Monday, September 26, 2011

Fighting, and the Fighting Arts


Michael J. Rosenbaum was born on May 12, 1961 in Knoxville, Tennessee. He started his martial arts training at the age of five when his father instructed him in both Judo and Boxing. At the age of fifteen, he began studying Isshin Ryu Karate and by the time of his seventeenth birthday he had been introduced to the Burmese fighting art of Bando. At the age of eighteen Michael enlisted in the U.S. Army.

He went through infantry school, airborne school, jungle warfare school, and was a member of the elite 82nd Airborne division, where he put his extensive knowledge to good use, having been awarded the Army Commendation Medal, several citations for a job well done and the Distinguished Trooper Award by the Commander of the 82nd Airborne Division himself.

Seeking to advance his knowledge of the Burmese fighting arts, Rosenbaum, in 1990, began studying with Allan Thompson and Edward Francisco, both of whom were students of the late Bando pioneer Bob Hill. Thompson was also the founder of the Tiger Hand/Tiger fist fighting system.

Two years later, with much encouragement from Francisco and Thompson, Rosenbaum went on to found the Snow Leopard Boxing/Tiger Fist system. Michael has conducted numerous self-defense and rape prevention courses as well as having been a body guard, bouncer and instructor of law enforcement personnel. He has written several books on the martial arts, including Kata and the Transmission of Knowledge: In Traditional Martial Arts and The Fighting Arts.

In The Fighting Arts, Mr. Rosenbaum discusses the evolution of the study of violence from non-specific combat practices to highly stylized and ritualized forms of training. In his own words the introduction to the book "examines the seeds from which our fighting arts were grown and points out that they are not an entity apart from us, but instead are of us."


Introduction
Page xix
Under heaven all can see beauty as beauty only because there is ugliness. All can known good as good only because there is evil.
- Tao Te Ching 
"At some point in man's evolution, his primal rage compelled him to climb down out of the trees, pick up stones, and take a stand against the animals that had been hunting him for so long. From this rage the art of fighting was born. This inner rage of our ancestors would become the foundation from which many classical and contemporary martial arts styles and systems were built upon. Sir Richard Burton once stated, "The history of the sword is the history of humanity." To expand on Burton's statement, we can say that to study the art of fighting is to study a strand of humanity itself because our survival as a species has at times depended upon our fighting prowess. For some this ideal may seem almost alien in nature while others may view it as repulsive. But, as Will Durant said about our suppressed primal rage in the modern world, "Every vice was once a virtue, necessary in the struggle for existence; it became a vice only when it survived the conditions that made it indispensable." In today's society, fighting is considered a vice by many, and its impact on the history of mankind is to a large degree downplayed by our present culture, which views fighting for the most part as politically incorrect. This view holds true even in the martial arts world where many practitioners consider the act of fighting secondary to their studies, overlooking the fact that all systems have a pugilistic past fueled by our own primal rage. It is an omission that can often hinder the practitioner's development.

In order to practice a fighting art we each have to face our primal rage or at the least acknowledge its presence. Ehrenreich observed, "If violence was, almost from the beginning, the means of human survival, then, according to some advocates of the hunting hypothesis, it must be bred into our genes-an evolutionary version of 'original sin'." (p. 37). Ehrenreich's statement points out that we each have our breaking point, a time when this rage or "original sin" will consume us and harm those whom we focus it on. In order to understand this inner force, its presence cannot be ignored. As ironic as it may seem, the fighting arts that were born out of our primal rage can also aid us in controlling it. It is at this level, fighting is viewed as a last resort.

When a practitioner evolves to this level of studying a fighting art, they begin focusing their energies inward away from the external and more toward the internal realm of things. By doing this they can come to understand those emotions that contribute to our rage and enhance its fury. Shi Ming whose extraordinary powers were featured in the Bill Moyer's 1993 Public Television Special Healing and the Mind stated once, "The aim of pugilism in the martial arts is seeking the Tao" (Shi Ming p. 99). His statement brings to light that at advanced levels of study the art of fighting can become a means to fortify the human spirit by strengthening weaknesses through training.

To study the art of fighting is to examine not only our primal rage, but also our best and yet worst traits, such as fear, courage, hate, respect, and even compassion. History has given us many examples of warriors displaying uncommon valor in the face of certain death. For examples, consider the many duels of Miyamoto Musashi or Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. The history of the art of fighting has shown how, in one instance, a warrior will strike down their foe yet in the next instance will show respect and compassion to a fallen opponent. Both Keegan and Amberger speak of this phenomenon. Keegan states in his scholarly work, The Face of Battle, that "the study of battle is therefore always a study of fear and courage." (See p. 303). Amberger in his book, The Secret History of the Sword also gives an example of our best yet worst traits by describing in detail the 1896 duel between Leonardo F. Terrone and Guido Flauto. The duel was fought because of an insult to Terrone's honor, and it ended when Flauto received a severe cut to his face. After the duel, Flauto and Terrone shook hands out of mutual respect for one another. Later during the 1900 International Fencing Tournament, Flauto expressed to all present his immense respect of Terrone for having fought the duel (Amberger pp. 159-160). These best, yet worst, traits of mankind are still exhibited today in our own study of the art of fighting. One example is those practitioners who perform a bow or execute a salutation at the beginning of a kata or sparring session. This is a ritualized way of showing respect to an opponent. In many cases, the ritual is considered just as important, if not more so, than the techniques used within the form or kata.

The art of fighting begins in each and every one of us as a shapeless, formless entity, until we give it form by expressing it in an action, such as a punch or kick.

It evolves into a system when these physical manifestations, become organized by an individual, or a group of people into a standardized method of training. The reader should bear in mind that there is a difference between the barroom brawler's approach to fighting (as effective as it may be) and that of the trained fighter. The trained fighter's style or system allows him to execute conditioned responses and standardized techniques in a consistent manner. By comparison, the barroom fighter's approach has no such standardization in execution of techniques.

To truly understand the art of fighting and how it becomes systematized by people and their cultures, let's illustrate with a big bucket of water. The content of this bucket represents the source from which all styles and systems come. Now let us pour the source into smaller buckets. These buckets represent different cultures and their interpretations of the art of fighting. Now let us take one of these smaller buckets and pour its contents into several glasses. These glasses represent the different systems that make up a culture's fighting art. For example, Japan has several major systems that make up the culture's fighting arts, such as karate-do, judo, aikido, kendo, etc. Now let us pick up one of the glasses and pour the contents into small cups. These cups will represent the different styles that make up a system such as shoto-kan, shito-ryu, isshin-ryu, and many others. We will take one of the cups and pour the content into shot glasses. These shot glasses will represent the individual techniques that are found within the style. It is at this level that the art of fighting both begins and ends. It begins with a single punch, kick, or throw, and becomes a system because of mankind's tendency to organize these techniques into systems and styles. However, for a system or style to exist, it has to have these basic techniques-which have been used by mankind for many years to physically express the art of fighting. This is an evolutionary cycle that makes the art of fighting literally a living breathing entity, one that is constantly changing and evolving as a result of mankind's analytical and creative skills. Dr. Yang Jwing-Ming stated that, "the arts are alive and are creative." (The Essence of Shaolin White Crane p. 24). And they are! Today's contemporary systems and styles have evolved from those past but, more than likely, their appearance and execution are in many ways different that those of their ancestors. 

From a purely combative standpoint, to study the art of fighting is to also understand an evolutionary process that concerns not only the practitioner, but also the art of fighting. Mankind is always seeking better techniques, weapons, and tactics to defend his self. This quest for advancement forces the art of fighting to constantly evolve and devolve. It is not a linear progression as many of today's practitioners would like for us to believe (Amberger p. 2). When technology is present, it is used to develop more effective weapons, but when technology is not present, then mankind develops his natural abilities to a high degree (Draeger and Smith p. 58). The Japanese samurai are an example of the evolutionary portion of this cycle. Their traditional martial arts, the bujutsu (not to be confused with martial ways, budo), had developed to very high levels through centuries of warfare. However, within sixteen years after Commodore Perry's visit to their country and the Japanese's first-hand observation of the Western ways of war, the samurai sword was replaced by the rifle and the spear by the cannon as the soldier's primary weapons (Harries pp. 3-22). This evolution caused many of the traditional bujutsu forms to take on secondary roles in warfare, even though the samurai sword was still worn by officers for years to come. This was the devolution cycle of classical Japanese systems however their evolutionary cycle can be seen again with modern day law enforcement agencies (Draeger, Modern Budo Bujutsu pp. 68-76). Although many law enforcement officers carry firearms, they cannot always use them to arrest suspects because of their lethal nature; so they are trained in empty-handed methods of fighting. Techniques that in some cases were developed by the samurai hundred of years ago and are now frequently used by the police while arresting suspects.

In America, our own study of the art of fighting has been greatly influenced by the meeting of Asian and European systems. It is a meeting that, at times, makes us seem almost at a loss in trying to understand these two cultures' approaches to fighting and how they fit within our culture. In situations such as ours, people can embrace very ethnocentric views about the martial arts/art of fighting and by doing so become very engrossed in the concept of styles and systems.

The systemization of the art of fighting is important because it allows us to segment and practice various concepts and techniques; yet it is a process very much influenced by people's personalities. Since no two people are alike, no two systems will be exactly alike. It is the fighter who makes the fight and not the system. Miyamoto Musashi is a prime example of this. Musashi was a great swordsman, influenced by the culture and times in which he lived. However, his skill was achieved, not because of the sword or a particular style or system, but because he understood the art of fighting. As Musashi expressed it, "Then you will come to think of things in a wide sense and, taking the void as the Way, you will see the Way as void." (The Book of Five Rings p. 95). The art of fighting has to be understood from the wide sense that Musashi speaks of. It has to be seen with form or the Way and yet seen with formlessness, the Void. The art of fighting begins within us as the Void, and it becomes the Way when we give it form."


The use of violence is always influenced by culture, technology, and environment. But at a deeper level it comes from something within each of us. It comes from our natural animal desire to survive. It comes from that part of us that still remembers being chased through tall grass and between trees by animals red in tooth and claw. It comes from the same drive that led the first man to pick up a rock or a stick and turn it against his predators. The use of violence is natural and formless. But the study of violence and the codification of its applications comes from another place. Where violence comes from our animal natures, the systems and styles that we use to give it form come from the thinking man. They come from the same place as poetry, philosophy, and science. Where lashing out at a predator is instinct, punches and kicks are learned behavior.

The martial artist must learn to harness the animal within, and give it form through his capacity for creative thought and analysis. These are the two aspects of mankind, the animal and the thinker, and it is through embracing both that he becomes a truly formidable warrior.

Drills -
Beginner: Look within yourself. Take time during a calm, quiet part of your day to analyze your behaviors. Be honest. What makes you angry? How do you react to anger? How do you feel when you are angry? What do you do to calm yourself? When you are angry, stop and say to yourself, "I am angry. I am reacting with emotion." Seek to understand your own motivations and patterns and actively practice state management, or the practice of "moving from an emotional state to a rational state."

Intermediate: Study the patterns. Perform the techniques. With each repetition of each basic carefully practice proper form. Seek to understand the relationships between each of the movements, and the interaction between attacker and defender. Recognize the role that stance, angles, and position play in each movement and pursue constant improvement and perfection of execution.

Advanced: When fighting, bring the beast to the surface. Reach within yourself and awaken the animal part of your nature. Fight with emotion. Project your inner strength against your opponent through your eyes and your voice. Burn with passion and let it fuel your actions, but even in the midst of the fire never forget proper technique. It is the combination of both which gives you strength. Be strong.

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