Me? A traditionalist?
Recently someone told me that I was “relentless” in my desire to see traditional martial arts taken seriously as combative systems. This surprised me. I don’t consider myself a traditionalist in any sense of the word, nor am I particularly tied to or invested in a specific martial tradition. I do hold in high regard the things I do and the arts in which I train — but only because they work.
It is always fascinating to look at yourself from the outside. I thought about the idea of traditionalism and my relationship to it for quite some time. I’ve been accused of many things over the course of my online punditry and pedantry. The profoundly stupid have called me a quasi- or pseudo-intellectual. The followers of alternative combat systems have accused me of sycophantic devotion to a single WWII Combatives instructor. The unskilled have called me hateful and the self-absorbed have called me arrogant. The unyielding have called me a liar and the unfeeling have called me cold. The irrational have called me paranoid and the hoplophobic have called me afraid.
I had never before been called a traditionalist, however.
In the time I’ve used the Internet as a communications and publishing medium, I’ve said, read, and seen a lot. I’ve seen friendships born and destroyed, virtual communities rise and fall, loyalties shift, lies told, truths revealed, hatred fed, hope born and dashed, wisdom imparted, foolishness propagated, and every permutation and combination of the preceding across a spectrum from mild to mind-numbing.
Over that time I’ve received a lot of mail and read a lot of things to me and about me. (I’m not special in that regard. You’ve done and read the same thing if you’re online.) Good friends with whom I’ve disagreed have kicked me in the teeth. People I’ve despised have surprised me and shamed me. People I didn’t know existed have praised me and damned me and asked me for advice.
There is only one constant at the center of that dizzying storm of words and war, of weakness and wealth. That, regardless of what you may hear or think, is my honesty — my firm conviction to approach the martial arts with objectivity and an active mind.
I throw around the terms “combatives” and “martial arts” fairly casually because I see the two as synonymous. To engage in combat with another human being — to use physical force — is a science that, through diligent study and training, can be elevated to the level of art.
Exponents of pure combatives — the “Thug Fu” adherents whose members dismiss all but the most elementary of violent mechanics (on the ground that the rest is needness complication and delusion) — are right in their thinking. They are right because they measure what they do — and what they scorn — against the ultimate arbiter of right and wrong: reality.
To these men and women, the word “art” is somehow dirty. They associate it with the impractical and the unworkable. There is much ridiculousness in the martial arts community – and therefore I cannot fault combatives exponents for making such an association.
My Webster’s desk dictionary defines art first as “the ability of man to arrange or adapt natural things or conditions to his own uses.” Alternatively, it calls art “skilled workmanship.” These are both, to me, the art of the martial arts: skill in adapting.
That is why I view the terms “combatives” and “martial arts” as synonymous. I dismiss the unworkable as not “martial” at all. Anything that works – anything that can be “adapted to my own uses” — is viable as a martial application. As a result I try not to dismiss anything out of hand without critical analysis, the hallmark of the active mind.
I find myself, then, standing within two spheres of thought, two martial philosophies, that sometimes intersect and sometimes do not. I measure everything I do and everything in which I train against the yardstick of reality. I find value in some traditional arts — the infighting system of Wing Chun Kung Fu, as well as the stick- and knife-fighting of Kali and the Filipino Martial Arts in general, for example — and not in others. I modify components of my training to suit me and my pragmatic, nontraditional goals.
I am speaking of myself because I can speak for no other person. I would expect anyone reading this who seeks success in self defense to do the same. I’ve published articles from contributors with whose work I did not completely agree — because I see value in the exchange of ideas and the stimulation of thought. When I express an opinion, I do so believing it to be well-reasoned. That does not mean, however, that I will not listen if you try to persuade me to the contrary. This, too, I expect from others. I place a high premium on such an exchange.
At the same time, The Martialist truly is for those who fight unfairly. A fair fight is no fight in which I want to find myself. I’ll take every advantage I can get and employ every piece of knowledge and training I can glean. I’m a pragmatist. I won’t look down on any tool or piece of training if I think it can help me. I’m also a realist. I won’t accept any tool or piece of training if I find it ridiculous.
I often do find benefit in traditional methods and systems. At all times, however, I integrate what I learn with practical combatives and with a baleful eye on reality’s harshest limits.
It saddens me that there are people who take me more seriously than I take myself. I won’t deny that it always causes me sorrow when my willingness to get on this virtual soapbox, to tell you what I believe, to share my experiences and those of our contributors, to dare to have my own opinions and seek my own way, causes friction with those whom I respect. Some disagree but remain silent. Others tell me honestly and respectfully what they think. Still others resent the temerity with which I presume to offer my thoughts in the field of self defense.
In the course of publishing The Martialist, I’ve gained and lost friends. I’ve listened and I’ve spoken. I’ve been surprised and unmoved, pleased and angered, happy and sad, prolific and preoccupied.
I have not, however, been anyone but me.
The Martialist is not traditional and it is not opposed to tradition. It is not ideological save in opposition to ideologies that are self-destructive. It has only one guideline: success in self-defense. It has many friends, but no individual can be considered its enemy. It is my labor of love — but it is your publication.
We all share one goal: pragmatic preservation of our loved ones, ourselves, and that which we’ve earned through our efforts. That will always be the purpose of this publication.
Thank you — for reading this and for supporting something very important to me. If you find value here, you honor and flatter me. I, in turn, offer you my respect and my friendship as a staunch supporter of your right to defend yourself. As the man says, we are all in this (alone) together.