An analysis of sources contemporary to, or near-contemporary with, the events they describe reveals an intriguing pattern. During periods characterized by active warfare punctuated only by brief truces we can speak only of the existence of military skills and the traditions that preserved them.
In this context, military skills are primarily focused on cultivating dexterity and physical strength, manifesting as specific techniques applicable to immediate, concrete situations. The veneration of martial prowess, often tied to membership in a specific class or caste, frequently serves as the tradition that maintains and develops these skills. However, during a prolonged period of peace, when these skills lose their daily relevance and, consequently, the imperative to sustain them, they are gradually supplanted by a new phenomenon that requires its own distinct tradition of preservation.
A salient example of this transition is found in 16th and 17th-century Japan. Following an extended era of civil war, the country entered a long period of peace. In a remarkably short period, a multitude of weapons schools sprang up. Their founders, typically veterans of real combat who had later practiced as wandering fencers, saw their art transformed when fencing duels were banned in 1650. Simultaneously, military skills remained essential for former samurai who transitioned into roles as bodyguards or members of gangs controlling gambling houses. These martial skills, figuratively embodied in their practitioners, sought relevance in a new social order. They would later re-emerge in full splendor—altered in form and sustained through a period of obsolescence—during the infamous Ikedaya Inn incident of 1864, Satsuma Rebellion of 1877 and other conflicts at the end of the Edo period and the beginning of the Meiji era.
Japanese war chronicles and military tales contain no explicit records of formal “martial arts schools” or “styles.” The primary military skill was archery, preserved through practices such as dog shooting from horseback. Archery was considered a natural attribute of a military aristocrat, a tacit skill rather than a specialized craft requiring mastery. What garnered admiration was the physical prowess to draw the heaviest bow and pierce both rider and saddle in a single shot. Archery accuracy was not a separate skill or path to self-improvement; it was integral to the discipline itself. Conversely, warriors exhibiting exceptional swordsmanship were occasionally singled out for praise by authors of military tales. The only evidence of an established tradition or school of swordsmanship appears in the Tale of the Hōgen Disturbance, which mentions warriors from Tsukushi (in present-day Fukuoka Prefecture, Kyushu) who were renowned for their skill in swordsmanship. Jiro Taifu Noritaka, a prominent swordsman who trained several figures in the tale, is also noted as a resident of Tsukushi at that time.
It is likely that the first dedicated fencing schools emerged in Japan during the early Sengoku period. This was an era in which traditional samurai duels—fought with bows or swords—were increasingly supplanted by mass infantry tactics utilizing spears, bows, and, eventually, firearms. However, these early schools should not be mistaken for martial arts institutions in the modern sense. Rather, they served to cultivate and preserve individual combat skills that were rapidly becoming obsolete on the actual battlefield.
The conceptual framework of lineage and self-perfection only emerged when skilled warriors ceased risking their lives daily. Their students, possessing both time and incentive, exchanged immediate practicality for more ephemeral goals: the pursuit of ideal mastery and self-discovery.
Similarly, pre-16th century Chinese chronicles lack reliable evidence of formal martial arts schools. While they occasionally reference talented warriors who may have been adherents of such systems, the chroniclers’ failure to emphasize this fact suggests that military skills were cultivated within a professional milieu rather than in dedicated schools. The 14th-century novel Water Margin, replete with references to individual martial prowess, depicts martial arts solely as proficiency in handling specific weapons. The novel references weapons instructors in the army, as well as individual fighters who independently mastered weapons skills or trained under the guidance of others like them—all without the presence of martial arts schools, formal tradition, or generational continuity. Only two references explicitly describe the transmission of skills across generations. The first involves a “secret weapon”—a pike fitted with a hook to drag a rider from horseback. The second, which warrants closer attention, concerns fistfighting. Unfortunately, there is no reason to assume that this practice constituted a developed, traditional Chinese martial art as we understand it today. Rather, it was likely a folk variant of fistfighting, similar to forms of wrestling common throughout the ancient world.
A telling example is the 16th-century military reformer Qi Jiguang. By consolidating extant military skills and developing standardized instructions, he inadvertently accelerated the transition from the mere cultivation of battlefield techniques toward the genesis of martial arts schools.
The illustrative silhouettes depicting weapon-handling positions in Chinese (and later Korean) treatises effectively convey only the technical component of a given skill. They cannot transmit the underlying knowledge, traditions, or stylistic nuances of a martial art. Such works are more accurately classified as training regulations or tactical manuals.
Traditions originating from ritual and religious practices are often regarded as forerunners of Chinese martial arts. However, given the considerable temporal and functional gap between these early practices and later martial developments, it would be inaccurate to classify them as either military skills or traditional martial arts schools. The same distinction applies to purely aesthetic or dance-based forms.
It is plausible, however, that martial arts schools existed and functioned within the long-standing militia units of Chinese villages. This hypothesis is indirectly supported by the typological resemblance between the weaponry preserved by such militias and that of prominent Chinese martial arts schools. Nevertheless, a distinction likely persists between military skills practiced within professional military circles and those cultivated in civilian contexts. Numerous observers who witnessed the physical exercises of the regular Qin army described them explicitly as drills intended to foster dexterity and courage, utilizing objects now associated with traditional martial arts.
In the Indo-Persian sphere, the enduring survival of ancient wrestling traditions stands in stark contrast to the fate of armed combat. This resilience is attributable to the peaceful, sportive nature of wrestling, which at the same time could easily be applied in a practical way. Moreover, many duels throughout the East, including Japan, concluded on the ground with grappling and a final dagger strike.
Unlike wrestling, cold steel traditions withered as history rendered them obsolete, surviving only as folk sports or dance entertainment. The last major conflict in the region involving significant use of cold steel was the Sepoy Rebellion. In this conflict, cold steel was employed by three forces according to their respective national traditions: the Hindus, the English, and the Hindus serving within the British native troops. Following the suppression of the revolt, the cultivation of indigenous martial skills in their original form was no longer possible.
In summary, during peacetime, the maintenance of purely practical military skills becomes inefficient and purposeless. These skills consequently transform into an “art,” existing within the idealized realm of schools and styles. Here, the focus shifts toward aesthetics, coordination, psychological discipline, and concentration. Conversely, in wartime, such arts must be ruthlessly simplified for immediate applicability.
Ultimately, the relevance of any military skill is determined by the demands of its era. Today, such skills are applied either in rule-bound sport or in real-world encounters involving knives or machetes. In this context, historical weaponry techniques and styles are best suited to the realm of hobby. Only wrestling — the most ancient martial art, unconstrained by national or geographic boundaries, remains a timeless skill, as essential and appropriate now as ever.