During a time of anti-violent movements, George Ledyard stumbled upon an aikido demonstration while living in Washington DC. After watching the demonstration and talking with the leader of the group, Mitsugi Saotome, Ledyard was convinced to try out a class. From that moment, he was hooked. As the years went by, Ledyard trained in other martial arts to better his aiki, opened his Aikido Eastside in 1989, and has thought a great deal about the future of aikido. Today, Ledyard took some time to speak with us about those thoughts and his experiences. This interview is the second part of a two part interview. Read the first part here.
MAYTT: Best of luck with the changeover. Hopefully it is positive and prosperous. With the passing and retirement of the last of O-Sensei’s direct students here in the United States, who should American aikidoka look up to, if anyone at all?
GL: Let’s throw in some Latin here: caveat emptor; “Let the buyer beware.” If you look around, people often remark on the fact that none of O-Sensei’s students really measured up to him. It’s not surprising because he was a genius – a once-in-a-generation martial artist. But he did turn out some extraordinarily good people. Then, if you look around and ask yourself, of these people, whether it’s Saotome Sensei or Chiba Sensei, how many of them have turned out students that look to be able to step into their shoes? I don’t know.
If you take that and look at the first American teachers, the pioneers, the Doran senseis, the Mary Heiny senseis, the Nadeau senseis, and then you go down the list, you have to ask: How many of them have turned out anyone that looks to be able to step into their shoes, both technically or inspirationally as a leader, however you want to look at it? There aren’t very many. In some cases, they didn’t turn out anybody that looks to be able to step into their shoes and be the kind of technical leader that they had been. And that has real implications for the future of aikido.
I can’t speak for every teacher I’ve mentioned, but each of them has one or two standout students who seem poised to carry on their legacy. Identifying these individuals is crucial for the future of aikido. When I started my aikido journey, both at the dojo with Saotome Sensei and later in Seattle, there was a clear pipeline of students being groomed to take on leadership roles. However, my move to Seattle was not initially well-received by Saotome Sensei, who preferred that I train with Mary Heiny Sensei, whom he knew from Japan. Nonetheless, I joined Mary Sensei’s dojo upon relocating to Seattle for work.
This passing of the torch to promising students ensures the continuity of the art and its teachings. It’s essential for the sustainability and growth of aikido as a martial art. The question of who will step up to fill these leadership roles in the future is paramount, especially as the current generation of senior instructors continues to age. The dedication and aptitude of these standout students will play a significant role in shaping the direction of aikido in the years to come.
At our dojo in DC, the serious practitioners were training pretty much every day. We had class six days a week, and I even had a key to the dojo, allowing me to go in on Sundays for solo weapons work. When I visited Mary Sensei’s dojo in Seattle, I found that people were training at least four or five days a week, sometimes even more. The truly dedicated individuals were training almost every day and would also practice on their own. That’s how the generation of practitioners who have achieved sixth and seventh dans trained – diligently and consistently under the guidance of their shihan.
However, these days, it’s almost impossible to find people who train with that level of dedication as serious students. Even at my own dojo, the serious students train three times a week, which isn’t enough to pass on everything that was passed on to us by our teachers. This shift in training frequency has real implications for the depth and breadth of knowledge that can be transmitted from one generation to the next in aikido.
Saotome Sensei has developed an extensive repertoire that includes martial applications, weapons work with the sword and jo, and various other techniques beyond the basic kihon waza. He passed down this wealth of knowledge to us, his students. However, I now find myself in a dilemma where I struggle to pass on these advanced teachings to others. The issue lies in the lack of consistent training among students. Even my most dedicated students may not train enough to absorb and master the intricate weapon techniques and other advanced aspects that Saotome Sensei imparted to us.
Attempting to teach the more specialized weapon techniques could detract from the time needed to focus on mastering the fundamental aiki skills in empty-hand techniques. As a result, much of this advanced knowledge risks being lost over time. When my generation of practitioners, who directly trained with Saotome Sensei, fades away, there will be few individuals left capable of teaching these techniques. It’s a concerning realization that highlights the importance of consistent training and dedication to preserving the depth and richness of aikido’s teachings for future generations.
I made a conscious effort to establish a comprehensive program to preserve everything that Saotome Sensei passed on to us. Ensuring that his teachings were documented, I organized seminars and brought in experts to capture his forms and techniques on video. For instance, I invited Robert Deppe Sensei from Washington, DC, who had a deep understanding of Sensei’s patrol and attack forms for the jo. These forms, created by Sensei, were not widely known even within our organization, and it was crucial to prevent them from fading into obscurity.
Additionally, I invited Wendy Whited Sensei, may she rest in peace, to share her expertise in the two-attacker sword forms that Sensei had developed. These forms, akin to those found in Morihiro Saito Sensei’s books, offered valuable insights into Sensei’s teachings. Personally, I dedicated significant time to mastering Sensei’s sword forms to the best of my ability. The culmination of these efforts was capturing all these teachings on video, ensuring that they would be preserved for future generations.
My hope is that these recordings will serve as a valuable resource for serious practitioners with a solid foundation in aikido. By reconnecting with these teachings, future generations can continue to explore and expand upon Sensei’s legacy, preventing his invaluable contributions to aikido from disappearing over time.
To a significant extent, I believe that many of the practices embraced by my generation may not endure once we are no longer here. Aikido will likely become more straightforward, shedding some of its complexity. Saotome Sensei’s emphasis on martial application, particularly his concept of koppo, striking vital points, is distinctively his own. However, it’s often overlooked, especially since it’s not part of the standard black belt test. Many practitioners prefer to focus solely on what’s required for testing, rather than exploring broader aspects of the art.
During my early training with Sensei, there was no formal testing; instead, we immersed ourselves in continuous practice. Sensei didn’t confine us to basic techniques; we delved into a variety of martial practices, ranging from soft, Tai Chi-like movements to intense sessions involving strikes and atemi, which are combination strikes seldom emphasized in aikido today. Sensei’s teaching method was dynamic, alternating between soft and hard approaches, ensuring a well-rounded understanding of aikido’s martial aspects.
Unfortunately, in contemporary aikido, many instructors and students prioritize test requirements over comprehensive training. Consequently, aspects of aikido that aren’t part of the test syllabus often receive minimal attention. Instructors, burdened with maintaining proficiency in tested techniques, may neglect broader martial practices that were once integral to aikido training. This trend concerns me, as it risks diluting the depth and richness of the art, potentially diminishing its effectiveness and authenticity in the process.
I’m certain that Bruce Bookman Sensei acquired a wealth of knowledge from Chiba Sensei, some of which he may or may not be able to pass on fully. Many of the top practitioners have engaged in cross training, integrating elements from various martial arts into their aikido practice. While they may not transmit everything they received from their teachers, they likely bring new insights into the art from other sources.
Bookman Sensei, for instance, has a strong foundation in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and has competed extensively in the discipline. His ability to offer both Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and aikido at his dojo has contributed significantly to its success. This dual offering caters to a broader audience and provides economic stability, a valuable asset for any dojo in today’s climate.
MAYTT: How did you approach managing your dojo?
GL: A significant factor influencing the direction of aikido today is the demand from students. Economic considerations play a crucial role, particularly given the high rents associated with operating a dojo. In the current landscape, there has been an adjustment in aikido to align with what students desire. This adaptation is understandable, considering the need to attract and retain practitioners to sustain a dojo financially.
However, this approach differs from the traditional model I experienced when starting aikido with Sensei. Back then, aikido remained unchanged, and students were expected to adapt to its teachings. There was no effort to modify the art to accommodate the preferences or limitations of individuals. It was a matter of either embracing Sensei’s instruction or choosing to pursue a different path. This contrast underscores the evolution in aikido’s approach over the years.
In discussions about dojo management, various topics arise, including the importance of diversity and inclusivity. While these are valid considerations, they can impact training dynamics. Each time there’s an effort to incorporate a more marginalized group into training, it inevitably alters the training environment. In my own dojo, I’ve made a deliberate choice not to prioritize such changes. Instead, my focus has been on passing down the teachings I received.
As a result of this approach, my dojo has remained smaller compared to others run by my peers. Some of them have opted for different strategies, leading to larger student populations in their dojos. While our approaches may differ, I believe it’s essential for each instructor to choose the path that aligns best with their values and goals for their students’ training.
My interest has always been centered on the transmission of what I learned from Saotome Sensei. He created something called the Ueshiba Juku, a term referring to O-Sensei’s first dojo in the late 1920s or early 1930s. Saotome Sensei believed this symbolized the direct transmission of aikido from O-Sensei to him and then to us, his closest senior students. It was separate from dan ranks and held significant personal meaning.
I recall the moment I received my gi with the Ueshiba Juku characters on it. I asked Sensei if this meant I would one day pass it on to my own students, and he confirmed that was indeed the intention. Although I haven’t carried out this tradition yet, I plan to honor Sensei’s wishes and pass it on to a couple of my students after his passing.
The Ueshiba Juku gi represents a lineage and a direct connection to the origins of aikido. It’s a reminder of the responsibility we have as teachers to preserve and transmit the teachings we’ve received from our own instructors. This tradition underscores the importance of personal transmission and the continuation of aikido’s legacy for future generations.
MAYTT: What were your feelings when you taught at your dojo?
GL: As a teacher, I often found myself adapting my lesson plans based on who showed up to class on any given night. While I might have ideas about what to teach, the composition of the group would dictate the direction of the session. It’s essential to tailor the training to the needs and capabilities of the students present. This sense of responsibility guides my approach to teaching, and I believe it’s a common practice among instructors across the country.
One individual I admire for his effective approach is Bookman Sensei. He has skillfully incorporated various training methods into his program. For a period, he integrated boxing fundamentals into his aikido practice until health concerns prompted him to pivot to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Despite this adjustment, Bookman Sensei has maintained a robust training regimen that enhances his aikido teachings. His ability to demonstrate how aikido techniques can be effective against practitioners of other martial arts lends credibility to his instruction.
The evolving landscape of martial arts training necessitates adaptability. Bookman Sensei’s example illustrates the importance of cross training and how it can enrich aikido practice. By embracing diverse training methods, practitioners can deepen their understanding of martial arts principles and refine their skills over time. This holistic approach not only benefits individual practitioners but also elevates the overall perception of aikido within the martial arts community.
He does have a significant number of young people training, particularly in his large kids’ program, and he’s successfully integrating some of these individuals into the adult classes. This transition from the kids’ program to the adult classes has been somewhat challenging for us. While we’ve seen a few kids progress all the way to adult black belt, it’s uncertain whether they continue training after heading off to college, given the numerous distractions they face.
To address this challenge, we need to find ways to cultivate more individuals in the pipeline. It’s concerning to visit dojos where the average age hovers around the mid-forties without many individuals in their twenties. This demographic disparity inevitably alters the training dynamic, regardless of any desired changes in training approach.
While we’ve made efforts to bridge this gap, there’s still work to be done in attracting and retaining younger practitioners. It’s a critical aspect of ensuring the longevity and vibrancy of aikido communities.
MAYTT: Where do you see aiki weapons training in the general practice of aikido?
GL: I believe that one aspect often neglected in aikido is weapons training. Many practitioners either avoid it because they don’t enjoy it or lack confidence in their skills. This reluctance often stems from the fact that their instructors may not have been proficient in weapons work themselves, leading to a perception that their own training in this area is rudimentary and not worth teaching. However, I consider this unfortunate because weapons training offers valuable insights and benefits, especially as practitioners age.
As individuals advance in years, there comes a point where certain aspects of training become impractical or potentially harmful. For instance, taking heavy breakfalls or subjecting joints to extreme stress may not be advisable for older practitioners. In such cases, weapons training can offer a way to continue exploring the essence of aikido without putting undue strain on the body. It provides an avenue for practitioners in their seventies or eighties to push themselves mentally and energetically, even if the physical demands are reduced.
Moreover, weapons work allows practitioners to access the core principles and techniques of aikido in a less physically demanding manner. While the movements may be gentler on the body, the mental engagement and energetic connection remain just as vital. Therefore, I advocate for a greater emphasis on weapons training within the aikido community, recognizing its potential to enrich practitioners’ understanding and practice of the art, particularly as they age.
In my dojo, I place significant emphasis on sword work, particularly the practice of kenjutsu. I believe it offers a unique avenue for practitioners to delve into the martial aspects of aikido while maintaining a gentler pace in empty hand techniques. This allows students to focus more on connection and the principles of aiki. For those seeking to preserve the martial edge of their training, incorporating weapons work can be invaluable. It ensures that practitioners continue to develop as martial artists, even if they opt for a slower or more moderate approach in other aspects of their practice.
However, for individuals who have been training for several decades or are already teaching, deciding to prioritize weapons work later in their journey may pose challenges. It’s not something that can be easily integrated if it hasn’t been a consistent focus throughout their training. Many dojos, including those led by esteemed instructors like Mary Heiny Sensei, have historically placed less emphasis on weapons training. While some basic forms may be included in testing requirements, paired weapons work often receives minimal attention.
In contrast, looking back to the era of O-Sensei and his uchi deshi, weapons training was an integral part of aikido practice. These dedicated students often engaged in specialized classes focused solely on weapons techniques, facilitated by experienced instructors. However, in contemporary aikido practice, the prominence of weapons training varies widely among different schools and instructors. Some have maintained a robust emphasis on weapons, while others have all but abandoned it from their curriculum.
When you observe someone like Saotome Sensei, you can’t help but wonder about the origins of his techniques. He seamlessly integrates elements from various martial traditions, such as Kashima Shinto-ryu and Yagyu-ryu, into his aikido practice. Similarly, Chiba Sensei and Shizuo Imaizumi Sensei exhibit a diverse range of influences, with Imaizumi Sensei possessing an extensive repertoire of jodo forms despite not being formally trained in the art.
Even seasoned aikido historians like Stan Pranin have difficulty pinpointing the exact sources of these influences. When I inquired about this to Saotome Sensei, he acknowledged the existence of such training but provided limited details. In my view, it’s plausible that O-Sensei, due to his stature and connections in the martial arts community, may have arranged for instructors from various koryu schools to work with his students.
It’s conceivable that O-Sensei facilitated these arrangements discreetly, respecting the hierarchical norms of Japanese martial arts. In such scenarios, instructors from koryu schools would visit and conduct training sessions with Kisshomaru and O-Sensei. After the guest instructors departed, O-Sensei would then further refine and develop the techniques with his son, Kisshomaru.
This approach allowed O-Sensei to incorporate diverse martial influences into aikido while maintaining the integrity of his art. It speaks to his openness to learning from different traditions and his commitment to evolving aikido in line with his vision. While the specifics of these interactions remain shrouded in mystery, they undoubtedly contributed to the richness and depth of aikido as we know it today.
When delving into the training methods of the deshi, particularly in koryu schools, there’s an inherent code of secrecy surrounding their teachings. The deshi who engaged in such training were typically bound by strict vows of confidentiality. Thus, when probing for details about their experiences, they often remained evasive or vague, despite possessing a wealth of anecdotes about their time with O-Sensei. However, there have been rare instances, usually under the influence of alcohol, where some deshi have hinted at the existence of clandestine training sessions. For example, my student Kevin Lamb once recounted how Imaizumi Sensei, in a moment of candor at a party, acknowledged the occurrence of such training without divulging specifics.
During O-Sensei’s era, these covert training sessions were considered integral to aikido’s development. However, as Kisshomaru assumed leadership, they were gradually downplayed and eventually disregarded altogether. Today, the emphasis on weapons training has significantly diminished within mainstream aikido circles, with only a few factions, such as the Iwama practitioners, actively preserving this aspect of the art. Individual teachers, like Chiba Sensei and Saotome Sensei, have also contributed to maintaining the tradition of weapons work within their respective schools.
Nevertheless, even within our own organization, there’s been a noticeable decline in the prominence of weapons training. This trend is regrettable, as I firmly believe that weapons practice offers a means to challenge and invigorate senior practitioners. By keeping the focus on weapons proficiency, we can ensure that the older generation remains engaged and motivated to continue their aikido journey with vigor and dedication.
MAYTT: That is unfortunate that weapons work is being deemphasized because weapons work has so much to offer aikidoka. You touched upon this previously where the definition of aikido is fluid and based solely on the person or organization teaching it. What do you think should be the standard definition for aikido – having everyone be on the same page – moving forward.
GL: Achieving universal agreement within the aikido community would certainly be desirable, but I’m doubtful it’s achievable. Throughout aikido’s history, there has never been complete consensus, and I believe that’s just the nature of the art. O-Sensei’s teaching methods evolved over time, spanning from the late 1920s through the 1930s, with significant shifts occurring, particularly during World War II when he was in Iwama with Saito Sensei as his primary deshi. During this period, they refined what would later become the foundational kihon waza of aikido.
Saito Sensei played a pivotal role in this process and was widely acknowledged as a key authority by his peers. Even luminaries like Chiba Sensei deferred to Saito’s expertise in certain areas. O-Sensei himself underwent a transformation, transitioning from his roots in Daito-ryu to the development of aiki-budo, which laid the groundwork for what we recognize today as aikido. However, despite these foundational efforts, achieving a unified approach to aikido has remained elusive.
The diversity within aikido stems from its rich history and the myriad influences that have shaped its evolution. While it would be ideal to find common ground among practitioners, the reality is that aikido has always been characterized by a variety of interpretations and approaches. Rather than striving for uniformity, perhaps we should embrace and celebrate the unique perspectives that contribute to the richness and depth of our art.
During the early stages of aikido’s development, there were key moments that shaped its identity. For instance, the name “aikido” itself was coined by a committee in 1942, rather than directly by O-Sensei. When the war ended and we entered the post-war era in the early 1950s, figures like Saito Sensei played pivotal roles in defining the foundational techniques of aikido as we know them today. This period saw a convergence of ideas among practitioners about the direction aikido would take, particularly regarding basic techniques.
It’s worth noting that the post-war landscape also saw the return of prominent figures like Rinjiro Shirata Sensei, who had been thought deceased during the war. Shirata Sensei’s reappearance at Hombu Dojo in the late 1940s was a significant event, considering his stature in the aikido community. He was deeply immersed in aikido from its early days and remained closely connected to the art, showcasing a profound understanding of both weapons and empty-hand techniques.
Shirata Sensei’s approach exemplified a seamless integration of weapons and empty-hand techniques, reflecting a perspective that saw no distinction between the two. His dedication to aikido and its core principles underscored a continuity in training methods that emphasized the holistic nature of the art. Despite the divergent paths taken by some of O-Sensei’s early students, figures like Shirata Sensei remained steadfast in their commitment to aikido’s unified essence.
In the post-war era, particularly at Hombu Dojo, there was a notable shift away from the continuity that characterized earlier aikido training. Those who possessed a comprehensive background in both weapons work and empty-hand techniques, along with a focus on practical application, found themselves in a unique position. The ability to effectively apply aikido techniques in real-world situations became a defining factor, especially when faced with practitioners from other martial arts disciplines.
Older generations of aikido practitioners were expected to demonstrate proficiency in applied aikido. This meant being able to handle oneself in encounters with practitioners from diverse martial arts backgrounds. O-Sensei himself encouraged this practical approach, dispatching his students worldwide to introduce aikido to communities already steeped in martial arts traditions. The expectation was clear: if you couldn’t hold your own, you wouldn’t gain respect or attract students.
However, over time, this emphasis on practical application diminished, particularly at Hombu Dojo. Training focused less on scenarios involving non-aikido practitioners, and there was little to no emphasis on what could be termed “applied aikido.” The absence of such training raises questions about how aikido would fare outside of controlled aikido-to-aikido contexts.
Certain individuals, like Saotome Sensei and other seasoned practitioners from earlier generations, possessed the ability to demonstrate aikido’s effectiveness beyond the confines of aikido practice. Their skills and experience allowed them to navigate encounters with practitioners from other martial arts backgrounds confidently. However, the broader trend within the aikido community suggests a departure from this practical orientation, which has implications for how aikido is perceived and practiced today.
Dan Messisco Sensei, one of our seventh dans, had a notable background in Tang Soo Do, being recognized as one of the top practitioners in the United States. In the early 1970s, before Saotome Sensei’s arrival, he visited Hombu Dojo out of curiosity about different martial arts styles. During Sensei’s class, his distinct movement caught Saotome Sensei’s attention immediately, prompting him to inquire about Dan’s background. Dan candidly mentioned his experience in Tang Soo Do, which intrigued Sensei.
At the end of the class, Saotome Sensei approached Dan with great interest, recognizing the potential in someone with a different martial arts background. Sensing an opportunity to test Dan’s skills, Sensei requested him to attack. Initially, Dan approached cautiously, adhering to martial arts etiquette with a modest level of force. However, Sensei urged him to unleash his full intensity, encouraging Dan to attack with everything he had.
In response, Dan launched a relentless assault, exerting all his strength and skill in an attempt to engage Sensei. Despite his best efforts, he found himself unable to make any contact with Sensei, who effortlessly evaded each attack with astonishing agility and precision. This encounter left a lasting impression on Dan, illustrating Sensei’s remarkable ability to neutralize even the most determined opponents with apparent ease.
The proficiency in aikido techniques and movements has indeed seen significant development over the years, both in the United States and globally. However, what seems to be lacking is a robust emphasis on the practical application of these techniques, particularly in scenarios where the situation diverges from the traditional aikido form. Many practitioners have honed their skills to masterful levels within the structured framework of aikido practice, but there’s often a gap when it comes to applying these principles in real-world situations.
Even in Japan, the birthplace of aikido, there’s been a noticeable decline in the emphasis on practical application. This shift has led to a generation of practitioners who excel in executing Aikido techniques within the confines of the dojo but struggle when faced with the challenge of adapting these techniques in practical contexts. It raises a critical question: Can these well-practiced aikido movements be effectively applied when the situation demands it?
The essence of aikido lies not just in the execution of techniques but also in the ability to apply its underlying principles dynamically and effectively. Mastery of aikido should encompass not only technical proficiency but also a deep understanding of how to employ these techniques in real-world scenarios where the dynamics may vary from the controlled environment of the dojo. It’s a facet of aikido training that warrants greater attention and focus to ensure that practitioners can confidently apply their skills beyond the confines of traditional practice.
During my seminars in Europe, particularly in Holland and Switzerland, I encountered participants with backgrounds in various martial arts, not just aikido. One individual in Switzerland, despite being relatively new to aikido, demonstrated remarkable skill. When I attempted to disrupt his balance, he quickly recovered and was poised to retaliate with another punch. It became evident that he wasn’t a novice, so I inquired about his background. After some persuasion, he revealed that he had ten years of experience in Isshin-ryu Karate.
As we engaged further, he remarked that I was among the few aikido instructors he encountered who could effectively apply techniques in a realistic setting. This compliment stemmed from my training under Saotome Sensei, who emphasized striking and combination strikes, unlike traditional aikido instruction. However, our interaction led to an amusing realization that while I enjoyed practicing with him, he wouldn’t be suitable for demonstrating basic techniques like ikkyo during class. His instinctive response to counter would disrupt the flow of the demonstration.
Reflecting on his experiences with other aikido instructors, he acknowledged the importance of adapting his attacks to align with the teacher’s objectives during seminars. His natural inclination to counter immediately wouldn’t facilitate the demonstration of fundamental techniques. This realization prompted a humorous recollection of an encounter with Seishiro Endo Sensei, where his instinctive response likely didn’t align with the seminar’s objectives. Ultimately, our exchange highlighted the need for students to adjust their attacks to support the teaching goals of aikido seminars.
It’s amusing in a way because when you’re at an advanced level, practitioners often struggle to execute their techniques against you. Despite this, I thoroughly enjoyed working with them. One individual in Holland approached me after the seminar and revealed that he had been contemplating quitting aikido due to dissatisfaction. However, after experiencing our training methods and the techniques I learned from Saotome Sensei, he decided to stick with it. This feedback made me feel good, knowing that our approach offered him something beyond what he had previously encountered.
However, it also highlighted the scarcity of such training methods outside specific environments. I realized that unless individuals are willing to train with those who have learned from instructors like Saotome Sensei, finding similar training elsewhere can be challenging. It’s not just about sticking it out; it’s about finding a dojo where such training methods are encouraged and prioritized.
I had a student from the East Coast of the US who used to travel to Seattle twice a year for intensive training with me. He cherished the experience but faced resistance when he tried to integrate what he learned into his local dojo’s practice. Despite his enthusiasm for our methods, his teachers dismissed them, stating, “We don’t do that here.” Eventually, he left and joined Systema because he couldn’t find the training he sought within aikido.
It was disheartening to see someone leave because they couldn’t find a dojo that aligned with their training preferences. It made me realize the importance of fostering an environment where students feel supported and encouraged to explore different training methodologies.
MAYTT: That is unfortunate. The quality of aikido sometimes is not up to par from what a lot of other practitioners are used to. Like you said, you are stuck doing basics and there is no space for the students to grow.
GL: It’s a challenging situation, and honestly, I’m not sure I have a solution because the current demographic is vastly different from my generation. Back then, during the Vietnam War era, almost everyone I knew was involved in some capacity with the anti-war movement. A martial art that promoted nonviolence and offered alternatives to harming your partner resonated deeply with us. However, today’s youth seem more inclined towards combat. I noticed this shift when the movie Fight Club was released, portraying individuals engaging in brutal fights for entertainment. This was starkly different from how my generation viewed such behavior; we would have considered it an anomaly.
This fascination with combat has evolved into the phenomenon of mixed martial arts (MMA), which has become a multibillion-dollar industry. It’s challenging for traditional martial arts like aikido to compete with the widespread visibility of MMA, which is broadcasted on prime-time TV almost every night. No amount of advertising or promotional efforts could counteract the allure of MMA, accessible with just a click of a remote.
In my opinion, aikido’s appeal lies in its philosophy of harmony and non-violence, which may not resonate as strongly with today’s generation as it did with mine. The challenge lies in finding ways to adapt and promote aikido’s unique values in a world increasingly drawn to combat sports and physical confrontation.
The current trend seems to be a fascination with fighting and competition, which aikido doesn’t align with. This is not just an issue for aikido; traditional martial arts in general are facing declining numbers. If you browse YouTube and read the comments, it’s evident that people have formed opinions about these arts based on a flawed understanding. They believe that MMA is superior, but they’re missing out on the depth and effectiveness of traditional martial arts.
Take, for example, Kenji Ushiro Sensei, the karate teacher who was at the Aiki Expo. He possesses a level of skill that most MMA practitioners have never encountered. He can enter your space in such a way that you’re rendered unable to move or counterattack. Unfortunately, many individuals haven’t had the opportunity to train with someone of his caliber. Instead, their martial arts experience has been focused on athleticism, strength, and endurance, with an emphasis on absorbing punishment.
The martial arts practitioners I’ve trained with are on a different level. They possess a level of skill and power that is both humbling and awe-inspiring. A single strike from them could be lethal if they chose it to be. These are not individuals who engage in flashy displays of athleticism; they are masters of control and precision.
I believe that the core understanding of aikido and other traditional arts resonates with what Gichin Funakoshi once said: “One punch, one death.” It’s about recognizing the potential lethality of your techniques and choosing a different path. However, this concept is often misunderstood by outsiders. When you read comments online, it’s clear that many people don’t grasp the conscious choice aikido practitioners make not to inflict harm.
Explaining aikido is challenging because it’s incredibly complex and takes a long time to master. On the other hand, MMA can seem more straightforward and accessible, with the promise of rapid progress. I had a promising student who, despite our efforts, left aikido to join a local MMA gym. Within six months, his new teacher deemed him ready to compete. However, MMA training, while intense, often lacks the depth and subtlety of aikido.
The biggest challenge for aikido is the lack of patience among practitioners. Many are drawn to the quick rewards offered by other martial arts. When I began my aikido journey, I understood that mastery would take time and dedication. However, in today’s fast-paced world, instant gratification often outweighs the value of patience and long-term growth in the martial arts.
I have a passion for Japanese woodblock prints and even collect them. Studying their history, I’ve noticed a similarity in transmission methods between this art form and traditional Japanese systems like aikido. When I first started aikido, my teachers emphasized the Japanese model, which required a commitment of at least ten years. Ellis Amdur Sensei, from whom I learned about koryu, reiterated this principle. Mastery wasn’t expected within a decade, but it was deemed necessary to absorb the principles to a decent level.
However, conveying this expectation to today’s students is challenging. In an era where instant gratification is prevalent, suggesting a decade-long commitment seems unfathomable. People can join a mixed martial arts gym, feel proficient within months, and start competing shortly after. The idea of dedicating ten years to aikido appears alien to them.
The dilemma lies in attracting younger generations willing to make the commitment. While older practitioners may understand and uphold the traditional values, there’s a lack of interest from the youth. Finding a solution to bridge this generational gap is perplexing. I’m unsure about the path forward in addressing this issue.
MAYTT: Maybe there will be a cultural shift that demonstrates something negative about BJJ or MMA and then there would be a flip backwards. What would be the answer to that?
GL: Yeah, I don’t think anybody knows what the answer is. All of us have been trying to deal with these issues all along. I’ve taught aikido since my teachers passed their knowledge to me. When encountering individuals with solid martial arts backgrounds, they’ve shown great respect for what I do. Take Bookman Sensei, for instance; he’s cross-trained and can handle himself. While his aikido may differ from mine, in a fight, he’s someone I’d want right next to me because he can execute his techniques effectively.
Chiba Sensei, Saotome Sensei, and others from their generation believed in the martial efficacy of aikido. They engaged in real-world tests of their skills. During the occupation period, they’d sneak out to bars, get into fights with American military personnel, all to validate their training. Even though O-Sensei would scold them upon their return to the Hombu Dojo, he’d secretly inquired, “Did you win?” It showed that, despite his admonishments, he wanted to ensure his students could defend themselves.
This spirit persisted into the 1970s, especially in cities like New York. Martial arts giants like Moses Powell, who ran dojos in San Francisco and New York, faced challenges regularly. Opening a dojo meant inviting challenges, and instructors had to demonstrate their skills. Powell, with his aikijujutsu background, was known as a formidable fighter, emblematic of a time when martial arts training meant being prepared for real combat situations.
Now, they might not have been as sophisticated in their martial arts as later generations who trained extensively in Okinawa for years. Most of these early martial artists were ex-military personnel who encountered their teachers overseas, trained diligently, and returned with newfound skills. Back then, achieving even a nidan rank was significant, as there weren’t many seniors, making you a big deal. However, toughness and the ability to back up your claims were essential; otherwise, nobody would train with you.
This principle held true in Japan during the 1920s and 1930s. If someone entered a dojo and defeated the instructor in front of their students, it would drive students away. The credibility of the instructor was crucial; students wanted to train with someone who could demonstrate their skills effectively.
If we consider aikido today, it’s rare to find dojos where the instructor can handle someone with a solid martial arts background who walks in. The emphasis in many dojos has shifted, and over the years, the art has evolved. Thus, any assessment of aikido’s future must consider who is transmitting the art and what is being transmitted. Unfortunately, there are few places dedicated to preserving the older style of training.
MAYTT: This was a great conversation, Ledyard Sensei!
GL: It was a pleasure!
This interview is the second part of a two part interview. Read the first part here.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 