The Future and the Fullness of Karate: Rokudan Essay originally published July 11th, 2018
By Andrew Statz
The future of Karate is an important subject that deserves consideration from all practitioners of karate. Karate as stated by most traditional martial artists means ‘kara’ (empty) and ‘te’ (hand) as the two Chinese characters, and can accordingly be translated most literally as ‘empty hand’. There exists another interpretation, however, one recently described by Shihan Mitsunori Kobayashi. According to Kobayashi, ‘kun’ the character that forms the first participle, can more accurately be described as ‘fullness’. Fullness, therefore, is the primary meaning of karate-do: it is an all-encompassing way of life, a method of instruction, an embodiment of a principle that is boundless. This might sound like artistic language, but the fullness of karate properly perceived is artistic: its real definition is not beyond expression, other than to say it means everything.
Regrettably, the karate we see in movies barters the metaphysical for the physical. In popular film, karate is a means to an end: a way to end the bad guy, or the form used by the bad guy to hurt the good. In the public imagination, ‘karate’ certainly doesn’t mean the fullness of life; to state this would be a topic met with derision. The multifaceted art that is karate is instead presented as utilitarian, at best. The reasons for the simplistic analysis given to the public is that it is most easily understood as another fighting style. Poor PR, the media’s ‘shock-and-awe’ movie depictions, and the prevalence of clubs that practice nothing other than ‘sport karate’, or kick and punch, are all factors that contribute to a bastardized understanding of what ‘karate’ is. Any proper analysis of karate will refer to something much broader and inclusive: from the ‘kun’, or fullness, one arrives at the suffix ‘do’, yet another reference to a way of life, karatedo. The history, the millions of individuals who presently train, and today’s youth are the future of karatedo.
Before karate appeared in the Okinawan Islands there was a popular theory that Bodiharma had travelled to China and brought with him a form of the martial arts along with Buddhism. The origins of karate in Japan in the Ryukyuan Islands with either Anko Itosu or Gichin Funakoshi, the latter acknowledged for spreading the martial arts in Japanese school system are obscured by time. Master Makoto Gima was the student of Gichin Funakoshi and learned from him his karate skills. He learned his throwing techniques for example and modified them to suit his judo background. Funakoshi was training secretly in karate because karate was banned on the islands, but after it was legalized, he began teaching in Japan. Funakoshi lived during the Meiji period when major scientific, technological and cultural changes shook the fabric of life throughout Japan. Legalized karate underwent a name change from “Chinese hand” to “empty hand”. The person practising karate not only had no weapons but struggled with a distinctly Zen Buddhist idea of perfecting oneself. Individuals such as Funakoshi put on demonstrations and as popularity grew he became a regular instructor at the university level in Japan. Numbers grew.
The origins of karate in Canada were the same as many other countries around the world. Instructors were either sent out from Japan or originated in Canada like Masami Tsuruoka who was born in Cumberland, British Columbia. The Tsuruoka family was placed in an Internment Camp in Tashimi, BC during World War 2. After the war he moved back to Japan where he studied Chito-ryu karate under Dr. Tsuyoshi Chitose and received his first black belt. When he returned to Canada he helped found the National Karate Association and opened a dojo in Toronto. With over 10,000 members, the NKA has many styles of Karate including Goju-ryu, Shito-ryu, Shotokan, Wado-ryu and Chito-ryu, the founding style in Canada. Shihan Hidetada Narumi moved to Canada and taught karate throughout the lower mainland during the 1980’s. Today many people are looking back and studying karate’s history. Hopefully their studies will go beyond critical analysis of techniques, styles and tournaments to what karatedo really means.
It must be noted that specific individuals, Itosu, Funakoshi, and Master Gima provided both the impetus for the development of karate and for its initial curriculum. Karate was built by the ancient masters to exemplify the “habitual acts for physical violence,” which transformed into the core curriculum of large karate organizations today. But they also realized how one must live one’s daily life. Karate if studied properly will affect everything that one does including what one’s choices are. The recent Olympics rejuvenated “sport karate” and brought many opportunities for individuals and organizations draw on this impetus. What directions that result from this are not known, but it is exciting.
The history of karate as it appeared on the Okinawan Island gives a glimpse at the development of a philosophy. In order for karate to survive, something of the all-encompassing ‘fullness’ that is the ‘kun’ will need to be revitalized. Youth in clubs are eager to learn: perhaps they sense the deficit of value that is presented to them today in culture. There is a thirst to know something of an art that can inform and shape an individual and place him as a participant in a rich history. Accordingly, senseis increasingly have to grapple with a culture that privileges quick fixes and flashy sensationalism in sport – but this, undeniably, is not sustainable. Those individuals that are lost in a club to such siren calls inevitably do return, seeking the fullness that karate-do implicitly promises. One way of fostering that connection to the immortality of karate-do is to impart the value in teaching. Whether it’s a green belt who you ask to help teach the whole class, a small group or partner one on one, all senior belts should be asked to teach. Teaching promotes learning, develops self-esteem and enables senior belts the opportunity verbalize the technical abilities they know to be true and have worked for them. As all Karate instructors will know well, teaching may seem to ostensibly be to help the student, but it is the teacher who is taught as well: even inferior ability practitioners can make the best teachers, even if they cannot model the technique as well as others. Indeed, handicaps and deficiency can teach students how to make the best of what they are born with. Provided that real attempts at exercise are made, and the student is not simply lazy, the less able-bodied student can become confident in the abilities they do have. Nor is this simply a legacy of the young: the old can equally find karate a teacher, as the kicks that once came easily will have to be substituted for other strengths. Karate training requires acceptance, as much as it pushes you to survive and adapt. Harnessing one’s strengths, as all karate teachers will understand, is a developing skill and it is a good idea for the chief instructor to relinquish control so he can supervise others in various teaching situations. Over time when tasked with instruction senior belts will develop communication skill confidence and be able to not only help the less capable but improve themselves.
The easy counterargument, one heard too often perhaps, is the lament that things were simpler once. There is a danger of romanticizing the past of karate, where the ‘fullness’ of the art could be witnessed by those even who did not practice it. While it is undeniably the case that a homogenous island hundreds of years ago experienced the ‘way’ of karate in a manner that would be foreign to us, it is crucial to establish that karate never ends. In the modern world, clubs come and clubs fold, but there is always someone who wants to keep the mantle burning. If even the relatively few clubs that practice traditional karate exist, there will be those who appreciate it and see it for the art that is worth preserving. The challenge of keeping this legacy open for the modern world bears its own challenges. How does one maintain the ‘kun’, an all-compassing club in a twenty-first century world that highlights distractions and juggling multiple jobs at once? Financing is another burden facing small clubs. Spending money is easy. Where to spend money is harder. How does one get back any returns for what is being spent? Are marketing and advertising necessary for the club to grow or does word of mouth, emails, texting and making good use of the internet important. Questions such as these threaten to dilute the philosophy that is behind karate – clearly, money cannot be the only criterion for running a club. Where does one acquire the expertise to not only run a club, but teach, collect fees, set up tournaments, follow the prescribed curriculum and creatively develop new curriculum, counsel students and adults? And how is all that to be accomplished by one person, two, three or more when the pay is low or non-existent and the people training need to be helped to reach their potential. This requires commitment. It demands a lot of thought and work. What sort of fullness can be gleaned when karate is treated as an hour long session, ending when one leaves the dojo? The future of karate can rectify some of these problems by emphasizing teaching. As stated previously, the lineage of passing on to a junior member or members the responsibility of continuing to teach karate is vital. Not only must they teach karate they must pass on the karatedo, the way of life. Teaching techniques is the easy part. Having karate be part of your life and life’s work is a step few people make or even understand because it requires commitment. Today it seems that commitment to anything is unusual. Commitment to sending emails out prior to a grading, a Shiai or a special event is always a challenge, but often there are few that can do this with a minimum of expertise.
Ultimately, a club survives from the students attending and immersing themselves in the fullness of karate. Many parents, sitting behind and observing or participating themselves, recognize the dynamic changes that can occur when karate is integrated in their children’s lives. The diversity of interests that are available to students can be a challenge: other sports, work and most importantly schooling act as both a deterrent and an aid to a young karateka’s progress in karate. It is my experience that these interests come and go: I have seen many karateka return to karate training. This is the surest proof that karate offers something more, something akin to a lifeblood that sustains the participant. As stated before, karate can be translated as an empty hand – but as I have been attempting to describe, the fullness is the gift that it offers all of us – if we are only willing to engage with it.