MIGOTONA IPPON 見事な一本

Sport is a term that encompasses various physical activities aimed at multiple purposes. In the previous piece, I used the word “sport” as a point of comparison to understand Budo, without specifying further. I would therefore like to clarify that the topic here concerns, among the various forms of sporting activity, those in which people compete to determine a winner and a loser.

As is already evident from these lines, the goal of competitive sport is to win. By contrast, in traditional Budo, winning is not the goal. This assertion is disconcerting to many: in a situation where one prepares to exchange techniques with an opponent standing before them, what else should one do but try to win against someone who is about to strike or grab us? If you feel this sense of bewilderment, it may be because you are still in a sporting frame of mind. And yet another approach truly exists: to engage in a technical exchange with a purpose other than simple victory. It is precisely this second attitude that constitutes the fundamental concept of Budo.

So what is the aim of Budo? For example, if we cite what the Japanese Budo Association states (as reported on the official website of the Nippon Budokan), we read: “Budo aims to forge mind and body through martial technical practice, refine character, elevate knowledge, and form people of value.” In most dojo that call themselves “Budo,” we find similar statements of intent, and this is a coherent concept. However, by moving straight to an expression with a strongly moral tone, one risks feeling that this aim is too abstract and distant when compared with the concrete goal of sport—namely, winning.

I do not wish to contest these principles, but when they become merely a moral exhortation, one risks finding no practical link to daily training in the dojo. It ends up as a stock phrase devoid of substance. I therefore believe a gradual understanding is needed—one that leads us to these principles. Here I want to try to show, in my own words, the goal of Budo in a way that is closer, in conceptual distance, to sport’s goal of “winning.”

At the base of Budo training there is always a mindset aimed at achieving “a technique that emerges from perfect movement.” Let us call the expression of this technique MIGOTONA IPPON – 見事な一本 (MIGOTONA IPPON). Migotona means elegant, brilliant, magnificent; ippon is a term used in matches to indicate a decisive technique executed perfectly. This MIGOTONA IPPON—an elegant, flawless ippon—has the characteristic of fascinating not only a third-party audience, but of resonating above all in the heart of the opponent. It is a kind of emotion entirely different from the resentment or thirst for revenge that sometimes arises in defeat. It is an impact that awakens and energizes positively, as if something blocked began to flow again. A strike that, instead of inflicting mortal wounds or killing, has the nature of activating and strengthening the other’s energy constructively. A strike of this nature is called KATSUJINKEN (活人剣/拳)—the “life-giving sword/fist.” In other words, MIGOTONA IPPON is by its very nature also a KATSUJINKEN.

The objective of Budo (understood as technical training) is therefore to aim for this MIGOTONA IPPON during combat.

At this point someone might think: if a MIGOTONA IPPON in fact implies victory, then the goal in Budo is also to win, exactly as in sport. But that is not the case. In fact, MIGOTONA IPPON appears as victory only when the perfect movement that produces it also simultaneously satisfies the victory criteria established by sporting rules. Let us see why.

In sport there are rules. Victory and defeat are determined not by the contestants themselves, but by a third party: the referee. Consequently, the athlete does not compete to overcome the opponent in an absolute sense, but to ensure that the referee deems—according to the rules—that he or she has prevailed. Having to obey rules and entrust judgment to a referee directs one’s mental focus during the contest in a way already different from Budo.

Sporting rules guarantee safety and fairness, but they also serve to make the game more efficient and engaging; the larger the event, the more this aspect grows. As a result, the rules often require suppressing part of the reactions dictated by the pure instinct of confrontation. For example, there are time limits or penalties for maintaining an overly defensive posture—rules created for organizational needs or to avoid boring the audience. This forces the athlete to attack even when there would be no genuine opening to do so.

As mentioned, a MIGOTONA IPPON arises from a mental state of perfect harmony in movement. Forcing an attack—ignoring the felt sense that it is not the right moment—just to win by complying with a rule cannot be part of perfect movement. Therefore, even if one wins while observing these rules, if one approaches the challenge as a budoka, that victory has no value. In this lies one of the reasons why the purpose of Budo is not to win.