Interview with Kenji Tokitsu: the essence of Budô
Kenji Tokitsu is today in his own right one of the greats of budô. The Japanese press considers him the foremost Karate theorist in the world today, and it can truly be said that he applies all his theories in practice. He is the founder of the Shorin-mon or Jisei-Budô school, the product of decades of research and intense practice of different systems. This month's issue features our interview with one of the most sincere, committed and steadfast masters of martial arts, whose theories will stir the conscience of many who are stuck within outmoded currents of modern Karate.
By David Leonardo Bárcena.
The first thing of surprise about Kenji Tokitsu is his physical appearance. He exudes vitality, power and energy, to such an extent that you can feel the energy radiating from him. No-one would guess he is anywhere near the age of 52. If you see him train, especially in combat, you realise that you are watching someone exceptional, who has reached the highest level in martial arts. Kenji Tokitsu is known throughout Europe and Japan, where his theories are revolutionising the world of Karate.
He graduated from Hitotsubashi University in Tokyo, and went on to earn Ph.D. degrees in Sociology and in Japanese Language and Civilisation from the University of Paris. So far he has published six books (in Europe and Japan), including "Histoire du Karate-dô", "L'art du combat" and his latest book on Miyamoto Musashi. He is also the author of over a hundred articles published in magazines such as “Karaté-bushido” (France), “Gekkan Karate-dô” and “Budô” (Japan). A long-time student of Shotokan, at about the age of 30 he began to question his practice and look around at other schools, thus beginning a quest that led him to study most of the styles of Karate taught in Japan. Afterwards, he did the same with the schools of Okinawa (especially Shorin ryû, the origin of Shotokan). He also studied the way of the sword, Taiki-ken, and Chinese systems such as Xing yi, Baji chuan, Tai chi, and Yi chuan or Da cheng chuan. His school is a synthesis of all these experiences.
Tokitsu's system combines energy practice with the art of combat. His school is eminently practical and realistic, and pays particular attention to the rintô kata or combat kata. Special guards (head gear and gloves) are used to allow contact in training for combat.
Here then are the words of a man who radiates essence - the essence of Budô.
Could you tell us about your beginnings in martial arts and what motivated your decision to practice them?
I have been very interested in the martial arts ever since nursery school. I grew up in post-war Japan, when the entire country was extremely poor and there was a certain latent violence in society. Like all children, I was interested in Judo and combat.
In primary school I mainly practiced Sumo, which is very popular among children, who do it on their way to school in the morning, after school and so forth. I eventually became the school champion and was fairly well known back then in the region as a Sumo champion.
Later, at the age of 10 or 11, while still in primary school, an exception was made to allow me to attend the Kendo courses taught at the secondary school.
Before that, there was secret Karate. Older people used to seclude themselves behind temples and sanctuaries to practice Karate, and I would watch these training sessions and then try to reproduce what I saw. I was still quite small, maybe 7 or 8.
I had always wanted to do Karate, but there were no dôjôs in my town. The first time I did Karate in a real dôjô I was 15 years old, although I had already had quite a bit of practice. That school followed the Shito ryû system. After entering the university, I began to practice Shotokan in earnest. Later, when I graduated, I went to France and continued teaching and training.
Did you practice Shotokan Karate for a long time?
Shotokan is the style of Karate that I've practiced most. I kept with it very intensely and thoroughly for 17 or 18 years.
When in the course of your practice did you begin to question your Shotokan training?
I began to question things at about the age of 30, and then more and more. At that time, Shotokan was the only style that I had really gone into, so I began doubting while practicing Shotokan. I would particularly wonder about things like what I would do when I reached the age of 50. What condition would I be in physically, what would be my level? And I'd tell myself: if I continue like this, I don't think I'll be in great shape when I reach the age of 50.
Then, while still doing Shotokan, I began to look into other styles, other methods etc. to try to find a solution.
From then on you have practiced and studied many other styles of Karate, and you've especially looked into the roots or sources of Karate - the styles of Okinawa, particularly Shorin ryû, isn't that so?
In the beginning, I started seeking out masters of other schools, because when I was deeply involved in Shotokan - and I think this is the case with many people, when you practice a style with great commitment, you think that it is the true way and that there is no need to practice other things, to see other masters. This was my case also, and I understand such people very well, even though I now think of them as idiots. I too was an idiot. Back then I didn't question things, I believed that Shotokan was the best style in the world, infinitely better than other things. Later, when I began to ask myself questions and look for different masters and practitioners of other schools, I began to see things more objectively. By making comparisons, I was forced to realise that what I was doing was not the best, and this was a great shock. There are many people who cannot accept such a shock and prefer not to see.
I saw that what I'd been doing was not the best, and I began to make training exchanges with other people. This marked the beginning of my search.
What led you to the practice of Chinese internal systems of combat such as Tai ji quan, Bagua, Xing yi etc.?
At first I wasn't interested in exploring Chinese martial arts. I was always concerned with Karate. But once you begin to question something in which you have believed very deeply, you become quite flexible. Many people never have doubts and are very unyielding in spirit, but from the moment you question something that you hold very dear, you cross that threshold and you become more harmonious. Your mind becomes more understanding and tolerant.
I used to be very inflexible and would make no allowances. Shotokan was the best in the world, and I shut my ears to anything elseâ?¦
But later, exploring other systems, practicing exercises, I'd tell myself, “This can't be, I can get hit, I can get hurtâ?¦, it's a fact”. From that moment on, I acknowledged it and began to search, and in the course of that search, I discovered Chinese martial arts.
I was avid to learn, I wanted to learn everything, so I first concentrated on studying all the different styles of Karate in Japan, followed by the Okinawa ones. In the course of that search I encountered masters of Chinese martial arts, including Tai ji, Ba gua and so forth.
I believe you have also practiced Yi chuan or Da cheng chuan and the Taikiken of master Sawai, isn't that right?
I first discovered Taikiken back in 1981 or 1982. To me it was a revelation and I practiced it intensely. Later on, I was able to discover the origin of Taikiken, which is Yi chuan or Da cheng chuan, which I've been practicing since 1990.
What is the meaning of the name of your school: Jisei Budô?.
Jisei Budô is the Budô that must be constructed by oneself. The definition of my Budô practice is that each person must find and build his own life and self - his body, his spirit, state of mind and so on.
Today Budô has become a microcosm of tiny religions. Like small versions of Catholicism, with many popes or teachers, and everyone a believer, believing in his master. It all turns into a cult of the master. And what good is that? To my way of thinking, Budô means liberation, each person building his own life, learning how to face life. This means being able to face one's own death.
A doctor once told me, by the way, something quite extraordinary. He said he had been present at many deaths, since he was the only doctor in the region, and that those for whom death was the hardest and most painful were priests - precisely the people who most often attend the deaths of others. This truly amazed me and confirmed what I already believed, that in Western society, in the Catholic religion too, people are not taught to face life and death.
Well then, Budô is a way of learning how to accept our own life and also our own death. This is what one learns. We grow into life and we grow into death. To me that is Budô.
A particularity of your school is the way in which the kata are taught. Your practice of combat kata, or rinto kata, is totally realistic. Could you comment on this for us?
I have questioned the kata. What does kata mean? There are many people who practice kata as an absolute truth, as though the kata were the Bible. But even the Bible can be questioned, and the kata are much less, being merely something that people have created. Therefore I view the kata objectively. People spend a long time practicing the kata and then the kata applications, but the kata is executed one way whereas it is applied differently. So I say that if it is applied in such and such a way, then the kata should be performed accordingly. A kata must contribute directly to efficiency. If it does not, it is worthless.
The kata have also been deformed in their transmission down through the years and centuries, and it is true: they have been greatly distorted.
We have the means of verifying the kata of today and those of other times. We can do so in a way that is similar to archaeology, and the results show that almost all of them have been deformed.
If you do Karate, you practice kata. Many questions can be asked about the uselessness of kata, because kata should be a useful thing. If not, why practice it? Today we can waste time, energy and money. This is freedom, right? But it didn't use to be that way. People did not practice karate and martial arts in a way that was different from real combat. If kata were practiced back then, it is because they were efficient.
Today as well, if a practitioner does not find efficiency by directly practicing kata, there is something wrong.
For many years now, you have conducted combat training in your school with gloves and head gear. Is contact combat actually necessary?
Take for example the fact that, at the end of the feudal era in Japan, there were 719 registered sword schools. That is a lot for a country like Japan. But back then, they had managed to construct a general way of practicing combat, a common language for sword combat. 719 schools, but it didn't matter. If combat was conducted in that way, the question of who was the strongest or who was the most efficient was simple. If you got cut, you knew you had a problem. If you took a slash full on the head, you knew you'd lost.
So in Kendo, Kenjutsu in those times, they had a common language. Back then, belonging to this school or that was of no importance. From the moment you were able to engage in combat, you put on your armour and drew your Shinai. If you won, you won. And if you lost, you lost, period. It was quite clear.
Today, however, what do we have in Karate? Shito ryû, wado ryû, Goju ryû, Shotokan..., many things, and combat is generally conducted without touching, without contact. This is a problem. In combat matches without contact, there are more serious accidents than in Karate systems where contact is allowed. That is what the statistics tell us. When contact takes place, it is an accident because it is not called for. If contact is expected, it is not an accident and you are prepared.
Today if you want to practice Karate with interest and in depth, it is necessary for there to be contact, using more or less protection, such as head gear, gloves etc. We are almost in the 21st century.
At the end of the 19th century, Kendo had armour and a common system of combat, thanks to which much progress has been made and they have developed a great deal.
Today in Karate, it is a little like being in the Middle Ages. Some people practice this, others practice that, and there is no common language, meaning that people can't verify where strength lies. This makes it possible to develop dishonest forms, sects. You can almost say that for every school there is a sect. They are stuck in their ways and are blind to any other form of practice.
Whereas Budô is a path for liberating people. A person who practices Budô becomes stronger physically and mentally, meaning that he grows freer to continue living.
I began to practice Budô in this way. Life is full of difficulties and you have to meet them with a certain physical and mental strength. If Budô does not give you this kind of strength, what is it good for?
I feel that Budô nowadays is the opposite. People are prohibited from seeing what goes on in other places. They follow only the programme decided a priori by the style or school. But this isn't right. For every school there is a block or sect.
This modern trend is to be lamented.
The search for efficiency is one of the characteristics of your school. Could you talk to us a little about the concept of efficiency and its importance?
Efficiency is a concept that it is not easy to talk about. What is efficiency? Efficiency in combat, in the Dôjô? We have to be careful when we talk about this subject. To me, efficiency in Karate training, in the Dôjô, is a measure, a criterion for judging whether your practice is going well or not. For example, if you take a blow full in the face without being able to block the adversary's attack, then your technique is mediocre. Or, on the other hand, even if your technique is good, if your judgement becomes clouded, if you are afraid, beyond the merits of the actual situation, it means that there is some problem in yourself.
The notion of efficiency is a tool you can use to discover what is not right within yourself. That is the notion of efficiency. It is thanks to the lack of efficiency that you can progress more quickly, by questioning and looking at yourself. For example, if an adversary makes a feint rather than a real attack, why does the feint work? It works because you take this fiction for real. What you must question is your perception of what is real. To the extent that a feint works, it is a measure of how far your perception of what's real has failed. That is the thing that matters.
The notion of efficiency in budô is an attempt to live really, to see the world as it is. It is the endeavour to live as existentially as possible. This is how I see it. If you are not efficient, it is because you are mistaken and do not exist truly, because you have allowed yourself to be perturbed by an illusion.
I lay great stress on the search for efficiency, and I am efficient.
In your writings you often speak of maintaining and even improving efficiency in the practice of martial art at an advanced age. Is this possible?
I think that if you practice regularly, you can progress a great deal. Especially looking at myself, I think that at about the age of 50, it is impossible to continue maintaining a certain type of efficiency if you train only once in a while. After you turn 50, and I see it in myself and in my predecessors, you can progress if you train every day. Every day, even after the age of 50, you can progress. And my objective is to build this efficiency in my life. I think that at the age of 80, it is possible to be a paragon of vitality and efficiency. I am halfway there. I am 51 years old, and this is the objective I have set for myself.
You speak of Karate and martial arts based on percussion techniques, but what about grappling combat like Jiu jutsu and other styles so much in vogue today? Aren't they important if we are concerned with efficiency in practice?
Yes, and I practice them as well. I do all types of techniques, but my martial identity is founded on percussion techniques, whether karate or Chinese martial arts. They are my martial art identity and the core around which I practice holds, throws and other techniques.
In any case, it is necessary to do everything. Anything that gives me something is worth my time and I study it. But one mustn't forget one's own identity, and mine is grounded in percussion techniques. However, I am able to execute throws and all that. I have done Sumo since childhood and it comes very naturally to me.
Your search is not over, your art is alive and in full evolution. Where are your studies currently taking you?
Until now, I have studied a great deal outside: the way of the sword, Chinese martial arts, different things. Now I feel that I have accumulated enough knowledge - martial knowledge - and I am beginning to make a synthesis of everything that I have learned. However, this does not keep me from continuing to learn and study. I am always in contact and communication with different martial arts masters, and for me it is a pleasure to have these exchanges, this communication.
But mainly, I work on my personal synthesis.
Do you encourage your oldest, most advanced students to search for themselves?
Of course. Depending on their level, their capacity, their knowledge, what I want is for them to become their own teachers, because each person must be autonomous and independent. Independent of spirit and in the knowledge that they must acquire.
I would like to clarify a few things. Why do the martial arts follow the father-to-son model of transmission?
For example, I had a sword master who was very important, and his disciple, his successor, was 15 years older than he was. Yet their relationship was parental. Someone who is 15 years younger adopts the role of father and his successor, who is 15 years older, respects him as such. This is surprising to westerners, but that is how relationships are in martial arts. Of course this is a rather exceptional example. Generally speaking, the teacher is older than his pupil, it is true, but the Jigen ryû school, which is very honourable in Japan, was founded like that. It is an historic fact.
Transmitting something to someone in this way, father to son, is visceral, like handing down your insides. That is how it is conveyed. It is not a transmission of mere material goods, but is much more than that. It is a way of being, of thinking, of feeling. That, at any rate, is how Japanese martial arts are handed down.
Many thanks for your words, Sensei.
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