There is a common understanding that the kata that make up modern Okinawan karate have been passed down for a long period of time essentially unchanged. There is also a common precept that “the kata must be preserved unchanged”, that they must be kept that way. The idea, of course, is that they contain knowledge that has been passed down intact and that if they are changed this knowledge will be lost.

Ok, that makes sense. The forms contain information for and about the systems they are a part of. Wouldn’t dream of arguing with that. The “unchanged” part, that might be a little more problematic. It is a nice idea. I’d like to think that we have little nuggets of ancient wisdom to draw on in our practice. In some systems that can be somewhat verified. Taking something like Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto Ryu, there is a very well documented 600 yearish line of continuous succession and written documentation to back up the physical practice (this includes records of changes made, but that’s a different conversation). The two person paradigm that the kata embodies is somewhat change-resistant, as is the highly conservative environment of the practice. However, to be honest, we have no video reference before the 20^th century, so we really have no idea what it used to look like. But the Okinawan arts have a very different cultural background, and solo kata a very different practice paradigm.

Focusing on the cultural background, I’d like to look a little more closely at what unchanged might mean. To do so, I’d like to look at one or two kata from the early 20^th century. We don’t have video reference from this period, so let’s really simplify and just look at kata names and who taught them.  Let’s start with Seisan. We know that Aragaki Seisho demonstrated a version in 1867, so it has a long history in Okinawa. About 60-70 years later, around 1930, there were at least 7 versions extant. They included:

There is evidence of other versions. Itoman (The Study of Karate Techniques, 1934) lists an Iha Seisan and Mike and Takada (Kenpo Gaisetsu 1930) an Oshiro Seisan, which Kinjo Hiroshi has said is actually a Tomari Seisan passed from Mastumora to Iha to Oshiro. (He also says there was no Shuri Seisan.) Others, including researchers like Patrick McCarthy, have said Matsumura passed down the Shuri Seisan. I haven’t spent much time looking at the Shuri/Tomari lineages and can’t speak to some of this, so I’m sticking with the ones above as they will make my point well enough. The possible existence of others, or more complicated lines of transmission, only reinforce it.

So around 1930 there were at least 6 and possibly as many as 10 or more (I wish I could document 13!) versions of a single kata on Okinawa, a kata that had already been around for at least 70 years. Probably more, but we can clearly document to 1867. And these 6-10+ versions were each passed on by a single teacher to only one or two people we know of; for example Kanyu Seisan went only to Kyoda Juhatsu. That says two things. One, that the only versions we know now were those passed to people that continued to teach and helped create the styles we know today. (As a corollary, with small groups and not every teacher having students that taught, there were likely versions that simply didn’t get passed on.) And two, that none of these versions were widespread, they were particular to a single teacher and a small group of students.

To put it a different way, every teacher that passed down Seisan passed down a different one, and passed it down to a few direct students only. They passed down their own version. Indeed, while they all bear close resemblance to each other no two teachers from the pre-war era passed down an identical Seisan. What does that say about a “root” kata, one unchanged? By whom? As of when?

I’ll bring another kata in to look at this a slightly different way, Passai. At the same time, the 30s ish, there are a number of different versions of Passai extant, at least according to the somewhat scant written record. At this point they have taken on the names of the folks who taught them. A list could include:

These are people’s names, plus a place name. Even with a fairly comfortable understanding of Japanese I often find a list of names like this somewhat inaccessible. So let’s rephrase it. If it were in English, the list would feel more like:

This isn’t a list of style specific kata or kata named for some long lost ancestor. It’s a list of kata, named for people in the current or recent generations. A list of individual variations of a common piece of material. If you are familiar with folk music think about the different versions of The Ballad of John Henry recorded in the 20^th century. Each artist considered it ok, in fact if you know musicians you’d realize they would consider it essential, to take the root material and “make it their own”. The same thing is happening with karate kata here.

There were no styles at the time. Each teacher had, essentially, his own style, made up of what he had learned from their various teachers and completed with his own personal research and development. None of these teachers had many students. They did however, have a community around them.

These guys all knew each other. They shared stuff- the kenkyukai is a perfect example. A bunch of folks from what would eventually become different systems got together and shared. They were interested in how their peers were training. It wasn’t radical, though like most groups made up of a bunch of leaders it didn’t last long.

Community is important. Looking at these kata variations it seems clear to me that each teacher took the themes that were current in the community, things like Seisan or Passai, and worked with them as they saw fit. This wasn’t considered transgressive.  To wit, in Miyagi Hisateru’s piece “Memories of a Karate Man” he writes that “Yabu (Kentsu) performed Kusanku, which combined Sho and Dai. In Yabu sensei’s version all the shuto-uke were replaced by tsuki-uke. I think this was Yabu sensei’s way of improving the kata and that it was a good idea. Researching and combining kata has its place. Using the fist is better as the usual shuto-uke runs the risk of having fingers broken, which is quite frightening.”

It seemed normal to Miyagi that Yabu sensei would combine and make changes to classical kata based on his own ideas. The variations of Seisan and Passai, and their names, indicate to me that this was a typical way of working with kata. If not, there wouldn’t be so many unique variations of Seisan, or Passai with different teachers’ names attached.

So I might suggest that we should look at any search for an “original” version of a kata in a different light. We can’t know what the kata actually looked like before video. We do know that teachers felt comfortable making changes to kata at least up until the war and the development of today’s karate styles. We also know that even after the formal styles were created and the idea of kata as unchangeable came into more prominence changes still happen. If they don’t why are there so many minor variations of Goju’s Seisan now? They all come from Miyagi. Maybe he taught it differently to each person that learned it, or taught with variations, in which case he started out precluding the idea of a “true” kata. Maybe each teacher made some minor tweaks that he thought were ok. Either way, in 2 generations, with video and a clear pressure to keep things the same, there are differences, albeit minor.  What does that imply for kata in an environment with no video record and a common acceptance of teachers making changes as they see fit?

Perhaps we could find an “original” version of a kata for whatever system we are researching as far back as say 1930. Maybe as early as the start of the 20^th century, if we have any way to prove the current version is unchanged since then. But before that? I dunno. Taking Seisan, they are all clearly variations on the same form, but which version is closest to the original? How would you know? There is no documentation about its creation. There doesn’t appear to be one that was more popular, at least in the early 20^th century. You might be able to tease out one that was from an older lineage, but how do you know where the other lineages got theirs, and how do you know what changes were made the generation before it was passed on as it is now? How do you know that other versions from the same period didn’t keep key elements that the teacher that passed down the “older” version didn’t like? And does it matter?

Kata are an essential part of Okinawan karate. They hold important elements of the systems they embody. But equally clearly, at least to me, their secrets are in their practice, the way they are done and how they were shaped to work within their systems, within current (at the time of the system’s founding) training methods and concepts, as much as in the sequences. Their embodiment of these particular concepts is what makes them valuable tools. Certainly they have been passed down to us and we should treat them with the respect they are due. But we shouldn’t fool ourselves that we have some unchanged piece of the ancient past to work with. Our karate ancestors were inspired men, not the kind of folks to blindly pass on something, but the kind of men who would make sure whatever they valued they worked with and shaped to be an active and creative part of the art they loved. Respect that, follow the goal, not the finger pointing at it, and don’t create a mystical artifact that, most likely, is just illusion.

Oh, and don’t change the kata.

Well, I’m definitely thinking about language and culture these days. Right now, it’s titles and ranks. These came up in a conversation I had recently. There is already a plethora of stuff written about how they are used incorrectly. On one level that makes sense to me. I find the western misuse of Japanese terminology endlessly frustrating. Honestly, it is pretty simple. In Japan and Okinawa one never refers to oneself using a title. You don’t say “Hi, I’m Bob sensei”, you say “Hi, I’m Bob.” And even the highest ranked teachers are called “sensei” when you are speaking to them (just like a school teacher or your GP), not hanshi, or shihan, or any other title. Sempai cannot be used as a title or rank, because one person’s sempai is another’s kohai. (At the same time, in the same conversation…) But these simple linguistic concepts get, or got, changed pretty quickly in their transition to the west. Some groups now refer to seniors with titles like kyoshi or renshi instead of sensei. I see sempai written on belts or used as a title. And don’t get me started on soke. At times it makes me, and people I know who have also lived in Japan, a little batty.¹

But why? So what? They are just words. And when I look closer, the only people that seem really invested in this are westerners who have lived in Japan for an extended period of time. Even many of the Okinawan teachers I know see how their western students use the terms and while they may laugh a little about it they don’t really seem to care. And I certainly know people who have been traveling to Okinawa or Japan for decades who use the terms very differently to how they are used in their native context but suffer no conflicts or consequences. So why is there an issue?

For a couple of reasons, I think. The first is simple: it is incorrect. To give some context, it sounds a little like someone saying “Hello Mr. Master’s Degree Frederick” to me. Really weird. The second is the way in which it is wrong. In Japanese it would sound arrogant (and a little insecure). Think “that’s right, I am more important than all of you and you better know your place” arrogant if you are using it about yourself, like “I’m Bob sensei”. And saying something like “good morning xxx hanshi” to someone, either comes off as sarcastic, implying you don’t think they deserve the rank, or it implies that the person you are speaking to is quite arrogant and demands being called by his or her titles and you are calling them out on that. Either way it is pretty much an insult. So I’d think that if you were really trying to show respect and be a part of an activity rooted in another culture you would want to get it right.

And yet….  I have friends and acquaintances who have spent a lot of time in Okinawa. They use titles in a variety of ways, depending on the American (or Canadian) groups they belong to. When they are in Okinawa however their teachers and fellow students never get upset about mis-used vocabulary or word choices that can come across as rude. Why not? Because it is really clear things are not meant that way. As the Okinawans are well aware they cannot speak English they recognize the effort. They see the desire to demonstrate respect and friendship, and to give credit to the teacher, the art, and the culture. Mistakes are not nearly as important as the spirit behind them.

But things are different when you are living in the culture. Okinawa is unusual, because you can conceivably live there for years and not really have to speak Japanese or Uchinaguchi much. But in virtually all the rest of the country if you are living and working there you live and work in Japanese. And while it can be over-stated, it is an in-group culture and a fairly formal one. There is a difference between someone visiting and someone who has taken on the responsibilities of an adult. If you have taken on these responsibilities not only is your intention important, your competency is as well. If you are in, you have to abide by the rules. That means understanding how to be polite and acting accordingly.

This is in part because your public behavior represents the group, whether you want it to or not. The costs for failing can at times be severe- ostracism and disrespect among them. There can also be consequences for any group you belong to; whether you think it is fair or not your behavior will reflect on those around you and they may pay a price for your actions, just as you may pay a price for theirs. That set of expectations carries across multiple areas of your life: work, the dojo, and friendships. The better your language and cultural skills get, and the closer your relationships get, the stronger the expectations get. This isn’t to say it is a harsh culture. My experience is the exact opposite. But there are expectations around following basic rules of conduct, just as there are here.

So after living in the culture for an extended period you wind up internalizing this, both because it is a part of your daily life and because most people want to be polite. And then when you hear things done incorrectly it really stands out. (In part because it can then reflect back on you, even if your only connection is that you are both gaijin.) That’s not surprising. If I were to hear someone say “Hello Mr. Master’s Degree Frederick” to me here I’d definitely wonder. Especially if that person had been involved in an American art form, say bluegrass banjo playing, for years and traveled here many times to study it. And even if my (hypothetical banjo player) business card were to have my degrees on it it’s clear we don’t say them when speaking to someone. It only takes a couple of first meetings to learn the “nice to meet you Mr. xxx” portion of a conversation. I’d wonder why they didn’t care enough to learn how to address people, or if they were too stupid to get it.

I’ve sat in dojo in Kagoshima and Okinawa with my teachers and guests who spoke very little Japanese. I’ve sat at work with new arrivals and my bosses. And in both situations I’ve seen the guests getting honest praise, repeated later when they were not around, for their use of the language while then being criticized myself for mistakes in gradients of formality between different members of the group. I’ve also been given a dressing down for other foreigners making mistakes- the fault was mine not theirs because I knew what was appropriate and they didn’t; even if they were refusing correction not being able to get them to accept it and be polite was my responsibility, though I had no authority over them. The expectations were just different.

It can be crazy-making! Why can she, whom you see every year or two but can’t discuss political economy with, get a pass on calling you a moron by mistake while you give me, who is here every week, cleaning the dojo, going to the enkai, and talking with you about how to deal with your chronically late employee, a dressing down for mixing up formal verb tenses when drunk? Shouldn’t everyone have to get it right? Especially when it has been made clear getting it wrong is disrespectful?  And why is their behavior my responsibility? Why do the actions of people I don’t even know reflect on me? For folks who have lived and worked in the culture this can result in some stress that comes out when non-Japanese use things like titles and such inappropriately. And if the locals don’t take any offense at visitors misusing their titles, I guess it doesn’t really matter and we should get over it. But having some responsibility, unwanted I assure you, for the actions of others whom I have no control over has reminded me of one thing: usually they are being let off the hook because they aren’t thought of as being fully on the team. They are not being treated as a responsible adult.

So while it is nice getting let off the hook, and comfortable (and cool?) creating your own traditions around titles, you might want to think about what that means, for you and for your group. You don’t have to get it right, but making the same mistakes over and over tells people that you don’t really care, or just don’t understand (or think your version is equally or more valid than the native one). And if they are letting you off the hook it may indicate a background assumption you are not really equals. Is that what you want? To be assumed to be less than? And really, there is no excuse. The butchering of Japanese titles here is a pretty poor showing. But no worse than this sign, so I guess it goes both ways. Can’t imagine that place getting much business in Boston though.  I know I’d go somewhere else.

1 I actually think this is in part due to the military background of so many of the first generations of Japanese martial arts instructors in the US. In the military a captain is a captain, a private is a private. Rank is not conditional. But in the dojo, a sempai is sometimes a kohai, and your sensei might be someone else’s kohai. it all depends on who you are talking to. That’s pretty different.