Honor, Loyalty, Samurai & The War on Cancer

“I have known about The Secret History of the War on Cancer for some time, kept it on my to-read list, and now I am reading it. It is an amazing book. I have just gotten into it and I am already blown away by its premise, which is what I have been feeling in my gut for years—cancer research has been, and still is, stymied over and over again by—and you know what’s coming—Big Business, whose interests are antithetical to actually finding the causes of cancer!” Jerry Zimmerman

Squibs and Blurbs

by Jerry Zimmerman

TEANECK New Jersey—(Weekly Hubris)—10/15/2012—I’m watching 13 samurai attack and slice up almost 200 warriors of the Shogun’s brother and, eventually, the Shogun’s brother, himself. This is quite amazing for two reasons.

One, even with their extraordinary fighting skills and martial ingenuity, these assassins (yes, the samurai are the assassins in this scenario) are supremely outnumbered.

Two, and much more remarkably, as these things go, the samurai are attacking their superior.

I’m watching a newly-made samurai movie, a genre of which I am a great fan, dating back to my fascination with the earliest gorgeous black-and-white Kurosawa movies and the first weirdly amateurish Hong Kong kung-fu thrillers. Although the quality of filmmaking ranges from exquisite to barely-basic, it is the action and the story lines of these movies that bring me back to watching them over and over again.

The action is almost always non-stop, from fabulous sword fights between two ancient masters, to hand-to-hand brawls involving entire villages, and the skill level of the participants is always breathtaking, if not downright fantastical.

Yet, as I reflect on my attraction to these films, I see that the truly heroic plot lines are what keep me glued to the screen, excited and tense, as I silently root for the demise of the unjust and evil villains and for the victory of the usually lowly men who have been forced by fate to face situations so difficult that to accomplish them will mean almost certain death . . . gasp!

The samurai were a remarkable group of men, raised as a continuing class of warrior-servants, educated to follow a very strict code of behavior, trained to be the country’s best fighters, and encouraged to live a full and meaningful life, albeit one that usually ended in an early death.

Most samurai movies pivot around the two core values of a samurai’s life, Honor and Loyalty. The plot lines often include tests of a warrior’s dedication, courage or skill, and perhaps even his capacity to be loving and kind, but the root engines of conflict are always questions of loyalty and honor, the two big themes that are still the foundation of Japanese culture today.

While recently reading The Secret History of the War on Cancer, by Devra Davis, I was thinking about these samurai and their death-defying struggles—and I wasn’t thinking about them for the reason you might be imagining I was.

I hadn’t casually come across this book. My late wife was diagnosed with ovarian cancer eight years ago, and she succumbed to this epidemic disease five years later. This fact of life has dropped me willy-nilly into the middle of the “cancer world” like so many others, making me particularly observant and sensitive to the ebb and flow of cancer research and its miniscule successes and myriad failures. My brave wife was the one who took the proverbial and literal beating through her various and sundry treatments which, in hindsight, seem to me less like medicine and more like throwing darts at a target in a very dark room, a room that may or may not actually have a target in it.

Although we both remained determined and hopeful during all her trials, I began to see the whole “cancer industry” as a giant corporate monolith, fueled by the gargantuan profits which are part and parcel of cancer clinics, chemotherapy, oncologists, mega-institutes, the American Cancer Society, and endless solicitations “to help end cancer.”

After decades and decades of throwing everything we’ve got at this problem, we have gotten virtually nowhere—and the great gigundo cancer industry hasn’t even mentioned this little fact.

Yes, there have been some gains made, but the bulk of cancer treatment today is simply throwing the same treatments against the wall over and over again, knowing that very little will actually stick. But they do cost a truckload of money each time. And we do build bigger and bigger facilities to take care of the ever-increasing number of cancer patients.

Whaaaa?

Perhaps there is another way to approach all this—perhaps ANY other way than the same old way.

I have known about The Secret History of the War on Cancer for some time, kept it on my to-read list, and now I am reading it. It is an amazing book. I have just gotten into it and I am already blown away by its premise, which is what I have been feeling in my gut for years—cancer research has been, and still is, stymied over and over again by—and you know what’s coming—Big Business, whose interests are antithetical to actually finding the causes of cancer!

There are many, many instances of interference, avoidance, denial, political pressure, financial pressure, cover-ups, etc., etc. There are documentaries, essays, articles, books, and more with the stories and the facts.

These are not crazy conspiracy theories. As just one example, after the fact, we all know now that the tobacco companies have spent enormous resources for decades on hiding what they knew to be the truth, that smoking definitely leads to cancer.

Why would they do such a callous, dangerous and immoral thing? All together now—PROFITS!

I’m no extremist New-Ager radical Luddite screed-writing rebel but, OK, this IS a raging diatribe! It’s difficult to see fact after fact bubble to the surface about business putting money before the lives of the people around us, our families and friends, our parents and spouses and children, and not be flabbergasted, outraged and horrified.

Now, back to our main feature . . . .

The leader of the samurai assassins has been given a task that no samurai should ever be given—to kill his superior. His whole being is devoted to Honor and Loyalty. If he goes against his Master, his disloyalty negates his purpose in life.

However, his master is so patently evil that not to kill him will mean deadly war and destruction for the people of his country. Some of the samurai that he approaches for help, although understanding of the situation, just cannot rise above their station in life to join him. This is the crux of the problem: the system must be adhered to for the society to continue to exist as it is, but not to rebel against the system will bring about its ruin as well.

Where does the warrior stand? What will he decide? How will he act?

What kind of man will he be?

I often think about the researchers, the lobbyists, the managers, the CEOs of the tobacco companies. In my mind’s eye, it’s easy to imagine one of these guys finishing up a meeting, packing up his notes, and getting his coat on to go home. He has worked hard to move up in the world. He likes the life he has built for himself and his family, and he loves his wife and children, waiting for him at home.

And he knows his company is selling poison to millions of people, and covering it up.

When he walks in the door, greeted by his family, which man is he?

Is he the samurai who is steadfastly Loyal?

Or is he the samurai who leaves his post to uphold his Honor?

At the end of the movie, as is often the case with these movies, almost everyone has been killed in a cataclysmic battle, with a few survivors left in a daze, staggering around the battlefield, stunned by the tragedy surrounding them.

I pray that won’t be us.

PS: Watch an interview with author Dr. Devra Davis: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKsf6WtvxEE

Note: This column first appeared in this space in August of 2011. Sensei Jerry Zimmerman, busy at Aikido North Jersey, is currently on sabbatical from weekly writing.