Never get to know your heroes.

Martial artists, heroes, myths and realities.

The Sensei on a pedestal.

Martial arts writer Dave Lowry said that there were many misconceptions in the west of what it means to be a Sensei. He says that many people think of the Sensei as a cross between Mr Miyagi and Yoda. Your Sensei might be outstanding in his karate abilities, but would you trust him to fix your central heating system?

A specific problem we have is when we wrap our Sensei in the flag of morality, virtue and refined ethics. We are all human, we are all flawed, but hopefully we are all also a ‘work in progress’ (as long is the work is not somehow lagging behind the acceptable development of human maturity).

This is where Budo morality becomes an aspiration rather than a solid consistent reality; it is a yardstick by which we are supposed to measure ourselves.

But, bad behaviour is bad behaviour; more easily observable when it is happening right in front of you. Much more difficult when it is historical, and it is this that I want to focus on.

A quick note based on a conversation I had about ten years ago regarding the conduct of some Japanese Sensei who decide to move from Japan to the west. My friend, who was a keen observer of Japanese social culture said that it was interesting to observe how conduct that would never be tolerated in Japan was given free rein in Europe and North America, basically, the shackles were off. He was a noted cynic, but I couldn’t help drawing my own conclusions.

An example from fashion.

A recent expose on the excesses of the French fashion industry and particularly how the big brands treat their interns, made a comment that bad behaviour by certain fashion icons and designers was tolerated and immediately excused because these individuals were lauded as creative geniuses whose eccentricities (and bullying) were ‘forgiven’ because of their untouchable credentials (So much for ‘Me Too’) – sounds familiar? Read the full article here: https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2018/sep/02/academic-exposing-ugly-reality-high-fashion-giulia-mensitieri

History is a slippery fish.

To me, the reputations of various historical Sensei, or those recently passed, seems to bubble up and down like some kind of animated, real-time stock market share diagram.

But, as time goes by the share value of various Sensei or key figures seems to slow down and consolidate. The reason for this steady settling is that those who knew them at a personal one-to-one level eventually fall off the perch themselves and so their reputations slip into second-hand anecdote or oft-repeated mythology degenerating into folklore.

Rashomon.

A 1950 Kurosawa movie about a crime told by different people from different viewpoints became a byword for how one incident can contain a number of ‘truths’ (‘Rashomon’ in Japanese means ‘dispute’). So it is with the lives and reputations of departed iconic martial arts teachers and founders of styles or systems.

One Sensei might have been the scourge of his enemies or rivals, and then like a father-figure to his students or Deshi. But… as a man? It’s funny how nobody ever asks what his wife or his children thought of him. Maybe there are untold stories by Mrs Ueshiba, Mrs Funakoshi, or Mrs Kano? I wonder what they would say if they were given a voice?

Takeda Sokaku (1859 – 1953).

I will use this famous martial artist as an example, not because I want to libel his reputation or diminish his importance, but because his darker side is so well researched.

Briefly, Takeda Sokaku was either the inheritor or originator of one of the systems reputed to be the root art of Ueshiba Morihei’s Aikido (Takeda was Ueshiba’s Sensei).

He taught a system that was at one point described as Daito Ryu Aikijujutsu. Stanley Pranin of Aiki News did a whole load of research with interviews with direct students and people who trained with Takeda, a fabulous detailed record.

Even by those times, Takeda’s life was considered unorthodox. Basically, he was a wandering itinerant teacher of Bujutsu who earned his living by setting up what we would call today ‘pop-up’ workshops, where he would impressively pulverise anyone in front of him - amazing in itself, because he was so tiny!

It was said that he didn’t have a ‘system’, as such; he WAS the system; hence all those he taught struggled to agree on any kind of common syllabus.

According to accounts he was foul-tempered, avaricious and violent. As an insight into his persona, he was inclined to be paranoid and terrified of the ghosts of the men he’d killed.

At one time, in his middle years, he reputedly deliberately set himself up to be robbed on a rural road in northern Hokkaido just so that he could gleefully murder the highwayman who had been terrifying the locals. The story is that the highwayman was found dead on the roadside with his head twisted the wrong way round. Robin Hood or psychopath, you make your mind up.

Another example: Within the city he carried a hidden spear blade, secreted in his walking stick. A story in Pranin’s book tells of an incident where a dog had the temerity to bark at him on the street. Without a pause, Takeda used the hidden blade to stab the unfortunate animal through the heart.

Martial artist and writer Ellis Amdur attempted to retrospectively psychoanalyse Takeda and came to the conclusion that he grew up as a damaged and traumatised young man (at least by modern standards). In the Boshin war (1868 to 1869) he witnessed things no young person should ever see. Amdur says that he subsequently traumatised his own family, firstly through a kind of semi-abandonment (they never knew where he was) and secondly through his very ‘hands-off’ parenting of his son and successor.

I think that with Takeda we have a unique window into the fuller life of an historical figure. We know that all human lives are complex and there are many shades of grey and so many stories that will never be told.

A contradictory separation.

The dilemma here is to somehow separate the man from the martial artist. In Budo philosophy, ideally the two should be weighed and measured together. However, from my observations, there is a phenomenon where a Sensei can be a great technical martial artist but a terrible human being.

Whereas, the Dojo side of the person can be very public, the ‘human’ side can easily have a veil pulled across it. Of course, with historical figures, the veil can be almost impenetrable; unless of course their dirty laundry is aired in public, then everyone gets to see it.

Further examples.

I find myself wondering about the likes of Funakoshi Gichin or Otsuka Hironori. It is intriguing to figure out how their martial and moral capital has faired over time. As their stock rises and falls based upon reputation, or even relevance, drawing upon reminiscences, anecdotes; how do these famous figures score on the chart of deserved fame?

Funakoshi Gichin (1868 - 1957).

At one time his portfolio was unimpeachable. He was held up as a paragon of virtue, called ‘the father of modern karate’. A whole battalion of Funakoshi inheritors put the muscle out to prove his martial credentials and he was their figurehead.

But then, at a particular point, the unquestionable became questionable; usually from the point of view of ‘just how good was he?’

I see two problems with that, the first being, ‘just how good was he, compared to what?’ Compared to modern competition fighters, an MMA guy, or even the inheritors of his own system, as seen through the lens of the JKA Shotokan instructor’s programme that flourished in the decades immediately after Funakoshi’s death? But also, compared to martial artists who were his contemporaries, even the other Okinawan masters of the time?

At a personal human level Funakoshi still holds a stainless reputation as a man who believed in Confucian principles, with no hint of scandal or letting his guard down.

Motobu Choki (1870 - 1944).

Motobu was a fellow Okinawan karate master and a bitter rival of Funakoshi in Japan. ¹His capital suffered at the hands of Funakoshi fan-boys. For a time he had no voice, that is until his son broke Japanese protocols and came forth to tell his father’s story and attempted to bust through the misinformation and the propaganda (watch out for my longer piece on Motobu and Otsuka that will be published in the paid section of this Substack project).

Motobu Chosei wanted to set the record straight re. his father’s reputation. Certainly, Motobu Choki was no angel, but he certainly wasn’t an illiterate low life brawler, a ‘one-trick pony’ who only taught one kata, in fact he was from aristocratic lineage that made Funakoshi, by comparison, look like a member of the Okinawan petite bourgeoisie. Because of recent interviews Motobu’s stock has risen. He has also been a good guy for a quote; the ‘Bunkai Eagles’ have been all over that one; searching for their own particular Holy Grail – good luck on that one.

Motobu Choki was somewhat hindered by his communication and language skills; being an Okinawan he struggled to get a grip on the Japanese language as spoken on the mainland. This was where Funakoshi had the drop on him; as a schoolteacher he had no trouble with spoken and written Japanese. To add to the complex relationship between them, Motobu and Funakoshi had almost opposite views on the purpose and application of karate.

More modern times.

The capital of more modern, recently departed Sensei has risen exponentially; like the overinflated housing bubble I watch with amazement and wonder how long it will take to pop.

Across the styles I find myself surprised by the selective memories of past students, but I can fully understand why it is in their interest to embrace the mythology and ignore the more complete human picture.

I know that we are living in the times of ‘my truth’ and the objective truth is out of fashion, but somewhere out there has to be a balance, one that acknowledges and is sympathetic to human weaknesses.

There’s also the legacy issue. If we consider ourselves part of a developing tradition, in whatever karate affiliation we belong to, just where is it going? Or are we just content to hark back to an imagined past populated by iconic masters, and through our own lack of ambition and foresight let the whole thing just fizzle away? Maybe that’s a theme for another post.

Image credits: ‘Funakoshi and the boxer’ Kingu Magazine 1925.

1. In 1925 Kingu magazine published a story about an Okinawan karate master defeating a western boxer. The actual event was Motobu Choki’s victory, but the illustrator in the magazine pictured the master as Funakoshi! This made Motobu incandescent with rage. Image at the top of this post.