Forging, Competing, Confronting: The Evolution of Taekwondo Through Its Sparring Terms

This article (or versions of it) was previously printed also in Hoonlyun Magazine (2025) and in Totally Tae Kwon Do Magazine (February 2026, Issue 204). Several of the ideas in this article has been discussed on this blog through the years, which readers might recognise, but reassembled here in a more coherent argument. 

Forging, Competing, Confronting: The Evolution of Taekwondo Through Its Sparring Terms

By Dr. Sanko Lewis

In the foundational years of Taekwon-Do, the term daeryeon 대련 was used for sparring. As Taekwon-Do evolved, other terms were chosen in Kukki / WT Taekwondo and ITF Taekwon-Do respectively. One reason for these name changes was the continued decolonization project of the time. In Taekwondo, many terms that had Japanese or Chinese origins were replaced with native Korean words. Thus, the Sjino-Korea word daeryeon made way for the native Korean word gyeorugi 겨루기 in the Kukki Taekwondo circles, while the chosen word for sparring in ITF Taekwon-Do became matseogi 맞서기. 

Daeryeon, Gyeorugi, and Matseogi 

Gyeorugi is a conjugation of the verb gyeoruda 겨루다, a term from Middle Korean (13th century), which means to compete, or content with, or to pit one’s skill against. This semantic nuance better describe the change that was occurring within Kukki Taekwondo. The inflection gyeorugi, in the context of martial arts, basically means to dual, or to fight as in a competition. There is an obvious sport or competitive connotation to the term. Although, the English translation of gyeorugi as “sparring” is acceptable, “competing” or “competition sparring” are better translations. On 25-27 May 1973, the Kukkiwon hosted the first Taekwondo World Championships where after the World Taekwondo Federation (now simply known as World Taekwondo) was founded. World Taekwondo and their world championships have one primary focus: competition sparring, i.e. gyeorugi. It was around this time (early 1970s) that the semantic switch from daeryeon to gyeorugi occurred. This change in terminology reveals the new teleological focus within WT style Taekwondo away from the earlier telos. 

The previous term, daeryeon, based on the Chinese characters 對鍊, has a very different connotation. The first character 對 connotes the proper or correct way to approach something, while the second character 鍊 means to smelt, forge, or refine something; as a compound word, these characters translate as fighting, duelling, or sparring in Korean. But connotatively it is not simply fighting—not competition sparring as implied by gyeorugi. Instead, it is a type of activity in which you forge yourself. In other words, to toughen or condition yourself through combat. Incidentally, daeryeon is related to another common word found in Taekwon-Do, namely danryeon 단련 (鍛鍊) (pronounced: “dallyon”), which we usually translate roughly as “conditioning”, but really means something like hardening (forging, tempering, refining) through disciplined activity. For instance, doing knuckle pushups to condition your fists is a form of danryeon. Hence—in a deeper sense—daeryeon can be understood as a means of improving oneself through the act of sparring. Before Kukki/Taekwondo became a sport, it was primarily conceived as a martial art for self-development (an idea inherited from Japanese Karate-Do), so the term daeryeon (i.e., an activity of “forging”) was semantically fitting. However, this changed with the shift towards combat sport (i.e., competition). 

ITF Taekwon-Do would also change their term for sparring. In the early 1970s, ITF Taekwon-Do material still used daeryeon 대련, but in 1975 in the second edition of General Choi Hong Hi’s “Taekwon-Do Handbook” (“태권도 교서”) daeryeon was replaced with matseogi 맞서기. Unlike gyeorugi that denotes competition, matseogi has a more curious meaning, which surprisingly doesn’t directly translate as sparring. General Choi could easily have chosen more appropriate “sparring” synonyms such as jeontu 전투 (“combat”) or gyeoltu 결투(“duelling”), but instead he opted for matseogi. The word choice was obviously deliberate. There are two ways to interpret the meaning of matseogi. The first way is not exactly correct, but it is useful, as we will see. In this first interpretation, we can understand the meaning of matseogi by considering it as a compound word: “mat” 맞- and “seogi” 서기. The former, based on the verb matda 맞다 means to face something, as when you turn your body towards someone to greet them. While seogi, based on the verb seoda 서다, literally means to stand up. If we were to read “mat-seogi” in this way, within the context of Taekwon-Do, it simply means to take in a position facing your training partner during practice. This interpretation seems very appropriate when we consider the pre-arranged sparring exercises known as yagsok matseogi 약속 맞서기 where attack and defence techniques are practised with and against training partners. 

The second way to interpret matseogi is how it is usually understood—as an inflection of the verb matseoda 맞서다, which means “to oppose, to confront, to stand up to, or stand against, to face an enemy, or resist a force.” A Korean synonym is daeriphada” 대립하다, meaning to stand your ground. The philosophical implications ought to be obvious. Practicing matseogi is more than sparring drills. It’s a symbolic action of facing one’s fears, of not cowering from one’s problems but confronting them, not shying from difficulties but learning how to overcome them, of the willingness to face an enemy. At first what we face are “simple” problems, like when we do three-step sparring. However, with time, as our skill level increases, so does the complexity, the resistance, the risk. But it is this very possibility of risk, of pain, and our willingness to face it that builds resilience and courage. And here is the crux: matseogi—the willingness to face something difficult and learn to overcome it—is one of the ways in which we grow in courage to be able to literally face and confront (i.e., matseogi) injustice. This is part of ITF Taekwon-Do’s moral oath: to fight for “freedom and justice” so that we can “build a more peaceful world.” ITF’s matseogi, then, is somewhat similar to daeryeon, as it implies facing something or someone, but there is a further moral connotation of standing up for (a victim), standing up against (a bully), or confronting (an injustice). 

The Problem with ITF Sparring 

As the preceding semantic exposition makes clear, the purpose of sparring in ITF Taekwon-Do was to prepare the practitioner of ITF Taekwon-Do as the “Korean art of self-defence,” as its founder defined it, for the purpose of being “champions of freedom and justice” so to “build a more peaceful word”—these are part of the Taekwon-Do Oath that all ITF practitioners frequently recite. All sparring exercises, from three-step sparring (sambo matseogi 삼보 맞서기), two-step sparring (ibo matseogi 이보 맞서기), one-step sparring (ilbo matseogi 일보 맞서기), semi-free sparring (ban jayu matsogi 반 자유 맞서기), and free sparring (jayu matsogi 자유 맞서기) were supposed to progressively prepare the practitioner for self-defence by taking them from very simple combative mimicry to “unrestricted” or “free” sparring that is “essentially open combat” where there is “no prearranged mode between players, and both participants are completely free to attack and defend with all available means and methods”. (ITF Taekwon-Do Encyclopedia, Vol. 5, p. 244). 

The idea is sensible: beginners practice easy, light exercises to get them used to certain principles of combat such as understanding the centre-line, learning basic guarding and blocking manoeuvres, and simple attacks and counter-attacks; and then as they progress the combative scenario becomes more complex and slowly more realistic, until they reach a level of competence to defend against a resisting opponent, in what modern combat systems call “reality based” training. 

However, since there was no protective gear at the time, free sparring required much more limitations to prevent serious injury. For this reason, free sparring was trained as “no-contact” or “light contact”. (Consider for instance doing a finger-poke to the eye: during sparring practice you wouldn’t actually put your finger in your training partners eye, so in this case “no-contact” applies. Similarly, consider a kick to the scrotum: again, a “light-contact” tap would be enough.) 

Unfortunately, most ITF schools have lost this original self-defence preparation purpose. The reason? The term jayu matseogi (“free sparring”) became appropriated for competition sparring at ITF competitions. General Choi initially did not allow hard-contact sparring as he believed that full-contact practice of Taekwon-Do techniques would be too dangerous. This was a carryover from Karate which believed that even a single Karate blow is likely to be lethal. Therefore, pre-arranged sparring exercises that prohibited contact were devised. The Father of Modern Karate, “Funakoshi only reluctantly introduced free, non-contact sparring” (Moenig, U. 2016. Taekwondo: From Martial Art to Martial Sport). Korean Karate and later Taekwon-Do training followed the same restrictions. 

Of course, in both Kukki/WT Taekwondo and in ITF Taekwon-Do the no-contact constraint was in time abandoned for free sparring that did allow contact. It is not exactly certain when General Choi changed his mind on the matter of sparring. Nevertheless, the ITF hosted its first ITF Taekwon-Do World Championships, held in Montreal, Canada, in 1974, marking the organisation’s full embrace of competitive sparring. This was indeed contact sparring and not simply no-contact. By the late 1970s, Jhoon Rhee’s innovation of sparring gear was also adopted by General Choi and the ITF. This addition established a framework for safe, continuous sparring, which became standardized as ITF competition sparring. The ITF changed its stance from “no-contact” competition sparring to “semi-contact” competition sparring. It is important to note that, “semi-contact” doesn’t just mean “light contact”, but rather actual-but-controlled contact with proper technique. This is differentiated from “full contact,” which in ITF means bad techniques involving wild, uncontrolled swings and loss of self-control resulting in “excessive force”. To ensure conformity, wild flurries of kicks and strikes are not awarded points, and “excessive force” is penalized. 

The problem is that the ITF never adopted a specific term for competition sparring and notably avoided the term gyeorugi despite its appropriateness. The reason for this was probably to ensure differentiation from the World Taekwondo (WT) which held its first World Championships in 1973, one year earlier than the ITF’s first World Championships. Instead of gyeorugi, the existing term jayu matseogi came to be used for competition sparring as well. This terminological overlap had significant consequences. 

As jayu matseogi became synonymous with competition sparring, its original meaning—unrestricted sparring for self-defence practise—gradually faded. The traditional learning progression, which involved increasingly complex variations of matseogi leading to authentic free sparring, largely disappeared. While most ITF schools continue to teach self-defence, it is typically limited to pre-arranged technical sequences, such as wrist-grab releases, rather than reality-based sparring. Only a few isolated schools and national organizations maintain the practice of both competition sparring and true free sparring, i.e. real jayu matseogi, aimed at comprehensive self-defence training. 

The resolution to this terminological confusion is straightforward: ITF organizations should implement a clear distinction between their two forms of free sparring practice. The term jayu matseogi should be restored to its original meaning of free sparring for self-defence training, while competition sparring should be designated as gyeorugi—its proper Korean term, as used in WT. Adopting gyeorugi for competition sparring need not be seen as copying WT, but rather as using the correct Korean term for this specific activity. This simple terminological distinction would help schools maintain both the competitive aspect enjoyed at tournaments and the practical self-defence training, providing students with a more complete martial arts education. 

The Problem with WT Sparring 

Meanwhile, the transition of Kukki Taekwondo to sport-focused gyeorugi unexpectedly enhanced its overall effectiveness and led to significant technical advances. The emphasis on full-contact competition fostered the development of exceptionally fast and powerful kicks, complemented by sophisticated defensive footwork. Although self-defence was no longer an explicit focus, the refined techniques proved remarkably effective. The combination of agile footwork for maintaining distance, and powerful, precise kicks provided practitioners with practical advantages against larger, untrained opponents. 

Unfortunately, the pursuit of Olympic legitimacy ironically undermined Kukki Taekwondo’s combat effectiveness due to various changes. The systemic corruption of the Korean judges necessitated WT to come up with an unbiased scoring system. The solution of the tech-savvy Koreans was an electronic scoring system by means of an electronic body protector, known as the ‘Protector Scoring System’ (PSS), but this completely changed how the game is played. Previously, a point was scored based on its ability to deliver a “shocking force”. The PSS doesn’t require the same hard contact force to electronically score, while even the lightest touch to the head (with any part of the foot) results in points awarded. Punching to the face is not allowed. The original “full contact” kicks that were the hallmark of Kukki Taekwondo became watered down and now some of them can hardly be recognised as kicks at all. Moreover, the no-punching to the head rule has resulted in practitioners utterly neglecting guards and or blocks for the head. 

Additionally, the inclusion of “video replay” broke the continuous flow of matches because now coaches can interrupt the match whenever they think a possible foul occurred or to challenge points by judges or decisions by referees and everyone have to wait for the “video replay”. As a result, the fight is frequently paused, the video is checked, the dispute is decided upon, before the match is resumed. Other things like clinching and falling—which are not considered fouls as in the case of ITF Taekwon-Do—also slowed down the flow of the match. Whenever the athletes clinch or if one of them falls, the centre referee must intervene to get the match going again. 

The result is a marked shift from the original continuous, full-contact system that had organically developed powerful techniques and effective footwork, to a more tentative, point-based game emphasizing light contact and tactical interruptions. This transformation essentially reversed the practical combat benefits that had emerged from Kukki Taekwondo’s initial sport focus. 

And along the way, the idea of Taekwondo as a system for personal self-protection was practically ignored by the sport focussed major authorities. In 2023, the Kukkiwon published their latest Taekwondo Textbook, consisting of five volumes. Volume 4 focusses on sparring and includes a section on “self-defense sparring.” While this sounds sensible, it is when one sees the Korean translation that the wheels come off. In Korean, it reads “self-defense gyeorugi”. Understanding self-defence as a form of competition is the wrong conceptual framework. Gyeorugi is the wrong definition, the wrong metaphor for self-defence. Protecting oneself from eminent danger is not a game, not a competition. 

The problem—unfortunately—is one of fragmentation. The Kukkiwon claims custodianship over the philosophical and technical side of Kukki Taekwondo as an art. Conversely, WT oversees the sport. The sides, the “art” and the “sport”, has departed from each other to such a degree that the way to make them seem better integrated is through wordplay. Suggestion that gyeorugi (the domain of the sport) is somehow connected to hoshinsul (the domain of the art). 

Conclusion 

The evolution of sparring terminology in Taekwon-Do reflects deeper philosophical and practical shifts within the art. The transition from daeryeon to gyeorugi in WT circles and to matseogi in ITF demonstrates how language choices can both shape and reveal changing priorities. Both ITF and WT face challenges in maintaining the martial integrity of their sparring practices. ITF’s terminological confusion between competition sparring and self-defence training has diluted its original progressive training methodology. Meanwhile, Kukki/WT’s pursuit of Olympic legitimacy, while initially strengthening its combat effectiveness, has paradoxically led to rules and technologies that diminish practical fighting ability. The Kukkiwon’s attempt to bridge the art-sport divide through linguistic gymnastics only highlights the fundamental disconnect. 

The solution lies not in abandoning competition or tradition, but in clearly delineating and preserving both aspects. By acknowledging these distinct purposes through precise terminology and dedicated training methodologies, Taekwon-Do can honour its heritage as both a martial art and a sport. This clarity would allow practitioners to benefit from both competitive excellence and practical self-defence capability, fulfilling Taekwon-Do’s broader mission of developing the complete martial artist with the strength of character forged through hard training to become “champions of freedom and justice.”

Further reading:

• My first post about about daeryeon, gyurugi, and matsogi was published in 2017. That post had some historical errors which are corrected in this current version. 
• My discussion on ITF's pre-arranged sparring pedagogy (2014) is important to understand why free sparring is the goal in self-defence training, and cannot simply be replaced with competition sparring. 
• A version of this article was also presented at Standford University in 2019.

Taekwondo as a Martial Art of Peace

The following is an excerpt from my PhD dissertation (2016). Since I just copied and pasted it here, it is missing a proper introduction and conclusion, and I didn't bother to go search for and also copy the references that are cited in the body of this text. In other words, as is, it is a "bad" essay. I just thought it is an interesting quick survey of Taekwon-Do's peace promotion activities that some people might find interesting.

Taekwondo is a relatively young martial art. The term “Taekwondo” was only coined in 1955. Nevertheless, from early on there was an ambitious expectation to use Taekwondo as a tool to promote (world) peace as we can see in the writings of some of the original nine Kwans that eventually became Taekwondo.

Park Chul Hee, co-founder of the Kang Duk Won admonished the martial artist to ceaselessly train both “mind and body to build an indomitable spirit” and that one should be “a brave man who dash at the cause of justice, dust off the evil mind and worthless thoughts, enlighten evil doers and show the right path . . . , build a sound character, and make contribution to the world peace and prosperity of civilization” (sic) (Park, “Pasa Gwonbeop” 1957, in Kukkiwon, 1st Class, 85). Choi Hong Hee of the Oh Do Kwan called Taekwondo a means of “moral re-armament” in the first English book on Taekwondo (1965, p. 14). He highlighted that Taekwondo is not to be used to “provoke fights, rather to help the weak” (1965, p. 18). Lee Won Kuk the founder of the Chung Do Kwan, wrote in his “Taekwondo Manual” (1968) that students ought to “love peace, [and] protect justice and humanitarianism” and he emphasized that practitioners “initiate no fight with others,” and stressed a self-defence precept “that prohibits making the first move” (in Kukkiwon, 1st Class, 86). 

Similar sentiments are reflected in the Encyclopedia of Taekwon-Do; for instance, one precept of Taekwondo’s Moral and Ethical Guidelines (Johnson, 2014, p. 180; Choi, 1999, Vol. 1, p. 89) advocates practitioners to “[b]e gentle to the weak and tough to the strong.” Likewise, the Taekwondo Student Oath calls on practitioners to “never misuse Taekwondo,” but instead to “be [champions] of freedom and justice” with the aim to “build a more peaceful world” (Encyclopedia of Taekwon-Do, 1999, Vol. 1). Rhee Ki Ha (2012), known as the “Father of British Taekwon-Do,” goes so far as to describe Taekwondo as “the physical, spiritual and mental practise of human rights and human equality” (p. 12).

Taekwondo also has a history of so-called goodwill tours, to foster positive relations between (Korea and other) countries. The first goodwill tour was of a Taekwondo team from the army of the Republic of Korea to Vietnam and China in 1959 (Kimm, 2013, p. 180,181). Within a few years Vietnam requested Korean instructors to formally teach Taekwondo to certain units of the Vietnam military (Kimm, 2013, p. 194, 195). In 1965 Choi Hong Hi led the “Kukki Taekwon-Do Goodwill Demonstration Team” to Germany, Italy, Egypt, Turkey, Malaysia and Singapore (Kimm, 1998), which was the beginning of Taekwondo’s spread around the world, and of many similar tours to come. In 2007, Korean-American Taekwondo grandmaster Jung Woojin helped to organize a goodwill tour of a North Korean Taekwondo demonstration team to the United States that visited five major American cities (Huus, 2007). A second goodwill tour by the North Korean demonstration team to the United States happened in 2011. Grandmaster Jung described its purpose as “a peaceful cultural exchange . . . to build friendship and encourage peace between the two nations of North Korea and the U.S.” (2011). Similar visits have also occurred between South Korea and North Korea. In 2002 a team from South Korea visited the North and shortly afterward a team from the North visited the South. Then again in 2007 a North Korean team visited the South and performed demonstrations in Seoul and Chuncheon (Kpride, 2015). During the 2015 WTF Taekwondo Championships in Russia, a Taekwondo demonstration team of mostly North Korean athletes shared the stage with South Korea’s WTF demonstration team during the opening ceremony (Baik, 2015). 

In 2008 the WTF initiated the World Taekwondo Peace Corps, with the theme “World Peace through the Great Taekwondo Spirit” and after its initial success, the World Taekwondo Peace Corps Foundation was established in 2009 (WTF, “Taekwondo Peace Corps”). In 2010 WTF president Choue Chungwon showcased the Taekwondo Peace Corps at the UN-IOC Sport for Development and Peace Conference, in Geneva, where the aim of “building a better and more peaceful world” was emphasized. The Taekwondo Peace Corps functions mainly as a Korean volunteer organization that dispatches young Korean Taekwondo athletes and instructors to various parts of the world where they teach and demonstrate Taekwondo and promote Korean culture. The official World Taekwondo Peace Corps-website (2010, “Introduction”) refers to their methodology as “soft power in diplomacy”, referring to the political-scientist Joseph Nye's (2004) concept of persuasion through appeal (“soft power”) as opposed to persuasion through coercion (“hard power”). Because of the Taekwondo Peace Corps initiative, the WTF was nominated for “International Sports Federation of the Year” in 2012 (WTF, 2012). In 2015, during the opening ceremony of the 5th International Symposium for Taekwondo Studies, WTF president Dr Choue emphasised the uniqueness of Taekwondo as a combat sport that support “sports through world peace,” and announced that the United Nations and IOC plans to follow the example of the WTF Taekwondo Peace Corps to establish a United Nations and IOC World Peace Corps (Choue, 2015).

Interview by Yonhap News

I was recently interviewed by Yonhap News, the largest news agency in South Korea, for their series on "Our Africans", which focusses on immigrants from Africa who has made a life for themselves in Korea. As a South African living permanently in Korea and because of my academic work in Taekwon-Do Studies, I somehow appeared on their radar, so they approached me for the interview. I'm happy that my work in Korea seems to be making positive impressions. 

The interview focussed on my martial arts journey, my research, and my work as a literature professor. 

The interview is in Korean, but if you want to view it, here's the link: https://www.yna.co.kr/view/AKR20251117116200898 

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