'Instruments' Part 2

In my last post, “Instruments of Ill-Omen,” I cited the Tao Te Ching as an example of the Buddhist attitude towards weapons: “Weapons are instruments of Ill-omen, therefore followers of the Way never own them or have anything to do with them.” But if that is the case, how can any serious Buddhist have anything to do with martial arts? I have discussed this many times with Monshin Sensei. There is no doubt that the practice of arms and the Dharma are incompatible. Yet, there are clearly many practicing Buddhists who also train in martial arts and Monshin Sensei is OK with this. Given the well-known peacefulness of Buddhism, some people may find this strange— what is going on here?

In my experience (as both a Buddhist and martial artist), much of the confusion arises from the different motives that people bring to the study of martial arts. In Japan, there are distinct terms used to differentiate between training in actual, violent combative techniques, and the more modern and recreational forms of these arts which have evolved in the last hundred years. For example, the study of ancient and deadly grappling techniques was called Jujutsu; but in modern times, Judo evolved as a sporting and recreational version of this ancient art. Likewise, the study of Kenjutsu was about combat swordsmanship, but modern Kendo is a recreational activity akin to western fencing, whose rules have been hedged about to prohibit actual injury and transform the activity into a contest of cultivated and defined skills. And so forth with all of the Japanese martial arts— Kyujutsu (combat archery) became Kyudo (ceremonial archery), and Aikijutsu became Aikido, and so forth. In this fashion, the deadly practice of Bujutsu (“martial arts”) has evolved into the recreational practice of Budo (the “martial way”), with the word “way” carrying a distinctly philosophical connotation.

Thus, the practice of the various forms of Budo have transcended their violent origins, to become cultural and athletic activities with philosophical overtones. In the modern Budo arts, all of the most violent and deadly waza (techniques) have been purged from the curriculum. But this recreational evolution is generally unrecognized in the west, or actively disdained by martial artists whose motives are rooted in typically western insecurities and delusions. In Japan, for example, the practice of Kendo is widespread among both men and women, principally because it is an athletic elective in Japanese high schools and Universities. Those who continue practicing Kendo as adults are typically motivated by cultural or recreational reasons, and sometimes philosophical reasons.

In America, however, I can say from first-hand experience that the motives of most new Kendo students are often a bit delusional—such as the widespread samurai romanticism portrayed in western culture, or the ever-popular “self-defense” motive, a particularly silly reason to practice Kendo. The idea of studying Budo to learn self-defense would seem strange to a Japanese person— in the first place, that is not what Budo has become, and in the second place, crime is low in Japan and hence there is much less physical insecurity. It is this discontinuity of motives which contributes to the confusion among some western Buddhists who may struggle to understand the coexistence of budo and Buddhism. When western Buddhists question if the martial arts are compatible with Buddhism, they are displaying a good understanding of Buddhism but a poor understanding of modern martial arts, a misunderstanding based on popular culture and perhaps suspicion of our characteristically western motives for studying these arts.

The irony, of course, is that despite this misunderstanding, the suspicion of many western Buddhists towards martial arts is actually well-founded. Factually speaking, the way many western martial artists practice their art— with a violent emphasis that generates ego enhancement— is indeed incompatible with Buddhism. Western Buddhists as a community may not actually understand modern Japanese Budo, but they understand other Americans very well. Western martial artists have all kinds of reasons why they practice the art they have chosen, and character development is usually on the list. But at the moment of introspection, it is not usually the principal motivation, which often is related to ego gratification, such as winning tournaments or getting promotions or the cool secret-thrill of handling samurai weapons, or even simply just wanting to fight and dominate others. While these motives are true even of many Asian martial artists, in the absence of clearly articulated peaceful motives, westerners are more likely to fall into the ego-trap of projecting their own fantasies and insecurities onto their chosen art. When Budo is practiced this way, it does seem in conflict with Buddhism, and hence becomes just another form of clinging.

But that is not what the various organizations which govern these arts are saying they are all about. In 1987, the Japan Budo Association (Nippon Budo Kyogikai), the umbrella Federation comprised of the national governing bodies of Kendo, Kyudo, Sumo, Karatedo, Kempo, Naginata and Jukendo, published “The Budo Charter” (Budo Kensho) outlining the purpose and objectives of the practice of these arts. Translated into English in 2004, Article One reads as follows (from Alexander Bennet, “Naginata: The Definitive Guide”) p. 78):

ARTICLE 1: OBJECTIVE OF BUDO

Through physical and mental training in the Japanese martial ways, budo exponents seek to build their character, enhance their sense of judgment, and become disciplined individuals capable of making contributions to society at large.

From there, the subsequent five articles utilize words such as courtesy, self-control, respect for others, winning with modesty, accepting defeat gracefully, cleanliness for the Dojo, and an open-mindedness that still honors tradition.

Thus, the official statement of purpose of the Japan Budo Association, makes clear that character development is the proper objective of the study of Budo. Clearly, these many organizations are aiming for something more sublime than simply kicking ass, winning tournaments, getting promoted or becoming a fantasy Jedi Knight.

It is this nuanced understanding of both Budo and Buddhism which allows me to practice both. The precise dividing line for me, came down to this question— which arts am I studying, where the weapons are real and the intention is deadly? Not Kendo— the shinai is a bamboo fencing stave, an “instrument” designed specifically not to harm people. In Kyudo, the razor-tipped arrows were long ago capped with blunted target arrowheads, making it almost impossible to injure someone save by wild misfortune. Even Iaido, the art of “drawing the sword,” is today typically practiced with an “Iaito,” a blunt-edged training sword which can’t actually cut. Of all the Budo arts that I have studied, only Batto-do— the study of Japanese military swordsmanship— is actually practiced with “live” swords, deadly intention, and practical cutting application. And so, this was the martial art that I chose to surrender to my practice of the Dharma. Ultimately, if the idea that “followers of the Way should have nothing to do with weapons,” is to have any meaning for me personally, clearly some sacrifice was necessary.

Ultimately, Budo and Buddhism can be mutually compatible, but I think that both the teacher and the student must be thinking clearly about their motives. I also think that it helps when the art being studied is evolutionary in nature, with clearly stated objectives related to human development. When all of these are in alignment, then we should not fear that the martial arts are an “Instrument of Ill-omen.”