Kata: The Heart of Karate
Many newly developed forms of self-defense / combat sports de-emphasize or outright attack traditional kata’s applicability in modern times. This viewpoint is simply not true and reflects a general lack of understanding of kata, how to practice it, and why we practice it.
Kata truly is the heart of karate as it teaches us self-discipline, how to breath, functions as a catalog of all of the techniques of the system we practice, gives us an opportunity to practice outside of the dojo, and finally teaches us the lesson of life-long self-improvement and pursuit of mastery. Kata polishes the mind, spirit, and body all at the same time.
Kata is not meant to be taken linearly. As you practice, break down the specific sections and explore how each of the groups of movements can be applied. Watch videos of MMA bouts and note how often you’ll see the techniques from kata (sloppily) applied - it is often. There are only so many ways the human body can (or maybe can’t!) bend.
Another thing to consider - having a deep mastery of a few kata is much more important than having limited knowledge of many. For example, Motobu Chōki famously focused his training on kumite (fighting), makiwara practice, and the Naihanchi kata (though he also taught Wanshu, Seisan, and Passai katas). He had mastered the Naihanchi system and became famous for being one of the finest fighters on Okinawa (and to a degree, Japan).
Additionally, it is important to know that karate was not created with as many kata as exist in each system today. Rather, individuals learned and taught a small number of forms that were complimentary. As students studied under different masters and learned the forms those masters practiced, the number of kata in each system grew. However many kata you know, you should have 3 forms that you consider your own and work to deeply understand. These will become the foundation of how you respond to an attack. Also know that certain kata naturally go together and inherently represent full systems of fighting. For example, the three Naihanchi kata represent one full system of fighting. Wanshu, Ananku, and Seisan are another full system. And so are the Pinan katas.
In Okinawa’s oral and written history, there are many stories that teach lessons on karate. I’ve included three here that are particularly poignant and worth reading.
Story 1: In karate, one does not make the first move
The basis of kata is in the concept “Karate ni sente nashi,” literally translated, “In karate, one does not make the first move”. All kata begin with defense and end with defense. The kata instills the belief that the true karateka never strikes first, and never strikes in anger.
During the Satsuma occupation of Okinawa, a Japanese samurai, who had lent money to a fisherman, made a trip on collection day to Itoman Province where the fisherman lived. Unable to pay, the poor fisherman fled and tried to hide from the samurai, who was famous for his short temper. The samurai went to the fisherman’s home and, not locating him there, made a search of the town. As his search for the fisherman proved fruitless, the samurai grew furious. Finally, at twilight, he came across the fisherman cowering under an overhanging cliff. In anger, he drew his sword. "What do you have to say?” he shouted.
The fisherman replied, “Before you kill me, I want to make a statement. Can you grant me this humble request?”
The samurai said, "You ingrate! I lent you money when you needed it and also gave you a year to pay, and this is how you repay me. Out with it, before I change my mind.”
“I’m sorry,” the fisherman said. “What I want to say is this. I have just started to learn the art of the empty hand and the first thing I learned was the precept: ‘If your hand goes forth, withhold your temper; if your temper goes forth, withhold your hand.
The samurai was astounded to hear this from the lips of this simple fisherman. He put his sword back into its scabbard and said, "Well, you are right. But remember this, I shall be back one year from today, and you had better have the money ready.” Thereupon, he left.
Night had fallen when the samurai returned home and, as was the custom, he was ready to announce his return when he noticed a shaft of light streaming from his bedroom through the door, which was slightly ajar.
He peered intently from where he stood and could see his wife sleeping and the faint outline of someone sleeping next to her. He was startled and exploded in anger as he realized it was a samurai.
He drew his sword and stealthily crept towards the room. He lifted his sword and was ready to charge into the room when the words of the fisherman came to him. "If your hand goes forth, withhold your temper. If your temper goes forth, withhold your hand.”
He went back to the entrance and said in a loud voice, "I have returned.” His wife got up, opened the door and came out with his mother to greet him. His mother had his clothes on. She had put on his samurai clothes to frighten away intruders in his absence.
The year passed quickly and, come collection day, the samurai made the long trip again. The fisherman was waiting for him. As the samurai approached his home, the fisherman ran out and said, “I had a good year. Here is what I owe you and interest besides. I don’t know how to thank you.”
The samurai put his hand on the fisherman’s shoulder and said, “Keep the money. You do not owe me anything. I owe you.”
Story 2: The morality of karate
After World War Two, during the occupation of Japan, residents of a quiet street in Osaka were startled to hear the cries of men in anger and the anguish of a man in pain. It was early morning.
The people streamed out of their homes to find the source of the commotion. They stopped as they saw seven drunken foreigners beating up a native Japanese. The native was on the ground, bleeding.
“Please help me!” the beaten one yelled.
No one made a move. Japan had just lost the war, and the Osakans were afraid of retaliation from the occupation authorities if they interfered in an altercation involving foreigners. They watched helplessly as the drunks continued the beating.
Suddenly, someone pushed the drunks aside, lifted the badly beaten man, took him to the edge of the crowd and said, “Take this man to a hospital, quickly.” Then he turned to face the drunks.
The drunks exploded in frustrated anger and attacked the lone samaritan. They punched and pushed the man around, venting their hostility and outrage on the man they considered a spoilsport. They tried their best to knock the man to the ground in order to kick him, but the man did not go down. He bled from his nose, and a small trickle of blood came out of his mouth. Otherwise, he was unhurt. He stood calmly and watched the seven men pound his body.
“Why doesn’t he fight back? It is obvious he can take their blows. They may as well punch an oak tree for all the damage they are doing. They are like children milling around a grown man,” the people muttered among themselves.
One by one, the drunks realized that they were not making any headway against this man. They suddenly realized their fun was gone. The man was smiling as if to say, “Now little boys, don’t you think the game is over? Go on home.’
The seven stopped punching and slowly backed away from the man. They could not take their eyes off him. Fear set in. They looked at the crowd, suddenly panicked and fled.
The man, who was the recipient of the unprovoked beating by the seven, calmly wiped the trickle of blood from his nose and turned to the crowd. He bowed and calmly left.
In the crowd, a young man who had watched the whole scene, turned to the elderly man who was standing next to him and said, "Sensei, I recognize him. He is a karate sensei. He could have finished up the seven. I wonder why he let them beat on him like that?”
“You saw an example of the morality of karate. He knew the seven would have killed the poor man they were attacking, and he let them beat on him and vent their rage because he could take their blows.”
Story 3: Kuwada’s story
The achievement of self-perfection is more important to the martial artist who possesses it than his physical and technical ability.
Kata takes great faith, tenacity and hard work to master. Every time one practices the kata, his first move and his last move remind him of “karate ni sente nashi.” It is stressed incessantly. “In karate, there is no advantage in the first attack.”
The kata also has another advantage. In sports, there are physical adversaries. Without the adversary, a set of rules, judges and arbitrators, there is no contest.
The kata in itself is a teacher forever. One does not have to go to a dojo except to be under the eye of a sensei whose function is to see that one is going in the right direction.
However, many believe the kata is meaningless, probably because their first exposure to karate was in mere technique and the realm of physical fighting. Where the morality of karate is missing, there is no karate.
There once was such a man. Let us call him Kuwada.
Kuwada had begun martial arts training with the desire of becoming feared by all men. But he soon discovered there was no short-cut to his transformation into a master.
Discouraged by the incessant kata training, Kuwada asked his sensei, “When are we going to learn something else? I’ve been here for quite some time, and it’s kata, kata, kata, every day.”
When his sensei gave no reply, Kuwada went to the assistant to the master and made the same inquiry. He was told, “The kata training is to polish your mind. It is better to shave your mind than your head. Understand?”
Kuwada did not understand, and in protest, he left the dojo, embarking on a notorious career as the best street fighter in Shuri. He was tough. No doubt about it. “A fight a night” was Kuwada’s motto, and he often bragged, “I’m not afraid of a living man.”
One night, Kuwada eyed a stranger walking calmly alongside a stone wall. It irritated Kuwada to see such composure in a person. He ran to the cross section of the road and waited for the man to pass.
When he did, Kuwada jumped out and threw a punch, but the man avoided the blow and grabbed Kuwada’s arm. As he pulled Kuwada toward him, the man calmly stared into his eyes. Kuwada tried to pull away, but he could not. For the first time in his life, Kuwada felt a strange emotion-fear of defeat.
When the man let him go, Kuwada ran, but he glanced back to see the man calmly walk away as if nothing had happened. Kuwada later discovered the man was a master of kata; a martial artist who had never engaged in a fight in his life.
He who conquers himself is the greatest warrior. This is the highest of platitudes for the karate master.
