Interview with Morihiro Saito Sensei
Story Gaku Homma
This article first appeared in Aikido Today Magazone #47
Morihiro Saito Shihan (Aikikai 9th dan) began
practice of Aikido in 1946 under Aikido's Founder, Morihei Ueshiba,
at the Ibaragi Iwama Dojo. This year marks the 50th anniversary
of his dedicated practice of the art of Aikido.He has published
many books, including the five in the classic series Traditional
Aikido, and he appears on several videos. (For information of Saito
Sensei's books and videos, please see the inside covers of this
magazine.) Having practiced Aikido for over 30 years, Gaku Homma
is the founder of Nippon Kan Culture Center in Denver, Colorado.
He is the author of Aikido for Life and other books on Aikido and
Japanese culture.
It seems that at every important junction in
my life, Saito Sensei has been there. He was at Iwama during the
years I spent as an uchi deshi under the Founder, Morihei
Ueshiba. Six years after the Founder’s death, Saito Sensei
came, at my invitation, to a demonstration for an Aikido club on
Misawa Air force base, where I was teaching—a demonstration
that led to the opportunity for me to come to the US for the first
time. Now, 20 years later, in October 1995, I had the opportunity
to invite Saito Sensei to instruct at Aikido Nippon Kan in Denver,
Colorado. It seems like only the blink of an eye—the time
has gone by so quickly. I remember experiences from the past as
if they happened yesterday. I am 45 years old now, and Saito Sensei
is 67. As time passes and we grow older, I think our temperament
and values change, becoming more tolerant and generally more accepting.
During our seminar, as I took care of Saito Sensei and watched him
teach, I clearly realized just how much time had passed, and just
how many memories I had. As Saito Sensei taught, I never heard him
talk about universal powers, God, auras, peace, or ki, and I never
heard him make any other cosmic references. Yet in each of his movements,
his body displayed the feelings that these words strive to capture.
This power to touch people’s hearts through the eloquence
of his movements is what separates him from others. His physical
technique and his philosophy are simple and planted firmly on the
ground. Who he is and what he teaches is based on realism, not on
illusive concepts that can deceive or confuse. As I interviewed
Saito Sensei, I couldn't help feeling that I was listening to a
father getting on in years, passing the wisdom of his experience
on to future generations.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
Saito Shihan, you are very healthy. What do you think the secret
is to your good health?
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
Now I am 67 years old. In Japan that makes me eligible to join the
senior citizen’'s activity groups. I receive many flyers and
invitations to join senior citizen activities from the Iwama town
office. I don’t feel I am quite ready for that, though. What
is the secret to my health? There is no secret, really. I don’t
eat too much meat or fatty foods. I eat foods high in fiber. Going
on seminar tours is a good chance for me to lose a little weight;
I usually don’t eat a great deal while I am traveling. Denver
has been an exception, however. Eating the meals that Homma-kun
has prepared for me has stimulated my appetite. [“Kun”
is a suffix indicating familiarity.] If I did have a secret to good
health, it would be to keep busy. I try to create a very busy situation
for myself, keeping every day full of positive activity. My daily
motto is that, with every step I take, there must be another task
waiting to be completed. The same day I get back from this US tour,
I will travel to northern Honshu to give a demonstration at the
Tohoku Regional Aikido Demonstration.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
During the time I lived at the Aiki shrine dojo in Iwama, everyone
called you Iwama’s “Mou-chan.” [“Mou”
is short for Morihiro, and “chan” is a term of endearment.]
or “Iwama’s Napoleon.” How did you get these names?
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
From the time I became an uchi deshi at Iwama Dojo until
the Founder’s death, I was a very busy young man. During the
period that I was an uchi deshi, I also worked for the Japan
National Railroad. The only time I had to myself was on the trip
from the dojo to the train station and back. Other than that, I
had no personal time. My life consisted of work and practice. I
was not able to listen to music or follow the latest fads or sports
like the other boys my age. Sometimes I worked the night shift for
the railroads, so my days and nights got mixed up. If I wanted to
take some extra time to do a personal chore—like repairing
my uniform, for example—I would have to shorten my sleeping
time. The townspeople around me used to say, “Napoleon needed
only three hours of sleep on his horse. Iwama’s Mou-chan dozing
in his clothes needs only 30 minutes of sleep before he is ready
to work again.” Eventually, the name “Napoleon”
stuck and became my nickname. My body has not forgotten those times—I’m
still busy! The nickname “Mou-chan” also brings back
memories. I didn’t choose for this to happen, but for some
reason the townspeople of Iwama and the surrounding areas were afraid
of that name. Everybody knew it, and it carried a stigma. If any
of the neighboring Yakuza or local boys tried to make trouble in
Iwama, the mention of the name “Iwama's Mou-chan” usually
stopped them. This was a great surprise to me! One day, just before
a festival was to be held in the town of Iwama, the local boys got
into a fight with a rival group from a neighboring town. It seemed
that this rival group wanted to take over vending space for the
festival, and they thought this might be a good chance to invade
Iwama territory. They called their group together and ventured into
Iwama with the Yakuza at the lead. One of the young men from Iwama
ran to me and asked for my help in fending off their rivals. At
first I refused, not wanting to get involved in their personal fights.
But, being young and not knowing the meaning of fear, I eventually
agreed to help them. Wearing leather boots to protect my feet and
a heavy leather jacket to protect myself from a knife attack, I
set out to lend a hand. I was surprised when I arrived at the scene.
I had no idea how many people had gathered in the street, ready
to fight! Not knowing what else to do, I walked directly between
the two groups and said, “Fighting on the day of a shrine
festival is not good.” The rival boss stepped up to me and
asked, “Hey you, young guy—who are you?” “I
am Saito,” I replied, but that got little response. Then someone
from Iwama screamed out, “He is Iwama's Mou-chan!” At
that, the rival boss got down on his hands and knees, lowered his
head to the ground, and apologized. I told the Iwama boys who had
started the fight to apologize, too. Then I grabbed the leaders
from both groups and steered them into a local sake bar. Lecturing
the Iwama boys, I said sternly, “Anyone who starts a fight
is in the wrong and must remedy the situation by serving sake to
those they have hurt. Fix this situation now!” And with that
I left. Most of the townspeople knew my nickname but not my face,
since I was so busy working all the time. Because I practiced Aikido,
my reputation seemed to grow of its own accord. I was often called
to resolve minor disputes, even before the police were called. I’'m
still not sure whether my reputation was a good one or a bad one.
[Laughs] Of course, I no longer have a reputation of that kind.
Those days were a lot different from today. The times were more
innocent—especially in the countryside.
Gaku Homma Sensei: It
seems to me that you are still Iwama’s Napoleon. During this
seminar tour, in a two-week period, you have traveled to the US
from Japan, taught on both the east and west coasts, and then came
to Denver with no rest in between. That seems like a strenuous schedule
to me. As you see it, what makes life worth living?
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
What makes me the happiest is teaching what I have inherited from
the Founder. I find great fulfillment in visiting my students all
over the world, being able to stay in their homes, teaching and
practicing together. When I am home at Iwama, if there is a little
extra time, I enjoy spending it at the Aiki no Ie [Aiki cottage],
sitting around the irori [sunken fireplace] with old friends,
eating and drinking together. That is a happy time for me. On a
day like that, I like to do most of the cooking. I am not a particularly
picky eater, but I am particular when I am cooking. For example,
I like to make my own sauce from chilies I have grown in my garden.
I have a special way of blending the chilies with sesame oil. It
has to be just so. I also like to make my own udon [white
flour noodles] and soba [buckwheat noodles]. I like to dry
and grind the grain, knead the dough, and cut the noodles myself.
My son Hitohiro runs his own soba restaurant, so I have a
source of fresh organic buckwheat. I don’t like to say so
myself, but I think my noodles have a pretty good reputation. I
also enjoy going to the hinoki buro [cypress bathhouse] to
relax. I can’t describe how good that feels. I am already
a grandfather; I have 13 grandchildren. Still, I believe that for
people who have their own dojos, there is no retirement.
It is my destiny to continue. I feel it is my obligation to teach
the Founder’s Aikido to as many students as possible. When
I die, a direct link to his technique will disappear. I have been
given the gift of 23 years of experience with the Founder…What
I have learned, I have learned from him, and what I have learned,
I feel compelled to teach. Other shihan have freedom, but I do not.
There are shihan scattered throughout Japan and all over the world
who, at one point, gathered at the Founder’s feet to practice.
The Founder understood the essence of Aikido, and he held it in
the palm of his hand. Those who gathered briefly at his feet never
quite grasped the gift that the Founder held in his hand—and
then they left. Iwama is for Aikidoists what, for example, Mecca
is for Muslims, or the Vatican is for Catholics. Metaphorically,
Iwama is a lighthouse, and it is my obligation to keep its light
shining brightly. To other shihan, the lighthouse symbolizes the
great undertakings and achievements of the Founder. They use this
light to illuminate their way as they navigate freely in boats of
their own making. As long as this light continues to shine from
Iwama, the roots of Aikido continue to exist. I believe it is very
important not to forget this point. I joined Iwama Dojo in 1946.
Until his death, I spent every day for 23 years with the Founder.
Since his death, I have remained at Iwama, even though I hold the
position of shihan at Aikikai Hombu Dojo. Every day, I remain dedicated
to keeping the light shining brightly in the lighthouse left by
the Founder. I have heard that some Aikidoists distinguish Iwama-style
techniques from “more modern Aikido,” calling Iwama-style
traditional and even old-fashioned. In my opinion, this is a mistake.
I believe that, if we deny the origins of our own practice, we negate
its validity. When people say that Iwama-style Aikido is old-fashioned,
they remind me of people cutting a tree branch away from the trunk
while they are sitting on the branch. I would never say that Iwama-style
Aikido is the only valid form of Aikido. Each instructor has his
or her own individual character that is built on his or her cultural
background and environment. It is only natural that different styles
and different organizations have developed. Traveling all over the
world has helped me to understand this, as I have come in contact
with many different people, places, and cultures. I think it is
good for students to learn from many different instructors and to
practice at many different dojos. However, I also believe that it
is vitally important to practice the founding techniques of Aikido.
We cannot forget the source of our practice. In people’s lives,
there usually comes a time when they reflect on their own roots
and heritage. I think that it is important for each of us to include
a study of the Founder’s technique as we travel on our own
Aikido journey. Our closest link to the source is the Founder, Morihei
Ueshiba, and the closest link to him is Iwama Dojo. It is important
to the Aikido community that more people realize that the roots
of our practice lie with the Founder. It is important to pass on
the great undertakings and achievements of the Founder correctly—even
if that is done one person at a time. For that reason, I keep the
light in the lighthouse burning brightly at Iwama. That is why I
have no freedom. Instead of freedom, I have my destiny—and
I appreciate it. Keeping the Founder’s dojo alive and well
is what makes my life worth living.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
I know it was long ago, but could you tell us what it was like when
you were an uchi deshi at Iwama dojo?
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
I joined Iwama Dojo in 1946. That was just after Japan had lost
the war, and there were not many resources available; it was a very
poor time. Born and raised in the town of Iwama, I joined the dojo
when I was 18 years old. Not long afterward, a few of the Founder’s
uchi deshi from Hombu Dojo came to Iwama. Gozo Shioda [the
Founder of Yoshinkan Aikido] moved in with his family of six (which
surprised me a little). They stayed for about two years. Koichi
Tohei [Founder of Ki Aikido] also came at about the same time, after
being discharged from military service. I remember wondering at
the time whether the war had made him tough and strong. He left
the dojo when he got married. And there were two other students
who became uchi deshi at the same time I did. One has since
become a regional education director, and the other is now a member
of the Diet. I am the only one left still hanging around Iwama!
[Laughs] It’s hard to imagine what Iwama looked like at the
time. Where you now see houses, there were acres of wild woods.
None of the roads were paved, and when it rained some of them would
turn to ankle-deep mud. We wore geta [wooden sandals] with
one slat protruding from the bottom, since mud would get lodged
between the slats of regular two-slat geta making them too
heavy. One-slat geta were better for walking in the mud—and
on dry ground they were useful for developing balance and coordination!
We used very little electricity, especially in the areas surrounding
the dojo. At night it was so dark that someone could walk up and
pinch your nose and you still couldn’t see who it was! The
Founder was a prominent member of the community, and he had the
distinction of having the only electricity in the area. The contrast
between the surrounding darkness and the glowing lights at the dojo
at night made the place seem magical. Later on, when my home was
built, we pulled electric lines from the Founder’s house to
my house as well. At the time, this was considered pretty luxurious.
The townspeople thought that the goings-on at Ueshiba-san’s
dojo were a little unusual. For example, the way we uchi
deshi dressed caused more than a few startled looks as we passed
through town. We wore keiko gi (tattered and patched at the
collar), faded hakama (much shorter than today’s, about
ankle length), and haori (short kimono jackets) decorated
with batik patterns. We carried iron jos to make our arms stronger,
swinging them and dragged them noisily behind us as we walked. The
townspeople were known to say that they would not let their sons
go to Ueshiba-san’s home for any reason. As a threat, parents
would warn their wayward sons that, if they didn’t shape up,
they would be sent to Ueshiba-san’s. [Laughs] They used to
call us a ban kara [a rough, tough looking group]. Hearing
the local gossip, the Founder would warn us with a smile not to
scare the townspeople too much. A few years after the end of the
war, life began to return to normal. The country was still in transition,
and there were many people without jobs. Many joined the Iwama dojo
looking for a new chance at life. Although we had a garden at the
dojo, there were soon more mouths to feed than we could handle.
The Founder put the new uchi deshi to work clearing nearby
fields so that they could be planted. The fields were covered with
dense groves of bamboo, whose web of tangled roots made clearing
an extremely taxing job. A few of the new recruits decided that
the work was too hard, banded together, and disappeared into the
night. The work was hard for me, too. But, even if I had wanted
to runaway, there was no place else for me to go, since I had been
born and raised in Iwama. In fact, I still haven't left! [Laughs]
After the field-clearing incident, the Founder did not often order
people to perform tasks that were that difficult. The area at the
dojo where we now practice bokken and jo is where the Founder and
his wife had their private garden. Other larger fields were planted
with potatoes, peanuts, and rice. These days, I have a small garden
that I tend as a hobby. Only a few selected uchi deshi are
allowed to work in the garden. Actually, most uchi deshi
are specifically asked not to work in the garden. When they do,
there is only more work needed to repair what they have done. [Laughs]
The last uchi deshi who worked in the gardens were you, Homma-kun,
and the Founder’s maid, Kikuno-san. I remember you with a
bundle of vegetables strapped to your back as you left for Tokyo’s
Hombu Dojo to accompany the Founder as his otomo [assistant].
After the Founder’s death there were no other uchi deshi
who worked specifically in the gardens.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
I remember, too. At the time, I was only 17 years old. Those days
were hard. After the Founder completed his daily morning ceremony,
I would accompany him to the garden to pick the vegetables for use
in that day's meals or, if there were extra, to take to Hombu Dojo
in Tokyo. Speaking of Hombu Dojo—I have read many articles
and books on Aikido history written by Hombu uchi deshi.
But, when I accompanied the Founder to Tokyo, there were no uchi
deshi living at Hombu Dojo. Could you clarify this?
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
At the end of the war, there were many uchi deshi living
at Hombu Dojo. For the most part, those people are very old or have
already passed away. After the war ended, the Founder lived mostly
at Iwama, going to Tokyo for only special ceremonies or events…Of
the last generation of students to study directly under the Founder,
many who say they were his uchi deshi were actually 2nd or
3rd dan shidoin [assistant instructors] at Hombu Dojo. Most
received the equivalent of about two hundred dollars a month salary,
lived in cheap apartments near the dojo, and came to the dojo only
for practice. These kayoi deshi [students who lived outside
the dojo] did not take care of the Founder. Except when they were
assisting him as uke, the kayoi deshi were not allowed
near him. The Founder commanded that much respect. Many now say
that they were close to the Founder, but that was not actually the
case. Late in the Founder’s life, just before he passed away,
even high-ranking shihan were only allowed to offer greetings; they
were not even in the position to engage him in conversation. The
Founder did not want to have many people close to him, and there
were really very few who personally took care of him.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
When speaking of those who took care of the Founder in his private
life, we can’t forget your wife. Could you tell us a little
about her?
Morihiro Saito Sensei: In 1951, the Founder cleared the land where
my house now stands. We built the house together. In the yard there
is a chestnut tree that the Founder planted. Since I was an uchi
deshi, it was understood that I would attend the Founder. My
baba [nickname for wife or grandmother] was not a student
of the Founder, and so she was not under the same obligation. But
she worked harder than even I did to take care of the Founder and
his wife. I went to work every day, and so I was not always at the
dojo. My baba worked 24 hours a day for 18 years taking care
of them. She took such good care of them that, if for some reason
she could not be there, the Founder’s wife Hatsu would have
trouble knowing where everything was. Once Hatsu became ill and
had trouble speaking. My baba understood what she was trying
to say just by watching her mouth the words. That's how much time
she spent with them. I have received promotions and recognitions
of achievement from Hombu Dojo, but my baba is the person deserving
the most credit when it came to taking care of the Founder and his
wife. Only my baba could talk to the Founder directly, giving
him advice and offering her opinions. In addition to caring for
the Founder, she has also taken care of our own family and countless
uchi deshi over the years. I appreciate my wife very much.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
I remember your wife very well. She always knew when to appear with
a large rice bowl filled to the brim. As you just said, if the Founder
was angry and your wife would appear, the Founder’s mood would
miraculously change to that of a happy child. It always amazed me.
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
Just before the Founder went to the hospital in Tokyo, the effects
of his illness were at their worst. We all felt very sad for him,
but it was difficult to get close to him. It was sad to see a great
martial artist nearing his end. That was a difficult time for you
too, Homma-kun, since you cared for him privately. The Founder’s
temperament was unpredictable at best. If his mood was bad when
you entered, you would get caught in his wrath. During the last
year of his life, no one visited the Founder from Tokyo, because
they didn’t want to get involved. That was a very lonely and
tumultuous time for the Founder. It must have been difficult both
for you, Homma-kun and for Kikuno-san, since you were so young.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
It was a difficult time. Maybe it was because we were so young that
the Founder felt comfortable with us and talked with us, even near
the end. Turning to recent events, Sensei, what did you think about
the seminar here in Denver?
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
I was first surprised that over 300 people registered for the full
three-day seminar. That is quite a number! It was nice to see a
seminar that did not draw attendance by offering “candy”
such as ranking examinations, etc. That an independent dojo like
Nippon Kan can attract that many students from all over the world
on a seminar’s own merits is very good. I understand there
were students in attendance from more than 17 different organizations
and from other independent dojos. I’m very pleased that so
many came. I think the Founder in heaven must be happy, too. The
martial arts community, including the Aikido community, is facing
a future where more and more groups will become independent—especially
in the US and Europe. The Founder’s organization, the Aikikai,
must pay attention to this. I believe that, rather than concentrating
on making stricter rules and more restrictions, they would be wiser
to acknowledge and respect independent organizations. That would
pave the way for stronger relationships and a more stable future.
Going beyond the boundaries of affiliation or style offers a wonderful
opportunity for nice people to get together, as this seminar demonstrates.
The Founder’s philosophy of love and harmony was manifest
at this Denver seminar. I would be happy to travel anywhere to teach
at any such a gathering. That is my mission. You, Homma-kun, are
not affiliated with the Aikikai or with Iwama-style Aikido. But
that is not an issue. That an independent dojo like Nippon Kan can
gather over 300 people together is something that must not be overlooked.
Your students should be proud of your dojo’s unique structure
of activities—and of the reputation it has earned through
your contributions to the community. I do not think it is necessary
to turn your dojo’s accomplishments over to another organization.
Privately, I hope that I can continue to be an advisor and supporter
of Nippon Kan. As I foresee more independent dojos in the future,
I want this one to set a good example for others to follow. I have
great expectations for your role as an established independent dojo.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
Thank you very much, Saito Sensei.
Morihiro Saito Sensei:
Over the course of the seminar I heard people saying, “Iwama-style
Aikido is a lot more user friendly than I thought it would be. I
thought Saito Sensei’s style would be more strict and severe.”
My motto for teaching is to have a happy practice that clearly demonstrates
the day’s lesson, so that students can understand fully and
take it back home with them. Of course, I always want a safe practice
with no accidents or injuries. While I am teaching, if I feel my
explanations are going to be lengthy, I ask students to sit comfortably.
If the room is crowded, I ask people in the back to stand up so
they can see. I try to move around the room, so that everyone has
a chance to see clearly. I make my explanations slowly and clearly.
I'm not interested in just throwing ukes wildly into the air. This
year alone, I have traveled overseas three times. All in all, I
have taught seminars in outside Japan over 50 times. I honestly
do not know how long I will be able to continue teaching all over
the world. If my health continues to be good, I feel I must continue
my mission as a testimonial to the Founder. It makes me very happy
that I have wonderful students actively teaching and practicing
in the US and all over the world. I trust my students to carry on
my will and philosophy. Because of their efforts, people from all
over the world travel to Iwama to train as uchi deshi. On
rare occasions, I have heard of students who have trained at Iwama
and then returned to their own country only to cause problems with
other Aikido groups. This concerns me, because these people obviously
did not completely understand the training they were receiving at
Iwama. They perpetuate their misunderstandings by misrepresenting
Iwama-style Aikido to others. This has never been my intention.
It is important, as a first priority, that we work smoothly with
others within the Aikido community on a friendly basis. These days
I travel with my otomo, but there have been times when I
have traveled by myself. Once, when I arrived in an airport in the
northwest US, there was no one there to meet me. Since I can’t
speak English, this was a problem! Luckily, a group of Japanese
tourists passed by, and I tagged along with their group to get out
of the airport. [Laughs]. I can’t forget the many times I
have carried my rice cooker in my bag, cooking for myself as I traveled.
I never imagined I would be sitting at Homma-kun’s house eating
Japanese food in Denver, Colorado.
Gaku Homma Sensei:
It has been an honor and a pleasure, Sensei. Thank you very much.
After his arrival in Denver, one of the first questions Saito Shihan asked me was “What techniques should I teach this evening?” After every class, he asked whether the lesson was adequate and whether a certain series of techniques would be appropriate for the next class. I was impressed by his earnest and professional manner. After practice in the waiting room, Saito Sensei thanked everyone in attendance and offered them fruit and refreshments. It was a pleasure to see such warmth and kindness offered by a man of his dignified position. A mood of generosity prevailed around him during the entire seminar. During the closing Thank-You Party, we accompanied Saito Sensei to the rest-room and waited by the sink to hand him a towel to wipe his hands. I was touched as I watched him carefully tidy up the sink that had been splashed by others as a courtesy to the next user. I accompanied Saito Sensei, his translator, his otomo, and other guests to San Francisco to see them off to Japan. Before the plane landed in San Francisco, I watched as Saito Sensei removed the air-sick bag from the pocket of the seat in front of him. I was concerned that he was not feeling well. But he merely asked all of us in his escort whether we had any trash to throw away, collected our napkins and wrappers in the bag, and then tucked it back neatly into the pocket in front of him. He said that this would help make the job easier for the person who had to clean up the plane. Saito Sensei made sure that his otomo was well taken care of, even offering him a portion of his own meals. He also took care of one of my students who acted as driver in San Francisco, grabbing his hand and discreetly depositing a token kokoro zuke [thank-you payment] into his palm. Saito Sensei’s position as a leader in the global Aikido community has been built on a lifetime of hard work and effort. He is a real bujin [martial artist]. His humanity, kindness, and thoughtfulness remain imprinted in my memory—where they remind me of the private side of the Founder, Morihei Ueshiba. As we walked through the crowded airport terminal, my mind switched back to an occasion when I walked with the Founder through a crowded station in Ueno, Japan. The way they walked was very much the same.