In the early twentieth century, Naha’s red light district, Tsuji no hana machi, was an ideal place to test your combative skills. Young men, like the teenaged Miyagi Chojun, were initiated into a system of kakidamashi, or spirit testing. While these sparring contests were essentially street clashes, there were some ground rules: don’t fight with anyone smaller than you, anyone drunker than you, or anyone who earned their living in the area and might have a family to support.
Given these pugilistic parameters, rowdy, rough-looking ne’er-do-wells, particularly those with a criminal past, were prime kakidamashi targets. After a brief exchange, an impromptu ‘bout’ would follow, and despite their romantic label (Street Sumo), they were in fact, kicking, shoving and striking brawls.
In 1936, Motobu Choki goaded a young Kadena police officer, Nagamine Shoshin, into participating in this “rite of passage”. Conflicted by the prospect of breaking the law (even if to further his skills), when asked if he’d followed his teacher’s advice and engaged in kakidamashi, Nagamine was non-committal.
Source: Interview with Nagamine Shoshin, Kumoji Okinawa, 1996
Today, are we combat ready?
Kakidamashi belongs to another time and another social world. I am certainly not suggesting that karateka should wander into the rougher parts of town looking for someone to fight. But behind this uncomfortable piece of karate history lies a question that is much harder to dismiss:
Is there enough pressure testing in the modern dojo?
We practice techniques designed for confrontation, but how often do we practice them against someone who genuinely does not want them to work?
How often are we surprised?
How often are we hit?
How often does the distance suddenly collapse, the beautiful technique disappear, and the encounter become an ugly mixture of grabbing, pushing, striking, imbalance and adrenaline?
Kata gives us a vocabulary. Partner work allows us to investigate it. Pads and equipment allow us to develop impact. Sparring develops timing, distance and adaptability. But none of these automatically guarantees that we can function when another person is imposing their will upon us.
That requires pressure.
Not recklessness. Not dojo bullying. And certainly not recreating the street violence of Tsuji.
Pressure should be progressive, intelligent and appropriate to the people training. But at some point, compliance has to diminish. Resistance has to increase. The outcome has to become uncertain.
Otherwise, what exactly are we testing?
The old Okinawan karateka had kakidamashi. Its methods may be neither desirable nor acceptable today, but its underlying purpose is difficult to ignore. They wanted to discover whether their karate survived contact with reality.
Perhaps the modern dojo needs to ask itself the same question.
We may be technically proficient.
We may know our kata.
We may be strong, fast and well conditioned.
But when things become chaotic, uncomfortable and unpredictable
today, are we combat ready?
Gambarimasho ~ C.Borkowski