The Invincible Warrior

Martial Artists are all aware of aikido randori, wherein a man in a black skirt deftly neutralizes the assaults of one or more attackers swinging sticks, knives, swords and judo chops. Invariably, the tori — the man being attacked — dispenses destruction in a series of revolving evasions, mean joint locks, and aerial tosses, while the uke — the attackers — slam onto the ground with a large slap, only rebound like lemmings and sally forth anew. The chaos continues until someone in charge calls "Yame!", or the uke give up. 

This type of practice is the boon and bane of aikido reputation. Some observers jaw-drop and ogle at the awesomeness of the interaction, while others heckle and naysay, labeling the exercise artificial. YouTube "aikido randori" and browse the comments for an entertaining collection of opinions from either faction. You'll invariably encounter trolls who say "I'd like to see them pull that $#IT on a UFC fighter," or meet martial arts nerds who claim Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of Aikido, could do cartwheels and dodge bullets. 

Speaking of Ueshiba, this particular martial arts nerd would like to point his readers to a quote from Ueshiba's book, The Art of Peace. Ueshiba writes: "The Art of Peace is the principle of non-resistance. Because it is non-resistant, it is victorious from the beginning. Those with evil intentions or contentious thoughts are vanquished. The Art of Peace is invincible because it contends with nothing." 

When observing aikido randori, it's the man in the center that seems so impressive — maybe too impressive— maybe a little bit hokey. But when you think about an invincible warrior, isn't this the first impression you get? That the man in the middle is the badass, and that no can get him because he drops anyone who tries? Watch self-proclaimed badass Steven Segal do randori, and you'll see what I mean. I do not study aikido, but from my perspective, modern Aikido randori practice appears to emphasize the tori. It is no doubt good practice for timing, distancing, and producing technique on the fly. 

Now watch Ueshiba's randori. In both cases, Segal's and Ueshiba's,  the uke go flying. There is no doubt about it, these aikido uke can take some spectacular punishment. Here's the thing: They just get right back up. When I read the quote from Ueshiba, I don't get the impression he's referring to the badass in the middle. My impression from watching Ueshiba do randori is that he is trying to teach his students how to protect themselves from harm. In no way am I belittling Ueshiba's amazing abilities, and in no way am I down-talking aikido's effectiveness as a martial art. 

What I am saying is that I think that aikido randori was not meant to be an expression of combat whose objective is to glorify the tori; I think it is an exercise is for the uke to learn how to avoid danger. As soon as the aikido uke is placed in jeopardy, the ideal is to not contend at all — instead, the ideal is to escape, and it is often managed in very creative ways.

After all, is the invincible warrior one who can destroy a hundred men, or is it one you simply can't hurt?