Benevolence: The Warrior’s Grace

In the Code of Bushido, Jin (benevolence) is one of the most powerful yet misunderstood virtues. While it may sound soft or passive, to the samurai, benevolence was a sign of great inner strength. It meant choosing compassion and respect,  even when you held the power to do otherwise.

When I wrote Let the Samurai Be Your Guide, I wanted to show that Bushido isn’t just a relic of the past. These principles live on in the lives of everyday people who choose to lead with benevolence and compassion in a world that often encourages the opposite.

Valor in the Hands of a Healer: Dr. James K. Okubo and the Courageous Compassion of Jin

One of the most powerful expressions of Jin, or benevolence, I have encountered is found in the life of Dr. James K. Okubo. His story, like that of so many Nisei warriors, was nearly lost to time, his humility overshadowing his heroism. And yet, his legacy continues to shine as a beacon of selfless service and extraordinary compassion.

Born in Anacortes, Washington, in 1920, Okubo volunteered to serve in the all-Nisei 442nd Regimental Combat Team, a segregated unit of Japanese American soldiers during World War II. Amidst the chaos and danger of the battlefield, Okubo served not with a weapon, but with healing hands. As a medic, Okubo repeatedly risked his life to rescue and treat wounded comrades, crawling across minefields, dodging grenades, and running under machine gun fire to bring others to safety.

On October 28 and 29, 1944, near Biffontaine, France, and again on November 4, Okubo’s heroism reached its peak. Under relentless enemy fire, he crawled to within 40 yards of enemy lines to rescue the wounded, treating 25 men across those three days. His selflessness knew no limit; he even ran to a burning tank to save a fellow soldier, an act that, without his intervention, would have ended in certain death. For these acts of gallantry, he was awarded the Silver Star, which was later upgraded to the Medal of Honor in 2000.

And yet, when the war ended, Okubo returned to civilian life quietly. He graduated from dental school, raised a family, and served his community without ever boasting of his wartime courage. His family didn’t even know the full extent of his heroism until decades later. To me, that is perhaps the most profound testament to his character, he didn’t act out of a desire for recognition. He acted out of compassion. That is the essence of Jin.

Today, the Okubo Medical and Dental Complex at Fort Lewis, Washington, stands in his honor. It not only houses medical professionals and patients, it also carries the spirit of a man who turned the battlefield into a place of mercy, and who showed us what it means to risk everything so that others may live. His life poses a quiet but powerful question: Would we have the courage to be so compassionate under pressure?

Dr. James K. Okubo lived the samurai code, not with a sword, but with extraordinary acts of care. In doing so, he showed the world that the deepest strength lies in the will to heal.

A Surgeon’s Heart: Dr. Inahara and the Spirit of Jin

On a more personal note, Dr. Toshio Inahara stands as one of the most profound examples of Jin, benevolence. A lifelong family friend, Dr. Inahara and my father shared a bond from their youth, one built on shared heritage, values, and resilience. But it was in the way Dr. Inahara lived his life that I truly saw the spirit of Bushido come alive. 

Born in 1921 to immigrant parents in Tacoma, Washington, he experienced cultural displacement, racism, and rejection, especially during the war years when, despite his willingness to serve, he was classified as an “enemy alien.” Yet he chose not bitterness, but contribution by focusing his efforts in the healing arts. Channeling his strength into the medical profession, he graduated from the University of Oregon Medical School. Completing his surgical training, he became the first trained vascular surgeon in the State of Oregon.  

Dr. Inahara dedicated himself to improving techniques in the field of vascular surgery and went on to co-create the Inahara-Pruitt carotid shunt, a life-saving device still in use today. But beyond his technical brilliance, it was his humanity that left the deepest mark. I saw this firsthand when he lovingly and expertly helped my mother and both of my brothers during the final stages of their lives. Even in retirement, when my brother Dan faced a rare cancer diagnosis, Dr. Inahara studied with a panel of specialists and ultimately guided a successful surgery that extended Dan’s life.

What strikes me most about Dr. Inahara is that his benevolence was not reserved only for family or colleagues. He trained surgeons from across the globe, Honduras, Australia, Ireland, not just in technique but in compassion. He mentored each student personally, giving generously of his time, wisdom, and heart. Even his invention, the carotid shunt, became a blessing to my sister Karen, who survived two brain aneurysms thanks to the very tool he helped develop.

Dr. Inahara’s legacy isn’t measured only by accolades or patents, but by the lives he touched.  He lived with humility, cooked meals for my father in his later years, picked strawberries on our  family farm, and supported cultural preservation through donations to the Japanese American National Museum. He may not have worn samurai armor, but he embodied the heart of a true warrior, one who used his gifts to protect, heal, and uplift those around him. In every sense, Dr. Toshio Inahara lived Jin not as a philosophy, but as a way of life.

Closer to home, I think of my own parents. My father, a second-generation Japanese American, faced discrimination and incarceration during WWII. Yet he never let bitterness take root. Instead, he extended grace to those who wronged him and raised us to value honor and kindness. My mother was the same, she showed compassion not just in words, but in the way she cared for others without hesitation.

Benevolence doesn’t always make headlines. Sometimes it’s a quiet word of encouragement, a helping hand to a neighbor, or the decision to forgive. It shows up in small ways;mentoring a student, standing up for the marginalized, or leading a team with empathy.

As human beings, we are all called to be warriors with compassion just like the samurai. 

That is the heart of Jin.

Where in your life can you choose grace over judgment, compassion over indifference? In that space, you honor the spirit of the samurai.