Bowing

I recently noticed a question on a traditional Japanese martial arts discussion forum on Facebook: “Is there a proper way to bow?” And this was followed by a lot of sincere answers, most of which were wrong, or not-really-right, at least from the perspective of a traditional martial arts practitioner, where specific acts have specific meanings. In modern martial arts practice, on the other hand, there is often have a laissez-faire attitude, where a lot of things can be ‘good enough,’ based on the instructor’s arbitrary, often not culturally grounded practice. (This goes equally for Japanese and non-Japanese modern martial arts practitioners).

Let’s start with this: a bow defines, within traditional Japanese martial culture, who you are. And the first time you meet someone determines your relationship. Truly, you define yourself to another at first meeting – it is very hard, if not impossible, to rectify this later, if you presented yourself in a way that is not true to yourself.

Standing Bow – Five Degrees

I rarely bow more than five degrees.

1. If you bow more than five degrees, you have to stick your butt out to counter-balance your  head. You could be pulled off balance with the slightest tug. Therefore, bowing too deeply lacks a ‘warrior’s mind.’
2.  Who are you? And in particular, who are you to me? If you are not of the same ryuha, then you are not, properly speaking, a part of the same social hierarchy as I am. You may be older, you may be more accomplished, but I am under no social obligation to you. The core meaning of bowing deeper to someone is that you lower yourself so that the more powerful person (be it muscle power or social capital), will not harm you – or out of respect, you deliberately establish a relationship so defined. From a classical perspective, if you are a member of another martial tradition, your power is a threat to me and mine, just by the fact you are breathing. Taken to an extreme, your existence is an affront merely by standing in front of me because, as a representative of your ryuha, you are implicitly stating that I am not a threat to you. By merely inclining my body, I am ‘stating’ that a) I’ve got my eyes on you, with no  hostility or threat, but maintaining continuous zanshin  b) I embody the spirit of my teacher and all my predecessors who, in creating their martial system, meant it to stand, undefeated, in the face of all others.

Your hands should slide along the sides of your legs, with just your fingertips touching your legs.

• If the entire hand slides along the legs, you become stiff – this is more the way a non-warrior bows, a crisp salute to one’s betters.
• If the hands go down the front of the thighs (for a man), this is an act of submission (and in a Japanese traditional context, a feminine way of bowing).
• For women, the hands do go down the front of the thighs – it would appear incongruously masculine to bow with the hands sliding down the sides of the legs. A woman takes a dominant ‘position,’ through a slow graceful, not-too-deep bow, with a perfectly upright body.

Standing Bow – Deeper

1. Of course, I bow deeper to my own teachers.
2. Sometimes I will bow deeper to those I have a debt, and those to whom I wish – genuinely – to offer respect. In a paradoxical way, I gift the person with my respect. Properly, respect should be an act of power rather than an act of submission.
3. There is also a deep bow given in false respect, something both parties are aware. This can be remarkably complicated.

Here is an example of the last: many decades ago, one of my instructors introduced me to an elderly man. We were in a group of about ten individuals, and my instructor, referring to him as sensei, bowed rather deeply. The elderly gentleman was the power behind the throne of the Sumiyoshi Rengo, one of the largest yakuza gangs in Japan. His role was similar to that of Meyer Lansky in the mid-twentieth century mafia. Taking a cue from my instructor, I formally said, “Hajimete ome ni kakarimasu. Amdur tomoshimasu.” a very formal way of introducing myself. He briefly acknowledged me and the social engagement continued for about an hour or so. He was friendly with me, a little curious about my foreign perspective towards Japanese politics (right-wing, of course). The group included several of his associates as well as those involved in Japanese politics and I thought I had managed myself well under the circumstances.

After my instructor and I took our leave, he said, “What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you introduce yourself like that?”

Confused, I said, “Sensei, I don’t know a more formal way to speak.”

He replied, “Formal! Are you an idiot? Since when do bushi bow to yakuza? You should have treated him with contempt. That would have reflected well on me.”

“But sensei. You bowed deeply to him. You called him sensei. You . . . .”

“Anta wa honto ni baka da na.” (You truly are an idiot.) “What is more contemptuous than pretending respect you do not feel. He knew that and I knew that. This would have been underscored had you known how to act.”

Parenthetically, I let me refer back to a previous post: The Question of “Discrimination” in Japanese Martial Traditions Consider the above exchange: that essay concerned the acceptance of non-Japanese within traditional martial arts. My teacher did not maintain an archaic practice as a living antique – he was still living his ryuha, enacting its principles to exert power on society, much like great “Meiji men,’ such as Sakamoto Ryōma, Kondō Isami, or Takechi Hanpeita. He referred to me as a ‘bushi.’ He did not mean by this that I was the reincarnation of some Japanese warrior of the past. Rather, he was a ‘bushi,’ a warrior in this modern age: as his student, I was too. Rather than the equivocal acceptance you so often see in traditional martial arts, I was fully ‘in,’ for better and for worse. And because of that, I should have been so attuned to him as to understand that his ‘respect’ of that individual was sarcasm, which I would have bolstered by disrespect, which would have given him the opportunity to insincerely apologize, which would have made the social hierarchy issue all the more stark while further increasing his status in apologizing for his barely tamed gaijin.

Bowing From Seiza

Generally speaking, women sit in seiza with their knees together, while men have their knees apart. The more space a man takes up, the more of an alpha position he is taking. As for women, in Japanese social hierarchy, they take space vertically – the more upright a woman sits, the more her eyes are cast directly outwards rather than down, the more of an alpha position she is taking. (Of course, men also take vertical space for the same reason, but I wish to highlight that women, too,  can take power positions in subtle but real ways, that are, traditionally speaking, different from those of men).

For men, the spread of the hands when bowing, too, is an act of social dominance or submission. The wider the hands are placed on the floor, the more an assumption of dominance. For women, the hands are generally placed together, fingers pointed forward.

• A proper bow should have the body straight from the tailbone to the back of the head. The back should never be curved or arched.
• You should never bow deeper than horizontal.
• Your hands should be placed so that you do not find yourself over-balanced forward – they should not be too close to your knees nor too far away.
• You should never counter-balance by sticking your butt up in the air.
• You should never bend your neck.

As I stated above, if bowing to a teacher or a person of respect, you bow lower, but if their bow is already low, then yours should be only a centimeter lower – and in no case should you bow lower than the horizontal. Were a person I respected to, nonetheless, make an error in his or her bow (such as bowing too deeply), I would not bow still lower to maintain my offer of respect. Were I to do so, I would disrespect myself, because I would be abandoning zanshin for a social gesture.

No part of this material may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, without permission in writing from the author. However, you are welcome to share a link to this article on such social media as Facebook, LinkedIn or Twitter. 

Purchase Ellis Amdur’s Books On Budo & De-escalation of Aggression Here

Note: If any of my readers here find themselves grateful for access to the information in my essays, you can express your thanks in a way that would be helpful to me in turn. If you have ever purchased any of my books, please write a review – the option is there on Amazon as well as Kobo or iBook. To be sure, positive reviews are valuable in their own right, but beyond that, the number of reviews bumps the algorithm within the online retailer, so that the book in question appears to more customers.