We Need Each Other - in Aikido and in Life (Part 1)

Our Aikido Partners: Challenge and Support, Giving and Receiving

Why would you teach someone how to throw you better? How can you help someone by attacking them more effectively? What happens when people of different weights, ages, genders, and experience levels train together? And why do we learn to attack in Aikido?

After just a few training sessions, beginners in Aikido realize that most of the work on the mat happens in pairs. Apart from the warm-up, practicing basic steps, and falling techniques, almost all the training is done with a partner. And that’s a good observation. In Aikido, we don’t usually practice techniques individually, like in karate; we don’t have prescribed forms like kata, we don’t hit bags, and we don’t shadowbox.

Even though there are individual exercises in our art, both unarmed and with weapons (and we should practice them to improve), our progress in Aikido primarily depends on working with a partner.

Since Aikido is about finding harmony within conflict, we need someone to create that conflict for us to practice. We need a partner.

However, working with another person in Aikido has a slightly different atmosphere than in most martial arts.

Among all the pairs currently training on the tatami, the most interesting are probably John and Peter. John is one of the club’s teachers, while Peter is almost a complete beginner—he started his first training session about four months ago. Another difference is that John is half a head shorter than Peter and about 20 kilos lighter.

And yet, their techniques look completely different, even though they are practicing the same thing. When John performs the technique, he steps in close to Peter, opens his chest with a large movement, and pulls him into a deep backbend with his arm. Then, with his whole body, he moves into the off-balance position, causing Peter to fall to the ground. John uses his entire body in such a way that the size difference between them hardly matters, and he moves at an angle where Peter doesn't have much strength.

In contrast, when Peter performs the same technique, he stands in the wrong spot, hardly moves his feet, and tries to execute the technique with his arm, which causes him to throw himself off-balance. John remains mostly stable, and when he bends backward, it's to show Peter the proper direction with his own body. From the outside, it looks like John is teaching Peter the technique by allowing him to throw him. And then, after a few repetitions, John stops Peter, shows him something, says a few words, and… Peter tries what John suggested, and his movement becomes much more effective—John finally falls due to a genuine loss of balance.

If you asked beginner Peter how it feels, he’d probably tell you he’s happy that the technique is finally starting to make sense to him.

Still, it’s a strange sight. What kind of martial art teaches you to help someone throw you better? After all, wouldn’t that mean losing your advantage, allowing the other person to defeat you? In traditional fighting and teaching methods, the secrets to effective techniques were often kept hidden, as sharing them was considered too risky. In Japan, they even used to say that a student had to “steal” the technique from the teacher.

So why do people in Aikido do it? Why do they help each other? There are many reasons… and they all point toward our individual and collective development. In Aikido, the more we give, the more we get in return.

Partners: Uke and Tori

In Aikido demonstrations and on various videos, you often see one person practicing techniques while others attack, only to be thrown and fall in all directions. It looks like the “master” is the skilled one, enjoying Aikido, while the attackers serve as throwing dummies, suffering for their aggressive impulses.

From such demonstrations, someone might feel inspired to become the skillful master, but probably few would want to be the one on the receiving end of the techniques. This division between the good and the bad, the winner and the loser, is the exact opposite of what we aim to achieve in Aikido.

In Aikido, there are no opponents, no rivals, and no enemies. The two people practicing techniques are partners. One attacks and then receives technique, and this person is called uke. The other performs the Aikido technique and is called tori. Uke attacks, tori uses the attack, performs the technique, and uke falls. After several repetitions, they switch roles.

Both of these roles are active, and both develop certain physical, mental, and martial qualities.

Of Course, We Attack in Aikido!

It’s sometimes said that there’s no attacking in Aikido because it’s a defensive martial art. That’s an interesting idea! But how would we learn defensive techniques without someone attacking us?

Of course, we attack in Aikido, and of course, we learn how to attack—how to grab, use a hold, strike, or cut. We learn how to use our bodies in a way that’s compact and relaxed, expressing our intent clearly and freely.

Indeed, people who practice Aikido aren’t doing it to hurt others. And so, we sometimes have understandable reservations about attacking—who wants to start a fight, after all?

On the other hand, we can notice that the better we attack as uke, the more interesting it becomes for tori to “perform” the technique. That’s why we should train attacks: to attack in a way that’s appropriate for what tori can handle. Not too strong—so that it doesn’t disrupt tori’s technique—and not too weak—so that tori doesn’t stop improving.

A good attack teaches tori to be in the right place at the right time, to be more precise, braver, and calmer. The attack is actually a gift to tori.

So when we attack as uke, we don’t need to do it with aggressive intent. The purpose of the attack is to provide the impulse for the technique… and for tori’s development.

The Technique That Develops the Attack

In a previous article, I wrote about the structure of technique: entering, leading, and finishing. This is what tori does in response to uke’s attack. Tori redirects uke’s attack, works with the incoming movement, extends it, guides it, and opens up new directions. Tori uses the natural possibilities of their body and the opportunities that arise from the shared movement with uke. If uke has a clear intent to attack, tori develops that intent without imposing their own.

Moreover, tori develops the technique in such a way that it respects the natural possibilities of uke’s body. Uke is not a moving punching bag for tori to prove how good they are. Uke offers their body so that tori can learn the technique—and tori should respect uke’s body during the technique, making sure no harm is done.

The Art of Accepting the Technique

When uke attacks, their work has only just begun. Uke’s most important task is to accept the technique—so that tori can perform the technique logically, fully, and safely. The word “uke” in Japanese doesn’t mean “attacker”; it means “the one who accepts.” And the word for falling is “ukemi,” which literally means “to receive with the body.” So uke in Aikido is not losing; falling is not defeat. Falling is accepting the technique, so uke stays healthy after the technique. And by accepting the technique, uke also develops important martial and life qualities: physical agility, mental openness, adaptability, and humility.

To tell the truth, falling into a well-executed technique feels just as liberating and magical as performing that technique with someone who knows how to fall properly. Uke and tori need each other and complement each other—and both roles can be equally fulfilling experiences.

Then, after four techniques, uke and tori switch roles. There’s no winner or loser; both improve with every repetition.

A Fulfilling Technique

Uke and tori each contribute from their own perspective, working together to create the technique. This exchange is not about who wins and who loses. By taking different roles and switching them, both participants improve themselves and also help each other grow. Every technique performed can be fulfilling for both of them. Ideally, they should feel physically and mentally better after each technique.

At the same time, both receive feedback from the shared practice—they continue learning what to improve and what still needs mastering. Bruce Lee once said: “To know oneself is to study oneself in action with another person… (This) relationship is a mirror in which you discover yourself.” That’s precisely the meaning of partner work in Aikido. And so, it’s clear that there’s no point in harming your partner; there’s no point in breaking the mirror.

(…continues in Part 2: Diversity and the Exchange of Inspiration in a Dojo)

(The article was first published in the Czech magazine “Martial Arts”, in September 2024)