by Régis Soavi

One of the great strengths of aikidō lies in its high degree of mobility and its rotational movements. These movements create spirals that generate a combination of centripetal and, their counterpart, centrifugal forces, forming an invisible shape that is constantly unfolding: the sphere.

Techniques that use a rear attack provide the clearest visualisation of this sphere. The rotation of planets, which spin on their own axes while orbiting a star, is also a good example of what it means to move around a centre. As for nearby meteorites, they either bounce off the atmosphere or are sucked into the centre of the planet and crash into it, while most comets move away from it.

Entering the sphere

When rotation occurs around several axes that are sometimes intertwined, it becomes difficult to determine where the centres and peripheries are, and which is the front and back. These can appear in turn and can even be reversed. This is why aikidō offers great advantages when it comes to attacks from behind, whether in the case of Tori or Uke, as they become interchangeable. Regardless of the size or bulk of the centre, it is its density that makes the difference.

Although small in stature, O-sensei Ueshiba Morihei could throw an attacker a great distance thanks to his use of centripetal force, which would transform into centrifugal force and then into a spiral, and even into a sphere that rolled away on the tatami. How can we create this sphere with such a dense centre to make throws of this nature possible?

Grabs from behind provide the opportunity to do so. Technically, they often begin with a shomen uchi or yokomen uchi type attack which transforms into a grab of one or both wrists from behind. It is Tori’s movement that puts Uke in danger, creating this quasi-obligation, or in any case this opportunity, to immobilise Tori. For teaching purposes, it is pedagogically necessary at the beginning to allow the partner to grab Tori’s outstretched hand, but this would become incomprehensible after a few years of practice. In fact, I would even argue that it would be counterproductive if one is truly interested in our art. Direct grabs of both wrists together from behind are difficult for Uke, who will often prefer to grab the sleeves of the keikogi instead. If the body is well centred, it is quite easy to escape this situation simply by focusing on the hara and moving the koshi. Relevant techniques will arise naturally from the posture of the two practitioners, their breathing, their ability to seize the moment and their determination. Often, if Tori follows their instinct rather than assumptions and acts with spontaneity, fluidity and vigilance without seeking a predefined technique or solution, they will easily shake off Uke’s control.

From a pedagogical point of view, grabs from behind are also interesting because they force students to move differently. Many of them tend to work in a straight line, similar to karate. They stretch to resist pressure using tai sabaki and make increasingly shorter movements. Inevitably, their techniques become increasingly harsh, and despite their efforts, often ineffective.

Imagination or visualisation?

There is a big difference between whether the aim of the hold is “simple” immobilisation or “pure and simple” aggression, with all the risks that this entails. Training is a role-playing game in which everyone has their place. In order to rediscover or acquire the skills needed to deploy our vital force, it is essential to allow spontaneity to take over, based on the technical fundamentals we have practised. However, visualisation plays a key role. Visualisation and imagination are two profoundly different processes. Imagination is a product of the brain and involves only the brain, whereas visualisation originates in the koshi. It is a product of our vital energy, involving both the mind and the whole body without any separation between them. Visualisation is an act of fundamental concentration that connects with a primary type of sensitivity arising from the involuntary. This enables Uke to perform grabs or atemis that are more concrete, which allows Tori to perceive them as dangerous enough to prompt a reaction, even if they are controlled. In contrast, imagination does not lead to immediate action and cannot be perceived by Tori as anything other than an attitude or posture devoid of force or power – an imaginary or dreamlike movement.

To work slowly

For precise work and a proper understanding of the direction and power of the forces set in motion, slowness seems essential to me. This increases the effectiveness of the grab without endangering the partner. Working slowly does not mean being slow; rather, it means working in slow motion. It is important not to rush to grab a wrist or sleeve if doing so leaves you exposed and gives your partner the opportunity to deliver an atemi or simply take the centre, thereby destabilising you. When performing the ushiro katate dori kubi shime grab, it is very important to emphasise that it can turn into a stranglehold and is, in fact, already a stranglehold (to do this this, simply press on the upper sternum without touching the neck). but above all, you must have a careful posture that is both firm and flexible and does not put you in danger. Only then will you understand how dangerous this technique is. If you move too quickly from the outset before mastering these attacks, the technique will be sloppy and could lead to a brawl.

If I ain’t seen or felt it, I’m dead¹words reported by Léo Tamaki in the video GregMMA et Aikido (13 Dec. 2019) on Youtube channel Karaté Bushido Officiel

One of the most dangerous attacks one can face is that of a skilled opponent armed with a knife, in a confined space, and especially when one has their back turned. During a friendly encounter organised by magazine Karaté Bushido and involving an MMA fighter, Léo Tamaki made the following statement in reference to an attack from behind with a tantō: ‘If I ain’t seen or felt it, I’m dead.’ One could argue that this goes unnoticed because it is stated as an obvious fact and expresses an indisputable reality. It touches on the essential because, even if we cannot see behind us, we can still sense, feel what is happening.

This is precisely why it is necessary to rediscover and develop the concept of yomi in aikidō, as in all martial arts: the ability to perceive intention, which can also be translated as intuition. This ability is undoubtedly an essential element in an individual’s development through practice. There is an anecdote about a samurai who turned around at the last moment to save his life by eliminating an enemy who was attacking him from behind. While we cannot verify the truth of such stories, it is clear that the concepts of yomi and sakki (the will to attack or destructive ki) are still relevant today²cf. magazine Yashima #4, May 2019. This is especially important when it comes to attacks from behind, as it is essential to cultivate and maintain our sensitivity in this direction.

When life is at stake, unexpected strengths can emerge. While it is completely impossible to train to bring out these strengths, training in different types of martial arts can be considered a preparation for the unpredictable. All techniques in aikidō are katas, although they do not bear this name. Their purpose is not to learn how to destroy an opponent or enemy, but to awaken the individual within us and enable us to access all our abilities whenever needed. This does not mean that they lack effectiveness – quite the contrary. If used well, they can be formidable. However, there is little chance that they can be applied in exactly the same way outside the context of the dōjō. This is because they are taught and practised without the tension of real risk, such as that experienced in a street attack. The conditions for their effective application are not always present. Very little can cause everything to falter.

Fear

If we want to get out of a situation safely, fear is a decisive factor that can change everything. If we are overcome by fear or have never faced a critical or genuinely dangerous situation before, it is very hard to predict how we will react if we are attacked. During randori, which we practise at the end of each session in our school regardless of level, there is always a risk of grabs or atemis from behind. Great importance is therefore given to movement, but even more so to the feeling of danger that can arise from one or more Ukes. It is thanks to this that “something” can develop, which could be called intuition. However, since this is a reality that we do not control a priori, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to rely on it without risking losing our abilities when we need them most. Developing our powers of perception through mindfulness is therefore one of the goals of the practice. Above all, however, it should allow intuitive abilities to emerge that can be used in everyday life and, even more importantly, in unexpected situations or serious cases.

Action and perception

Cognitive science has opened up a field of study that allows us to understand many aspects of human beings, both in terms of thought and action. This enables martial arts practitioners, such as ourselves, to clarify and give names to teachings that might otherwise seem obscure. We can restore the prestige of our masters’ teachings when they are disparaged as a mystical view of the world. This is particularly true of our perceptions, which are often considered “extrasensory”, when in fact they are simply the result of daily training and practice in an art such as aikidō.

Today, researchers redefine perception as follows: ‘perceiving is a way of acting. Perception is not something that happens to us, or in us. It is something we do.’³Alva Noë, Action in Perception, MIT Press, Boston 2004, p. 1 (see also Alva Noë, ‘Précis of Action in Perception’, PSYCHE, Vol. 12, Issue 1 (March 2006), p. 1) Our perception is expressed in the language of motor potentialities.⁴[Action in Perception (op. cit.), p. 106. Seems a rather loose adaptation, most probably from just before section 3.10: ‘To experience a property is[…] to grasp its sensorimotor profile. It is to experience the object [of sight] as determining possibilities of and for movement.’]

On this subject, philosopher M. B. Crawford wrote: ‘our perception of possibilities for action depends not only on the environmental situation, but also on a person’s skill set. A martial artist faced with a belligerent man at a bar sees the way the man is standing, and his distance, as affording certain strikes and foreclosing others, should it become necessary. Because of long practice and habituation, when he looks at the man’s stance, this is what he sees. He may also perceive the furniture nearby, and the objects lying within reach on the bar, in terms of their affordances⁵intuitions, possibilities [note by Régis Soavi] for combat. He sees things that people like you and I don’t.’⁶Matthew Bunker Crawford, Virtual Reality as a Moral Ideal, The New Atlantis, 2025

Do not overlook anything

In the practice of aikidō, nothing is useless. However, if we neglect perception or sensitivity (which is often confused with mawkishness⁷[In French, the characteristic of being sensitive – i. e. sensitiveness – has two versions, both coming from the adjective sensible (=sensitive, lit. “able to feel”): sensibilité and sensiblerie, the latter being a pejorative – because supposedly exaggerated – version of the former.]) in favour of technique, we risk missing out on a large part of the practice. The opposite is also true, of course – both are indispensable. Nevertheless, it is possible for everyone not to limit themselves to what they know and to accept moving towards what they do not know, what is yet to be discovered, what sometimes seems mysterious or even impossible.

Tsuda Itsuo sensei

One of the exercises that my master Tsuda sensei set us involved throwing our partner from the seiza position. It seemed extremely simple at first, at least in theory, but when it came to putting it into practice, it proved a little more challenging. Tori sits motionless while Uke grabs their keikogi at shoulder level behind them. The idea is to simply bow as if greeting someone, without force or tension, thus creating a vacuum that pulls the partner in. Despite being firmly anchored to the tatami mats and using all their strength, the partner is unable to resist and falls forward. Logically, as soon as there is resistance, we tense up, contract our whole body, get angry, and accuse our partner of not playing the game. However, I have seen Tsuda sensei demonstrate this technique to us many times with a smile. I tried to test him on this technique, but to no avail; he bowed inexorably with the greatest of simplicity.

His secret: visualisation. When we were struggling, he would often tell us, ‘Stop thinking in terms of adversity,’ and then demonstrate by making a student fall after pointing to a chosen spot and saying the magic phrase, ‘I am already there,’ thus expressing the concrete realisation of his visualisation.

Régis Soavi

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Article by Régis Soavi published in April 2020 in Dragon Magazine Spécial Aikido n° 28.

Photo credits: Paul Bernas, Didier Balick