The history of Korean Martial Arts?

[Swallow]

What do you think about this article: [FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Ancient Military Manuals and Their Relation to Modern Korean Martial Arts”, published in the Journal of Asian Martial Arts, Vol. 12, Num. 4, noviembre 2003.:

http://www.taekwon.com.ar/a.pdf
http://www.taekwon.com.ar/b.pdf
http://www.taekwon.com.ar/c.pdf
http://www.taekwon.com.ar/d.pdf

Swallow
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[exile]

Swallow—this important article's final conclusion—

From an historical perspective, it becomes apparent that any appeal to the Muye Dobu Tong Ji as evidence for the antiquity of any Korean modern art is unacceptable today

—is 100% in line with the findings of Stan Henning and Dakin Burdick in earlier articles in JAMA. And the author's conclusion that `the nationalistic arguments that have so frequently distorted the historical truth can no longer be accepted' is completely consonant with that of these other historians and a reminder that when we give up what the historical record shows in favor of our own fantasy-yearnings, we dishonor the dead. The historical record offers our best shot at reconstructing the fact of the matter that was the historical reality that previous generations lived through. Whether we like that reality or not, we've no right at all to thrust it aside on the basis of whatever nursery stories feed our hopes and aspirations for the MA we practice.

The soundness of the scholarship here is outstanding. Eventually, maybe, we'll stop getting these pathetic appeals to the Muye Dobu Tong Ji to document the nonexistent centuries(or millenia)-old `origin' of modern KMAs along the lines of the pathetic article on the TSD/TKD history in the current issue of Black Belt, as well as several dozen poorly researched introductory chapters of TKD and TSD handbooks. Meanwhile, thanks for posting those links!

 

[Last Fearner]

I recently had a useful encounter with the difference between legendary and real history myself. After passing on the standard folklore about Mas Oyama's practice of stunning, and in a few cases killing, fierce fighting bulls in unarmed combat, I was prompted by my ever-skeptical MT friend Brian van Cise to reexamine the record and see if there were any truth to this story.

It turns out that there is an extensive interview with one of Oyama's most senior students and inheritors of his kyokushin karate mantle, Jon Bluming, who stated flatly that Oyama had `fought' a bull only once, that the `bull' was actually an ox, obviously frightened—JB emphasized that oxen are treated kindly, as pets, in the Japanese countryside, and are not used to being mistreated—that Oyama did not kill the ox but did hurt it, that he, Bluming, thought this was abominable, and that Oyama himself felt bad about the publicity stunt (which he admitted it was) and never did it again—and yet, newspaper and web biographies have him injuring a couple of dozen or more angry bulls and killing three outright.

According to personal accounts written in his book on Karate, “What is Karate” (published in 1963), Master Masutatsu Oyama had heard a legend of a Karate Master of the past having killed a bull with one stroke. He used this legend as a motivation for his training. Although he was born in Korea, he went to Japan to study aviation.

“Korea had produced her first pilot (whose name was Shin) and the youths of my fatherland aspired to become a pilot like him.” “Harboring this ambition, in 1938, when I was fifteen years old. I went to Japan by myself.”

Being rejected as an “unwanted Korean,” he found it difficult to find a room to rent. Eventually he did, and attended college. At college he became interested in Karate, and sought out the best instructor in Japan, Mr. Giko Funakoshi.

“I wanted a good instructor and called at the Shot-Kan (a Karate school) operated by Mr. Giko Funakoshi who was then considered the veteran master of Karate. He was the second son of Master Gichin Funakoshi who introduced Karate to Japan from Okinawa.”

With the end of World War II, Oyama became excited about the prospects of a liberated Korea. However, the civil war between North and South Korea discouraged him. He became politically involved to make a difference, but was soon met with frustration over the corruption of politics.
On the advice of a mentor, and Karate master, Oyama retreated to the Mountains for solitude and training.

“When I was driven almost to self-ruin, Mr. So Nei-Chu, an elder of my native province, rescued me from the crisis. Mr. So, a thinker and master of Karate, was a rare man of character and confidence.”
“When I was at my wit's end as to what to do and went to see him, Mr. So, after encouraging me, said, 'You had better withdraw from the world. Seek solace in nature. Retreat to some lone mountain hide-out to train your mind and body'.”

He was joined by a student of his, and they trained very hard every day. The solitude was more challenging to them mentally than the physical demands, and the student eventually ran away one night.

“For us, during the first one or two months the wind sounded as Satan's footsteps; we had nightmares and were awakened many times.” “We endured it, though, in this isolated heart of the mountain.”
“We rose at five in the morning, trained ourselves by running up and down the steep hill, practiced Seiken-tsuki two thousand times against the stumps of trees around us, and broke sprigs down with Shuto, looking upon them as opponents.”
“I bore all this, but my pupil could not. One night he finally ran away from the mountain solitude in secret, and I was left alone.”

Oyama stuck to his mission with one goal in mind, to become the best Karateist in Japan.

“I was once told that a master of Karate had killed a fierce bull with one stroke of his fist. There is no knowing whether it is true or not, but before I entered this mountain retreat, I shaved my hair off intending in my mind to obtain the power and technique to accomplish such a feat before my hair grew long again.”

Oyama had planned to stay in the mountain for three years, but inescapable circumstances forced him to come down after a year and a half. “In 1947, he entered the All Japan Karate Championship Tournament in Kyoto, and became the champion, but one thing remained on his mind.

“Although I was acclaimed the number one Karateist in Japan, my earlier desire to repeat the ancient master's feat of striking down a bull with one blow of the fist still remained.”

He visited a local slaughter-house, and asked to test his Karate skills on one of their bulls. Of course, they thought he was crazy, but he finally convinced them to let him have a bull.

“The bull appeared to weight about 1,000 pounds. First I posed the right Seiken and with a yell, gave one stroke on its brow. Though my stroke took effect, the bull, bleeding from the nostril and mouth, began to run amuck instead of falling down, I was unable to approach it for another stroke. With remorse, I left the slaughter-house still with expectation of success some day.”

He began to make daily visits to the slaughter-house.

“I started off first by breaking the horns of smaller bulls, later graduating to bigger ones.”

Meanwhile, a friend of Oyama's, who was a film-maker, wanted to make a movie with Oyama called, “Karate Vs. Fierce Bull.” This motivated Oyama train harder.

“ I was all the more encouraged by this. I studied bulls, experimenting on more than fifty head of cattle as to how to dodge a fierce onrushing bull.”

When it came time to do the filming at the Yawata coast of Tateyama in Chiba Prefecture, Oyama felt prepared, but the bull they presented was larger than he expected (this was not the tame "ox" of a later event, but a regular fierce bull). He recounts the day's event in the following edited excerpts:

“On the day of the filming upon looking at the bull the movie company had brought, I was frightened. It was a large bull weighing about 1,250 pounds with a horn 10 inches long and 3 inches round at the base.” “I swiftly dodged its attack right and left, and finally grasped it by the horns.” “Suddenly I missed my footing and fell on my back.” “Though I recovered quickly, my skin was torn from abdomen to breast. The blood flowed, but I felt no pain.” “Gradually, however, I felt my opponent becoming tired. The moment I noticed this, I twisted the bull strongly to the left with all my might, taking advantage of its strength.” “With a yell I struck at the base of the horn. The bull groaned; its horn, broken at the root, was hanging down from its forehead. I pulled the horn out of the forehead and unconsciously held it up high over my head.” “I had conquered the bull.” (the book's version lasts much longer in more grueling detail of vicious struggle lasting more than 30 minutes)

In this portion of his story, there is no specific mention of “killing” the bull, but in a later passage, he mentions that he did in fact kill this bull, and another one at a less favorable event.

“On November 11th 1956, I was supposed to have a fight with a fierce bull at the Denen Colosseum in Tokyo. However, it was foreordained to be a difficult and unsuccessful fight as the approval of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Board read, 'You will neither hit nor kill the bull.' I had planned to snap the horns of the bull as it dashed toward me by using 'Karate' and this was the publicity which had been issued by the promoters.” A desperate struggle between man and bull was going to take place this evening, so the customers had been led to believe.”
“The 1,200 pound bull selected as my opponent was named 'Rai-den-Go.' This was larger than one I had previously killed at Tateyama City, Chiba Prefecture -- the first bull I had killed after training for such an encounter.” “At Tateyama, the fight lasted more than 30 minutes before the bull was killed. In Contrast, it took only three minutes this time, and it was far from an epoch-making fight between man and animal. 'Fake!' cried the spectators, and it was natural that they shouted thus. 'Give us our money back, you big swindler!'”
“As for myself, I stood bewildered with all this, for it was I who had proceeded to this stadium with more thrilling expectation than anyone else. The point I feel that I must make clear is that although the exhibition was a big failure, I was neither a fake nor an imposter.”

It seems that Oyama had more problems than a reluctant bull/ox which was easily defeated.

“Before this exhibition was to take place, a letter had been sent to the Metropolitan Police Board from a stranger, which read as follows; 'Oyama will not abide by your ultimatum. He will start a fight after giving the bull an injection shot to make him excited. A desperate struggle will ensue accordingly. Being excited, the bull will charge Oyama. The result will be just as Oyama wishes. He will then hit the bull and kill it under the excuse of 'self-defense'.” “The Metropolitan Police Board thereupon sent about 50 detectives to the stadium to see that this prediction did not come true.”

In addition to this, Oyama's troubles with this event extended further into embarrassment, and financial burden.

“There were three promoters for this exhibition...” “None of these promoters appeared at the stadium that night because of a dispute among themselves in connection with receiving profits from the exhibition. Shirking their responsibility, who was left to be manager of the exhibition at the stadium? It was I, -- Oyama 7th grade Karateist, the contestant. I had to be the manager and promoter, I had to assume responsibility for others' failures.”
“The exhibition did not benefit me a farthing. Who in the world was a fake and a swindler? Oyama, 7th grade Karateiest, was beaten untidily at the colosseum by promoters. I assumed 270,000 yen of debt on behalf of those who actually committed the fake.”

In spite of the poorly planned exhibition, and rumors of fraud and deception, Oyama had indeed killed another bull with his bare hands. Although he had misgivings about the event, he harbored no resentment towards those who had done him wrong.

“Musashi Miyamoto, great swordsman whom I deeply admire, once said, 'I have no jealousy of others; I have no resentment, no hatred of them as long as I know that I have put forth my own best effort.” “That fatal evening two years ago I received some unfortunate publicity for others' irresponsibility. I hold no resentment or hatred for I put forth my own best effort.”

Master Masutatsu Oyama was capable of demonstrating the awesome power of his hands.

“People often look at me incredulously if I say, 'A bare hand can crack a stone weighing about twenty pounds.' I once broke such a stone before some newspaper men, who were quite astounded by what they had seen”
“I have also broken the powerful horns of sixty or seventy large bulls. This, I may say unequivocally, is a record unequaled by anyone else.”

Although his story might seem a bit off topic, I think it is relevant to note that, as much as we might believe we have debunked the frauds, and accomplished “myth busting” when it comes to history and events of the past, it seems that the most recent version of the “real history” is only valid until a newer version comes along. Was there only one bull fight? Photos in his book show two distinctly different bulls on two separate dates ( “Raiden Go” being the one that looked more like a domesticated ox/bull - - I would scan and post the photos, but it would probably violate their copyright). Was the struggle between man and beast more of a myth and a legend than fact? I don't know. I wasn't there. However, lacking any proof to the contrary, I am willing to accept the accounts as described in Master Oyama's own words.

So much fake media hype, and this is within living memory—and then we're expected to accept vague rumor about events going back hundreds or even thousands of years in the Three Kingdoms era???

Did we really just experience a myth debunking, or was the original story more true than the version of de-mystificaton?

 

[exile]

Although his story might seem a bit off topic...

Hi LF, thanks for that very interesting account, and no, I don't think the story is off-topic in the least. Although it probably wasn't exactly what you were aiming at, it helps to make my point and strengthens it still further.

We have, with the history of the past century, a whole bunch of accounts of what MO's combat with male cattle consisted of. There are stories in which he slew them barehanded on a regular basis (check out his 52 dead bulls at http://www.masutatsuoyama.com/masoyama.htm... did he set up a program killing one a week for a year?? :lol, stories in which he slew one or two, the recollections of John Bluming, his close personal friend and senior student, and Oyama himself, and they all differ in detail, sometimes wildly. This is in an age when literacy is widespread, media coverage blankets the world, and the performances in question were supposedly public... and we still can't get the story straight. This something that supposedly happened only a tad more than half a century ago. The war was over, Japan was full of observers... and everyone has a different story: no dead bulls, a couple of dead bulls, a whole herd of dead bulls... how are we supposed to decide on what should be a very simple historical question?

Does Oyama's own account have a privileged position in this mass of mutually contradictory stories? Hardly. We have excellent evidence that some of them most prominent pioneers of the MAs made important statements about their arts that can be easily disconfirmed, sometimes in their own words. Gen. Choi gave three interviews in Combat magazine, one the '70s, one in the '80s, and one in the '90s, in the first of which, as Stuart Anslow notes, he identified Shotokan karate as having been absolutely essential to the development of TKD, and in the last of which he claims that Shotokan played no role in the development of TKD, with the '80s interview taking a middle position (for an interesting discussion of other self-contradictions on the General's part, take a look at Rob Mclain's interview with Gm. Syung-Poo Kim in our own MT Magazine.) This is Gen. Choi contradicting himself!!—no matter how you slice it, he said two incompatible things at different times, backing each of them with his own experience, memory and authority. Or take Hwang Kee, who claimed to have invented the Pyung-Ahn hyungs at one point, but later admitted that he had learned them from their Japanese Heian ources (not surprising, given that the Pinans that became the Heians in Japan were constructed by Anko Itosu two decades or so before Hwang Kee was born. Or the claim that he had invented the Kichos, which again are nothing more than the Taikyoku katas of Shotokan, with a couple of minor modifications (the Taikyoku have been attributed variously to Funakoshi and to his son, but there is evidence for them in indigenous Okinawan styles such as Gojo-ryu—what is clear is that they definitely predate Hwang Kee's martial arts training by quite a long time!) And there are many, many more such examples. Self-reports and claims by major figures writing for public consumption are not guaranteed to be any more reliable than any other kind of statement.

In a previous discussion, when I alluded to some of these points, you appeared to be indignant that I was accusing these pioneer figures in the karate-based arts of lying, but as I tried to explain in a reply to that post, nothing could be further from my mind, because I take very seriously the distinction between `private truth' and `public truth' which is very common in Japan and other extremely hierarchical Asian societies, and in Japanese is virtually inscribed into the vocabulary: honne, one's own views and perceptions of the situation, vs. tatemae[.I], or the official story, the one that one wants others to believe. I think I may have cited Bruce Clayton's characterization of the difference as follows:

It confounds the naïve Western reader to discover that respected Japanese sensei casually conceal, distort or fabricate stories about karate's historical origins for their own purposes. In Japanese culture this is the normal thing to do, and it would not occur to them to do otherwise. In Japan, the official story is more important than the actual truth. In fact, they consider the official story to be another kind of truth, even if the stroy is completely inaccurate and deliberately misleading.For a person to question the official story is shockingly rude. People who insist on digging for verifiable facts are derided asrikutsuppoi,or `reason freaks'​

(Clayton, Shotokan's Secret, pp. 31–32, citing Karel Van Wolfram's magisterial 1989 work on Japanese culture and history, The Enigma of Japanese Power, emphasizing Chapter 4 of KvW's book `The Management of Reality.') My Korean graduate students, whom I've discussed this distinction with, agree that something very similar operates across much of their own society, and I suspect it's a cross-national, cross-ethnic cultural trait of many Asian societies. The point is, here is Oyama, operating as a self-acculturated Japanese of Korean origin, in a society in which face and honor are all-important to both success and self-respect in life, telling a story about himself for the public record, a situation in which he is in a position to determine the tatemae, as per normal cultural practice. I've no confidence whatever, given those facts, that his account is more accurate than Bluming's, I'm afraid.

But the crucial point is that it doesn't really matter: we have so much historical indeterminacy here that all we can do, in a sense, is close the book and say, we don't really know what happened. And this is just two generations back!

I think it is relevant to note that, as much as we might believe we have debunked the frauds, and accomplished “myth busting” when it comes to history and events of the past, it seems that the most recent version of the “real history” is only valid until a newer version comes along. Was there only one bull fight? Photos in his book show two distinctly different bulls on two separate dates ( “Raiden Go” being the one that looked more like a domesticated ox/bull - - I would scan and post the photos, but it would probably violate their copyright). Was the struggle between man and beast more of a myth and a legend than fact? I don't know. I wasn't there. However, lacking any proof to the contrary, I am willing to accept the accounts as described in Master Oyama's own words.

All valid questions! But as per my preceding comments, I don't believe there is any more reason to believe MO's own words in the absence of confirmation. Witnesses in court, trying to portrey themselves in their best light, are not accorded any special privileged position among alternative account; that's the whole point of cross-examination—or, as it works in historical research, searching for converging documentation and multiple lines of evidence.

Did we really just experience a myth debunking, or was the original story more true than the version of de-mystificaton?

Yes, that is the question. But the larger point—the way in which even very recent MA history quickly becomes a tangle of unverifiable stories, anecdotes, legends and much else, blocking our access to a genuinely well-founded factual account—is amply supported by everything you've cited, and that was my larger point in connection with attempting to go back many centuries, or millenia, where the problem—given the lack of documentation—will be increased exponentially.