist it when confronted with what it takes to actually implement that idea in their training. I don't know if this is how Budo is perceived among Japanese people themselves, but as I have now been at this over seven years, I've developed certain ideas about these matters, based on things I have experienced and observed. Perhaps as I continue to develop as a martial artist, I may change my opinions. Change is OK- show me someone who never changes, and I'll show you someone who is brain-dead.

As I see it, there are three "balance points" in the practice of Japanese martial arts, which characterize almost all of the disputes I've ever heard or read about in Budo. These three "balance points" are:

Specialization vs. Versatility

Form vs. Realism

Utility vs. Spirituality

"Specialization vs. Versatility" refers to the fact that the prevailing ethos of Budo is for students to study a single form deeply (specialization). Because (in my opinion) this conflicts with the utilitarian/realistic need for warriors to exhibit versatility in the use of their weapons, I advocate attempting to strike a balance between specialization in a single form, and the attainment of a broad-based knowledge of other forms of Budo.

"Form vs. Realism" refers to the conflict inherent in Budo, between the "Bu" (martial aspects of the art, hence realism), and the "Do" (philosophical or metaphysical aspects of the art, hence the common emphasis on form). All forms of Budo possess these two components, but not necessarily in equal measure. In some, the "Do" outweighs the "Bu", and in others, the other way around. Striking a perfect balance between them is quite difficult.

"Utility vs. Spirituality" refers to the utilitarian application of the art, versus the spiritual aspects of Budo. For example, Karate and Judo are highly utilitarian, in that they teach skills which conceivably might be useful if you get jumped in a dark alley. Conversely, Kyudo and Naginata are not very utilitarian from a practical point of view- if I get jumped, I can't ask the assailant to hold on while I knock an arrow to my bow, or break out my Naginata. Once again, I think the key here is understanding the divergence, and seeking the balance.

These are the themes which form the basis of these essays. Read on for specific examples of how these balance points inform my Budo philosophy, and affect the way I engage in the practice and study of Budo.


Back to Top


   Budo and Specialization…

In Japan, "the Martial Way" has evolved into a collection of highly specialized arts, associated with medieval weaponry and various open-hand styles. In modern Budo, the ideal is for the practitioner to penetrate their art past the outer form ("omote") by means of constant repetition, into the core of the teaching ("ura"), where deep understanding occurs. It is a time-honored and successful way of transmitting the martial arts.

However, once upon a time, such was not the case. In the age when Japan was at war with itself, the attainment of a deep specialization in a single weapon or form, was a luxury that few fighting men could afford. In war, ignorance can mean death and defeat, and so the warriors of that age (other than the peasant Ashigaru conscripts), trained with the wide range of weapons at their disposal. As a practical matter, this meant archery, swordsmanship, and pole-arms.

It is interesting to note that the martial arts of China have not attained the same degree of specialization that the Japanese martial ways have. In Kung-Fu, for example, the beginning is in open-hand techniques; but as the student progresses, various weapons are introduced into the curriculum, especially swords and pole-arms, with the objective being competence with any weapon.

We can also see the trend towards versatility in the modern revival movement among western Medievalists to recover the weapons arts of Europe. Extensive research and padded weapons sparring has reinforced the importance of versatility and cross-training with different weapons, as inherently more evocative of the demands placed on a warrior.

Why then did the Japanese martial ways, become so specialized and fragmented? Why are there so few "total weapons systems" in contemporary Japanese martial arts?

The traditional unit of martial instruction in Japanese history has been the "Ryu" or style-school, headed by a "Soke" or "Iemoto" (family head), and hierarchically defined according to rank. At one time (during the Sengoku Jidai, for example), many of the Ryuha actually did take a "total weapons system" approach to the task of martial instruction; but over time, there emerged a distinct tendency towards specialization around the three basic fighting arts: archery, swordsmanship, and pole-arms. Archery and swordsmanship became "Samurai" arts, and expertise with pole-arms became a specialty of the "Ashigaru" or foot-soldiers, the "Sohei" or warrior-monks, and later women. Today, about the only one of the traditional Ryuha which still maintains an all-inclusive martial curriculum, is the Katori Shinto Ryu. Almost all of the other Ryu have come to specialize in a single weapon or form.

"In the Sengoku period the most common term used by Bushi to describe their comprehensive fighting system was heiho, alternately read as hyoho, "military methods." Although some Ryuha emphasized a specific weapon, most still advocated a familiarity with other weapons in an inclusive heiho. Real specialization-- swordsmen who knew nothing of using the naginata, for example-- occurred only in the peaceful Tokugawa period."

Hurst, Armed Martial Arts of Japan: Swordsmanship and Archery

The process of specialization was accelerated during the Pax Tokugawa, or the 200 years of peace during the Tokugawa Bakufu (military government). In the absence of the hard demands of war, the "martial arts" ("Bujutsu," signifying fighting techniques), became "martial ways" ("Budo"), connoting a more philosophical approach to the subject. (Although this linguistic convention, first employed by the late Donn Draeger, is a simplification of a complex cultural process, it is a useful means of differencing the modern and medieval martial arts and their divergent objectives). Under the influence of both philosophical perspectives, as well as social and ceremonial ritual, the weapons became analogues for spiritual and metaphysical concepts, and the form of the art became more important than the original combative purpose.

The result was the various forms of Budo as we know them today. Considered as a family, they are a beautiful collection of fascinating arts; but it would be a mistake to imagine that any of the modern Budo actually teach real medieval fighting techniques. Rather, in the absence of the urgency of impending warfare, these arts are in most instances more concerned with form, as the prerequisite "omote" or outer shell, of the deeper understanding attained by penetrating the art past the point of simple muscle memory ("ura"). It is this philosophical framework which distinguishes a Budo ("Martial Way") approach to the martial arts, from the more combative Bujutsu ("Martial Art") approach.

I am not one of those people who are dismissive of Budo as totally unrealistic, or as somehow impure because they are "sporting." (Hurst says of those who are dismissive of martial sports: "...such a stance displays a basic misunderstanding of the history of sport and neglects the important connections between sport and religion, sport and art, and sport and ritual in many societies, not just in Japan.") I am a student of Budo, not Bujutsu. For me, the study of Budo is primarily an exercise in balance, between realism and form, utility and spirituality. Lets face it: in the twenty-first century, any study of medieval weaponry is unrealistic and anachronistic, even for professional soldiers. Because of this, the desire for authenticity must have sane limits, or it becomes insanely dangerous and bordering on the suicidal.

However, I also feel that any training which helps replicate a warrior's condition in the past, helps evoke a warrior spirit and is a valid expression of Budo. A spirit of versatility is part of this. Simply, I believe that the spirit of versatility which characterized the medieval warrior, has regrettably been lost as a consequence of the specialization of Budo. While it is difficult (impossible?) for modern people training in comfortable facilities to completely replicate that spirit, I do believe that the process of cross-training with the three principal weapons (archery, swordsmanship, pole-arms) does serve to help connect the Budoka with the spirit of versatility that once characterized the warriors of old, as well as deepening their understanding of concepts common to all forms of Budo ("Zanshin" or "lingering spirit," for example).

I am not against martial specialization; I am merely in favor of versatility as truer expression of Budo. For example, when a new recruit joins the army, is he (or she) trained only on one weapon? Clearly not- they receive training in a wide range of weapons they might conceivably be called on to use in battle. For instance, it makes no sense for a modern infantryman to become a splendid rifle marksman, but know nothing about machine-guns. That is the spirit of versatility. In my humble opinion, once a minimum level of competence is attained in the principal Budo weapons (Sho-Dan as a minimum, I think), then the process of specialization in a single weapon or form should commence; but not before. Such a person is now well-grounded and prepared to begin the process of penetrating to the ura of their chosen specialty.

However, I recognize the practical difficulties inherent in this philosophy, especially in the United States. For one thing, finding competent and qualified instructors in these arts is no easy task. I have been lucky enough to meet qualified (Federation-sanctioned) instructors in each of the forms I study; but I live near Washington DC, a major city. (And by "qualified," I mean that in an American sense: in America, San-Dan's and even Ni-Dan's get turned into teachers, something that seems not to happen in Japan below Go-Dan rank). Finding qualified instructors in Kyudo, Kendo, Iaido, and Naginata would be much more challenging if I lived in Peoria, for example. So much depends on where you live, and who lives near you.

Moreover, even if you find qualified instructors in each of these arts, finding the time to juggle the training schedules of each art will be exceedingly difficult, as I can personally attest to. Ideally, one would hope to be able to study these arts sequentially, i.e. one after another, twice a week at about two-year intervals. After perhaps eight years of Budo study, presumably one would be sufficiently well-grounded to narrow the focus to a single art or weapon. Clearly, the "path of versatility" requires patience. The problem arises when one must study more than one form simultaneously, as I have done. It is a challenge, to be sure-- learning more than one art at the same time requires tremendous focus. Clearly, for the modern person, attaining versatility in Budo lies in sequential study, rarely in simultaneous study. Unless you are independently wealthy and don't need to work for a living, or don't care about your spouse leaving you...

Because the prevailing Budo ethos is the deep exploration of a single form or weapon, few people are regarded as sufficiently talented to do more than one thing well. (The exceptions to this are the Katori Shinto Ryu, as previously noted; and also Ninpo, which trains for versatility, but which for various social, historical and cultural reasons is regarded as rather disreputable). While it is true that some people obviously lack the physical talent to study more than one art, I do believe that most people, given sufficient determination and a sequential approach to the study of Budo, should be able to attain a Sho-dan level of competence in these arts. The trick is to not try and do it all at the same time. However, no such training program seems now to exist anywhere; and due to the prevailing ethos, anyone who proposes to embark upon a program of Budo study emphasizing versatility, will probably not find any support among most instructors of the Budo arts. In most instances, the reluctance of Instructors to allow their students to study other forms is rooted in less-than-noble motives: ego, control, or profit, and only rarely in a genuine concern for the student's well-being or progress. At best they will merely tolerate students with other Budo interests, and at worst they will attempt to forbid it.

It is the spirit of versatility which has motivated the Northern Virginia Budokai, of which I am a founding member. By bringing together in one club qualified instructors in each of these rare arts, not only are the resources of each group pooled for the purposes of maintaining practice space, but an environment is created where, over a period of several years, a student may explore the spirit of versatility that is absent from modern Budo. For more information about the Northern Virginia Budokai, please visit the club web site at www.nvbudokai.com .

For me, this "versatile" interpretation of Budo makes a great deal of sense. Having spent the last several years exerting considerable time and effort to enact this ideal, I am now nearing the point where I can begin to consider where to focus my long-term martial energies. I have a sense of what appeals to me, what I'm good at, and what I'm merely competent in. From this, I will make an "informed decision" and proceed from there.

I encourage other martial artists to also strive to attain greater versatility in Budo. The journey has been fun and educational: "The Way is in Versatility."

Back to Top


   Form vs. Realism…

Another important issue in modern Budo is the question of form vs. realism. Let's face it: American's love martial arts that teach self-defense. Every strip mall in America seems to have a Tae Kwon Do studio in it, because that is what sells over here: Karate, Judo, Aikido, Tae Kwon Do, and Kung Fu-- the open-hand arts. Even fairly esoteric open-hand arts such as Tai Chi, are far more prevalent than equally esoteric weapons forms such as Kyudo. And the reason for this is simple: Americans love to purchase self-defense. There is very little self-defense value, for example, in ceremonial archery or even swordsmanship; but by studying one of the open-hand forms of Budo, depending on the quality of instruction, the customer can purchase the ability (or illusion) of being able to ward off vicious attacks by knife-wielding muggers. Further, there is a visceral quality about learning how to fight with a medieval weapon, which offends the peaceable nature of some people, who might otherwise study an open-hand form for self-defence. Finally, there is the cost involved: almost all of the weapons forms have specialized equipment needs that require considerable financial investment if the art is to be pursued seriously.

That is one definition of martial arts "utility": something that a customer can purchase and feel they have gained something useful- like what to do if I get jumped. None of the weapons forms can convey this practical sense of social utility, and that, coupled with scarce instructors and high cost for equipment, means that Judo, Karate, Tae Kwon Do and company, will remain the most prevalent forms of oriental martial arts in the United States, for a long time to come.

"In spite of the current popularity of unarmed forms, however, the origins of Japan's martial arts lie in deadly systems of combat employing a bewildering variety of weapons for dealing with an opponent. Unarmed fighting was to be relied on only when unavoidable."

Hurst, Armed Martial Arts of Japan: Swordsmanship and Archery

Historically, true Budo was not in the open-hand forms, but in the weapons forms. Open-hand techniques were something that was taught to warriors after they had well and truly embarked on a weapons-centric curriculum. There is a myth among many people, fed perhaps by decades of Hollywood martial arts movies and TV series like "Kung Fu," that somehow The Ultimate Warrior was a superbly qualified expert in open-hand fighting, like David Carradine disarming ugly and clumsy gun-toting bad guys across the American west. The reality, however, is that almost any edged weapon confers a fearsome advantage to its owner, against an unarmed person. A novice with a sword will cleave the Supreme Grand Master of All Open Hand Forms with a single stroke, if the Master makes even one small mistake. (A Ju-Dan Hanshi I once trained with-- a "10th Degree Black Belt Master Teacher," has a useful saying about this: "Even monkeys sometimes fall out of trees.") In a real fight with medieval weapons, you will only "fall out of the tree" once. Before the age of guns, warriors trained first with weapons, and later thought about the problems presented by having to fight without them. What this means, is that the warrior spirit primarily resides in weapons training, especially weapons training which at least attempts to approximate the diverse set of skills which these people were forced to master. I have written, "The Way is in Versatility," but it is also true that "The Way is in Weaponry."

However, because the ethos of modern Budo is characterized by attention to "correct" form (usually a carefully defined aesthetic ideal), there are clear instances where that ethos conflicts with the spirit of realism and utility. For example, there are many well-known instances of participants in Kendo or Naginata matches scoring brutally effective cuts on their opponents, cuts which had the weapons been real would have resulted in the fight abruptly ending; but because the exponent failed to show correct form, there is "no point," and the match continues. This situation at first seems incomprehensible: "If this was a real fight, he'd be dead!" the outraged exponent thinks to themselves. However, this is missing the point of Budo, which is not necessarily to 100% replicate reality (impossible!), but to enact an ideal form as a prerequisite for a deeper understanding of the martial way. In the greater Budo scheme of things, displaying correct form is more important than scoring the point.

For Americans, accustomed as we are to thinking in a goal-oriented way, this inherent conflict of form vs. realism can be quite frustrating. In Kyudo, for example ("The Way of the Bow"), there is tremendous ambiguity about actually hitting the target, especially at the lower levels. The main concern is, of course, displaying correct aesthetic form, from which consistently hitting the target will derive. The other side of the coin is hitting the target without proper form (a strictly utilitarian approach), which invariably brings on a detailed critique of form. It is not enough to merely hit the target- you must hit the target only when displaying the proper form. In Kyudo, you can hit the target over and over, and still be wrong. Once again, the question of form vs. realism is inherent in this situation, as it is in all forms of Budo.

Because all forms of Budo partake of the form vs. realism conflict, a Budo philosopher must examine the issue on both a macro level (societal), as well as a micro level (the conduct of training). On a macro level, we have seen how the utilitarian impulse is primarily conveyed in our society by the open-hand forms. On a micro level, however, whatever practicality the weapons forms of Budo can offer, resides in the realm of spiritual and character development. This is their chief utility to society at large.

But of course, too much of an emphasis on form over results also robs the warrior spirit from Budo trainig. I cannot help but feel that an over-emphasis on technical form is actively antithetical to the development of a warrior spirit. When cuts which would clearly be killing blows are not scored for failing to conform to the aesthetic specifications of an ideal form, then it is legitimate to wonder if a warrior spirit is genuinely present in the art. Balance is the key, and common sense is (or should be) the guide. Too much ugly utility, and both art and spiritual development are retarded; but place too much emphasis on form alone, and a warrior spirit is chased away. A true martial spiritual path should have both.

If you are only interested in fighting, go study a form of Bujutsu; and if you are only interested in spirituality, don't waste your time with weapons, go find a guru. But if you are serious about studying Budo, a true martial philosophy of life, then learn to live with the form vs. realism conflict, the Bu and the Do, and try to strike a balance in your studies.

Back to Top


   About Kendo and Iaido, Part I...

I love Kendo. Kendo is a blast, especially when it is performed well. Kendo is basically Japanese fencing, the art of employing a bamboo fencing sword to make full and vigorous cuts on an opponent in protective equipment. Kendo is loud and aggressive. Kendo is quite cardio-vascular and promotes fitness, good manners, self-discipline and self-confidence.

Kendo originated in the late Tokugawa era, when the use of the shinai (bamboo sword) and bogu (fencing armor) allowed the development of what was then simply known as shinai uchikomi keiko, or full-contact fencing:

"From the 1750's onward, practice involving the use of protective gear and shinai spread from Ryu to Ryu, attracting considerable attention, both positive and negative... On the one hand, conservatives argued that the bamboo sword bore little resemblance to a real blade... But supporters argued that the kata focus was even more unrealistic. By allowing opponents to attack each other fully, shinai uchikomi keiko was much more aggressive and realistic than kata practice."

Hurst, Armed Martial Arts of Japan: Swordsmanship and Archery

Following the Meiji Restoration and the abolition of the Samurai class, many ex-samurai became policemen, which they found preferable to entering the new Imperial Army, then dominated by men from the lower classes. Finding the practice of what was now known as Gekken to be quite useful in police work, the various metropolitan police departments soon became the chief exponents of shinai fencing, even seeking to have it incorporated into the national school physical education curriculum. Naturally, this develoment was deeply threatening to the Kenjutsu and Iaijutsu traditionalists, who were wed to a traditional, kata-based curriculum. Largely in response to these criticisms, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police added a kata component to the study of Gekken:

"The solution that (police) authorities adopted was to create a series of ten kata, selecting one each from the major ryuha represented by their instructors: Kyoshin meichi-ryu, Yagyu-ryu, Munen-ryu, Jigen-ryu, Hokushin itto-ryu, Hozan-ryu, Jikishin kage-ryu, Kurama-ryu, Risshin-ryu, and Asayama ichiden-ryu."

Hurst, Armed Martial Arts of Japan: Swordsmanship and Archery

Despite this concession to the traditionalists, however, the Kendo vs. Iaido debate continued, and to some extent persists to the present day. Even today, there seems to be two schools of thought about the usefulness of Kendo in the study of Japanese swordsmanship, depending on if you are primarily (or exclusively) a Kendoka or Iaidoka:

1) "Kendo is basic Japanese swordsmanship." This is the posture of most Kendoka, who (mostly) are smart enough to recognize that a shinai and a nihon-to feel and handle differently, but who also understand that Kendo is thoroughly imbued with the aggressive form and fighting spirit of Japanese swordsmanship, and also teaches certain basic principles of swordsmanship;

2) "Kendo is a sport and worthless as a form of swordsmanship." This is the position many Iaidoka take, who rightly point out the shortcomings of the shinai and the absence of the saya as limitations on the study of swordsmanship, and who dislike the competitive, tournament-driven culture of Kendo, which they dismiss as "mere sport."

Which point of view is right? Well, actually they both have a point. Kendo does have limitations, insofar as "realism" goes; but Kendo also teaches the kamae (stances), cuts and kata most appropriate for fencing. Kendo is also the most successful simulation of a swordfight that the Japanese have ever devised. That alone should compel the attention of any martial artist who is serious about studying Japanese swordsmanship. Add to that the fact that Kendo splendidly cultivates a fighting spirit within the context of Japanese swordsmanship, and I just don't understand how anyone serious about the study of Japanese swordsmanship, could not find the value in the study of Kendo.

On the other hand… the study of swordsmanship clearly must entail working with an actual blade and saya, and learning the proper handling and care of the nihon-to. Kendo without Iaido is simply bamboo stick fencing, even with the assiduous practice of the Kendo no kata with a bokken (wooden sword). I know some splendid Kendo fencers, who would be intimidated at the prospect of making an iai draw and cut, simply because they know that their draw would be awkward- Kendo does not teach saya-work. Further, in Iaido there are cuts that are simply illegal in Kendo- underhand cuts, for example, which in Kendo are not allowed (because the kote or mitten, is not padded underhand).

This limitation on the range of legal cuts in Kendo, renders certain traditional kamae useless in fencing- waki no kamae, for example, which is mostly comprehensible if an underhand cut is delivered, because the up-and-over men cut from waki deploys very slowly and is a sure way to get hit fast in fencing. (People who advocate fencing from such kamae, in my opinion fail to recognize that the rules of modern Kendo, simply render certain kamae non-productive, from the perspective of scoring points in shiai). Under the original circumstances of a swordfight- life or death- waki no kamae made sense in certain situations. In a modern fencing match, it simply does not.

The forms of the Kendo no Kata also serve to illuminate another issue in the dialogue between Kendo and Iaido: the difference between kata and waza. In Kendo, the ten kata forms illustrate certain principles of fencing: nuki-waza, harai-waza, suriagi-waza, and so forth. The perceptive Kendoka comes to understand that kata number one, for example, describes nuki-men, the second nuki-kote, and so forth, and takes the lessons from them and attempts to apply them to his (or her) fencing. When a kata is executed in keiko at full speed, it becomes a waza, or "technique." Thus, the kata serves to illustrate the waza.

In Iaido, however, typically the kata themselves are referred to as "waza." Because of the dangers of metal blade training, the dynamic interplay between opponents that is the main feature of Kendo (and even Kendo no Kata), is wholly absent from Iaido. Iaido is necessarily a solo practice, albeit under the guidance of a competent instructor; therefore, Iaido is fundamentally the study and practice of kata. You can learn waza from Iai-kata- suriotoshi-waza, for example- but in the absence of someone you can actually deliver the blow to (or whose cut you can deflect aside, i.e. suriotoshi, blade-on-blade), the transformation of the kata into "waza" is wholly dependant upon massive rote repetition of the kata, over and over, until it becomes second nature. That takes a really long time, and is simply not the most efficient way of learning Japanese swordsmanship. From my perspective, the process of understanding Iai-kata, is enhanced by a first-hand knowledge of fencing waza. Getting hit with a simulated cut has a way of focusing your attention and illustrating what you are doing wrong, something that is impossible to replicate in solitary Iai practice. You can't cut people in Iaido, for obvious reasons.

Still another consideration in the Kendo vs. Iaido debate, is the fact that because Iaido is essentially the art of the quick-draw and cut, most of the Iai-"waza" illustrate encounters that are over in 10 seconds or less. But, what would happen in a real clash between two armed swordsmen, if the fight lasted longer than 10 seconds? Answer: Kendo happens, or at least fencing. Once swords are out and the first cuts have failed, at that point the encounter becomes a fencing match, and the advantage goes to the better fencer. In a hypothetical sword-duel between a pure Kendoka and pure Iaidoka, the advantage is with the Iaidoka for about the first 10-15 seconds (maybe less), and then rapidly shifts to the Kendoka. This is how I see it.

By now my position in this debate is obvious: You need to study both Kendo and Iaido, to begin to understand the range of skills associated with Japanese swordsmanship. One is about forms, and the other is about fencing; but together they form the foundation for a well-rounded understanding of Japanese swordsmanship. As far as I am concerned, one without the other, is essentially a sub-specialization approach to the art of Japanese swordsmanship. The wise and serious student of the Nihon-to will study both, taking from each their particular gifts, while being cognizant of their respective limitations.

Happily, most Kendoka have long understood the limitations inherent in their art, and so the ten Iai-waza of the Kendo Renmei Seitei Gata were devised, to train Kendoka in some of the missing elements of swordsmanship. My own Iaido experience is in the Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu, so I can't really speak to the Seitei Gata, other than to observe that Seitei Iaido seems as valid to me, as the older Ryuha, such as the Eishin Ryu, or Muso Shinden Ryu. The main knock I've heard on the Seitei Gata, is that it is "Iaido by committee." My response is, "so what?" The ten Kendo no Kata were also constructed by a committee. From my perspective, they both teach useful things. The mere fact that the Kendo Renmei is awarding ranks in Iaido, is an obvious (unspoken) recognition of the limitations of Kendo.

On the other hand, the Iaido-only point of view seems mostly represented by the older Ryuha, such as the Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu, Muso Shinden Ryu, and the other styles affiliated with the Zen Nihon Iaido Renmei. Although I deeply respect the beauty of Iaido and the importance of Iaido in the study of Japanese swordsmanship, I simply do not agree that Iaido alone is sufficient for the study of Japanese swordsmanship, anymore than I think Kendo alone is sufficient.

I conclude this portion of the essay by re-stating what to me seems self-evident: Kendo and Iaido go hand in hand in the study of Japanese swordsmanship. Partisans of one camp or the other, who insist on the efficacy of their camp alone, seem to me like one-handed swordsmen. You can make a one-handed cut in both Kendo and Iaido, sometimes quite effectively; but everyone knows that by and large you get a better cut with both hands on the tsuka.

Back to Top


   Kendo and Kumdo...

Another interesting development in recent years is the emergence of "Kumdo" as an alternative to "Kendo." Essentially, "Kumdo" is the Korean variant of Kendo. Using almost all the same equipment and clothing, for all practical purposes Kendo and Kumdo are indistinguishable from each other… except to those who train in these arts, in which case the differences are quite noticeable.

First, origins: Kumdo enthusiasts want people to believe that their art is indigenous to Korea, but the plain truth is that it is not. Kumdo teachers have constructed an elaborate history for "Kumdo," interwoven with legends of real historical warriors (the "Hwa Rang" warriors of Korean history), thus rendering the appearance of practicing an art of purely Korean origins. However, as archaeological remains from Japan show,

"Although the earliest protoypes of the sword in Japan appear to have been curved, the flat, straight broadswords characteristic of China and the Korean peninsula was widely employed during the Tomb period (300-552)."

Hurst, Armed Martial Arts of Japan: Swordsmanship and Archery

Thus, both curved swords and Korean-style straight swords were employed in early Japan, but in ancient Korea and China the double-edged straight sword was dominant. Certainly it is a matter of historical record that the single-edged, curved-blade katana was developed in Japan and not Korea. Further, a close examination of the historical origins of Kendo protective equipment ("Bogu" in Japanese, "Hogu" in Korean), and the single-edged, two-handed style of swordsmanship that Kendo & Kumdo both replicate, clearly reveals the Japanese origins of the art. That the Koreans had their own sword traditions is not in doubt; what is in doubt is if modern "Kumdo" had its roots in those arts, or if it came from Japan, as was almost certainly the case.

There certainly seem to be issues related to national pride and the historical rivalry between Japan and Korea in this matter. It is a matter of recent historical record that the Japanese occupied Korea for almost 50 years during the first half of the twentieth century, during which time a great many Japanese martial arts traditions were acquired by Koreans, Kendo among them. After the war, for various reasons largely related to national pride, the Japanese origins of these arts was problematic for Koreans, and thus they were "Koreanized" and assumed Korean names. The historical revisionism that went into the formulation of "Kumdo" was part of this process.

Having said all that, what is certain is that the exponents of Kumdo are among the finest shinai fencers anywhere. At almost every Kendo World Championships, in which Kumdo exponents may participate, inevitably the final match features a Japanese champion against a Korean champion. So far, only Japanese exponents have won the World Kendo Championships, but sooner or later someone from another country will win it. When that finally happens, that person will very likely be a Korean.

There are also a number of important differences between Kendo and Kumdo. First is the emphasis: Kendo training s about swordsmanship (or is supposed to be), while Kumdo is transparently about shinai fencing, despite protestations to the contrary. Kumdo exponents may dispute this, but even low-ranked beginners can spot the stylistic differences between Kendoka and a Kumdo fencer with a little training. This stylistic difference may also surprise those people who regard Kendo as worthless for the study of swordsmanship; but essentially, Kumdo techniques are intensely focused on whippy point-scoring techniques in fencing competitions, where Kendo teachers are more sword-form oriented and concerned with "proper" (more realistic) ways of making a sword-cut, i.e. "oki-waza" (big techniques) and so forth. (Here is another example of the Kendo emphasis on swordsmanship: there are no kata drills in Kumdo). What all this means as a practical matter, is that in fencing tournaments the Kumdo exponents are highly effective, often conspicuously winning many of the divisions.

Another reason why the Kumdo fencers are successful in tournaments, is due to their superb level of physical conditioning. Although Kendo is excellent cardio-vascular exercise, most Kendo clubs cannot match the cardio-intensity of a typical Kumdo training workout. These people train very hard, no doubt about it; and the payoff (for them) is in excellent tournament endurance. (In Kumdo, a promotion examination is not just about skill and technique- it is fundamentally a grueling endurance test). The upshot is that only the most fit Kendoka can match their physical preparedness.

Still another difference between Kendo and Kumdo is the way the shinai is employed. I have noted the point-scoring emphasis of Kumdo. What this means as a practical matter is that their strikes are very fast and whippy, more so even than in Kendo. There are also some jumping cuts in Kumdo which are not found in Kendo- in Kendo, an exponents footwork moves horizontal to the ground, never vertically. However, the advantages are not all one-way- there are some advantages for the Kendoka too: for example, in Kumdo they almost never thrust to tsuki, (I have heard they don't even teach it), by which they can sometimes be caught unawares. They also seem not to be familiar with counters to a fencer fighting from Jodan no kamae.

On the balance, I give the Kumdo people low marks for historical accuracy; high marks for their wonderful fencing bility; and low marks for affordability. Like most Korean martial arts, many Kumdo schools are operated as a for-profit commercial business, and so there is the high expense typically associated with commercial martial arts schools. I can certify that the local Kumdo school in the Washington DC area, is far more expensive than any of the local Kendo clubs.

One result of the commercial aspects of Kumdo, is their extreme possessiveness over their members. Unlike in Kendo, where students are often encouraged to go train at other Dojo to acquire new opponents and more experience, in Kumdo students are clearly discouraged from seeking instruction and experience elsewhere. I very much dislike this attitude, and I think it is a by-product of the need to keep student revenue in-house. I don't have a problem with commercial martial arts (other than their expense), but a business that attempts to control its customer's choices, is behaving in a monopolistic way. I know (for example) that ex-Kumdo students that have joined the Northern Virginia Budokai, have received considerable flack and social pressure from their former mates to quit studying Kendo and rejoin the Kumdo fold, and that is arrogant and wrong. This is of course an indication of my own American social values, but I feel that people should enjoy freedom from subtle or overt social coercion. In fairness to the Kumdo movement, this kind of membership-control attitude is also sometimes evident among some schools of Kendo.

"As far as Kendo is concerned, if you always perform keiko at the same dojo with the same opponents, it is inevitable that your pitch of tension will eventually slacken and your keiko lose its freshness. When this happens, you can bring about an increased sense of tension and revitalize your keiko by going to another dojo, or even to a completely different region."

Hiroshi Ozawa, Kendo: The Definitive Guide

Kumdo is basically Kendo with important stylistic differences. I respect their fencing ability, but what drew me to Kendo was the study of Japanese swordsmanship, and that is what will keep me there. Like Iaido studied in isolation, Kumdo is basically a sub-specialization of swordsmanship. If you really just want to learn to fence well with the shinai, Kumdo is for you- assuming you can afford it. But if you are interested in the study of Japanese swordsmanship, or if you can't afford to shell out thousands of dollars a year, you are going to have to look elsewhere.

Back to Top


   Thoughts on Kyudo...

I will preface this section by again highlighting the fact that I am merely a Mudansha in Kyudo, and so will restrict my comments to those facts easily observable or already widely known about Kyudo.

Most people know that the art of swordsmanship was closely associated with the Samurai of old Japan. What is not so well known is the extent to which the art of archery was also considered a Samurai art. Before the emergence of the Cult of the Katana in the warrior class, the ideal of "Kyuba no michi" or the "Way of Horse and Bow" was the warrior ideal. Even in later times, after the introduction of guns to Japan and the gradual emergence of modern Kyudo, the art of archery was a gentleman's activity, a form of Budo with implicit class overtures. (This aristocratic tradition contrasts sharply with western archery, which originated among the lower classes and the yeomanry). As Hurst observed in his book, in medieval Japan a gentleman was often eager to keep his skill with a sword quiet, but was delighted if his skill as an archer became widely known. Kyudo was and still is considered classy; some people regard it as the pinnacle of all forms of Budo, the purest of them all.

Certainly of all the forms of Budo I have studied, Kyudo is easily the least utilitarian and the most overtly spiritual. The marked ambiguity towards hitting the target which I have commented on, is only one aspect of a pronounced emphasis on the "do" aspects in "Kyudo." An emphasis on proper posture, movement, breathing, shooting sequence, manners, and etiquette all also contribute to the decidedly un-martial, almost courtly feeling, of this antique form of Budo. In my humble opinion, for sheer grace and beauty, none of the other forms of Budo can match Kyudo, but even the newest Kyudoka quickly comes to understand that this is a "martial" art in name only.

"It is written, that the collision of iron and stone will release sudden sparks; and thus there is the golden body, shining white, and the half moon positioned in the west."

Junsei Yoshimi, Shaho-Kun: Principles of Shooting, Kyudo Manual, Volume I

To my way of thinking, it is the utter absence of martial pretence which makes the Kyudo emphasis on form, more acceptable than in other forms of Budo. In Iaido, for example, a particular "waza" or technique can seem utterly ridiculous if it teaches any method that is patently unrealistic, because in Iaido the emphasis on the "Bu" in "Budo," is clearly greater than it is in Kyudo. Conversely, in Kyudo the two shooting styles (Bushakei or "warrior style," and "Reishakei" or "ceremonial style"), are both highly stylized forms of archery, with little resemblance to the actions of a battlefield archer trying to loose off as many arrows as he can, before set upon by the enemy. In Kyudo, about the only martial aspect that I can detect, is in the fact that the yumi was once a weapon of war.

Thus, I think it is fair to say that Kyudo is all "do" and hardly any "Bu." In such an art, it seems silly to object to minute attention to the detail of the form- the form is the art. In this respect, Kyudo probably has as much in common with Japanese cultural arts such as Chado ("The Way of Tea"), than it does with other forms of Budo. As for the question of "form vs. realism" which is inherent in other forms of Budo, about the only utilitarian aspect of Kyudo is actually hitting the target- and as we have seen, there is much ambiguity about the target in Kyudo. Kyudo seems to have resolved the problem presented by the utilitarian impulse, by simply emphasizing form while de-emphasizing any utilitarian application. Weather the result is honestly a member of the Budo family is an open question (should a martial feeling and attitudes be manifest in the students, for an art to be considered a form of Budo? I would think so…), but the resulting art is indisputably beautiful, and quite conducive to the cultivation of spiritual and philosophical attitudes. That is the true value of Kyudo, as I see it.

Back to Top


   Thoughts on Naginata...

In the case of Naginata-do, "The Way of the Reaping Sword," however, there are a number of inherent issues arising from the form vs. realism conflict. For one thing, the modern atarashi naginata, or fencing pole-arm, has little resemblance to its medieval antecedents. The fencing atarashi naginata is built of a slender wood shaft and a bamboo "habu" or simulated blade. The resulting light, whippy weapon clearly does not handle like sturdy medieval pole-arms- a criticism not unlike those leveled against the shinai in Kendo. Perhaps this due to the fact that during the Tokugawa era, the Naginata became known as the "woman's spear," a reflection of the popularity of this weapon in earlier times among women of the Buke or warrior class, who were expected to master the Naginata as part of their education. When the modern art of Naginata-do was formed in the early twentieth century, the techniques and equipment were (apparently) deliberately scaled to reflect the physique of the Japanese women who were expected to be training in this art. For example, the art of Naginata is actually the art of the Ko-Naginata- the short naginata, and not its longer medieval cousin.

"This weapon was also called the "woman's spear," because women of the buke were expected to to have mastered the use of the naginata by the age of eighteen... In old-fashioned families, young ladies are regularly instructed in fencing with the halberd."

Oscar Ratti & Adele Westbrook, Secrets of the Samurai: The Martial Arts of Feudal Japan

In all fairness to Naginata, there are some things about this art which are at least somewhat more realistic than Kendo. For one thing, there are more targets in Naginata than in Kendo- in Naginata, the sune or shins are protected and become a valid target, which is inherently more realistic than Kendo. One of the legitimate knocks on Kendo, is the exclusion of the legs as a target. In Naginata, the legs become a target. I find this realistic.

Another realistic factor in Naginata is the complexity of effectively wielding this weapon. Simply put, learning to fence well with the atarashi Naginata is (in my opinion) much more complex than learning to fence with the shinai. In Kendo, the basic stance (chudan kamae) is frontal; in Naginata, all stances are duplicated in right or left hand kamae (hamni, or body bladed). Further, until very recently it was permissible to reverse the Naginata and strike tsuki with the ishizuki (butt); regrettably this realistic use of the weapon has been recently disallowed, although the Shikake-Ooji forms (kata-like exercises) still preserve this maneuver.

Thus, learning Naginata entails not only learning to fight from twice as many kamae (right and left) as in Kendo, but also involves an additional target (sune) and (until recently) how to employ the reverse of the weapon to tsuki. These complicating factors, coupled with the relative scarcity of qualified instructors in this country, fewer promotional opportunities, and the expense associated with equipment for this art, means that there are darned few people in the United States with any knowledge (much less expert knowledge) on how to employ the Naginata. There are probably no more than about a dozen genuine Naginta experts in this country, and most (not all) of them are in California. There are a small but growing number of Naginata students and Dojos in the Rocky Mountain, Mid-west, and East Coast regions, but the center of gravity for this art in the United States remains on the Pacific coast.

Regrettably, I've recently learned that the governing authorities of the art (in Japan) are actively considering removing the fencing requirement for examinations, up through Sho-Dan. This measure, coupled with the removal of the ishizuki-tsuki strike, seems like an attempt to preserve the form of the art and not allowing it to "degenerate" into simple utilitarian pole-arms fencing, by not allowing beginners thoroughly grounded in proper form to engage in fencing at all. There may also be safety considerations related to this decision as well; but if so, then realism is being sacrificed for safety.

I find myself conflicted over these developments. Clearly, the integrity of the form is important or it loses its Budo character. On the other hand, measures which render the art more unrealistic violate the spirit of versatility which, as I have previously stated, is what I believe should be the hallmark of a true warrior path.

Back to Top


   Concerning Isshu-jiai...

As a final commentary on the subject of Naginata training, the prospect of Isshu-jiai (Kendo vs. Naginata fencing) must also be addressed. Because of the similarity of equipment between these two arts, there exists the constant temptation among students of both to engage in direct sparring between the two. However, because of the tendency towards specialization in Budo, this prospect is actively discouraged except for high-ranking practitioners and the occasional "special" demonstration. I find this regrettable. Clearly, medieval warriors had to know how to face an adversary armed differently than themselves. One thing that the western European martial arts revival movement has done very well, is to explore the range of pole-arms vs. swordsmanship confrontations, with an emphasis on realism. In doing so, they have had to re-invent many pieces of equipment and techniques which have existed in Naginata training for a long time. How ironic it is that the prospect of pole-arms vs. swordsmanship is not thoroughly explored in Kendo and Naginata, where the techniques and suitable equipment already exists!

Such training would do much to remedy the unrealistic absence of the leg as a target in Kendo. By donning suneate, the Kendoka is forced to account for his legs, resulting in a somewhat more realistic simulation of a sword-fight or a battle against someone armed with a pole-arm. Certainly it is true that Kendoka who don suneate for the first time to fence against the Naginata, typically get hit in the legs several times before they figure out the purpose of the hitherto-useless gedan kamae. ("Oh, so that's what this kamae is for!"). It is not too much to say that an integrated training curriculum which includes both shinai and atarashi naginata fencing, including the wearing of suneate for all Kendoka, would serve to enhance the level of realism and hence the spirit of versatility in both of these arts.

"The naginata became famous not only because of its tremendous versatility in combat but also because of the many individual schools which developed intricate styles and remarkable proficiency in its use. Certain authors, in fact, even believe the introduction of protective armor for the legs and lower part of the body was in answer to the development and lethal use of the naginata."

Oscar Ratti & Adele Westbrook, Secrets of the Samurai: The Martial Arts of Feudal Japan

Having engaged in Isshu-Jiai myself on perhaps a dozen occasions, I can share a few beginners thoughts on what happens in these Kendo vs. Naginata encounters. Aside from the initial vulnerability of the Kendoka's legs, in my opinion the overall advantage in Ishhu-jiai rests with the Kendoka when both exponents are of relatively low rank or experience. Simply, because the Naginata is a more complicated weapon to learn, the Kendoka in such duels can often get inside of the arc of a Naginata wielded by a novice, with disastrous results for the Naginata exponent. A good Kendoka quickly learns that Harai waza becomes an important technique for moving inside of the business end of the Naginata--assuming they don't get their legs cut from under them first.

However, as the level of skill of the exponents increases, the advantage perceptibly shifts from the Kendoka to the Naginata. Among two equally high-skill exponents, the advantage will reside with the pole-arm. At this level, a Naginata wielded by a genuinely expert pole-arms fencer, is a truly formidable obstacle for a Kendoka, especially if they are not used to wearing suneate, which will slow them down. Further, really good Naginata fencers understand how to cut kurikomi or "choked-up" on the staff, meaning they can manipulate the Naginata well at close-distance, where the shinai otherwise excels. The result in this instance is usually defeat for the Kendoka.

In conclusion, the Naginata takes more time to learn to fight well with than the sword; but it rewards the committed exponent with the kind of skill that can keep a swordsman at bay and on the defensive. Despite the limitations of realism imposed by the equipment of modern atarashi Naginata, it is clear that measures can be taken (or preserved) that would enhance the realism of the art, and maintain its martial character. What concerns me is the prospect of movement in the opposite direction.

Back to Top


   Batto-do: Kendo and Iaido, Part II...

The limitations inherent in both Kendo and Iaido training have been evident to thoughtful Budoka for a long time. One of the men who has thought deeply on these matters is Nakamura Taizaburo, the Soke of the Nakamura Ryu school of Batto-do. The story of the Nakamura Ryu illustrates nicely many of the dynamics concerning form, realism, and a spirit of versatility, which I have been discussing in these essays.

The foundation of the Nakamura Ryu style of swordsmanship resides in the old Toyama Military Academy of pre-war Imperial Japan, the Japanese equivalent of West Point or Sandhurst. It was recognized by the Toyama Academy, that many officer candidates simply had no grounding in the Nihon-to. Rather than simply "plug-in" one of the existing "Koryu" (old-style) schools of swordsmanship to rectify this shortcoming, the Toyama Military Academy devised its own set of eight "waza" or forms, reflecting the circumstances of modern warfare. For example, the footwork in Nakamura Ryu has no oi-ashi ("following foot") movements, which work best in smooth-floor Dojos; in Nakamura Ryu, the various waza employ footwork closer to normal walking, suitable for soldiers wearing boots on uneven terrain. Further, as part of their training, the cadets of the Academy were also schooled in Tameshigiri or "test-cutting" techniques, in order to familiarize themselves with actual cutting. As a final supplement to their swordsmanship training, Kendo was also part of the curriculum as well. Thus, the officer candidates of the Toyama Military Academy received swordsmanship training comprised of forms, cutting, and fencing.

This program of instruction was as complete (and practical) a curriculum in the art of Japanese swordsmanship as any I have come across. However, there was an important catch to this curriculum: As a military training program, the entire course of instruction was intended to prepare competent swordsmen as quickly as possible. Under wartime conditions, there was simply no time to indulge a course of instruction lasting for years-- the objective was to produce competent swordsmen in a matter of weeks. Consequently, in the "Toyama Ryu" students started training with live blades as quickly as possible. The result was a no-nonsense curriculum whose spirit can be summarized as "get to the point."

After the war Nakamura Sensei worked to preserve the techniques (kata) of the Toyama Ryu once the Allied Occupation Authorities lifted the post-war ban on martial arts. Needless to say, because of the role that Japan played in the war, the preservation of the Toyama Ryu Iai-waza was a difficult subject for many Japanese Budoka; but even so, Nakamura Sensei persevered and became one of the founding fathers of the International Batto-do Federation. Adding to the Toyama curriculum several waza of his own, based upon his wartime experiences, Nakamura Sensei established the "Nakamura Ryu" style of swordsmanship. It is the Nakamura Ryu, along with the Toyama Ryu style, which are the cornerstones of the modern art of Batto-do, "The Way of Drawing the Sword." It has, of course, evolved into a Dojo art form, but Batto-do remains closer to its combative origins than other forms of Japanese swordsmanship. In fact, Nakamura Sensei is still alive today (2003) and continues as the Soke of the Ryu; but he is very old. He is very likely one of the few people alive today anywhere in the world that has actually used a sword in battle.

"In Kendo, kirigaeshi is executed by hitting a horizontal area with both right and left diagonal strikes. This can be grudgingly accepted simply because kendo is a bamboo sword technique. Traditional iaido styles have few natural diagonal cutting techniques and are not appropriate for actual combat techniques because of the formal kneeling position used in executing their techniques. This is why the former Toyama Military Academy created Toyama Ryu iaido and based it on standing techniques; thus, creating an actual combat martial art."

Nakamura Taizaburo, Batto-do Ju-Dan Hanshi, 10th Dan

The modern art of Batto-do, as preserved by Nakamura Sensei, is essentially a form of Iaido, but with one important difference: the practice of "Tameshigiri" is an essential and testable part of the curriculum. The eight waza of the Toyama Ryu, and the seven Nakamura Ryu waza, also differ from the older "Koryu" forms of Iaido (such as the Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu), by conducting all training in a standing posture, i.e. there are no kneeling or "Seiza" waza in the ryu, which are the root of most of the traditional schools of Iaido. (Presumably, sitting on your knees on a battlefield is not a very smart thing to do). This fact, coupled with the conduct of Tameshigiri, and the more-or-less accomodating attitude of the Nakamura Ryu towards the practice of Kendo (Nakamura Sensei is also a Go-Dan in Kendo), means that the Nakamura Ryu probably has achieved a higher level of realism than most of the other Iaido ryuha which teach swordsmanship.

I am deeply impressed with the forms, realism and versatility of the Nakamura Ryu. Although this is a school of Japanese swordsmanship and not a comprehensive school of Budo, there are important differences of attitude in this style, which coincide with my own beliefs to a large degree. First, as a Go-Dan in Kendo himself, Nakamura Sensei obviously found some value in the practice of Kendo- a marked departure in attitude towards Kendo from many other Iaidoka, and one which I heartily agree with. (I do suspect that some practitioners of Toyama Ryu and Nakamura Ryu Batto-do may not themselves have much use for Kendo, but that is irrelevant: Nakamura Sensei's rank in Kendo is a matter of record). Certainly it seems true that the two-man "Kumitachi" forms of the Nakamura Ryu, bear a marked family resemblance to the Kendo-no-Kata.

Second, I am also impressed with the no-nonsense utility of the Toyama and Nakamura Ryu waza. These techniques were not designed for beauty, but for simple effectiveness, as befits a military training program. The absence of any seiza waza attests to this. Moreover, the transmission of these waza seems less concerned with precision of form ("move your hand an inch to the right… there!"), than in the acquisition of the sequence and spirit of the waza by the students. Frankly, there is a gritty, visceral quality to the Toyama and Nakamura Ryu waza that I can't quite put my finger on, but it certainly feels more like a military training program than the other forms of Budo I have studied. (I spent eight years in the U.S. Army and National Guard as an Infantry Officer, so I have a sense of what a military training program is like). Although swordsmanship is an obsolete fighting art, it seems to me that the Toyama and Nakamura Ryu are as close to realism and utility as you can get in this day and age.

Which brings me to my last point: by embracing both forms and Tameshigiri, as well as an acceptance of Kendo, the Nakamura Ryu displays a genuinely versatile spirit towards the study of swordsmanship. I altogether approve of this spirit. As I see it, anyone who is interested in studying swordsmanship must, in addition to learning Iai-waza and fencing-waza, also train with live blades and learn to cut well and efficiently. As I can attest to, it is not as easy as it seems- the tatami does not lie, and you will see the results of a poor cut.

The question, of course, is if Nakamura Ryu swordsmanship is actually a form of Budo (Batto-do), or Bujutsu (Batto-Jutsu). It bills itself as a form of Budo ("Batto-do"); but frankly, the Toyama and Nakamura Ryu do not exhibit the same metaphysical perspective as does, say, Kyudo. (However: Nakamura Sensei is also a Yon-Dan in Kyudo- more evidence of his truly progressive and versatile attitude towards the study of Budo). While it is certainly true that Nakamura Sensei does not seem to discourage any philosophical perspectives on swordsmanship among his students (and has even penned some excellent thoughts on these matters), because this style is closer to its combative origins than other forms of Japanese swordsmanship, it feels more like Bujutsu than Budo. The relatively relaxed attitude of the style towards the minutiae of the waza, is also less artsy and preserves the "get to the point" emphasis of the Toyama waza.

As I see it, Batto-do generally is more inclined towards the Bujutsu frame of mind, than the Budo frame of mind. Nakamura Ryu Batto-do and the art of Kyudo seem to be at opposite ends of the continuum of Budo arts- one veers strongly towards martial energy (the "Bu"), and the other towards the philosophical (the "Do"). Thus, in conclusion, I think it is safe to say that while the Nakamura Ryu exhibits a splendid and practical attitude regarding the skills necessary for the proper training of a swordsman (forms, fencing, and cutting), the heavy martial emphasis of the style renders it, like Kyudo, just a bit unbalanced from a strictly Budo perspective. In my mind, it is actually a form of Bujutsu.

Striking a perfect balance between form and utility, between the "Bu" and the "do," is clearly not an easy thing to do. It is no surprise that all forms of Budo tend towards one side of the equation or the other. In this, Batto-do is no different from other forms of Budo, except in the relatively recent origins of the form.

Back to Top


   Federations, Politics, and Promotion...

One thing that is quite clear to anyone who is familiar with the martial arts scene in the United States, is that there has been a tremendous amount of martial arts "snake oil" for sale in this country since the end of the Second World War. There is no doubt that there are a lot of people out there who just more or less make up their own stuff, and then sell it to the unwary as an ancient form. Many Americans, being unfamiliar with Japanese history or culture, simply cannot discern the difference, and so end up paying quite a lot of money to learn what (they think) is an authentic form of Budo. This is not to say these "teachers" don't know or teach something useful or interesting- they often do- but what is happening in these cases is the misrepresentation of credentials, which is both dishonest and dishonorable. A Sensei I used to train with calls this the "Pink Smock Ryu" syndrome, and regrettably it is alive and well in the States.

Partly in response to this, and partly as a means of standardizing instruction, the Federation or "Renmei" (sometimes, "Remmei") system was established in Japan and exported to those countries where the study of Budo has taken root. We have seen how historically, the administration of a given form was the province of the many Ryuha or schools of Budo; but with the promotion of Budo in the school system within Japan and the spread of Budo overseas, it became clear that the traditional Ryuha did not have the capacity to administer instruction and certify promotions far beyond the immediate vicinity of the Soke or Iemoto. However, by banding their resources together into National and even International administrative bodies, the various Ryuha learned they could extend their administrative reach with a high degree of confidence in the resulting skill of distant students. Thus the Renmei / Federation system was born.

The Federation system has both advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, by standardizing the instruction of a given form, the various Budo Federations have established baseline measures which ensure the continuity of the form and prevent abuses from creeping in. By promoting only those persons who conform to Federation standards, the various Renmei can more or less ensure the quality of instruction being given in their name, even on the other side of the world. This is how (for example) a Kendoka from Arizona, can visit Japan or France and instantly fit right into a local training class, or a Kyudoka from South Carolina can visit Japan with a high degree of confidence that they will understand the flow of the shooting. As a consequence, the martial arts customer who studies a Federation-administered form, can proceed with confidence that the Instructor they are learning from, actually knows their business and is acknowledged as possessing a certain level of skill by their governing Federation. Further, by organizing tournaments, seminars, competitions, and administering promotional examinations, the various Renmei / Federations are able to foster a sense of community among the practitioners of a form, and provide students with clear milestones by which they can measure their progress in the art. All of these things are the positive fruits of the Renmei / Federation system.

However, like all human endeavors, the Federation system is susceptible to human ego and ambition. Because Budo generally attracts highly competitive people (especially in the west and especially among the so-called "sport" forms), those who invest considerable time and money in learning an art are often motivated by considerations unrelated to attaining personal skill or achievement. The result is often very political, along the lines of "office politics," as exponents of various grades jockey for position and influence within the Federation. Those with the best inter-personal skills are usually the winners, but sometimes sheer ruthlessness also prevails. It is a rare martial arts Federation where the leadership consistently acts in a unified and harmonious way. The United States Naginata Federation is a wonderful example of a "unified and harmonious" body; another is the American Kyudo Renmei, which seems to have overcome a history of disharmony and factionalism, and attained a high degree of internal unity in recent years. Conversely, it is my opinion that the adminsitration of Kendo in the United States is insanely political and rife with favoritism and "turfism," and apparently has been this way for many years.

Further complicating the political environment found in most martial arts Federations, is the well-known fact that in many cases, people are promoted for reasons unrelated to merit or skill. Considerations of faction, personal loyalty, personal contributions, age and longevity often influence promotion decisions (don't let anyone tell you otherwise!), and anyone who has been in Budo longer than a year or two can spot mid and high-level exponents whose rank does not seem commensurate with the skill displayed in the Dojo. Conversely, there always seem to be a number of relatively low-ranking, junior exponents around who display a terrific level of skill, but who for some reason just can't seem to get promoted beyond a certain level. The result of these personal and political limitations on the Federation system, is that sometimes very talented people get disgusted with it all, and simply drop out.

"In 1837 Matsudaira Awaji no kami Takamoto wrote a blistering attack on martial arts instructors... He charged that teachers not only refused promotion to those who had trained hard but also awarded certification to favored students without regard to actual ability. As a consequence, skilled students might lose confidence in their instructor and leave the school."

Hurst, Armed Martial Arts of Japan: Swordsmanship and Archery

There is no easy solution to these problems, as the cure (dispensing with the Federation system, leading to administrative anarchy and the proliferation of "Pink Smock Ryu"), is worse than the disease (disharmony and administrative corruption). Simply, the student of Budo must understand the nature of human endeavors such as martial arts Federations and administration, and (harder to do) understand themselves well enough to know where they fit in the scheme and hierarchy of the Federation. Students who find themselves up against the proverbial "glass ceiling" should explore their own behavior and limitations first, and develop a sufficient understanding of human nature, to understand why they have apparently maxed out. In some cases, the causes of bumping against the glass ceiling will be found to be external to the student; but in most cases, the answer is internal. It is a rare Budoka who can admit that the reason they can't get promoted, is due to their own behavior, or lack of skill.

As for the utility of promotions and rank, these are at best only a rough guide to a person's actual level of skill. The REAL rank of an exponent is to be found in their performance on the floor of the Dojo during everyday training, as well as in the way they conduct themselves in their dealings with others both inside and outside of the training hall. Sadly, promotion examinations cannot (or do not) examine a person's character as part of the testing process. However, a True Sensei is someone who is proficient in their art, can show authentic (Japanese) credentials, is immune to faction and favoritism, is an effective Instructor, and is in total self-control of their behavior in a positive, nurturing, and non-exploitative way. This should be the objective of every Budoka. If you find someone like this, do what you must to study with them.

Back to Top


   Conclusions...

As I survey the field of the modern armed Budo forms, I perceive the wide range of humanity at work: beauty and disharmony, selfishness and selflessness, realism and fantasy, spirituality and utility. I have concluded that it is unlikely that this range of internal contradicitons is going to change anytime soon, despite the periodic (and often-justified) outrages of students when confronted with the all-too-human behavior their instructors, or the evident shortcomings of the systems they teach and administer.

However, the study of Budo is largely about self-perfection, so we should not be too surprised or dissapointed to find that even instructors are still on the path. Neither is Budo necessarily about kicking ass, there are always important philosophical concepts and principles associated with any form that render it a "Way" or road to greater understanding of the Self- or else it is Bujutsu and not Budo. Recognizing this, a sensible person will come to understand the divergent impulses of form and realism in modern Budo, seek to balance them, and then cultivate a versatility of martial skills with this understanding in mind. In this way, one can train and exercise the body, cultivate spiritual insight and detachment, and attain a warrior's mind and spirit that will allow them to deal with any of the challenges that life may present.

"A bushi asked a Zen Master: "When a man is at the parting of the ways between life and death, how should he behave?" Answered the Master: "Cut off your dualism, and let the one sword stand serenly by itself against the sky."

Winston L. King, Zen and the Way of the Sword

Back to Top



Home       Masonry