A new British Museum exhibition reframes the samurai through gender and globalization — but why does it replace historical nuance with a modern agenda?
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Samurai armor (©The Trustees of the British Museum)

The forthcoming British Museum exhibition, Samurai (running from February to May 2026), presents itself as a corrective. Framed as an effort to challenge "everything we think we know about Japan's warrior elite," it promises to move beyond armor, swords, and cinematic heroics toward a broader, more socially inclusive picture of samurai life. 

According to lead curator Rosina Buckland, previous exhibitions focused too narrowly on weapons, reinforcing a "hyper-masculine" image shaped by film, anime, and gaming. This exhibition, she argues, will instead foreground art, administration, women, and cultural exchange.

Few would dispute the value of nuance. The question is whether the exhibition deepens historical understanding or reinterprets an established historical record to fit modern priorities.

Jeff Broderick, a university lecturer and prize-winning sword fittings maker, says he would "be very excited to attend" the exhibition as a longtime admirer of samurai history. He holds a 7th-dan rank in jodo, a traditional Japanese art of staff combat developed to counter the sword.

That enthusiasm, however, is paired with a clear methodological concern. "I don't want to be overly critical of this exhibition," he says. "But good historical exhibition requires presenting complexity rather than simply inverting myths."

Loyalty and the Limits of Myth-Busting

One of the exhibition's stated goals is to dismantle the popular belief that samurai were unquestioningly loyal to their lords. Historical examples of betrayal and shifting alliances among daimyo (regional lords) are used to challenge the idea of absolute fealty.

Broderick does not dispute those facts. At the elite level, he notes, "many military allegiances were only too transitory." But he cautions against extending that observation too far. "For the rank-and-file samurai, loyalty to one's direct lord was incredibly strong," he says. "So, can we say 'samurai loyalty was a myth'? It's just not that simple."

For Broderick, the problem lies not in challenging idealized narratives, but in collapsing contradictions. "Both sides should be presented. 'Yes, the samurai were incredibly brave and loyal, but at times…'" To reduce samurai loyalty to either blind devotion or cynical opportunism, he argues, is to misunderstand how feudal obligations actually functioned.

Helmet with butterfly crest. (©National Museum of Japanese History)

Women and Samurai Status

The exhibition also foregrounds women, presenting them as educated, politically active, and in some cases martial members of samurai society. In the British Museum's promotional materials, "women made up half of the samurai class" appears as an ostensibly factual statement. Yet it carries a provocative subtext: women's roles among the samurai were as integral as men's. Media coverage has emphasized this as a corrective to centuries of male-centered narratives.

Broderick's objection is not to inclusion, but to definition. "It's fantastic to spotlight women's stories that were traditionally overlooked," he says, "but not to the extent of implying female warriors were commonplace." 

In his view, the problem is how far the category of samurai is being stretched. "The definition of 'samurai' has always been rather contentious," Broderick argues. "If we define the samurai as merely a social class, then we can extend samurai status to the women in the family." That move, he says, departs from historical usage: "This seems to go against the common usage of the word samurai to mean 'elite Japanese warrior.'"

Exceptions and Definitions

There were women who wielded political power, and rare cases of women who fought, such as Nakano Takeko, who died in 1868. The exhibition also highlights Tomoe Gozen, a figure long celebrated in literature and popular history, but whose existence as a historical warrior is widely questioned by historians. Broderick questions whether those exceptions are being presented as representative. "Were these not exceptions that proved the rule? This exhibition might be going too far to promote a diversity agenda if it posits female samurai as the [general] rule."

Luc Taelman, head of the European branch of the Japanese Armor Society, is more direct. "I think it's just a footnote in the history of the samurai," he says. "I don't recall any name of an important female samurai." 

Set of archery equipment (©The Trustees of the British Museum)

Taelman does not deny women's influence within samurai households, but draws a firm line at military identity. "Women could influence their men at home," he says. "But on the battlefield or a real military task for them, I do not know any important (women) who did that."

Bushido: Codification Versus Continuity

The exhibition's treatment of bushido is its most overtly ideological intervention. Curators emphasize that the concept was shaped and promoted in the late 19th century, aligned with Meiji-era (1868-1912) nationalism and imperial expansion.

Broderick agrees — up to a point. "I believe the exhibition is correct to say that the conception of Bushido is largely a modern one," he says. But he rejects the implication that this makes bushido a pure invention. "To state that Bushido was pure invention in the service of militarism is too strong, as it suggests that there was nothing guiding the samurai before the 1880s."

What existed instead, he explains, were multiple ethical frameworks, often domain-specific. "There were codes in place, often specific to a particular domain. So while there may have been no single, overarching 'bushido,' there were multiple ways for samurai to behave that resembled each other and were traditionally understood."

Those frameworks were grounded in the realities of everyday warrior life rather than abstract ideology. Warriors were often expected to live simply and to devote themselves to constant martial training in order to maintain their status. They regularly practiced mounted archery disciplines such as yabusame and kasagake, engaged in group hunting (makigari), and treated martial readiness as a daily obligation rather than a symbolic ideal.

Ethics in Practice

Historical anecdotes preserved in later sources reinforce this ethos of frugality and discipline. Minamoto no Yoritomo, the founder of Japan's first warrior government in the late 12th century, is said to have admonished a vassal for wearing luxurious clothing by cutting off his sleeves. Hojo Tokiyori, a 13th-century regent who governed on behalf of the shogunate, was likewise remembered for his austerity, reputedly snacking on miso while drinking sake even in convivial company.

From such practices emerged a set of norms known by various names. These included buke no narai (the customs of warrior houses), tsuwamono no michi (the way of the warrior), or kyuba no michi (the way of the bow and horse). These traditions emphasized bravery, loyalty to one's lord, respect for family and clan honor, and a keen sense of shame. While not yet systematized into a single doctrine, they formed the ethical substrate from which bushido would later be articulated.

Taelman echoes this emphasis on continuity. "The word itself, and the code maybe is romanticized later," he says, "but I'm quite convinced that the spirit of the Bushido was already there." For Taelman, modern Japan's emphasis on group discipline and loyalty "does not come out of thin air. This is part of their history."

He also rejects the exhibition's suggestion that the samurai lost their martial identity during the long peace of the Edo period (1600-1868). The fact that many became "administrators or artists or poets," Taelman argues, does not mean "they lost their military spirit." On the contrary, even in peacetime, samurai "were still busy with kyudo and kendo, martial arts that came directly from warfare."

Swords, Symbols, and Curatorial Choice

The exhibition also downplays the battlefield importance of swords, noting that spears and firearms were more decisive weapons of war. Broderick accepts the technical point, but not the implied marginalization.

While swords were never the samurai's primary battlefield weapon, Broderick stresses that their significance lay in their role as intensely personal arms, invested with symbolic and religious meaning. Samurai, he notes, "spent enormous amounts of time evaluating, ranking, appreciating, and coveting swords," and "a tremendous amount of money" acquiring them.

Questions also arise over object selection. Broderick points to a tsuba (hand guard) decorated with a world map that is prominently displayed to suggest Edo-period global awareness. Yet, he notes, "I have scores of books displaying many hundreds of tsuba, and this is the first I have ever seen with the motif of a world map." Such a design, he argues, is "exceedingly rare, and hardly representative of popular consciousness."

Jinbaori (surcoat) © The Trustees of the British Museum

Taelman raises parallel concerns about the exhibition's treatment of armor. Rather than functional field equipment, he observes, the display emphasizes ornate ceremonial pieces. "They show very fancy armors — armors the Japanese really don't like," he says. "These are not what samurai stood for." Notably, neither of the exhibition's curators is a Japanese sword or armor specialist. 

Who Shapes the Past?

None of this is to deny the exhibition's ambition or its appeal. Both Broderick and Taelman acknowledge the value of challenging simplified images of the samurai and broadening the range of objects on display. Their concern, rather, is that curatorial choices inevitably reflect contemporary priorities more than historical realities.

It is also notable that the exhibition's principal sponsor is the Huo Family Foundation, a China-based philanthropic organization active in global cultural and academic projects. 

Broderick frames the issue pointedly: "When the exhibition shows us how bushido was shaped by Meiji-era politics, it's worth considering how our era's values might be doing the same kind of work in shaping historical presentation." The risk, he argues, is not correction but substitution. "The best exhibitions acknowledge this openly and present complexity rather than simply swapping old myths for new ideas."

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Author: Daniel Manning

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