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.

"Sine Wave" in Korean

Sine Wave Motion in Korean

By Sanko Lewis, PhD

From relatively early in Taekwon-Do’s evolution, there has been a type of “verticality”—i.e. up-and-down movements. The term “verticality” was coined by Judy Van Zile, an ethnographer studying Korean traditional dance. She uses the term to describe the conspicuous characteristic of bending-and-straightening of the knees (and other parts of the body) in Korean traditional dance. Such bending-and-straightening of the knees also became a feature of Taekwon-Do, which differs from Japanese Karate in which Taekwon-Do has its roots. Karate prefers little or no “verticality” during stepping. Prototypical Taekwon-Do (i.e., the “Taekwon-Do” of the late 1940s and 1950s) did not have “verticality” as it was basically still Karate, and participants moved according to Japanese body culture. However, “verticality,” which is innate to traditional Korean body culture, slowly seeped into Taekwon-Do movements. By the 1960s, “verticality” was already implied in the “knee-spring” notion. (This focus on the bending or 'spring'-action of the knee is an iconic feature of traditional Korean body culture.)

Initially ITF Taekwon-Do stepping was done in an up-down motion. Around 1981-1983, under the guidance of General Choi Hong-Hi, this up-down execution was amended to a down-up-down execution (or relax-rise-fall, as I prefer to describe it), which became known as the “sine wave motion.” In some of his writings, Stuart Anslow identifies a seminar in 1983 as the year the term “sine wave” became used to describe this down-up-down kinetic expression. This concurs with the first edition of the Korean version of the ITF Encyclopedia in which the English term for this motion is provided as “싸인 웨이브,” which is the transliteration of the English term “sine wave.”

The common assumption is that General Choi appropriated the term “sine wave” to infuse a scientific notion to this type of movement. This is an assumption I held too for quite some time, but it has always made me rather uncomfortable because it is not scientifically sound. The contemporary down-up-down manifestation mimics the shape of a cosine wave, not a sine wave that has an up-down-up shape, if we start at 0 (i.e., X = 0).  

I began to wonder what term General Choi used in Korean, so I looked up what term is used in my Korean versions of the ITF Encyclopedia. There are two synonyms in Korean for “sine wave”: jeonghyeon-pa 정현파 and sain-pa 사인파 (the latter is simply an Anglicanism of sine-wave). Unexpectedly, neither of these words are used in the Korean versions of the ITF Encyclopedia. The Korean term has actually no relation to this scientific concept. Instead, the Korean version of the ITF Encyclopedia uses the term hwaldeung-pado 활등파도, which literally translates as “bow-back waveform.”

What does this mean? Literally, bow-back refers to one side of a bow (archery weapon). The English collocation is “back-of-the-bow,” and refers to the outside of the bow, which is the side facing away from the bowstring. Whereas the side that faces the bowstring is called the belly-of-the-bow. When the bow is stringed, and the archer draws the bow, the wooden bow is arched into an obvious curve (the typical bow shape).

In other words, the original Korean term simply refers to the curvature of the wave form, which should resemble a smooth crescent or bow-like shape; this shape is contrasted in the Encyclopaedia with the “saw-tooth wave” (abrupt up-and-down movements rather than naturally curved movements) and the “horizontal wave” (keeping one's head level throughout the movement), which are incorrect ways of moving in ITF Taekwon-Do.

Upon further investigation I was surprised to note that the transliteration of the Korean term in the 1999 version of the English Encyclopedia (and presumably all subsequent editions) is not hwaldeung-pado 활등파도. Instead, it is yulson. Because the English version of the Encyclopedia doesn’t use hangeul (the Korean alphabet), but only transliterations of the Korean words, it required some effort to try and figure out what the word means. “Yulson” can be written in Korean in various ways 율손, 율선, 열손, 열선—each with different possible meanings. Discussions with native Korean speakers seem to all agree on the second variant: 율선, which is Romanized according to South Korea’s current system as “yulseon.” Finding a proper translation for yulson 율선 is not straightforward.

The translation for yulson 율선 律旋 given by the dictionaries I checked is “melody”. This translation was affirmed to me by a Korean Taekwon-Do master (8th Dan) I consulted. This word is hardly used in modern Korean. A more recognizable term for “melody” is garak 가락, which dictionaries provide as a synonym for yulson 율선. If this is indeed the correct translation, my Korean friends suggest that yulson implies the melodious movement of a tune. It is noteworthy that Korean traditional music has a “curved melodic line with typical vibrato known as nonghyeon or nongeum”—I got this explanation from Professor Sheen Dae-Cheol 신대철 of the Academy of Korean Studies, during a lecture on the aesthetic characteristics of Korean traditional music. If this is the correct understanding of yulson 율선, then we may assume that it refers to the “curved melodic line with typical vibrato,” which may be represented by the oscillating shape of a sine wave.

However, with all due respect to my Korean friends, I’m not completely convinced about the “melody”-hypothesis. The reason for my doubt is that suffix “-son” [-선]. The same page in the ITF Encyclopedia that mentions yulson 율선 as translation for sine wave, also lists soopyong-son and topnal-son as translations for “Horizontal Wave” and “Saw Tooth Wave” respectively. (Notice the same “-son” suffix used in these words.) In the Korean versions of the ITF Encyclopedia, the Korean term is not “-son”, but “-pado” 파도. The relevant pages in the Korean version of the encyclopedia (Volume 4, p. 195) and the Korean version of the condensed encyclopedia (p. 322) lists Sine Wave as 활등파도 hwaldeung-pado, Horizontal Wave as 수평파도 soopyong-pado, and Saw Tooth Wave as 톱날파도 topnal-pado. It is clear, therefore, that “-son” -선 has to have the same or similar meaning as “pado” 파도 which literally translates as wave.

Therefore, a more likely translation of -son is based on a different hanja 線 that means “line.” This better matches the accompanying pictures in the Encyclopedia that shows drawings of a sine wave line, a horizontal line, and a saw tooth line.

This brings us back to the meaning of yul 율 in the term yulson 율선. I suggest that it is based on another hanja 率 that means “rate” or “frequency.” For instance, one’s pulse is biyul 비율, literally “blood-rate”. The alternative hanja 律 means “a law, a rule, a statue, a regulation” which doesn’t seem to fit. On the other hand, “rate/frequency” 率 seems sensible, because a sine wave can accurately be described as a line depicting a frequency. This matches with how some (North) Korean masters describe the sinewave motion as “rhythmic motion”.

Consequently, based on the Korean terms hwadeung-pado (back-of-the-bow wave) and yulson (melodic shape or frequency line), the intention was not to invoke scientific notions of “sine” or “cosine” waves in particular. The picture in the Encyclopedia doesn’t provide us with a single truncated sine wave (or cosine wave), but instead shows a continuous wave. The argument whether the movement looks more like a sinewave or a co-sinewave misses the point. General Choi was using a metaphoric descriptor to depict the smooth curvature of the stepping motion. The stepping should be smooth like a (sine)wave or smooth like the back-of-the-bow. The metaphors are clearly intended to suggest smooth “verticality”; which General Choi juxtaposed with a stepping motion that has no vertical movement (“horizontal wave”) on the one hand or a rugged (“saw-tooth”) movement on the other hand.

While the Korean Encyclopaedia uses the term “bow-back waveform” 활등파도, it also includes the English translation as “싸인 웨이브,” which is the transliteration of the English term “sine wave.” It is not clear why General Choi chose the metaphor of a bow in Korean, but the sine wave in English. It might have been that he thought few Western people are familiar enough with the archery weapon; or, maybe he did choose to use the scientific term “sine wave” to add some scientific notion to the technique.

Nevertheless, another question may be asked: why the change from the original up-down to the current down-up-down motion for most standard movements in ITF Taekwon-Do? The common assumption that the term “sine wave” (or “co-sinewave”) explains the three phases (down-up-down) is not supported by the Korean terminology used by General Choi. The Korean terms hwadeung-pado and yulson, whether understood literally or metaphorically, do not suggest any number of phases (ups-and-downs) in the motion.

There are some possibilities: 

Several people believe it was a political move by General Choi to discredit masters that were not loyal to him and had left the ITF. By introducing this change the General could claim that they are not teaching the founder’s “authentic” Taekwon-Do. A proponent of this view includes Mr. Alex Gillis, the author of the historical exposé A Killing Art: The Untold History of Tae Kwon Do.

Another possibility proposed by myself (a Korean body culture researcher) and Dr He-Young Kimm (Korean martial arts historian and author of Taekwondo History) is that the General introduced a three-beat rhythm as part of his continuous effort to make Taekwon-Do a truly Korean art. Moving according to a three-beat rhythm can be seen in Taekkyeon (a Korean folk martial art) as well as traditional Korean dance, and is the basic rhythm used in Korean traditional music. The change to a three-beat rhythm is a departure from the Japanese two-beat rhythm found in Karate. The three-beat rhythm in ITF Taekwon-Do is achieved by an initial conscious relaxation, followed by an up-down (or rise-fall) movement when executing many techniques. This initial relaxation was, as far as I am concerned, an ingenious contribution to ITF Taekwon-Do’s makeup. It has completely changed the way Taekwon-Do is performed—moving it away from Taekwon-Do’s Karate roots towards a more naturalistic Korean way of moving (emphasizing relaxation over tension). Of course, my and Dr. Kimm’s cultural hypothesis doesn’t exclude Mr. Gillis’ political hypothesis.

In short, the term used in the Korean versions of the ITF Taekwon-Do Encyclopaedia to describe the stepping motion is not “sine wave”—but rather “back-of-the-bow waveform”; in other words, a wavelike movement like the smooth curved shape of a bow. It should obviously be understood as a visual metaphor, and not as some inclusion of a trigonometrical function to increase power. 

"Martial Arts" in Korean

On a Facebook group that I belong, the following questions were recently posted:

1. When did the term "Art" get applied to martial studies? 

2. Do Koreans call TKD an "Art"?

The term “art” in “martial art” doesn’t mean “aesthetics,” as it is often suggested. The word comes from the old French “ars,” which means craftsmanship and was adopted into English to mean skill, particularly of something that needs to be practiced, hence the related term “artisan.” Thus, martial arts simply mean ‘war skills’ (“martial” from Mars, god of war; “arts” from ‘ars’ [old French], meaning craftsmanship, skill).

(As a side note, Dr John Johnson and Dr Peter Ha wrote a paper in which they argue that the English term “martial art” should be understood as a system for self-cultivation. They also propose that the terms “combat system” and “combat sport” be used for other types of martial arts that do not have the self-cultivation goal, but rather combative or sportive goals, respectively. I don’t agree with how they define the term “martial art” based on the etymology of “art” that means skill, as I explained above, but I agree with their assessment that there are different categories of martial arts and that using more precise language is probably better.)

In Korean there are three terms that is usually translated into English as martial arts: “musul 무술”, “muye 무예”, and “mudo 무도”. The base term “mu 무” (from the hanja: 武) translates to roughly “martial” (“martiality”). The suffixes “-sul 술”, “-ye 예”, and “-do 도” translate as “skill”, “art”, and “way” respectively. Since “art” in the English term “martial art” means “skill,” the closest Korean equivalent is “musul”. Interestingly, the “art” in “muye” actually does have a stronger aesthetic connotation in Korean; while “martial art” in English is actually more about a practiced skill, the Korean term “muye” is more about a creative skill.

The preferred term in Chinese for martial arts is “wushu” 武術, which is the same as “musul” in Korean and “bujitsu” in Japanese; i.e. martial skill. In Japanese, the term “budo” has become preferred for their (modern training of) martial arts and corresponds with the Korean “mudo”; i.e. martial way 武道.

Which is the Korean preference? Korean traditionalists typically use the term “muye 무예” (hanja: 武藝 ) in their writing. This point was brought up specifically by the professors at Kyunghee University (Korea) where I did my PhD. The ancient Korean martial art texts have “muye 무예” in their titles: Muyejebo (1598), Muyejebobeonyeoksokjip (1610), Muyesinbo (1759), Muyedobotongji (1790). A modern example is Taekkyeon practitioners who refer to their style as “our [Korean] martial art” (uri-ui muye 우리의 무예) in their writings. Even General Choi, when he described Taekwon-Do as the “Korean art of self-defense” literally called it “hoshin yesul 호신예술” (i.e. the art [creative act] of self-defense).

There are two things that need to be pointed out:

First, although the term “muye” is typically used to refer to traditional martial arts in Korean, that doesn’t mean that there is a very strong emphasis on creative expression. Having lived in Korea for over a decade and having trained in several Korean martial arts (ITF TKD, Hapkido, Taekkyeon, and other cross-training), hardly any Korean instructors I’ve trained under stressed creativity (creative self-expression) as a primary part of their discipline. That's one reason why I disagree with the notion that the ITF patterns is a dance where the practitioner can creatively express themselves. (I have not trained much with Kukki/WT instructors, so I don’t know if creative self-expression is something that is emphasized in Kukki/WT Taekwondo.)

Second, the terms “musul,” “muye,” and “mudo” are sometimes used to suggest a practitioner’s growth on the martial arts journey, starting with a basic acquisition of techniques (“musul”), to a creative improvisation of techniques (“muye”), to a spiritual discipline where lessons learned in the dojang is intuited to life wisdom (“mudo”) beyond fighting. I’ve written about this here on my blog, and Dr Johnson has also written academically about it.

In short, to answer the original question:

The English term “martial art” is better understood as “war skills”.

Koreans have three terms for martial arts: “musul,” “muye”, and “mudo.” All three terms can be used and often are used interchangeably by Korean speakers. Although lay people often use “musul,” “muye”, and “mudo” as synonymous, the term “muye” is typically employed by Koreans to refer to traditional Korean martial arts, differentiating it from the Chinese “wushu” (“musul”) and the Japanese “budo” (“mudo”). The terms are also sometimes applied to indicate a person’s progression along the martial arts journey, with “musul” referring to the foundation level or technical training and “mudo” implying ascetic self-development. Koreans who practice martial arts as a way of life refer to themselves as “mudo-in 무도인” (literally: martial-way-person).

Finally, as for “Taekwon-Do,” since the term includes the “-do” suffix, we can assume that the pioneers hoped that it would be a system of self-development and not simply a “musul” or “muye.”

The Teleology of Sparring in ITF Taekwon-Do

The following video recording is of my presentation at Stanford University, at the 2019 International Academic Conference for Taekwondo. The video quality is a bit low as I captured it with my mobile phone from the video stream that was made during the conference. When I find a better quality recording, I will post it later. Below is also the abstract for my presentation.

Abstract: The Teleology of Free Sparring in ITF Style Taekwondo

The Korean term for sparring in ITF style taekwondo is matseogi which denotes opposing or standing up against an adversary. This is different from the term gyeorugi (i.e. from gyeoruda, “to compete”) that is used in WT / Kukki taekwondo or the older term daeryeon (“fighting”) that was used in the early development of taekwondo. Matseogi in ITF style taekwondo ought to be understood teleologically as a “Korean martial art of self-defense.” Towards that goal, the ITF pedagogy guides the practitioner through various types of matseogi (from “pre-arranged” to “unrestricted”), which is supposed to sequentially prepare the practitioner for the telos (i.e. ultimate goal) of real-life self-defense. It is very difficult to prepare for a real-life self-defense situation because reality is often chaotic, with many unpredictable variables. Consequently, the ITF pedagogy offers yaksok matseogi (“pre-arranged sparring”) with much reduces variables, so that the practitioner can focus on and hone appropriate skills for specific variables. Progressively more variables are introduced until the practitioner finally practices jayu matseogi (i.e. “free sparring” or “unrestricted sparring”), which is supposed to allow for the inclusion of as many variables as possible to mimic the chaos of a real-life self-defense encounter. This type of training is often referred to as “reality based” training. However, the term jayu matseogi (“free sparring”) has been appropriated for competition sparring at ITF tournaments. Because competition sparring is bound by numerous sparring rules, this type of sparring still has too many reduced variables to reflect the very high variable situation of a real self-defense encounter. Since for many ITF schools competition sparring is considered jayu matseogi, their pedagogic telos is never achieved, as there is no ultimate “reality based” training that mimics the unpredictability of a real self-defense encounter. It is my proposal that ITF competition sparring should be renamed because the current misapplied use of the term jayu matseogi effectively erases the true definition and purpose of jayu matseogi in the ITF pedagogy. Instead of jayu matseogi the term gyeorugi is an appropriate designation for competition sparring. Furthermore, actual “reality based” jayu matseogi needs to be reintroduced in schools where it is not trained, in order for ITF style taekwondo to achieve its pedagogic telos as a “Korean martial art of self-defense.”

Do you matseogi, gyeorugi, or daeryeon?

[Note, June 2026: there are some errors in this essay which I did not have the full facts for at the time of its writing. For a more up-to-date version, please refer to my post: Forging, Competing, Confronting: The Evolution of Taekwondo Through Its Sparring Terms.]

It was Dr George Vitale (ITF VIII Dan) who first pointed it out to me that the Korean term General Choi Hong-Hi, the principle founder of original Taekwon-Do, designated for sparring is different from the general term used for sparring in most other forms of Korean martial arts—including in Kukki (WTF) style of Taekwondo. In General Choi’s ITF Taekwon-Do we use the term matseogi 맞서기, whereas in most other forms of Taekwon-Do the term gyeorugi 겨루기 is used.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. I just assumed it was one of those general differences in terminology that are typical across styles. It was only after considering the systematic progress of “sparring” in ITF Taekwon-Do that I realized that the use of the term matseogi rather than gyeorugi was very deliberate. Of course, I should have known better. The more I study General Choi’s use of (Korean) terms, the more I realize how pedantic he was about his choice of terminology. Unfortunately, much of this is lost in translation, and often official translations into English are far from ideal. But I digress. In this essay, I want to explore the meanings of gyeorugi and matseogi, and point out why the distinction is important. I will also address another related term, daeryeon.

The term gyeorugi is based on the verb gyeoruda 겨루다 which means “to compete, vie for, or content with”. One could also use the term in a political sense, for example when one politician opposes another during an election; i.e. the politicians are contending for the same political office. 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. Hence, the English translation of gyeorugi as “sparring” is acceptable, although “competing” is likely the closest translation of gyeorugi. 

On the other hand, the term matseogi does not denote a sport or competitive meaning, although it does suggest a confrontation. The term matseogi as a whole has a particular meaning that we will get to soon, but I’d like to first break the word into parts: 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. This example of facing to greet someone is, in fact, one of the ways the word is generally understood. (Not to be confused with the homonyms that mean “correct” and “agreement”.) 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. This interpretation seems very appropriate when we consider the pre-arranged sparring (yagsok matseogi 약속 맞서기) exercises, like three-step sparring (sambo matseogi 삼보맞서기) and two-step sparring (ilbo matseogi 이보맞서기).

However, the term matseogi is generally understood in its entirety, as an inflection of the verb matseoda 맞서다, meaning “to oppose, to confront, to stand up to, or stand against, to face an enemy, or resist a force.” As pointed out earlier, unlike gyeorugi which has a competition association, matseogi implies a completely different type of conflict. Instead of a sport connotation, matseogi has a defensive connotation. The implied meaning is not competitive, but combative. Orthodox ITF Taekwon-Do pedagogy (and by this I mean what is in the ITF Encyclopaedia) has basically no training geared towards competition and tournament sparring. The implication, at least for ITF Taekwon-Do, is that all the so-called “sparring” drills, from three-step sparring to free sparring and self-defence exercises, have as their end goal not improving one’s tournament sparring ability, but rather to improve your combative, i.e. self-defence, skill.

It might actually be a good idea for ITF practitioners that participate in tournament sparring to follow Kukki Taekwondo's lead and refer to this activity as gyeorugi too, so not to confuse it with free sparring (jayu matseogi 자유 맞서기) which is a form of sparring without rules or limits on attacking tools or targets; in other words, a reality based fighting exercise, which is part of ITF's systematic pedagogy. As I explained in my essay on the purpose and value of pre-arranged sparring, each type of matseogi is part of “a continuum of training that becomes progressively less abstract and approaches the real combative encounter in a systematic way relative to the practitioner’s skill level,” for the purpose of combat (i.e. self-defence).

Fellow Taekwon-Do blogger Ørjan Nilsen brought my attention to a third term, daeryeon 대련, that was used by the early Kwan, such as Moo Duk Kwan, including General Choi's O Do Kwan. General Choi's early Taekwon-Do writings such as the 1966 Taekwon-Do Manual ("태권도 지침") and the 1972 Taekwon-Do Handbook ("태권도 교서") use the term daeryeon for sparring. It is still the term used for sparring in Tang Soo Do to this day. Daeryeon is actually a very appropriate term to use as it translates into English as “sparring” or “fighting,” without the competitive connotation that gyeorugi has. Why then was it not adopted by General Choi and the Kukki Taekwondoists? My hypothesis is because daeryeon is not a pure Korean word, but based on hanja (Chinese characters), 對鍊. Many people are aware that Taekwon-Do had a strong Karate foundation, hence many early terminology were based on Karate terms. The first Taekwon-Do masters, who at that time still basically practiced Koreanized Karate, often used the same terminology based on hanja, but simply pronounced them in Korean. We still see remnants of that in some Korean martial arts; for instance, the term for “knife-hand” in Tang Soo Do and Hapkido is sudo  수도, based on the hanja 手刀. The Japanese equivalent shuto (notice the similarity with the Korean pronunciation), used in Karate, is based on the same hanja. In Taekwon-Do (both ITF and Kukki) the term sonnal 손칼, which is a purely Korean collocation, is used instead. If I'm not mistaken, General Choi was the first to move away from using Shino-Korean (i.e. Korean words based on hanja) to using pure Korean terminology. His motive was very much a patriotic one. He wanted to evolve Taekwon-Do into a truly Korean martial art and a primary way for doing so was to use pure Korean terminology. There was also a practical purpose to this. As Taekwon-Do under General Choi was developed within a military context, he abandoned the more poetic descriptions that were often part of the Chinese descriptions for martial arts techniques. Commanding soldiers requires direct, precise language, rather than the sometimes ambiguous terms still found in some Chinese martial arts.

As a side note, my PhD promotor suggested I look into the possibility that General Choi's involvement with northern Korea as sponsors for his Taekwon-Do Encyclopedia need also be taken into account, as they tend to be language purists and also refrain from using hanja. However, Taekwon-Do historian Dr George Vitale assured me that "the terms were already in use well before [Gen. Choi] ever went to NK in 1980". Furthermore, although the first edition of the Encyclopaedia was indeed printer there, General Choi had autonomy over the content, as the financial support for the printing came from the publisher of the Tae Kwon Do Times magazine, and not from the north, as I had thought.

In short, daelyeon is a good translation for sparring, but it is a more traditional word, based on Chinese characters. As Taekwon-Do evolved, mostly pure Korean terminology were adopted. The pure Korean words gyeorugi and matseogi are now more commonly used. In Kukki Taekwon-Do the term gyeorugi with its competitive connotation is primarily used, and is a good translation for tournament sparring. This was a sensible choice for the Kukki branch of Taekwondo which already evolved towards sportive emphasis from as early as the 1960s. On the other hand, the term matseogi that is used in ITF Taekwon-Do does not denote competition but rather alludes to combat as in a self-defence situation. General Choi's military background may have been part of the motivation in adopting this term. Interestingly, daelyeon seems to be the most neutral term when neither sport or self-defence is implied, but simply referring to fighting or sparring in general.