Three Inspirational Martial Artists you may never have heard of.
Three historical martial artists who to me could qualify as being inspirational, Mochizuki Minoru, Yamaoka Tesshu and Saigo Shiro.
I have chosen these individuals because, each in their own way, the facts and myths about their lives offer something to motivate aspiring martial artists – they certainly motivated me.
I am not setting them up as perfect human beings, as we all know the saying, ‘never get to know your heroes’. And, I will shamelessly indulge in romanticisation and maybe a bit of hero worship as well, but inspiration is inspiration after all.
Mochizuki Minoru.
This early 20th century Japanese martial arts master’s life looks like a total dream scenario for a martial arts obsessive. Although his early training career was demanding to a level that we can only imagine, he was blessed by the doors that opened for him.
Born in 1906, his stripling years were in Kodokan Judo. As a teenager he struck lucky and was taken on by some amazing early Judo powerhouse instructors, and he was the kind of guy who had it in him to rise to the challenge. His first real instructor was Toku Sanpo (1887 – 1945) one of the greats of the Kodokan. But, after a while Toku ended up handing the young Mochizuki over to that other ‘God of Judo’ Mifune Kyuzo, just on a chance opportunity.
The story is that Mochizuki found out that Mifune was running a Kangeiko (special Winter training) and decided that this was for him. These intense training sessions were notorious in their extremity and it was considered proper and correct that training should be in an unheated Dojo, often savagely cold.
For the Kangeiko, the daily training began at 4am. However, Mochizuki lived on the other side of Tokyo and no tram was available at that time in the morning, so he decided to run it… To make the distance he had to set off at midnight, nearly four hours of running! He would arrive on time, but was always soaked in sweat and needed to rinse off in a well outside the Dojo. He’d been doing this for a while, but one morning he found the bucket was missing; so to wash himself he climbed down into well and had to break the ice to reach the water. As he was emerging, a hand reached down to help him out – it was Mifune Sensei. Mifune immediately realised Mochizuki’s potential and determination and took him under his wing, inviting him to become a live-in student (Uchi Deshi).
Mochizuki’s status rose in the Kodokan, so much so that when the founder, Kano Jigoro, decided to instigate an exploratory group to look into other arts that would benefit the Kodokan and the preservation of Japanese martial culture, Mochizuki was the obvious man.
In a nutshell, Mochizuki was farmed out to Ueshiba Morihei (founder of Aikido) and under him received full transmission scrolls in Aiki-Jujutsu; the same happened with Katori Shinto Ryu swordsmanship and even Okinawan Ryukyu Kobu-jutsu. This was an amazing and unapparelled experience and Mochizuki was able to reap the benefits. Out of these experiences he synthesised a system, Yoseikan Budo, which prides itself on teaching all of the disciplines Mochizuki Sensei mastered. 1
Mochizuki lived to a great age and influenced many martial artists through his personal example and his incredible knowledge.
It may well have been that he was just born at the right time in the right place, but what allowed him to rise in status and ability was that he did the right thing, and he did it with great energy and determination.
Yamaoka Tesshu.
Difficult to describe this eccentric, single-minded 19th century Japanese swordsman. Born in 1836 he was brought up in tumultuous times for Japan, which somehow, in his adult years, he became embroiled in. His force of personality and integrity enabled him to act as key negotiator at certain tricky moments during the Boshin war, thus gaining favour in the imperial court.
But it was his dedication to his preferred arts that is so impressive. There are no words to describe his obsessive approach to swordsmanship, mastering many systems he was a towering, powerful man with a spirit that was indestructible. His Dojo, the Shumpukan, attracted hundreds of swordsmen and his style was noted for spirit over technique; often used as a criticism, but his personal example alone proved that it was a sure-fire way to victory.
He was also a devotee of Zen meditation, typically he never did anything by halves.
His other passion was calligraphy (Shodo), he was incredibly disciplined, it is calculated he produced up to one million pieces of bespoke calligraphy, most of which he just gave away or bequeathed to raise funds for individual projects, all imbued with his personal power; the intensity of the brush strokes is truly terrifying.
It is said that Yamaoka Tesshu achieved enlightenment in his 40’s. Again, not a man to settle for second best.
Wikipedia gives a hint of Yamaoka Tesshu’s complex character by describing him thus, “he became known for four things, swordsmanship, calligraphy, drinking and sleeping”. It doesn’t do him justice, but the last two are written about in John Stevens excellent biography, ‘The Sword of No-Sword’. He was a man of extremes and was undoubtedly known for his excesses, his life was a strange contradiction of severe discipline and outrageous indulgence; perhaps the only man in history who could get away with it.
He died of stomach cancer in 1888, and even in that extreme instance he insisted in doing everything on his terms. He dressed in white, sat himself in Seiza (formal sitting/kneeling), composed his death poem 2 and breathed his last in that position, surrounded by his grieving faithful students. He was 53. Thousands of people attended his funeral.
By modern standards he would be looked upon as a mad, obsessive oddity, even in those days he was. But Yamaoka Tesshu was a force of nature of the like that has never been seen since. His life would make an amazing movie. This is why he is one of my personal heroes.
Next is a man who did have a movie made about his life, and not by some hack minor film maker but none other than the ONLY Japanese director worthy of an almost divine status, Kurosawa Akira; the movie was ‘Sanshiro Sugata’, after that, six more movies, five TV series and a whole stack of Manga comics were produced; famous in Japan but hardly heard of in the West. This is:
Saigo Shiro.
I am reluctant to describe Saigo as a ‘hero’ because of his bad boy status, but heck, what an inspiration as a fighter.
Saigo Shiro (1866 – 1922) was well under five foot tall and not particularly heavily built. Growing up he was a ragamuffin troublemaker, a wild spirit, always scrapping, something he never gave up. He somehow fell in as a live-in student at the Kodokan, where founder of Judo, Kano Jigoro saw something in the diminutive hot-head.
He was an amazingly talented fighter, with an indomitable spirit.
Stories abound about his martial origins, where did he learn these skills? Various factors tried to claim him. Somewhere along the line was involved in Daito Ryu (the forerunner of Aikido), but exactly how, nobody has been able to pin down. Did his skills come from natural ability alone, or had he already mastered techniques that were ‘insider’ strategies from Daito Ryu or other Old School Jujutsu Ryu? He had a spooky natural ability with weapons, which for some people suggested he had clearly learned something from somewhere.
It is said that he had to only be shown a technique once and he’d not only mastered it, he’d improved it (for ‘improved’ I’d say more ‘personalised’). He had a specialist throw, which was called ‘Yama Arashi’ or ‘Mountain Storm’, it was his, nobody could figure out how he did it; Judo people think they know the mechanics of it but what he did was so personalised that it is impossible to recreate; you had to BE Saigo to do it.
Add to all this his acrobatic physical skills; at the time those who saw him reached for comparisons and nicknames; he was at one time a ‘cat’ because he could be thrown and then suddenly twist in the air and land perfectly on his feet, he was an ’octopus’ because his feet would just stick to the floor, making him immovable in randori. Kano sparred with Saigo endlessly (they all did, that was the regime at the Kodokan) but Kano found he had to run to keep up with Saigo’s ability to stymie or reverse his techniques; Kano the master was learning from Saigo as much as he was giving – which I always admired Kano for.
By the time he was 21 he was a 5th Dan in Judo (in fact, Kano jumped him straight from 3rd to 5th Dan, he was that impressed) This was hardly ever heard of at the Kodokan.
At a certain point Saigo’s history becomes murky. After being Kano’s go-to guy for dealing with challenge matches on which the reputation of the Kodokan rested, suddenly he was expelled. The reasons were not specified but, speculation was that something had happened related to Saigo’s habit of brawling.
His history after that point suggests he travelled extensively, involved with ultra-Nationalists, spies, revolutionaries in China and Taiwan and other locations in Asia. He then emerges as editor in chief of an extreme right-wing newspaper and war correspondent. He settled down eventually and dedicated his time to Kyudo (archery) but he never gave up the habit of drinking and fighting. He died at the age of 56.
You can see I am a big fan of Saigo Shiro as a martial artist, but as a man he was his own worst enemy, he was like an uncontrolled explosion. I wonder what a modern psychotherapist would make of Saigo Shiro, because clearly it goes deeper than ‘little man syndrome’. He would have been an interesting person to meet, though I doubt he would have liked me; he really hated Westerners.
In conclusion.
Maybe there’s a common thread in all three examples? For me, the key word is ‘inspirational’ and with these three the inspiration comes in the form of a call to action. This was about dedication and total absorption.
All three threw themselves into their chosen disciplines with body and soul. I am reminded of Ido Portal’s words, ‘Let your passion become an obsession’, that’s certainly the case here.
Personally, whenever I find myself taking my foot off the gas, I think about these guys, the Kangeiko that Mochizuki put himself through; the marathon training sessions that occurred in Yamaoka Tesshu’s Shumpukan Dojo where training was deliberately intense, as he believed that this was the only way to achieve mind and body in total harmony (he was probably the originator of the idea of the 100 man kumite that the Kyokushinkai people are so fond of, only his was 200 matches completed after a thousand days of continuous training; and that was only level one!). And, of course Saigo’s ferocious battling and non-stop training and his refusal to be beaten.
So, whenever the temptation is to maybe give training a miss, settle down with a glass of something and a boxset binge, I think about these three characters, and they become a kind of talisman, a touchstone.
Too hot outside… train, too cold… train. That’s all there is to it.
Image sources: Mochizuki Minoru, ‘Fighting Arts International’ Edition No.55 1988. Yamaoka Tesshu, John Stevens book, ‘The Sword of No-Sword’. Saigo Shiro, image from John Stevens book, ‘The Way of Judo – A portrait of Jigoro Kano’.
Mochizuki Minoru 1906 – 2003. 10th dan, Meijin Aikido, IMAF, 9th dan jujutsu 8th dan Iaijutsu 8th dan Judo, 5th dan Kendo, 5th dan, Karate. Information source: ‘Fighting Arts International’ Edition No.55 1988 Interview.
The Haiku was, “Tightening my abdomen - against the pain – the caw of a morning crow”. At the time this was quite controversial as the word ‘pain’ was never used in death poems.