Some Thoughts on the Japanese Sword

By Brett Denison, Mizukan Dojo

The people of the various provinces are strictly forbidden to have in their possession any swords.... Therefore, the provincial deputies are ordered to collect all weapons.... Swords collected will not be wasted. They shall be used in forging a Great Image of The Buddha. This will benefit the people not only in this life, but in the life hereafter. -Toyotomi Hideyoshi's sword edict, 1588

A couple of years ago I was giving a demonstration of iaijutsu (the art of the fast sword draw) at a Japanese cultural festival. When I'd finished and left the stage, a man approached me from the crowd.

"Could I ask you something?" he questioned. I nodded.

"It's my understanding that a real samurai sword is never supposed to be drawn unless it's actually going to be used," he said, a trace of agitation in his voice.

At first, I wasn't sure I understood what he was talking about, and he had to repeat it. I was still mystified, so I asked him, "Don't you think if that were true, that it would be pretty tough to ever train to use a sword in the first place?" He paused, apparently considering this notion for the first time. I went on. "During the age of the samurai, swordsmen practiced drawing and cutting with their swords up to 1,000 times a day and more," I pointed out, adding that if his idea were correct, Japan must have been an awfully bloody place for the several centuries that feudalism existed there.

"Yeah," he finally agreed, "I guess that makes some sense." As he left, however, I was still not sure he believed me, and from the tone of his voice I inferred he suspected I'd stained the honor of the warrior by my demonstration.

Of course, not all the beliefs about the Japanese sword are quite this bizarre and unrealistic, but the amount of ignorance, and the myths that have grown up around the swords of the samurai are rather ponderous. At this same festival every year are displayed an extensive collection of Japanese weapons from the feudal age - most of the swords and their fittings - and it's always interesting to visit the display, not only because it contains many outstanding pieces, but because of the remarks one overhears about them from the visitors.

"This one here's a 'harry-carry' knife," explained a man to his wife. "They had to have 'em all the time, so they'd be ready to kill themselves any time." The blade he was pointing out was not a knife at all, but a short sword, one much too long to have been allowed in a formal ceremony of disembowelment, not to mention that very rarely was a condemned samurai permitted by law or custom to use his own weapon in suicide. And so it goes.

All this does not intend to poke fun at the ignorant, but to establish that there is both a considerable interest in Japanese swords, as well as a great deal of misinformation about them in the West. Anyone, however, who's tried recently to purchase one of these weapons, knows already the demand for swords is exceptional. Even very poor quality blades Of the sort mass-produced during the last world war as a decorative sidearm are fetching prices that bring gasps of disbelief.

Aside from the fickle sense of the collector's urges, which make certain items once quite ordinary suddenly very valuable, the price of Japanese swords has been inflated to a degree by the perceived mysticism of the weapon, and by the sense of power it seems to impart to some individuals. Not all those who collect swords have a macho motivation. Most collectors I've met sincerely appreciate the beauty of the weapons they desire to possess. But some get positively glassy-eyed in the presence of a Japanese sword, caressing and fondling it. And while their type is most often accompanied by an oohing and aahing female companion who invariably listens attentively to their lectures concerning the sword's alleged merits - Freudian thinkers would have a field day with such behavior.

Neither of these, the true collector's desire to own fine swords, nor the devotee's wish to idolize them, can adequate- ly explain the practicing martial artist's motivation to acquire a Japanese sword. But there is no denying it. A frequent question of many budoka (warriors) concerns the availability of such a weapon. Perhaps the motivation comes from a wish to somehow solidify the link with the past that many martial artists are discovering, a tangible reminder of their roots. There certainly isn't anything wrong with this, but as I said, the market for swords is terribly inflated right now. Even if the budoka has a chance to buy a good Japanese sword, chances are he'll have to spend a hefty sum. Before making this kind of investment, it's a good idea to seriously think about what kind of sword it is he wants, and why.

"Why, I want a Japanese sword," one might say. But the fact is, there are different kinds of "Japanese swords," and the prospective buyer should know the merits and limitations of each.
Of course, I'm not referring to that vast array of bladed weapons, nor to the slight variation that are of interest only to the specialist collector. Rather, I'm speaking of the katana, a weapon approximately three feet, which was the central arm of the warrior and swordsman throughout virtually all of the feudal era. However, even in the most general terms, the budoka in the market for that kind of sword will find he has at least three choices.

The first and most common of these are those swords made today which are intended mainly for decorative purposes. These are the sort offered for sale in, usually ranging in price from $50-100. In most cases, these swords have lightweight steel or aluminum blades, which are not made for cutting. In fact, they often cannot even be sharpened. They're highly decorated as a rule, and have extravagant fittings.

The second type of sword the martial artist is likely to run across is the shingunto (new army sword). These weapons were mass-produced in Japan during the 30s and 40s as standard issue to officers in the Japanese armed forces. After having seen a few of them-they are common at gun shows end antique auctions-it is easy to pick them out. The blades have a dull, metallic cast about them, and they are usually nicked and pitted from poor care. The guard of the shingunto is inevitably of brass, made in the abstracted shape of a chrysanthemum blossom. Often shingunto will have a small, spring-activated clip near the guard, which fits into a socket in the scabbard and which locks the weapon into its sheath. Thus, the sword can only be drawn after depressing the clip. The scabbard itself is usually light metal, sometimes with a protective sheath of leather. It is the shingunto that is unquestionably the most overpriced of all Japanese style swords. Depending on their condition - and most importantly, on what the dealer thinks he can get for them - they may run up to several hundred dollars, although authorities agree they are only worth a fraction of that.

The last sword a buyer is likely to find is the real thing, a sword made during the feudal period and actually carried by the samurai or other professional warrior. Although quality and craftsmanship varied considerably during this long period, these weapons are usually characterized by bright sheen, with detectable forge lines along the cutting edge of the blade. Most are sturdy, and while their fittings may have suffered from years-sometimes centuries of abuse-the steel of the blade is often still in excellent shape. Naturally, the price for these swords varies, but even the katana of poorest quality bring sums that are astronomic. I recall several years ago when a masterpiece forged by the great swordsmaker Masamune sold $90,000. Today, however, even that price has been exceeded.

Anyone interested in buying his own sword can see that his choices run, in terms or price, from the modestly reasonable to the outlandish. The real criterion in making a selection, though, should have more to do with what he wishes to have the weapon for in the first place. If this criterion is foremost in choosing a sword, even if he's forced to pay more, the martial artist will ultimately be happier with his purchase.

First of all, there may be some budoka who harbor vague notions of acquiring a sword for training in kendo or kenjutsu. They would be heartily advised to forget it. At almost the same time classical swordsmanship began to achieve its highest levels of sophistication, the bokken, or wooden practice sword, was developed. This was not just to protect the fencers in the training hall, but to protect their valuable steel blades as well. Even the most skilled swordsman would soon make an error in the heat of daily training. With a bokken, the only damage would be a nick or dent. With a live sword, however, irreparable damage could be incurred. Only under the most carefully controlled conditions such as kata (forms) done at a reduced speed, are live blades ever used in classical training, and then only by the most expert practitioners. To use one in daily practice is stupid beyond all comprehension and is incredibly dangerous.

A little more understandable is the buyer who has no intention of ever drawing his sword for practice or skill's sake, but who wants one simply for decoration. He just wants a sword to hang on the wall or display on its stand. In this case, the best bet is simply to purchase one of those swords advertised in the various martial arts magazines. They are relatively inexpensive, and will meet the needs of decoration quite nicely.

It is also advisable to consider dull-edged varieties as well. I'm referring to the watermelon-on-the-belly masters and their ilk. Everyone who's ever seen one of these demonstrations should by now have figured out that the watermelon and other such fruit are split by their own weight after being only partly cut and that the demonstrations are not evidence of skill. Therefore, if you insist upon engaging in such meaningless displays of foolishness, it is far better to use a dull-edged, mock weapon. That way, you won't end up slipping; chopping up your victim-assailant, being sued and generally making the entire population of martial artists look bad.

The budoka who faces perhaps the most difficulty in finding a sword suitable for his purpose is one who has been fortunate enough to practice of iaido (the art of drawing and cutting with the sword). There are only a handful of individuals in the United States actually qualified to teach this comparatively rare do (way). Should you be one of those with a chance to train under an iaido instructor, you may find that locating a teacher and a dojo is only half the search. The other, at least as complicated, is in finding an adequate sword with which to properly learn the art.

The ornamental sword can obviously be ruled out for the iaido practitioner. The actions of iai place a great deal of stress on a sword, and the quality of construction of decorative blades is not suited to that kind of treatment. The student may feel good about the relatively abundant shingunto, the standard Army issue swords mentioned earlier, which seem to have been brought home by every serviceman stationed in the South Pacific during the last world war. They're sturdy, and hunting-gun or pawn shops often sell them. But in fact, while the shingunto may make an interesting collector's item, it is mostly useless for iaido practice. It is usually too long.

Another problem with the shingunto is that the spring clip that keeps the blade in the scabbard will prevent the fast, smooth draw of iai. Even if this clip is absent or removed, the real problem with the shingunto is curvature. Throughout the history of the sword, the sori (curve of the sword along its spine) was constantly modified. Early swords were nearly straight, then came a period where they were deeply curved, then changed back to straight, and so on, as swordsmiths experimented and responded to the needs of the warrior. During the age when iai became a recognized combative discipline, the sword had a moderate but noticeable sort, and it was this feature that permitted the twisting, rotating action of the fast draw. The shingunto, harkening back to an earlier time, have a much less pronounced sori, making them clumsy and awkward for use in iai.

Maybe the student can find an affordable katana of the feudal era for use ia iai. He still may not have his problem solved, for like the shingunto, the curvature of the blade may be incorrect. The weapon might be in a condition that's too weak for regular practice or, more likely, it may be too valuable to risk damaging. What can he do? An often overlooked answer is in the iaito. The iaito is a weapon crafted with much the same care as a real katana, made of high quality steel and of the same weight and length as a real sword. The only difference is that the iaito has no sharpened edge.

Upon first examination, the iaito might seem like an ordinary decorative sword. But a closer look reveals a much better construction. Iaito are the products of only a few companies in Japan who specialize in crafting them. Usually, once a year a particular sword from one of Japan's museums is selected by the company and it is copied exactly, in terms of fittings, scabbard and guard. The blade itself is made according to the proportions of the original, but it's left unsharpened, an advantage in many ways. An unsharpened iaito is not classified as a weapon in Japan and is therefore outside the severe restrictions on personal ownership and on shipping it outside the country. A dull edge also cuts the cost of the iaito considerably; most can be purchased for around $300. Considering that they will last a lifetime, it is often the best investment the iai student can make. Iaito are unavailable in the United States, but if the student's teacher is legitimate, he will certainly know how they can be obtained from Japan.

To summarize, there are a variety of Japanese swords and depending upon one's personal needs or desires, the right one can be found. No matter what sword the martial artist eventually obtains, though, there may come a time, one that he occasionally dreams of, when he'll have the chance to buy a real katana, one that is affordable to him, of the quality and design he's desired for so long; a sword of exactly the right kind.

Now we turn our attention to the katana's role as a weapon in the lives and culture of those men who wielded them.

Until the advent of the katana, there were two general types of swords. The first, made of soft steel or iron, was quite durable, able to withstand punishing blows without breaking. Swords of this type were usually heavy, yet because their metal was soft, it was nearly impossible for them to hold much of an edge. They were almost more like clubs than cutting weapons. The second kind of sword was extremely sharp, made of very hard steel, and was excellent for cutting. The problem, though, was its brittle construction, and it therefore broke quickly in combat.

Different martial cultures employed one or both of these swords, adapting as best they could to the shortcomings of each. But it was in ancient Japan that the two were successfully combined. Early Japanese swordsmiths discovered that through an elaborate process of forging the steel, repeatedly folding it over against itself, they could make the weapon's spine relatively soft but durable. Then, by coating the cutting surface with mud, or some other protective seal during the forging process, they could produce a fine, hardened cutting edge. It was somewhat like a softwood baseball bat with a row of razor-blade steel imbedded along the length of its surface. It was a weapon with the strength and durability to withstand terrible punishment, while at the same time deliver a lethally sharp strike in return.

The craftsmen responsible for this superb weaponry were often extraordinary individuals. They were dedicated to the perfection of the blade and exhibited an almost religious approach to their art. Like other master craftsmen of feudal Japan, swordmakers usually began their training in childhood and apprenticed to a master, usually a relative. The apprentice began his training doing menial chores, such as cutting firewood or cleaning the shop. Much later, he was introduced to the forging process, not as an actual sakite (assistant), but as one whose lowly job was to work the bellows, pumping them at a steady rate to keep the fire hot while the smith and his assistants beat the raw iron into shape. Even in this earliest stage of the swordmaking process, a religious element was obvious, including various Shinto purification rituals. Most swordsmiths, in fact, worked in the white robes and other emblems of Shinto priests, and the manufacture of their blades took on a deeply mystical and sacred aura.

Trained in this kind of environment, by the time he was producing swords of his own the swordmaker was a true artist, and among them were the greatest artists in Japan's history. Accordingly, legends of their skill have been recounted for many generations. One of the more amusing tales - though allegedly true - concerns the practice of forging a master smith's signature on an inferior blade, a deception quite common and one that plagues sword collectors today.
The story takes place in Osafune, in old Bizen Province. A leading swordmaker of his day, Kanemitsu was at his shop. Although occupied, he suddenly stopped his work and, to the surprise of his assistants, raced outside and headed for the shop of a neighboring smith. He charged inside the shop, to the shock of the smith, who was hammering a small chisel bit into the tang of a newly completed blade.

"Why are you putting my signature on that sword?" Kanemitsu demanded.

His composure gone, the offending swordmaker admitted his forgery, but couldn't resist asking Kanemitsu how he discovered it.

"I heard you chiseling a name into the tang, but you used too many strokes, more than would be needed to write your own," Kanemitsu very cleverly replied.

Another story about swordsmiths deals with the spiritual qualities some swords supposedly have. It is widely believed that given the religious devotion with which swordsmiths approached their craft, their products gained a certain spiritual essence - an animistic belief often repeated in stories and legends about famous swords.

Take, for example, the tale of a swordsman who wished to test the cutting ability of weapons made by two of the most renowned master smiths of Japan - Masamune and his brilliant disciple, Muramasa. Allegedly, the student's blades surpassed the teacher's in quality, and the swordsman wished to see for himself if this was so. After much thought he formulated a test he believed would be fair and objective. In turn, he held both weapons in a stream that carried several fallen leaves.

First, he plunged the Muramasa sword into the water and, quickly enough, a leaf came floating downstream, catching against the blade with only the gentle force of the stream behind it. The leaf was instantly severed. Satisfied, the swordsman stuck the Masamune blade into the water. As he held it there, however, waiting for the leaves to touch it, he noticed a curious thing. It was as if the current carried the leaves away from the Masamune sword, as if the weapon exuded some sort of power. None of the leaves were cut.

The thrust of the story is that, unlike the Muramasa weapon, Masamune's sword transcended simple cutting. Masamune's blades had the power to protect and preserve life, rather than the mere ability to cut it down.

Throughout much of history, the samurai of Japan was born with the legal right of sakkatsu jizai (the right to kill and walk away). He was free from legal punishment (though not necessarily from responsibility) for his action. While the samurai did not create the free reign of bloodshed often attributed to them because of this privilege, they did not hesitate to use their weapons, and they took considerable pride in the quality of their swords.

Perhaps the most highly regarded criterion by which the samurai judged swords was through the grisly practice of tameshigiri. Today, tameshigiri, which loosely translated means "to test the power of the cut," is carried out against dampened sheaves of straw or lengths of bamboo. It is in a very real sense the best test of a swordsman's ability. But when a thick, resisting object is struck with full force, the swordsman must have the cutting power, body connection and timing to be successful. In the feudal age, test cutting was performed against straw and bamboo, too.

What standards were important to the feudal swordsman? This is complex, since the needs of the samurai who saw frequent battlefield combat were markedly different from those of the bugeisha, whose principal combat was dueling. These two methods of fighting are quite different, requiring different katana. For the samurai, a comparatively long weapon was advisable, particularly if he did any fighting from horseback, where the extra inches were a great advantage. He also used a sword with some weight behind it, one that could withstand the blocks and parries of opponents. It was a sword with a wide, chisel-like tip that could easily penetrate the armor of opponents and inflict serious wounds. From those battlefield swords that are preserved, we know that the samurai frequently chose a sword that had little curvature, making it more practical for the simple, straightforward strikes of battle.

In contrast, the bugeisha desired a weapon that facilitated quick action. Contrary to the movies, duels in Japan were usually won with a single blow. The bugeisha's sword rarely had to endure the successive clashing that is standard in today's films. Therefore, his principal thoughts in choosing a katana were its weight and length. In both he sought a weapon lighter and shorter than the battlefield model. For this same reason, his weapon was likely curved and featured a narrow point, one that would clear the mouth of the scabbard.

Nowadays, the swords of the Japanese warrior are largely relics. Most rest in the collections of museums. Individuals own some, and a few are still used by practitioners who do not kill, but who train in the ancient arts of iaijutsu and kenjutsu.

If you look hard enough, you may find one of these rare and beautiful weapons. Remember, the sword of Japan holds great significance for those who would follow the way of the warrior. It is a tangible part of the past, one that reminds us of the roots from which various martial arts sprung.

(Please, visit the website of Denison sensei on http://www.mizukan.org/)