Unarmed single combat -- mano a mano, as they say -- has a long history, and is a subject which fascinates most men, both young and old. As a boy, I can remember serious discussions with my friends concerning which style was most effective -- karate or kung fu, boxing or wrestling, etc. How would Muhammed Ali fare against an Olympic wrestler or Judo player? What about Bruce Lee versus a Navy Seal? Of course, these discussions were completely theoretical, akin to asking whether Superman could beat Galactus in arm wrestling. There was scarcely any data available on which to base a conclusion.
However, thanks to the recent proliferation of "No Rules" or "No Holds Barred" (NHB) fighting tournaments, both in the U.S. and abroad, we finally have some interesting answers to this ancient question. As with many things, the truth of the matter was known long ago, and then forgotten and relearned many times. Part of the reason for this is that unarmed combat is a peculiar thing -- it is unlikely to occur in its pure form once weapons such as knives, bottles or guns are available, and when it does occur it is usually under special circumstances involving surprise or intoxication or multiple combatants. The clean schoolyard confrontation between two individuals is something which rarely occurs again in later life. Hence, single combat can only be studied in a controlled way as a form of sport. To my knowledge, the last time this was possible was during ancient times in Greece and more recently in Asia. The ancient Greek sport of Pankration (or "All Powers") was the most popular of all of the original Olympic competitions. It combined boxing and wrestling as well as submission holds such as chokes and arm- and leg-locks. In China and Japan, unarmed fighting was also developed systematically in environments where tests through actual combat were frequent, although the modern descendants of those arts are often far from realistic.
In its modern incarnation, NHB fighting is one of the most exciting new sports to hit the market. It has a small but rapidly growing pool of fans and practicioners, despite its undeserved reputation for being bloody and dangerous. In fact, any student of the history of boxing knows that the introduction of padded gloves, along with rules against grappling, have made that sport much more dangerous than real fighting. Padded gloves protect the hands of a boxer and allow repeated blows to the head of an opponent, increasing the likelihood of brain damage. The prohibition against grappling creates an unrealistic environment, where fighters are forced to stand toe to toe and pummel each other, rather than use more efficient takedown and submission techniques to bring the fight to the ground and end it. That wrestling and submission techniques would often prevail against striking was well known to both the ancient Pankrationists and at least some of the martial artists in Asia. This lesson has been re-learned in the NHB context, as fight after fight ends with a grappler applying a submission hold to his opponent, often with neither suffering more than superficial damage. This is in contrast to the flashy styles of fighting popularized in movies and television, as well as to the expectations of fans of boxing.
My own introduction to fighting came as a boy growing up in Iowa. Wrestling is a popular sport in Iowa, and most boys learn how to grapple on the playground. Anyone who has been in a fight knows that it is easier to clinch or grab your opponent than it is for him to knock you down or out before you can do so. Thus most fights which are not complete mismatches evolve toward grappling, unless both parties are content merely to exchange blows (as in modern boxing, under the impetus of the referee enforcing the rules). There are many styles of combat grappling. In fact, wrestling is a sport which can be found in almost all cultures, both primitive and advanced. Modern Olympic wrestling emphasizes takedowns and control, while Olympic judo emphasizes throwing and control based on the gi, or judo uniform. More realistic styles of grappling, such as Brazilian Jiujitsu (based on early 20th century judo as well as wrestling) emphasize submission or finishing techniques once control has been established. Sambo, a Soviet style of grappling introduced by the military, also emphasizes techniques which attack the joints of the arms and legs.
In recent years I have become a student and practitioner of Brazilian Jiujitsu (BJJ). The name is an odd one, since Jiujitsu is a Japanese word with no obvious connection to Brazil. The story of the origin of Brazilian Jiujitsu is a fascinating one, now famous in martial arts circles. It begins with the Kodokan, or founding school of judo in Japan, sending several representatives to the U.S. in the early part of this century. These representatives demonstrated judo to American audiences, including Teddy Roosevelt (who later earned a black belt!) in the White House. One of the representatives, named Maeda, stayed in the Americas, giving exhibitions and challenging locals to defeat him in the ring. Maeda's toughest opponents were Americans skilled in the local art of folkstyle wrestling, although he also fought boxers and perfected the strategies for defeating them. Maeda incorporated many of the things he learned into his style of judo, and came to be known as Count Koma (or "Count Combat") because of his practical expertise and willingness to fight. Maeda ended up in Brazil, which had a growing population of immigrant Japanese. In Brazil he befriended the Gracie family (Brazilians of Scottish extraction!), and taught several of their sons his fighting style. While judo in Japan became more and more stylized and oriented toward sport (later it became an Olympic event), the practical style of Maeda was being perfected by the Gracie family in "challenge fights" that were both popular and common in Brazil.
My studies have taken me to many schools and clubs (or dojos, in Japanese) in the U.S. and Japan, where I've "rolled" with competitors of all nationalities, sizes, and levels of ability, including some heavyweight professional fighters. One important aspect of BJJ (and grappling arts in general) is that one practices it at full speed, only stopping at the end, short of injury, when a submission hold has been properly applied and the loser surrenders or "taps out" by hitting the mat with a free limb. Unlike in the striking styles, all but the final instant of a sparring session is realistic -- there is no holding back, or sparring for points as in karate or tae kwon do. When a grappler faces a real confrontation, his reactions are well practiced and do not require modification.
A recurring theme in the mythology of martial arts is that of the great master, who despite his frail, elderly frame, is able to defeat hulking young challengers. This idea is a staple in the conceptual diet of students of karate, kung fu and all the traditional styles of martial arts. Real fighters are of course skeptical of this possibility, since in real fights attributes like size, speed and power all play an important role. Certainly, the idea that a 70 year old could win any athletic event in the Olympics is ludicrous, yet the myth persists in the martial arts. I myself am skeptical that any elderly kung fu or aikido master could avoid my takedown, let alone that of a professional fighter. However, what I have discovered is that BJJ is sufficiently technical in nature that a much smaller, weaker fighter can easily dominate me on the ground! In Japan I routinely sparred with much smaller fighters who could control me with their technique. I have also watched as representatives of the Gracie family have defeated larger, stronger and more athletic adversaries.
However, even Olympic credentials are not enough to guarantee success in NHB. Kevin Jackson (gold medalist, freestyle wrestling), Dennis Hall (silver medalist, freestyle wrestling) and Ben Spijkers (silver medalist, judo) have all been crushed by BJJ and submission fighters during their NHB careers.
From a letter to son Kermit, dated 02/24/1905:
Yesterday afternoon we had Professor Yamashita up here to wrestle with Grant. It was very interesting, but of course jiu jitsu and our wrestling are so far apart that it is difficult to make any comparison between them. Wrestling is simply a sport with rules almost as conventional as those of tennis, while jiu jitsu is really meant for practice in killing or disabling our adversary. In consequence, Grant did not know what to do except to put Yamashita on his back, and Yamashita was perfectly content to be on his back. Inside of a minute Yamashita had choked Grant, and inside of two minutes more he got an elbow hold on him that would have enabled him to break his arm; so that there is no question but that he could have put Grant out. So far this made it evident that the jiu jitsu man could handle the ordinary wrestler. But Grant, in the actual wrestling and throwing was about as good as the Japanese, and he was so much stronger that he evidently hurt and wore out the Japanese. With a little practice in the art I am sure that one of our big wrestlers or boxers, simply because of his greatly superior strength, would be able to kill any of those Japanese, who though very good men for their inches and pounds are altogether too small to hold their own against big, powerful, quick men who are well trained.
From "Theodore Roosevelt's Letters to His Children" edited by Joseph Bishop.