The cultural differences between America and the British and European nations from which we largely sprang have long been apparent—and often jarring. A quote usually attributed to Winston Churchill, though George Bernard Shaw—and several others--may have been its originator, is instructive: “the English and Americans are two peoples divided by a common language.” We’re equally divided by our martial traditions. I speak, primarily, of fencing.

America manages to field teams of fencers in the European style, modern variations of the Italian, British and French schools. Our teams often do reasonably well in Olympic and other competitions, but fencing has never caught on in America. We simply have no such cultural tradition, certainly not like that of the nations across the pond. In colonial America, the upper classes often wore the “small sword,” but it was more a badge of class and position than an offensive or dueling weapon, and little of the population sought training in its employment. The Rapier never really caught on, and broadswords and other battle swords of earlier days, virtually not at all.

The saber, in various incarnations, remained in use in cavalry applications until mounted cavalry became a quaint anachronism. Instruction in that weapon, and its technique, was limited to the military, and the upper, officer classes. There was little civilian application for wielding a heavy, curved blade from horseback, and as with much else, Sam Colt’s inventions rendered the employment of swords in battle largely irrelevant.

In this as in other matters, perhaps the lack of lasting appreciation of the traditions and necessities of an earlier time was due to the necessity of building uniquely American traditions. We had a continent to populate and build, inventions to invent, fields to plow and no swords to beat into plowshares, nor the time to do it if we had.

Image: Douglas Fairbanks in the film: The Mask of Zorro (1920)." 

wikimedia commons.org. Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic.

And then there was Zorro. That was it for me. A kid growing up in NE South Dakota, with no available fencing instruction, but the heart of a lion and imaginings of the deeds of Richard the Lionheart, Zorro spoke to me. I didn’t then realize he was wielding a common sport fencing saber or it’s like, nor did I understand how firearms had already made such weapons outmoded in the time represented by the TV series, but Don Diego was a dashing, sword-wielding hero like Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood and other characters, and that was the life for me.

It wasn’t until much later I found actual sport fencing weapons, did a great deal of self-training, found some professional instruction, and became the co-founder and first Vice-President of the Wyoming division of the United States Fencing Association, a division that sadly no longer exists. However, stumbling into the opportunity to learn Kendo—Japanese fencing—I gladly plunged in headfirst. Sadly, Kendo enjoys an even smaller following than European fencing in America.

Americans get a glimpse of fencing only during the Olympics, and brief glimpses at that, perhaps a few seconds of a bout here and there, sandwiched between longer clips of track and field, Luge or Curling. In fencing, particularly foil, the action is lightning fast. The fencers, silent and spring-loaded, are poised opposite each other. Suddenly, there is a blur of featherweight blades, lunges and ripostes, a touch is awarded, and they reload their springs, leaving the American viewer wondering “what the hell just happened? Who got stabbed?” They just leap at each other straight on, on a narrow, flat strip. There’s no leaping up on tables, dueling up and down stairs or kissing wenches. What’s up with that?

It's not at all like Football, which gives one plenty of time to catch all the action while drinking a beer, munching snacks, and arguing about Taylor Swift and who she’s dating or not, or Baseball, wherein one might catch a nap between batters. Watching fencing requires constantly focused attention. We’re not much good at that. Aren’t Americans supposed to be men of action? Don’t get me started about soccer, which I also played as a teenager and young adult.

I often wonder how much we’ve lost by abandoning such traditions, particularly when so many of us have never learned we had them in the first place? To be sure, so many around the world have adopted, at least outwardly, American traditions, American culture, but we should never imagine wearing American t-shirts and mouthing American movie dialogue makes them like us.

The days of the sword are done, but perhaps we might be a more thoughtful, adventurous, focused, and less snowflaky people if they weren’t.

Mike McDaniel is a USAF veteran, classically trained musician, Japanese and European fencer, life-long athlete, firearm instructor and retired police officer and high school and college English teacher.  His home blog is Stately McDaniel Manor.