The Way of the Modern Martial Artist

 

A Freewheeling “Translation” of the Hagakure with Commentary for the Modern Martial Practitioner

Book One: An Introduction to the Way of the Warrior

     What follows is a somewhat experimental post that I hope to possibly turn into a book at some point down the road.  I thought I would use my blog to post over the coming months what will essentially be the first draft of the manuscript, in between my more regular lifting articles and my somewhat irregular Budo essays.  I want to discuss, primarily, the history, philosophy, and practice of the martial arts as they are practiced in the modern world.  To do this—the subjects will be free-ranging—I am going to use The Hagakure as a springboard.  The Hagakure in English means “In the Shadow of Leaves.”  It's a popular bushido text written by the 18th century samurai Yamamoto Tsunetomo to the younger samurai Tashiro Tsuramoto.  It is a great text, and for many modern martial artists, particularly practitioners of the Japanese Budo, it has become the “go to” work.  I wrote “translation” in the sub-heading because my translation cannot really be called that, as it’s more of a pseudo-translation.  I have “translated” it in the manner of which it might have been written in today’s world, not by a samurai to a younger samurai, but by an American martial artist to other, younger modern martial artists who want to know more about their art as well as martial arts in general.

     In taking up this task, I have used several modern translations of The Hagakure, but primarily I have relied upon two, one by William Scott Wilson—my personal favorite translator of Japanese texts; I find his works to be the most reliable and accurate to the meaning of the original texts—and the other by Barry D. Steben.  Wilson’s translation was simply titled The Hagakure whereas Steben’s translation was titled The Art of the Samurai.  To give you the difference between their works and my “translation,” what follows is Steben’s translation of the first paragraph of the preface of The Hagakure:

     If you are a retainer in the service of Nabeshima domain, you must devote yourself to the study of the history and traditions of our domain.  Recently this study has been neglected.  The most fundamental purpose of this study is to settle one’s mind through knowing the origins of the house, and to understand how the labours and compassion of the house’s ancestors are the foundation for the long prosperity of the house.

     Here is my “translation” of that exact same paragraph:

     If you are a martial artist who practices a particular discipline—be it karate, kung-fu, muay thai, taekwondo (the most popular martial art in the world, so there’s a bunch of ‘ya out there), Brazilian jiu-jitsu, or even MMA—devote yourself completely to the physical aspects, the history, and the traditions of your own art.  A lot of dudes love the physical side but neglect the study of history and tradition.  The purpose of your studies and your practice is so that you will understand the “heart” of your discipline instead of what your fellow practitioners tell you about it or believing every stupid meme or fake quote on Facebook.  It’s important to understand the labors and the passion that the founders and early forerunners of your martial art poured into their practice so that your art can truly prosper for many years to come.

     There is a lot more to the preface of The Hagakure than just that, but I’m going to go directly to Book One of the work, as I doubt much more of the preface will be of interest to many modern practitioners.  For the remainder of this, I will only be using my “translation” and not returning to another’s.  All italicized paragraphs are the “translation” and the non-italicized parts afterward are my commentary.  If this sounds interesting to you so far, I hope you will enjoy what follows.  With that preamble out of the way, let’s get right into it.

The Way of the Modern Martial Artist

Book One/Part One

     It’s not unusual to read or hear that a martial artist should devote himself to “the way of the warrior,”—what is commonly known as bushido—but if we’re really honest about it, most martial artists are ignorant of the true meaning of the way of the warrior.  If someone at the dojo, or maybe one of your cousins at a Thanksgiving dinner who knows that you train in the martial arts, asks you, “What is the meaning of bushido?”, are you able to quickly answer?  Probably not.  This is because you haven’t established the meaning of it in your mind beforehand.  You’re not alone.  Most martial artists have heard about “the way of the warrior” and they might enjoy reading memes about it online, but they haven’t really studied it.  But this is negligence and its true meaning should NOT be neglected by a practitioner of the Way.

     I think The Hagakure is a popular text because it has much insight, and therefore much to offer, the modern martial artist.  Obviously, Tsunetomo didn’t say anything about cousins at Thanksgiving or memes online, but clearly martial practitioners in Japan a couple-hundred years ago didn’t really understand bushido any more than martial artists understand it today.  Also, most of what we think we know about bushido is false and not historically true.

     The modern misunderstandings about bushido come mostly from a book that was published in 1899 titled Bushido: The Soul of Japan.  It was written by a Japanese Christian Quaker named Inazo Nitobe.  He wrote it in English while living in America, and it was later translated into Japanese in 1908.  It was a bestseller upon publication and remains popular to this very day.  Even Theodore Roosevelt read it, and, apparently, was quite fond of it.  It became the de facto text on bushido.  But there’s a big problem.  It’s just not true.  It’s an overly romanticized, largely historically inaccurate portrayal of the “code” of the samurai.  A better title for it might be Bullshido!  Believing that the samurai of the prior centuries lived by such a code, one and all of them, is kind of like believing that all of the medieval knights of Europe were exactly like the legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable.  Sure, there might be some of them that followed such a chivalrous code but, by and large, the vast majority of them did not and there was never some written code that they all studied.

     Let me add this, however, and I think it’s important to understand.  When some martial artists, particularly those who love Nitobe’s book and other writings about bushido that emerged after it and well into the 20th century, discover that the book is, largely, historically wrong, they become disillusioned.  Or they defend the book and other similar writings because they have devoted their life to such views, and they don’t want to believe that their efforts have been in vain.  Just because Bushido: The Soul of Japan and similar books might be not entirely authentic doesn’t mean that they don’t have good points and doesn’t mean that one shouldn’t devote himself to the principles within it.  Deciding that you will live by a “bushido code,” even if such a “code” was never really followed by many historical budoka, is a good decision.  Choosing to live your life by the principles that Nitobe wrote about, such as justice, courage, benevolence, truthfulness, honor, loyalty, and self-control is commendable.  Do not become disillusioned.  Continue in your martial journey.  Embody such a code in your life and live by it.  This is a good decision that you have made.  Decide what bushido means for you and follow it to the best of your abilities.

     The good news, too, is that by reading other, earlier, writings such as The Hagakure or the writings of other samurai such as Miyamoto Musashi’s Book of Five Rings or Yagyu Munenori’s The Life-Giving Sword, you get a much more accurate representation of the martial idea, particularly within Japanese Budo, and you can combine all of what you learn from them and Nitobe’s book or other more modern writings in your own quest for true bushido.

     You might not be a practitioner of a Japanese martial art, but if you train in almost any martial art in the modern world, your art has probably been hugely influenced by karate.  Taekwondo, for example, is in many ways nothing more than a Korean re-interpretation of Japanese karate, so your art might be more influenced by it than you realize.  Knowing all of this is part of studying your art’s history and development.

     The way of the warrior is found in death.  If a martial artist must choose between life and death, death is the immediate choice.  You shouldn’t consider a single other thing or wonder why in the world you got involved in all this “life/death stuff” in the first place.  When sparring in the dojo, in a match in the ring, or a real brawl on the street, you must be decisive and push ahead.  The idea that if you fail—maybe you get walloped by your opponent’s spinning side kick and are sent crashing to the canvas—you have died a “dog’s death” is just plain foolish and stupid.  You must not worry about life or death, failure or accomplishment, or whether or not your objective will be achieved.  All of us prefer winning over losing and we certainly prefer living to dying.

     If one lives even though one intended to die—in other words, if you win even though you intended to lose—then this is cowardice.  If one dies/loses though one intended to live/win, then there is no shame in such an outcome.  This is what it means to be a real martial artist.  Every morning upon awakening and every evening upon going to sleep, the martial artist must have the correct frame of mind.  One must live as though he has already died.  This leads to freedom and allows the martial practitioner to succeed at his goal.

     “The way of the warrior is found in death” is probably the most famous quote from The Hagakure.  It is translated in different ways, and here I have not altered it but have used Wilson’s translation.  For a modern martial artist, there are two points that I think are important.  The first is practical.  If we take “death” in The Hagakure to mean “winning” and “life” to mean “losing,” it has a meaning that we can easily apply to our practice.  If you “decide” before a sparring match that you’re going to lose, or not really put much effort into it, but then you end up “winning” the match, that is not the true spirit of the warrior’s way and it really doesn’t matter that you “succeeded.”  The opposite is true, as well.  If you lose a match even though you were intent on winning it and, in fact, put all that you had into it, this is the true spirit of bushido.

     All this talk of death also has a philosophical/spiritual side to it.  In Zen and other spiritualities, you often hear (or read) the saying that “one must die before he dies.”  This has nothing to do with physical death.  It is the ego that must “die.”  In this context, we can truly say that the way of the warrior is found in death.  You must die to self, to pettiness, vanity, and all of the things of life that the ego clings to.  This “death” is really a letting go.  You cannot attain the ultimate—salvation, liberation, enlightenment, theosis in the Christian tradition to which I belong, moksha in the yogic schools, or Nirvana in the Buddhist conception—unless you die to self.

     When some martial artists read all this talk of “dying before you die” they can misunderstand it.  They find such talk to be almost depressing and they wonder why such an emphasis must be made on “killing” the ego.  Part of this, I think, has to do with the fact that they think that if they let go of their ego or “self” they will somehow lose their personality or become a lifeless “blob.”  But nothing could be further from the truth.  None of this discussion of egolessness means that you should stop being an “individual” or that you shouldn’t care what happens in your life or to those that you love or that you should stop striving, whether that’s in your martial art or in anything else.  Instead, when seen correctly, the loss of self leads to joy, to happiness, and to peace of mind.  You no longer cling to trivial matters that just aren’t that important in the end.  You can, in the end, be more your “true self.”  By letting go of your ego, you find that you can more easily love others, be compassionate to your friends, family members, loved ones, and even strangers.  If you teach martial arts, you do it for your students and you care about their progress, instead of trying to show off or boost your ego.  A great martial arts teacher gives of himself freely and wants his students to succeed.  When he lets go of ego, he will hope that his students can one day surpass his own and then the student becomes the master, as the saying goes.

     As we continue, we will flesh all of this out in more detail.  What we have discussed so far is the base on which we will build our understanding of the way of the warrior, and how to be one in the modern world.

     Even though this essay is a bit different from my usual writings, as always, if you have any comments or questions about it, then please leave them in the “comments” section below.  Let me or other readers know how the practice of the martial ways have impacted your life.  Also, if you have any questions that are personal or you just prefer a private correspondence, then send me an email or even message me on Facebook.  I typically get around to answering my emails every couple days.

     If you enjoy reading the blog, then please consider supporting my work by purchasing one of my books.  Click on the link for details on all of my books that are available for purchase and for more information on each one of them.

     By the way, I’m not sure how much I will post this week, though I may end up posting one (or even two) additional articles.  I am speaking at a writer’s conference next weekend and will be preparing for it in addition to my typical writing schedule.  After the conference, I may post a transcript of my talk on the blog if there is any interest.

     Until my next post, keep lifting and stay at it!  As the saying goes, there are no shortcuts.  Just hard work, consistency, and dedication.