In these times of great tension, we increasingly hear about the call to arms.

Nations and peoples find themselves not ready in the face of a crisis of global proportions, believing they can solve it by deploying armies and reserves, or ultimately resorting to a collective call to arms

The madness of war, and the substantial impotence of any army when faced with nuclear deterrence, should persuade even the most hawkish supporters of the military option to make real efforts to guarantee all sides a cessation of conflict and the restoration of lasting peace. This applies to every war -there are many- although most are overshadowed by the ones most covered in the media.

In the face of this threat, human beings begin to question themselves, revealing their most basic mechanisms.

Against such scenarios, a martial arts practitioner can use what is often seen as a pleasant pastime -the practice itself- to contribute in their own way. How?

Aikido, in particular, is a system whose teaching structure is deeply rooted in the study of buki-waza, the weapons. Practice that lacks the contribution of the staff (jo), the sword (bokken), and the knife (tanken) is ultimately unbalanced and impoverished. Certainly useful, but incomplete.

The interpretation popularized by John Stevens, the most influential Western Aikido author, shaped by a New Age and post-1968 perspective, has spread the idea that Aikido is “The Art of Peace”. This is true to some extent -but only if certain concrete aspects are understood.

Of course, one does not need to relive Morihei Ueshiba’s same experiences to grasp the essence of Aikido or its values in depth. Each practitioner has his/her own unrepeatable journey. Yet the values transmitted through technical language represent what we label as tradition which, by adapting to people from different times and places, supports them in better defining their individuality.

But it is still necessary to experience martiality in some form -not its caricature, but its essence. That essence is found in the definitiveness of a movement expressed with weapons.

Nothing highlights error -or correctness- more than training with weapons: posture, line of attack, and integration of movement into the body.

Simple though it may sound, nothing develops awareness more than paired work with weapons. One clearly sees who is attacking, who is receiving, and which components of listening and clarity must exist in both polarities of conflict, so that conflict may become an opportunity for growth.

In Aikido, the… call to arms becomes an opportunity for clarity -toward oneself and toward one’s partners. One realizes, for example, that even while applying the same motor patterns as in empty-handed techniques (tai jutsu), movements often diverge. That supposed competence and mastery we think we possess often turns out to be disjointed, compartmentalized, and lacking in flow.

In the end, if we are not careful, the tatami mirrors the world we live in: a world of verticalized expertise that does not communicate, a world that has forgotten to put human beings at the center, and with them the humanism that fueled the Renaissance -shaping people who were competent across disciplines and who could express beauty.

On a smaller scale, if we fail to pay constant attention, the tatami reflects the larger perversion that is dragging the world toward yet another war. This is what we earlier described as a caricature of martiality. A grotesque caricature made of many small fragments: the traditionalist “we’ve always done it this way,” closed to understanding what lies beyond its ivory tower; the perpetually revolutionary one, always agitated, never stopping to appreciate the legacy of the past; the testosterone-driven cerebral one, focused only on long lists of techniques meant to dominate; or the one that, in the name of inclusion, never truly engages.

For a martial artist, the call to arms is the study of one’s own limits, in search of the narrow middle path. It is the humble acceptance of a process of refinement. It is the constant dialogue with oneself, with partners, with the group, with the teacher.

It is the pursuit and refinement of clarity.
A clarity that is lacking in today’s world -in the narration of events, and in the acceptance of shared responsibilities and interdependencies.

Building men and women capable of clarity because they are capable of listening: this is the contribution that a martial discipline like Aikido can offer society.

And in times like these, that is no small thing.

Disclaimer: Picture by Krys Amon from Unsplash