A Short History of Karate

A SHORT HISTORY OF KARATE
_______
Michael Cowie
Robert Dyson
KENKYO-HA GOJU KARATE KEMPO KAI

© 2016 Kenkyo-ha Goju Karate Kempo Kai
First edition published 2012
www.kenkyoha.com
rwdb1949@yahoo.co.uk
IN MEMORY OF
JOHN O’BRIEN
1949–2015
FRIEND AND FELLOW MARTIAL ARTIST
CONTENTS
Preface vii
1 Okinawan Beginnings 1
2 The Modern Karate Schools 19
3 Offspring and Cousins 76
4 Karate in the Modern World:
a Critical Overview 105
Further Reading 139
Index 142
PREFACE
This short history of karate makes no claim to completeness. A
great deal has been omitted; some of what is included is open to
debate and would benefit from more discussion. The only pur-
pose of these pages is to give the karateka a broad idea of the
origins of his or her art. The final chapter – intentionally
controversial – is intended to stimulate thought and reflection on
what modern karate is, can be and should be. Anyone who
disagrees with us or wishes to correct or discuss anything is more
than welcome to get in touch with us. We will do our best to reply
to polite communications fully and promptly.
Every effort has been made to trace the copyright owners of the
photographs reproduced here. Where no acknowledgement is
given, we believe that the photographs are in the public domain. If
we have inadvertently printed images without proper acknow-
ledgment, we will rectify the situation at once if the copyright
owner contacts us.
In this Second Edition we have added a small amount of new
material and corrected a few errors that have been pointed out by
readers. Our thanks are especially due to Omoto Kazunori for
numerous corrections and observations. Responsibility for the
opinions expressed in these pages lies with the authors alone.
MC
RD
A SHORT HISTORY OF KARATE
1
OKINAWAN BEGINNINGS
I
N MOST PEOPLE’S minds, the expression “martial arts” pro-
duces an image of the fighting arts of East Asia; but all
cultures and societies have their martial arts. No doubt it is
part of the nature of human creatures to fight, if only to defend
themselves and their resources against aggressors. To this extent,
it is pointless to try to carry the search for the origins of any
fighting art too far into the past, because there probably never
were human beings not possessed of a repertoire of aggressive
and defensive techniques, practised at various levels of sophis-
tication. In the final analysis, the martial arts are only the natural
movements of the human body trained and ordered to the specific
purposes of attack and defence.1
The popular perception of karate usually includes the assump-
tion that it is a Japanese art. It is often, though incorrectly, called a
Samurai art. In fact its origins lie somewhat to the south-west of
mainland Japan, in the Ryukyu Islands (琉球諸島, Ryukyu shoto).
These islands comprise an archipelago of small inhabited and
uninhabited land masses extending between the Japanese mainland
and Taiwan. It is on the largest of them, Okinawa Island (沖縄本島,
1 The term Martial Arts was used in relation to the combat systems of
Europe as early as the 1550s; an English fencing manual of 1639 used
it in reference to the "Science and Art" of swordplay. See, e.g., John
Clements, “A Short Introduction to Historical European Martial
Arts,”.Meibukan Magazine (January, 2006), pp. 2–4.
2 A Short History of Karate
Okinawa honto, or 沖縄島, Okinawa jima), that the history of karate

begins. Since 1879 the word Okinawa has been used to denote the
modern prefecture of Japan that includes the entire Ryukyu
archipelago; but, for the purposes of karate history, Okinawa
usually means Okinawa Island, with the centres of population in
the south of the island being of special importance.
A map showing the size and location of

the Ryukyu Islands in relation to Japan
During the fourteenth century,1 as a result of conquest, allian-

ces and commercial expediency, the numerous tribal fiefdoms that
had long existed on Okinawa Island coalesced into three small
kingdoms or principalities: Hokuzan (北山, “Northern Mount-
ain”), Chuzan (中山, “Central Mountain”) and Nanzan (南山,
“Southern Mountain”). The period between 1322 and 1429 is
known to historians as the Sanzan (三山, “Three Mountains”) era
of Okinawan history, but relations between the three principalities
1 For the reader’s convenience we shall almost always use “European”

dates.
A Short History of Karate 3
were unstable and never entirely peaceful. Hokuzan, in the

northern part of the island, was the largest in terms of territory and
population; Nanzan, the smallest, occupied the extreme southern
tip; Chuzan between the two had the advantage of commanding
the major trading port of Naha. Thanks mainly to this advan-
tageous position, Chuzan had by the beginning of the fifteenth
century achieved a position of military and economic dominance
over the other two kingdoms. Sho Hashi, (1371–1439), prince of
Chuzan, conquered and annexed Hokuzan in 1419 and Nanzan in
1429, thereby creating a unified Ryukyu kingdom. The capital of
the kingdom was established at Shuri, within easy reach of the
maritime facilities of Naha. 1
The art that we now know as karate originated among the
Pechin class of Okinawa as a method of empty-handed fighting
called te (手) or Okinawa te (沖縄手).2 Mainland Japanese, accus-
tomed to take a lofty attitude towards their Okinawan cousins,
tended in the early part of the twentieth century to regard Okinawa
te as a peasant art, not to be mentioned in the same breath as the
koryu (古流) – old school – arts of the Japanese gentleman. Strictly
speaking, however, it was not practised by the ordinary people of
Okinawa. The Pechin (親雲上) class comprised a feudal cadre of
officials and warriors, divided into several levels of seniority or
importance and located near the top of the Ryukyu kingdom’s
complex social hierarchy. The class equivalent to the Samurai of
Japan, whom they tended in later years to imitate, their main
traditional functions were to enforce the law and provide military
service when necessary. It is said that Pechin families were careful
to keep their fighting techniques away from the eyes of outsiders,
and transmitted them as secret family arts from father to eldest son.
This fact, if it is a fact, suggests that, originally, there would have
been a number of variant family styles or methods of te, just as we
1 For a detailed social and political history of Okinawa see George

Kerr, Okinawa: The History of an Island People (Tuttle, 1958; revised
edition 2000).
2 “Te” = “hand” or “technique.”
find different family styles in the Chinese martial arts, but we have
no information about what these might have been. During the
nineteenth century it became customary to refer only to three, named
after the places with which they were most associated: Shuri te, Naha
te and Tomari te (these places were originally separate, but are now
part of the same conurbation at the southern end of Okinawa Island.1
Okinawa Island, showing the locations of

Shuri, Naha and Tomari
We have made some mention of the political history of
Okinawa because political events in the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries have a significant bearing on the early development of
karate. The word “kingdom” does not really give a clear
impression of the kind of polity over which Sho Hashi presided.
Even after the unification of the three principalities, the tiny
1 To give an idea of scale, “[t]he whole Shuri/Naha/Tomari triangle is

about the same size as Golden Gate Park in San Francisco or Central
Park in New York City” (Bruce D. Clayton, Shotokan's Secret: The
Hidden Truth Behind Karate's Fighting Origins; Black Belt Comm-
unications, 2005, p.5).
Ryukyu kingdom was hardly a major power. To all intents and

purposes it was a tributary state of China, dependent on China for
both trade and political support and with a large floating Chinese
population. It was the recognition and material support extended to
Sho Hashi by China in 1421 that enabled him to achieve and
consolidate his position at the head of a unified kingdom, and, in
response, he greatly expanded the island’s trade and diplomatic
links with China. He did not inaugurate those links, however. They
had been in place in some form for more than half a century. No
doubt Okinawa te began as an indigenous method of fighting or
self-defence, but Chinese influences had begun to make themselves
felt as long ago as 1372, when commercial relations with the
Chinese Ming dynasty were established by Prince Satto of Chuzan.
During the late fourteenth century visitors from China – especially
from Fujian province in the south – began to arrive in Okinawa in
significant numbers. In 1392 or thereabouts a contingent of Chinese
families – traditional sources say thirty-six – migrated to Okinawa
from Fujian province for the purposes of cultural and commercial
exchange. Especially significant is the fact that these families
established an enclave of scholars, bureaucrats and craftsmen – one
visualises it as a sort of sophisticated Chinatown – in the
Kumemura district of Naha City. 1 This enclave, which remained in
existence until Japan’s annexation of Okinawa in 1879, became a
thriving centre of Chinese culture and learning. From it, either
intentionally or by the usual processes of social osmosis, knowledge
of many Chinese arts and sciences was transmitted to the host
culture – including knowledge of the Chinese fighting arts
collectively known as quanfa.2 The fighting arts that diffused into
Okinawa consisted mainly, though by no means exclusively, of the
1 The “thirty-six families of Kume” (久米三十六姓) may be an explan-

atory myth simplifying a much more complex and prolonged process
of migration from southern China.
2 Quanfa (also romanised, according to the Wade-Giles system, as
chuan fa) is “fist way,” a term equivalent to the Japanese word
kempo (拳法). It is more traditional and more satisfactory than the
relatively recent “kung fu” and the modern Chinese “wu shu.”
various “Crane” styles associated with Fujian province. After Sho

Hashi’s unification of the Ryukyu kingdom, cultural interchanges
with China became a great deal more frequent and intimate than
hitherto, and many Okinawan public servants were sent to China
for the purposes of study, diplomacy and commerce. As a
consequence, the fighting arts of Okinawa, already subject to
persistent Chinese influences, were modified more rapidly and
more thoroughly by such influences from the early years of the
fifteenth century. There may have been other influences also – there
were, for instance, trade missions to Thailand under Sho Hashi –
but such influences are slight by comparison with those of Chinese
provenance. For this reason the indigenous te of Okinawa came in
the course of time to be called “tode” or “karate” (唐手), “T’ang
hand” or “Chinese hand.” This expression had become common-
place by the early years of the nineteenth century.
The political unification of Okinawa had another effect that is
important for our purposes. In 1429, by reason of the instability
prevailing at the beginning of the Ryukyu kingdom’s period of
consolidation, Sho Hashi forbade the carrying of weapons by all
members of the Pechin class apart from his personal bodyguard at
Shuri. An established warrior caste thus found that it had for the
most part become an unarmed warrior caste. The ban seems
eventually to have passed into abeyance or been ignored, but it was
introduced again in 1609, after the invasion of Okinawa by the
Shimazu clan of the Satsuma province of Japan.1 From the early
fifteenth century onwards, therefore – in contrast to the state of
things in Japan, where sword arts were paramount – the fighting
arts of Okinawa tended to develop in ways that placed special
emphasis on unarmed or empty-handed combat. As a further effect
of the prohibition of weaponry, the Ryukyu kingdom also saw the
development of what is now called Okinawan kobudo (沖縄古武道):
an art that makes use of ordinary domestic and agricultural imple-
1 For this important event in Okinawan history see Stephen Turnbull,

The Samurai Capture a King, Okinawa 1609 (Osprey Publishing, 2009);
and see p. 19, below.
ments as improvised weapons. These weapons include rice-flails,

staves, sickles, oars and rice quern handles. Okinawan kobudo
nowadays has little or no practical application, but it is still
practised as a traditional art, sometimes as part of the curriculum of
Okinawan karate schools.1

It is from the three historical methods or schools of Okinawan tode
– Shuri te (首里手), Naha te (那覇手) and Tomari te (泊手) – that
almost everything that we recognise as “modern” karate devel-
oped. Before the late eighteenth century we have little in the way of
historical source material to go on, but from about 1750 we have a
good deal of information about the prominent teachers of these
methods (though some of it is confused over points of detail and
some is of doubtful reliability). The history of modern karate in its
formative stages consists largely of the biographies of these
teachers.
Shuri te
The earliest Shuri te teacher of whom we have any knowledge is
Sakugawa Kanga (佐久川寛賀) (1733–1815) (also called Sakugawa
Satsunuku), whom one often sees referred to as the “father” of
Okinawan karate. In about 1750 Sakugawa began his martial arts
training with an Okinawan martial artist called Takahara Pechin (
高原親雲上) (1683–1760). Takahara had himself studied under the
noted kobudo exponent Chatan Yara (北谷屋良) (1668–1756), who
had in turn studied xingyiquan and qigong in Fujian province
under a teacher called Gong Xiangjun. Takahara seems to have
been the first Okinawan teacher to emphasise the ethical dimen-
sions of te – compassion, humility and love – alongside its
technical and instrumental aspects. In about 1756, he suggested to
1 See Donn F. Draeger and Robert W. Smith, Comprehensive Asian

Fighting Arts (Kodansha International, 1980); Sid Campbell, Kobudo
and Bugei: The Ancient Weapon Way of Okinawa and Japan (Paladin
Press, 1999). Somewhat confusingly the word kobudo is also used to
denote the ancient “koryu” arts of Japan.
Sakugawa that he study at Kumemura with a Chinese martial

artist called Gong Xiangfu or Kushanku (公相君), a native of
Fujian province who had been dispatched to Okinawa as a
diplomat. Kushanku himself is said to have studied quanfa with a
monk of the southern Shaolin Temple in Fujian province, though
this piece of folklore is of dubious validity. 1 At all events
Sakugawa spent some six years studying with Kushanku, and
after his death (ca. 1762) composed in his honour the kata that is
still called Kushanku (also called Kanku dai, a name devised for it
in the 1930s by Funakoshi Gichin).2 When he began teaching in
Shuri, Sakugawa became known as Sakugawa Tode – “Chinese
hand Sakugawa.” This sobriquet is one of the earliest occurrences,
if not the first occurrence, of the expression “tode.”
Sakugawa Kanga.3
1 There is some question as to whether there ever was a “southern”

Shaolin temple. Even in the eighteenth century martial artists liked to
claim a Shaolin connection, but the famous monastery in Henan
province is so far away from Okinawa that it may have been necessary
for the purposes of plausibility to invent a nearer one in the south.
2 Also attributed to him is the bo kata called Sakugawa no kun.
3 Notice the “topknot” hairstyle, a symbol of warrior nobility, prohib-
ited by the Japanese after 1879. But whether this drawing is a true
One of Sakugawa Kanga’s most distinguished students was a

native of the Yamagawa district of Shuri called Matsumura
Sokon (松村宗棍) (ca 1797–1889). Sakugawa was in his late sev-
enties when the young Matsumura approached him, and not too
keen to take on another student, but the old gentleman accepted
the lad as a favour to Matsumura’s father, who was a friend and
apparently anxious about his son’s incipient delinquent tend-
encies. Matsumura studied with Sakugawa from about 1810 to
1815 and is said to have shown unusual ability from the first. He
also became a noted scholar and calligrapher. In 1816 he entered
the service of the royal family of the Ryukyu kingdom as a
bodyguard and martial arts instructor, eventually becoming the
chief bodyguard of King Sho Ko (1787–1839). He acquired a rep-
utation as an exacting teacher of great physical strength, speed
and personal presence, apparently able to defeat an opponent
simply by the “look of death” in his eye. 1 His royal service
earned him the titles of Chikudun Pechin (筑登之親雲上 ) 2 and
Bushi (武士) (“warrior”). It is said that he acquired this title after
a successful contest with a bull.
It seems that Matsumura several times travelled to China and
Japan on government service. He studied quanfa in China: some
versions of his biography say that he studied at the “southern”
Shaolin temple; others identify Chinese masters called Ason, Iwah
and Wai Xinxian as his teachers. In the Satsuma province of Japan
he also studied the Jigen Ryu style of swordsmanship with a
Samurai exponent of the art called Ijuin Yashichiro. Returning to
Okinawa he taught the kata Naihanchi, Passai, Seisan, Chinto,
Gojushiho, Kushanku and Hakutsuru (the last of which is unique
likeness of Sakugawa is open to doubt; it looks suspiciously modern

to us. There exists also a photograph of an old man with a long white
beard that is sometimes represented as being of Sakugawa, but
Sakugawa died more than a decade before the first permanent photo-
graphic image was produced.
1 See Funakoshi Gichin, Karate-do: My Way of Life (Kodansha, 1981), ch. 2.
2 Chikudun Pechin is the lowest of the three Pechin ranks; the others
are Pekumi Pechin (親雲上) and Satunushi Pechin (里之子親雲上).
to the Matsumura line of transmission).1 He is said to have learnt

the kata Chinto from a Chinese pirate or castaway called Chinto
or Annan, whom he was sent to arrest and found himself unable
to subdue. He is said also to have learnt one or more kata called
Chiang Nan or Channan from another Chinese teacher who had
come to Shuri on diplomatic business. These Channan kata are
now lost, but they are believed to have formed the basis of the
first two of the five elementary kata now known as Pinan or
Heian. Matsumura, like Takahara, attached great importance to
the ethical aspects of martial arts practice when carried to its
highest level: self-development, discipline, virtue, sincerity, peace
and harmony.2
Matsumura Sokon
1 Hakutsuru ( 白鶴 ) is “White Crane”; the kata was composed by

Matsumura evidently by way of homage to the Chinese lineage of his
art. There are now several kata called Hakutsuru, all supposedly
related in various degrees to Matumura’s original one, though there
seems to be some controversy over the authentic form of the original
Hakutsuru kata.
2 See Matsumura’s letter of 13 May, 1882 to his student Ryosei Kuwae:
George W. Alexander, Okinawa: Island of Karate (Yamazato Pub-
lications, 1991), p. 43.
The importance of Matsumura “Bushi” to karate history lies

chiefly in the fact that he systematized the various Okinawan
and Chinese elements of Okinawa te into a more coherent system
than anything that had existed previously. This system became
known as Matsumura Shorin Ryu (松村少林流 ) (“Matsumura
Shaolin School”), though it is not clear whether this name was
devised by Matsumura himself or by his student Itosu Anko (see
below). At all events, it represents a candid acknowledgement of
the Chinese roots of the art. It is also possible, though not clearly
established, that it was Matsumura who coined the expression
Shuri te. Shorin Ryu exists today in a number of variant forms –
Kobayashi Ryu ( 小林流 ), 1 Matsubayashi Ryu (see p. 17),
Shobayashi Ryu (少林流)2 – all of which are more or less related
to Matsumura’s original version. When Matsumura died, his
system passed to his grandson Matsumura Nabe (松村那倍) (1860–
1930), 3 who passed it to his nephew Soken Hohan ( 祖堅方範 )
(1889–1982). The present head of the school is Soken Hohan’s
pupil Kise Fusei (吉瀬普成) (b. 1935). A claim of some kind was
made in the 1980s by an American called Glenn Premru to be
Soken Hohan’s USA representative, but doubt has been cast on
the legitimacy of this claim.4
Matsumura’s student Itosu Anko (糸洲安恒) (1831–1915) was
another native of the Yamagawa district of Shuri, born into the
minor aristocracy of Okinawa and educated in the Chinese
classics and the art of calligraphy. Small and unhealthy as a child
1 Founded by Chibana Choshin (知花朝信) (1885 – 1969). Some sources

say that it was Chibana who first used the name Shorin Ryu.
2 Founded by Shimabuku Eizo ( 島袋永三 ) (b. 1925), the younger
brother of Shimabuku Tatsuo: see. pp. 62–70, below.
3 Another grandson, Chitose Tsuyoshi (千歳强直) (1898–1984), became
an assistant to Funakoshi Gichin and subsequently founded the
school known as Chito Ryu.
4 Glenn Premru’s Okinawan Karate Federation seems to have been
defunct for some years. Another American, George Dillman, claims
to have been introduced to previously secret techniques by Soken
Hohan during a three-hour private lesson in 1972, but this claim has
been vigorously contested.
he began his martial training with Matsumura at the age of fifteen.

In adult life he became a senior civil servant in the service of king
Sho Tai until the abolition of the Okinawan monarchy in 1879.
Thereafter he was a teacher, first at the Shuri Jingo Elementary
School, and later at the Okinawa Prefectural Dai Ichi College and
the Prefectural Teacher Training College. He did not invent his
own version or “style” of tode, but he conscientiously assimilated
and popularised the Shuri te taught by Matsumura and adapted it
to educational purposes of his own. It is this that secures for him a
significant place in the history of Karate.
Itosu Anko. This image is enlarged from a group

photograph; the identity of the young man in
front of Itosu is not known
Itosu was possibly the earliest karate teacher to promote the study
of the art outside the traditional model of a closely super-vised
personal relationship – often a “live-in” relationship – between
teacher and pupil. His principal achievement – if we are right to
regard it as an achievement (see chapter 4) – was to bring about the
introduction of Shuri te into the Okinawan secondary school system
and to promote its practice by large organised masses of students.

The supposed advantages of this are set out in a long letter that Itosu
sent to the Okinawan Prefectural Education Department in Meiji 41
(i.e. in 1908).1 In pursuance of his educational goals he devised the
series of simplified kata called Pinan, suitable for use by schoolboys
and capable of being learnt relatively easily. These are abridged from
the Kushanku and Chiang Nan/Channan kata that Itosu learnt from
Matsumura. He also broke down the long Naihanchi kata taught by
Matsumura into the three shorter kata now called Naihanchi (or
Tekki) shodan, nidan and sandan (the original “long” Naihanchi is
lost, though there have been conjectural attempts to reconstruct it
from the shorter Naihanchi kata currently practised. According to
the statements of many of his subsequent students, Itosu taught and
created a number of other kata that have since become familiar
elements of curricula derived from the Shuri te tradition. He is said
also to have invented the helical or “corkscrew” punch that is a
characteristic of modern karate (though this is sometimes attributed
to Matsumura Sokon). Itosu seems to have been the first to use the
regimented or mechanical style of class teaching that has now
established itself universally. Among his many students were
Mabuni Kenwa and Funakoshi Gichin (see pp. 43–57, below). It is as
the teacher of these pivotal figures, and as the de facto inventor of
karate teaching to large groups as distinct from individual students,
that Itosu is important as a link in the historical chain that we are
examining.
Naha Te
Higaonna (Higashionna) Kanryo (東恩納寛量 ) (1853–1916)2 may be

regarded as the first exponent of a distinct Naha te style. He was
1 This letter is printed in full in Nakasone Genwa’s Karate-do Taikan (空

手道大観 ) (A General Survey of Karate-do) (1938). For an English
translation of this book see M.McKenna, An Overview of Karate-do
(Kowakan Karatedo Ltd., 2009).
2 (The kanji of his name are pronounced "Higaonna" in Okinawa, and
"Higashionna" in Japan.)
born into a relatively prosperous commercial family in the

Nishimura district of Naha City and at the age of fourteen or
fifteen began to study Lohan quan (“Monk Fist”) with a teacher
called Aragaki Seisho ( 新垣世璋 ) (1840–1918). Aragaki was an
official interpreter at the Okinawan royal court who had
apparently studied in Fuzhou City, Fujian province, with a
teacher called Wai Xinxian – possibly the same Wai Xinxian that
some sources identify as a teacher of Matsumura Sokon. Highly
regarded in his day, Aragaki Seisho’s students are said to have
included Funakoshi Gichin, Mabuni Kenwa and Uechi Kanbun
(see pp. 70–75, below). Aragaki was known for teaching the kata
Unsu, Seisan, Shihohai, Niseshi and Sanchin.1 It is possible that
Higaonna learnt Sanchin and Seisan kata from him: Higaonna is
usually said to have learnt a version of Sanchin in China, but
Aragaki was certainly teaching it on Okinawa during the 1860s
and 1870s.
Higaonna Kanryo
1 Two kobudo kata are also attributed to him: Aragaki no kun and
Aragaki no sai.
In March 1873 Higaonna migrated to Fuzhou, possibly taking

with him a letter of introduction to Wai Xinxian from Aragaki.
According to some accounts, he remained in China for fifteen years,
though others say that he was there for only three (from 1877 to
1880). Some say that he went to China specifically to study the
martial arts; others suggest that his anti-Japanese political symp-
athies made it necessary to go into exile at a time of tension
between Okinawa and Japan. 1 He appears to have trained in a
number of styles with a number of teachers, but his principal
teacher is identified, under several variant forms of his name, as Ru
Ru Kyo, Ryu Ryu Ko, To Ru Ko, Liu Liu Gung, Liu Liu Ko or To Ru
Ko. Higaonna never wrote this person’s name down (it has been
suggested, though it seems unlikely, that Higaonna was unable to
write) and there has been a good deal of speculation as to exactly
who he was. It has been suggested that there never was such a
person and that Ryu Ryu Ko (etc.) was actually the name of a
place.2 This suggestion is not plausible, however (see p. 24, below),
and has not found wide acceptance. Another suggestion is that the
various forms of the name that have been transcribed from the oral
tradition are aliases or nicknames of Xie Zhongxiang (1852–1930),
the founder of the Fujian Whooping Crane method of quanfa. This
seems to be the most widely held belief as to the identity of Higa-
onna’s teacher and, for want of anything better, we are inclined to
accept it, though it has to be acknowledged that the matter is far
from straightforward. Higaonna – only a year younger than Xie
Zhongxiang – seems at first to have been a domestic servant or
factotum rather than a formal student. The legend is that Higaonna
rescued Xie Zhongxiang’s daughter from a disastrous flood and, in
gratitude, Xie Zhongxiang accepted him as a pupil. This, however,
is the kind of folklore motif that it is impossible to authenticate.
1 I.e. in the years immediately before the Japanese annexation of

Okinawa as a prefecture in 1879, when Okinawa was divided into
pro- and anti-Japanese factions. See pp. 19–21, below.
2 . Another suggestion is that Ru Ru Kyo is in fact the Chinese form (or a
Chinese pronunciation) of Higaonna’s own name, ‘Kanryo.’

Higaonna returned to Okinawa in the 1880s and began to teach

a style combining his earlier knowledge of Okinawa te with the
Fujian White Crane methods that he had acquired in China.
According to his student Kyoda Juhatsu (許田重発) (1887–1968)1
Higaonna taught four kata: Sanchin, Sanseiryu, Seisan and
Pechurin (more usually called Suparinpai); though some sources
say that he also knew and taught – though perhaps not to Kyoda
Xie Zhongxiang, Higaonna Kanryo’s

probable teacher
Juhatsu – Kururunfa, Saifa, Seiunchin, Seipai and Shisochin kata.
It seems likely, however, that the earliest versions of the kata
taught by Higaonna were rather different from the ones practised
today. For our purposes the most important of Higaonna’s
students are Miyagi Chojun (see pp. 23–35, below) and Mabuni
Kenwa.
1 Kyoda Juhatsu is the founder of a relatively little-known version of

Naha te called Tou-on Ryu ( 東恩流 ) – “Blessing from the East
School.”
Tomari te
With respect to the number of modern styles that trace their
lineages from it, Tomari te is the least fruitful of the three
historical families of Okinawa te. It is also the weakest in terms of
an identifiable separate identity. At a fairly early stage it became
largely indistinguishable from Shuri te; this is a statement that the
purist may wish to dispute, but for all practical purposes it is true.
The Shorin Ryu variants that currently exist are, in effect, all
merged or syncretic versions of Shuri te and Tomari te.
The principal Tomari te teacher of whom we have knowledge
is Matsumora Kosaku (松茂良興作) (1829–1898), who seems to
have taught versions of the kata Naihanchi, Rohai, Passai,
Wankan and Wanshu. The legend (and the story has all the
hallmarks of legend) is that he and a fellow practitioner called
Oyodomari Kokan (親泊興寛) (1827–1905) studied with a Chinese
pirate called Annan who had been shipwrecked on the Okinawan
coast and lived in a cave in the hills to the north of Tomari. 1
Matsumora’s principal students were Motobu Choki (本部朝基)
(1870–1944), who also studied with Matsumura Sokon and Itosu
Anko; and Kyan Chotoku (喜屋武朝徳) (1870–1945). Motobu
Choki is the founder of the Motobu Ryu school of karate which
has enjoyed something of a revival in recent decades under the
leadership of his son Chosei (兆世) (b. 1925). Motobu Choki and
Kyan Chotoku were both teachers of Nagamine Shoshin (長嶺将真)
(1907–1997) who in 1947 founded the school called Matsubayashi
Ryu ( 松林流 ). 2 With the death of Nagamine Shoshin’s son
Takayoshi (高兆) in June 2012 the headship of this school passed
to Taira Takayoshi ( 平家高兆 ) (b. 1943). (Kyan Chotoku will
presently reappear again, as the principal teacher of Shimabuku
Tatsuo.
1 One assumes that this is the same person as the Annan (or Chinto)
said to have taught the kata Chinto to Matsumura Sokon.
2 Nagamine wrote two valuable books in Japanese, now available in
English translations: The Essence of Okinawan Karate-Do (Tuttle, 1976)
and) and Tales of Okinawa's Great Masters (Tuttle, 2000).

What we have outlined in this chapter is a very simplified picture
of what may be called the prehistory of modern karate. The three
mainstream styles of Okinawa te are by no means as distinct from
one another as a brief account of them suggests. Certainly the
distinction between Shuri te and Tomari te is tenuous – arguably
so much so as to be practically meaningless. Also, the histor-
iography of early karate – indeed, of karate as a whole – is more
than ordinarily difficult. It is clear in broad terms that what we
now know as karate is a hybrid art with a complex set of origins,
but it is not possible to describe those origins in detail. The most
that can be said is that the immediate ancestor styles of the
“modern” karate schools arose on Okinawa between the
fourteenth and the nineteenth centuries, and that they consisted of
indigenous fighting arts increasingly modified by the influence of
Chinese quanfa: largely, though not entirely, by the various Crane
methods of Fujian. It is to some consideration of the modern
karate schools that we now come.
2
THE MODERN KARATE SCHOOLS
F
ROM THE EARLY part of the seventeenth century, the small
and vulnerable Ryukyu kingdom came increasingly under
the military and economic sway of Japan. Powerful
interests within the federation of the Tokugawa shogunate1 had
every reason to seek control over an important commercial link
with China and South East Asia. The refusal of the Ryukyu
kingdom to support the Japanese invasions of Korea during 1592–
1598 or to give proper recognition to the Shogunate had created
tensions that could conveniently serve as a pretext for hostilities,
and in April 1609 the Shimazu clan of the Satsuma province – the
Ryukyu kingdom’s nearest Japanese neighbour – launched an
invasion of the Ryukyu islands. The king, Sho Nei (1564–1620),
realising the futility of resistance to a large and well-equipped
army, capitulated after only three days of fighting. Sho Nei re-
mained nominally king, but under conditions of vassalage. The
Shimazu clan took de facto control of the Ryukyu islands, dividing
them into two large administrative areas and closely controlling
all Ryukyuan commercial activity.
The invasion of 1609 marked the end of what is called Ko
Ryukyu (古琉球), “ancient Okinawa.” For more than two centur-
ies thereafter the Ryukyu kingdom found itself in the uncom-
1 The feudal Tokugawa shogunate ruled Japan from 1603 until the
restoration of imperial rule (the “Meiji restoration”) in 1868.
fortable position of being a satellite or tributary of both Japan, as

represented by the Satsuma clan, and China, though with Japan as
the dominant partner. This division of loyalties was a source of
perennial tension, and in 1872, the kingdom finally became a
feudal province of Japan and the monarchy was abolished. The
last king, Sho Tai (1843–1901), was required to migrate to Tokyo
and went home to Okinawa only once in the remainder of his life.
Finally, in 1879 the Ryukyu Islands were formally annexed by
Japan and became, as they still are, the Okinawa prefecture.
The removal of so many cultural and political boundaries after
1879 prepared the way for the spread of karate – though it seems to
have been a comparatively gradual spread – from Okinawa to the
Japanese mainland. As a result of this spread there arose, alongside
the more or less ad hoc and informal practices of Okinawa, the
organised and standardised schools or “styles” that have become so
familiar. In this chapter, we shall say something about the
development of these schools during the twentieth century. The
word “style” is not altogether satisfactory – the Japanese usually
use the words ryu (流), “school” or kai (会), “association” – but we
shall use it as a matter of convenience.
It was in conjunction with the dissemination of Karate to Japan that

the word “karate” acquired what is now its established meaning
as the name of an empty-handed – weaponless – martial art.
Wishing to systematise and unify their art, a number of
prominent teachers and other interested parties met at the
Showa Kaikan (Meeting Hall) in Naha City on 24 October, 1936.
Their principal objective was to create an association for the
regulation of what had evolved into much more than a local
Okinawan practice.1 They seem, indeed, to have been especially
anxious to stress the Japanese character of karate; one’s
1 The minutes of this meeting are printed as an appendix to Toyama

Kanken, Karatedo Dai Hokan (Tsuru Shobo, 1960), pp. 377–392. In 1937, as
a result of the 1936 meeting, a committee calling itself the Okinawa-ken
Karate-do Koshin Kai (沖縄縣空手道更新会) (Prefecture of Okinawa
Association for the Improvement of Karate-do) was established.
impression is of a public relations exercise intended to dissociate

the art from its provincial origins and establish its claim to
respectability on mainland Japan. Presently the discussion turned
This is a photograph of the committee established in 1937 after the 1936

meeting. Back row, left to right: Shiroma Shinpan (城間真繁) (1890–
1954), Chitose Tsuyoshi, Chibana Choshin, Nakasone Genwa (仲宗根源和
) (1895-1978). Front row, left to right: Kyan Chotoku (喜屋武朝徳)
(1870 –1945), Yabu Kentsu (屋部憲通) (1866–1937) , Hanashiro
Chomo (花城長茂) (1869–1945), Miyagi Chojun (宮城長順) (1888–
1953)
to the question of what the official name of the art should be. Tode
and karate, written as 唐手, were terms that had long been in
more or less indiscriminate use; but, as we have seen, 唐手 is
“Chinese hand” or “T’ang hand.” The author and publisher
Nakasone Genwa1 pointed out to the meeting that the expression
“Chinese hand” was not popular in Japan, and a sense emerged
1 Nakasone, a karateka himself, though not a prominent one, was

responsible for the first publication of many of the writings of
Funakoshi Gichin.
that it ought to be changed. After some discussion, it was agreed

that the word karate should be retained but that in future it
should be written as 空手, “empty hand” rather than as 唐手 (the
kanji 空(empty) and 唐 (China) are both pronounced in the same
way). The adoption of this homophone was not completely an
innovation; there are occurrences of 空手 in written sources before
1936 (the term was used as early as 1905 by Hanashiro Chomo); but
it now became the recognised general name of the art formerly
known as tode or Okinawa te.1
The teachers who assembled in Naha City in 1936 had as one of
their objectives the eventual unification of existing karate styles
into a single art with a common set of kata. Gizaburo Furukawa,
the Okinawa Prefecture’s Director of Physical Education and one
of the interested parties present at the meeting, said:
There are many schools or styles of karate at present; I think we

should do all we can to unify them. I understand that there are
small differences between the Shuri style of karate and the Naha
style of karate. 2 I think both should be unified and we should
create the kata of a Japanese karate-do … I think karate would
become popular all over the country if we had unified kata. For
example, we can begin by establishing ten kata as Japanese karate.
The name of each kata should be translated into Japanese.3
This aspiration to unity has not been realised or even approached.

On the contrary, schools and sub-schools of karate – often hostile to
1 Part of the reason for the dislike of 唐手 in Japan seems to have been
the Japanese antipathy to all things Chinese after the Sino-Japanese
war of 1894–1895. Such antipathies can be very trivial and long-lived.
But one has to take account also of the evident fact that Okinawan
teachers very much wanted their art to be accepted in Japan and as
Japanese, possibly for no reason beyond social aspiration.
2 Notice that by now there is no reference to a separate Tomari te
“style” of karate.
3 He is here referring to the fact that many traditional Okinawan kata
have Chinese names. The translation of these names into Japanese
was never undertaken systematically and has never been completed
or, indeed, carried very far.
one another – multiplied during the twentieth century and may

well go on doing so in the future. The three ancestor styles of Shuri
te, Naha te and Tomari te have produced numerous offspring, and
we have space here to deal only with the most prominent of them.1
In order to avoid seeming to imply an order of priority, we shall
consider them in alphabetical order. The reader should understand
also that actual lines of succession – “family trees” – are vastly
complex, and naturally become ever more so with the passage of
time and the multiplication of the generations. We cannot here give
more than a sketch; nor do we intend to go into the perennially
controversial question of the authenticity of the various lineages or
lines of transmission.
The Larger Schools
Goju Ryu (剛柔流)

Miyagi Chojun, the founder of Goju Ryu, was born in the
Higashimachi district of Naha. (his original given name was
Matsu; it was changed to Chojun after the death of his father in
1893, when he was adopted into the family of his uncle, a
prosperous businessman). When he was ten or eleven years old
Miyagi began to study with a Tomari te practitioner called
Aragaki Ryuko (新垣龍子) (1875–1961)2 who in 1902 introduced
him as a promising student to Higaonna Kanryo, who thereafter
became his principal teacher. Apart from a two-year period of
military service during 1910–1912, Miyagi remained with
Higaonna until the latter’s death in 1915. During his military
service he studied judo and, as a non-commissioned officer in the
army medical corps, acquired a knowledge of anatomy and
1 For an account of some of the smaller and less well known schools see
Mark Bishop, Okinawan Karate: Teachers, Styles and Secret Techniques
(Tutttle Publishing, 1999).
2 It is not clear whether Aragaki Ryuko was related to the Aragaki
Seisho who had taught Higaonna Kanryo. The prominent Goju Ryu
teacher Aragaki Shuichi (b. 1929) is Aragaki Ryuko’s grandson.
physiology that he was later to put to use in devising the routine

of junbi undo (準備運動) – warm-up or conditioning exercises –
that is still used by many Goju Ryu karateka.
Shortly before Higaonna’s death Miyagi travelled to China with
a Chinese friend called Wu Xiangui (1886–1940), known in
Okinawa as Gokenki (呉賢貴), who was an exponent of Fujian
White Crane quanfa. Initially they seem to have had no particular
study plan in view. Their immediate purpose was to try to locate
the school of Higaonna’s teacher Ryu Ryu Ko – possibly they made
the journey at Higaonna’s suggestion or request. They were able to
locate Ryu Ryu Ko’s grave and copy out the inscription on the
gravestone, but they could find no trace of the school; they
succeeded only in making contact with an elderly former student of
Ryu Ryu Ko who told them that his art was no longer practised.1
On this occasion Miyagi remained in Fujian province for some time,
where he is said to have studied baguazhang and Shaolin quan.
Some sources say that he visited China three times in all.
Miyagi Chojun
1 All this of course tells against the suggestion that there was no such
person as Ryu Ryu Ko (etc.).
On his return to Okinawa, Miyagi began to teach a synthesis of

what he had learnt from Higaonna Kanryo and what he had
acquired in China: a combination of the existing Naha te with the
hard, linear techniques of Shaolin quan and the soft circular
defensive movements of baguazhang. It was not until 1926 that,
with the financial assistance of his friend Gokenki (who was a
prosperous tea merchant), he opened a dojo in Naha City. His
other partners in this venture were Hanashiro Chomo, Motobu
Choyu ( 本部朝勇 ) (1857–1928) (the older brother of Motobu
Choki) and Mabuni Kenwa. Each of the four taught his own
version of tode, with additional instruction in Fujian White Crane
provided by Gokenki.1 This enterprise was short lived, however,
succumbing to financial difficulties in 1929.
The name Goju Ryu came into being more or less by accident.
In 1929, one of Miyagi’s senior students, Shinzato Jinan (新里仁安)
(1901–1945), gave a demonstration of Miyagi’s art at a martial arts
festival in Kyoto. He was a little taken aback when somebody
asked him what the name of his ryu was, because, so far, no one
had thought to give it a name; presumably it was still thought of
as Naha te. On the spur of the moment – presumably for the sake
of saying something rather than nothing – Shinzato replied that it
was called Hanko Ryu (半硬流) (“Half-hard school”). When he
told this story to Miyagi, Miyagi, after giving the matter some
thought, decided on the name Goju Ryu (“Hard/ Soft School”).
The name comes from the third of eight principles of quanfa listed
in the ancient Chinese martial arts manual called (in Japanese)
Bubishi: “Ho go ju don to” (法剛柔吞吐), “The method of hard and
soft is breathing in and breathing out.”2 The meaning of this pithy
saying is hard to explain in writing (one almost wishes that
1 The kata Kakufa, preserved in the Goju Ryu of Higa Seko (比嘉世幸)
(1898–1966) is believed to have been taught or created by Gokenki.
2 Bubishi (武備志) is the Japanese pronunciation of the Chinese Wubei
Zhi, “A Record of Military Preparation.” This is the title of two
different Chinese treatises, the second and shorter of which is the one
referred to here. This important text has been translated into English by
Patrick McCarthy: Bubishi: The Classic Manual of Combat (Tuttle, 2008).
Miyagi had stuck with Hanko Ryu), but Goju Ryu was the name
he registered with the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai in 1933.1
Miyagi visited mainland Japan several times between 1928 and
1931. Okinawan Karate was now solidly established there,
especially in the universities, largely thanks to the exertions of
Funakoshi Gichin (see below). The purpose of Miyagi’s visits seems
to have been to promote his own style and secure its acceptance by
the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai. In 1931, at Ritsumeikan University in
Kyoto, he met a young law student and enthusiastic karateka called
Yamaguchi Jitsumi (山口実美) (1909–1989) who, with Miyagi’s
encouragement, founded the Ritsumeikan Daigaku Karate Kenkyu
Yamaguchi Gogen in later life
1 The Dai Nippon Butoku Kai (大日本武徳会, “All Japan Martial Virtue
Association”) was a martial arts regulatory body founded in 1895
under the auspices of the Japanese Ministry of Education and
sanctioned by the Meiji emperor. It was abolished after World War II at
the insistence of the allies and re-established in 1953, though not as an
“official” organisation. In 1952 a similar body called the Kokusai
Budoin ( 国際武道院 , “International Martial Arts Institute”) was
established in Tokyo. Miyagi Chojun was the first karate teacher to be
granted (in 1936) the Kyoshi (教士) title by the Dai Nippon Butokukai.
Kai ( 立命館大学空手研究会 ) (Ritsumeikan University Karate

Study Association). This was the first karate club to be founded in
western Japan and soon acquired a reputation as a centre of karate
excellence. Favourably impressed by his ability and enthusiasm,
Miyagi appointed Yamaguchi as his personal representative in
Japan, deputing to him the task of overseeing the spread and
development of Goju Ryu there. At the same time he gave him the
name Gogen (剛玄) – “Hidden Strength” – by which he is now
always known. 1 It was Yamaguchi who in 1932 designed the
famous Goju clenched fist badge, apparently based on a drawing
of Miyagi Chojun’s right hand; it was initially intended as the
emblem of the Ritsumeikan University karate club, but eventually
it became the badge of Yamaguchi’s International Karate-do Goju
Association (see pp. 34–35, below).
The badge designed by Yamaguchi Gogen; the kanji

beneath the fist say “Go Ju Ryu Kara Te Do”
A religious mystic of striking appearance and great personal

magnetism, Yamaguchi arguably did more than anyone in the
Goju community to foster Miyagi’s art in Japan and beyond. In his
day he was probably the best known of all karate masters, not
1 He is also often commonly referred to as “the Cat” (Neko; 猫), partly,

it seems, because of his long hair (like a lion’s mane) and partly
because of his agility and speed.
least because of his extraordinary training methods (the images of

Yamaguchi meditating under a waterfall are known all over the
world). He was born in Miyakonojo Shonai, Miyazaki Prefecture,
near Kagoshima City on the island of Kyushu: with him and his
generation, karate began for the first time to be disseminated by
people of non-Okinawan origin.1
Taki renshu (滝練習) – waterfall practice – by

students of Yamaguchi Gogen
The essence of Goju Ryu as currently practised consists of twelve
kata, usually (but not always) taught in the following order:
Sanchin (三戦).
Gekisai dai ichi (撃砕第一).
Gekisai dai ni (撃砕第二).
1 It is implied in his autobiography, Karate: Goju-Ryu by the Cat

(International Karate-Do Goju-kai, 1966), that Yamaguchi regarded
himself as Miyagi Chojun’s successor as head of the Goju Ryu school.
This has certainly not been accepted by those students who were with
Miyagi at the end of his life.
Saifa (砕破).
Seiunchin (制引戦).
Shisochin (四向戦).
Sanseiryu (三十六).
Seipai (十八).
Kururunfa (久留頓破).
Seisan (十三) (the Goju realisation of this kata is only one of
several different versions practised in different schools).
Suparinpei (壱百零八).
Tensho (転掌).
Apart from the two Gekisai kata and Tensho (see below), these are
said to be descendants – though they are probably much modified
descendants – of the Chinese forms that Higaonna Kanryo had
studied and passed on to Miyagi and that Miyagi himself had
acquired through his own independent study. 1 Sanchin kata,
versions of which occur in a number of Chinese arts, was per-
formed by Higaonna Kanryo with the fingers extended in a nukite (
貫手) “spear hand” shape and with less muscular tension than is
found in modern Goju interpretations (it is still practised in this
way by Uechi Ryu karateka). The practice of performing it with the
hands clenched into fists and with continuous “dynamic tension”
seems to have originated either with Kyoda Juhatsu or Miyagi
Chojun himself, as does the stertorous “Valsalva” breathing which
many Goju karateka still employ and which is regarded by some as
undesirable or injurious to health. 2 Miyagi also developed an
1 The Chinese names and meanings of the kata, and especially their
relation to original Chinese “animal” forms, have been obscured by the
various attempts made by teachers to “translate” the original Fujian
dialect into Japanese homophones. A good deal of work on this int-
eresting and complex subject has been done by the Okinawan karate
researcher Kinjo Akio. See his Karate Denshin Roku (A True Record of the
Transmission of Karate), Okinawa, Tosho Center, 1999.
2 A good deal that is dangerous has been written about “ibuki” (気吹)
breathing techniques while performing Sanchin kata. “Valsalva”
abbreviated form of Sanchin kata, leaving out the two 180° turns
found in the longer form. 1 Both versions are practised in
contemporary Goju dojo. The longer is called Higaonna no Sanchin
(東恩納の三戦) (“Higaonna’s Sanchin”) or Sanchin dai (三戦大)
(“Large Sanchin”); the shorter is called Miyagi no Sanchin (宮城の
三戦) or Sanchin sho (三戦小) (“Small/Lesser Sanchin”).
Miyagi also composed three kata himself. In 1940, the com-
mittee of teachers formed after the Naha City meeting of 1936 was
asked by the governor of Okinawa to devise “universal exercise”
(普及, “fukyu”) kata that might be taught in schools as a means of
enthusing pupils and developing their fitness for combat (this was
at a time, it must be remembered, of imminent world war). In
keeping with the general desire of the time to unify the various
karate styles, these “universal” kata were to be independent of
any existing school; or, to put it another way, potentially common
to all schools. The task of composing them was deputed to
Nagamine Shoshin of Shorin Ryu, and Miyagi Chojun. Miyagi’s
contribution was the kata now known as Gekisai dai ichi (“Gekisai
# 1”). Some time later he added a second elementary kata, based
on the first, called Gekisai dai ni (“Gekisai # 2”). These are still
practised as separate kata, though they resemble one another very
closely.2 Earlier, in 1921 or perhaps earlier, Miyagi composed the
breathing is the forcible exhalation of air against a closed or partially

closed glottis. This “straining” increases intrathoracic pressure and
causes a trapping of blood in the great veins, preventing it from
entering the chest and right atrium. When the breath is released,
intrathoracic pressure drops and the trapped blood is quickly
propelled through the heart, producing an increase in the heart rate
(tachycardia) and blood pressure. Immediately after this a reflex
bradycardia (abnormally slow heart action) ensues. Especially in
older adults these effects can be fatal. And see p. 66 n. below.
1 An apocryphal story is that Miyagi, asked to give a demonstration
before the emperor, eliminated the turns from Sanchin kata in order
to avoid the discourtesy of turning his back on the emperor.
2 Nagamine Shoshin’s fukyu kata is still practised as part of the
syllabus of Matsubayashi Shorin Ryu. Because of the great similarity
between the two Gekisai kata, some Goju teachers use it in preference
to Gekisai dai ich or ni.
kata called Tensho with the intention of modifying and balancing

the tension or hardness of Sanchin kata with an element of
suppleness or softness; in this sense, Tensho is perhaps the quin-
tessential “go/ju” kata. It is usually taught last of all, though it
seems illogical that this should be so. Some people suggest that
Miyagi based it on the hand forms called Rokkishu ( 六気手)
illustrated in the Bubishi, though there is little resemblance
between Tensho as now practised and the drawings reproduced
in the Bubishi. Tensho looks superficially like a much simplified
version of the Wing Chun form called Sil Lim Tao or Siu Nim Tao,
which is itself related to the Fujian Crane systems.
Miyagi Chojun teaching Seiunchin kata1
Sanchin and Tensho kata are customarily called heishugata (閉

手形) (“closed hand kata”); the rest are kaishugata (開手形) (“open
hand kata”). These terms bear no relation to the way in which the
kata are performed, and their significance is not obvious. They
1 This photograph, taken in 1929 at the Naha Commercial High School,

is reproduced by permission of Guillermo Shinzato, a grandson of
Shinzato Chijun, the karateka second from the right in the front row.
seem to have been intended to mean that the heishugata are

esoteric (i.e. not given with an “open hand” to all comers),
whereas the kaishugata are as it were the exoteric or “public” kata
of Goju Ryu. This is not, however, a distinction that makes sense
in the context of modern Goju Ryu teaching. Also, subsequent
teachers – notably Toguchi Seikichi (渡口政吉) (1917–1998) and
Otsuka Tadahiko (大塚忠彦) (1940–2012) – have added to and in
varying degrees modified the original twelve kata established by
Miyagi, so that there are now several “new” Goju kata, practised
in some dojo and not others.

The twentieth-century history of karate in Okinawa and Japan is, of
course, violently punctuated by World War II. Miyagi’s house and
dojo in Naha City were destroyed during the war; his library was
lost, his third son and two daughters were killed and many of his
former students either lost their lives or were reduced to destit-
ution. Miyagi himself suffered worsening cardiac and hypertensive
problems in the years after the war, no doubt as a consequence of
these stresses. During the final years of his life, even after his house
had been rebuilt with the help of friends and students, he seems to
have preferred to teach informally in his garden. In 1952 some of
his surviving students created an organisation called the Goju Ryu
Shinko Kai (剛柔流振興) (“Association for the Promotion of Goju
Ryu”), of which Miyagi consented to become president in spite of
his deteriorating health. Having struggled to revitalise Goju Ryu
after the war, Miyagi died of a heart attack on 8 October, 1953,
without having nominated a successor: his most probable suc-
cessor, Shinzato Jinan, had died in 1944 during the American
bombing of Okinawa.
The loyal nucleus of Miyagi’s students came together shortly after
his death to discuss the question of a successor. They were not able to
come to a unanimous agreement, not least because several people
apparently claimed to have been appointed as Miyagi’s successor in
Shinzato Jinan
private conversations. 1 Goju Ryu was divided – not entirely

amicably – into several lines of transmission. Miyazato Ei’ichi (宮
里栄一) (1922–1999) was accepted as Miyagi’s successor by many
in the Goju community (including Miyagi’s family) and continued
to teach in Miyagi’s garden dojo after his death. In 1957, Miyazato
opened his own dojo, the Jundokan, in Asato, Naha City. Yagi
Meitoku (八木明徳) (1912–2003), opened his Meibukan dojo in the
Daido district of Naha City immediately after Miyagi’s death.
Toguchi Seikichi founded an organisation called Shorei kan (尚礼
館), opening his first dojo in Koza City, Okinawa, in 1954; in 1962
the first Shorei kan dojo was opened in Tokyo, and in 1966 the
Shorei kan hombu dojo in Tokyo was built. Miyagi Chojun’s
surviving son Takahashi (敬) b. 1919) seems to have played no
great part in the perpetuation and organisation of his father’s art.
The most prominent contemporary Goju Ryu teacher –
prominent not least because he has so assiduously sought
publicity – is Higaonna Morio (東恩納盛男) (b. 1938),2 a lifelong
1 See Toguchi Seikichi, Okinawan Goju-Ryu II: Advanced Techniques of

Shorei-Kan Karate (Black Belt Communications, 2001), p. 26.
2 Not related to Higaonna Kanryo.
and loyal disciple of Miyagi An’ichi (宮城安一) (1931–2009). There

has, however, been a good deal of dispute about Miyagi An’ichi’s
own claim to have been a senior student of Miyagi Chojun (to
whom, incidentally, he was not related).1 A rather pointless contro-
versy has also sprung from the fact that in 1984 Higaonna Morio
accepted a ninth dan from Higa Yuchoku (1910–1994), a teacher of
Shorin Ryu rather than Goju Ryu.2 In 1979 Higaonna founded the
International Okinawan Goju Ryu Federation (IOGKF), which now
has branches in some 45 countries. Higaonna Morio is now almost
certainly the world’s best known exponent of Goju Ryu karate. Not
the least of his contributions has been the large amount of written
and video material he has produced over a period of more than
thirty years.3
At the time of Miyagi Chojun’s death, Yamaguchi Gogen’s
Japanese branch of Goju Ryu was already to an extent dissociated
from Miyagi’s Okinawan students. It swiftly made headway
outside Japan also. In 1950 Yamaguchi had founded the Inter-
national Karate-do Goju Association (IKGA) with himself as its
head regardless of the fact that Miyagi was still alive. This
organisation is now headed by Yamaguchi’s third son, Yamaguchi
1 Miyagi An’ichi was 22 years old when Miyagi Chojun died, and had
studied Goju Ryu chiefly under the supervision of Miyazato Ei’ichi. In
his book The History of Karate: Okinawan Goju Ryu (Dragon Books, 1998),
Higaonna Morio seems to suggest that Miyagi An’ichi was Miyagi
Chojun’s true inheritor. This suggestion was contested emphatically by
Miyazato Ei’chi, and has been contested by others. It is, though, never
possible to see the truth, if there is any truth, behind the constant
political squabbles that infect the culture of modern karate.
2 “Pointless” because (a) it is not unusual or objectionable for someone
to be given an honorary dan grade as a mark of respect, and (b) Higa
was acting not as a teacher of Shorin Ryu but in his capacity as
president of an umbrella organisation, the Okinawan Karate and
Kobudo Association (沖縄空手古武道連盟). The backbiting about this
(and other things) appears to have originated with Miyazato Ei’ichi as
part of a general animosity that he seems to have felt towards Miyagi
An’ichi and Higaonna Morio.
3 In Europe he is especially remembered for his appearance in the 1983
BBC television documentary “The Way of the Warrior.”
Goshi Hirofumi (b. 1942), and at the time of writing has branches in
sixty countries. Yamaguchi Gogen’s eldest son, Yamaguchi Gosei
Norimi (b. 1935), is the head of his own organisation in the United
States called Goju Kai Karate-do USA. Goju Kai (as the Yamaguchi
offshoot of Goju Ryu came to be called) encourages competitive
sparring, which the traditional Goju Ryu curriculum does not, and
the traditional Goju Ryu kata are performed slightly differently by
Goju Kai karateka; but these differences are certainly not marked
enough to establish Goju Kai as a new “style.” It is best understood
as a “Japanified” interpretation of the Goju Ryu that Miyagi had
developed from its Okinawan roots.
Kyokushinkai (極真会)
Kyokushinkai is the youngest of the major karate schools, and is
said by some to be the most widely practised style in the world. It is
by a long way the most challenging in terms of its training regime.
That it is called “kai” (association) rather than “ryu” (school)
suggests that its founder did not so much suppose himself to be
inaugurating a new “style” as to be bringing together the most
effective elements of others.
Oyama Masutatsu
Kyokushin karate was the creation of Oyama Masutatsu (大山

倍達) (1923–1994). Its formal beginning is usually dated from
1964, though the name Kyokushin had been in use for several
years before then. Oyama’s indefatigable self-promotion and the
myths that he and his followers have fostered make it difficult to
get at the true facts of his biography, but it is clear that he was a
remarkable character.
Although he spent most of his adult life there, Oyama was not a
native of Japan. He was born in a small village near the South
Korean port city of Gunsan and spent much of his childhood on an
aunt’s farm in Manchuria; his name originally was Yong I Choi. To
say the least of it, he had no small opinion of his own potential.
Apparently he became fascinated at an early age by the career of
Otto von Bismarck and began to imagine a similarly great future for
himself. He migrated to Japan at the age of fifteen and enrolled at
the Yamanashi School of Youth Aviation, in the hope of becoming a
military pilot. It was at about this time, no doubt with a view to
integrating himself more easily into an environment that felt alien
to him, that he adopted a Japanese name.1 He did not become a
Japanese citizen until 1964.
Oyama had already begun his martial arts training in Manchuria
with an otherwise unknown teacher called Yi or Lee, a seasonal
worker on his aunt’s farm, though presumably this initiation was
not very extensive or thorough. In Japan, he studied Shotokan
karate at Funakoshi Gichin’s dojo at Takushoku University. He
achieved the rank of nidan (second dan) in two years, and by the
time he joined the Imperial Japanese Army in 1943 he was a yondan
(fourth dan). He also studied Daito Ryu aiki jujutsu under the ultra-
nationalist Yoshida Kotaro ( 吉田幸太郎 ) (1883–1966), who
awarded him the menkyo kaiden (免許皆伝: a certificate affirming
that one has mastered the whole of an art) now displayed in the
Kyokushinkai hombu dojo in Tokyo.
1 Oyama (大山) is “Great Mountain”: not a particularly uncommon

name, but one has a feeling that it is typical of Oyama to have chosen
it.
Intensely devoted to his country of adoption, Oyama served in

the Pacific during World War II (there is a story that he almost
became a kamikaze pilot). The surrender and occupation of Japan
at the end of the war seems to have precipitated him – as it did
many Japanese patriots – into a serious psychological crisis. It was
at this point, overcome with grief and self-doubt, that he met a
senior student of Yamaguchi Gogen’s, a fellow Korean called So
Nei Chu, who encouraged him to study Goju Ryu and who also
turned his mind towards Nichiren Buddhism. In later life Oyama
recorded his deep gratitude to So Nei Chu for rescuing him from a
kind of spiritual despair. He also studied judo at the Sone Dojo in
Nakano, Tokyo, achieving the rank of yondan in four years. In
1946 Oyama met the Japanese historical novelist Yoshikawa Eiji
(1892–1962), author of the novel Musashi, a fictionalised life of the
famous swordsman Musashi Miyamoto (1584–1645). The influ-
ence of Yoshikawa and his writing apparently opened Oyama’s
eyes to the true meaning of Bushido, the warrior code of feudal
Japan.
Still restless and dissatisfied with himself and yearning for
some elusive perfection, Oyama resolved to spend three years
training body and mind in a harsh self-imposed solitude. In 1946,
encouraged by So Nei Chu, he and a friend called Yashiro set off
for Mount Minobi in Yamanashi Prefecture, intending to live and
train there in conditions of self-imposed austerity. Yashiro
returned to civilization after a few weeks. Oyama, made of sterner
stuff, remained on the mountain for fourteen months, until the
friend who had arranged to supply him with food sent a message
saying that he could no longer afford to do so. After a short
interval – during which he easily won the Karate Section of the
1947 Japanese National Martial Arts Championships – Oyama
withdrew from the world again, this time to Mount Kiyosumi in
Chiba Prefecture. There, according to his own account, he trained
in solitude with fanatical dedication for another eighteen months.
At the end of this time he felt that he had finally conquered
himself.
Oyama Masutatsu: outdoor makiwara training
There is a good deal of the self-publicist and showman about

Oyama, and much of what we know of his early life comes only
from his own uncorroborated account of it, but he was clearly a
karateka of extraordinary strength and ability. On his return
from Mount Kiyosumi he continued to study Goju Ryu under
Yamaguchi, eventually attaining the rank of hachidan (eighth
dan); but he habitually pushed himself beyond what most
people would consider reasonable limits. Most famously, he
engaged in a series of bare-handed contests against bulls
(possibly he remembered the old story of Matsumura Sokon’s
contest with a bull). Despite being seriously gored on one
occasion in 1957, he is said to have done this fifty-two times and
to have killed three of the bulls outright. In 1951 he started
teaching Karate to US Army personnel stationed at various
Japanese military bases and in 1953, after a year spent promoting
karate in the United States, he separated himself from
Yamaguchi’s Goju and opened his own small dojo in Tokyo.
Bigger and better dojo followed in 1957 and 1964. He began to
use the word Kyokushin in 1957, and in 1964 brought the various
schools that were by then teaching Kyokushin karate into a
central association called the International Karate Organisation
Kyokushinkaikan. Thereafter, he dedicated himself – with out-
standing success – to spreading Kyokushin karate throughout
the world, through demonstrations, challenge matches and with
the support of senior students chosen to represent him. In 1969
he inaugurated the All-Japan Full Contact Karate Open Champ-
ionships, held every year, and, in 1975, the World Full Contact
Karate Open Championships, held every four years. It is said
that, by the end of Oyama’s life, Kyokushin karate was being
practised by some fifteen million people worldwide.
Oyama Masutatsu wrestling with a bull

at some time in the 1950s
Though it attaches so much importance to full-contact fighting,
Kyokushin karate nonetheless has an extensive kata syllabus. The
syllabus now varies somewhat between different schools and
associations, but Oyama himself taught and practised the
following:
Taikyoku (太極) # 1–3: these elementary kata were devised by
Funakoshi Gichin’s son Yoshitaka (see pp. 51–52; 54, below).
(Taikyoku is the Japanese rendering of the Chinese “taiji”; the

idea behind the name is that within their simplicity they
contain the ultimate principles of karate.)
Pinan (平安) # 1–5: these are the elementary or training kata

extracted by Itosu Anko from the longer Kushanku and Chang
Nian/Channan kata taught by Matsumura Sokon.
(The Taikyoku and Pinan kata are also performed within the
Kyokushinkai in a way unique to it, called “ura” (裏, “reverse”),
with backward spinning turns between each technique. This
variant was devised by Oyama as an aid to balance and rapid
mobility.)
Kanku (観空): Funakoshi Gichin’s name for Kushanku kata.
Whereas Kushanku is the name of Matsumura Sokon’s teacher,
Kanku is “looking at the sky.” The name (originally devised by
Funakoshi Gichin) comes from the opening move of the kata,
with the additional implication of “aspiring to higher things.”
Sushiho (五十四歩): this is a much modified version of the
Okinawan kata that in other schools is called Gojushiho or
Useshi.
Bassai (披塞): also known as Passai, this is one of the Shuri te

kata originally taught by Matsumura. Oyama seems to have
removed it from the Kyokushin syllabus during the 1950s, but
it was reinstated by some schools after his death.
Naihanchi (ナイハンチ): roughly the first third of the “lost”
kata originally taught by Matsumura Sokon and divided into
three separate parts by Itosu Anko. With minor differences it is
the same as the Naihanchi of Wado Ryu and the Tekki shodan
kata practised in Shotokan schools.
Gekisai # 1–2 and Tensho: the three kata composed by Miyagi
Chojun.
Sanchin, Saifa, Seiunchin and Seipai: four of the traditional
Naha te/Goju Ryu kata that originated with Higaonna Kanryo.
Yantsu (安三): a kata of uncertain origin, said by some sources

to have been brought back from China by Miyagi Chojun’s
friend Gokenki. As far as we can discover, it is practised only
within the Kyokushinkai; it shows clear signs, however, of
being related to the Chinese Crane tradition.
Tsuki no kata (突きの型): a kata composed by Yamaguchi
Gogen’s student Tada Seigo (1922–1997) specifically to train
punching techniques.
Garyu: (臥龍 or 臥竜) an energetic and difficult kata composed
by Oyama Masutatsu himself. Garyu was Oyama’s pen-name:
it means either “reclining dragon” or (characteristically
enough) “great man.”
In addition to the above there are five modern Kyokushin kata
called Sokugi Taikyoku. These were devised after Oyama’s
death along the lines of the Funakoshi Taikyoku kata, but with
emphasis on kicking: sokugi (足技) is the same as – i.e. is a
different pronunciation of the same kanji as – ashi waza: (“foot
techniques”).
It will be seen from this list that Kyokushin karate is an eclectic

style, combining elements of Shuri/Tomari te and Naha te with
innovations devised by Oyama himself. As we have suggested
already, he perhaps intended not so much to found a new “style”
as to bring together within a single association elements derived
from the established traditions.
Not without reason did Oyama decide to call his association

Kyokushinkai. The word means “extreme reality association”
(most people say “ultimate truth association” as a more elegant
translation). The practice of Kyokushin karate is certainly not a
pursuit for the meek. At its centre is jiyu kumite (自由組手) – free
fighting – done with uncompromising realism: full contact with
no protective equipment and only blows to the head and groin
forbidden (though kicks to the head are allowed). Brutal and
quick effectiveness is prized more highly than artistic polish and
elegance. Before engaging in jiyu kumite the practitioner is

required to go through an exceptionally demanding process of
physical conditioning. The reputation of Kyokushin as the most
gruelling of all karate styles is wholly deserved. The ultimate test
of courage and endurance is called hyakunin kumite (百人組手):
“one hundred man fighting.” The individual is called upon to
fight one hundred opponents successively in rounds of about two
minutes each with a minute’s rest between each one. To succeed
in the test he must win at least half the rounds; if knocked down,
he must not remain down for more than fifteen seconds. Needless
to say, few people submit themselves to this test, and even fewer
do so successfully. Oyama’s original idea was that completion of
the hyakunin kumite would be a requirement for promotion to
fourth or fifth dan, but this plan was – understandably enough –
short lived. Oyama himself completed it three times in a row over
the course of three days.

Oyama Masutatsu died (of lung cancer) on 26 April, 1994. His
organisation had already suffered some degree of fragmentation
as a result of quarrels occasioned at least partly by his own
unpredictable and difficult personality. Nakamura Tadashi (中村
忠) (b. 1942) had left in 1976 to found his own World Seido Karate
Organisation; Oyama Shigeru (大山懋茂) (b. 1966) (no relation)
left and founded the World Oyama Karate Organisation in 1981;
Steve Arneil (b. 1934) of the UK founded the International
Federation of Karate in 1991. Before his death Oyama had named
the relatively junior Matsui Shokei ( 松井章圭 ) (b. 1963) as his
successor – apparently to Matsui’s surprise. This development did
not (to say the least of it) find favour with everyone. In the midst
of litigation and acrimonious dispute Midori Kenji (緑健児) (b.
1962) and Matsushima Yoshikazu (松島良一) (b. 1947) formed
breakaway groups of their own. At the time of writing there are at
least seven Japanese organisations claiming to represent the
Kyokushin tradition.
Shito Ryu (糸東流)

Shito Ryu is the creation of Mabuni Kenwa (摩文仁賢和) (1889–
1952), a native of Shuri and a remote descendant of a distinguished
fifteenth-century Okinawan warrior called Oshiro Kenyo. It is said
that he suffered chronic ill health as a child, and it was with a view
to strengthening his constitution that his parents sent him at the age
of thirteen to study Shuri te with Itosu Anko. He remained with
Itosu for seven years. Then, in 1909, Itosu – who was by now
seventy-eight years old – recommended that he broaden his edu-
cation by studying with another teacher. Mabuni’s contemporary
Miyagi Chojun introduced him to Higaonna Kanryo, with whom
he studied Naha te until Higaonna’s death in 1915. He is said also
to have studied with several other teachers, including Aragaki
Seisho and Miyagi Chojun’s friend Gokenki.1 As an adult Mabuni
became a police officer and with the encouragement Itosu taught
local law enforcement officers and school students in Shuri and
Naha.
Mabuni does not seem to have travelled to China in quest of
knowledge, and as far as we know there are no tall stories about
him and his exploits. Between 1917 and 1928 he made a number
of visits to Tokyo, where he became part of the general
movement to popularise karate on mainland Japan. In 1927 he
met Kano Jigoro (嘉納治五郎)(1860–1938), the founder of judo,
who was apparently favourably impressed by his karate. Finally,
in 1929, with Kano’s encouragement, Mabuni took up permanent
residence in the city of Osaka on Japan’s main island of Honshu.
Mabuni’s Okinawan martial arts education had made him
acquainted with both the hard, linear techniques of Shuri te and
the circular, close range methods characteristic of Naha te. Over a
longish period the idea formed in his mind that the strengths of
Shuri te and Naha te might be brought together in a new
1 In those days, at least in Okinawa, it was common enough for a

martial arts student to learn from a number of different teachers. The
idea that one should have only one master and never depart from or
question his teachings seems to be a characteristically Japanese idea.
synthesis. He began to teach this integrated style in 1929, opening

a number of dojo in Osaka with the financial help of a prosperous
student called Sakagami Ryusho (1915–1993), who was himself to
become a distinguished Shito Ryu instructor.
Mabuni Kenwa
The teachers who first brought karate to mainland Japan often

found themselves up against the inherent conservatism of the
Japanese and a certain tendency to look down on Okinawa. The
Ryukyu Islands were, after all, effectively a Japanese conquest,
and many Japanese were disposed to regard the Okinawans as
colonial bumpkins. Mabuni found that people in Osaka were
mystified by his art and inclined to be hostile to it, and he applied
himself constantly to devising new and more interesting ways of
training. He was one of the first karate instructors to experiment
with bogu kumite ( 防具組手 ): sparring using padded body
armour. Having himself been a police officer in Okinawa, he
adopted the practice of giving free instruction at various police
stations across western Japan. He also encouraged women to
practice – a thing then virtually unheard of – and produced
several introductory and instructional books for the use of

students. Mabuni knew Funakoshi Gichin well, and the two are
said to have exchanged many ideas.
Mabuni and a training partner wearing

experimental body armour
In 1931 Mabuni created an organisation called Dai Nippon
Karate-do Kai (大日本空手道会) – the All Japan Karate-do Assoc-
iation – to unite under one administration the various branches of
his school (the “Dai” was later dropped from the name, possibly
in modest recognition of the fact that his activities were at that
time largely confined to the Osaka area). Presently, just as it had
for Miyagi Chojun, the question arose of what the school should
be called – since before any school could be recognised and
formally registered with the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai it was
required to have a name. Mabuni’s first choice was Hanko Ryu,
“Half-hard School”; but on reflection he settled on the name Shito
Ryu. Possibly this change of mind came about partly because he
knew that Hanko Ryu had already been briefly considered by

Miyagi as a possible name of Goju Ryu. More substantially, he
decided that he wanted the name of his school to reflect his
indebtedness to his teachers: “Shi” (糸) and “to” (東) are, respect-
tively, readings of the initial kanji of the names of Itosu Anko (糸洲
安恒) and Higaonna Kanryo (東恩納寛量). (Also, the homophone
“Shito” (私闘) is “personal struggle”; one suspects that the pun is
intentional.) Shito Ryu was thus the name that Mabuni registered
with the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai in 1939. Some Shito Ryu
organisations claim with pride that Shito Ryu was the first karate
school to be recognised by the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai, though this
distinction seems in fact to belong to Goju Ryu.
Mabuni is said to have had an encyclopaedic knowledge of
kata (he is reputed to have known in excess of ninety) and to
have assimilated new kata with exceptional speed. As a syncretic
style intentionally combining Shuri/Tomari te and Naha te
elements, Shito Ryu has always been distinguished by its large
number of kata, drawn from both Shuri/Tomari te and Naha te
lineages. The following is the list initially prescribed by Mabuni.
Pinan # 1–5.
Naihanchi # 1–3.
Rohai (鷺牌), a kata that exists in three forms; it is related to,

though not the same as, the Shotokan kata called Meikyo.
Bassai/Passai dai (“large”) and sho (“smaller”): two versions of

the Bassai/Passai kata, though the “sho” (小) version does not
much resemble the “dai” (大) version and is not obviously
shorter or simpler than it.
Kosokun/Kushanku (公相君) dai and sho. Again, two versions
of the Kushanku kata originally composed by Matsumura
Sokon, with the “sho” version not noticeably shorter or less
complex than the “dai” one.
Matsukaze (松風). This kata is unique to Shito Ryu. Matsukaze

means “wind in the pines,” and the kata may be named after
the Noh play with the same title. We know of no clear account
of its origin; it may be that Mabuni composed it himself
Jion (慈音).
Jutte (十手).
Ji’in (慈允).
Nijushiho (二十四步).
Wanshu (腕秀).
Chinto (鎮東).
Seisan: another version of the protean Seisan kata that appears
also in Goju, Kyokushin, Shotokan, Wado and Uechi Ryu
schools.
Gojushiho (五十四歩).
Seiunchin.
Seipai.
Chinte (鎮定).
Unsu (雲手).
Sochin (壮鎮).
Kururunfa.
Mabuni attributed all these kata to either Itosu Anko or Higaonna
Kanryo. Subsequently he composed several kata of his own:
Juroku (十六), Aoyagi (青柳), Happosho (八方掌), Kenshu (拳掌),
Miyojo (明浄), Shinpa (新破) and Shinsei (新生) (though this is
almost identical to Miyagi Chojun’s Gekisai dai ni). Shinpa kata –
apparently inspired by Uechi Ryu – was unfinished at the time of
Mabuni’s death and was completed by his son Kenei. Aoyagi and
Miyojo kata were composed specifically for use by women,
though with slight alterations they are routinely used by men also.
To this considerable list, Shito Ryu schools and associations have

added many more since Mabuni’s death. Some schools now list
fifty or more kata in their syllabuses (including, for example, no

fewer than twelve kihon kata and several different versions of
Bassai/Passai and Rohai). It is hard to suppose that any Shito Ryo
exponent knows and practises them all. It is difficult also to
think that it is really necessary to study so many. One’s imp-
ression is that Shito Ryu organisations have tended to amass kata
for the sake of it, without too much attention being paid to
repetition and redundancy. Mabuni himself, notwithstanding his
own extensive knowledge, encouraged students to concentrate
intensively on a few kata.

Mabuni Kenwa died at the comparatively early age of sixty-three
on 23 May, 1952, leaving two sons: Kenei (1918–2015) and Kenzo
(1927–2005) – both of whom subsequently declared themselves to
be their father’s successor. Mabuni Kenei – the older son and,
according to tradition, his father’s natural heir – became head of
the western section of the Nippon Karate-do Kai in Osaka, and
Iwata Manzo (1924–1993) assumed the headship of its eastern
section in Tokyo. The two parts of the organisation were united in
1964 and became the Dai Nippon Karate-do Federation Shitokai,
the name of which was changed in 1993 to the World Shito Ryu
Karate-do Federation. This organisation, now led by Hisatomi
Tokio (b. 1927), recognises Mabuni Kenei as having been the
second soke ( 宗家 ) – family head – of Shito Ryu. In 1954,
however, Mabuni Kenzo established an organisation called Seito
Shito Ryu (also called Shito-Ryu International Karate Do Kai),
having apparently been asked by his mother to take over the
headship of the school in preference to his brother. It is said that
it took him two years to prepare himself for the responsibility,
though we know nothing of the family politics that must have
influenced these developments. On his death Mabuni Kenzo was
succeeded as head of the Seito Shito Ryu by his older daughter,
Mabuni Tsukasa. In addition to these two organisations there are
now more than a dozen Shito Ryu associations, all of which trace
some kind of lineage back to Mabuni Kenwa.
As is always true, it is impossible to arrive at an objective
understanding of the political arguments that have led to such
differences. The available accounts have all been produced by
people who are committed to one side or another; nor are such
quarrels particularly interesting. The school of karate called
Shukokai (修交会) (“Friendship Association”) founded in 1946
by Tani Chojiro (谷長治郎) (1921–1998) is a derivative or offshoot
of Shito Ryu, but was not the result of any quarrel or dispute.
Ironically enough, it has itself split into several independent
associations since Tani Chojiro’s death in 1998.
Shotokan (松濤館)
Despite the rival claim of Oyama Masutatsu’s Kyokushinkai, it
seems likely that Shotokan is the most widely practised style of
karate in the world, thanks largely to the efforts and marketing
acumen of its founder, Funakoshi Gichin (船越義珍) (1868–1957).
Funakoshi was born into the minor Okinawan nobility in the
Yamakawa district of Shuri. Like Mabuni Kenwa, he did not enjoy
good health as a child (apparently he was born prematurely). For
this reason his parents sent him at the age of eleven to study tode
with Asato Anko ( 安里安恒 ) (1827–1906), whose son was a
contemporary of his at school. Finding that his health rapidly
improved with a regime of physical exercise, he took to the art
with enthusiasm. Subsequently he became a student of Itosu
Anko, whom he regarded as his principal teacher.
Superficially, measuring what is known of his personality
against the brash extroversion of Oyama Masutatsu or the noted
eccentricity of Yamaguchi Gogen, the cultured and literate Funa-
koshi is the last man in the world that most people would think of
as being a karate master. His original intention was to enter the
medical profession. He qualified for entry to the medical school of
Tokyo University, but after the Meiji restoration of 1868 the
university’s policy was to accept only students who were pre-
pared to repudiate all aspects of pre-Meiji Japanese culture, and

Funakoshi’s family was among what was called the ganko-to (頑
固党) – the obstinate party. Among other things they refused to
abandon the topknot “Samurai” hairstyle that the Japanese had
prohibited. Excluded from the university, Funakoshi became a
schoolmaster.1
Funakoshi Gichin in later life

Apparently he did not begin to teach karate until 1901, when he
was thirty-three years old. In 1906 he was instrumental in forming
the Okinawa Shubokai ( 沖縄修防会 ) (Okinawa Martial Arts
1 To the disgust of his parents, he eventually cut off his topkot

anyway. It seems extraordinary that someone should allow his
career to be decisively influenced by something so trivial as a
hairstyle, but westerners find it hard to understand the importance
of pride and “face” in pre-World War II Japanese culture. The
legend (and perhaps it is only a legend) is that as late as 1969
Oyama Masutatsu vowed to commit seppuku (切腹) – ritual suicide
– if a Japanese did not win the first All-Japan Full Contact Karate
Open Championship. In the event a Japanese – Yamazaki Terutomo
(山崎照朝) (b. 1947) – did win it.
Association), of which he became chairman in 1913. Within a few

years his reputation as a karate master was established so firmly
that in 1917 he was invited to represent Okinawa at a dem-
onstration at the Butokuden (武徳殿) (Martial Virtues Temple) in
Kyoto – at that time the official centre of the martial arts in Japan. In
1921, Crown Prince Hirohito visited Okinawa and Funakoshi was
again invited to give a performance, by which the future emperor
declared himself much impressed. Finally, in May 1922, Funakoshi
was asked by Kano Jigoro to give a demonstration of his art at the
first All-Japan Athletics Exhibition at Ochanomizu, Tokyo. This
event was such a success that he decided to remain in Japan –
leaving his wife behind him in Okinawa. He remained in Tokyo for
the rest of his life. Some sources suggest that he was unable to
return to Okinawa because of gambling debts run up by his oldest
son Yoshihide (known as Giei) (船越良英) (1903–1961), but this may
be a story put about by rivals. It seems to have originated from
somewhere in the Wado Ryu family, whose founder is said to have
been on bad terms with Funakoshi Giei.
Surviving footage of Funakoshi Gichin in action leaves one with
the impression that, technically, he was not all that impressive, at
least when judged according to modern standards. Indeed, much of
the technical content of what is now called Shotokan karate –
especially its kicking techniques, long-range attacks and deep
rooted stances – was devised by his third son Yoshitaka (known as
Gigo) (船越義豪) (1906–1945), an exceptionally talented karateka
despite suffering for much of his life from the tuberculosis of
which he died at the age of thirty-nine. Funakoshi Gichin’s
significance lies mainly in the fact that he was indefatigable in
promoting karate on the Japanese mainland, thereby indirectly
facilitating its spread to the rest of the world. In common with so
many of his contemporaries he was determined to reinvent
Okinawan karate as a Japanese art and to create a secure
foundation upon which a distinctively Japanese karate might be
built; in which enterprise he was on the whole more successful
than Mabuni Kenwa. Well understanding the importance of
recruiting young men he established flourishing karate clubs at

Keio, Waseda, Hitotsubashi, Takushoku, Chuo, Gakushuin and
Hosei universities. He substituted Japanese names or readings
for the traditional names of several Okinawan kata: Pinan
became Heian; Kushanku became Kanku; Naihanchi became
Tekki, and so on. He was one of the first teachers to adopt the
practice of writing the word karate as 空手. He also introduced
into karate the kyu/dan system that had been adopted by Kano
Jigoro as a means of ranking judo students.
Funakoshi Yoshitaka, Funakoshi Gichin’s third son,

said to be responsible for much of the technical
content of modern Shotokan karate
Beyond calling it karate Funakoshi did not give his style a

name. In common with many of the early teachers, he was
resistant to the idea of separate styles or schools, insisting that
karate should eventually be unified into a single art that might
“pursue an orderly and useful progress into man’s future.” 1 In
1 Funakoshi Gichin, Karate Do: My Way of Life, p. 38.

1939 he built a dojo in Tokyo that became known as Shotokan:

“Shoto’s hall”;1 but the synecdoche by which the word Shotokan
became the name of a “style” originated with Funakoshi’s
students rather than with Funakoshi himself. One sometimes
comes across the expression “Shotokan Ryu,” but this term has
never been in widespread use among Shotokan karateka.2
Modern Shotokan practice is divided more or less equally

between the three elements of kihon (基本) (“fundamentals”), kata
( 型 ) and kumite ( 組手 ), though Funakoshi himself strongly
disapproved of jiyu kumite and the competitiveness that it
involves. The list of Shotokan kata now published by the Japan
Karate Association is as follows:
Heian # 1–5: with minor differences, these are the same as the
five Pinan kata devised by Itosu Anko. The pronunciation/
reading of 平安 as “heian” was adopted by Funakoshi.
Bassai dai and sho.
Jion.
Empi ( 燕飛 ): Funakoshi’s name for the Tomari te kata
originally called Wansu or Wanshu ((腕秀 or 汪輯).
Kanku dai and sho: Kanku is Funakoshi’s name for Kushanku.
Hangetsu (半月): Funakoshi’s name for Seisan; hangetsu is

“half moon”: the kata is named after the crescent-shaped step
with which it begins.
Jutte.
Gankaku (岩鶴): a modified and re-named form of Matsumura
Sokon’s kata called Chinto.
1 Shoto (松濤, “Waving Pines”) was the pen name with which Funa-
koshi signed his poems and calligraphies.
2 Kase Taiji (加瀬泰治) (1929–2004), who taught in France during the
1970s and 1980s, founded a school called Shotokan Ryu Kase Ha (松
濤館流加瀬派).
Tekki # 1–3: Funakoshi’s name for Naihanchi. The shodan,

nidan and sandan forms of it that are now practised are
apparently the sections into which Itosu Anko divided the long
Naihanchi kata taught by Matsumura.
Nijushiho.
Chinte.
Sochin: this kata was introduced into the Shotokan syllabus in
a modified form by Funakoshi Yoshitaka.
Meikyo (明鏡): an amalgamated and re-named version of the
three Okinawan kata called Rohai.
Unsu.
Wankan.
Gojushiho sho and dai.
Ji'in.
(Until about 1970 the kata now usually called Gojushiho sho
was called Gojushiho dai, and vice versa. The legend is that a
senior karateka announced at the All-Japan Karate Champ-
ionships that he was about to perform Gojushiho dai but in a fit
of absent-mindedness performed Gojushiho sho instead – and
nobody liked to say anything. We do not know whether this
story is true or not. As Winston Churchill used to say, if it isn’t,
it ought to be.)
Funakoshi Yoshitaka also composed six beginners’ kata called
Taikyoku; but, of these, all but the first, Taikyoku shodan, seem
to have disappeared. Taikyoku shodan itself is not practised in
many Shotokan dojo (see below).
Despite Funakoshi’s declared commitment to the unification of

schools or styles, Shotokan karate is best viewed as a modified –
in some respects a highly modified – version of Shuri/Tomari te. It
will be noticed that the list of Shotokan kata given above includes
none of the Naha te kata that are found in Goju Ryu and Shito
Ryu. 1 Funakoshi considered that, like Mabuni Kenwa, he had

brought together the best elements of the Shuri te and Naha te
traditions, but it is difficult to see what basis this supposition has,
at least with respect to kata practice.

Funakoshi Gichin died (of cancer) on 26 April 1957 at the age of
eighty-eight. Predictably enough, internecine strife began at once.
During his lifetime, Funakoshi had founded, or been instrumental
in founding, two Shotokan organisations: the Dai Nihon Karate-do
Kenkyukai (大日本空手道研究会) (All Japan Karate-do Research
Association) in 1930 and the Nihon Karate Kyokai (日本空手協会)
(Japan Karate Association, usually called the JKA) in 1949. When
Funakoshi died, his eldest son Giei let it be known that he wanted
his father’s funeral to be organised by the older of the two assoc-
iations, with which Funakoshi had been more closely associated (in
1936 it had changed its name to the Dai Nihon Karate-do Shotokai).
The Japan Karate Association – then consisting largely of the
university clubs of Keio, Takushoku and Hosei – replied that if they
were not allowed to be in charge of the funeral arrangements, they
would not come to the funeral. Though this squabble seems rather
childish to westerners – anyone who has ever buried a relative has
probably seen the same kind of bickering on a smaller scale – to
disregard the wishes of the deceased’s son was from a Japanese
point of view a very grave discourtesy. Also, there were already
tensions between the two associations over technical and other
matters. The Japan Karate Association had declined to recognise,
and did not practise, the Taikyokyu kata introduced by Funakoshi
Gigo, and had adopted the practice of jiyu kumite, which
1 The Shotokan Hangetsu kata is distantly related to the Naha te kata

Seisan or Seishan, but is very different from it. This kata in fact exists
in several ryu in a number of different forms, all of which clearly
have a common origin from which they have diverged more or less
widely. It is not easy to account for the degree of divergence that
these different forms exhibit.
Funakoshi had explicitly prohibited. There were also more general

misgivings within the older – Shotokai – organisation over the
direction in which the Japan Karate Association was moving under
the “modernising” leadership of Nakayama Masatoshi (中山正敏)
(1913–1987). These objections were undoubtedly sincere and, from
a certain conservative point of view, well founded: more traditional
karateka, then as now, were opposed to the JKA’s increasingly
sporting, tournament-oriented conception of karate. Nonetheless it
seems clear that the difficulties following Funakoshi Gichin’s death
were compounded by the problem that seems inevitably to arise
when a leader dies: too many people wanting to stand on the top of
the mountain. One cannot avoid the suspicion that the row over
Funakoshi’s funeral was made the occasion for a rift that was well
on the way to happening anyway.
Funakoshi Yoshihide (Giei),

Funakoshi Gichin’s eldest son
In the event, the two organisations went their separate ways,

the Japan Karate Association under Nakayama and the older and
more traditionalist Shotokai association under the leadership of
Funakoshi Yoshihide, succeeded almost immediately by Egami
Shigeru (江上茂) (1912–1981). Subsequently the Japan Karate
Association split into at least eight splinter groups, which have in

turn given rise to a plethora of smaller groups teaching, or claiming
Nakayama Masatoshi Egami Shigeru
to teach, Funakoshi’s authentic karate. Egami Shigeru’s group, led

after his death first by Hironishi Motonobu (広西元信) (1913–1999)
and then by Takagi Jotaro (高木丈太郎,) (b. 1927), continues to
insist that it is carrying out Funakoshi’s true intentions. A largely
separate organisation called Karate-do Shotokai was founded in
Europe in 1965 by Harada Mitsusuke (原田満祐) (b. 1928), who
also claims to be perpetuating the true spirit of the Master despite
the fact that his karate looks very little like anything Funakoshi
ever taught or commended. It is ironic that the “style” of a
founder so committed to the goal of unity should have fractured
into so many competing groups.
Wado Ryu (和道流)

Wado Ryu is one of the only two major karate schools to have
originated wholly in Japan (Kyokushinkai is the other). Its
founder, Ohtsuka Hironori (大塚博紀) (1892–1982), was born in
Shimodate City, Ibaraki Prefecture, the son of a medical
practitioner, and as far as we know spent the whole of his life in

Japan. Like Funakoshi Gichin, Ohtsuka was not a flamboyant
character. His studies at Waseda university were interrupted by the
early death of his father and he was obliged to take a humdrum job
as a clerk at the Kawasaki Bank in Shimodate. The record contains
no colourful legends about his technical prowess. After some elem-
entary training in childhood with his father and a great-uncle, at
the age of thirteen he became a student of Shindo Yoshin Ryu ju
jutsu (神道揚心流柔術) under Nakayama Shinzaburo (仲山伸三郎)
(1870-1933); he was awarded his menkyo kaiden by Nakayama in
1921. Then, in 1922, he met Funakoshi Gichin, newly arrived in
Japan – he seems to have attended Funakoshi’s Tokyo display of
that year – and immediately began to study karate under him.
Ohtsuka Hironori
Because Shindo Ryu contains kicking and striking as well as
grappling techniques Ohtsuka found himself on familiar ground.
Soon he became proficient in the fifteen kata that Funakoshi was
then teaching. By 1928 he was an assistant instructor in
Funakoshi’s Meishojuko dojo. Thanks to the experience that he
had acquired in the Kawasaki Bank he seems also to have served

as a sort of unofficial dojo treasurer.
At some time in the early 1930s Ohtsuka and Funakoshi
parted company. Ohtsuka had come to feel that kumite must be
an integral part of “realistic” karate training, whereas Funakoshi
was vehemently opposed to any kind of sparring or competitive
engagement between karateka. Funakoshi’s view was that karate
is primarily a matter of self-mastery and that the desire to defeat
others in needless combat is at odds with the true goal of
defeating one’s own ego. The formidable Motobu Choki, on the
other hand, enjoyed fighting, favoured kumite and had already
developed his series of prearranged sparring drills called
yakusoku kumite (約束組手). In the late 1920s Ohtsuka had begun
to study with Motobu and also with Mabuni Kenwa, and
Funakoshi (who is said to have disliked the rather rough and
ready Motobu, seemingly on purely snobbish grounds) apparently
resented this. It has been suggested also that Funakoshi’s son Giei
Motobu Choki
had accused Ohtsuka of misappropriating dojo funds. This accu-
sation may or may not have been justified (there is also a sug-
gestion, on the other side, that Funakoshi Giei borrowed money
from Ohtsuka to pay off his gambling debts and did not repay it),
but at all events Ohtsuka decided to go his own way and develop
his ideas into a new school. From this point onwards one has a
distinct impression of ill feeling between Ohtsuka and the
Funakoshi family.
On 1 April, 1934 Ohtsuka opened his school, the Dai Nippon
Karate Shinko Kai (大日本空手振興会) (All Japan Karate Promotion
Association), in Tokyo. The curriculum that he adopted was, in
effect, a fusion of Shotokan karate with Shindo Yoshin Ryu ju jutsu.
Ohtsuka had studied several other arts more or less cursorily, but
most of the technical differences between Shotokan and Wado Ryu
are explicable in terms of the modifying influence of Shindo Yoshin
Ryu. These influences are subtle, but they are clear enough to the
attentive eye (though they tend to be neglected in some modern
Wado Ryu dojo). Also, Wado Ryu emphasised kumite from the
first, ranging from paired sparring drills similar to the ones already
devised by Motobu 1 to spontaneous jiyu kumite. Ohtsuka was
active in promoting karate competitions – another point of
departure from the outlook of Funakoshi – especially during the
period of reconstruction after World War II, when it became
politically expedient to represent the martial arts as sports or
games. The name Wado Ryu (“Harmony Way School”) came into
being in 1938 when the school was registered with the Dai Nippon
Butoku Kai under the more elaborate name Shinshu2 Wado Ryu
Karate Ju Jutsu (神州和道流空手柔術).
Ohtsuka incorporated nine traditional kata into Wado Ryu. The

changes introduced into the Shotokan kata by Funakoshi Gichin
and Funakoshi Yoshitaka are absent from the Wado Ryu versions,
mainly because most of them (especially the changes to kicking
techniques) were introduced after Ohtsuka’s separation from
Funakoshi, but perhaps with a degree of implied criticism also. 3
1 These paired exercises are still practised, though nowadays they vary
a good deal from school to school.
2 Shinshu (神州) is “Land of the Gods,” i.e. Japan.
3 See Ohtsuka Hironori, Wado Ryu Karate (English translation; Rising
Sun Productions, 1997), p. 72.
Pinan # 1–5: these are in most respects the same as Funakoshi’s

Heian kata, though Ohtsuka reverted to the earlier pro-
nunciation of the name. Also, in Wado Ryu schools the
numbering of the first two kata is reversed, as a reinstatement
of Itosu Anko’s original order: Pinan shodan is Heian nidan
and Pinan nidan is Heian shodan.
Kushanku: again, Ohtsuka returned to the earlier name of the
kata that Funakoshi had called Kanku dai.
Naihanchi: the Wado Naihanchi kata is broadly the same as the
Shotokan Tekki Shodan; Wado Ryu has no nidan or sandan
forms of Naihanchi.
Chinto: called Gankaku by Funakoshi Gichin.
Seishan or Seisan: once more, Ohtsuka reverted to the earlier
name of this kata, which Funakoshi had changed to Hangetsu.
Some Wado Ryu schools also practise some or all of the
following: Passai, Rohai, Niseishi (Nijushiho), Wanshu, Jion,
Jutte and Suparinpai (rarely), and a kihon (fundamental) kata
that closely resembles Funakoshi Yoshitaka’s Taikyoku shodan.

Wado Ryu is now represented by three main organisations
(though there are many smaller independent ones). In 1967 the
name of Ohtsuka’s original foundation, Dai Nippon Karate
Shinko Kai, was changed to Zen Nihon Karate-do Renmei
Wadokai ( 全日本空手道連盟和道会 ) (In English speaking
countries this organisation is called the “Japan Karate-do
Federation Wadokai”). Ohtsuka remained as its head until 1981,
when he stepped down amid new accusations of financial
impropriety and was replaced by Eriguchi Eiichi (d. 2004; its
current president is Yoshito Kondo). On 1 April 1981 Ohtsuka –
now in his eighty-ninth year – founded another organisation
called Wado Ryu Karate-do Renmei (和道流空手道連盟), which
he handed over to his son Jiro (b. 1934) shortly before his death
on 29 January 1982. Ohtsuka Jiro then took the name Ohtsuka

Hironori II in honour of his father. In 1989, Suzuki Tatsuo (鈴木
達夫 ) (1928–2011), disenchanted with the leadership of Ohtsuka
Jiro, founded a third organisation called Wado Kokusai (和道国
際) (“Wado International,” usually called the Wado International
Karate-do Federation). Since Suzuki Tatsuo’s death on 12 July,
2011 this organisation appears to be headed by an English
Karateka called Jon Wicks; Suzuki’s widow Eleni, herself a
rokudan (sixth dan), is associated with the organisation in an
executive capacity.
Suzuki Tatsuo
Two Smaller Schools

Isshin Ryu (一心流)
Isshin Ryu is an Okinawan school1 that, in migrating to the West,
has achieved much more widespread acceptance in the USA than it
1 Not to be confused with the Kyokushinkai offshoot called Ishin Ryu,

a “sport” karate organisation founded in the UK in 1973 by the
English karateka David Donovan.
has in Europe. Its founder, Shimabuku Tatsuo (島袋龍夫) (1908–

1975), was born in Kyan village near Shuri.1 After picking up some
rudimentary knowledge from an uncle, Ganiku Shinko, he began in
about 1931 to study the Matsumura version of Shorin Ryu with
Matsumura Sokon’s student Kyan Chotoku. From Kyan he learnt
Seisan, Naihanchi, Wansu, Chinto and Kushanku kata. Under his
supervision he also learnt the bo kata called Tokumine no Kun and
acquired some proficiency in the use of the sai (see below). He
remained with Kyan, whom he regarded as his principal teacher,
until 1936. From 1936 to 1938 he studied with Miyagi Chojun, who
taught him Seiunchin and Sanchin kata, and, during 1939, with
Motobu Choki. These eclectic studies were interrupted by World
War II, though it is said that Shimabuku resumed his studies with
Miyagi after the war and continued with them until Miyagi’s death
in 1953.
Shimabuku Tatsuo
1 His “given name” was Shinkichi; he adopted the name Tatsuo (龍夫,
“Dragon Man”) after the launch of Isshin Ryu. “Shimabuku” is
pronounced “Shimabukuru” in Japan; both romanisations of the
name are common.
Isshin Ryu has a well-known foundation myth. Shimabuku

opened his first dojo in 1946, in the village of Konbu, near Tengan
on the east coast of Okinawa. It was at this point that the idea began
to take shape in his mind, as it had earlier in Mabuni Kenwa’s, of
bringing together the best elements of Okinawan karate – of what
Isshin Ryu no Megami

had by now become Shorin Ryu and Goju Ryu – into a single
system; but for a long while Shimabuku lacked the confidence to
put this idea into practice. At some point during 1955 he had a
vivid dream in which there appeared to him a goddess, half
woman and half dragon, who assured him that he now had the
ability and knowledge to found a new karate school, and told him
that he should create it in her image: half gentle, half fierce. This
goddess he later called Isshin Ryu no Megami (一心流の女神)
(Isshin Ryu’s goddess); some Isshin Ryu practitioners call her
Mizu Gami (水神, “water goddess”), though this is apparently
incorrect. A picture of Isshin Ryu no Megami against the dream-
background that Shimabuku described is now used as the badge
of Isshin Ryu. (The version of Isshin Ryu no Megami illustrated
above was designed by Shimabuku’s student Arsenio Advincula
(b. 1938). The overall shape of the badge represents the vertical fist
(縦拳, tate ken) which is a “trademark” technique of Isshin Ryu.)
Whether directly inspired by this dream or not, the style now
called Isshin Ryu came formally into existence on 15 January,
1956. (Before that date Shimabuku had at different times called his
synthesis Chanmigua te (チャンミーグヮー手) and Sunsu (スンス
ウ).1 “Isshin Ryu” is “One Heart School” or “One Mind School”:
something of an irony in view of the fragmentation that the school
was to suffer after the founder’s death.
Initially the Isshin Ryu syllabus consisted of the following kata:
Seisan: Shimabuku’s version of this kata differs from the Goju
Ryu version; he learnt it from Kyan, not Miyagi.
Seiunchin.
Naihanchi: Shimabuku seems to have studied this kata with
both Kyan Chotoku and Motobu Choki. Isshin Ryu’s
Naihanchi is a version of what is elsewhere called
Naihanchi/Tekki shodan; there is no nidan or sandan in Isshin
Ryu. The Isshin Ryu version is unusual (though not unique) in
that it begins by moving to the left rather than the right.
Wansu: the adaptation of this Tomari te kata taught in Isshin
Ryu schools, with its two side kicks, was devised by Tatsuo
Shimabuku himself.
Chinto.
Kushanku.
Sunsu (スンスウ): this long and complex kata was composed
by Shimabuku during the 1950s; it brings together elements
from the earlier Isshin Ryu kata as well as incorporating
1 “Chanmigua” apparently means “Cross-eyed Kyan” in the Okinawan

language; the word was a childhood nickname of Kyan Chotoku,
who was very short-sighted. Evidently the nickname is not as rude as
it sounds in English. “Sunsu” is said to mean either “Old Man’s Son”
or “Strong Man.”
techniques extracted from kata that are not taught in the Isshin
Ryu system as such.
Sanchin: Isshin Ryu favours the shorter (Miyagi) version of
Sanchin. Shimabuko regarded the practice of Sanchin as
essential to health. Unfortunately, on 30 May, 1975 he suffered
a fatal stroke shortly after performing it in his dojo.1
The Isshin Ryu system is unusual among the better known

karate schools in that it includes the study of three weapons
traditionally associated with the Okinawan art of kobudo: bo (棒)
(staff), sai (釵) (three-pronged fork) and tonfa (トンファー) (rice
quern handles). In this sense, though the word 空手 has been
retained, Isshin Ryu karate is not an “empty handed” system. As
we have noted, Shimabuku had studied kobudo to some extent
before World War II, but he did not begin to address the discipline
seriously until the late 1950s, with the kobudo master Taira
Shinken ( 平信賢 ) (1897–1970). Thereafter he introduced the
following kobudo kata into his syllabus.
Bo kata:
Tokumine no Kun (徳嶺の棍) (this is the kata that Shimabuku
had learnt from Kyan Chotoku).
Urashi no Kun (浦添の棍).
Shishi no Kun (添石の棍) (these two he learnt from Taira
Shinken).
Sai kata:
Kushanku Sai (公相君サイ) (a kata devised by Shimabuku
himself).
1 Shimabuku’s death may be cited as at least anecdotal evidence

supporting the view that the closed-throat breathing introduced into
the practice of Sanchin kata in the early twentieth century, probably
by Miyagi Chojun or Kyoda Juhatsu, is harmful and potentially
dangerous in terms of its cardiovascular effects.
Chatan Yara no Sai ( 北谷屋良の釵 ) (learnt from Taira

Shinken).
Kyan no Sai (喜屋武の釵) (either learnt from Kyan Chotoku
or devised by Shimabuku and named in his honour;
Shimabuku later discarded this kata in favour of Kushanku
Sai).
Tonfa Kata:
Hama Higa no Tuifa ( 浜比嘉のトゥイファー); Isshin Ryu’s
only tonfa kata. It appears to be closely related to the Uechi
Ryu version of Seisan kata. Shimabuku preferred the
Okinawan pronunciation “tuifa,” though there seems to be
some doubt as to whether he intended this kata to be a
permanent part of his syllabus.1

One’s impression is that Shimabuku Tatsuo is the least highly
regarded of the founders of recognised “styles.” He and his school
have come in for a good deal of criticism over the years. Many of
his students disliked the innovations that he started to introduce
after World War II, and went elsewhere. He tended to change his
mind about what should and should not be in the syllabus, and
does not seem to have had the personal presence that enabled
other innovators to carry their students with them. Shimabuku’s
technical competence also has not escaped criticism. The kata that
he recorded on film when he visited the USA in 1966 look weak
and sloppy, and the reasons often given for this – that he did not
want to be filmed; that he was drunk at the time – are not
reassuring.2 It is said too that he never performed a kata in the
1 Kobudo kata tend to be named after the individual who devised them
or after the place with which they are particularly associated. All the
Isshin Ryu kobudo kata seem to have been modified extensively by
Shimabuku.
2 It may in fairness be pointed out that there exists also footage of
Yamaguchi Gogen making rather a hash of Suparinpai kata; a degree of
same way twice (though this is not necessarily a criticism). We do

not know whether these adverse judgments are justified, but they
tend to be repeated as part of the pattern of reputational damage
that Isshin Ryu has suffered during the past thirty years and
more, partly as a result of the chronic infighting that has
accompanied its spread.
Isshin Ryu transplanted very readily to the USA, largely
because, in 1955, Shimabuku was invited to become the karate
instructor of the Third Division of the United States Marine Corps
stationed on Okinawa Island. He was offered a salary of US$250
per month and, having been reduced to poverty by the war, this
was an offer he was happy enough to accept. He opened a dojo
near the American military bases at Agena in Gushikawa City,
and quite a number of the soldiers who trained with him opened
dojo of their own when they returned to the USA. The channel
through which Isshin Ryu made its way to the West was thus
very largely formed by the American military. The Okinawan-
American Karate Association was formed with Shimabuku’s
blessing in 1960; in 1961 its name was changed to the American-
Okinawan Karate Association (AOKA).
Notable among Shimabuku’s American students were Steve
Armstrong (1931–2006), James Chapman (1938–1971), Don Nagle
(1938–1999), Harold Long (1930–1998), Harold Mitchell (b. 1933)
and Arsenio Advincula. Unfortunately, there have been endless
squabbles among some of these people about who learnt what
from the Master, who is and who is not teaching “true” Isshin
Ryu, and so forth. Part of the problem, one suspects, is that
Shimabuku’s American students, a number of whom returned to
the United States with high dan grades after only a short period of
study that can hardly have been intensive, learnt different parts of
his system and with different degrees of depth or emphasis. They
had also the disadvantage of studying with a teacher with whom
camera shyness is a problem that ought to be taken into consideration

when viewing the often unimpressive filmed performances of the older
teachers.
they had no language in common: it is hardly surprising that

misunderstandings should have arisen.1 There are now at least a
dozen Isshin Ryu organisations in the United States, each under
separate leadership. As is so often true, the unity of the art has
been compromised by the rivalries and antagonisms of those who
have accepted responsibility for organising it.
Shortly before he died, Shimabuku nominated his senior stu-
dent Kaneshi Eiko (b. 1914) as his successor. His son Shimabuku
Kichiro was very much offended by this and insisted that his
father preserve the Okinawan Pechin tradition of transmission to
the oldest son. Rightly or wrongly, his father capitulated and the
headship of Isshin Ryu passed to Kichiro at his father’s death; but
the effect of this was to divide Isshin Ryu into two camps. Large
numbers of Isshin Ryu karateka declined to accept Shimabuku
Kichiro as the head of the school and withdrew from it altogether.
In 1987, after many bitter quarrels in the course of which Isshin
Ryu almost died out completely, Shimabuku Tatsuo’s son-in-law
Uezu Angi (b. 1935) formed the Okinawa Isshin Ryu Karate
Kobudo Association, of which he was the head until his
retirement in 1996, when he was succeeded by Uechi Tsuyoshi (b.
1951). The rise to prominence of Uezu in turn displeased
Shimabuku’s former US Marine students, at least three of whom
were more highly ranked in the system than Uezu (Uezu did not
begin to study karate until after he married Shimabuku Tatsuo’s
daughter Yukiko in 1957). Shimabuku Kichiro continues to lead
the Isshin Ryu World Karate Association, which he had founded
in 1974 with his father’s blessing, though he does not seem at all
highly regarded in the wider Isshin Ryu community. 2 In 2007,
1 Squabbles tend also to arise out of nothing more than clashes of ego.
Generally speaking, senior karateka find it hard to accept that there
can be valid viewpoints other than their own We do not know why
this should be so, but experience strongly suggests that it is.
2 When researching his Okinawan Karate, Mark Bishop took an instant
dislike to him. In his section on Isshin Ryu he says: “Kichiro
Shimabuku, being short, plump and bald with an effeminate squeaky
voice, is not what most people imagine a karate teacher to be like.”
after a dispute within the Okinawa Isshin Ryu Karate Kobudo

Association, yet another organisation, the Isshin Ryu Okinawa
Traditional Karate Association, was set up by Uechi Tsuyoshi,
who at the time of writing is trying to have himself recognised by
the Okinawan Prefecture Karate Rengokai as the official head of
Isshin Ryu. None of the twentieth century karate styles has been
exempt from succession crises after, or shortly after, the deaths of
the founder, but Isshin Ryu seems to have suffered more damage
than any other. According to some recent sources the actual
survival of Isshin Ryu in Okinawa is now in doubt.
Uechi Ryu (上地流)

Uechi Ryu is now well established as a style, though its practice is
not as widespread as that of the larger karate schools, and it seems
to be better established in the United States than in Europe. It
stands somewhat apart from the larger schools in that its founder
appears not to have studied in depth with any of the well known
Okinawan or Japanese masters. Uechi Kanbun (上地完文) (1877–
1948) was born in or near the farming village of Takinto on
the Motobu peninsula in northern Okinawa – well away from the
Shuri/Naha/Tomari nucleus. In 1897, apparently to evade Japanese
military conscription, he and a friend called Matsuda Tokusaburo
migrated to China and settled in Fuchou City, Fujian province.
During his time in China Uechi studied a Southern Chinese art
called Pangai noon (or Pan-gai-nun)1 with a teacher called Zhou
Zihe (pronounced Shu Shiwa in Japanese) (1869–1945). Pan-gai-nun
is 半硬軟 (han ko nan) in Japanese: i.e. “half hard, half soft,” or
“half way between hard and soft.” The name is similar in import to
the “Hanko Ryu” considered as a possible school name by Shinzato
Jinan and Mabuni Kenwa. Zhou Zihe awarded him a licence to
1 Pan-gai-nun is now generally regarded as being extinct, but in 1978 a

group of Uechi Ryu students led by Seiki Itokazu and Takashi Kinjo
left the ryu and began to try to reconstruct Pan-gai-nun from the kata
taught by Uechi Kanbun. This Uechi Ryu offshoot seems also be
known as Konan Ryu and Kobu Ryu.
teach in 1904, and he remained in China until 1909, teaching in

Nansoe, a town about 250 miles to the south of Fuchou. It is said
that he abandoned teaching and returned to Okinawa – either out
of shame or to escape legal consequences – after one of his students
killed a man in a fight over land irrigation.
Zhou Zhihe (Shu Shiwa), Uechi Kanbun’s teacher

In 1926, after some years of unsuccessful farming on Okinawa,
Uechi relocated to Wakayama City in the Kansai region of Japan,
where he found work in a textile mill. It was at this point that he
resumed teaching, using the living quarters of the mill as his dojo
(this first dojo was called Shataku (社宅), “Company House”). It
is said that he began to teach again after he was asked to share
his skills with members of the local Okinawan community who
were being victimised by Japanese gangs. Another (though not
incompatible) version is that he was persuaded to resume
teaching by a fellow worker called Tomoyose Ryuyu (d. 1970),
who became his first student in Japan (there are several stories
about how Tomoyose Ryuyu persuaded a reluctant Uechi to
teach him). In 1932, having by now acquired a fairly large
number of students, Uechi founded the Pan-gai-nun Karate-jutsu
Kenkyu-jo (半硬軟空手術研究所) (Pan-gai-nun Karate Method
Research Association) in the Tebira district of Wakayama. In
1940 this was re-named the Uechi-ryu Karate-jutsu Kenkyu-jo.

This re-naming was apparently an initiative of Uechi’s students,
however; it is said that Uechi himself always used the name Pan-
gai-nun and had no intention of founding a new “style.”
Uechi Kanbun
In 1945 Uechi retired from teaching and returned to his family
on Okinawa, leaving the Wakayama dojo in the hands of
Tomoyose Ryuyu. In the squalid living conditions of post-war
Okinawa Uechi contracted a kidney infection and died at the age
of 71. (There is a story that, having been told by a fortune teller
that he would live to be 88, Uechi did not bother to seek medical
advice and fell down dead while performing Sanchin kata.) On his
death he was succeeded as head of what was by now called Uechi
Ryu by his son Uechi Kanei (上地完英) (1911–1991), who had
studied with his father in Japan from the age of sixteen. One of the
most distinguished students of Uechi Kanei and Tomoyose Ryuyu
was an American serviceman called George Mattson, who since
1958 has been almost single-handedly responsible for the
establishment of Uechi Ryu in the USA.
Uechi Kanbun’s original Pan-gai-nun/Uechi Ryu had only three

kata: Sanchin, Seisan and Sanseiryu. Uechi did not, as far as we
can tell, supplement what he had learnt in China with anything
else; apparently he was resolved as a matter of principle not to
add to or change the system that he had learnt from Zhou Zihe.
Uechi Ryu is usually classified as a Naha te school, but this
classification is not entirely apt; Uechi seems to have had no direct
contact, or at any rate very little contact, with Naha or Naha te
teachers. One’s impression is that the Uechi Ryu kata, having
come directly from China without Okinawan mediation, stand
much closer to their Chinese originals than the Goju kata do and
are a good deal more elaborate than their Goju namesakes.
Demonstrations of Uechi Ryu have a much more pronounced
Chinese “flavour” than demonstrations of other schools. Uechi
Ryu explicitly perpetuates the Chinese quanfa tradition of
mimicking the behaviour of real or imaginary animals; its
techniques are said to be inspired by the actions of the tiger, the
dragon and the crane.
Uechi Kanei
Uechi Ryu in its present form is effectively the creation of

Uechi Kanei, who added five kata to the original three taught by
his father. These kata, unique to Uechi Ryu, are all new and in a
certain sense “untraditional,” though they are all derived from or
inspired by the style’s foundational Seisan and Sanseiryu kata.
The current Uechi Ryu kata list, in the order in which the kata are
usually taught, is as follows:
Sanchin: the Uechi version of Sanchin kata is performed with

the hands open and without the muscular tension and
restricted breathing associated with Goju’s Sanchin. It is much
closer in style and execution to the known Chinese versions of
Sanchin.
Kanshiwa (完子和) (also called Kanshabu): a beginners’ kata,
emphasising circular blocks; intended to introduce the student
to tiger-type techniques.
Kanshu ( 完周 ): a kata consisting principally of crane
techniques.
Seichin (十戦): a kata combining elements from Sanchin and
Seisan and using whip-like “dragon” techniques.
Seisan: this kata looks very little like the Goju Ryu kata of the
same name, though it is clearly related to it.
Seiryu (十六): another “dragon” kata.
Kanchin (完戦): Uechi Kanei intended this kata to be a kind of
introduction to Sanseiryu.
Sanseiryu: as with Seisan, this kata is “genealogically” related
to its Goju Ryu namesake, but looks very different from it.
For the most part, Uechi Ryu escaped the internecine warfare
suffered by other styles after their founder’s death, but only for a
generation. When Uechi Kanei retired in 1989, his son Kanmei
(1941–2015) replaced him at the head of what was by now called
the Uechi-Ryu Karate-Do Association. The inevitable quarrels and
personality clashes followed, and two new organisations emerged:
the Okinawa Karate-do Kyokai (Okikukai) (沖縄空手道協会), led
by Tomoyose Ryuyu’s son Tomoyose Ryuko (b. 1928); and the

Uechi Ryu Karate Kenkyukai (上地流空手研究会) led by Shinjo
Kiyohide. (The Okinawa Karate-do Kyokai has since developed a
slightly modified style of Uechi Ryu called Shohei Ryu (昭平流)).
At present, Uechi Ryu is represented worldwide by at least
thirteen organisations.

The early aspiration of karate teachers to a unification of the
schools into a single art was perhaps always unrealistic, and it
certainly became so with the dissemination of karate worldwide.
The “mainstream” karate schools have spread with varying
degrees of success throughout the world, though not without the
heavy costs to the art that we shall consider in due course, and
especially not without a great deal of political disruption. Their
success during the twentieth century is not, it should be said, so
much a sign of their technical superiority over less well-known
schools as a result of the energy and promotional skills that have
been devoted to their propagation. Chance has also played its
part. In turn, the comparatively rapid diffusion of karate has
produced a number of offspring and derivatives, and it is to some
description of these that we now turn.
3
OFFSPRING AND COUSINS
T
HAT VARIOUS OFFSPRING or cousins of traditional karate
should have come into being is natural and perhaps
inevitable, as is the fact that the oriental martial arts have
to a great extent adapted themselves to the values and customs of
the western world. However much the traditionalist may deplore
them, these developments are not difficult to explain. The teachers
who set themselves the goal of carrying karate from Okinawa to
mainland Japan could not have foreseen what a complex sequence
of cause and effect they were initiating, or how far those causes
and effects would extend. In this chapter, we shall look at a few
aspects of the diversity produced by what one might call the
postmodern history of karate. We have to repeat our initial caveat,
however: this is a short history, and the picture given here is much
less complex than the reality.
American Kempo/Kenpo
Though it is something of a broad church, American kempo/ kenpo
has in recent decades come to be regarded as a martial art in its
own right (it has, in fact, now spread well beyond the USA). It is a
phenomenon with a problematical history. Modern kempo/kenpo
is clearly related to the traditional karate of Okinawa and Japan in
some degree, but in ways and by routes that are not easy to identify
and describe. Whatever relation there is now between it and its

oriental ancestry is certainly tenuous. The word kempo/kenpo (拳
法) is the Japanese rendering of the Chinese word quanfa (see p. 5,
n., above). It would be more natural, in terms of how the Japanese
word is pronounced, to romanise it as kempo, but most American
kenpo practitioners now prefer the “n” spelling – partly, at least, as
a badge of difference. For the same reason, they tend to prefer black
karate gi to the white ones more usually worn by traditional
karateka.
American kenpo has three discernible roots, all of them
associated with the island of Hawaii. As far as one can tell it began
with an individual called Mitose Masayoshi (1916–1981) – always
known as James Mitose – who was born to poverty-stricken
Japanese migrants on a coffee plantation at Kailua-Kona in the rural
North Kona district of Hawaii. Calling himself “Professor,” Mitose
James Mitose’s first advertisement,

in the Honolulu Advertiser, 1942
began to teach what he called kempo jiu-jitsu in Honolulu in 1942,

opening a dojo advertised as “The Official Self Defense Club” in
that year (though the sense in which his club was “official” is not
clear). His teaching career was not extensive, and what he taught
seems to have been a straightforward fighting or self-defence
method rather than an “art,” though towards the end of his life he
was at pains to graft an altruistic quasi-religious ethic onto it. On
Hawaii he promoted only a handful of students to black-belt rank:
Thomas Young, Nakamura Jiro, Arthur Keawe, Edward Lowe and
Paul Yamaguchi. In 1954 he left Hawaii for California, where he
spent the remainder of his life, leaving his school in Honolulu in the
hands of Thomas Young. On settling in the United States Mitose
appears to have taught only a few private students; some sources
say that he taught only one, and only for a short period. His reason
for leaving Hawaii is not known, but some of his later disciples tell
us that he became disillusioned with the attitude of his students
there, who wished only to learn how to fight without penetrating
into the deeper aspects of his art. The difficulty with this story is
that Mitose does not seem to have thought of his art as having any
deeper aspects until much later in his life.
James Mitose
During his lifetime, Mitose published two books in which the

outlines of his art and its accompanying “philosophy” are set out:
What is Self Defense? Kenpo Jiujutsu (1953) and What is True Self
Defense? (1981). The second book – written and published with the
assistance of a friend called Arnold Golub – was the first in a

projected multi-volume series, but Mitose died before any further
volumes could be completed. It is in this second book that we find a
late attempt to reconstruct or rebrand his kenpo as an ethical or
“spiritual” art. Mitose himself was, at best, semi-literate. His second
book was obviously ghost written, and it is impossible to assess the
extent of his actual contribution to it; but neither of the two is
particularly impressive.
Researches since his death have produced some disturbing facts

and allegations about James Mitose’s life and character.
1. He claimed to have been sent to Japan by his parents at the age
of four and to have lived between 1920 and 1937 in the Rinzai Zen
Shaka-in temple in Kumamoto on the island of Kyushu. There,
according to his own account, he studied philosophy, religion and
an ancient and secret Japanese martial art called Kosho Ryu
Kempo, becoming its twenty-first Grand Master (at the age of
twenty-one). There is documentary evidence that Mitose was in
Japan between 1920 and 1937, but the authorities of the Shaka-in
temple deny that he ever lived or studied a martial art there, and
Mitose’s descriptions of his life during his early years do not
correspond at all closely with the practices and routines normally
found in Japanese Buddhist monasteries.
2. There is no independent documentary record, at the Shaka-in

temple or anywhere else, of a Japanese martial art called Kosho
Ryu Kempo.
3. What Mitose taught after his return to Hawaii in any case looks
much more like Okinawan karate than a Japanese art (in respect,
for example, of the use of the makiwara and the kata Naihanchi).
Mitose claimed to be a nephew on his mother’s side of Motobu
Choki and to have studied karate with him in Japan; but the
Motobu family deny that he was related to them or that he ever
studied with Motobu Choki or received rank from him. There is
some reason to believe that he met Motobu at some point and may
have learnt Naihanchi kata and some other things from him, but
that seems to be the extent of the connection.
4. Much of the content of the first of Mitose’s two books was

clearly plagiarised from three earlier publications: Mutsu Mizhuo’s
Karate Kenpo (1933), Motobu Choki’s Watashi No Karate Jutsu (1932)
and Henry Seishiro Okazaki’s The Science of Self Defense for Girls
and Women (1929). 1 Mitose’s What is Self Defense? Kenpo Jiujutsu
does not give the impression that the author is introducing us to
an esoteric family art, or an art with a “spiritual” or “philos-
ophical” dimension.
5. Mitose and two associates were arrested by the FBI in 1941 and
charged with fraud and conspiracy to impersonate an army
intelligence officer: this was in connection with an alleged scheme
to blackmail Hawaiian-Japanese businessmen who had been
tricked into signing a document appearing to show that they were
willing to help Japanese spies.
James Mitose in later life
1 Some of his students have suggested that his borrowings from

Motobu Choki are not in fact plagiarism, but a silent acknow-
ledgment of Motobu as his teacher.
6. Mitose habitually wore clerical dress and claimed (falsely) to be

an ordained Christian minister; he appears to have used this
persona as a way of extracting money from people for “char-
itable” purposes. In later life he also laid claim to spurious
doctorate degrees.
7. In 1974 he was convicted on charges of extortion and con-

spiracy to commit murder, having incited a student, Terry Lee, to
murder a Japanese man called Frank Namimatsu who owed him
money. For this offence he was sentenced to life imprisonment; he
died in Folsom Prison, California.
On the one hand, one cannot rule out the possibility that James
Mitose was to some extent traduced by enemies and rivals, as his
many posthumous advocates maintain. On the other, the facts
outlined above are beyond reasonable dispute. It is indisputable
also that his “religious” or “spiritual” phase did not begin until the
time of his murder trial. It is associated especially with his years in
prison, when he was perhaps hoping (and angling) for parole.
Before then, he seems to have lived more or less constantly on, and
sometimes beyond, the fringes of criminality. At the present time
there are those who insist that Mitose was an innocent man,
wrongly convicted as a result of conspiracies and misunder-
standings. Then again, there are those who believe that “Kosho Ryu
Kempo” and its supporting mythologies are fabrications confected
by an inveterate and not always ingenious swindler. On the
strength of the evidence as we have seen and understood it, we are
inclined to the latter view.1
Whatever the truth may be, what purports to be Mitose’s kempo is

now practised in some form under the auspices of three
associations:
1 Though of course one cannot – and we do not – rule out the

possibility that Mitose’s conversion in prison to a different way of life
was genuine.
1. Koga Ha Kosho Shorei Ryu Kempo, the head of which is Nimr

Hassan. Nimr Hassan is the Terry Lee who was convicted of
murder alongside Mitose in 1974. He took the name Nimr Hassan
at some time after his release from prison in 1977. He claims to
have learnt the whole of Mitose’s system in the early 1970s and to
have been given a menkyo kaiden by him. He is now known as
Grandmaster Nimr Hassan.
2. Sei Kosho Shorei Kai International, the head of which is Bruce

Juchnik. Bruce Juchnik is regarded by his supporters as the
twenty-second Grand Master of Kosho Ryu Kempo, claiming
(despite the rival claim of Nimr Hassan) to be the only person to
receive menkyo kaiden and inka shomei 1 certification from
Mitose. He studied with Mitose between 1977 and Mitose’s death;
but since Mitose was in prison at the time, the instruction that he
received can only have been verbal. Quite why “training” that
presumably consisted only of conversations during prison visits
should lead to Juchnik’s appointment as the inheritor and head of
Mitose’s system is not clear. After Mitose’s death Juchnik and
Mitose’s early student Thomas Young worked together until
Young’s death in 1995 to systematise and integrate Mitose’s
teaching as they understood it.
3. The International Kosho Ryu Kenpo Association, headed by

Thomas Barro Mitose, who also claims to be the twenty-second
Grand Master of Kosho Ryu. Thomas Mitose (b. 1940) is James
Mitose’s natural son; he took the name Mitose only after his father’s
death. He seems to have spent only two short periods in contact
with his father, the second of which was during the older Mitose’s
incarceration. Thomas Mitose was never issued with any
certification by his father, but insists that his father transmitted the
headship of Kosho Ryu to him verbally before his death and that he
is the rightful inheritor of it by virtue of his blood relation to the
founder.
1 Inka shomei (印可署名) = a signed certificate of transmission.

What is one to make of all this? On the face of it, there is a pattern of
fantasy and rationalisation in Mitose’s story (the mysterious trans-
mission of a secret art that no one has heard of after years of training
in a Buddhist temple) that will ring a bell in the mind of anyone who
has studied the subject of martial arts fraud. There are also the
familiar techniques of half-truth and misleading suggestion. Perhaps
James Mitose did spend much of his childhood in Japan; perhaps he
did meet and learn something from Motobu Choki:1 but these seem to
be, at most, only grains of truth around which a large pearl of false-
hood and ambiguity has grown, the growth of which has been
aided by the conflicting claims of those who tell us that they are his
chosen successors. Then again, perhaps one day definite proof will
turn up that will exonerate Mitose from the accusations and
suspicions that have attached to his name. No doubt one should try
as far possible to remain open and receptive to such proof, but, on
the whole, it is difficult to avoid the feeling that the Mitose story
has all the hallmarks of a common type of martial arts fraud.
The second root of kempo/kenpo is William Kwai Sun Chow

(1914–1987), who was the first kenpo/kempo teacher to have more
than a small handful of students. He is known also as William Ah
Sun Chow Hoon. Born in Honolulu, he claimed to have learnt his
family’s style of kung fu from his father, a Shaolin monk called
Sun Chow Hoon, before studying for some years with James
Mitose (though he received his black belt not from Mitose, but
from Mitose’s student Thomas Young). According to the orthodox
account of his style’s history he then united what he had learnt
from Mitose with his family art to form a new kind of kempo
called Chinese Kara-ho Kempo Karate, of which he eventually
declared himself to be a fifteenth dan. 2 Chow’s art was a no-
1 Some sources suggest that he also studied in Hawaii with an

Okinawan instructor named Naburu Tamanaha.
2 According to its contemporary exponents, Kara-ho Kempo means
“the unity of spirit, mind, soul and body, fist law.” It doesn’t, though.
“Kara-ho kempo karate” – 唐法拳法空手 – is, literally, “Chinese
method fist way empty hand”, i.e. “Chinese method of self-defence
nonsense fighting style, ferociously businesslike, with no frills and

no kata, though a number of his students subsequently composed
kata of their own.
William Kwai Sun Chow
All is not, however, as it seems. There is reason to think that

Chow had no systematic martial arts training before he met
Mitose, or at least not the training that he claimed to have had.
Much of his skill seems to have come from simple street fighting.
It is clearly established that his father was not a Shaolin monk
but an immigrant labourer from Shanghai who worked in a
laundry and fathered sixteen children (he was in jail at the time
of William’s birth). This is, of course, not to say that he could not
have taught his son a family style; but the “family style” itself
seems to have been a fantasy. There is a Southern Praying Mantis
school called Chow Gar, but neither William Chow nor his father
are included in its lineage. It would appear that the “family
style” story made its appearance in Chow’s curriculum vitae
with empty hands.” The word “Chinese” in the English version of the
name is redundant.
only after James Mitose’s veracity had begun to come under

suspicion. Both Mitose and Chow seem to have come from the
same kind of sub-literate, proletarian immigrant background and
to have invented interesting stories about themselves –
undoubtedly for commercial reasons but possibly also for
reasons that a psychologist would not find it hard to explain.
Chow began to teach his art in 1949 in various Hawaiian
locations; he never established a permanent dojo and seems to
have led a more or less itinerant life. The art was soon
transplanted to the USA by his students and there are now
Chinese Kara-ho Kempo Karate schools all over the United States.
These are franchised and overseen by a central organisation called
Professor Chow’s Chinese Kara-ho Kempo Karate, the current
head of which is Samuel Alama Kuoha (b. 1946). William Chow’s
“Professor” title, like James Mitose’s is, of course, self-awarded.
Chow’s senior student Ralph Castro went on to develop his
own style/school called Shaolin Kenpo Karate in the 1960s, and in
1981 founded an organisation called the International Shaolin
Kenpo Association (of which he is now the “Great Grandmaster”).
It is at about this point in American martial arts history that we
begin to come across the curious habit of mixing Chinese and
Japanese words in the names of “styles.” Partly this reflects an
intelligent wish to combine Chinese and Japanese elements into a
new kind of methodology; partly it seems to be a case of simple
ignorance. Another of William Chow’s students, Adriano Directo
Emperado (1926–2009) was one of five teachers who created a
style called Kajukenbo, a rigorous and reality-centred system
which is supposed to be a street fighting synthesis of karate, ju
jutsu, kenpo and western boxing. These are only two of the many
offshoots and splinters of Chow’s system.
Chow’s best known student, and the third of our kenpo “roots,”
was another Hawaiian, Edmund Kealoha Parker (1931–1990).
Initially a student of judo (he achieved the rank of shodan in
1949), he was introduced to William Chow by a friend at some
time in the 1940s and studied with him for more than a decade.
He was awarded a black belt by him in 1953. Thereafter he opened
what is said to be the first commercial karate school in the western
United States, in Provo, Utah, in 1954. Though he is sometimes said
to have been a student of James Mitose, he explicitly denied this in
volume 1 of his Infinite Insights into Kenpo (1982). There seem,
however, to be many inconsistencies in Parker’s accounts of his
early life and training. A good deal more skilled at self-promotion
than either Mitose or Chow, he seems sometimes to have had a
similar difficulty with the distinction between truth and fantasy.
Edmund Kealoha Parker

Edmund Parker – always known as Ed – did more than
anyone else to create a distinctively “American” kenpo and turn
it into a flourishing business. It is said, though we do not know
whether this is true or not, that the development of his kenpo
“business” was much helped by his connections with the
wealthy Mormon church. It was Parker, incidentally, who finally
adopted the “n” spelling of kenpo as normal. Having no
knowledge of Japanese (and, somewhat unusually among
occidental karate teachers, being honest enough to admit it) he

gave English names to all his techniques and sequences of
techniques. Also, kenpo as developed by him lost most of its
original “mean streets” image and began to look decidedly
respectable. He fully understood the value of courting celebrities
(most notably Elvis Presley) 1 and publicity; he had a brief career
of his own as a film actor. If Ed Parker is not quite the “father of
American Kenpo” he is certainly the father of American kenpo as
a commercial enterprise.
But he was also an inventive and diligent martial artist, a free-
thinker and a tireless innovator who left a comprehensive record
of his art behind him in the form of several detailed training
manuals.2 Kenpo in the form that it had acquired by the time of
his death is a very different creature from the hard, linear street
fighting style of William Chow. Especially after his relocation to
southern California in about 1956, when he came increasingly
into contact with Chinese martial artists, Parker changed and
revised his kenpo into a softer and more circular style, relying on
evasion, deflection and rapid multiple strikes. He also devised a
series of six forms – they are usually called forms, not kata – of
increasing complexity in which are encoded a range of self-
defence sequences intended to provide the practitioner with
hypothetical solutions to any imaginable pattern of attack. These
forms, especially the complex advanced ones, are difficult to
learn and the techniques contained in them are very difficult to
apply convincingly. On the whole one’s impression is that the
kenpo forms are intricate and flashy in appearance but rather
weak and lightweight in application. In this sense kenpo suffers
from the same observable weakness as Aikido does. Its
techniques have a superficial kind of impressiveness when
1 Elvis Presley was awarded a second degree black belt by Parker in

1963, a fourth degree at some time in the 1960s, a fifth in 1971, a sixth
in early 1973 and an honorary eighth in August 1974.
2 His five-volume series called Infinite Insights into Kenpo (Delsby
Publications) was published between 1982 and 1987.
demonstrated with a compliant training partner; how effective

they would be in deadly earnest is a moot point. No doubt
everything depends on the skill of the practitioner.
In 1963 or 1964 Parker founded the International Kenpo Karate
Association, which after his death disintegrated into a multitude
of smaller groups. He left behind a son, Edmund Parker Jnr. (b.
1959), who is active within the kenpo community, though he is
not regarded as his father’s successor and seems to have had no
wish to be. Had he not died suddenly and unexpectedly, Parker’s
own choice of successor would probably have been Larry Tatum
of Pasadena, California, who continues to teach the Parker system
and who has established his own commercial organisation called
Larry Tatum’s Kenpo Karate Association. It is difficult to find any
kind of consensus in the kenpo world, but Larry Tatum seems
generally recognised as the most faithful and effective “main-
stream” exponent of Ed Parker’s art.

Can American kenpo be taken seriously as a form or descendant or
“cousin” of karate? Technically it is a long way removed from the
karate of Okinawa and Japan, though that is not of itself a
significant objection. Arguably, and more seriously, it is seriously
compromised by its questionable origins. If James Mitose and
William Chow told falsehoods about their background and training
history – and it does seem more than likely that they did – then are
not all subsequent kenpo lineages discredited? And what is to be
said for an art that traces its origins to a man convicted of extortion,
fraud and murder? What is in some ways worse, the transmission
of kenpo seems to have become hopelessly confused and diluted.
At the present time, there are dozens of different kenpo schools and
associations in the USA and elsewhere, all claiming some kind of
connection with one or more of the Mitose, Chow and Parker
lineages. “Kenpo” of one kind and another seems to be particularly
associated with the “McDojo” phenomenon: commercial “shopping
mall” schools teaching poor quality martial art and “self-defence
techniques” for money, often to young children. If kenpo is a

member of the karate family, it seems to be rather a disreputable
one.
On the other hand, there are undoubtedly many serious,
sincere and dedicated practitioners of kenpo. Even if it is true
that the founders of “American” kenpo were frauds or fantasists,
their honest and unwitting students have nothing to be ashamed
of. To a certain extent, the legitimacy of an art is in the eye of the
beholder; or, more correctly, in the minds and intentionality of
those who practise it. Taking as favourable a view of it as one can,
American kenpo is a genuine attempt to mould and adapt an
oriental art into a form amenable to the cultural norms of the
West. As such, alongside its questionable aspects there is much in
it that one can admire.
USA Goju
USA Goju – also called American Goju and Urban Goju – is the
brainchild of a native of New Jersey called Peter Urban (1934–
2004). It is a largely new art (though it is perhaps more of a
“philosophy” than an art) that has grown from traditional roots
thanks to the inventiveness and determination of its founder.
Peter Urban’s biography is not easy to reconstruct: there are
several inconsistent versions of his life story, mostly based on
different conversations remembered by different people. What is
offered here is a synthesis of the available accounts.1
One’s impression is that, as a personality, Urban was not
unlike Oyama Masutatsu: assertive, intolerant of criticism, strong-
willed, indefatigable, self-promoting and capable of inspiring
great loyalty. He discovered karate in 1953 when he was stationed
in Yokohama as a sailor in the United States Navy. There he met
the Hawaiian-American martial artist Richard Kim (1917–2001),
with whom he trained for a year. When he was posted to Tokyo in
1 Urban’s surname was originally Ladis. We can find no record of

when and why he changed it.
Peter Urban
1954 Richard Kim introduced him to Yamaguchi Gogen and
Oyama Masutatsu, with both of whom he studied for six years,
though he regarded Yamaguchi as his chief mentor. According to
Urban, the training that he experienced in Japan was excep-
tionally brutal (American servicemen were not popular with the
Japanese during the early 1950s). In 1957 – having trained for
only four years – he opened his own small dojo in Tokyo, and in
the same year competed in the All Japan College Karate
Championships; apparently he was the first occidental ever to do
either of these things.
Urban went home to the United States in 1959 having been
awarded the grade of godan (fifth dan) by Yamaguchi. Despite a
full-time commitment to the United States Navy, he had managed
to train intensively enough to achieve this grade from scratch in
some six years. One can only conclude either that this was an
extraordinary achievement or that a fifth dan in those days meant
something different from what it means now.1 On returning to the
1 One can make a similar remark about the American servicemen who
trained with Shimabuku Tatsuo and went home as fifth dans or higher.
Peter Urban training with Yamaguchi Gogen

United States he opened his first American dojo in his home town,
Union City, New Jersey. In the following year he opened another
dojo on 17th Street in Manhattan, and thereafter several more in
various New York locations, including the “Chinatown” dojo at
232 Canal Street that became his centre of operations. As far as
one can tell, he regarded himself at this time as the unofficial
American representative of Yamaguchi’s Goju. At some point in
the 1960s (there are different accounts of exactly when this
happened) he visited Japan again, apparently – though the details
of the story are not clear – to ask Yamaguchi to appoint him as his
official representative in the United States with a suitable rank.
Yamaguchi declined, saying that, according to the principles of
One has to wonder quite what the content of their training was and
why Japanese teachers were content to award high dan grades to
foreigners after such a short time. Nowadays it would not be possible
to achieve the rank of godan in any reputable organisation in less than
fifteen or twenty years. In his book The Karate Dojo (p. 42), Urban
himself says: “In the Gojuryu Karate system … [i]t takes a completely
dedicated person at least seven or eight years of intensive study to
attain the … grade of fourth dan after having trained in the kyu and
low dan levels.”
Bushido, no foreigner could hold such a position (and possibly

intending that his sons should represent him abroad, as
eventually they did). 1 Urban is said to have retorted that,
according to the principles of Bushido, Japan could never accept
defeat in war, either. This did not go down well with Yamaguchi.
The two quarrelled and, though the quarrel was soon made up,
Urban thereafter decided to go his own way.
Hence USA Goju, of which Urban presently began to describe
himself as the Tenth Dan Grand Patriarch. He also awarded
himself the titles “Maestro,” “Professor” and “Dr” and in later
years took to printing the letters PhD, ScD after his name. 2
Having broken away from the karate establishment, and confident
of his own ability, he considered himself free to develop in
whatever ways he chose, and USA Goju seems to have gone
through several stages of evolution (arguably it is evolving still). He
also expressed his ideas in several books, the best known of which
is The Karate Dojo: Traditions and Tales of a Martial Art.3 His system –
1 This is to read between the lines somewhat. The story of Urban’s

quarrel with Yamaguchi exists in different versions, but in one of them
Urban reports Yamaguchi as having declined because “no white man
can attain nirvana.” However, (a) “nirvana” is an Indian Buddhist term
denoting freedom from greed, hatred and delusion, and Yamaguchi
was not a Buddhist teacher; (b) it is inconceivable that any Buddhist
teacher would say such a thing; and (c) what had nirvana to do with it
anyway? Also, the Japanese usually refer to foreigners as “gaijin” (外人)
rather than “white men” (白人, hakujin). The “nirvana” sentence is, we
conjecture, Urban’s retrospective (and possibly self-serving) version of
what Yamaguchi actually said, perhaps in less than perfect English.
The account that we have given probably comes as close to the truth of
the matter as it is possible to get.
2 These degrees were, it seems, conferred by a Hawaiian diploma mill
called the Eurotechnical Research University. They recognise Urban’s
achievements in “polemikology” – a science that he invented,
described as “the study of the structure and organization of
combative systems.” The habit of American martial arts teachers of
awarding themselves professorships, doctorates and other resounding
but unofficial titles was well established by the late 1960s.
3 Tuttle Publishing, 1967. This book was written before his separation
from Yamaguchi.
if it can be called a system – is a synthesis of what he learnt from

Richard Kim, Oyama Masutatsu and Yamaguchi Gogen, with the
addition of numerous innovations of his own. He retained the
name Goju and the traditional kata names, but he composed several
new kata and extensively revised – often out of all recognition – the
standard Goju ones. On the whole, he was resistant to the idea that
karate should have a fixed and invariable curriculum, but the kata
that he regarded as the cornerstones of USA Goju are:1
Urban Teikyoku.
Urban Gekkisai.
Urban Tensho.
Urban Empi-Ha.
Urban Seiunchin.
Urban Seisan.
Urban Kooroorunfa.
Urban Suparempei.
Urban Bo.
Urban Han.

To put it as charitably as one can, Peter Urban seems to have
been a somewhat odd individual whose behaviour and manner
in his later years became extremely eccentric. Undoubtedly there
was something of the mountebank about him, as attested by his
penchant for grandiose titles and bogus university degrees. It
would be pleasant to think that he did much of this kind of thing
with tongue firmly in cheek, though it is also possible to think
that, in later years, the adulation that he received from his many
followers rather went to his head. The gimmicks and untruths
that found their way into USA Goju are unfortunate, because
1 In listing them we preserve the spellings/transliterations that Urban

apparently preferred.
there is in Urban’s system much that one cannot help

applauding. The strength of USA Goju lies in its recognition of
the importance of individuality and personal development
through karate. To say the least of it, breaking away from so
venerated a teacher as Yamaguchi Gogen and developing his
own interpretation of karate must have required considerable
strength of character. The strength of character to examine what
they have learnt and to change and adapt it into something new
and alive is precisely what so many contemporary karateka lack
– and are encouraged by their teachers not to develop. In this
respect, if in no other, Peter Urban has set a good example.
Urban himself successfully resisted the temptation to create a
rigid and hierarchical organisation governed by an unchanging
orthodoxy. He declined also to be governed by the past or to
prescribe in detail what the future of his creation should be. In
2003, aware of advancing age and deteriorating health, he
published his will. To everyone’s surprise, he declined to name a
successor, instead leaving what he was by then calling Gojulandia
in the care of a number of trusted associates who would be free to
follow whatever paths of development they chose. Since his death,
Urban Goju appears to have become a loose federation of schools
teaching widely differing syllabuses, united under a blanket
organisation called the Urban System of America Goju Assoc-
iation International. There have been the inevitable political
arguments and resultant splinters, but Urban’s legacy is, on the
whole, so flexible and accommodating that there really is nothing
much to argue about.
Taekwondo
Taekwondo (the word means “the way of kicking and punching”)
is both a Korean martial art and the national sport of South Korea;
indeed, it is the only martial art to have received such official
recognition by a national government. Since 2000 the form of
taekwondo sparring called sihap kyorugi has been an Olympic
event. Taekwondo thus has the distinction – if it is a distinction –

of being one of the only two oriental combat arts (the other being
judo) represented at the Olympic Games.
The main Korean ancestor of taekwondo is an ancient striking
and kicking art called taekkyeon,1 which was originally a branch
of a more comprehensive military art called subak that made use
of hand strikes, kicks, joint locks and throws. Subak, broadly
speaking, is the Korean equivalent of Japanese ju jutsu. It is said
that subak and taekkyeon can be traced back (by way of wall
paintings, tomb inscriptions, etc.) to the fifth century, though
taekkyeon does not seem to have become an art separate from
subak until the latter part of the eighteenth century. Taekkyeon is
still practised as an art in its own right in Korea and to a limited
extent in Europe, China and Japan, and several associations exist
for its promotion.
The Japanese occupation of Korea from 1910 to 1945
represents a turning-point in Korean martial arts history. On the
one hand, intent on suppressing all traces of native Korean
culture, the Japanese prohibited the practice of the Korean
martial arts. Taekkyeon, insofar as it was practised at all, was
therefore an underground art practised in secret for some thirty-
five years. It is said that by 1945 only one practitioner of
traditional taekkyeon, Song Duk Ki (1893–1987), was still alive.
This looks a little like a folkloric exaggeration, but we can at any
rate take it that the art was in serious decline by the end of
World War II. On the other hand, Koreans who wished to do so
were encouraged during the years of occupation to train in the
Japanese arts. Thus, when taekkyeon started to re-emerge after
1945, it began at once to exhibit characteristics influenced by
Japanese karate. Indeed, given the long-term political and
cultural connections between Japan and Korea, it seems likely
that Japanese influences were present in traditional taekkyeon
long before 1945.
1 The word is also romanised as taekkyon and taekyon.

Song Duk Ki
If Song Duk Ki’s name is not always mentioned as a part of
taekwondo history it certainly deserves to be. At the end of
World War II, as part of a general Korean cultural revival, he set
about the task of rescuing taekkyeon from imminent extinction.
By 1953 there were nine kwans (schools) teaching taekkyeon in
various forms. Song Duk Ki and his students had effected so
successful a revival that the president of South Korea, Syngman
Rhee (1875–1965), asked General Choi Hong Hi (1918–2002) to
introduce taekkyeon as a part of military training.
It was not, however, introduced in a “pure” or an unmodified
form. General Choi had himself trained in taekkyeon but he was
also a nidan (second dan) in Shotokan karate under Funakoshi
Gichin. The art that he now systematised for the purposes of
military training was thus – as he himself said – a fusion of indig-
enous taekkyeon and Japanese Shotokan karate.1 In particular, he
devised a series of twenty-four forms or patterns – called hyung or
teul in Korean – that are obviously influenced by (indeed, are in
some respects identical to) the kata of Shotokan. These patterns are
still used by the International Taekwondo Federation, though the
1 H. H. Choi, Taekwon-Do: The Korean Art of Self-Defence, vol. 1, pp. 241–

274 (3rd ed., International Taekwon-Do Federation, 1993).
World Taekwondo Federation (see below) has adopted a different

set of patterns called poomse. It was General Choi who devised the
name taekwondo for the synthetic style that he had developed, and
this name was officially recognised by the government of Syngman
Rhee on 11 April, 1955.
Choi Hong Hi
Over and above its use in military training, taekwondo rapidly

achieved popularity as a civilian pursuit. In 1961, as part of an
initiative to unify the various schools then in existence and to
promote the art more widely, the Korean Taekwondo Union was
founded (in the following year – attempts at unification having not
entirely succeeded – its name was changed to the Korean
Taekwondo Association). In 1966 General Choi established the
International Taekwondo Federation to facilitate the spread of the
art worldwide, with Vietnam, Malaysia, Singapore, West Germany,
the United States, Turkey, Italy, Egypt and South Korea as its
founding national members. The International Taekwondo
Federation and its predecessors were official organisations spon-
sored by the South Korean government.
At this point, however, politics supervened in a more

substantial and literal form than its usual appearances in martial
arts history. General Choi had been involved in the military coup
d’état that in 1961 had established Park Chung Hee as the
President of South Korea, but he became increasingly disill-
usioned with President Park’s regime, especially after he was
required to resign from the army in 1962 and packed off as the
South Korean Ambassador to Malaysia. On returning from his
tour of duty in Malaysia he decided that he could no longer live
under the Park government. In 1971 he went into exile in
Canada, taking the International Taekwondo Federation with
him. 1 Meanwhile a new national training centre, called the
Kukkiwon, was built in Seoul, and in 1973 the South Korean
government formed the World Taekwondo Federation as the
art’s official governing body. In what looks to the outsider like
an extraordinary display of ingratitude General Choi was more
or less airbrushed out of taekwondo history. Documents
associated with the World Taekwondo Federation either do not
mention him at all or refer to him as a figure of no importance.
The International Taekwondo Federation and the World Tae-
kwondo Federation continue to exist, though only the latter is
recognised by the International Olympic Committee. Thanks to
the inevitable disputes over succession when General Choi died,
there are in fact now three separate organisations each claiming to
be the true International Taekwondo Federation.

According to an official estimate published by the South Korean
government, taekwondo is now practised by some seventy million
people in 190 countries. This may be an exaggeration, but it is
certainly true that taekwondo has succeeded remarkably well in
establishing itself internationally. Its emphasis on spectacular
kicking techniques and competition fighting have made it
1 He remained in exile in Toronto until his health began to fail in 2000,

when he returned to Pyongyang in North Korea.
especially popular with the young, fit and super-flexible.

“Traditional” taekwondo – taekwondo as developed for military
training purposes – is still practised, though taekwondo seems
nowadays to be regarded by most of its practitioners – in both the
World Taekwondo Federation and the International Taekwondo
Federation – as a sport rather than as a martial art. We are on the
whole justified in regarding taekwondo as a kind of “cousin” of
karate. On the one hand, under the direction of the World
Taekwondo Federation, it has been intentionally developed and
marketed as a purely Korean art/sport, with Japanese influences
minimised, denied or eradicated as far as possible. It has not,
however, been possible to wish away those influences altogether.
Taekwondo as practised within the International Taekwondo
Federation, on the other hand, bears the clear imprint of Shotokan
karate as part of its ancestry; and its practitioners insist – not
without reason – that their version of the art is the one that
General Choi formulated and named. It may be pointed out also
that the relationship between taekwondo and karate is a two-way
affair. Most obviously, the high and acrobatic kicks characteristic
of taekwondo are now more and more seen in traditional karate
dojo. By and large, the influence that the two arts have had on one
another is undeniable; nor, nationalist sentiments apart, is there
any reason to regret it.
Kickboxing
The modern contact sport of kickboxing furnishes a good
illustration of how, for good or ill, one art can meld with others
to create something new. In its current forms kickboxing can be
most succinctly described as a hybridisation of karate, muay
Thai (Thai boxing), taekwondo and western boxing. There are,
however, now so many kickboxing and “freestyle” schools and
associations that it is difficult to make meaningful general
statements. In comparatively recent years, with the addition of
grappling techniques lifted from judo and ju jutsu, kickboxing
has also metamorphosed into the “mixed martial arts” phen-

omenon.
Contemporary kickboxing began in Japan at the end of the
1950s. In December 1959, Yamada Tatsuo1 (山田辰夫) (d. 1967), a
former student of Motobu Choki, attended a Thai boxing match in
Tokyo and was impressed by what he saw. He had for some time
been toying with the possibility of forming an organisation to
promote full-contact karate fighting, and he now conceived the
idea of arranging fights between Thai boxers and Japanese
karateka. He seems from the first to have wanted to make full-
contact fighting into a competition sport rather than to replicate the
Yamada Tatsuo (left) practising with Motobu Choki
kind of iron personal discipline cultivated by Kyokushin

karateka. In collaboration with a boxing promoter called
Noguchi Osamu (野口修 ) (1934) he arranged a contest between
three muay Thai fighters and three Kyokushin karateka: Naka-
mura Tadashi, Kurosaki Kenjii and Fujihira Akio. The contest
1 Not to be confused with the film actor of the same name.

took place on 12 February, 1963 in the Lumpinee Boxing Stadium

in Bangkok; Nakamura and Fujihira won their bouts by a
knockout (Fujihira, under the ring-name Osawa Noboru, was
subsequently to become a prominent kickboxer). Thereafter
Noguchi Osamu drew up a set of rules for kickboxing as a sport
in its own right, and in 1966 founded the Kickboxing Association
as its first sanctioning body. 1 At the same time Yamada opened a
kickboxing school of his own in Tokyo called Nihon Kempo
Karate-do, 2 the name of which was changed – perhaps in an
intentional departure from traditional language – to Suginami
Gym after his death.
The first actual kickboxing event as such – i.e. the first event that
was not a mixed match between fighters of different styles – was
held in Osaka on 11 April, 1966. The sport became instantly popular;
for a while there was a kind of kickboxing craze in Japan. At one
point contests were being broadcast three times a week on Japanese
television, though the popularity of kickboxing declined somewhat
during the 1980s. During the 1990s it revived again, largely thanks to
the efforts of a former Kyokushin karateka called Ishii Kazuyoshi
who in 1993 set up an organisation called K1 that for a while enjoyed
considerable success. (In 1980 Ishii had formed a more conventional
full-contact karate association called Seidokaikan (正道会館), of
which K1 was a commercial offshoot.) Thanks to the culturally self-
destructive wish of many young Japanese to emulate anything
American, much of the renewed popularity of kickboxing in Japan
during the 1990s seems to have been due to the fact that it was now
possible to market it as an American sport.
Kickboxing had spread to the United States by the early 1970s.
Much of its initial appeal was to established karateka who had
become bored with the formality and lack of realism of traditional
1 It may well have been Noguchi who coined the Japanese loan-word
キックボクシング (kikkubokushingu).
2 Yamada’s Nihon Kempo is to be distinguished from the combat sport
of the same name (though usually romanised as Nippon Kempo)
created by Sawayama Muneumi in 1932.
karate. One of its earliest proponents was a notorious swindler and

criminal called John Timothy Keehan (1939–1975), more usually
known as Count Juan Raphael Danté, 1 who in 1964 formed a
promotional organisation called the World Karate Federation. 2
Initially a rough-house affair with few rules and no weight
categories, kickboxing in America was formalised under different
codes by a number of associations set up for the purpose.
Prominent among these have been the United States Kickboxing
Association (1970); the Professional Karate Association (1974); the
World Kickboxing Association (1976); the International Sport
Karate Federation (1985); and the International Kickboxing
Federation (1992). As far as we can see, there is no significant
difference between kickboxing and what is variously called full
contact karate or American full contact karate.
Broadly speaking, kickboxing can be described as jiyu kumite
fully transmogrified into a sport, with few if any pretensions to be
an art. What differences there are between the various organ-
isations now in existence are partly political and have partly to do
with the rules governing tournaments. The format of tournaments
is more or less the same everywhere, and resembles that of western
boxing: short rounds punctuated by short rest breaks, with contests
decided on points or by a knockout. In specific respects, however,
there are different sets of rules prescribing the length and number
1 During the 1960s “Count Danté” promoted himself in advertisements

in American comic books as “the deadliest man alive” and as being
willing to reveal (in the booklet offered for sale in the same
advertisements) the secrets of “the DEADLIEST and most TERR-
IFYING fighting art known to man.” In 1965 he and an accomplice
were charged with attempted arson when they tried to blow out the
windows of a rival dojo in Chicago with explosives. There are several
similarly discreditable stories about him. In 1969 he founded an
organisation called the Black Dragon Fighting Society, which still
exists and to which one can belong in exchange for a fee (at the time
of writing) of US$150.
2 Not to be confused with the World Karate Federation that was
formed in 1990 with the object (among other things) of promoting
karate as an Olympic sport.
of rounds, the permitted degree of contact, the height of kicks and

the use of clinches, knees and elbows. In contrast to the fearsome
full-contact kumite practised by Kyokushin karateka, kickboxing
contests always involve the use of protective equipment. There are
national kickboxing associations in all the other countries to which
kickboxing has spread; in Europe, these have come together with a
high degree of success under an umbrella called the World
Association of Kickboxing Organisations (1976). There is no overall
governing body or central authority, however, and kickboxing
“world champions” are often champions of a very small world.
It was not clear to us at first that kickboxing should be included

in a list of arts having a family relation to karate. Genealogically, it
probably stands closer to Thai boxing than to anything else,
though the more ferocious techniques of Thai boxing are mostly
forbidden by its rules. To all intents and purposes kickboxing is
simply a form of prizefighting. Some emphasis is given in kick-
boxing clubs to fitness and self-defence, but kickboxing is almost
exclusively practised as a competition sport, and if the expression
“martial art” is used in relation to it, it is used only in a very loose
sense. There are – at least as far as we know – no kata and none of
the ritual courtesies found in karate dojo. Kickboxing has no
discernible “spiritual” or “philosophical” aspect, and there is no
obvious sense among practitioners of being related to an eastern
cultural tradition (though the system of coloured belts to denote
rank has in many cases been adopted). The main, if not the only,
object of the exercise is competition fighting. Nonetheless, it is
obvious that kickboxing has borrowed techniques from karate as
well as from Thai boxing and other arts. Also, in terms of ancestry
Japanese karate was one of its main forerunners and Japanese
karateka were among its earliest exponents. It is in this sense fair
enough to regard it as a cousin of karate, albeit only a rather
distant one.

When we began this book, we took it for granted that it would be

an easy matter to set out the development of karate in the form of
a straightforward narrative. In making this assumption we were
mistaken. That certain people lived, practised and taught is easy
enough to establish by conventional means; but beyond such bare
biographical facts the story of karate is as much a matter of myth-
ology as of history. The accounts that one comes across often give
the impression of being not so much the truth as what people
want to be the truth or think ought to be true. Almost nothing is
verifiable. Predictable patterns of myth and folklore abound.
Written records are sparse and unreliable. Autobiographical
writings are often anecdotal, and in some cases self-serving and
clearly intended to provide ex post facto justifications for earlier
decisions and actions; biographical writings are almost always
uncritical hagiographies, full of tall stories that one is expected to
take on trust. One has to rely heavily on oral traditions that are
not capable of corroboration and that exist in different versions.
Credulous disciples accept absurdities as truth and weave them
into the story (you would, for example, have to be pretty gullible
to believe the tale put about by Peter Urban that Yamaguchi
Gogen killed a tiger with his bare hands; yet people do believe it,
and repeat it as an article of faith.) In some cases, the traditional
narrative has been distorted or exaggerated by people with
agendas of their own – who wish to enhance or damage the
reputation of this or that teacher or school, or to justify themselves
and vilify others. Sometimes one comes across stories that appear
to be no more than a collection of half-truths or outright false-
hoods (as, it would seem, in the case of James Mitose and William
Chow). In short, much of what passes for karate history has to be
taken with a pinch of salt, and almost everything that can be said
will be disputed by someone. In these pages, we have tried to be
as accurate as we can, but we conclude this historical section with
a strong feeling that the truth will always be elusive.
4
KARATE IN THE MODERN WORLD:
A CRITICAL OVERVIEW
I
N EFFECT, THIS chapter begins a new and separate section of the
book. We anticipate that it will be controversial in a way that
the earlier chapters were not. In it we intend to get away from
history and develop a critical overview of karate as practised at the
present time. In doing so we shall repeat some of the things that we
have said elsewhere,1 but we shall elaborate and add to them. We
write not in a spirit of mindless conservatism, but in the conviction
that the development of karate from the mid twentieth century
onwards has involved the loss of much that is valuable and the
introduction of much that is not.
There is no denying that distance lends enchantment to the
view. It is easy to look at the past through the proverbial rose-
tinted spectacles; it is also easy to think that one’s own likes and
dislikes ought to be the likes and dislikes of the rest of the world.
These are pitfalls of which we are aware. We proceed in spite of
them, however, conceding straight away that what we say is only
a personal opinion. The least that can be said is that it is an
opinion grounded in a good deal of experience and honest
1 See Michael Cowie and Robert Dyson, Kenkyo-ha Goju Karate Kempo:
An Introduction to the Way of Karate (Kenkyo-ha Budo Renmei, 2011),
esp. chs 1, 9–11.
reflection. We know too, of course, that to every unfavourable

generalisation there will be many honourable exceptions.
The Ethical Deterioration of Karate

In the long inscription on Funakoshi Gichin’s memorial at
Engaku-ji near Tokyo there appear two sayings attributed to him:
空手は君子の武芸 (Karate wa kunshi no bugei), “Karate is the
martial art of the virtuous man” and 拳禅一 (Kenzen ichi) “the fist
and Zen are one.” These aphorisms express an important truth:
that the founders of karate intended to create much more than a
repertoire of physical techniques or a system of self-defence. They
saw their art also, and especially, as a means of self-development
or self-perfection: a discipline that, properly taught, would enable
the practitioner to grow into a virtuous – a well-integrated,
mature, socially responsible, unselfish – human being. They
understood also that unless taught in conjunction with certain
ideals of behaviour – humility, compassion, self-restraint, public
spirit – karate might be no more than the skilled application of
violence for dishonourable purposes. In a sentence that might be
adopted as the motto of all karateka, Funakoshi Osensei says:
“The true purpose of the art of karate lies not in victory or defeat,
but in the perfection of the practitioner’s character.”1
These are not empty words, nor is the sentiment by any means
unique to Funakoshi. We remember that, in the earliest times of
which we have any solid knowledge, Takahara Pechin and
Matsumura Sokon both emphasised the ethical as well as the
physical dimensions of their art. There is every reason to think
that the founders of karate selected their students with great care
and devoted as much time to the formation of their character as to
the cultivation of physical prowess.
In this context, it is important also to remember two things.
First, the te of Okinawa became transformed into what we now
1 For a selection of Funakoshi’s sayings see Cowie and Dyson, Kenkyo-

ha Goju Karate Kempo, pp. 9–10.
call karate largely through exposure to the martial arts of China;

but those arts were themselves strongly connected to the related
moral traditions of Buddhism and Taoism.1 Second, after its trans-
mission to Japan, karate came into contact with the ancient
military ideology of loyalty and self-sacrifice called Bushido (武士
道) and with the practice of Zen Buddhism. Bushido is usually
translated as something like “warrior way,” but the word “bushi”
means a good deal more than “warrior” means in English. “Bu” (武)
is “military”; shi (士) is “gentleman.” A “military gentleman” – a
Samurai – is more than a skilled fighter. He is person of chivalry
and nobility of character. 2 This may not always have been true in
practice. The contention that the Samurai were sometimes
arrogant bullies or mindless fanatics no doubt has an element of
truth in it. But an ideal is not invalidated by the fact that people
fall short of it.
Modern karate thus emerged into a world in which ready-
made systems of ethics were on hand to receive and shape it. The
fact that karate was so much formed by the example of Bushido
is not, when you think about it, all that remarkable. No western
student familiar with the medieval European tradition of
chivalry will see anything strange in the idea that fighting
prowess can be humanised and civilised by association with a
code of personal excellence. Such a code is what distinguishes
the “knight” from the barbarian, or the righteous fighter from
the mere exponent of violence. Contrary to what is sometimes
1 Itosu Anko, in the letter mentioned on pp. 12–13, above, says: “Karate
did not develop from Buddhism or Confucianism.” This is an extra-
ordinary thing to say, given the obvious connections between karate
and Buddhist traditions – especially if it is true that Itosu coined the
name Shorin Ryu (“Shaolin School”). Many early karateka, indeed,
are more than happy to claim a connection with China and the
“Shaolin Temple.” One can only assume that Itosu, writing at a time
of Japanese hostility towards China and Chinese culture, wanted to
play down the extent of Chinese influence on the art that he was
trying to “sell” to the Japanese education authorities.
2 See Nitobe Inazo, Bushido: the Soul of Japan (Charles E. Tuttle, 1969),
for an account of the ethical virtues of Bushido.
believed, karate never was a Japanese Samurai art, but it readily

embraced the chivalric tradition long ago implanted by the
Samurai in the Japanese martial culture.
As far as we know, it was Funakoshi Gichin who first attached
the suffix “do” to the word karate. This small terminological change
is of great significance. “Do” (道) is “way” or “path,” with the
specific meaning of “Zen way” or “Buddhist teaching.” Understood
in this sense, karate is more than a collection of fighting skills –
more, that is, than a “jutsu” (術). It is a way of life ordered to the
development of personal and social excellence. The exterior aspects
of practice are only the means by which the practitioner strives to
develop interior virtues: courtesy, determination, humility, gentle-
ness, justice, self-knowledge, restraint, non-aggression. As he works
to eliminate technical imperfections from his practice, the karateka
works simultaneously to eradicate moral imperfections from his
character. It may seem hopelessly paradoxical to suggest that one
can find a kind of virtue and inner peace through the determined
practice of a fighting art, yet this is a central proposition of karate as
we understand it. The ultimate and true purpose of training is to
defeat the self – the demands and dissonances of ego – and
transform oneself into a person of integrity and virtue.
So far, so good. Our strong impression, however, is that in the

period since World War II the ethical dimensions of karate have
been neglected almost to the point of atrophy. We know that there
are groups and individuals of whom this is not true, but there is
every reason to think it true in general. As long ago as 1976
Funakoshi Gichin’s senior student Egami Shigeru wrote:
The present situation ... is that the majority of followers of karate
in overseas countries pursue karate only for its fighting techniques
... It is extremely doubtful that those enthusiasts have come to a
full understanding of karate-do ... Mention should also be made of
the negative influence of movies and television on the public
image of karate, if not on the art itself. Depicting karate as a
mysterious way of fighting capable of causing death or injury
with a single blow or kick ... the mass media present a pseudo art
far from the real thing.1
By “in overseas countries” Egami Sensei presumably means

“elsewhere than in Japan,” but it is by no means obvious that
Japanese karate is exempt from the kind of reproaches that he
expresses, nor is it true that the Japanese themselves have had no
part in the ethical deterioration of karate elsewhere. On the
contrary, this deterioration is at least to some extent due to the
exploitation of karate by some of its most senior Japanese prac-
titioners. At the end of the war, Okinawa and Japan were in
ruins, materially, economically and politically. Reduced to
destitution, several formerly prominent teachers found
themselves having to keep the wolf from the door by teaching
karate to American servicemen stationed in their country as part
of an army of occupation. One can hardly blame them for earning
a crust in the only way open to them, and one can readily imagine
how such a necessity must have stuck in the throat. American
servicemen, however, were by and large much more interested in
learning how to fight than in cultivating personal virtue. One
assumes also that they would have thought the Japanese hardly in
a position to moralise. The art that American soldiers and marines
took home with them (often with high dan grades acquired after
only a few years of study) was to that extent incomplete and, so to
speak, external. They were understandably proud of their
physical accomplishments and full of stories about the wonderful
things the Masters could do, but they had little apparent
awareness of anything beyond technique.2 Similar remarks apply
1 The Heart of Karate-Do (Kodansha International, 1976; rev. edn., 2000),

pp. 13–14.
2 We here make again a point that we have made already, but one that
bears repeating. Certain questions about the “US marines who
trained with the Okinawan Masters” myth are never asked, and
ought to be. Given that the typical USMC tour of duty on Okinawa or
in Japan was for one year and that being an American serviceman
was a full-time job, just how much training did the marines in
question actually do with the Masters? Those early students were
to the Japanese teachers who came to Europe during the post-war

period. They found students who were culturally disposed to
learn only the exterior aspects of their art, and that is what they
taught them – for money, and usually, it must be remembered, in
the face of a language barrier so great as to make the
communication of nuances all but impossible anyway. One’s
strong impression is that, by and large, those early teachers and
their students simply failed to understand what each wanted and
expected of the other.
The influence of the media to which Egami Sensei draws
attention is only one of the factors involved in the decline of
karate as an art, and not the most significant one. We shall come
back to it shortly, but in the context of other, and more substantial,
considerations. Karate and the martial arts in general have
suffered from a number of attitudinal changes, some of which are
related to general cultural changes and others of which are
attributable to specific influences. As long-term and interested
observers of the karate world, we are inclined to make the
following remarks, all of which are interrelated at different levels
of generality.
Sport Karate
The coming of “sport” karate and the emergence of the related

phenomena of kickboxing and “mixed” martial arts1 have had an
entirely deleterious effect on the conception of karate as an art or
“way.” Jiyu kumite – free or largely unregulated sparring – may
or may not have something to be said for it. Older teachers –
Funakoshi Gichin especially – tended to discourage or forbid it,
largely because they saw competitiveness as undermining rather
among those who fostered the belief, prevalent in the 1960s and
common until quite recently, that it is a virtually superhuman feat to
“get a black belt.” How and why were so many of them awarded
high dan grades after only a relatively short period of training?
1 At the time of writing the long-running craze for “Brazilian” ju jutsu
– an immediate forerunner of “mixed” martial arts – seems to have
run out of steam.
than reinforcing the desired virtues of character.1 A later, and now

the predominant, view is that jiyu kumite introduces a valuable
element of reality and “stress-testing” into karate practice. There
are respectable arguments on both sides.2 At all events, no one
who has ever watched the full-blooded kumite of Kyokushin
karateka is likely to have any doubts about the participants’
courage and strength of character. It is, however, incontrovertible
that the growth and popularity of jiyu kumite has contributed to
the common perception of karate as a sport or game.
Part of the problem (if we are right to call it a problem) is the
general failure of the “philosophy” of karate to cross the linguistic
and cultural divide between East and West. An ethical system that
is in essence Buddhist is likely to be completely foreign to the
mindset of the average westerner.3 This is probably less true than
it once was, but it is still true in general. All occidental karate
teachers know a few words and phrases of Japanese, and many
pretend to know more than they do. Few, however, take the
trouble to study the Japanese language and culture in any depth.
They are to that extent ill equipped to grasp and communicate the
“inner” nature of karate, and correspondingly ready to slot karate
into a familiar pre-existing “sport” framework. There are plenty of
people now to whom the idea of karate as being anything other
than a sport is unintelligible. Every instructor knows – and in
many cases will pander to – students for whom kata practice is
only an irritating distraction from the fun of fighting or an
1 See Egami, The Heart of Karate Do, pp. 111; 113; also Higaonna Morio
Traditional Karate Do vol. 4: Applications of the Kata (Japan Publications,
1991), p. 136.
2 For some account of them see Cowie and Dyson, Kenkyo-ha Goju
Karate Kempo, pp. 239–241.
3 For example, western Christian-based ethics is teleological and
eschatological: goal-directed and “futurecentric.” We don’t think of
perfection or enlightenment as something to be lived in the here and
now and for its own sake. “Salvation” lies in the future, and we are
working our way towards it: life is a sort of journey with a clear
destination. Even people who perceive themselves as being com-
pletely non-religious have grown up in this tradition.
irksome requirement of a grading syllabus. For many

contemporary karateka the only or main object of practice is to
fight, to enter tournaments, to win trophies. Numerous organ-
isations have sprung up that have as their main or only purpose
the promotion of competitive events. We suspect that it is only a
matter of time before karate is accepted as an Olympic sport, as
judo and taekwondo already have been.
One objection to sport karate is that habitual participation in no-
contact or semi-contact fighting weakens technique and resolve
because “pulling” punches and kicks becomes established in the
participants’ minds as a conditioned reflex. In our context a far
more important point is the effect of competition on the character of
the competitor. It may be true that human beings are naturally
competitive animals. Nonetheless, the desire to win a karate contest
is a desire to gratify the ego: to exult in a victory destitute of moral
significance. Are we, then, to take seriously the maxim that “the
true purpose of the art of karate lies not in victory or defeat but in
the perfection of the practitioner’s character”? It is, of course, open
to anyone to disagree with Funakoshi Osensei: to contend that
“playing” karate is ethically no different from playing football. If
we are to take his dictum seriously, however, rather than merely
paying lip-service to it, a simple question presents itself: what,
exactly, is being perfected in the character of someone so largely
motivated by the desire to triumph over others? No doubt all this
will seem mealy-mouthed and self-righteous to some; but you
either believe in the idea of karate as a “way” of self-perfection or
you don’t, and whether you do or don’t is reflected in how you live
in relation to it.
The Media
When Egami Shigeru complained about “the negative influence of
movies and television” he was writing at the height of the “kung
fu” craze associated with the handful of films made between 1971
and 1973 by Bruce Lee. Perhaps he had also in mind the television
series Kung Fu (1972–1975) in which David Carradine played a
wandering Shaolin monk looking for his lost family in America.

These productions focus on Chinese arts rather than karate, but
Egami Sensei’s point, presumably, is that they cheapen and
vulgarise the martial arts in general by portraying them only as
“mysterious way[s] of fighting capable of causing death or injury
with a single blow or kick.”
This criticism is not without force, though we are inclined to
think it an overstatement. Silly and stagey as they are, with their
supercilious, invincible hero and caricature villains, it is perhaps
going too far to suggest that Bruce Lee’s films portray the martial
arts in a “negative” light. They are formulaic moralities cast in the
same mould as traditional Westerns. The invincible hero is always a
virtuous person fighting against wrong or injustice or in defence of
the underdog, and right always triumphs in the end. It is true that
the audience is invited to admire only the hero’s (cinematically
enhanced) technical virtuosity. Beyond a few bits and pieces of
catchpenny Oriental Wisdom, there is no depth of meaning. But in
how many other kinds of action and adventure film is there any
depth of meaning, and why should there be? Cinema audiences
want thrills and spills and spectacular fight scenes, not a lesson in
ethics. One can be too puritanical about such entertainments.
Flashy and meretricious as “kung fu” films mostly are, they are still
only action films and, as such, no more objectionable in their way
than Westerns or gangster movies are.
A different and more telling point is the way in which Bruce
Lee’s name and image were exploited for commercial purposes
after his death. Bruce Lee himself was really no more than a
mediocre actor and a salesman who found and exploited a niche
market, but the “kung fu boom” that he inaugurated turned into a
bandwagon that everyone suddenly wanted to be on. Certainly it
gave rise to many dubious claims and false expectations. If Bruce
Lee and his films have had a “negative” influence, this is due not
so much to the films themselves as to the ways in which Lee’s
name and reputation were used as part of the commercialisation
of the martial arts during the 1970s and after.
Commercialisation
We remarked earlier that karate has established itself worldwide,

but only at a cost. The spread and popularisation of karate for
which early teachers aimed has not been an unmixed blessing. Arg-
uably, it has not been a blessing at all. For one thing, the old idea of
a small dojo – perhaps a garden – in which a teacher would preside
over the personal as well as the technical development of a handful
of students is remembered only as an aspect of history. This
particular rot began to set in quite early. It was Itosu Anko who
introduced the idea of the karate “class” in the early years of the
twentieth century by sponsoring the introduction of karate into the
Okinawan school system (see pp. 12–13, above). It was he who first
adopted the mechanical or robotic method of training about which
we shall have more to say presently. Mass training along lines
reminiscent of military drill had established itself by the 1930s. But
what, under such conditions, becomes of “perfection of character”?
Mass training along lines reminiscent of military drill

had established itself by the 1930s
With the increasing commercialisation of karate since the end of

World War II large classes became the norm: classes moreover in
which the students are mere fee payers and the teacher a paid
service provider. Under such circumstances the traditional rela-
tionship of intimacy and example as between teacher and student
is lost. There is an exclusive concentration on the students’ merely
technical and outward development, with no attention paid to
broader issues of character formation.
It has been common since the late 1970s to hear references in
advertising and the media to “the martial arts industry.” What lies
behind this expression is an assumption that one hardly ever hears
questioned: that martial arts teaching is a business like any other.
This assumption is perhaps part of the larger attitudinal change
that western societies underwent in the late twentieth century, with
the return to prominence in the 1980s of the free market economic
ideology of classical liberalism. The most immediate implication of
that ideology, transfused into the culture of Europe and the USA
with remarkable success, was a doctrine of Philistine consumerism
and self-interest. To subscribe to that doctrine is to suppose that
every public relationship, however politely disguised, is a
commercial relationship, with gain as its object. Everything in the
world of human transactions has become an “industry.”
The phenomenon of commercialisation is most clearly seen in
the slick marketing of some large American kenpo schools. At all
levels of size, sophistication and success, however, there are
nowadays professional and semi-professional karate instructors,
and to the professional instructor karate is necessarily a com-
modity to be bought and sold. As such, the marketing of it is
subject to the same conditions as the marketing of any other
commodity. Teachers have to supply what there is a demand for;
and what there is a demand for is not, on the whole, karate as a
Zen way of self-perfection but karate as punching and kicking and
kumite and competitive sport.
We are not, of course, suggesting that commercial karate
teachers are necessarily crooks or phonies – we shall come to the
question of fraud later. What we do suggest, however, is that much

of what is now on offer has little or no connection with karate
considered as an ethical “way.” For more than one reason the last
few decades have seen the general demise of old-fashioned blood,
sweat and tears training. In the relatively prosperous post-war era,
people have learnt to expect rapid gratification in return for not too
much effort. Karate practised as an art requires intense and lifelong
dedication, but intense and lifelong dedication is at a discount in a
consumerist world in which people want and expect the immediate
gratification of desire; and what the people want is what the
professional teacher has to supply.
The growth of the martial arts “industry” has thus given rise
to what one might call a devaluation of the currency, or a
watering of the beer. One might also call it “grade inflation.”
Every karate teacher knows what the first question asked by a
newcomer to the dojo is likely to be: “How long will it take me to
get a black belt?” The new student almost always comes with a
picture in mind of a destination rather than a journey. But the
desire to pass gradings is much the same as the desire to win
tournaments. It is a desire for an empty personal gratification –
for a trinket that, of itself, has no value. As such, it is a desire
that a teacher committed to “perfection of character” ought to
eradicate, by instruction and example. But if karate is a
commodity to be traded like any other, why should the teacher
care, and how can he afford to care, about the perfection of
anybody’s character? Like every service provider, he has to give
the customers what the customers conceive themselves to be
paying for. If he does not, they will go to somebody who will.
One result of this commercial pressure, therefore, is a
proliferation of ranks or grades (the attainment of each of which
involves a fee) and a lowering of the standards required to achieve
each one – because students who “fail” will in all probability
never be seen again, and students for whom life is made too
demanding will soon give up and go away. Nowadays one comes
across holders of dan grades – some of them children – who have
little or no grasp of the inner or “spiritual” aspects of karate.

Many of them have no very impressive grasp of its external
aspects either. They have been whisked up the grading ladder
because that is what the teacher’s livelihood, or part of it, depends
on. A degree of lip-service may be paid to the “spiritual” side of
karate. It is easy enough, after all, to learn how to say the right
things. Rarely, however, does one come across any student for
whom karate is a way of life, or is more than a physical pursuit
engaged in only for a couple of hours once or twice a week. Often
enough one comes across karate “clubs” that are little more than
playgroups for children.
The “Compensation Culture”

For reasons having to do with commercial expediency and
changed attitudes, then, the arduous “character building”
training regimes that older karateka remember (or think they
remember) are now rarely seen. It is fair to add that, at least in
the United Kingdom, this decline has been compounded by a
growing aversion to risk. Anyone who nowadays asked of his
students what the teachers of old asked of theirs would soon find
not only that he had no students; more to the point, he would
very possibly find himself in court.
Karate, like any martial art, has its inherent dangers –
particularly, one might add, when practised by large numbers of
people in confined spaces. It goes without saying that no one
wants to see students injured, and a good teacher will do every-
thing possible to ensure that his students practise in reasonable
safety and in ways suitable to their level of experience. But to try
to eradicate all danger is to remove any semblance of authenticity
from practice. Per ardua ad astra is a sound maxim – but ardua have
become dangerous in a new way, and astra have had to be placed
within a self-defeatingly easy reach. Modern instructors have
ample reason to fear the consequences to themselves of injury to
students. In all walks of life a “compensation culture” has
developed within which people are encouraged to pursue dam-
ages for injuries and misfortunes that are either trivial or to which
they have themselves contributed. In Britain, at least, the courts
seem to have forgotten the old legal principle volenti non fit iniuria:
no injury is done to the willing. A consequence has been the
emergence of a societal fear of litigation that seems sometimes to
amount to a phobia. Everywhere elaborate precautions have to be
taken against even remote dangers and improbable mishaps.
Inevitably this fear makes itself felt in the dojo. But you cannot have
it both ways: you cannot develop a strong, indomitable, self-reliant
character in students if at the same time you feel constrained to
cosset and protect them from every hurt and every danger.
The Organisation of Karate

The spread and commercialisation of karate began at an early
stage to give rise to organisations of the kind now described as
“sanctioning” bodies or “governing” bodies. The first such
organisations were intended to unite all the dojo associated with
a particular ryu within a shared administrative framework.
Usually they originated with the teacher’s earliest or largest dojo,
which became a kind of head office or “hombu” (本部). Later
came large federative bodies such as the World Karate Fed-
eration and the European Karate Federation, the purpose of
which was to bring the various ryu or “styles” together under a
common organisation for the furtherance of mutual (pre-
dominantly sporting) goals.
It should be understood that even the largest and most rep-
utable of such organisations are “governing bodies” only because
they say they are (we shall mention the disreputable ones later).
There is no such thing as a universally recognised governing body
for the martial arts (though the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai and the
Kokusai Budoin in Japan are held in high esteem), and there is no
obligation on the part of individuals to belong to an organisation
of any kind. Many modern karate organisations are not much
more than commercial entities that exist to promote courses and
competitions, register members and grades, collect subscriptions
and act as insurance brokers for their membership. The larger and
better known ones are highly effective pyramid selling schemes. A
Great Man sits at the top of the pyramid, and those occupying the
tiers below him pay for the use of his name, the organisation’s
name and stationery, and, above all, the opportunity to grade and
be graded.
Part of what enables such schemes to succeed as well as they
do is what one might call a folk memory of the kind of
relationship that used to hold between teacher and student in
years gone by. At least down to the late nineteenth century, for x
to be accepted as a student of y generally meant that x would be
taught by y personally, on a kind of quasi-familial footing that
may have been inaugurated when x was a child (the motif of the
weak or unruly child sent off by his parents to be taken in hand by
a master is part of martial arts folklore). Save in exceptional cases
the days of one-to-one or small-group tuition are long gone, but
one still hears people proudly claiming that they are students or
disciples of So-and-So Sensei. It is quite likely that they have never
actually met So-and-So Sensei, or that they have seen him only
occasionally, at a course or seminar. They are his “students” only
in the sense of being paid-up members of the association of which
he is the head; but that membership, however tenuous the real
connection involved, seems to give the individual a sense of being
part of a family or lineage, or of being somehow validated or
approved in what he does. The idea that one is the Great Man’s
student may for most practical purposes be an illusion, but it is a
comforting one. In practice, So-and-So Sensei will probably not
have much contact with his organisation’s rank and file. Typically
access to him will be controlled by an inner circle of subordinates
who act as gatekeepers and intermediaries. This strategy of
insulation is a way of heightening the awe in which the Great Man
is held and protecting him from scrutiny and criticism. It is also an
obvious power-game played by the gatekeepers for their own
purposes. Nonetheless, the rank and file are somehow able to
believe that they are in a kind of personal relationship with the
Master, and through him connected with a long and venerable

tradition.
Considered in relation to karate’s stated goal of self-perfection,
karate “organisations” are dysfunctional in a number of ways, of
which the following are the most obvious.
Politics
The formal organisation of karate has fostered the political

squabbles and divisions that have been (and still are) so inveterate a
feature of relationships within the karate community. When we
sketched the twentieth-century development of the larger schools,
we saw that in every single case there was a succession crisis when
the founder died, or at least shortly afterwards. But crises and
quarrels at the top apart, it is also a truth of experience that karate
organisations at all levels, from club to international federation, are
chronically infected with rivalry, spite and back-biting of one kind
and another. No one who has spent any time in the martial arts
world can have failed to notice this perennial fact of life.
Why are these things apparently so inevitable? “Human nature”
is the short answer. The sort of rivalries and subversive behaviours
that we are calling “political” are seen in all organisations. They are
not phenomena peculiar to the martial arts. The kind of bodies into
which karate has become organised are inherently unstable because
they are, or quickly turn into, dominance hierarchies. Typically the
alpha male at the top of the hierarchy has a monopoly of power and
is able to control those below him by regulating the downward
flow of power and patronage (in karate organisations, patronage
typically takes the form of dan grades). Below him are the various
beta males who engage in strategies to maximise their own power,
often at one another’s expense. They are in competition with each
other for seniority within the hierarchy; they will try to find ways of
undermining those with whom they are competing; when a pos-
ition further up the ladder becomes vacant they will turn on each
other in a struggle to fill it. Politics, says Foucault, is war by other
means. This kind of highly predictable behaviour occurs at all levels
within an organisation, and all organisations, regardless of the

intentions with which they were created, tend to behave according
to this pattern. Their members are cordially and covertly at war
with one another. Behaviours ostensibly ordered to the
achievement of the organisation’s goals become rationalisations for
the playing of internal power games.
Conservatism
Karate organisations are for the most part instruments of stagnation
and fossilisation rather than development and growth. Like all
organisations, they maintain their identity by requiring of their
members compliance with a set of rules and principles; but karate
organisations also characteristically perceive themselves to be part
of a highly conformist “oriental” culture. They tend to encourage
and reward uniformity and discourage and punish individuality,
initiative and creativity. The kata must always be performed in one
way and no other; nothing must change; there must be no deviation
from what the Master taught, or is thought to have taught;
established patterns of deference and submission must be adhered
to and are dramatised through systems of etiquette and ritual;
significant dissent is regarded as a kind of treachery, and the
treacherous can expect to be chastised or expelled. Perfection of
character, so understood, amounts to the obliteration of indiv-
iduality and the adoption of obedience, submission and blind
acceptance as virtues.1 It is not putting it too strongly to say that, in
terms of the degree of conformity that they require of their
members, some karate organisations exhibit characteristics that are
positively totalitarian or cultish.
It is entirely natural to have a comfort zone and to want to
remain in it. This is true of students. It is true also of teachers who
1 In an interview given to the martial arts magazine Dragon Times (issue

no. 10), Higaonna Morio says: “I am pleased to say my training has
hardly changed over the years.” It is difficult to imagine any other
activity in which not changing (or developing) over a period of some
forty years might be something to feel pleased about.
may not be very confident about what they do but whose egos
prevent them from admitting ignorance or exposing themselves to
scrutiny or criticism. Many teachers are in truth capable of doing
little more than mimicking and handing on what they themselves
were taught, and the rationalisation for this lack of imagination
and creativity is the doctrine that nothing must ever change.
These facts, coupled with the inherent conservatism of Japanese
culture, have turned “traditional” or “classical” karate into some-
thing predominantly static and backward looking.
The idea that education is simply a matter of handing on the
heritage of the past unchanged and unquestioned to the next
generation is no longer as much a feature of Japanese or East
Asian culture as it once was. What is remarkable, however, is the
readiness with which so many westerners – to whom the very
idea would be absurd in any other context – have accepted this
extreme educational conservatism without question: largely, one
suspects, because it is so effectively reinforced by the grading
system that has become a universal feature of karate training.
Grading
It is as grading or stratification authorities that karate organ-
isations are at their most powerful and most stultifying. In
taking over the kyu/dan grading or ranking 1 system of judo,
Funakoshi Gichin introduced into karate an extraordinarily
effective instrument of control. No doubt he did so unwittingly:
it is hard to imagine that anyone could have foreseen the
amazing hold that grading would come to have on the minds of
karateka, especially in Europe and America. As a way of enfor-
cing conformity and discouraging dissent, grading has proved to
be as near perfect an implement of behaviour modification as
anybody could have devised. It is as if it were said to every new
1 The term “grading” tends to be used in Europe, whereas “ranking” is

preferred in the USA, possibly because the parallels between karate
and military training seem to be more prominent in people’s minds in
the USA.
student: “If you want your black belt (and you do), you have to
do the tricks that will please the people who can give it to you;
and, of course, avoid doing whatever displeases them.” It really is
as simple as that.
Grading has become one of the most consistently self-defeating
features of karate as an organised activity. It is all too often true
that karateka see their practice primarily as a journey, by way of
an intermediate series of ego-gratifications, towards the coveted
“black belt” or dan grade. A practice intended to be a way of self-
perfection can easily turn into little more than the ticking off of
items on a prescribed list in preparation for the next grading
examination. The question of who does and does not deserve
what grade is an absolutely guaranteed source of bickering and
political infighting in the average karate club. We remark again
that no one who has spent much time in contact with the karate
world can have failed to notice this.
We have referred elsewhere 1 to an episode in Ian Fleming’s
novel Goldfinger (1959) that illustrates the kind of fantasy that
was associated with the “black belt” back in the 1950s, when the
oriental martial arts had begun to establish themselves in the
West. It will do no harm to mention it again. After Oddjob, his
Korean bodyguard, has kicked a piece out of a marble mantel-
piece to intimidate James Bond, the villain Auric Goldfinger
says:
Have you ever heard of karate? No? Well that man is one of the
three in the world who have achieved the Black Belt in karate.
Karate is a branch of judo, but it is to judo what a Spandau
[machine gun] is to a catapult.
It is interesting to discover that karate is a branch of judo; it would

be interesting also to know who awarded their black belts in karate
to the only three people in the world to have achieved them.
The myth of the “black belt” and the heady brew of ignorance,
gullibility and marketing skill that created it is an abiding mystery.
1 Cowie and Dyson, Kenkyo-ha Goju Karate Kempo, p. 288.

The American servicemen who came home from Japan and

Okinawa with black belts were no doubt fit, aggressive and skilled
in hand-to-hand combat – but they were serving soldiers and
marines, after all. One can take it for granted that they knew quite
well that their skill in unarmed combat did not have all that much
to do with their being black belts; yet they were among the first to
foster the foolish myth of the “black belt” as a lethal fighting
machine endowed with powers not accessible to ordinary human
beings.1 Presumably they did so partly for commercial purposes.
Such purposes aside, it is no doubt pleasant to have folk believe
that you have returned from the East equipped with Ancient
Wisdom and Astounding Abilities. What is odd is that they found
so many people who were indeed willing to believe such things.
Ironically, the pressures of commerce and mass participation
have significantly undermined what was once one of karate’s most
useful marketing tools. If people want (and will pay for) a black
belt, then, according to the doctrine that karate teaching is only
another kind of commodity, a black belt is what they must be given;
but this, again, is to water the beer. The myth of the black belt is
certainly not as beguiling as it used to be, because so many people
have figured out that it is not in fact particularly difficult to get one
– even small children can do it. Every time an eight or nine year old
child is announced in the local paper as having been awarded a
black belt, the whole idea of the black belt as a token of mastery
becomes a little more ridiculous. Yet, as we said earlier, the first
question that a prospective student will ask is still likely to be,
“How long will it take me to get a black belt?” The only sensible
answer to this is that it isn’t the right question to be asking, but
that is not an answer that it is in the interests of the professional
instructor to give.
1 The idea that one can “be” or “become” a black belt is at least as old
as the 1960s. Perhaps the underlying idea is that the achievement of a
dan grade is not the mere acquisition of an attribute but a
transformation of the whole self into something different. Or perhaps
it’s just sloppy English.
Teaching and Learning

The generally negative view that we are taking of the contem-
porary culture of karate is in a number of respects associated with
the issues of teaching and learning that we shall discuss in this
part of the chapter. In discussing teachers and teaching we shall,
for obvious reasons, name no names, but the reader should
understand that everything we say is based on or extrapolated
from personal experience.
Class Teaching
We have mentioned already the rise of the large regimented class
as a feature of the commercialisation of karate. This is a theme that
we think it worthwhile to develop a little further.
A striking feature of the modern commercial dojo is the
inflexible and unimaginative character of so much of what goes on
inside it. Characteristically, large classes (often of children) are
taught kihon and kata by means of mechanical, drill-type rep-
etitions accompanied by only very general supervision and
explanation from the teacher. This “mass production” way of doing
things is not new. As we mentioned earlier, Itosu Anko adopted
something like it when he introduced karate into the Okinawan
school system. It seems, however, to have become established
universally in the decades after World War II. The growth of the
martial arts “industry” has certainly encouraged it, because
regimented training – classes in which everyone does the same
thing at the same time in response to words of command – is the
only way of teaching a large number of people simultaneously.
Possibly it has also to do with the militaristic cast of mind that one
runs across fairly frequently. Often the students, marching up and
down the floor to a shouted ichi-ni-san count, look like soldiers
drilling, and the instructor at the front of the class looks and sounds
like a drill sergeant. This, indeed, is an image that some instructors
seem to enjoy.
An obvious weakness of this way of doing things is that it is,
quite simply, boring. This, however, is not our primary objection.
Arguably, it is not a valid objection at all. Up to a point, after all,

overcoming boredom and perfecting one’s practice through
constant and determined repetition are ways of developing the
diligence and single-mindedness that ought to be aspects of the
martial artist’s character. Much more important than boredom are
the following considerations:
1. In a large group, individual students can receive only a

modicum of personal attention from the teacher. The teacher –
who is unlikely to know any of the students personally except at a
very superficial level – can attend only to the visible aspects of
performance and progress. Karate thus becomes a merely physical
and external activity divested entirely of “inward” aspects: a sport
or pastime like any other.
2. The excessive practice of repetitive kihon or attack-and-defence

“drills” will inevitably imprint on the student’s mind a mech-
anical, robotic habit of response and movement. Over and over
again one sees unrealistic and stylised responses to unrealistic and
stylised attacks drilled into students as “self-defence” techniques
or yakusoku [prearranged] kumite exercises. Training of this kind
does nothing more than establish conditioned reflexes that have
little or no practical value. The modern karate student needs to
understand clearly that most of what he is taught as self-defence
(usually by an instructor who has never had to defend himself in
real life) is worse than useless. This may be an unpopular truth,
but it is certainly a truth. It is a truth that quite a few people have
learnt the hard way. Teaching impractical “self-defence” is not
only pointless: it is seriously irresponsible.
3. Repetition accompanied by proper explanation and realistic

application is indispensable as a way of learning and reinforce-
ment. However, repetition that is a mere collective training in
obedience and mimicry will produce an artificial uniformity that
takes no account of physical and psychological differences
between students. One even comes across the idea that there
should be no such differences – that individuality should some-
how be swallowed up in a sea of conformity. Everyone has heard

the Japanese saying 出る釘は打たれる (deru kugi wa utareru):
“The nail that sticks up is hammered down” – i.e. it’ll be the worse
for you if you show yourself to be different from other people. No
student of karate (or anything else) should take this pernicious
maxim seriously. All it means in the context of the dojo is that the
teacher cannot be bothered, or does not feel secure enough, to
explore differences and interact with students as independent
personalities.
For these and other reasons, we maintain that karate cannot be

taught successfully to large classes. More correctly, we maintain
that what is taught as karate to large classes is only an
approximation to the real thing. Often it is no more than a
delusory ego-trip for the teacher standing at the front of the class
and barking commands. One-to-one teaching or small group
practice, where each student can be encouraged to develop
according to his own strengths and at his own pace, are infinitely
preferable to the compliant masses that one sees tramping across
the dojo floor to a count. This intimate and personal kind of
interaction is, after all, the traditional Okinawan way. By
contrast, a quasi-military regimentation that takes no account of
individual differences will not build a technical foundation
adapted to each student’s personality, physique and aptitudes. If
small group practice is not commercially viable, so much the
worse for commerce. If the student has the feeling in the dojo
that he is only a nameless entity being processed on a sort of
conveyor belt in return for a fee, he will be well advised to conclude
that there is no point in staying there.
Conservatism Again
The extreme conservatism that infects so much of contemporary
karate teaching and learning (and that has, we suspect, driven so
many people away from the traditional dojo) is a recipe for
intellectual and moral paralysis. We have suggested already that it
may reflect nothing more than the insecurities of the teacher who is
reluctant or afraid to stray from the well-trodden path. It is not
really surprising that reluctance to deviate from the received way of
doing things should be so prevalent. The social system of karate is,
on the whole, a highly effective self-policing mechanism. The
rebel or maverick is likely to to incur a great deal of reproach and
animosity, and it is much easier to abandon the practice of indep-
endent thought in favour of a safe and comfortable conformity.
Nonetheless, the prospective student should at all costs avoid the
teacher who insists on unquestioning obedience – who will never
let his students do anything apart from exactly what he has shown
them: who is unwilling to let them think for themselves or
question what they are taught. Obviously, beginners need to learn
by simple imitation, and it is right that they should. But what
next? If there is no next – if all the student is ever allowed to do is
reproduce the transmitted orthodoxy down to the last inch – that
is surely because the teacher sees his task as being the production
of replicas of himself (or of his own teacher) rather than self-
governing individuals. Contrary to what karate students are so
often taught, perfection of character does not lie in slavish sub-
mission to authority and tradition. It lies in self-reliance, confident
and mature individuality, and a rational faith in the soundness of
one’s own judgment.
For the same reason, students should avoid the teacher who
will not permit cross-training: who insists on total commitment to
the “style” that he teaches and regards any wish to look outside it
as a kind of betrayal. This may look and feel and sound like
loyalty, but it is not. It is a kind of foolish territoriality that has no
place in the world of mature human beings. All arts have a good
deal to learn from other arts, and anyone who wants his students
to believe that all the answers are to be found in one place is not
worth having as a teacher.
Also to be avoided is the teacher who exerts control over his
students by means of a grading system. Teachers of a certain
kind notoriously use periodic gradings as a way of keeping the
money flowing in (because each grading examination involves a

fee and the prospect of the next grading keeps the students
hungry). Far worse is the teacher who uses grades to enforce
compliance and conformity by exploiting the power to give or
withhold them. Grading should never be used as a way of
rewarding obedience and punishing independence, and students
should be careful not to allow anyone to use coloured belts as
instruments for the suppression of their independence. It is all
too easy to let this happen. Gradings have no importance unless
they contribute something genuine to the student’s under-
standing of his own growth: his own self-creation. No one needs
to win approval by conforming to someone else’s definition of
what or who he should be.
Contemporary karate teaching suffers chronically from the idea
that respect for tradition is the same thing as a refusal to depart
from what was said and done in the past. Teachers who are
trapped, and who want their students to be trapped, in a change-
less and unquestioned system of dogma, may say – and may
genuinely believe – that their attitude is one of loyalty and
devotion to the purity of their art. It is not. It is the attitude of
someone who, for whatever reason, is refusing to change and
grow, and refusing to let his students change and grow. Having
many years of experience is not the same thing as having one
year’s experience many times.
The Fraudulent Teacher
It is, of course, true that bad teachers – teachers who are “bad” in
the sense of being unable to accommodate the ideas of change
and growth and independence – may well be honest people with
honourable motives who are simply the victims of miscon-
ception and flawed understanding. There is no doubt, however,
that the growth of the martial arts “industry” – especially during
and after the “Bruce Lee boom” – has produced a significant
number of teachers who are neither honest nor honourable.
Anyone who studies the (surprisingly interesting) subject of
martial arts fraud will come across familiar patterns of untruth,

distortion and misinformation, rather in the way that anyone
who studies the phenomena of schizophrenia will come across
the same recurrent patterns of delusion. There are teachers who
make patently ridiculous claims for themselves: who tell you
that they can summon up the mysterious “chi” force of the
universe and by means of it knock out an opponent without
touching him; that they have esoteric knowledge of techniques
too deadly to be disclosed; that they can disable or kill an enemy
with a single secret touch – and so on and so forth. There are
teachers who have grossly exaggerated their training history, or
simply lied about it on the assumption (all too often justified)
that no one will check; or who falsely claim to have served in
elite military units 1 or to have had other kinds of special and
unusual experience. There are long-established martial arts
teachers whose claims to have a Japanese lineage, or to have
trained for many years in Japan, have been exposed as
falsehoods. Because claims to have served in the armed forces or
to have studied with well-known Japanese teachers are
nowadays so easy to authenticate (or disprove), several
apparently respectable martial artists have in recent times been
exposed as impostors. It is extremely foolish to make statements
about yourself that can so easily be shown to be untrue, but this
does not seem to deter charlatans and Walter Mitty types from
doing it.2
1 Exponents of this particular fantasy tend also to say: “... but on

missions so sensitive that my very existence would be officially
denied.” The reader should understand that this statement is in every
single case a lie. No exceptions.
2 Beware of the teacher who tells you that his sensei kept no records or
that all his certificates were lost in a fire, eaten by the dog or
destroyed by his ex-wife. For one thing, the Japanese are meticulous –
not to say obsessive – record-keepers; for another, it is almost always
possible to replace lost or damaged certificates. Of no one now
teaching is it likely to be true that all the records of his training were
destroyed in the war, though one can certainly remember people who
said that they were. Generally speaking, one should always be
In this context, prospective students should be aware of the

typical use made by dishonest teachers of half-truth and misleading
suggestion: suppressio veri and suggestio falsi. Lies can be told with
silence as well as with words. “I studied with Nanigashi Sensei”1
may indeed be true in a sense – but possibly only in the sense that
the speaker attended a couple of Nanigashi Sensei’s seminars back
in the 1980s, or regularly watches his videos. Without actually
being told an outright falsehood, the student is left to jump to the
conclusion that his teacher was Nanigashi Sensei’s lifelong disciple.
One often finds claims of discipleship supported by what looks like
photographic evidence. It should be remembered that anybody can
have his photograph taken with a famous teacher. A photograph is
not necessarily evidence of anything more than that he once stood
next to a famous teacher for a few seconds. Photographs taken in
Japan “outside the Master’s dojo” may have been taken on a
package holiday visit to a local temple.
The prospective student should be aware also that there are
now quite a number of organisations that, in return for a fee, will
supply a “rank recognition certificate” to anyone who applies for
one without making the slightest attempt to verify the
applicant’s credentials. Such entities – they seem to be part-
icularly common in the United States, though there are European
examples also – often have splendid sounding titles (The
International So-and-So Association, or The World Federation of
Such-and-Such) or Japanese names (anyone with a smattering of
Budoese can make one up).2 However resounding the name, they
suspicious of stories that seem designed to be uncheckable (e.g. all the

records were destroyed; or: my teacher made me swear never to
disclose his name).
1 Perhaps we should make it clear that there is no such person –
“Nanigashi” (何某) is “So-and-So.”
2 Sometimes this is done with pleasing but unintended results. There is
a legend (we do not know whether it is true or not) that an instructor
innocent of Japanese called his organisation Seidokan, intending to
mean “true way house” ( 正道館 ), but wrote the word on his
documents as 性道館, which is “sex way house.” Pretending to know
always turn out to be less grand and less authoritative than they
sound. Organisations of this kind are not, in a strict legal sense,
fraudulent. There is, as far as we know, no law against setting up
an association with a fancy name and no object other than to part
fools from their money by selling them worthless memberships
and diplomas. The student should not, however, take seriously a
teacher who produces a rank recognition certificate issued by such
an organisation. The important question, if rank is important at
all, is not who recognises a rank (because, after all, anyone can do
that), but who awarded it in the first place.
The Narcissist
It is easy to assume that martial arts frauds are no more than
confidence tricksters: snake-oil salesmen whose project is to sell to
the public whatever the public is witless enough to buy. Most of
them probably are. In the light of our own observation, however,
we are convinced that the martial arts world also has a substantial
lunatic fringe of which the newcomer ought to be made aware. It is
said, and perhaps it is true, that if you tell the same lies often
enough you come eventually to believe them yourself. It is certainly
true in our experience that some apparent swindlers seem actually
to believe the fantasies that they have invented about themselves. It
is hard for ordinary people to suppose that anyone could genuinely
persuade himself that a wholly fictitious curriculum vitae – his own
imaginary version of himself – is real; yet the authors of this book
have come across individuals of whom this does appear to be true,
or of whom it is at any rate true that their fantasies have become so
tightly integrated into their personalities as to be no longer
explicable as merely cynical lies.
The peculiar psychology of such people is no doubt a PhD
dissertation waiting to be written. They seem to be actuated not
so much by material greed as by ego-needs associated with their
own insecurities. Possibly in some fundamental sense they have
more Japanese than you do is a pretty nearly perfect way of making a

fool of yourself.
experienced real life as disappointment or frustration, and now

find comfort and security in acting out a fantasy that enables them
to believe that they are powerful and successful and admired. The
kind of teacher whom we can perhaps call the neurotic fraud
wants acolytes or disciples rather than students. He wants to see
in them dependence and submission, not confidence and self-
reliance, because dependence and submission on the part of
others are what minister to the needs of his own ego. Inherently
lacking self-worth, he longs to be a figure of importance: he
wants to be the Master.
It is easy to be contemptuous of the childish and regressive
behaviour of such people. It is perhaps better to recognise that, as
people suffering from a recognisable species of personality
disorder, 1 they are more to be pitied than blamed. Above all,
however, they are to be avoided by anyone who wants to under-
take the serious and beneficial study of karate. The prospective
student should steer well clear of the teacher who (for instance)
claims extraordinary powers but will not demonstrate them
(because they are too “dangerous” or “advanced” or because the
student is “not ready”) or who will demonstrate them only with the
assistance of co-operative “true believers.” Be assured that he
cannot really levitate or knock people down without touching
them, or read minds or or kill someone with a magic touch. He
can’t, because no one can.
There is absolutely no reason why one should not ask a teacher
for proof of his credentials – provided, of course, that one does so
politely. People who are genuine will usually be proud and happy
to oblige. On the other hand, beware of the teacher who lays claim
1 Most obviously from what psychologists call Narcissistic Personality

Disorder, or NPD for short. The question of how this and related
disorders arise is a difficult and contested one, but their incidence
and symptomatology is well documented. We suspect that it would
be possible to develop the thesis that the martial arts tend to attract
people – both as teachers and students – who suffer from a range of
low-level psychological disorders; but this would have to be the
subject of a different book, written by someone else.
to an exotic biography that he cannot substantiate, or who

becomes truculent or evasive when asked to substantiate it. He
almost certainly hasn’t been involved in secret military or
espionage operations (very few people are, and those who are
probably don’t tell the world about it). If he doesn’t understand
more than a few words and stock phrases of Japanese, he didn’t
spend years in a secret Buddhist temple at the foot of Mount Fuji
studying with an old master of whom no one else has heard. And
so on and so forth. It is always a good idea to remain in the world
of sane and honest folk, and surprisingly easy to stray into
another kind of world altogether.
The Power of Wishful Thinking

One of the most remarkable aspects of fraud in the martial arts
world is the extent to which obviously dishonest and dubious
teachers are nonetheless sustained in what they do by students
who allow themselves to be imposed upon – sometimes to an
extent extraordinary to the outsider. Students are often prepared
to deny or ignore the most glaring evidence that they are being
taken for a ride. Anyone who wishes to confirm this truth of
experience by their own investigations will find it very easy to do
so. Even educated and intelligent people seem prepared to
swallow the most lamentable nonsense if a martial arts teacher
(especially a Chinese or Japanese teacher) declares it to be true, or
if they can be persuaded that it is part of Mysterious Eastern
Wisdom.
Why should this be so? Why do people go on handing over
their money – and entrusting what is presumably an important
part of their lives – to someone who is plainly a cheat or a
fantasist? Part of the answer to this, we suggest, is that students
are imbued from the first with an unhealthily deferential attitude
to their teachers. Unhesitating obedience and unquestioning
loyalty are often represented – not without reason – as
traditional aspects of oriental culture, and these are, of course,
exactly the virtues that the teacher who does not want his
credentials to be too closely examined will try to inculcate in his

students. It is strangely easy to sell this doctrine of submission
even to intelligent adults. Westerners who outside the dojo
exhibit the most robust and healthy scepticism towards authority
will – even literally – grovel on the floor in the dojo and believe
themselves unworthy to question the teacher.
We think it clear also that students’ denial of the obvious arises
from ego-needs of their own: from the wish to believe that they are
disciples of a Wise and Powerful Master whose wisdom and power
will be communicated to them if they wait long enough and
practise diligently enough. On the other side of this co-dependency
relationship is the teacher whose self-esteem depends upon his
students’ belief that he has great mysteries to reveal if and when
they prove themselves worthy. At the most basic level, no one
wants to be the first to point out that the emperor has no clothes.
Even the teacher’s apparent weaknesses and moral failings can be
perceived and justified as parts of the process by which one’s faith
is confirmed. He gets drunk and lies to us; not, however, because
he is a drunkard and a liar, but because he is testing our loyalty.
There is a parallel here with the mentality of a certain kind of
religious believer. Why does the Lord not return? Why does He
allow us to suffer evil and persecution? Because He is testing and
strengthening us. The more we are disappointed, the stronger our
faith becomes, and the greater the virtue of our continuing to
believe. Credo quia absurdum est.
It is natural enough to want to belong to an in-group or a
“family.” It is natural also, at least for a certain type of personality,
to want to place oneself in the hands of a trusted authority figure.
This is precisely the kind of dependent and exploitable personality
that makes “cults” possible. The power of wishful thinking, here as
in other kinds of relationship, is very great. It is easy to persuade
yourself, even in the face of clear evidence to the contrary, that
someone really is what you want him to be. The people who suffer
most from the activities of fraudulent or deluded teachers are the
students whom they have persuaded to believe in them. To
discover that you have studied for years under someone who has
lied to you is a very destructive experience: so destructive, indeed,
that some people choose to go on believing obvious lies in order to
avoid the pain of accepting the truth. In various ways, peer
pressure, individual needs and personality traits, or “the emperor’s
new clothes” phenomenon can lead students to pretend – even, less
explicably, to convince themselves – that their teacher has knocked
them down or controlled them without touching them or that he
has other wonderful and mysterious powers.1 We have seen this
kind of collective delusion many times, and it is well documented
in sources that are publicly available. It is conceivable also that, in
some cases, apparently fraudulent teachers do really come to
believe that they can perform near-miraculous feats – because their
students so often tell them that they can and shield them from the
light of reality. If there are limits to the human capacity for self-
deception, they are very broad ones.

A good deal has happened in the century since karate began its
migration from the peasant kingdom of Okinawa to the
comparatively sophisticated culture of Japan and thence to the
rest of the world. Generally speaking, the art as practised
throughout the contemporary world is radically different from
what its founders seem to have intended, and this is a fact that,
rightly or wrongly, we think deeply regrettable in most respects.
No doubt the reader will have formed the impression that we
1 It can, of course, also lead students to allow teachers to exploit and

abuse them in crude and obvious ways. In 2011 a previously well-
respected English karate teacher and author was prosecuted for, and
pleaded guilty to, sexually assaulting a twelve-year old girl student.
One can only speculate about the complex interrelations of fear, awe,
submissiveness and domination that can precipitate such situations.
The parallel that suggests itself is with child-molesting clergy. The
relation between a karate teacher and his students often bears a –
completely unhealthy – resemblance to that between a priest and his
flock, and contains the same potentialities for abuse of trust.
regard the history of karate as being the history of a deterior-

ation. This impression is entirely accurate. However elevated
their motives, the early teachers who made such efforts to
disseminate their art did so at the cost of divesting it, in the long
run, of almost everything apart from its external and physical
aspects: of almost everything, in other words, except its most
superficial and least important features.
What most people think of and practise as karate nowadays
seems more like kickboxing than anything else, with things like
kata as annoying distractions from the fun and satisfaction of
fighting. The perception of karate that the man in the street has is of
just another contact sport, pursued in peculiar clothes and accom-
panied by a good deal of rather absurd-looking etiquette and
posturing. The perception of karate as a sport now prevails almost
as much in the East as it does in the West. A Zen way of self-
perfection has become a superficial game; commercialisation and
the formal organisation of karate into a mass-participation activity
have depersonalised it and infected it with incessant political
squabbles; cultural conservatism has fossilised “traditional” or
“classical” karate into an art that seems incapable of development
and innovation; frauds and charlatans abound, and bring discredit
upon the heads of honest teachers. Far from enabling the karateka
to overcome the tyranny and destructiveness of ego, karate seems
all too often to bring out the worst in those who teach and practise
it, and to attract a particular kind of neurotic, insecure, ego-driven
personality. These are conclusions to which long and sometimes
unpleasant experience has led us.
If all you want is sport and competition or vigorous exercise
once or twice a week, good luck to you. In that case, none of the
things we have said will matter to you. To those who value the
ethical ideals of karate, however, these things matter a great deal.
As far as those ideals are concerned, the authors of this book have
over the years found their way to a simple conclusion. The future
of karate does not lie with celebrity teachers, large and prosperous
associations and glitzy events with big trophies for the winners to
take home. If the true spirit of karate is to be kept alive, it will be

kept alive in humility and obscurity. It will be kept alive by
anonymous minorities and individuals practising the art for its
own sake: practising with imagination, creativity and commit-
ment in small dojo away from the temptations of money and the
exercise of petty power, and with the advice of Funakoshi Gichin
always in mind: “Spiritual development is paramount; technical
skills are merely means to the end.”
道場のみの空手と思ふな
Karate goes beyond the dojo
空手の修行は一生である
Karate training is for life
FURTHER READING
Alexander, George Okinawa: Island of Karate (Yamazato
Publications, 1991).
Bishop, Mark Okinawan Karate: Teachers, Styles and Secret
Techniques (A & C Black, 1999).
Clarke, Michael Budo Masters: Paths to a Far Mountain (Paul
H. Crompton, 2010).
Cleary, Thomas Training the Samurai Mind: A Bushido
Sourcebook (Shambhala, 2009).
Cook, Harry Shotokan Karate: A Precise History. (Dragon
Books, 2001).
Deshimaru, Taisen The Zen Way to the Martial Arts (Penguin,
1991).
Draeger, Donn Martial Arts and Ways of Japan
(Weatherhill, 3 vols, 1990; 1996; 1998).
Egami, Shigeru The Way of Karate: Beyond Technique
(Littlehampton, 1976).
― The Heart of Karate-do (Kodansha, 2000).
Funakoshi, Gichin Karate-do: My Way of Life (Kodansha, 1981).
― Karate-do Kyohan (Kodansha, 1991).
― Karate-do Nyomon (Kodansha, 1994).
― The Twenty Guiding Precepts of Karate
(Kodansha, 2003).
Higaonna, Morio The History of Karate: Okinawan Goju Ryu
(Dragon Books, 1996).
Hokama, Tetsuhiro 100 Masters of Okinawan Karate (Ozata

Print, 2005).
Kerr, George Okinawa: The History of an Island People
(Tuttle, 1958; rev. ed. 2000).
Kim, Richard The Weaponless Warriors: An Informal History
of Okinawan Karate (Black Belt Communic-
ations, 1974).
Kinjo, Akio Karate Denshin Roku (A True Record of the
Transmission of Karate) (Okinawa, Tosho
Center, 1999).
Lowry, Dave Sword and Brush: Spirit of the Martial Arts
(Shambhala, 1995).
― In the Dojo: A Guide to the Rituals and
Etiquette of the Japanese Martial Arts
(Shambhala, 2006).
― The Karate Way: Discovering the Spirit of
Practice (Shambhala, 2009).
McCarthy, Patrick Bubishi: The Classic Manual of Combat
(Tuttle, 2008).
― Ancient Okinawan Martial Arts (2 vols,
Tuttle, 1999).
― Classical Kata of Okinawan Karate (Black
Belt Communications, 1987).
Mattson, George E. Uechi Ryu Karate Do (Peabody Publishing
Company, 1997).
Morgan, Forrest E. Living the Martial Way (Barricade Books,
1992).
Motobu, Choki Karate: My Art (International Ryukyu
Karate Research Group, 2002).
― Okinawan Kempo (Rising Sun, 2007).
Nagamine, Shoshin The Essence of Okinawan Karate-do
(Tuttle, 1976).
― Tales of Okinawa’s Great Masters (Tuttle,
2000).
Nitobe, Inazo Bushido: The Soul of Japan (Shambhala,

2005).
Ohtsuka Hironori Wado Ryu Karate (English translation;
Rising Sun Productions, 1997),
Oyama, Masutatsu This is Karate (Ward Lock, 1975).
Yamaguchi, Gogen Goju Ryu: Karate-do Kyohan (Rising Sun
Productions, 2007).
INDEX
American Kempo/Kenpo, 76–89
Class teaching, 125–127
Commercialisation, 114–117
Compensation culture, 117–118
Conservatism, 121–122, 127–129
Ethics, 106–118
Fraud, 129–136
Goju Ryu, 23–35
Grading, 122–124, 128–129
Historiography, problems of, 104
Isshin Ryu, 62–70
Karate:
Okinawan origins of, 1–18
Migration to Japan of, 19–23
Origin of the word, 6, 21–22
Kickboxing, 99–103
Kyokushinkai, 35–42
Media, the, influence on karate of, 108–109, 112–113
Naha te, 13–16
Narcissism, 132–134
Okinawa te, Chinese influences on, 5–6, 18
Okinawa, history of, 1–6
Organisations, nature and effects of, 118–124
Politics, prevalence in karate of, 120–121
Shito Ryu, 43–49

Shotokan, 49–57
Shuri te, 7–13
Sport karate, 110–112
Taekwondo, 94–99
Teaching and learning, 125–136
Tomari te, 16–17
Uechi Ryu, 70–75
Urban/USA Goju, 89–94
Wado Ryu, 57–62
Wishful thinking, 134–136

A Short History of Karate

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A SHORT HISTORY OF KARATE

KENKYO-HA GOJU KARATE KEMPO KAI

Okinawa honto, or 沖縄島, Okinawa jima), that the history of karate

A map showing the size and location of

During the fourteenth century,1 as a result of conquest, allian-

1 For the reader’s convenience we shall almost always use “European”

were unstable and never entirely peaceful. Hokuzan, in the

1 For a detailed social and political history of Okinawa see George

Okinawa Island, showing the locations of

1 To give an idea of scale, “[t]he whole Shuri/Naha/Tomari triangle is

Ryukyu kingdom was hardly a major power. To all intents and

1 The “thirty-six families of Kume” (久米三十六姓) may be an explan-

various “Crane” styles associated with Fujian province. After Sho

1 For this important event in Okinawan history see Stephen Turnbull,

ments as improvised weapons. These weapons include rice-flails,

1 See Donn F. Draeger and Robert W. Smith, Comprehensive Asian

Sakugawa that he study at Kumemura with a Chinese martial

1 There is some question as to whether there ever was a “southern”

One of Sakugawa Kanga’s most distinguished students was a

likeness of Sakugawa is open to doubt; it looks suspiciously modern

to the Matsumura line of transmission).1 He is said to have learnt

1 Hakutsuru ( 白 鶴 ) is “White Crane”; the kata was composed by

The importance of Matsumura “Bushi” to karate history lies

1 Founded by Chibana Choshin (知花 朝信) (1885 – 1969). Some sources

he began his martial training with Matsumura at the age of fifteen.

Itosu Anko. This image is enlarged from a group

and to promote its practice by large organised masses of students.

Higaonna (Higashionna) Kanryo (東恩納寛量 ) (1853–1916)2 may be

1 This letter is printed in full in Nakasone Genwa’s Karate-do Taikan (空

born into a relatively prosperous commercial family in the

In March 1873 Higaonna migrated to Fuzhou, possibly taking

1 I.e. in the years immediately before the Japanese annexation of

Chinese pronunciation) of Higaonna’s own name, ‘Kanryo.’

Higaonna returned to Okinawa in the 1880s and began to teach

Xie Zhongxiang, Higaonna Kanryo’s

1 Kyoda Juhatsu is the founder of a relatively little-known version of

fortable position of being a satellite or tributary of both Japan, as

It was in conjunction with the dissemination of Karate to Japan that

1 The minutes of this meeting are printed as an appendix to Toyama

impression is of a public relations exercise intended to dissociate

This is a photograph of the committee established in 1937 after the 1936

1 Nakasone, a karateka himself, though not a prominent one, was

that it ought to be changed. After some discussion, it was agreed

There are many schools or styles of karate at present; I think we

This aspiration to unity has not been realised or even approached.

one another – multiplied during the twentieth century and may

The Larger Schools

Goju Ryu (剛柔流)

physiology that he was later to put to use in devising the routine

On his return to Okinawa, Miyagi began to teach a synthesis of

Yamaguchi Gogen in later life

Kai ( 立 命 館 大 学 空 手 研 究 会 ) (Ritsumeikan University Karate

The badge designed by Yamaguchi Gogen; the kanji

A religious mystic of striking appearance and great personal

1 He is also often commonly referred to as “the Cat” (Neko; 猫), partly,

least because of his extraordinary training methods (the images of

Taki renshu (滝練習) – waterfall practice – by

1 It is implied in his autobiography, Karate: Goju-Ryu by the Cat

breathing is the forcible exhalation of air against a closed or partially

kata called Tensho with the intention of modifying and balancing

1 Hakutsuru ( 白鶴 ) is “White Crane”; the kata was composed by

1 Founded by Chibana Choshin (知花朝信) (1885 – 1969). Some sources

Kai ( 立命館大学空手研究会 ) (Ritsumeikan University Karate

has in Europe. Its founder, Shimabuku Tatsuo (島袋龍夫) (1908–

Chatan Yara no Sai ( 北谷屋良の釵 ) (learnt from Taira