So I have set aside 2022 to be my year to read about war and strategy. I started on Carl von Clausewitz's On War, but found it to be a bit too philosophical to digest in one gulp. I'll read a chapter of it in between other books until I've finished it. Meanwhile, I picked up a slimmer volume (106 pages) written by a man who describes himself as "the greatest swordsman Japan has ever had (page xv)." And I must say, a clearer contrast with the pacifist mentality of the Tibetans I studied in 2021, could not possibly be found.
It's About Killing, Not Sparring
This translation begins with an introduction by the man who translated it, a 10th dan who is viewed as one of the forefathers of American karate. The gist of this introduction is "most people water down the translation to make it applicable in business. It was written by a killer in an age where mortal combat was a way of life, not a boardroom shark whose "kills" were financial victories." And oh, does this point come through in this direct, no-frills translation.
The "Way" cannot be learned through frivolous contests in which the outcome is for the name of a school or a large trophy. It can only be realized where physical death is a reality. (p. 4)
There is a significant difference between beating a man intellectually and physically taking his life. (p. 17)
When a warrior draws his sword the main intention must be to cut the enemy down... The martial arts are not a game to see who is stronger and who is faster. (p. 30)
You either do it or you don't do it. There is only one purpose in attacking the enemy - to cut him down with finality. (p. 33)
The only way you can understand the truth about killing an enemy in combat is by killing an enemy in combat. (p. 55)
In combat you are not in a contest of strength and you are not in a race. You are there for the only purpose there is to be in combat - to kill the enemy. (p. 87)
You get the idea.
This is not about the metaphorical "bloodbath" of the business world. This is about fighting for life and death.
Sometimes Contradictory
Like so many martial treatises from the Far-East, this book does have the perplexing propensity for self-contradiction that is so prevalent in the Sinic languages (and their philosophies as well) For example, the three final segments of the "Book of Fire," the third of the "rings," features these two statements barely a page and a half from each other.
It is not always necessary to go into physical combat to win a fight. Sometimes you can win by your presence alone. Other times you can win simply by letting the enemy know your intentions. (p. 77)
If this statement, which is contrary to most of the book's theme (namely, "the purpose of fighting is to kill") is not already confusing enough, the author backpedals on it with this.
The only thing of importance in the Way of strategy is the willingness and ability to truly defeat the enemy in actual combat with a long sword. (p. 79)
And then back to the first.
It is possible to win a fight without ever having to go into combat. Understand this. (p. 93)
Of course, any book on war is riddled with contradictions (because, well, WAR is riddled with contradictions), so this is perhaps to be expected.
The Spirit of Japan
Contrary to popular belief, there never was a specific set of rules or a written code that could be pointed to as "the Bushido Code" or the "Warrior Way." The concept existed, of course, and it was Japan's guiding principle for centuries (and in fact it still is, as China is on the verge of discovering, much to their chagrin). Essentially, this book is a self-help manual for warriors seeking to capture the mindset of that principle. The book's message is simple: "attack, keep attacking, and do not stop attacking until you have killed the enemy. If what you are doing is not killing the enemy, do something else. Never acknowledge the possibility of defeat."
It's far from single-minded. The author insists that a warrior should study non-martial pursuits such as art, literature, music, and the like. In fact, he makes this declaration on the first page. However, he insists that the reason for this is because the more one learns of other disciplines, the more they understand their primary discipline (which, for the warrior, is the discipline of killing, as the author frequently reminds the reader). "Who has not learned something more about themselves by watching the activities of others? To learn the sword, study the guitar. To learn the fist, study commerce. To only study the sword will make you narrow-minded and will keep you from growing outward (p. 7 & 8)."
In essence, the message is "to be a warrior, know the world in which non-warriors live."
So Who Should Read It?
If you're looking for a manual on war that is watered down to be applied in the boardroom, where the only "war" you face is market competition, this is not the one (unless your business is a mercenary company). It might be suitable for athletes who compete in full-contact sports, provided such readers take the "kill" as a metaphor. But in plain truth, the main audience that will find this book useful is the class for whom it was written: warriors
This book explains how to form your mindset to be a killer of men. Put simply, if I were the US Secretary of Defense, I'd require every drill sergeant to read this once every six months, until its precepts were drilled deeply enough into their heads that they naturally instilled them in recruits.
This is a life-coaching manual for warriors.
Nothing more, and nothing less.