Talk:Bushi (Japanese warrior)

I think we can do better then Westbrook and Ratti for a reference. Also I think samurai were the equivilent of a knight - they themselves were not nobel. I removed several supositions.Peter Rehse 05:29, 1 December 2006 (UTC)

I am a student at The University of Texas taking a postmodern world history class and according to both my professor and my text book the Bushi were actually warrior elites/leaders who built up their own armies of mounted troops, or samurai. The Bushi class were the leaders of the samurai.

The two terms (bushi and samurai) are generally interchangeable especially pre-Tokugawa. Bushi really refers to any of the warrior class that were not noble. I personally don't like the second paragraph - maybe we should just remove it. Could you quote the book where it says the bushi led the samurai including the title and author. That would add to the article nicely.Peter Rehse 02:48, 5 December 2006 (UTC)

I think you have a good point - I re-wrote it a bit and removed the Westbrook and Ratti reference (its know to be tripe).Peter Rehse 02:58, 5 December 2006 (UTC)

Merge article
This article has been a one-line Wiktionary definition for its 1 1/2 year existence and Wikipedia is not a dictionary. Its content should be moved to samurai, bushidō, and/or a new Wiktionary entry (see also wikt:武士) to make way for Bushi (disambiguation) to be moved here. —  AjaxSmack   16:14, 20 November 2007 (UTC)


 * Evidently it's not that controversial so I will proceed with the merge including moving the info on this page to Talk:Samurai. —   AjaxSmack   02:10, 9 February 2008 (UTC)

basic education and training for samurai
Beginning in 1600, and lasting for the next 250 years, Japan was at peace under the administration of a bakufu government. The economy expanded, and it was perhaps indicative of the times that the shogun surrounded himself with not only military men and scholars but even merchants. Under these circumstances many members of the warrior class found themselves in an environment for which their training as warriors had left them unprepared, and from the amount of attention devoted in writings of the times to the question of what is a samurai, it is evident that it was a period during which the man of arms had to reassess himself. The bakufu itself was not ignorant of this problem, and as early as 1615 issued the Buke Sho-Hatto, or Rule for the Military Houses, which as its first item, stated:

The study of literature and the practice of the military arts, including archery and horsemanship, must be cultivated diligently. "On the left hand literature, on the right hand use of arms" was the rule of the ancients. Both must be pursued concurrently. (Lu, 1974)

Among those who worried about the problems of the samurai was Yamaga Soko (1622-1685), a member of the warrior class and a student of Neo-Confucianism. Yamaga was deeply concerned with the warrior's continued inactivity in peaceful times, and ed to find an ethical definition of the warrior. In his theory of Shido (a less radical theory than bushido), he defined the warrior as an example of Confucian purity to the other classes of society, and as punisher of those who would stray from its path. To Yamaga, the samurai must become a sort of Warrior-Sage, and it was toward the perfection of this transcendent ideal that he directed much of his writings. This direction of thinking, however, which was typical of the scholars of the Edo Period in its tendency toward speculation, goes beyond the precepts considered here. The kakun and yuikai, written largely during or immediately after times of military unrest, were more homilies than philosophical statements, aimed not toward the sagehood of the individual samurai but toward the perpetuation of the clan. Although the Edo Period lasted 250 years and was a period of warrior rule, it was a time when the warrior's role was more idealized than realized. As an era of peace, it perhaps encouraged philosophical speculation; as an era of doubt, it is little wonder that the study of jitsugaku (practical studies)a study of his true function—was a major concern of that specula­tion.

Basic Reading and Religious Background

Most often mentioned as suggested reading material in the warrior's own precepts are the Confucian classics, and more specifi­cally the Four Books: the Analects, the Great Learning, the Doc-trine of the Mean, and the Mencius. Takeda Nobushige's Ninety-Nine Articles, which includes examples of what was considered proper reading for the educated warrior, lists the Analects of Confucius as one of the principle texts of study.

Basically a philosophy of humanism, Confucianism places much

emphasis on education, rationalism, sincerity of action, and the relationships of people involved in society, rather than spiritual

affairs or speculation on life after death. In Confucianism, it is man "that can make the Way great," rather than "the Way that can make man great" (Analects, 15:28). Good government is con­sidered to be founded on virtue and example rather than on mili­tary might or force, and the perfect man is considered a man of virtue rather than profit. In terms of human relationships, Con­fucianism stresses filial piety in the home and fidelity within so­ciety at large.

The Analects consists of many short aphorisms which afford an approach to the core of Confucianism. No doubt its readers in the warrior class extrapolated their own interpretations of the Confucian doctrine by selected readings. The following are some selections that they may have found most attractive.

The Ways of the gentleman are three. . . in humanity, he has no anxieties; in wisdom, he has no confusion; and in courage, he has no fears. (14:30)

It also teaches contentment with poverty and simplistic living:

The Master said, "Having plain food to eat, water to drink, and a bent arm as one's pillow ... there is surely also enjoyment in this!" (7:15)

This is certainly consistent with campaign life. Strict adherence to rites and decorum are advocated, and courtesy is so esteemed that in the Hagakure we read that the warrior is respected "precisely because he has correct manners."

The Analects also teaches respect for poetry:

If you do not study Poetry, you will not be able to speak. (16: 13)

One can see here a hint of the harmonizing of the bun and the bu.

Confucius, it should be remembered, belonged to the class of the knights-errant. Su Ma-ch'ien, in the Shih Chi, has Confucius say:

I have heard that when a man has literary business, he will always take military preparations; and when he has military business, he will always take literary preparations.

The true gentleman should also have a warrior-like self-reliance based on his own perfection:

The gentleman seeks things in himself; the inferior man seeks things in others. (Analects 15:21)

The gentleman is without anxiety and without fear.... When he looks into himself and finds nothing vexatious, how will there be anxiety, how will there be fear? (12:4)

But perfection should be tempered with humility:

Meng Chih-fan was not boastful. In a retreat, he took up the rear position. As he was about to enter the gate, he whipped his horse and said, "It's not that I dared to be the last, the horse just wouldn't go." (6:15)

The warriors, whose functions extended into broader adminis­trative areas as Court rites and ceremonies became empty formali­ties, were men who had real problems to solve. As warriors, their calling was one of life and death; after 1221, their governing duties extended throughout most of the country. From the late 12th century and especially through the Warring States Period, men from the bushi class found it necessary to establish in themselves both the arts of war and the arts of peace as necessary conditions for the survival of themselves and their clans. In the Great Learning they found a key to this survival in the Confucian ideal of self-cultivation, and the connection between the single-mindedness of the individual and the ruling of the country:

Only by moving with focus can one have stability. Only by being stable can one have peace. Only by having peace can one be se-cure. Only in security can one deliberate. And only with deliber­ation will one be able to obtain.

And before governing others one must learn to govern himself:

Those who desired to govern their states would first put their families in order. And those who desired to put their families in order would first discipline themselves.

Thus, the general measure of the Great Learning is that virtue works on a vertical slide, and for the warrior this meant moving from the individual leader down through the entire province. This also applied to the clan as a whole:

If one family has humanity, the entire state will become humane. If one family has courtesy, the entire state will become courteous. But if one man is grasping and perverse, the entire country will be brought into rebellion.

Vital to the concept of self-control and achievement is the virtue of sincerity. This sincerity has a sort of transcendent, even mystical quality, akin to single-mindedness and somehow more connected with the man whose life is on the line in the battlefield than with the rank-conscious courtier embroiled in palace intrigues. The warrior could afford little equivocating, and the principle of sincerity offered him the way to break through his problems. He was taught to be as sincere to himself as to others; a policy leading to internal as well as external honesty, an honesty to one's enemies as well as to one's allies. In the Doctrine of the Mean we find: Sincerity is the Way of Heaven; making oneself sincere is the Way of man. Sincerity hits what is right without effort, and obtains (understanding) without thinking. Confucianism offered a sound and comprehensive system within which the warrior could go about his temporal affairs. Buddhism, on the other hand, though introduced to Japan about the same time as Confucianism (the sixth or seventh centuries), was at first of interest only to the nobility, some of whom admired it more for its pageantry than for its philosophy. In the 12th and 13th centuries, however, the priests Eisai and Dogen brought a kind of Buddhism called Zen to Japan that had been developing in China since the early T'ang Dynasty (618-906). It required no ceremonies or academic studies, and put extreme reliance on individual willpower and self-discipline. It was a Buddhism of action and in-tuition rather than intellectualization, of moving forward rather than dwelling on the past. This was very attractive to the man on the battlefield. Along with the values of self-reliance, asceticism, and single-mindedness (all of which were shared in common with Confucianism), Zen laid great emphasis on self-denial, or transcending life and death as a condition of attaining spiritual salvation. The warrior's duty, of course, was to fight and die, and in this transcendent posture, Zen offered him the spiritual training necessary to carry out his duty unflinchingly. Zen, however, occupied the paradoxical position of relying on intuition ("not standing on scriptures") and yet teaching a respect for learning and even acting as its vehicle. Here again, the warrior found the principle of rugged and manly discipline harmonized with the literary world. Not all warriors belonged to the Zen sect of Buddhism, of course, but it was Zen that ultimately had the greatest effect on warrior society. Finally, the Chinese military classics should be mentioned, due both to their immediacy to the warrior's profession and to the allusion given them in the precepts. Some of these classics may date back as far as the fifth and sixth centuries B.C., and have long held the respect of not only military men but scholars and poets as well. Military strategies for the most part, they were read attentively by the great Japanese campaigners; among the writers here they are mentioned by Imagawa Ryoshun and Kato Kiyomasa, and quoted extensively by Takeda Nobushige. Aside from their purely tactical advice, however, they must have helped in the formation of warrior attitudes with principles such as the following:

Therefore, it is a functional military law that one does not rely on the enemy not coming, but relies on the fact that he himself is waiting; one does not rely on the enemy not attacking, but relies on the fact that he himself is unassailable. (Sun Tzu 9:11)

When the world is at peace, a gentleman keeps his sword by his side. (Wu Tzu—Griffith, 1977)

Conclusion

The Japanese warriors responded differently to these various influences from diverse places in time, circumstance, and personality. Underlying these differences, however, two basic attitudes remain fairly constant throughout: that if the advice given is followed, the individual will gain in character, and the province and the clan will be properly maintained. More often than not, the assumption is that the latter depends absolutely on the former. Thus, if the warrior was encouraged to study poetry or letters or even religion, it was less from an academic point of view than a pragmatic one; the more well-rounded and total the man is, the better he will be able to cope with his surroundings.

"Learning," said Takeda Shingen, "is not only reading books, but rather some-thing we study to integrate with our own way of life."

As we have seen, a balance of literary arts and the martial arts was considered ideal, encouraged by Confucianism and substantiated by the Buddhist scholars. The example of the Court was for-ever before the warrior, both as an ideal of the glittering world of letters, and as a warning of the impotence incurred when the sword is put down completely in favor of the pen. Concerning this dichotomy, Kuroda Nagamasa wrote:

The arts of peace and the arts of war are like the two wheels of a cart which, lacking one, will have difficulty in standing.

How well the warriors were able to sustain that balance may be judged, in part, by these precepts compared with the lives of their writers. One may read these precepts, then, from different perspectives. They may be read as documentary evidence of warrior attitudes in certain times and places, or from a strictly literary point of view, or again, as material giving fresh and direct insight into some of the most interesting men in Japanese history. There is a current running throughout these readings, however, that bears directly on ourselves and our own values: the Way of the Warrior is the way to the total man and the journey to a fuller self. In our own specialized culture, the scholar and the poet are too often identified with the dove, while the soldier is depicted as too martial and unfeeling; their camps are mutually exclusive. The leaders of the Japanese warrior class attempted to span that gulf. If they did not attain that ideal, they did maintain and preserve it while living and acting in the world with a broader point of view than that with which we ourselves might claim. —Preceding unsigned comment added by 68.6.206.163 (talk) 00:24, 10 December 2007 (UTC)