Early in my martial arts days, I recall that I had a certain distaste for ‘organized’ martial arts. My excuses were similar to those tossed around by people who dislike ‘Organized’ religion: too much ritualism, separation from the truth, breeding ground for hypocrisy, cultivation of general ignorance – etc.
Now, I never really agreed with the arguments against organized religion, since faith seems to be an issue of individuality, therefore making problems with religion (organized or not) purely personal problems; but I was avidly against martial traditionalism in my early days, perhaps without realizing the parallel mentioned above.
In my mind, it was a matter of winning. I interpreted Musashi’s ‘victory is the goal of strategy’ theme to literally mean that the ends justify the means in martial arts just as they do in dire conflict. I feel that I understand now that this is not necessarily the case.
As is common among young and untrained fighters, I was fixated on overpowering and physically crushing opponents, using various arts to that end without regard for the art or for its employment (Musashi even noted this about himself when he was older). This is all-too-common within MMA and extreme fighting circles, and is unfortunately gaining momentum in ‘Mixed Sword-Fighting’ (an amalgamation of several unrelated sword arts pitted against each other in a single tournament). The result is a degeneration of more refined aspects of older arts whose nuance is retained through the traditional approach to training.
In swordsmanship, one finds through research that many types of swords and armor exist throughout the world and arts developed to properly wield the longer-lived varieties. Those arts that met frequently throughout history developed to counter each other, while those that never met developed disregarding other styles. With this in mind, one can imagine combat between unmatched arts, but real examples are rarely seen – and learning enough about more than one art to effectively merge them would require extensive training and experience as well as a weapon that could be used for the variable techniques. (For example, a katana could be used for saber fighting as well as Kenjustu with a little creativity; but a saber could not easily be used in Kenjustu, since it requires its used being limited to one hand – also, a katana would not be as well suited for the mounted portion of combat saber skills, since most have shorter blades and would have to be held with the right hand near the pommel instead of the tsuba. Further, a saber might be useable for Iaido, but would require stylistic adaptation to offset its more forward balance and greater length. In both cases, the limited conceivable interchangeability between the katana and European saber is based purely upon the fact that they share certain geometric elements.)
All that said, deviating too far from the arts that were developed over centuries of trial and error in real combat will result in an overdependence upon natural ability and luck and this, as Musashi put it, is not the true way.
Developing reproducible techniques that can be refined through observation and cultivating form that takes the utmost advantage of body and weapon offers the stability that one needs to defeat opponents consistently. The difference between this approach to martial arts and the approach of the undisciplined, but naturally-skilled fighter is the same as that which exists between the idea of surviving on money earned through steady employment and surviving solely on money earned playing poker.
In battle, the end goal must always be victory. Even sacrificial losses are allowed with victory in mind; but in martial arts, especially in sport and in practice, victory is an intangible thing. Both opponents fight for the sake of cultivating greater skill or to demonstrate prowess – in the end, both expect to walk away, harboring no ill will one toward another. In this case (the art) the ends should not be expected to justify the means as might be acceptable in a life and death struggle. The purpose of the art is to perfect the person, who through effort enriches the art. The victory in training is merely a side effect of demonstrating greater skill – which in turn shows the superior artist.
Once again, swordsmanship seems more able to exemplify this dichotomy between fighting to win and fighting to grow. The need to win with one blow while preventing your opponent from winning with one blow makes a focus on skills foremost. Through training, the swordsman gains the strength necessary to wield the sword, finding excess strength useful but unnecessary. Increasing speed and reaction time is a constant goal as is learning the myriad methods of employing various techniques in time with an opponent’s activity. The skills one acquires through training and experience are what wins for the swordsman, while luck and strength tend to take a side seat in battle.
It has been said that some men are born naturally stronger and some are born naturally lucky, but none fall from the womb with any skill. Since swordsmanship takes great advantage of this even plain of acquired skills, matches between swordsmen are not merely clashes of opposing will, but tests of skill – and skill can not be measured properly without established criteria.
In a real battle, the end would be determined by the death or maiming of one combatant. Thus, in that case, using any means necessary to separate the enemy from his life is perfectly acceptable, provided that victory is attained at the end of the encounter. However, a victory of skill over skill is a bit more elusive and must be judged under controlled conditions; otherwise one would have to account for millions of minute factors that would skew analysis to the point that proof of ‘winning’ due to superior swordsmanship alone would be impossible to substantiate.
Now, to some it is enough to merely win, but merely beating the opponent down or cutting him or shooting him first is not the goal of the martial artist. That is the use of the art and its end purpose in practice, but it is not to be confused with the goal of the artist himself. The goal of the artist is to grow ever more adept, so that employing the art for practical purposes becomes more natural and consistent. This goal is what separates the martial artist from the brawler, the swordsman from the berserker, and the marksman from the gunner.
As a swordsman, I have found it more important to know that I have improved than to know that I can win a duel against this or that person. Perhaps in keeping with the archetype, I do sometimes focus on defeating an individual if they are particularly skilled, but more often than not, matches are just experiments from which I determine my level of proficiency. In order for the experiment to produce useful information, the variables must be controlled and monitored – i.e. rules must be known and strictly obeyed.
If I were to fight without the constraints of the art’s competition structure, I would be unable to tell if victory came as a result of my superior swordsmanship, or as a result of some other factor that had nothing to do with my skills as a swordsman.
As I am sure the reader could imagine, winning by any means other than honorable use of sword skills feels the same to a serious swordsman as cheating or winning by forfeit – it is simply unacceptable.
In the end I found that this is why the rules are important and why the ‘establishment’ represented by ancient arts is necessary for true expressions of ability to be judged and measured.
Perhaps in the open battlefield, it is obviously better to take the paper-rock-scissors approach to fighting, using the most effective means necessary to effect victory without regard for what that means might be or how use of such means reflects on the individual fighter. But to those specialists who wish to gain more from a fight than merely the destruction of opponents, paper vs. paper, rock vs. rock, and scissors vs. scissors is the only approach that seems logical.
Let the swordsman say to his foe, “I will fight you with the same weapon and the same equipment on level ground and I will obey your rules of engagement, so when I win it will be known to all that it was because I was the better swordsman,”
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