A Unified Field Theory: Aiki and Weapons - Andantino Simplice

This article should now be considered a work-in-progress, of interest both for the discussion it engendered as well as presenting an earlier perspective on my work. I have radically revised this essay in my new book, HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT. Some of the conclusions I have reached are somewhat at variance to what you will find here. Those interested in the book can find it at www.edgework.info/buy.html

PART III - Ueshiba Morihei and Weapons — The Shadows of Yagyu

There should be no doubt that Ueshiba Morihei was a genius in martial arts studies. What many a genius can do is learn forms and techniques with astonishing rapidity — sometimes after a single viewing or experience. More importantly, such an individual is able to link up disparate techniques, or even kata from different systems, either finding a common thread within them, or reworking them so that he has created a common thread — his own insights and skills imbuing the form in a radically new way. It is perhaps of little importance to the development of anyone’s skills in aikido, particularly in terms of skill with aikiken and aikijo, to try to figure out what ryu he learned, and what influence they might have had upon him — but it’s certainly a lot of an interesting intellectual exercise, kind of an archeology of a man’s movement signature, drawn in historical space through the cuts and slashes of the weapons he wielded.

The first weapon that Ueshiba reportedly studied in any depth was jukenjutsu — bayonet. Meiji period bayonet training was originally based on French and German bayonet principals, but it was later reworked using methods derived from Japanese spear-fighting (sojutsu). The footwork and thrusting techniques are quite different from sojutsu. The spear is a long shaft with a spearhead with a long tang, tightly bound within the shaft. A bayonet, on the other hand, was mounted far less securely on a rifle. One of the hallmarks of sojutsu is that thrusts are made with the back hand while the weapons is slid through the bracing front hand, whereas, in jukenjutsu, both hands are fixed on the weapon. To put it crudely, one thrusts with the spear and pokes with the bayonet. The yari was a weapon perfectly suited to its task, whereas a bayonet on a rifle was a jerry-rigged contraption, to be used when battlefield tactics go awry. That bayonet charges, for a long time, were a choice of many generals, was due to several factors: the inferior quality of early muskets and rifles, which required close-quarter combat, and beyond this, in the transition from polearms to firearms, generals remained wedded to tactics which did not take full advantage of the capabilities of the latter. For example, in the American Revolutionary War, the British, who maintained formations not unlike those of troops of spearmen, were decimated by the guerilla tactics of the Americans, who fought at a distance from behind trees and fences.

The bayonet, in jukenjutsu, is used with crisp movements executed in an upright posture, with the butt of the rifle brought to the right pectoral muscle. The feet are drawn into a relatively straight line, and the body naturally falls into hanmi (literally “half-facing,” the classic stance of aikido). The yari, on the other hand, is either thrust deeply with the back hand at the hip, or in some ryu, tucked securely under the armpit. In its ideal usage (in drill), soldiers move in close formation, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Ueshiba, a young man, with a modicum of martial arts experience and immense talent, joined the Army and, along with all the other recruits, learned how to thrust, deflect and reverse the mokuju (wooden rifle/bayonet practice weapon) to deliver strikes with the butt. The bayonet should be considered, therefore, to be the root study of Ueshiba’s long-weapon art. I recall a film of Ueshiba repetitively thrusting a sharpened stick into a tree.* This practice weapon was a replica of what is called a Makura-yari (“pillow spear”) or tanso (“short spear”), a short spear used as a weapon of home defense in earlier periods of history, able to be used with facility in low ceiling rooms and narrow hallways. Unlike the deep, full-bodied thrusts one often sees in his solo form, Ueshiba here seems to use his body in jukenjutsu fashion to absorb the impact of his thrusts. Further, the backhand strike/thrusts with the jo in Ueshiba’s form are also very close to that of the butt stroke in Japanese bayonet fighting.

Ueshiba next studied Goto-ha Yagyu Shingan-ryu, allegedly the first martial system he practiced subsequent to his modern military training. One thing that has confused the uninitiated, trying to figure out what Ueshiba might have learned through observation of embu by the Yagyu Shingan-ryu is that there are several lines of this ryu still extant and they are rather different in character and technique. For example, Mr. Akuzawa, the instructor of the eclectic Aunkai, of which there has been some discussion recently in these blogs, has apparently practiced another common style of Shingan-ryu, one that trains with a radical body twisting coupled with strikes — quite eccentric in appearance, but apparently geared to developing coordinated-and-linked-body power (see ki/kokyu discussions elsewhere, and please don’t bring it here!!!!). This training method is NOT part of the Goto-ha Yagyu Shingan-ryu.

Goto-ha Yagyu Shingan-ryu is currently surviving quite well, with a strong dojo still maintained by 11th generation shihan Kajitsuka Yasushi. It could be termed the “muscular” Shingan-ryu. They term their own system, “taijutsu,” (body art), and that is quite fitting. Their grappling is very powerful and simple, appropriate to fully-armored individuals, including throws that combine full-bodied impact and dropping the enemy on the crown of his head. Their kenjutsu is a set of short forms, with heavy bokuto, featuring clashes of the stout tsuba, body smashes (tai-atari), and heavy cuts. Particularly remarkable is their bojutsu and naginatajutsu, where both weapons are repeatedly smashed together. The techniques of the long weapons are also simple, matter-of-fact and powerful.

There is some debate as to what depth Ueshiba studied — apparently, he went to the dojo on weekends during the period of his military service, and afterwards occasionally visited from his home in Tanabe. He received a mid-level menkyo, but it is unsigned.**

At any rate, Ueshiba did have a few years training in an art that has all sorts of weapons kata and powerful taijutsu. Could this training have had an influence on Ueshiba’s development of his weapon training? Possibly. Just as we see elements of jukenjutsu in the way Ueshiba thrust at stationary objects, it is possible that Ueshiba, within the clash of weapons in his later improvisatory training, may have called on his Shingan-ryu practice as part of the sum total of who he had become. It is not readily apparent, however. That I have seen nothing in the sequences and nothing in the techniques of the kenjutsu or longer weapons that resembles that done in aikiken or aikijo may not be convincing “evidence.” More important is Muto Masao, the 10th headmaster of Goto-ha Yagyu Shingan-ryu, who, while verifying the validity of the contents of the certificate held by the Ueshiba family, did not, however, certify aikiken or aikijo techniques as being a permutation of Goto-ha Yagyu Shingan-ryu.

In light of this, it is instructive to consider Ueshiba Morihei’s own account of his training history. Because he described some things in what could be termed “impressionistic” terms, it obscures that, in fact, he was rather accurate. In one interview, he asserted that he studied Tenshin Shinyo-ryu and then Kito-ryu. The former statement is substantiated, but not the latter — in fact, the next martial art he studied, briefly, was Kodokan judo. However, I have met several old judo teachers who asserted that they studied Kito-ryu, meaning the “old-school” style of judo that they learned in their youth which they were implicitly contrasting with modern sportive judo. In the case of these judoka, they were not trying to fake a lineage back to Kito-ryu, the archaic jujutsu school - they were merely trying to clearly differentiate to me that what they did was not the jacket wrestling that they felt judo had become.

Ueshiba then asserted that he studied Yagyu-ryu and Shinkage-ryu, both of which he referred to as jujutsu schools. This has been a stumbling block for researchers, because, focused on Yagyu Shinkage-ryu, which does not have a jujutsu component, people have assumed that Ueshiba was indulging in hyperbole (at best). In his reference to “Yagyu-ryu,” I believe he was merely stating the truth - he’d studied Yagyu Shingan-ryu. Most significant here is that he indicates, in referring to it as jujutsu, that most of his training was in the taijutsu portion of the art. As this is the core study of Goto-ha Yagyu Shingan-ryu, it is probable his weapons training in this system was very limited.

Morihei Ueshiba did have a rather important relationship with Yagyu Shinkage-ryu, which I will discuss in the near future in Section IV. This is not, I believe, what he was referring to when he mentioned studying Shinkage-ryu jujutsu. In 1922, Ueshiba received his kyoju dairi menkyo in Daito-ryu. Takeda also presented him with a Shinkage-ryu menkyo. Little is known about the substance of this certificate and what it represents, but it does exist. Let us take Ueshiba at his word. He stated it was Shinkage-ryu jujutsu. Takeda Sokaku is not known to have studied such a system, but I have a theory, one which is congruent with the times and the man, when martial arts were not koryu, not “copyrighted,” and a man could make assertions based on both tradition and the strength of his arms. Takeda wished to give Ueshiba, a man whom Takeda Tokimune once referred to as the student Takeda most loved, a man who, despite a large family and a very stressful life, had opened his home to him in Ayabe, signal recognition. Shinkage, a name applied to hundreds of schools, has an almost archetypal numinous character within Japanese history. It may also have had profound significance to Takeda personally. It was at the dojo of Sakakibara Kenichi where the wider world of Japanese martial arts opened to Takeda, a young uncultivated youth from the sticks of Aizu, where he refined and tested his skills, the Jikishinkage-ryu, a compliment to the direct and upright Ono-ha Itto-ryu he had previously studied. Takeda may have, thereby, been giving something to Ueshiba that exemplified what was special and unique in their teacher-student relationship, that he saw in Ueshiba the same fierce desire to challenge the world, and always learn more. In essence, he may have been saying, “This, at least, is between you and me.” Whether this meant there was “Shinkage-ryu material” that Takeda taught to Ueshiba, alone, or if he simply wished to give Ueshiba something emblematic of their special relationship is something that we will never know. But at any rate, that is the Shinkage-ryu jujutsu that Ueshiba referred to in his reminiscences of his youth.

In sum, then, before Ueshiba entered the Daito-ryu school of Takeda Sokaku in 1914, he had learned how to thrust and fight with a bayonet using modern military methods, and he had learned four-years-weekend’s-worth of Goto-ha Yagyu Shingan-ryu, a brawny, system, that used body, sword and long-weapons in a highly effective, very powerful manner, quite at variance to either the empty-handed or weapons methods of latter-day aikido. It is probably that most of what he learned was taijutsu, and that his training with weapons was rather limited. If there are any remnants of the techniques of Yagyu Shingan-ryu within Ueshiba’s weapons practice, it is as well hidden as the heart-wood of an oak in a living tree.

*Masatake Fujita informed Stanley Pranin that Ueshiba’s practice weapon was referred to as “nuboko.” This is the name of the “heavenly jeweled spear,” of Izanagi and Izanami. I recall a photo in some publication, Ueshiba posing with this sharpened stake, where it was captioned as a “boar spear.” This is quite unlikely, as the boar spear had a cross-piece to keep the stabbed animal from ramming its way up the shaft to slash its attacker.

**That it is unsigned could have any number of implications. I had an unsigned menkyo for a number of years, although my training was absolutely legitimate. Many teachers do not write their own menkyo. My instructor in Toda-ha Buko-ryu had her husband draw up the betsu-mokuroku of the ryu, and she presented it to me in a formal ceremony. It was unsigned. I assumed that there was some special significance to this, and didn’t ask - such a question would be awkward. Some years later, visiting with her, considering the possibility that I would be presenting such menjo to my own students, I did ask her about it and she, quite surprised, said, “You mean I didn’t sign it? Goodness, I must have forgotten!” She quickly went and got a brush, some ink and a seal and backdated it to the date of the original presentation. What could complicate such a situation further, though not in my case, is money. In Ueshiba’s case, it is possible that he had two “bills” to pay. As many people do, he may have had to pay a scribe to write the makimono. Then, to actually receive the seal of his teacher, he may have, as in many ryu, been required to pay the teacher. He may not have had the money to do so. This could have been rather awkward. Rather than visit his teacher and tell him, “I am grateful for the menkyo, and when I get the cash together, I’ll pay you for the seal,” he may have simply drifted away. Lest this seem implausible, I, of course, have a Terry Dobson story to corroborate it. In the late sixties, Terry was informed that he was made yondan. He did not have the money for the certificate. Near the end of his time in Japan, he simply pretended he hadn’t heard. This became a rather awkward situation - years later, the Aikikai not knowing the prosaic reason for his lack of response, apparently interpreted this as willful disinterest. People have speculated such things as Ueshiba being given an “honorary degree,” but he was too young and unimportant for that. It is far more likely that the lack of a seal was due to something similar to what I’ve described above - very simple, all too human - but in no way suggesting that he did not deserve a certificate of middling attainment after a few years of study.

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Ellis Amdur — April 5^th, 2006 (add comment)