States of 'Muhyeong' and 'Yuhyeong' in ITF Taekwon-Do

At the end of 2023 I gave a presentation at Youngsan University's 4th International Taekwondo Conference on the muhyeong-principle in ITF Taekwon-Do. It has been my intention to develop it into an academic paper to submit with a journal, but I've been too distracted to work on that, so I'm deciding to share my draft here on my blog to the benefit of the ITF community, while I hopefully finish the paper for publication in the future. 

From Decisiveness to Adaptability: The Muhyeong-Principle in (ITF) Taekwon-Do

Introduction: Karate's Kime and Taekwon-Do's Jipjung

Taekwondo developed from a Japanese karate—mostly Shotokan Karate—foundation and although Taekwondo evolved into a uniquely Korean martial art, it still retains remnants of both technical methodology and philosophy that are rooted in Japanese martial culture. One example is the notion of kime (決め), which refers to the conspicuous full body tension performed by the karateka at the final moment of a technique. From a technical perspective, this full body tension is supposed to make the body into a solid, immovable structure to fully transfer the technique’s force into the target and prevent possible negative effects from any rebound force. The term kime literally translates as “decision,”^[1] and connotes firm decisiveness; in other words, kime suggests an unwavering execution of the technique decided upon. The isometric concentration of the whole-body musculature in kime is a manifestation of the karateka’s decisive technique. This unwavering decisiveness also manifests in the early formation of the attacking or blocking tool. When performing techniques in karate, the practitioner will keep the hand shape the same from start to finish. For instance, if the technique to be performed is a punch the hand will remain in a fist shape from beginning to end; similarly, if the technique is to be an open-handed strike, the hand will be kept in the knife-hand shape throughout the execution of the movement. This consistency in the “form” of the hand reflects kime’s connotation of an unwavering decision: once the decision to perform either a punch or a strike is made, it is resolutely executed. Within the broader context of Japanese martial arts, one may understand kime, then, as a technical expression of another idea in some Japanese martial arts, including Shotokan karate, namely: ichigeki hissatsu (一撃必殺) which translates as “one punch, certain death” or the more euphemistic expression ichigeki hitsutou (一撃必倒), “one punch, certain victory”.^[2] As such, kime which is primarily a biomechanical feature in karate also lends itself to psychological or philosophical interpretation.

Taekwondo inherited a version of kime from karate. But in taekwondo it is known as jipjung (집중), which translates as “concentration” or “focus”; the term is based on the hanja 集中, which literally translates as gathering everything together to a central point. As such, Taekwon-Do’s jipjung is employed “to concentrate every muscle of the body … towards the appropriate tool … at the proper time … onto the opponent’s vital spot”^[3]. 

In Kukki Taekwondo (the style of Taekwondo under the auspices of the Kukkiwon) the shape of the attacking or blocking tool is also predetermined like in karate; in other words, a punch will start from the hip in the shape of a fist, and a knife-hand strike will also be in the knife-hand shape from the very start of the technique. While the physical manifestation of kime is still visible in the performance of taekwondo’s fundamental movements—for instance in poomsae—, the associated Japanese philosophy of a decisive, victorious action is somewhat lost in translation, as the Korean word jipjung doesn’t have the same decisive connotation as is the case with the Japanese word kime. Instead, taekwondo’s jipjung implies the bringing together of all elements, movements, circumstances, and mental focus into a focussed point; in other words, one’s total energy focussed into the metaphoric bullseye by means of a perfect technique. 

ITF Taekwon-Do also retained the kime / jipjung principle of a whole-body isometric contraction at the final moment of the technique; however, the predetermined formation of the attacking or blocking tool has disappeared from ITF Taekwon-Do’s techniques. In ITF Taekwon-Do, techniques must initiate from a state of relaxation, and unnecessary tension of muscles while performing a movement is strongly discouraged as any engagement of antagonist muscles is believed to negatively affect the speed and resultant power with which the technique can be performed. Therefore, in performing a hand technique, the hand is kept relaxed and without any predetermined form; it is only concentrated into its appropriate shape moments before impact. For example, when performing a punch, the hand remains in “no-form” (neither flexed open nor tightly clenched closed) ^[4] and only concentrates into a fist as the hand nears the target; similarly, when performing a knife-hand strike the hand is relaxed into the hand’s natural unengaged shape and not prematurely opened into the knife-hand shape—the hand will only stiffen into this striking tool prior to contact with the target and during the moment of jipjung. 

States of Muhyeong and Yuhyeong

While the full body tension and the moment of contact with the target does have a designation in Taekwon-Do, namely jipjung, thus far this relaxed methodology that encourages a “no-form” shape of the hand does not have an official nomenclature—apart from general descriptions such as “relaxed” or “lightly clenched” and “not tightly clenched”. After research and discussions with various Korean martial art scholars I decided to designate the Sino-Korean word muhyeong (무형, 無形), which literally translates as “no form” or “without form”—implying something that is “intangible” or “amorphous”—for this principle. This is a fitting description for this relaxed “no-form” aspect in ITF Taekwon-Do techniques before they have morphed into a recognizable tool such as a knife-hand or fist shape. Inversely, the word yuhyeong (유형, 有形), meaning “physical form” or “tangible shape” can be applied to describe the attacking or blocking tool when it has “formed” into its appropriate shape moments before and during the final jipjung-climax. 

Of course, it goes without saying that when we describe the hand as being in a state of muhyeong we do not mean it literally, as if the hand is liquid or vaporous. The hand still retains the natural bio-tensegrity or fascintegrity that is innate to the living structure of complex organisms.^[5] Also, the wrist is never allowed to go limp, but is kept in a neutral position, neither bent up or down nor left or right. A hand in a state of muhyeong simply means that it is naturally relaxed and not formed into a blocking, attacking, or grappling tool. Contrariwise, a hand in a state of yuhyeong is formed into a specific tool. Muhyeong has the primary biomechanical function of keeping the limb relaxed (iwan, 이완, 弛緩), free from unnecessary antagonist muscle tensions so as not to hamper the technique’s speed. 

Techno-Philosophical Interpretation

Apart from its primary function as a method for relaxing antagonist muscles, the muhyeong-notion is also ripe for further interpretation. 

Different Approaches: Decisiveness versus Adaptability

In Karate, kime, as a “decisive” action, implies that once the karateka decides on a technique they ought to be fully committed in its execution, hence the shape of the attacking or blocking tool is predetermined and remains the same from start to finish. It would be considered “wrong,” within the Karate-context, to change one’s mind halfway through the execution of the technique. For instance, once the karateka decides to do a fore fist punch, it is improper to second-guess the decision and suddenly change the technique into a fingertip thrust, as techniques should be performed without hesitation. As such, kime in Karate resonates with a similar idea in several Japanese martial arts, namely sutemi (捨身). A literal translation of sutemi is “abandoning the body,” suggesting self-sacrifice. The implication is a total commitment to every technique without thought of any repercussions. Hence, the highest point one can achieve in Judo is called an “ippon” (一本), translating to one full point or decisive victory^[6]. Both kime and ippon emphasize the importance of decisiveness and achieving a clear outcome attained by complete commitment to executing a technique with full intention and power.

On the other hand, the muhyeong-principle in ITF Taekwon-Do frees the practitioner from such predetermination. Since the attacking or blocking tool only fully manifests in a proper shape (yuhyeong) towards the end of the movement, the Taekwon-Do practitioner is theoretically free to adapt the technique as the situation changes. Therefore, it is quite acceptable within the Taekwon-Do context to change a technique strategically: a punch may become a backfist strike; a front kick may suddenly change into a turning kick; a side kick might suddenly morph into an offensive hook kick. Those familiar with Taekwon-Do sparring will immediately recognize this as a common strategic feature of Taekwon-Do. For instance, kicks are often adapted mid-execution to adjust for the opponent’s movements or to exploit new openings in their guard. Furthermore, this helps to prevent a level of telegraphing, because even when the movement has started the exact technique is not fully knowable until near the end of its execution. 

Relation to East Asian Philosophy

I believe that this muhyeong concept is consistent with some East Asian philosophical ideas that have a long historic association with East Asian martial arts theory. 

Eum-Yang

First, the Daoist concept of taegeuk, (태극; Chinese: 太極, taiji) and its associated eumyang-principle (음양; Chinese: 陰陽, yinyang), is a core idea in East Asian cosmology and often used by East Asian martial arts as a theoretical bases for describing techniques. There are already several approaches for understanding the eumyang-principle in taekwondo. For instance, Dr Stephen Capener argues for interpreting the eumyang-principle as “full and empty space” to explain Taekwon-Do sparring strategy.^[7] For him, during a sparring match, the dynamic interchange of the competitors’ limbs in motion and inevitable appearance and disappearance of viable targets for attack represent “full” and “empty” spaces. An understanding of such full and empty spaces allows for both strategic sparring application and philosophical interpretation. Furthermore, some Korean scholars promote the idea of gangyu (강유, 剛柔), meaning “hardness and softness,” as an application of the eumyang-principle in Taekwon-Do but viewed through a Neo-Confucian lens. Gangyu can basically be understood as those particular binary aspects in Taekwon-Do, such as offensive and defensive techniques. My proposal of “form” and “no-form” (in ITF Taekwon-Do) is likewise an exploration of the eumyang-principle. If a Taekwon-Do technique has a moment of deliberate high tension, where the whole body is concentrated into an unmoving, isometric firmness (in other words, jipjung), it only makes sense that it should also have the opposite, namely a phase of deliberate relaxation (iwan) and fluidity. Similarly, since a technique is only recognized as such at the final moment when it expresses into its clearest form (yuhyeong), it goes without saying that it also has a preformed or amorphous state (muhyeong). 

Muwi 

This muhyeong idea, which allows a practitioner a level of liberty to adapt the technique naturally according to changing circumstances resonates with yet another concept from Daoist philosophy, namely muwi (무위; Chinese: wuwei, 無為), which translates as “non-doing” or “no effort”. Within Daoist teaching, this doesn’t literally mean to not do anything, but rather not to force a situation and instead allow things to unfold naturally. Many martial arts have taken up the muwi principle to mean that a good technique is one in which the greatest result is achieved with the least amount of effort. This principle of efficacy directly relates to the biomechanical purpose of muhyeong which is to ensure that only the necessary agonist muscles are engaged in their proper sequence, and the antagonist muscles are appropriately relaxed, subsequently resulting in the most efficacious movement. 

Mugeuk and Mushim

Furthermore, in Daoist thought mu (無) does not mean mere nothingness; instead, it relates to the “Void” (無極; Korean: mugeuk, 무극), the place of incipience, which contains all potentialities. For the trained martial artist this connects to that spontaneous, reflexive, and masterful bringing forth of the right technique at the right time; in other words, the most appropriate technique hitting the best target at just the right moment. This is different from the kime-concept that implies an active decision. From a Daoist paradigm, the most appropriate technique is not “decided” but rather allowed to manifest without conscious thought naturally and spontaneously. Just as the hand can be described as in a state of muhyeong, so the whole person—body and mind—may manifest muhyeong. This is not conceived as a structureless body and unconsciousness mind, but rather as a body filled with potentiality and a mind open to all options. Daoist and Buddhist meditative practices calls this mental state mushim (무심; Chinese: wushin, 無心; Japanese: mushin). Mushim suggests a mental state of no-mindedness; or a “mind empty of all thought or emotion” so that it is able “to respond to any external stimuli, allowing free expression of any response technique.”^[8] In other words, the ability to do defensive and counter-attack techniques reflexively, without thinking. 

This muhyeong state is of course a transitional state, from a state of potentiality to the yuhyeong state of actuality. As the transition happens, the various potentialities or technique possibilities become fewer and fewer, until finally only one possibility remains. In practise this means that the movement starts out relaxed, but slowly more muscles will become engaged until finally all muscles are engaged. Thus, yuhyeong and jipjung converge. When, from the vast sea of potential techniques, the most appropriate technique is actualized, perfection occurs. Or as Capener puts it: “bringing order to chaos through skillful technique.”^[9] Of course, for this to occur the practitioner must have physically mastered various potentialities, which is a great arsenal of efficacious techniques (or fundamental movements). Only then can the most appropriate technique come forth without conscious thought or physical restraint. As such, muwi as a philosophical extension of muhyeong does not mean no effort in training, but rather so much training and mastery of techniques that when a technique is performed it seems effortless, which is—as all martial artists know—the difference between the novice and the expert. This implies that fundamental movements ought to be trained—or rather—drilled to such a level that they can manifest effortlessly. 

Practical Considerations

Returning from the philosophical to the practical, there are important technical aspects regarding the point of impact with the target that is crucial to discuss. We may ask: ‘When, during the execution of the movement, is the moment of contact with target?’ To make the question more tangible, let’s focus on a specific technique, the front fore fist punch: ‘When performing a front fore fist punch, at what point of the arm’s extension (and the hand’s rotation) should the fist reach its target?’ Asked differently, ‘When should the full transformation from muhyeong to yuhyeong occur?’

There are two reasons these questions are crucial. First, if the hand is still in a state of muhyeong at the moment of impact with the target, there is a high possibility of the hand getting injured since it is not formed into a proper, stable attacking tool (yuhyeong) that can withstand the force of the impact. It is therefore imperative that the hand not make impact with the target too early. Second, all techniques accelerate and then suddenly decelerates at the end of the movement. The deceleration can happen either because it reached its target (e.g., the fist hits the opponent), or because the arm has reached its full extension, which means it naturally stops. The implication of this is that since force is the product of mass times acceleration, the highest moment of the technique’s force cannot be at the very end when the limb is fully extended, as by that time it has decelerated to zero. Ergo, the highest moment of potential force is a point along the trajectory, when the limb is at its highest point of acceleration, before any deceleration starts. Therefore, we want to ideally hit the target at this point when the limb’s speed is at its greatest, which is a point before the limb is fully extended. But how can we know when that is?

Taekwon-Do convention advocates that when performing a front fore fist punch, the punch should rotate upon contact with the target. Various reasons for this rotation are proposed, but I’ll leave that aside for now. What I want to focus on here is simply that, according to tradition, the fist should rotate on the target. What this implies, then, is that the moment the fist starts rotating is also conceivably the moment of initial impact—the full rotational corkscrew of the fist is supposed to coincided with the deeper penetration of the technique towards the true target that is beyond the surface skin. For instance, when we aim for the solar plexus, we are not merely aiming for the spot right under the sternum, but rather for a point deeper within the torso.^[10]

Different instructors promote different times in the execution of the punch for the rotation to occur. Some suggest the final third of the movement, others say at the last quarter before full extension. Unfortunately, scientific studies that measure the highest moment of acceleration in all ITF Taekwon-Do techniques are yet to be done.^[11] There are, however, some studies with regards to punches in Karate and Kukki Taekwon-Do worth mentioning. Based on punching experiments mentioned by Master Nakayama, the “maximum speed occurs at just around 70 percent of full extension”^[12]. An academic article focussing on Karate punches states that the “maximum speed was recorded as a point between 70 and 80 [percent]” of full extension.^[13] The Kukkiwon’s Taekwondo Textbook (2022) suggests that this point is at “80% of the arm’s length”.^[14] So the oral tradition in ITF Taekwon-Do that advocates for the rotation to start at around the final quarter of the movement seems to be correct.

What this suggests is that by this point (i.e., the point of highest velocity), yuhyeong (i.e., the formation of the attacking tool) ought to occur. Of course, the point of highest velocity will be slightly different depending on the technique and also purpose. But until scientific research is done to determine the likely points for different techniques, we can—for practical purposes—assume the same rule of thumb that the point of highest velocity occurs at roughly 75% of the full extension of the limb, or around the final quarter of the technique.

Earlier in this discussion it may have seemed that I equated yuhyeong and jipjung. However, based on the preceding it is obvious that this is not the case. Yuhyeong occurs slightly prior to jipjung. Yuhyeong (the formation of the tool) happens at around three-quarters of the movement, while jipjung (isometric concentration of the whole body) is a bit closer to the end of the movement. However, the precise commencement of the two are within fractions of a second of each other. Though they do conclude at the same time. 

Conclusion

A very important departure in ITF Taekwon-Do’s evolution out of Karate is the muhyeong-principle. This kinaesthetic principle has technical, strategic, and philosophical applications and implications. Technically it contributes to more relaxed movement which are theoretically capable of greater acceleration. It is important, however, to keep practical considerations in mind when employing the muhyeong-principle. While muhyeong may have some technical advantages, it may also lead to possible injuries when practitioners fail to apply yuyeong in time. For instance, if it is not formed into an appropriate blocking, attacking, or grappling tool before contact with the opponent, the hand might be injured. Strategically, the muhyeong-principle allows for greater adaptability. Taekwon-Do techniques are allowed to change mid-execution to adapt for changes in the combat dynamics. This level of freedom may have contributed to Taekwon-Do’s creative expression that led to the creation of various innovative techniques. And philosophically the muhyeong-principle resonates with Daoist concepts such as muwi and mushim. For people who find this East Asian philosophical interpretations too esoteric, I recommend another interpretive lens, that of Sport Psychology. The same muwi and mushim ideas can be understood as part of the “flow” state, which is a mental condition where an athlete is fully immersed in their performance; it is often described as being “in the zone,” where athletes experience a merging of action and awareness, making their performance effortless and automatic.

^[1] The equivalent Korean word is gyeoljeong (결정, 決定), meaning decision or resolution. However, this term is not commonly employed to describe Taekwon-Do techniques.

^[2] General Choi famously also made a calligraphy of this phrase (一撃必倒), which is printed in the ITF Taekwon-Do Encyclopaedia. The Korean (일격필승) Romanizes as ilgyeok pilseung.

^[3] Choi, H. H., (1999). Encyclopaedia of Taekwon-Do. Vol. 2, p. 20. 

^[4] Another Korean martial art, Subyeok-Chigi (수벽치기), which has a similar concept of not forming the attacking tool prematurely, calls this hand shape banjum (반줌), literally “half fist”. I use this term when I want to discuss the relaxed hand shape before it concentrates into a tool specifically; when I want to keep the philosophical idea of muhyeong and yuhyeong out of the discussion.

^[5] Bordoni, B., Varacallo, M. A., Morabito, B., and Simonelli, M. (June 03, 2019). “Biotensegrity or Fascintegrity?” Cureus 11(6): e4819. DOI 10.7759/cureus.4819

^[6] The ippon is to Judo what the knockout punch is to Western boxing: clear victory.

^[7] Capener, S. D. (1995.) “Problems in the Identity and Philsophy of T’aegwondo and Their Historical Causes.” Korea Journal. (1995: Winter.)

^[8] Rielly, R. L. (1998). Complete Shotokan Karate: The Samurai Legacy and Modern Practise. (p. 80.)

^[9] Capener, S. D. (1995.) “Problems in the Identity and Philsophy of T’aegwondo and Their Historical Causes.” Korea Journal. (1995: Winter.)

^[10] The solar plexus is a common target in many martial arts. However, few people realize how deep the solar plexus is within the body. What is known as the “solar plexus” is a cluster of nerves roughly 10-12 cm from the front surface of the body, nearer to the front of the spine. It is very unlikely that one would penetrate the body from the front with a punch deep enough to reach the solar plexus. The usual effects we witness from strikes to the solar plexus is probably due to the shock to other organs that are much closer to the surface, such as the diaphragm. 

^[11] Regrettably, I doubt there is an ITF organization with the desire to start such a project even though such studies would be invaluable to the scientific understanding of ITF Taekwon-Do. I can only hope that my work inspire other individual Taekwon-Do scholars with the knowledge and means to undertake such research.

^[12] Nakayama, M. (1967). Dynamic Karate. 

^[13] Walker, J. D. (1975). “Karate Strikes”. American Journal of Physics. Vol 43:10 (pp. 845-849).
^[14] Choi, C. & Lee, S. (2022). Taekwondo Textbook: 2 Basic. Kukkiwon.

Korea Deconstructed Interview

At the end of last year I was a guest on the Korea Deconstructed podcast by Dr David Tizzard, in which we spoke about my life in Korea, Taekwon-Do, and East Asian and martial arts philosophy. Korea Deconstructed is a great podcast that covers all things related to Korean: culture, history, politics. The guests are often scholars researching various aspects of Korea. If you are interested into a deep dive into Korean culture, this is a great podcast to follow. 

As for Dr Tizzard, he has a PhD in Korean Studies and writes a weekly column for Korea Times magazine. 

... Sanko Lewis

2024 UNESCO ICM's International Martial Arts Seminar and Book Donations

Last week I participated at the 2024 UNESCO ICM's annual International Martial Arts Seminar. This year the topic focused on mental health and wellbeing through sports and martial arts. 

I am thankful to have been invited and enjoyed learning from all the speakers and other participants. It was great to see some familiar faces, such as Prof Steven Capener and Prof Brian Moore, and also make some new connections.  

I've actually been meaning to visit UNESCO-ICM to donate some books to their fledgling library, which is the only library specifically dedicated to martial arts that I am aware of. 

First, on behalf of Prof Ron Dziwenka, the president of IACT (International Academic Conference for Taekwondo), I donated two books published by IACT, authored by Prof Allan Back and the late grandmaster Daeshik Kim, and edited by Dr John A. Johnson. The books "Foundations of Taekwondo: History, Theory, Academics" and "Martial Meditations: Philosophy and the Essence of Martial Arts" can be ordered through Amazon. 

I also personally donated some books. First, General Choi Honghi's autobiography ("Taekwon-Do and I") in Korean, and the Korean version of the ITF Taekwon-Do Condensed Encyclopedia. The latter is quite difficult to get hold of and quite pricy. But as I had more than one copy, I felt it an important book for the UNESCO-ICM library to have in its collection. Choi Honghi's books were previously banned in South Korea. 

I also donated a copy of my PhD dissertation "Promoting Peace, Practising War: Mohism's Resolution of the Paradoxical Ethics of War and Self-Defence in East Asian Martial Arts". I also donated other books of which I had extra copies, including: "Combative Elbow Strikes: A Guide to Strikes, Blocks, Locks and Take Downs" by Jeff Rosser, a self-defence booklet "NTN Selvforsvar", of the National Taekwon-Do Norway, by Roy Rolstad, and "Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu: Theory and Technique" by Renzo Gracie and Royler Gracie.

The book donations were received by UNESCO-ICM's Secretary-General Gyujig Kim, who graciously indulged me for photos, and Library Custodian Seonghye Hong who will place the books in their new home at the UNESCO-ICM library. 

Thank you to the staff of UNESCO-ICM for your hard work and for always treating your guests wonderfully. I especially want to mention Hyewon Lee who organized this year's seminar and who invited me to be a participant during the 'expert round table'.

Taekwon-Do and Social Justice

While searching through one of my folders, I came upon an essay I wrote for Totally Tae Kwon Do Magazine (Issue #138 - August 2020). Usually the essays and articles I write for Totally TKD develop out of drafts that I publish here on this blog, but I noticed that this particular essay didn't evolve from the blog, but was rather a reworking of an academic presentation that I delivered in 2019. So I thought it would be good to share the essay here as well. The essay below is a somewhat amended version of the original one published in 2020. 

 I also recommend anyone who is a Taekwon-Do geek, like myself, to subscribe to Totally Tae Kwon Do Magazine -- it is the only monthly (electronic) magazine dedicated to sharing news, opinions, interviews, and essays on Taekwon-Do. 

...ooOoo...

Taekwon-Do and Social Justice

By Dr Sanko Lewis

A year ago, I presented a paper in South Korea, at Youngsan University’s 1^st International Academic Taekwondo Conference. I titled my presentation “From Individual Heroes to National Performers: The Shift in Taekwondo’s Peace Promotion Duty.” Since then the paper has been accepted for publication in the Physical Activity Review Vol. 8(2), 2020*, with Dr. John Johnson as co-author. In the article we point out that the early Taekwon-Do pioneers saw Taekwon-Do practitioners as heroes of justice.

In his 1957 Korean Karate textbook Pasa Gwanbeop, Park Chul-hee’s envisioned martial arts training as a way to:

·       build an indomitable spirit

·       and a sound character

·       so that one would dash at the cause of justice,

·       and make a contribution to world peace.

 

In 1965, Choi Hong-hi wrote in the first book using the term “Taekwon-Do” that Taekwon-Do should be:

·       a weapon for self-defence,

·       to defend justice,

·       to defend the weak.

Lee Won-kuk’s Taekwondo Manual from 1968 states that Taekwon-Do trainees should:

·       love peace,

·       protect justice and humanitarianism,

·       and not initiate fights.

 

Choi Hong-hi’s 1975 book Taekwon-Do: The Korean Art of Self-Defense admonishes practitioners to:

·       be gentle to the weak and tough to the strong,

·       be champions of freedom and justice,

·       and build a more peaceful world.

 

Based on these writings, we can deduce how the early pioneers envisioned the ideal Taekwon-Do practitioner: an individual with a morally sound character, noted for their courage and indomitable spirit, who toughen their bodies and perfect their techniques to be able to defend themselves and the weak from abuse, and promote justice and (world) peace.

For many modern practitioners, Taekwon-Do is just a sport, so Taekwon-Do athletes may not feel that their participation in Taekwon-Do necessitate that they take a particular moral stance or actively step up to protect the weak or stand up for justice, any more than say a soccer player does. However, those that partake in Taekwon-Do as a martial art—a “Way”—, rather than just a combat sport, are implicitly agreeing to use their ability to protect the weak against the strong. In fact, some martial art philosophers such as Daeshik Kim and Allan Bäck, for instance, argue that everyone—who wants to be a good person—has a moral duty to become proficient in self-defense for the sake of self-preservation and to protect others from harm.

Coming up for someone that is being bullied or rushing to the aid of a victim of violence ought to be the default behavior of a Mudo-in 무도인 (“martial-Way-person”). Doing so, of course, is highly likely to have the violence previously directed at the victim now directed at your own person. That is why one ought not have false confidence. Hence, the Taekwon-Do pioneers urged practitioners to have their courage founded upon the sincerity of hard practice. To oppose violence, one needs to have a toughened body and proper combative skill combined with courage.

However, the “clear” responsibility to defend the weak against violence is not the only responsibility the early pioneers promoted. They also declared a duty towards upholding and defending justice. It is easy to see the injustice of a stronger person bullying a weaker person, but other injustices are often less obvious. What type of justice(s) should Taekwon-Do practitioners fight for? Is it only regulated to the injustice of bullying and physical violence, or does it include other human rights violations? If you believe that there are systems in place that mistreat or oppress certain people in society then we, as martial artists, should support such movements. Systems and policies that somehow subjugate people—that treat one group of society differently, oppressively—are akin to the abuse by bullies of their victims. If we oppose the abusive behavior of bullies, then we ought to oppose the abusive behavior of bullying systems. But it is all to easy to become swept up by a movement without having thought it through and researched for clear evidence.

The question of “justice” is unfortunately not always clear, and some social justice topics can be quite polarizing. Consider some of the following justice/rights issues; while reading through the list notice the emotional reflexes and immediate opinions that arise within you:

• Climate Justice (How climate change disproportionately impact marginalized communities.)
• Healthcare Access
• Racial Justice
• LGBTQIA+ Rights
• Economic Inequality
• Refugee Crises (The plight of refugees and displaced peoples due to conflict, persecution, or environmental disasters, but also the issue of illegal immigration)
• Gender (In)equality
• Gun Violence
• Agism 
• Body Autonomy
• Indigenous Rights
• Disability Rights
• DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion)
• Geopolitical conflicts (e.g., Russia-Ukraine, Israel-Palestine, China-Taiwan, etc.)

I may have strong opinions on specific contentious issues and possibly you have equal but opposing views. How active should Taekwon-Do practitioners be involved in such matters? Some of these issues may be cultural and situational, making it difficult for a lay person—i.e., someone who is not an ethicist—to decipher. And even when a martial arts instructor has a particular opinion, they might not be inclined to support it openly for fear of losing students. (This is where the tenet of integrity comes in.)

If we decide to take the moral teachings of Taekwon-Do seriously, we as Taekwon-Do practitioners ought not ignore the suffering of the weak and oppressed. Based on the writings of the early pioneers, Taekwon-Do practitioners should oppose oppression (injustices) and defend (support) the weak. Practitioners who takes Taekwon-Do's moral teachings seriously cannot ignore the injustices around them. Yet, I would caution against jumping on the bandwagon just because a particular cause is popular at that moment. It is best to make informed decisions rather that rash, emotional ones. Read widely, get informed about important issues, and try talking to people outside of your “bubble.” We are living in a #PostTruth world in which misinformation and disinformation abound, which makes it ever more important to avoid rashness, lest in our emotional foolhardiness we find ourselves fighting on the wrong side. It is not for naught that the Daoist's teach caution over false heroic brashness. 

In choosing social injustices to oppose, consider the adage: “choose your battles wisely”. Part of what this means is to choose the battles within your sphere of influence. There are too many injustices in this world for you to fight against. Trying to oppose them all will spread you out too thin and burn you out emotionally, making your contribution ineffective. Choose the battles that present themselves before you, the ones at hand, the ones in your own community where you can make an actual contribution. As the proverb says, “charity begins at home.” It is useless virtue signaling to make TikTok-videos about some abstract social justice issue, but ignore the homeless person on the street corner who has nowhere to sleep because your local city council put spikes under bridges and partitions on park benches. 

Likewise, I would also caution against becoming a “keyboard warrior”—i.e., someone who “fights” on social media. While cyber space has indeed become an extension of our normal (off-line) lives, we should be careful not to fall into the trap of thinking that our online activism is more important or a substitute for ‘real world’ contributions.

Of course, in our effort to help build a more peaceful world, we ought not initiate fights and try to avoid violence; at the same time, the pioneers told us to bravely dash towards the cause of justice and to protect it, and to defend the weak, regardless of their “religion, race, national or ideological boundaries,” against both physical harm and injustice. On this note, I think we should learn from the experience of being part of a global family through Taekwon-Do. I have been blessed with opportunities to visit different countries where I have trained and conducted seminars: I have also met many visitors to Korea—where I live—from around the world, and have gained friends from very diverse ethnicities, cultures, and religious backgrounds. Through our shared love of Taekwon-Do we were able to transcend our superficial differences to form lasting and valuable friendships. Before painting people who are different to you as the “other,” let this lesson from Taekwon-Do remind us of our common humanity.

There is also another object lesson to be learned from martial arts practice: it is when I face my opponent that my training becomes actualized; my opponent is therefore not an enemy, but an opportunity for growth. If possible, try not to see those people you consider your ‘enemies’ in society as such—let them not be ‘The Enemy,’ but rather view them as training partners in this journey we call life. And after the fight is done, let us hug, and shake hands, and bow to each other.

…ooOoo…

* http://www.physactiv.eu/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/2020_82_9.pdf

The Muhyeong (No-Form) Principle in ITF Taekwon-Do

On 22 November 2023 I delivered a paper entitled "From Decisiveness to Adaptability: The Muhyeong-Principle in (ITF) Taekwondo" at the 4th International Taekwondo Conference under the theme "Martial Arts Meditations: Philosophical Issues and Contemporary Research on Taekwondo", organized by Youngsan University (South Korea) with the support of Kasetsart University (Thailand), on occasion of the 40th Anniversary of Youngsan University. 

It was an online conference, so the organizer requested us to prerecord our presentations and then join the conference via Zoom for panel discussions. Below is the recording I made, and below that is the abstract of the paper. 

ABSTRACT: 

From Decisiveness to Adaptability: The Muhyeong-Principle in (ITF) Taekwondo

Dr. Sanko Lewis

This paper explores one aspect in the evolution of taekwondo from karate. Karate emphasizes kime (“decision”), manifested as the isometric concentration of the whole body at the final moment of the technique. Taekwondo inherited this concept but named it jipjung (“concentration”). Taekwondo’s jipjung retains the physical aspects of kime, but underlying philosophical connotations differ. Furthermore, the ITF style of taekwondo introduces the concept of muhyeong, meaning “no-form,” which functions as the complementary opposite of jipjung. If jipjung represents the moment when the technique is concentrated into its clearest form, muhyeong represents the unformed state of the technique—the state of potentiality. This emphasis on the relaxed and formless part of the overall movement enhances muscular efficiency and offers strategic adaptability. It may also be interpreted as aligning with East Asian philosophical ideas, such as eumyang (yinyang), muwi (wuwei), and mushim (mushin).

Keywords: Taekwondo, karate, kime, jipjung, muhyeong, East Asian philosophy, martial arts philosophy.

6th Dan Promotion

I was promoted earlier this month (November 2023) to 6th Dan by Taekwon-Do pioneer Grandmaster Lee Yoosun. My previous black belt test to 5th Dan, in April 2014, was also by a Taekwon-Do pioneer, Grandmaster Park Jongsoo. 

In both cases the promotions were a bit unexpected. When I got my 4th Dan here in South Korea under Master Kim Hoon, I was relatively content with my rank. I had started working on a PhD in Taekwondo at Kyunghee University, so I really didn’t feel a need for any higher ranking anymore. However, Master Kim Hoon told me that he wants me to be promoted by one of the original pioneers and said that when Grandmaster Park Jongsoo visits Korea again, he will arrange a test for me under this legendary martial artist. Then one day, Master Kim Hoon told me that Grandmaster Park will visit within two weeks, and I’ll have my test then. It felt very sudden, but I made the most of that forewarning to get ready for the test; and it was an honour to spend time with Grandmaster Park and be promoted by him. 

Something similar occurred recently with Grandmaster Lee Yoosun. We connected the first time in 2015, but it wasn’t until recently that we spent some time together and started to communicate more regularly. (Gransmaster Lee lives in Busan, Korea for half of the year and the other half he spents at his home in Houston, Texas.) My goal with getting to know Grandmaster Lee was mostly to learn about Taekwon-Do’s early history related to my research in the evolution of Taekwon-Do (which is part of my research on Korean body culture). Black belt promotion was not on my mind, so when Grandmaster Lee indicated his intention to promote me to 6th Dan I was hesitant at first. 

Some people are eager for promotions. If I was similarly punctual, based on mere time of practice, I would have been 7th Dan by now. However, for me the martial arts journey is not about belts, but knowledge gained and personal mastery – mastery over the self, which is a constant struggle (for me). I agree with the Kukkiwon’s recent description of “Geukgi” (which they translate as self-mastery / self-discipline) as foundational to Taekwon-Do philosophy. And since I always feel that I have much more to learn, and that I need much more self-mastery, I’ve always been somewhat reluctant for promotion. 

However, I contacted many of my trusted Taekwon-Do friends and they all strongly recommended that I accept the offer for promotion. GM Lee promoted me just before he returned from Korea to the United States. I look forward to meeting and learning from him again when he returns to Korea next year. 

I remain forever thankful to the many instructors and influential friends who keep pushing me to be better, particularly my first instructor, Mr. Johan Bolton, and my Korean big brother, Master Kim Hoon. And I’m especially thankful that another Taekwon-Do pioneer, Grandmaster Lee, approve of my journey in Taekwon-Do so far.  

-- Sanko Lewis

Soo Shim Rock

My original Taekwon-Do school that I opened in 1998 was simply named Potchefstroom Taekwon-Do Club and it kept that name for the 25 years that it ran at the North West University in Potchefstroom, South Africa. However, when the national governing body restructured in 2001, chief instructors who oversaw more than one school had to choose a name for their association of schools, which were called “Kwan”, inspired by the legendary original Kwan in South Korea which were the foundations of what would eventually become Taekwon-Do. (The word “Kwan” 관 actually means building, by implication a training hall. But within the martial arts community back then it suggested a home or family for a particular style. In South Korea there were five original Kwan. The number increased to nine before – with the exception of one Kwan – they all eventually merged into one system: Tae Kwon Do. Within roughly a decade and a half, Tae Kwon Do would become two distinct styles: ITF Taekwon-Do and Kukki/WT Taekwondo. But I digress…) 

As one of the chief instructors I had to choose a name for my Kwan. I knew immediately which name it would be: Soo Shim Kwan. I had read the philosophical phrase “Soo Shim” a few years prior, in 1997, in an issue of Tae Kwon Do Times magazine. The concept immediately resonated with me. Soo means water. Shim means heart or mind. The implication is to be like water. Now were you to ask the average Korean what “soo shim” means, they would probably think of various homonyms based on other root words ranging from “water level” to “melancholy”. However, were you to mention the term to either a philosopher or an erudite martial artist, you would get nods of knowing approval. The metaphor of water to describe one’s movements and mental state is a well-known and appreciated symbol within certain martial arts circles and East Asian schools of thought. (I provide a short overview of this here.)

As an intangible philosophical concept, there isn’t really a special place or particular thing one can visit that has relevance to “Soo Shim”. Or so I thought… One day, probably in search of more philosophical information on the concept, I stumbled upon a little article of some ancient calligraphy carved into a rock with the characters for “Soo Shim”. Of course, this made me elated, and I put it on my bucket list to go find this rock. Well, recently on my way back to Seoul from a trip to Jeongju, I noticed that with only about an hour’s detour, I would be able to go see the “Soo Shim”-rock at last. 

 

 

This little trip would not have been of much interest to most other people, but to me it was very special. The stone carving was nearly imperceptible. The paint that used to emblazon the engraved characters were mostly worn away with time and weathering. Nevertheless, I immediately recognized the letters that had been part of my life and thinking for over two decades. And while my connection with this place was simply one of my own making, it felt nevertheless meaningful.
 

Confucian scholar and calligrapher Song Si-yeol, known by his penname Uam

The characters were calligraphed by Master Song Si-yeol (1607-1698), penname Uam, an esteemed Confucian scholar who lived during the mid-Joseon Dynasty. The reason for the engravement on that particular rock is twofold. First, it is simply the name of the rock: “Sooshimdae” (Sooshim-rock). The rock is also central to a scattering of villages that were arranged in the pattern of the Chinese character "shim" [心]. Not far from this location is a stream; hence one could sit on the rock in the shade of the pine trees and peacefully observe the water passing by. The implication is that the rock was a place of meditation. Secondly, it was in honour of a famous teacher and patriot Jo Heon (趙憲) (1544-1592), a civil official who devoted himself to learning and teaching in that area. He lived roughly a hundred years before Master Song. Jo Heon was known for frequently visiting this rock and apparently he was the one who named the rock “Sooshimdae”. In some of his writings he referred to the area as both a haven and a place for raising one’s spirits (qi). 

Civil servant and teacher turned militia leader, Jo Heong

 
In 1592 the Japanese invaded Korea; Jo raised about 700 civilian troops as a volunteer militia in the Geumsan region to fight against the invaders. Their initial guerrilla tactics proved successful and there joined attack on the Japanese-occupied Chongju with the warrior monk Yonggyu and his militia freed Chongju. However, in a subsequent battle in Geumsan, Jo and his army were defeated and killed. Jo Heon was posthumously promoted to “minister in charge of public administration” by King Seonjo in 1604 and again to “prime minister” in 1609 by King Gwanghae in recognition of his services to his country. Joheon Sadang, a shrine where memorial services for Jo Heon are held was originally built in 1734 during the reign of King Yengjo. The original shrine building continued to deteriorate so it was rebuilt at the present site, right next to one of Jo Heon’s favourite places, the Sooshim-rock. The shrine building was built with donations from provincial schools, Confucian scholars, and Jo Heon’s descendants. Joheon Sadang has been dedicated as a Tangible Cultural Heritage (Material No. 26) for Chungcheongnam Province, and belongs to the Baecheon Jo-family.
 
Of course, for many readers of this blog, the Sooshim-rock and the story of Jo Heong is of little value. However, for those of you that consider yourself part of the Soo Shim Kwan family it might be interesting. I found it serendipitous that the “Soo Shim” concept has such a tremendously long history in Korea; I loved that this rock is named after it, as a place for contemplation, a place of meditation on “Soo Shim”; and that one person who meditated on “Soo Shim” also became a militia leader when circumstances required of him to protect his country against an invading army.

Taekwondo as a Transmodern Martial Art: Transcending Premodern and Modern Paradigms

In December of 2020 I posted an essay here in which I proposed a classification of martial arts as premodern, modern, and transmodern. This led to an interview with the Combat Learning Podcast, and a follow up essay on the idea of Postmodern martial arts.

Then earlier this year I was invited to give a presentation at Youngsan University's 3rd International Taekwondo Conference (jointly organized with Kasetsart University's KU Taekwondo Academy). So, I decided to revisit the topic of premodern, modern, and transmodern martial arts -- specifically focusing on Taekwondo. I forgot to post the recording of my presentation at the conference earlier, but I finally got around to posting it here.

 

Beating Swords into Ploughshares: Pondering Peace and Martial Arts

Beating Swords into Ploughshares:  Pondering Peace and Martial Arts
By Dr. Sanko Lewis

Presentation given at the 5th African Martial Arts Conference (“Solidarity in Action: Beyond Martial Arts Partnership”) on 25 October 2022, in Chungju, South Korea. (Organized by UNESCO-ICM.)

• “A military is a tool of misfortune, all things detest it … when one is compelled to use it, it is best to do so without relish, for there is no glory in victory … When people have many sharp weapons, the country becomes more chaotic” – Laozi (Daodejing, Chptrs 31 & 57)
• “There are men who say ‘I am skilful at marshalling troops, I am skilful at conducting a battle!’ They are great criminals” – Mencius (Jin Xin II, 50)
• “Those who live by the sword, die by the sword” – Jesus (Matthew 26)

Many great spiritual teachers have warned against martial activities. The very idea that we can use martial arts (or ‘skills of war’) for peace promotion is illogical. Yet it is something many martial artists propose. It was this paradox that was the main topic of my PhD dissertation entitled: “Preaching Peace, Practising War: Mohism’s Resolution of the Paradoxical Ethics of War and Self-Defence in East Asian Martial Arts”.

For this conference, I was asked to talk to you about using martial arts for peace, and this I will do, but with some hesitation, for I don’t think we should romanticize the martial arts, lest we forget that just as swords are forged for war, so too were the martial arts. Nevertheless, I’ll suggest that the martial arts can be used to promote peace in two broad ways—or rather, at two levels: first, at a governmental diplomatic level in the form of soft diplomacy; and second, at an personal or intra-personal level.

Martial arts have been used with a relative degree of success for soft power in the form of cultural- and sports diplomacy. “Soft power is the ability to affect others to obtain the outcomes one wants through attraction and persuasion rather than coercion or payment” (Nye, 2019). For example, let’s see how South Korea used martial arts as soft diplomacy. Before South Korea’s export of K-Pop and K-Drama, its main cultural export was martial arts: taekwondo and hapkido. From as early as the 1950s, South Korean martial arts instructors were sent abroad as soft power emissaries. Such instructors were often working closely with the local South Korean embassies and to this day continue to do so with other Korean organizations such as KOICA (Korea International Cooperation Agency), which falls under South Korea’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Through such cultural dissemination, South Korea created positive sentiment in millions of Korean martial arts practitioners around the world—and now possibly billions of K-Pop and K-Drama fans.

Taekwon-Do demonstration team members from North Korean and South Korea,
after performing together under the slogan: "Peace is more precious than triumph".

Taekwondo has also been used specifically for diplomacy between North Korean and South Korea. “The most prominent of these occurred in 2018 and 2019 when a series of joint performances with ROK and DPRK taekwondo demonstration teams were held across the ROK. These demonstrations led to other joint performances at a pre-opening ceremony of the 2019 PyeongChang Winter Olympic Games in the ROK and at taekwondo facilities in the DPRK. These performances initiated a renewed interest in dialogue between the DPRK and ROK as well as the DPRK and the US. A series of summits followed between the leaders of these three adversaries stuck in a 70-year long stalemate.” (Johnson & Lewis, 2020). Of course, there are limits to the success of these endeavours. Figuratively speaking, taekwondo was able to kick open the doors for peace talks, but the political leaders were not able to maintain the momentum of these peace negotiations. Unfortunately, taekwondo could not kick through the complicated obstacles of geopolitics. 

The Olympic Games provides an opportunity for athletes, sometimes even from antagonistic nations, to come together in a spirit of sportsmanship. Similarly, there are martial arts sporting events that do the same. The Asian Games, which after the Olympic Games is the biggest global sporting event, contains several combative sports beyond those that are in the Olympic Games. While the Olympic Games includes archery, boxing, fencing, judo, and taekwondo, the Asian Games also includes jujitsu, karate, and wushu. Other events like the International Martial Art Games and the numerous world championships of the many martial arts organizations around the world create liminal spaces for people to come together in a spirit of comradery. There are few other scenarios other than at such sporting events where people from antagonistic countries can come together, mingle and even become friends—all because of their shared love for their sport and martial arts.  

Russian and Ukrainian Taekwon-Do practitioners
sitting side-by-side at a Taekwon-Do Championship.
(Photo source unknown.)

For this reason, I was personally disappointed when I heard that World Taekwondo has moved to ban Russian athletes from international competitions, and I heard similar calls from the ITF Taekwon-Do community to ban Russian Taekwon-Do athletes from participating at international ITF Taekwon-Do events because of the Russian Federation’s invasion of Ukraine. My disappointment is not because I support Russia’s action—I do not support Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. However, rather than use Taekwon-Do to drive people further apart, I think Taekwon-Do should be used to bring ‘opponents’ together. “What we need to see is Ukrainian and Russian Taekwon-Do practitioners standing side by side and competing alongside each other as part of one global Taekwon-Do family. This is how, I believe, [martial arts] organizations should affect positive change towards peace. [Martial arts] organizations should create opportunities for Ukrainian and Russian [martial art] practitioners to shake hands with each other in friendship, to bow to each other in respect, and maybe even to hug each other in [martial arts] fraternity. Getting Russians and Ukrainians (and the rest of the world) to see each other’s common humanity should be the goal. Sharing photos of such moments of friendship and mutual respect between supposed enemies should be the publicity [martial arts] organizations ought to strive for—not virtue signalling through calls of bans, othering, and separation” (Lewis, 2022).

 

There are also other ways—more personal or ‘intrapersonal’ ways—that the martial arts may contribute to peace, by forging less violent, more peaceful people. This is effectively summarized by Janet O’Shea, in her book Risk, Failure, Play: What Dance Reveals About Martial Arts Training:

“A relationship between vulnerability and accountability explains the central paradox of martial arts training: that knowing how to fight can make you less likely to fight. Part of this paradox lies in confidence: those who know how to fight are less likely to be targeted, and thus are less likely to need their fight skills. Those who fight recreationally or competitively don’t need to put themselves into violent situations to test their knowledge; they have ample opportunity to experiment in consensual circumstances. In addition, however, fight training forms a powerful reminder of vulnerability. Fight sports teach us that anyone can lose a fight and anyone can win one, they show us that strikes hurt regardless of who they come from; and they signal that fundamental limitations unite us more than differences of shape, size, gender, and age separate us.” (Jane O’Shea, 2019:71.)

There is a curious phenomenon we notice with martial artists; they seem to be more affectionate to each other after a fight. This is strange because one would expect opponents to be more antagonistic, yet the opposite seems to be the case. Usually, after the fight, the behaviours of the opponents are those of friends rather than enemies. Think how often you have seen fighters—such as boxers, wrestlers, and MMA-fighters—hug each other after a fight. In an article recently published by UNESCO-ICM, Caio Amaral Gabriel explores the science behind this phenomenon. He points to a study by Rassovsky et al. from 2019 that shows that sparring increases oxytocin, the hormone associated with social bonding and cooperative behaviour. While more research is needed to determine how we can use this phenomenon for creating more peace-loving people, it does hint at something observed in several Korean studies that training in Taekwondo tend to reduce aggression and violence in individuals (Song, 1999; Han & Son, 2003; Yang, 2003; Lee 2009). There is also lots of anecdotal evidence that people who take up martial arts become calmer and more self-controlled.

A possible explanation for martial arts’ ability to cause people to become less aggressive and more self-controlled is the way in which it nurtures resilience. Good studies show that sport, and especially traditional martial arts, develops resilience. “Resilience […] refers to an individual’s capacity for adapting to changes and stressful events in a healthy way” (Catalano, et al. 2004). Essentially, resilience is the ability to endure stress. At the most basic level, in martial arts one learns to take a hit, whether it be a punch, kick, or throw—and one learns to do so without becoming emotional. There is a sense in which one becomes somewhat desensitised to the blows—and possibly by extension also to the blows thrown at you by life.

In martial arts training, practitioners are constantly confronted with hindrances: confronted with their own limitations which they must push pass or accept and confronted with opponents. Martial artists learn to reinterpret such confrontations not as unsurmountable obstacles or as dangerous enemies. In martial arts training your present limitations are opportunities for growth and your opponent is not an enemy but a training partner, and even failure has the potential to become a teacher.

Furthermore, in the martial arts gym we learn responsibility and self-control. As Janet O’Shea explains:
“When we spar, we expose ourselves to harm at the hands of our sparring partners. We are continually reminded that what could (theoretically) happen isn’t, in a respectful gym, happening: my training partner could break my arm when he gets me in an arm bar; instead he releases his grip. I could knock her out when I land a punch but instead I control its impact” (O’Shea, 2019:99).

As such, under the guidance of a good instructor and with the right mindset, martial art practise may be a microcosm in which to learn how to negotiate conflict, and hopefully thereby foster more peaceful people.

In the United Nations Art Collection stands a sculpture titled “Let Us Beat Swords into Plowshares.” The sculpture was inspired by a phrase from the Book of Isaiah, in which the prophet had a vision of the future in which he saw people “beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks”; a future of peace between nations when people will not learn war anymore (Isaiah 2:4). 

I started this talk by saying that I don’t want us to romanticise the martial arts, for ultimately martial arts are the means of war. But, maybe, just maybe we can turn our swords into ploughshares and our spears into pruning hooks and repurpose the martial arts to be means of peace. 

 

References:

Catalano, R. F., Berglund, M. L., Ryan, J. A., Lonczak, H. S., & Hawkins, J. D. (2004). “Positive youth development in the United States: Research findings on evaluations of positive youth development programs.” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 591, 98–124.
Gabriel, C. A. (2022). “[Voices of Youth] Fighting for Peace: Grappling and Striking as Potential to Peacebuilding”. UNESCO-ICM.
Han G.G., Sohn S.D. (2003). “Comparison analysis of aggression and attack and sacrifice factors according to Taekwondo training.” Korean Journal of Physical Education, vol. 20, no. 2, pp. 905–922 [in Korean.]
Johnson, A. J. & Lewis, S. (2020). “From Individual Heroes to National Performers: The Shift in Taekwondo’s Peace Promotion Activities.” Physical Activity Review, vol. 8(2), pp. 64-71.
Lee K.H. (2009). “Comparative analysis on aggression according to the degree of Taekwondo training for children.” Korean Journal of Physical Education, vol. 18, no. 2, pp. 833–842 [in Korean].
Lewis, S. (1996). “Promoting Peace, Practising War: Mohism’s Resolution of the Paradoxical Ethics of War and Self-Defence in East Asian Martial Arts” [unpublished doctoral thesis], Yongin, Korea, Kyunghee University.
Lewis, S. (2022). “Taekwon-Do vis-à-vis the Russian Invasion of Ukraine.” Soo Shim Kwan-blog. https://sooshimkwan.blogspot.com/2022/03/taekwon-do-vis-vis-russian-invasion-of.html
Lewis, S. & Johnson, A. J. (TBD). “Dissonance Issues Incurred with the Use of Taekwondo for Promoting Peace.” Ido Movement for Culture: Journal of Martial Arts Anthropology. (Accepted for publication in 2024, vol. 23.)
Nye, Jr., Joseph S. (2019). “Soft Power and the Public Diplomacy Revisited.” The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 14 (April 2019): 1-14.
O’Shea, J. (2019). Risk, Failure, Play: What Dance Reveals About Martial Arts Training. Oxford University Press.
Song C. S. (1999). “The Effects of Taekwondo Exercise on School Violence of Middle School Students”, [unpublished master's thesis], Seoul, Korea, Sogang University Graduate School [in Korean].
Yang K. S. (2003). “Taekwondo Training for Primary School Students, Its Degree and Its Relationship with Aggression” [unpublished master's thesis], Daegu, Korea Keimyung University [in Korean].