When you picture a samurai, what comes to mind? Perhaps a stoic, armored man, master of the katana, bound by the code of Bushido. This image, immortalized in film and literature, is powerful—but it’s incomplete. It overlooks a vital and formidable chapter of Japanese history: the legacy of the Onna-musha (女武者).
These were the female warriors of pre-modern Japan, noblewomen who were every bit as trained, strategic, and fierce as their male counterparts. They were not merely damsels in distress or passive figures in the court; they were military leaders, defenders of their homes, and legends on the battlefield.
This is their story, a journey beyond the myth and into the lives of the women who wielded the naginata and shaped the destiny of a nation.
The Onna-musha: A Class of Their Own
To understand the Onna-musha, we must first dispel a common misconception. They were not the female equivalent of the samurai, the bushi, in an identical role. The rigid, patriarchal social structure of later feudal Japan (particularly the Edo period) often confined women to domestic spheres. However, in the earlier, more volatile eras—the Heian (794-1185) and Kamakura (1185-1333) periods—the lines were far more blurred.
In these times of constant warfare, a samurai lord might be away for years on campaign. The defense of the home, the castle, and the clan’s lands fell to those who remained. This responsibility rested squarely on the shoulders of the women of the household. They were the last line of defense. As a result, women of the samurai class were raised to be physically strong, mentally resilient, and martially proficient.
Their primary weapon was not the katana, but the naginata (なぎなた), a pole weapon with a curved blade on the end. The naginata’s long reach was perfect for compensating for the generally smaller stature of a woman, allowing her to unhorse a rider, keep a swordsman at bay, and engage multiple opponents effectively. They were also trained in the use of the kaiken (a dagger), both for self-defense and for the ultimate act of honor and defiance: ritual suicide, or jigai.
The Onna-musha were not accidental warriors; they were bred for it. They were educated in strategy, literature, and art, but their physical training was just as rigorous. They were the embodiment of a key Buddhist concept of the time: hosshin no tamashii (発心の魂), or “the way of the warrior and the heart of the Buddha.” This meant they were prepared to be both cultured and utterly lethal.
Legendary Figures: The Names That Forged History
While many Onna-musha fought and died without their names being recorded, a few extraordinary women broke through the annals of history to become legends.
1. Empress Jingū (c. 169-269 AD): The Divine Conqueror
While her existence is shrouded in myth and legend, Empress Jingū is the archetypal female warrior in Japanese history. According to the ancient chronicles Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, after her husband, Emperor Chūai, died, she took up his mantle and led a legendary invasion of the Korean kingdom of Silla.
The stories say she was possessed by a kami (a god) who instructed her on the conquest. She was said to be pregnant at the time but placed a stone in her girdle to delay the birth, leading her army across the sea. She returned to Japan victorious and later gave birth to the future Emperor Ōjin.
Whether fact or folklore, the tale of Empress Jingū is crucial. It established a powerful precedent for female leadership and martial prowess in the Japanese psyche, creating a cultural space where an Onna-musha could be revered.
2. Tomoe Gozen (c. 1157–1247): The Flower of the Battlefield
If there is one name synonymous with the female samurai, it is Tomoe Gozen. Her story is recounted in the Heike Monogatari (The Tale of the Heike), the epic account of the Genpei War. She served as a senior captain under the daimyo Minamoto no Yoshinaka.
The Heike Monogatari describes her in breathtaking terms:
“Tomoe was especially beautiful, with white skin, long hair, and charming features. She was also a remarkably strong archer, and as a swordswoman she was a warrior worth a thousand, ready to confront a demon or a god, mounted or on foot. She handled unbroken horses with superb skill; she rode unscathed down perilous descents. Whenever a battle was imminent, Yoshinaka sent her out as his first captain, equipped with strong armor, an oversized sword, and a mighty bow; and she performed more deeds of valor than any of his other warriors.”
Her most famous stand was at the Battle of Awazu in 1184. As Yoshinaka’s forces were decimated, he ordered Tomoe to flee, believing it shameful to die with a woman. Reluctantly, she obeyed, but not before making one last charge. She singled out Onda no Hachirō Moroshige, a renowned Musashi warrior, rode alongside him, dragged him from his horse, pinned him, and cut off his head. This final act of defiance cemented her legend before she vanished from history, her ultimate fate a mystery that has fueled imaginations for centuries.
3. Hōjō Masako (1156–1225): The “Nun Shogun”
While Tomoe Gozen was the perfect warrior, Hōjō Masako was the ultimate strategist and political mastermind. She was the wife of Minamoto no Yoritomo, the founder of the Kamakura Shogunate. After his death, she did not pick up a naginata; she picked up the reins of power.
She became a Buddhist nun, but this was a strategic move that gave her the freedom to operate outside conventional gender roles. From this position, she wielded immense influence over the shogunate, ensuring her sons’ succession and orchestrating political moves that kept the Hōjō clan in power for generations. When her father and brother attempted a coup, she stood on the ramparts of Kamakura and rallied the city’s defenders, successfully quashing the rebellion.
Masako was a warrior of the political arena. Her battles were fought with words, alliances, and shrewd intelligence, proving that the influence of an Onna-musha could extend far beyond the battlefield and into the very heart of government.
4. Nakano Takeko (1847–1868): The Last Stand
The story of the Onna-musha does not end in the medieval era. It finds a powerful, tragic echo in the final days of the samurai class during the Boshin War (1868-1869). Nakano Takeko was a highly trained Onna-musha from Aizu domain, skilled in naginata-jutsu from a childhood of intense study.
During the Battle of Aizu, with the domain under siege by Imperial forces, Takeko formed and led an ad-hoc unit of women warriors called the Joshitai (Women’s Army). The male commanders, bound by modernizing conventions, initially refused to allow them to fight officially. Undeterred, Takeko and her band of about 20 women fought as an independent force on the front lines.
In a fierce engagement at the Yanagi Bridge, Takeko led a charge against the Imperial Japanese Army, who were armed with modern rifles. She fought with unparalleled ferocity, personally killing several soldiers with her naginata before being shot in the chest. Knowing she was mortally wounded, she asked her sister, Yūko, to behead her to prevent the enemy from taking her head as a trophy.
Nakano Takeko’s death was a poignant symbol of the end of an era. She was a traditional warrior fighting a modern war, a woman defying a newly centralized, patriarchal military structure. Her grave at the Hōkai Temple in Aizu Wakamatsu is still visited today, often adorned with gifts of Coca-Cola and snacks, a modern tribute to a timeless hero.
The Slow Fade: The Subjugation of the Onna-musha
The rise of the Tokugawa Shogunate and the ensuing Edo period (1603-1868) brought over 250 years of relative peace to Japan. With no constant warfare, the practical need for women to defend the home faded. The samurai class transformed from a warrior aristocracy into a bureaucratic one.
In this new, stable society, Confucian ideals emphasizing female submission and domesticity became the dominant social code. The fierce independence of the Onna-musha was seen as a threat to the new social order. Philosophers like Kaibara Ekken wrote influential texts like Onna Daigaku (Greater Learning for Women), which preached obedience, silence, and duty to the husband and household.
The naginata, once a tool of war, was gradually repurposed. It became a part of onna-bugei (women’s martial arts), a form of physical and moral discipline to cultivate grace, patience, and loyalty in young women of good families—a far cry from its original intent to dismember and kill. The warrior was tamed into a gentlewoman.
Legacy and Reclamation in Modern Culture
The spirit of the Onna-musha, however, never truly died. In the 20th and 21st centuries, their stories have been resurrected and celebrated, finding new life in popular culture.
- Manga and Anime: Series like Rurouni Kenshin feature Makimachi Misao and other female fighters. Inuyasha has the spear-wielding Sango. But perhaps the most direct homage is in the video game and anime series Samurai Warriors and its spin-off Warriors Orochi, which features playable, highly stylized versions of Tomoe Gozen and others.
- Film and Television: The 2003 film Azumi follows a young female assassin trained to kill. Netflix’s Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan documentary dedicates significant time to Tomoe Gozen, bringing her story to a global audience.
- The Naginata Today: The art of naginatajutsu is still practiced today, primarily by women, as a modern martial art (gendai budō). It is a living, breathing link to this formidable past.
This cultural reclamation is vital. It corrects the historical record and provides powerful, complex role models. The Onna-musha were not anomalies; they were a integral part of the samurai tapestry. They remind us that courage, leadership, and martial skill are not inherently masculine traits.
Conclusion: A More Complete History
The story of the samurai is one of honor, loyalty, and sacrifice. To tell that story without the Onna-musha is to tell only half of it. From the legendary conquests of Empress Jingū to the raw battlefield valor of Tomoe Gozen, from the political genius of Hōjō Masako to the tragic final charge of Nakano Takeko, these women were architects of their own destinies and defenders of their people.
They were the proof that the heart of a warrior knows no gender. They were cultured yet deadly, graceful yet brutal, bound by duty yet fiercely independent. By remembering their names and their deeds, we do more than just honor their memory; we embrace a richer, more accurate, and infinitely more inspiring history of the samurai. They are a testament to the fact that even in the most rigid societies, strength, in its many forms, will always find a way to shine.