Get a New Wife

by Dave Lowry

I was sitting with a karate sensei in his dojo one afternoon, visiting with him, when he was approached by a fellow who had come to watch the class that day. The fellow said he was interested in taking up karate, but he wondered if training might present a problem for him. He was a marathon runner, he explained, and he spent several hours a week running and travelling to races. Would karate practice interfere with that?

Another time, an acquaintance commented to me that he wanted to begin studying the art of aikido. But as an underpaid schoolteacher, he wasn't sure he could afford the club dues of $30 a month that were levied by the dojo he wanted to join. It is pertinent to add in this case that this acquaintance was a smoker who easily spent more than $30 a month on his habit.

When I encounter these kinds of people, I am always reminded of a falconer I once heard about. Falconry, of course, is the art of raising and training birds of prey-hawks, falcons, and even eagles-to hunt. It is a very, very old art, one that requires a tremendous amount of study into the life and behaviors of these birds. It also demands an amazing patience to tame them and to accommodate their highly strung natures. Falconers typically spend several hours a day with their birds. This falconer met a man who said he wanted to take up falconry but he was afraid that his wife would not adapt well to having a fierce-looking raptor as a permanent addition to their backyard. What should he do? The falconer's reply: "Get a new wife."

It is, I suppose, indicative of our modern civilization that, if I may paraphrase Churchill, so many wish to have so much while expending so little. We have parents who want to raise perfect children while simultaneously pursuing careers that prevent them from even seeing their offspring for more than a few minutes a day. We have single people who want to establish meaningful, lifelong relationships and who think they can do that by placing a few ostensibly witty lines in a personal ad in a newspaper. And more to the point, we have would--be budoka who expect to reap the benefits of the martial Ways without any real sacrifice. They are, all of them, going to be disappointed.

The truth is, raising good children demands enormous commitment and sacrifices. Healthy, loving relationships cannot be founded on the basis of snappy advertisements. They take time and a willingness to compromise and grow. To make the budo a Way of life requires precisely the same. Those prospective entrants to the Way who think they can make any kind of headway along its path without sacrifices are fooling themselves.

The falconer's advice on getting a new wife sounds harsh. It was not, I think we can assume, entirely serious. But his point was that an involved and difficult discipline like falconry requires some pretty uncommon dedication. The fellow who asked him the question about taking it up might not actually have had to give up his wife if he wanted to be a falconer. But if he wished to involve himself in that kind of art, he would have to be prepared to make some significant changes in his life. This is because, contrary to popular and frequently voiced opinions, not all the avocations that are available to us are alike. It has been convenient for many martial arts teachers and other such promoters to present the budo as a sort of pastime, a hobby that can be approached exactly as we would bowling or bridge. One can, these types suggest, go down to the neighborhood dojo a couple of nights a week for a quick "workout" and then leave it behind when one walks out the door. In this regard, martial arts training is envisioned as being similar to joining the types of health clubs or fitness centers we see advertised everywhere. The budo, however, are not like weight lifting and aerobics classes. The goals pursued in the dojo are markedly different from those of the local health or fitness center.

The budo--very difficult to describe in their entirety since we have nothing analogous to them in the West--are a multifaceted discipline. They encompass a rigorous, extremely demanding physical effort, a concerted dedication to old and quite often foreign cultural values, and a willingness to submit to a method of teaching and transmission of knowledge that are wholly unlike the ways to which we are accustomed. Just learning to move across the floor on one's knees, a standard training exercise in aikido, for example, takes years to do correctly and without a lot of discomfort. Concepts of the budo at its higher levels require a serious expenditure of time and energy. No one with less than a decade of constant training and thinking could hope to understand even the basics of some of these concepts. Then, too, because the budo are not native to our country, those qualified to teach them at their upper levels are few and far between. Travel to different cities or to Japan is a must for most budoka at some stage of their training.

All of these factors must be considered by the budoka. None of them are the kind of considerations that are weighed in making an informed decision to take up softball or weight lifting, or any of the more conventional avocations in which those around us may choose to become involved. The budo are not an ordinary pastime. Those who follow them cannot be ordinary, either. So to that marathoner who worried that karate might interfere with his running, I would say, yes, it will. It is the nature of a budo, like karate or any of the rest of them. And if you cannot give the martial arts the time and attention they deserve, the time and attention necessary to make them a meaningful part of your life, then both the budo and you will be better off if you leave them alone. To the fellow who spent money on his smoking habit without complaint but who was hesitant to make an equal investment in aikido training, I cannot imagine, frankly, what to say. Someone with that sense of priorities is likely, I'm afraid, to find that the cost of the budo life is far too high for him to pay, no matter what its price

1. Shoshin wasureru nakare (Ishi)

Never forget the spirit of first beginning (Will/Determination)

2. Reigi okotaru nakare (Dotoku)

Never neglect courtesy and etiquette (Moral Virtue)

3. Doryuku okaturu nakare (Haten)

Never neglect effort (Growth/Development)

4. Joshin kakeru nakare

Never lose common sense (Common Sense)

5. Wa midasu nakare

Never disturb harmony (Peace)

Hojo undo is supplementary exercises where one uses various implements and aids to encourage and develop ambidextrous physical strength, stamina, muscle co-ordination, speed and posture. Hojo undo is not practiced merely for the development of physical strength, but rather it has many other benefits associated with its consistent practice and logical approach. There are various implements that should all be used to aid your all round development. The ones that I will concentrate on are the makiwara (striking board), chi-shi (weighted lever), kami (gripping jar), tan (barbell), sashi (weights) and tetsu geta (iron clogs). This is by no means all the implements that one can use, there are others as well. The benefits of this type of training are enormous; however they have to be practiced consistently and correctly. Always check, before and after practice that your implements are in good condition and clean. Also put everything that you use back in the correct place afterwards. This is an important habit to develop in your dojo with all equipment, e.g. focus pads, dojo floor etc. Use the implements in an area that will cause no harm to yourself and others around you. Work according to you limits and whilst you must push yourself, do not overdo your practice. Listen to your body and if you are in pain then stop or cut back on the number of reps. Do not use implements that are far too heavy for you, start off light and build up to a heavier resistance when you feel comfortable. Ensure that your posture is not compromised when using the implements. When lifting up equipment, e.g. chi-shi, bend your knees, drop your hips and then rise with the implement well gripped. Bad posture will affect your knees, back and hips. Always think of Sanchin (or Naihanchi) kata when using implements as the principles are almost the same, e.g. breath, posture, eye contact etc.

Makiwara
striking board

Incorrect makiwara training can cause great physiological damage to your hands and health in general. It is a common misconception that the aims of makiwara training are to produce large callused knuckles, which are impervious to impact. These physical ‘trophies’ are supposed to be indicators of strength and power. This is an incorrect perception! Whilst makiwara training can produce callused knuckles that could sustain tremendous impact and cause great damage, it is merely a by-product of the training itself and not the object. There is much more to this method of training than the mere physical condition of one’s hands. The makiwara is as old as karate itself, and is primarily an Okinawan training tool that was imported to mainland Japan by Okinawan masters who were responsible for introducing their art of ‘Okinawa Te’ (Okinawan hand). Gichin Funakoshi, the father of Shotokan Karate, in his biography, clearly states that "I think I am in no way exaggerating when I say that practice with the makiwara is the keystone in the creation of strong weapons." Choku Motobu, a famous Okinawan karate-ka who was renowned for his fighting ability, had this to say about the makiwara, "Makiwara is a vital piece of equipment for a karate student to exercise his skill." It is not un-common, on Okinawa, to find makiwara in peoples backyards, and to hear the pounding of a makiwara. To a karate-ka wishing to develop into a complete martial artist, makiwara training in vital and absolutely necessary.

sage-makiwara  (Hokama Kaicho)  (hanging makiwara)

The practice of ‘fresh air’ punching only, never gives one the true feeling of actually striking or punching and opponent. This type of training also encourages bad striking and punching habits, as there is no measure between your technique and end-result. Our heads are made up of bones and cartilage and are mostly hard and solid, similar to a standing makiwara (tachi makiwara) - see illustration. Therefore it is imperative that one’s hands are conditioned to resist the impact otherwise the first strike to your opponents’ head could damage the bones in your hands or wrist. The makiwara not only aids in strengthening the hands and arms, but it also helps strengthen one’s stance and coordinating one’s breathing. Punching ‘fresh air’ does not cover all these aspects.

The are two types of makiwara, the tachi-makiwara and the age-makiwara. The most common version of the makiwara is the standing makiwara (tachi makiwara). However, there are also two types of standing makiwara:

(a) A flat wooden post extending up from the ground with a pad (or straw wrap-around) on the top. This makiwara is struck from the front only.

(b) The other type of standing makiwara is constructed of a round pole which is set into the ground as well. Straw padding is wound around the pole, and it can be hit from all sides.

Chishi
weighted lever

Chi-shi training is also extremely vital to Okinawan karate. It should be used side by side with the practice of Sanchin and Naifanchi kata. Correct use of the chi-shi will improve muscle tone, strength in the fingers, hands, arms and chest (amongst many other parts of the body), however these are only the external benefits. The ligaments and cartilage of the wrist, elbows and shoulder joints will also benefit from this form of training. Initially, I mentioned 'correct use of the chi-shi', as incorrect use will definitely cause great damage, which could become permanent. Jerky movements and using too heavy a chi-shi can contribute to this disaster. Good posture and correct techniques are important, and should never be sacrificed for an increased number of repetitions. The shoulders should be kept on a horizontal plane despite the weight being asserted to one side. I often practice with the chi-shi using shiko-dachi. This helps me keep the hips low thereby aiding my balance. The movements should be performed in a deliberate and slowish way.

What might not be apparent when watching a person using the chi-shi, is the strong grip required in the wrist and hands. Okinawan karate relies heavily on gripping, grabbing and tearing techniques, therefore the necessity for good strength in the arms, wrist, hands and fingers. At the completion of a movement the grip should be tightened, focused and sustained for a short while. This grip/release grip action will stimulate the muscles of the arms, wrist, hands and fingers. When moving the chi-shi to different angles, focus that grip at those angles as well as this will improve you grip even at unusual angles and directions.

Sashi
weights

Sashi, hand held weights used during blocking and striking practice. Traditionally sashi is made of stone. A pair of 6-10 pound dumb-bells serves the same purpose. This exercise is very good for developing arm and shoulder strength. 

Kami
gripping jar

As mentioned previously, Okinawa karate relies heavily on gripping, grabbing and tearing techniques, and another device that is wonderful in these aspects in the kami, or gripping jar. Using this implement while stepping in Sanchin, Zenkutsu, Shiko or Neko Ashi Dachi also assists the lower body and posture. The lip of the jar is gripped with all the fingers and the thumb is actually positioned underneath the lip (tip of thumb pointing backwards in your direction). A good exercise is to step in Sanchin dachi, root yourself then list the kami in front of you until it is horizontal to the ground, hold it out there then roll the wrist around turning the kami around, return the wrist to the original position then slowly bring it down to your side, then step forward and repeat with the other hand. As with the chi-shi all movements should be done with a deliberate movement (muchimi) and not with jerky movements. Jars are filled with sand or water.

Tetsu geta
iron clogs

These are iron clogs, used to strengthen kicking techniques. 

The Tetsu-geta or iron sandals, for leg strength and kicking. (Much better for foot strength than modern ankle weights. The foot actually must grip the sandal, and the weight is at the far extremity of the limb, adding to the difficulty of the device. Because of this, fast kicking, which would be dangerous to the joints if using ankle weights, is not possible, and therefore the use of the tetsu-geta is preferred to the modern devices.)

Makiage kigu
wrist roller

This is a wrist roller, a wooden handle with a weight hung in the centre on a rope. You twist the handle and wrap the rope onto it, raising and lowering the weight, and strengthening the wrists and grip.

Yari bako

This is just a box or bowl filled with sand, beans, gravel or similar material. Fingers are thrust into it to toughen the hands.

Saifa - Japanese

Saifa - Chinese

Of all the Goju-ryu kaishu kata to be passed down, only Saifa appears to have retained it’s original pronunciation in Fujian dialect. In 1934, Goju-ryu founder Miyagi Chojun wrote “Ryukyu Kenpo Toudi Enkaku Gaiyou” (an Outline of the History of Ryukyu Toudi, also known as Toudi-do Gaisetsu or Outline of the Way if Toudi)). In it we can find a section entitled “Kenpo Torai ni tsuite” (On the origin of Kenpo) in which Miyagi Chojun names several styles of boxing including: Tiger, Snake, Dog, Crane and Lion boxing (for a comprehensive English translation of this essay, see McCarthy, 1999). 

Among the Southern Shaolin system in Fuzhou exists a family of boxing systems aptly labeled as “Lion boxing” (Jap. Shishi Kenpo). These include, among others, Lion Form boxing, Golden Lion boxing and Lion boxing. Not surprisingly, several elements of Lion boxing can be specifically seen in Saifa such as the double hiraken strike and mawashi uke. The double hiraken strike, according to Kinjo, represents the pouncing and pulling action of the lion’s front paws pulling down it’s prey, while the mawashi uke, although often thought of as the mouth of tiger, can also be interpreted as the “The Lion Opens its Mouth” as well. Finally, the many stomping actions contained within Saifa are meant to represent the powerful steps of the lion (Kinjo, 1999).

Seipai - Japanese

Seipai - Chinese

Kurunfa - Japanese

Kururunfa - Chinese

As is expected by kata which emulate the movements of the dragon, both Kururunfa and Seipai emphasize light and fluid movements that do not over-emphasize physical strength. The most obvious movement of dragon origin in Seipai, according to Kinjo, is the opening sequence where the karateka steps back into a shiko dachi and extends the right arm outward and straight in front of him or her. This is meant to represent the protruding tongue of dragon.

Kururunfa is referred to as Gorunfa in Fujian dialect and perhaps more than Seipai, the movements of the dragon seem more obvious in Kururunfa. The opening sequence containing the sokuto-geri is thought to represent the dragon kicking-off the ground or surface of the water as it takes flight. Other examples of the dragon in Kururunfa include the dragon’s tail striking the water (lower palm-strike). The sequence of techniques containing an escape from a full-nelson are distinctively dragon and bear a remarkable similarity to the chi-gong exercises emphasizing the dragon found in the opening sequences of five-animal/five-element form in Hung-gar Quan’fa. 

Finally, towards the end of Kururunfa, there is a technique called “sukui-nage,” or “scooping throw”, in which the defender drops low reltive the the opponent and fells him by grabbing the Achilles tendon with one hand and pushing the inside of the knee with the other. This technique is reminiscent of the Southern Dragon boxing as illustrated in (Aoki, 1998), called “Yellow Dragon Lays Down”. Alternatively, Kinjo argues that this posture is reminiscent of the dragon slithering into a cave (Kinjo, 1999).
 

Personally I always thought of Shisochin as more of a 'Tiger' based form, but according to Kinjo Akio, Shisochin, or in Fujain dialect 'Shisauchin', is representative of the movements of a cricket and / or preying mantis. The opening kamae (posture) and nukite (finger thrust) in Shisochin are thought to show the mantis hooking its prey and devouring it. In contrast, the forward stance with the arms extended is indicative of the cricket spreading its wings. 

Chinese

Okinawan / Japanese

Sanseru - Japanese

Sanseru - Chinese

Seisan - Japanese

Seisan - Chinese

Suparempei - Japanese

Soparempai - Chinese

We practice 13 major Goju  katas.  Every kata of Goju is separate style, with its own techniques and tactics. You can easily invest all your lifetime in mastering just 2-3 katas. So, only dan grades practice all katas, everybody else focuses on just three (Saifa, Seyunchin, Shisoochin).  

Kanji of Goju-Ryu Kata and their meaning

What is kata?  (Translated it means "pattern" or "flow")

          Commonly known, kata has been defined as a person “fighting against imaginary opponents.” This claim, to some extent is true, but at the same it is also misleading. It might be better to depict kata as “a handbook of self-defense

techniques.” By viewing it this way, a better picture of kata will emerge. Kata is indeed an encyclopaedia of

techniques, helping to recall techniques that an ancient master thought necessary to perfect. In ancient times, kata

      was a way to preserve techniques that might have been used to protect one’s life. A master places in his kata ideas on          how one can fight effectively against a common street fighter or armed assailant.

Bunkai is term used for "secret meanings" of kata movements. During the last 100 years Okinawa karate endured tremendous change. One of the results is almost complete lost of advanced karate techniques. Literally, all kata movements are explained as strikes or blocks. Some of them are useful, but some are "meaningless". Well, these "meaningless" movements are in fact advanced technique (joint locks, grappling, seizing, throwing, strangulations, weapon use...). Very few people from the West ever had a chance to learn old Okinawa art (Tode jutsu), so if you are not one of these, its better for you to start learning basics of jujutsu or aikido. Extensive practice of Bunkai techniques is reserved for higher belts. However, here are presented advanced techniques that we teach.

KANSETSU WASA (joint locks)
You can use these techniques for controlling your opponent. Joint locks are executed when joint is forced to move unnaturally (hyperextension, hyper-rotation, hyper flexion or combination). Most frequent result of these techniques is hyper torsion and joint dislocation. We practice 10-15 most effective kansetsu techniques, which are shown in katas: on wrist, elbow, shoulder, neck and knee.

NAGE WASA (throws and take downs)
It is much easier to control your opponent when he is off balanced. Nage wasa teaches various ways to make people fall. Sometimes you can use throw to defeat attacker (fall on head). We are teaching around 10 effective techniques, which are used in katas: foot sweeps, grabbing leg, shoulder throws, head manipulation, and sacrifice techniques...


TUITE WASA (seizing nerves, attacking tendons, grappling)
These are very painful techniques, which utilize various grabs, presses and pinches. It is very important to strengthen fingers and to be familiar with human anatomy. Tuite is usually combined with joint locking and throwing techniques. Most effective are:

1. Pinching - nose, ear, eyelid, lips, flank, inner thigh, nipple...
2. Grabbing - hair, throat, testicals and many muscles...
3. Pressing - eyes, behind ear, sternal notch...

SHIME WASA (deadly techniques)
Shime wasa are techniques applied on neck in order to kill someone. Death may occur as result of many techniques, but shime is most effective way. Because of possible misuse, I am not going to explain any details. We only teach this wasa to shodan level.
Shime wasa include (1) choking and (2) neck breaking techniques, which are usually used in "soft" manner for controlling of opponent.

The Classical Japanese Martial Arts in the West:
Problems in Transmission

by Dave Lowry

It is, almost undeniably, a fundamental aspect of the American character to be more or less constantly in search of something better. We seem to have almost a genetically predisposed desire for something different, something out of the ordinary. We are, to put it less charitably, perhaps, easily bored.

In a more idealistic light, we must acknowledge that such a cultural restlessness sparked our Manifest Destiny, beginning with the arrival of the Puritans to Massachusetts Bay and, most recently, with men walking on the moon. Ours is an approach to life that has influenced the behavior of Americans in matters as great as the way in which we started and continue to build a nation, as comparatively minor as the kind of martial disciplines of Japan that have interested us over the years. The grass, putting it simply, has always been greener on the other side of the hill.

In the case of those martial arts in this country, if we trace their presence here back far enough, we can see that the problem has been that there just weren't all that many hills, green or otherwise, around. In the Fifties, judo was utterly exotic. Outside of some Japanese-American enclaves, it was little known and less practiced and taught. And even in such ethnic communities, karate was so rare that when it was publicly demonstrated in Hawaii in 1927, the event occasioned an article in a Honolulu newspaper.

Within a decade, that changed. In the Sixties, karate became commonplace. By the latter half of that decade most cities had several dojo or "studios" or YMCAs that were offering instruction in the art. In the Seventies, the green meadows available for grazing in the martial arts became even more numerous and varied. Kung-fu was added as were several other combative arts from various parts of Asia. Most of them were more attractive (because they were "newer" and more exotic, primarily) alternatives to karate and judo that had become, by then, pedestrian.

To meet the grazing appetites of the interested public, there was also no shortage of arts that were more or less concocted, e.g., "ninjutsu," created out of folklore or ambitious fictions. In the Eighties, this continued, and martial arts enthusiasts found themselves with a smorgasbord of sorts, of silat, muay thai, savate, and a host of other disciplines.

The Bujutsu Fad?

In light of all this searching for something new, not to mention the entrepreneurial instincts to feed the search, it should hardly be surprising that the decade of the Nineties would find attention being directed at still another fertile field of combative arts. It has been. The decade of the Nineties has seen a new pasture open up in the bujutsu, the classical martial skills of the feudal period in Japan, circa 1400-1867.

The bujutsu, also referred to as the koryu (literally it means the "old" or "ancient traditions") offer a lot of attractions to the enthusiast in search of pastures more lush. Among the obvious reasons why Westerners in the 20th century might be drawn to arts that were meant for Japanese of the warrior class centuries ago would be:

Venerability. Despite our 20th century appetite for all that is new or faddish, a sizable number of us have a respect for the merits of age. Anything as ancient as the koryu, the reasoning follows, must have some value.

Romanticism. Popular novels and movies have glamorized "samurai swordsmanship" to levels best described as "swashbuckling." The samurai himself, a warrior who dressed in fine silks and pursued poetry and the tea ceremony, who made a life of blood and beauty; these are images that are tremendously appealing to many people. Look at the popularity of groups that "recreate" medieval culture and stage mock battles and jousts and such. Add the supposed mysticism of "The East," and you can see where arts like the bujutsu would fascinate so. A lack of reliable information placing these arts in a realistic historical context has left a gap that romantics have been free to fill in with their own notions of chivalry, derring-do, and so on.

Elitism. The rarity of the koryu provides an attraction for many of those individuals who enjoy standing out from the crowd or at least who appreciate not following along with it. There may be three or four "karate black belts" on the average block in most cities in the US. But how many "master swordsmen" or "modern samurai" are there?

Efficacy. Since these arts have a battlefield provenance, there is the assumption that the koryu contain many "secrets" and particularly lethal techniques that make them more effective in modern civilian self-defense situations.

Integrity. Anyone even tangentially involved with the average budo organization devoted to aikido, judo, karate, or some other martial Way has been exposed to mendacity, avarice, and managerial incompetence on a truly grandiose level. The koryu are (incorrectly) perceived as being above the organizational squabbles, the preoccupation with ranks, and the endless quest for more power and money that appear to compromise and infect the philosophy and goals of the modern and popular budo forms.

These, generally, are the views Westerner enthusiasts who are well-read (and books are almost the only remotely reliable source from which they might gather information, since non-Japanese with advanced experience in the koryu are so rare) have of the classical bujutsu. Very briefly, the koryu bujutsu might be more objectively defined as those combative forms directly or indirectly of a battlefield nature, that were the exclusive domain of the professional man-at-arms in premodern Japan. They date, as noted above, from approximately the 15th to 17th centuries. They are distinguished from the 20th century budo forms (and bear in mind that the appellations of "bujutsu" and "budo" are extremely arbitrary, more for general distinctions than as an exact definition) in several ways.

The bujutsu are:

--intended for implementation by a professional (feudal era) military class rather than for a general population.

--far less influenced by Zen Buddhism than later forms of budo. The spiritual underpinnings of the koryu tend to be those of mikkyo, a form of esoteric Buddhism.

--invariably and without exception organized under the aegis of the ryu, a feudal institution of old Japan with pedagogical, political, and cultural aspects that are completely different from modern commercial enterprises.

--obviously completely bereft of a sporting element, contests, or the kyu/dan ranking systems that are central to budo forms.

Undeniably, the koryu are appealing to a Western audience. At the risk of drawing my analogy about greener pastures out too far, however, those audiences would do well to remember that the color of a meadow may not be a positive indication that the grass there is palatable, that it is nutritious, or that it is even healthy for those who want to consume it. Several Westerners have gone to Japan to investigate the koryu. Some have gained admission to these classical ryu. A few have pursued them at such an intense and protracted level they have attained a thorough understanding of these arts. A very few have been granted permission to teach either part or all of the curriculum of the ryu to which they belong. (As we shall see, this permission is absolutely crucial if the ryu is to remain viable; one never undertakes to teach a koryu without the explicit permission, often in writing, of a qualified teacher.)

Nearly all of these individuals followed the trail blazed in the mid-Sixties in Japan by the late Donn Draeger. Draeger, a former Marine officer, took a scholarly and a participatory interest in the martial Ways that were being practiced in postwar Japan. His activity eventually led him into the koryu. Not only did Draeger's expertise impress several Japanese koryu experts enough for them to allow other foreigners to enter their ryu, he enthusiastically supported the education of many young foreign adepts living and training in Japan during the Sixties and Seventies.

We must bear in mind here, not incidentally, that the numbers of Western koryu participants about which we're speaking here were at that time and still are minuscule compared to the thousands of foreigners studying the modern budo in Japan. A generous estimate of the non-Japanese who have had serious instruction in the koryu would be no more than a few dozen. Their interests and experiences tend to create a certain cliquishness. They know or know of one another in a way completely unfamiliar to the large and largely anonymous groups involved in the budo. This is important to consider since those koryu exponents claiming to be legitimate but who are unknown to this fraternity of practitioners are apt to be regarded by the latter with considerable suspicion.

Denial Ain't just a River in Egypt

In contrast to this group of foreign practitioners of koryu are those persons interested in these arts who have attempted to involve themselves in the bujutsu in different ways. There are many such people. There are, in fact, enough of them to create quite a market for the classical martial arts and as with any appetite, there have been those who are eager to satisfy, to present a product. As a result, there are many, many individuals in the West who have been led to believe they are learning the skills of this koryu or that. They are, more accurately, being misled into believing. Fraud and deception involving the classical bujutsu have become a sad and reprehensible aspect of the martial arts scene in this country. Not so despicable but equally regrettable has been the amount of confusion and misinformation that has characterized Western perceptions of these martial traditions.

The problems encountered by the would-be bugeisha, the practitioner of the bujutsu, are varied. At one end of the scale are those students learning a legitimate system of feudal-era combat but who are doing so under a "teacher" who does not have the permission of a teacher before him that grants him license to transmit the system. (Also found at this range of the spectrum is at least one case where a teacher has actually been given official permission to teach more for political or sentimental reasons than for technical proficiency and who is simply incompetent as an instructor.) At the other extreme are charlatans who have actually created their own systems, passing them off with faked lineages and other false provenances. All these problems share a common source. All may be traced back to some fundamental misunderstandings about the nature of the bujutsu and the koryu that have sustained and nurtured them.

The Koryu

The ryu itself is something of a mystery to the modern world. It is a wholly feudalistic institution. Its history is fascinating. As with any organized combat, the kind of hardship in battle faced by the samurai in old Japan required a virtually inviolable cohesion between individual warriors in order to create an effective, functioning unit. In no small part, the martial ryu served to establish this connection. Loyalty, identification with the group, a willingness to place the goals of that group above one's own goals (specifically the goal of self-preservation); these qualities were as crucial to the maintenance and survival of a combative ryu as was the transmission of technical skill. Consequently, the ryu can be understood in terms of being a "family" as much as it was as a school or a distinctive tradition.

It was and is quite different from a modern commercial budo dojo, in at least three important ways:

One: in the koryu there are no "champions." The karate school may feature one or two stars who shine at the competitions (and who often use others in their school as little more than sparring partners). But the koryu is, on the proving grounds of the battlefield, only as strong as the weakest link in its membership. There is a sense of responsibility among members, then, for everyone's development.

In this sense, the koryu are not nearly so egocentric as are the modern budo. If today's budo dojo really wanted to do things "the samurai way" as they often imagine or advertise, they could begin in this fashion: at the next tournament, every competitor representing the school should give up his trophies unless the majority of his dojo-mates have won their matches as well. After all, on the battlefield, where the real samurai way was in effect, individual accomplishment is relatively meaningless unless the whole group succeeds.

Secondly, the ryu depends upon a pedagogical method very different from the way judo, aikido, and karate are taught today. The modern budo exponent follows a standardized form in his training. He is forced to make numerous concessions to learning in a large class. With forty or fifty students, it may be months before the student of karate or aikido, for instance, can expect any individual attention from the teacher. (One wellknown aikido instructor in this country has clearly explained in interviews that not all the people practicing at his dojo are his students. Only after they have persevered in their training sufficiently to have advanced to a particular degree of skill does he consider them actually his.)

The koryu exponent follows a set form as well in his training, learning kata or techniques in a loosely prescribed order. But his teacher, by the very nature of the ryu, confines his teaching to within a small group. From the beginning of his learning, the koryu student receives very individualized tuition. An epigram of the koryu explains it this way: "Ten different students; ten different arts." The teacher adapts to the student.

Sometimes, in those koryu that have curriculum involving more than a single weapon, one student may begin learning one weapon while another beginning at the same time will be taught to use another one. This virtually private instruction means that the koryu sensei can take into account differences in the physique, temperament, and background of his students and can teach them accordingly. All will, if they continue their practice, end up learning the same things. They won't learn them, however, at the same time or in the same way. This individualized teaching is nearly impossible in a budo dojo with dozens and dozens of members who must, logistically, be taught all the same.

Most importantly, however, the individual koryu exists as a distinct social group. It is, as noted above, much like a family. This implies a limited availability to outsiders, much as your own family has a limited flexibility, if it is to remain a distinct family unit, for accepting outsiders.

Consider this: aside from being born or adopted into it, one enters your family only through marriage. Think about how protracted this latter process is. How long does it take before your spouse or brother- or sister-in-law is fully integrated into your family? How long before they learn all the family nicknames, family stories; learn which cabinets hold the dishes at your house, or how to best handle Uncle Harry when he gets drunk and starts telling off-color tales about his wartime visits to brothels in Manila? It is a long process, one that cannot be hurried. There are no shortcuts to being absorbed by a family, becoming a part of a small group like that. And most of us have had the experiences, in our own families, of those who try to enter but just can't. Because of their personality or because of the nature of the family itself, some outsiders never do entirely "fit in." You can't have a "seminar" to teach these people what they need to know, how they need to behave to be accepted. You cannot force someone to fit into your family if they do not.

This analogy is entirely apt in describing the typical koryu. Their structure makes them unsuitable for access to large numbers of outsiders. There was a movie some years ago, perhaps you have seen it on cable or video, titled "The Challenge." It starred Toshiro Mifune and the actor Scott Glen, and it contained scenes of group training at what was supposed to be a koryu school. Pairs of practice partners in the movie neatly lined up and simultaneously went through choreographed movements. This may be the way those who have never visited one might believe a koryu group is run.

But to those who have visited or trained in a real koryu, these scenes rang particularly false. Mass instruction has never been a feature of these arts and cannot be. It takes years to instruct and impart all the technique and lore and history of a koryu to a single student. It is a considerable investment in time, rather like a master-apprentice relationship more than it resembles the teacher at the head of the class model that we have for education in modern times. It is as well an extremely close relationship and the personality of the sensei will, without a doubt, profoundly affect the character of his students. This is a relationship that can only develop properly by a near-daily interaction between teacher and student, in training and in other activities.

Once a person has this basic knowledge of the "family" nature of a legitimate koryu and can see how its individualized instruction further limits participation, can see how long and how close the process is to inculcate a person into the ryu, the methods typifying the fake koryu will seem quite inappropriate, to say the least. Can you understand the derision that meets announcements of "seminars" open to all who pay their fees, that propose to teach a classical martial art?

Commercialism of the Koryu?

The whole subject of commercialism in the koryu is another one that is difficult to grasp for us in the 20th Century, with our mercantile-based societies. When it comes up, those who claim to be teaching a classical system in return for the remuneration found in a commercial-type school invariably point to a single episode in the history of the martial arts to justify their actions. They cite the case of Ueshiba Morihei, aikido's founder, who paid a specific sum for specific techniques taught him by his sometimes-mentor, Takeda Sokaku, a teacher of the Daito-ryu. This is a non sequitur because: a) Ueshiba was not even born until after the end of Japan's feudal period; he was a modern martial artist, not a classical one; b) the Daito-ryu does not meet the standards of a koryu in the strictest parlance, and c) Takeda Sokaku can hardly be considered a typical teacher in the koryu tradition.

Historically, payment for instruction in a koryu was largely moot. The ryu would have been financially maintained by a clan or a daimyo (warlord/clan leader) to which its headmaster belonged. The headmaster may have had other, administrative duties to perform in addition to his responsibilities for teaching the martial arts. Other bujutsu masters were retained under the auspices of a Buddhist temple that served as the spiritual home of that particular ryu. Today, almost no one in Japan makes a living teaching a legitimate koryu. It is an avocation. Training fees or dojo dues are minimal. They are usually used for the upkeep of the training facilities. Anyone claiming to be teaching a classical bujutsu who is charging exorbitant fees ought to be subject to the most careful scrutiny. Of the roughly one-half dozen authorities I know of who are instructing some sort of koryu system in the US, none is charging for their teaching or making a profit on the arrangement.

Koryu and Its Place in Japanese Society

Another aspect of the historical koryu that causes misunderstanding concerns their place in Japanese society. More than one ersatz "classical martial arts ryu" being sold in this country attempts to explain its lineage as a sub rosa system that escaped the attention, deliberately or inadvertently, of researchers who have extensively catalogued Japanese martial ryu, both extant and extinct. Not long ago, I was sent a hugely entertaining collection of letters between a bujutsu researcher in Japan and a senior student of a supposed koryu practiced exclusively here in the United States. The researcher was inquiring about the history of the ryu. The senior student had all kinds of the most outrageous explanations for this ryu's having had failed to catch the attention of every serious martial arts researcher in the world. The ryu's lineage had been left out of this or that book by accident, he first said. The headmasters of the ryu were forced into living anonymously after the Second World War as the result of anti-martial arts policies during the Occupation, was a later claim. It went on and on and the researcher calmly and logically refuted each of these tales.

True, he said, the books did leave out some ryu accidentally. But it is unlikely that every dictionary of Japanese koryu would leave out the same ryu by making the same error. And why weren't other koryu masters forced to live underground and conceal their ryu? The exchange finally ended when the senior student was driven to suggest that all history is subjective and that none of the histories of the various koryu are at all dependable for scholarship. Such a position is quite close, intellectually, to those who insist the Holocaust never happened and one hardly knows whether to continue to try to reason with them or merely pity them in their sad delusions.

The "secret ryu" is a convenient story in explaining away any lack of outside historical documentation or a provenance that can be independently verified. But the truth is, it's a story that, in terms of the koryu, doesn't have much credibility. Remember this one fact: the martial ryu in feudal Japan was a political unit. The ryu existed to further the interests of a clan or a daimyo. An "underground ryu" would have been as viable and as effective as an underground political party in a democracy. Can you imagine trying to persuade voters to support your platform but concealing from them at the same time the fact that your party exists? No. Sooner or later, for the party to be effective, its presence must be made known. A ryu was not much different during the feudal era (although of course, today it may be: very, very few Japanese are even aware of the koryu). Certainly all bujutsu ryu had their secrets. But secret ryu? Not in Japan.

If not exactly secret, other impostors claim, their ryu are simply so obscure they have been overlooked by numerous and expert martial arts researchers and historians. This is an interesting claim--not because it's true; almost invariably it is not--but because it reveals how one culture (ours, in this case) can unknowingly transpose its own history and social customs on another (in this instance, that of Japan).

Misunderstood Contexts

America is a large country. A very large one. It has always been a country that allowed, in comparison with the rest of the world, an equally enormous freedom in the personal lives of its citizens. Daniel Boone didn't have to consult with any authority or government agency when he left Pennsylvania to go to the far frontier of Kentucky. He took off the same way you might take off to go on a holiday this weekend. Neither you nor he had to get permission for travel or tell authorities where you are going and when you are expected to return.

Boone didn't have to fill out any documents or carry any official papers with him. Record keeping of such movements are, to the frustration of many a genealogist, scarce. If I told you my ancestors began a pottery tradition 230 years ago in northern Georgia and I am doing the same kind of pottery today in my home in Oregon, you would have little evidence to dispute my story should you choose to do so. How would you do it? You might ask if there was any mention of my ancestor's occupation as potters back in colonial Georgia in old census records. But I could say, nope; they lived way back in the woods of Appalachia where census-takers never made it.

They never were required to "register" their trade, nor did they have to have any documentation of their eventual migration to Oregon.

In short, my story is perfectly believable in the context of American history and culture. A Japanese claiming a similar kind of artistic past, however, could not falsely do so any longer than it would take an interested party to check voluminous and extensive records that are easily and publicly available in Japan.

Japan is a small country. It has almost always been sedentary in terms of population. And because of the control of the daimyo over virtually the entire country, there were records kept on nearly every person in the domains of those leaders. It would likely be possible, if I were a Japanese with ancestral roots in the art of pottery, to establish the nature of my predecessors' ceramics inventory in any given year, to discover exactly where their kilns were located, and certainly to learn if they had relocated to another part of the country; these would in most cases be easy facts to uncover. There would be notations of these in provincial and local records.

This is much the same situation as can be found among martial arts practitioners in Japan. The information available to martial arts researchers and scholars is staggering. If there is any problem in reconstructing the histories of the various koryu it is often that there is too much information. It requires some patience to sift through it all. With a little digging, it is possible to discover not just the basic facts about the thousands of koryu that have existed, but their lineages, complete or nearly so, as well as all sorts of quotidian details about the lives and activities of past masters. It is possible that a koryu could have slipped through such a tight and far-flung net of information. But if a potential student of such a tradition is considering joining it as it is taught in this country, he must be willing to bet on two remarkably unlikely occurrences. He must believe that such a ryu has passed through undetected that tight web of historical scrutiny and research. He must also believe that an American was able to enter and to master such an obscure system and now professes legitimately to teach a ryu that the Japanese have never heard of.

I don't want to overstate the situation here. It is possible for an art to have thrived in obscurity, growing in such deep shadows that all the other practitioners of related arts remain unaware of its existence. And records in Japan have been subject to a world war that destroyed all kinds of documents. But let us summarize the whole subject of secret or rare koryu allegedly being taught in this country. The tales surrounding these systems are undeniably appealing. They evoke romantic and exciting scenes of a mountain fastness populated by wizened masters of mayhem passing deep and deadly secrets along to loyal acolytes. Look, though, at the historical facts. A daimyo ruled his lands through taxation of his subjects. He worried constantly about insurrections or clandestine political foment. Does it seem plausible he would be unaware of a clan of those hidden masters living on his property, his land, without paying taxes? Would he allow them to be secretly practicing and promoting a fighting art that could, in all likelihood be used against his own samurai if he permitted it to continue?

Daimyo usually ascended to power and they almost always remained there, by controlling things. The roads, the waterways, the people under their rule. And it's not as though there was a vast frontier there to where their authority did not extend. Punishments were strict and harsh for even the mildest threats to their rule. I don't know about you, but I'd have some serious questions about any stories of a "secret" martial ryu that could have survived under those conditions.

Transmission of the Koryu

The way in which a koryu is maintained and passed on is still another source of misunderstanding for the Western enthusiast of the classical Japanese martial disciplines. The bujutsu of Japan share an internal structure almost identical to those of ryu devoted to the art of flower arranging (ikebana), the tea ceremony (chado), and other arts of the feudal period. The structure is called the iemoto system.

Have you ever thought about who actually "owns" a martial art? There are copyright laws that enjoin you from using the tide Japan Karate Association, true. But you cannot be punished through our legal system by teaching all the kata and other methods of the JKA, even if you learned them by watching some videos and never had the blessing of the JKA at all. The same is true for various schools of aikido or any of the Japanese budo.

A classical martial ryu, though, was actually owned, in a sense. It was the property, literally, of its originator or of his descendants. The founder, or iemoto, designated his successor, who became the next headmaster or "owner" of the system. The line of succession was usually a familial one, father to eldest son. On occasion adoption might have been necessary to carry on the lineage. Other ryu were passed down to a trusted disciple outside the family. The salient point for our purposes of understanding this iemoto system is that the responsibility, the privilege of teaching or transmitting a koryu was and still is rather tightly controlled. It is entirely different from a modern budo like karate-do, where anyone at any time is free to begin teaching.

Different koryu that still exist today take different approaches to the whole matter of who is allowed to teach them. In most, a certification of mastery is not necessarily a license in itself to teach. To actually oversee instruction, one must usually seek the specific permission (or be granted it) from the incumbent headmaster. In others, the designation of mastery is an official declaration that the holder is de facto allowed to provide instruction in the ryu. In some cases, those who have mastered the ryu will be granted a limited permission to teach certain aspects of the curriculum, with the understanding that the students of the teacher will eventually take more advanced instruction under the headmaster or some other designated senior. (This is precisely the case with an exponent of one koryu that is currently being taught in the US. The "teacher" was leaving Japan to pursue a business opportunity. He lacked advanced instruction in the ryu, although he wanted to continue his training. The headmaster of the ryu gave him an informal permission to teach some rudiments of the art to a limited number of students. But it is important to recognize that such instruction cannot be considered the equivalent of membership in that ryu nor should those receiving this teaching hold any misconceptions about their status within the system.)

The aspiring koryu practitioner should make every effort to learn how the teaching hierarchy in a particular koryu is maintained before he begins an association with it. This is vital if the teaching being is presented is being done so outside of Japan. If he is satisfied that he comprehends the criteria for teaching and he believes his prospective teacher meets it, he should feel confident in pursuing the art under such tutelage.

A good example here is found in the Katori Shinto-ryu. The oldest of the martial koryu still practiced in Japan, the Shinto-ryu's present iemoto is Iizasa Yasusada, a 20th generation descendant of the ryu's founder, Iisaza Choisai lenao. Poor health prevents the current headmaster from conducting teaching in the ryu. That responsibility has fallen to the ryu's designated chief instructor, Otake Risuke, who teaches at his dojo in Narita. Most readers will know this. There are, however, at least three other people currently teaching the curriculum of the Shinto-ryu. These three teachers have varying degrees of expertise in the art. Certainly all of them can prove that they studied the Shinto-ryu. None of these three, though, can or do claim that they have the sanction of the headmaster to do what they are doing.

For some aspiring practitioners, the experience of these three may be sufficient. They all have students here in the US. Other would-be practitioners, however, may decline to practice any form of the Shinto-ryu unless they can be accepted by that ryu's primary lineage. But all of them should be cognizant of the facts and make their decisions accordingly.

It is a cognizance of facts that is most crucial for the prospective student of any koryu. He needs the facts to take the opportunity (and it is an extremely rare one) to begin a study of a koryu that may be available in the West. More likely, he needs facts to steer him clear from fraudulent ryu or from those teachers who may sincerely believe they are imparting an authentic classical system of combat strategy when they are not. Most importantly, knowing the facts surrounding the bujutsu is the best way to see these wonderful old arts not as others would romantically like them to be but as they actually are.

One reason that fraudulent koryu and ersatz "masters" have proliferated in the West is a rather (at the risk of sounding sexist) gentlemanly refusal to speak or write critically of others in public on the part of legitimate koryu members and authorities. There has also been an attitude of "anyone foolish enough to become involved in a phony koryu deserves what he gets." Doubtless some reluctance to speak out stems from a stubborn, almost religious fervor with which adherents to these pretend koryu support and defend them.

My own experience in dealing with these individuals has been illustrative. As it was with the correspondence I mentioned above, between a researcher in Japan and a senior student of a fake "master" in the United States, in the face of overwhelmingly objective evidence that is presented to them to show that the system they are studying has no historical reality, their response, pathetically, is often "My teacher says it's so." At this point, the researcher must conclude he is dealing with a person caught up with a belief system. Facts are not so important to these people as are images, both of themselves and their teachers, that affirm a particular view of things.

Fortunately, not all individuals training in a fake koryu are so dogmatic. Some, through their own efforts or by approaching authorities with their questions, come to discover they are being misled and cheated. One courageous and refreshingly honest confession appeared not long ago in a martial arts publication. The writer admitted that he had fallen in with a dishonest instructor of a bogus koryu and that he had contributed to this problem by creating kata and others aspects of training on his own.

Unlike others who cling to their phony ryu, this fellow, according to his writing, came to see that he would never attain the goals that brought him to a search for the bujutsu in the first place if he continued. In my opinion, this person has taken an enormous step forward in his approach to the classical martial arts and toward his own self-mastery.

The intent of this article is not to ridicule or to unfairly cast aspersions. If the reader has an opportunity to pursue a true and authentic koryu in this country and he is so motivated, then he should be all means do so. (As you must now realize, this is an extremely unlikely proposition for most. I noted earlier that I can think of only a half dozen real koryu experts in the US. They all keep a low profile. Some have no students at all currently; others have no more than three or four. None--and this is a crucial point--none of them are in the least bit evasive about their training history or qualifications if they are asked. Each can give you the addresses of their teachers and the dojo where they trained in Japan and can provide documentation and genealogies that can easily be verified in that country.)

The classical martial disciplines of Japan are a rich source of physical, spiritual, and social value. They are a treasure every bit as precious as any work of art. If the prospective practitioner should not be hasty to jump into a ryu of questionable legitimacy, neither should he adopt an attitude of cynicism that leads him to overlook a chance to join a koryu. (I am reminded of perhaps the senior-most koryu authority outside Japan, a scholar, author, and true master who oversees a small group of trainees in his art in Hawaii. It has occurred more than once that a spectator at outdoor training sessions will inquire about joining, only to lose interest when it is explained that the master is of Caucasian rather than Japanese ancestry.)

To return, if I may, in summation, to the analogy of the greener pastures." The bujutsu are a lush meadow for all those willing and able to enter them. Those who cannot make this entrance can show a real appreciation and respect for these arts by refusing to compromise them, by refusing to accept a cheap imitation. If they are a landscape that can only be viewed from a distance, those who truly admire the bujutsu in the West will show the nature of their character by doing just that