Betrayed Judo - Confronting the Falsehoods about the Black-and-White Belt

 

I thought that the art of writing factually wrong and intellectually dishonest things about Kōdōkan jūdō, relying on hearsay, tampering with or ignoring the original sources, and placing ideology before love of truth, was our prerogative—and by “our” I mean “Western.” I was very wrong.

I read, thanks to friends who pointed it out to me, a university paper by Mizoguchi Noriko, which can be found here, and which I warmly invite you to read carefully.

I can already hear the comments: “But how can you dare to contest a great champion, someone who has studied, someone with a PhD?”

The answer is very simple: of course I dare, if she writes nonsense. I do not care who it is that speaks, I care about what they say. And if what they say, whether we are speaking of a great master or of the last newcomer, is not correct, it is a duty to point it out. This is because I adhere to a principle that the Neo-Confucian philosopher Wáng Yángmíng summarised in this motto: 知行合一 “the unity of what one knows and what one does.” In other words, your knowledge implies the responsibility to act. Incidentally, the thought of Wáng Yángmíng was popular among the supporters of the Meiji Renewal, and Kanō also knew and appreciated it.

I am astonished that there are not more voices contesting the affirmations of this “study,” which in a serious university, or perhaps in times when university articles had to conform to certain quality standards, would never have been accepted. I am astonished — but only to a point. For professional reasons I often deal with environments that are steeped in post-modernism, and I know from experience that it takes a certain dose of courage even just to manifest dissent with respect to the prevailing conformism, let alone to contest something with data in hand.

Should Kōdōkan jūdō be political? I imagine yes, if we understand it as care of the polis. Should it be an ideological battlefield? No. Absolutely not. Therefore, without mincing words, here is why I think this study is a disgrace. I'll proceed section by section according to the study's structure.

 

TITLE

The author titles her work “The Paradox of the White-Striped Black Belt.” Why it should be a paradox, she never explains.

 

KEYWORDS

The first keyword of the article is “gender.” Before even jūdō, before even “black belt,” which is literally in title of the article. Everyone is free to think what they want, of course, but such a choice is ideologically motivated and makes me immediately understand that I am not dealing with a balanced discussion, but with a text characterised by a deliberate and precise ideological alignment.

 

3. ABSTRACT

This is the part in which the content of the article is summarised. The author begins straight away with recalling a scandal, whose reality and gravity no one disputes, which involved some Japanese athletes in 2015. In this way she situates the discourse in a perspective of “victimisation,” which is the typical modus operandi of those who embrace the author’s ideology. A little later, here is a sentence completely disconnected from the 2015 event, yet illuminating:

“The white-striped Judo black belt symbolizes the disrespect directed at Japanese women Judo athletes. Foreign female Judo players wear ordinary black belts; however, their Japanese counterparts are compelled to wear black belts with a white stripe. Grading regulations are identical for men and women in other Japanese martial arts such as kendo or karate, and women are awarded ordinary black belts just as men.”

Where shall we begin?

• The fact that the black belt with the white stripe symbolises a lack of respect is personal conclusion of the author, not a matter of fact.
• Japanese athletes no longer wear the black belt with the white stripes because the All Nippon Judo Federation discontinued it in 2017. The article is from 2020. Why does the author speak in the present tense, as if the phenomenon were ongoing, about something that, at the time when the article was published, had already been out of use for three years?
• In kendō there are no belts, so women are not “given ordinary black belts just as men,” and kendō examinations are not Kōdōkan jūdō examinations.

Mizoguchi Noriko is a champion of Kōdōkan jūdō, a coach, a researcher with a PhD. Must I really believe that a professional athlete and a researcher does not know these things or is unable to draw a proper distinction between Kōdōkan jūdō and kendō?

 

INTRODUCTION

The introduction of an article that discusses Kōdōkan jūdō and the choices that its founder made in the 1920s opens with the quotation of a well-known radical feminist author who was writing at the end of the 1940s in a political, social and cultural climate competely different from that of Japan, with which it has nothing to do and which it consequently has no means of interpreting.

“One is not born, but rather becomes, woman.” These famous words by Simone de Beauvoir aptly describe the embedded social and cultural gender differentiation prevailing in patriarchal societies in which men are the preferred first sex and women form the less important second sex. Similarly, men were the first sex in Japanese Judo, and women were relegated to second place (Beauvoir, 1949).

It may seem a small detail, but the fact that Mizoguchi Noriko placed the parenthesis with the textual reference at the end of the paragraph, and not at the end of the quotation, makes it seem that Simone de Beauvoir actually spoke of Kōdōkan jūdō, which she never did. Furthermore, a quick glance at the bibliography shows that Mizoguchi Noriko made wide use of texts by French post-modernists, but very little reference to the writings of the founder of Kōdōkan jūdō or of the masters who followed him. For example, absent from the bibliography are the complete works of Kanō Jigorō, The Great History of Japanese Jūdō of 1939, The History of World Jūdō by Maruyama Sanzō, and so on. This is no small handicap, as we shall see later. Let us proceed.

“In fact, women were long prohibited from engaging in Judo. When they were finally accorded the right to play, they were compelled to sport white-striped black belts that differentiated them from the male players.”

Having been educated in Japan, the author also knows, that there is a substantial difference in Japanese between kubetsu 区別 “distinction” and sabetsu 差別 “discrimination.” Is the fact of having a different belt, but of the same grade, in antithesis with Japanese cultural practices regarding distinction, not discrimination, between men and women? Well…

• The Japanese language varies depending on whether it is spoken by a man or by a woman.
• Men’s kimono are different from women’s kimono and are worn differently. The same goes for hakama.
• There is a day dedicated to male children and a day dedicated to female children.
• There are Shintō rites for boys and Shintō rites for girls.
• In Shintō temple architecture there are “male” shrines and “female” shrines (just see Fosco Maraini, L’Agape Celeste), distinguished by the form of certain decorations.

So distinctions, not discriminations, are simply the order of the day. Why be so surprised that Kanō Jigorō had established a difference in the appearance of belts is frankly incomprehensible.

“White-striped black belts appear dimensionally diminished to half their value because of the white line running through the center of the black belt.”

Here the author is claiming that the black belt seems of lesser value because there is less black and more white. Is it the white that makes the belt appear less prestigious? Yet, as the author knows perfectly well, even the theoretical belt for the 12th dan, the highest posssible degree, would be white. Where is it stated, specifically and precisely in the writings of Kanō Jigorō, that the women’s belt is conceived in that way to make it appear at a glance less important? Nowhere.

 

THE INTRODUCTION OF THE BLACK BELT WITH THE WHITE STRIPE

The author's entire discussion rests on the assumption that everything is always, in any case, the result of a deliberate choice conceived with the purpose of discriminating against women and favouring men. Which is, in essence, the crux of French post-modernist discourse. The woman who is making this statement practised Kōdōkan jūdō, was a champion, a coach, and studied to the doctoral level. Not exactly the biography of someone oppressed by the power structures of patriarchy.

“In the Taisho era, the white stripe symbolized schools for girls. Some people may have felt that the white-striped black belts signified disdain for female judokas but others felt that they did not indicate differences in professional competence but were, instead, merely prettier.”

The first sentence is frankly incomprehensible. There is no particular reason why the stripe should symbolise schools. I imagine this is an error of the author writing in English.

On what sources are these “it is said” based? There are no textual references of any kind, nor quotations. Either they are anecdotes, which have very little academic value, or a priori conclusions, which have even less.

“Those who joined the Kodokan women’s club were upper-class girls associated with Kano’s normal school or women connected to political parties. It was estimated that women judokas could be injured in matches with men. Thus, they were required to wear white-striped black belts to distinguish and protect them from harm.”

Here too, precise textual references are lacking, and thus it is difficult to assess on what the author bases her statements. It is certainly true that the first affiliates of the Kōdōkan were of relatively high social standing, but this must be framed in the historical context of the era: women’s education was strongly encouraged, rather than hindered, further proof that the “patriarchal” reading of the Kōdōkan in particular, and more broadly of Japanese culture in the Taishō era, is a forced and imprecise generalisation.

What then is the affront in wanting to distinguish men and women in order to prevent injuries, I frankly do not understand. This claim, moreover, is not supported by any footnote or bibliographic reference.

“However, unlike the men’s Judo organization, the Kodokan women’s club emphasized spiritual training, female beauty, and etiquette to train women to conform to the Japanese feminine ideal of Ryo Sai Kenbo 良妻賢母 (good wife, wise mother). This patriarchal educational ideal encouraged Japanese women to aspire to become good wives for their husbands and sagacious mothers for the apt nurture of their children.”

In the course of my life in Japan I had the fortune to meet many masters and to study many arts: Tea Ceremony, Classical Japanese Dance, Calligraphy, Iaidō, Kendō. Every single Japanese traditional art that ends with dō is designed to refine the human being, and consequently, in the Japanese perspective, also to teach etiquette and good manners. To men, as well as to women. The author is, in an extraordinarily dishonest way, trying to pass off the message that good manners were only for women. Moreover, only a few years later, the school reform would bring about the birth of the Kokumin gakkō (The People’s School), in which girls studied the use of the naginata. Therefore, the entire argument about training focussing of solely on aesthetic and spiritual aspects immediately and irreversibly collapses.

Not only that, but Kanō repeatedly wrote that kata such as the Itsutsu no kata, the Jū no kata and the Koshiki no kata have an artistic value akin to dance, and consequently the men who practised them were themselves exposed to the cultivation of their inner life and their aesthetic sensibility.

Not to mention that the ideal of the “good wife, wise mother” is an idea of Chinese origin which itself should be read and placed within its proper context, which is certainly not that of French academic circles of 1968. To criticise the past on the basis of the present is an operation that works well for those who embrace a certain ideology, but from the point of view of historical research it serves no purpose.

“At the Kodokan, male judokas were prohibited from entering the women’s dojo and women never associated with men other than Kano himself or with leaders designated by Kano. In that period, girls in Japan were prohibited from playing matches and were thus not accorded the opportunity to rise up the rankings.”

Apart from the by-now customary lack of bibliographic reference, which once again denotes an academic practice that is at the very least bizarre, what exactly does “playing matches” mean? The author does not distinguish between randori and shiai, and we are speaking of an expert, which leaves me very perplexed. Does it mean that women did not do randori? Or that they did not do shiai?

What exactly is the problem with having spaces reserved for women in which men could not enter? Here is the classic post-modernist game and the classic practice of victimisation: women had a dōjō that was reserved for them, in which men could not enter, but the very fact of having a space reserved only for women victimises them.

Let us come to the question of shiai. If one reads Kanō, both the original in Japanese and the various translations, it becomes immediately clear that Kanō cared little for shiai as such. On the contrary, more than once he lamented that Kōdōkan jūdō or its students were focusing too much on combat and not enough on the practice of kata. Does it then make sense that promotion exams were based precisely on what Kanō deplored, while Kanō was still alive? No.

And indeed, reading the regulations of 1920 and 1927, nowhere do we find that advancement in rank was mediated solely by shiai. On the contrary, in an article published in Jūdō in 1918, Kanō explicitly warns judoka not to confuse victory in shiai with automatic advancement in rank, and specifies instead that weight must be given to the number and quality of techniques known, and to the understanding of the principles of jūdō.

The paragraph closes with a statement that seems to indicate that women were deliberately not allowed to compete in tournaments so that they could not advance in rank. Since this was a decision at the highest levels, the implication is that it was Kanō who did not want to grant women the possibility of acquiring dan. There is no textual evidence of any kind that authorises making such an assertion, especially against the man who in fact opened the practice of Kōdōkan jūdō to women, and indeed the claim is not supported by any citation or reference.

Anyone who has the book Fondamenti del Judo can go and check the article on p.66 “The Organisation of Promotion” and verify for themselves that shiai was neither the principal instrument nor an indispensable element of promotion to first dan, so the whole argument that women could not advance in rank because they could not compete collapses immediately.

 

A MIXED JUDO MATCH BEFORE THE WAR

The author describes the Dai Nippon Butokukai as:

A rural organization called Dai Nippon Boutokukai

Now, “rural” has a very precise meaning. To be exact, the Dai Nippon Butokukai was founded in Kyōto, which is not countryside but the capital of Japan for a thousand years before the transfer to Edo, today’s Tōkyō, and it had absolutely nothing “rural” about it, having been born at the initiative of influential members of society, to the point that a member of the imperial family was placed at its head.

What the author is trying to do is draw a false divide between the Kōdōkan, accused of being elitist and therefore reactionary and obscurantist as an expression of the urban bourgeoisie, and the Butokukai, which as a “rural” body was supposedly freer. How she can do this, knowing that she is Japanese and therefore should know perfectly well that things are not like that, I find astonishing.

To be clear: the Dai Nippon Butokukai was created to preserve and transmit martial tradition (key word: tradition), both from the practical and from the ethical point of view. And what was the martial ethic? Neo-Confucianism, the same that the author had literally criticised a page earlier because it had given rise to the idea of women as good wives and wise mothers.

Japanese history shows us that various women belonging to the samurai class were, in fact, good wives, wise mothers, and skilled fighters. These are not mutually exclusive conditions. I myself am married to a descendant of a samurai family and I heard directly from the voice of the director of the Bushidō Association these words: “If the bushi were so valiant in combat, is it not also thanks to the fact that there were mothers who raised them that way?” Consequently, martial virtues were implicitly and explicitly the patrimony of both men and women, and acquiring the one did not mean renouncing the other, as well known to anyone familiar with the maxim bunbu ryōdō 文武両道 (“the dual path of letters and arms”). It is postmodernist rhetoric that needs to find victims where there are none, to trace arbitrary divisions where none exist, and to read every expression of relations between human beings as a power game aimed at domination. Do we need this to better understand martial arts, Kōdōkan jūdō? No.

In environments prone to post-modernism it has become common practice to place so-called “trigger warnings,” “notices” that what one is about to hear, see or read might offend someone’s sensibilities.

Now, I do not care whether the facts offend anyone, but I will momentarily abide by a practice I do not share: the objective facts described in the next paragraph may offend the emotional sensibilities of someone. Read at your discretion, or skip to the next.

Katsuko Kosaki 小崎甲子 defeated three men in five challenges in the promotion examination match held at the Butokukai in 1932. She was the first woman to be placed in the first dan at the Butokukai. After this feat, Kanō awarded Kosaki the honour of becoming the first woman to be placed at the first dan in Kodokan.

(A quick note to the English-speaking reader:  I Fondamenti del Judo is a partial, non-professional translation of some articles by Kanō Jigorō that was published in Italy in the second half of the '90s)

Anyone who has read I Fondamenti del Judo will certainly recall the article “Kodokan and Butokukai,” in which Kanō Jigorō, the founder of Kōdōkan jūdō, speaks about the relationship between the Kōdōkan and the Butokukai. For completeness, before proceeding, let us recall that the Kōdōkan was founded in 1882, the Butokukai in 1895, and that Kanō Jigorō was both the founder of the Kōdōkan and the director of the Jūjutsu Department of the Butokukai. Therefore, however one wishes to put it, the fact is that the Kōdōkan had precedence, both chronologically and in terms of legitimacy.

Having established this, in the said article Kanō writes:

“[…] The Butokukai adopted Kōdōkan jūdō as an educational method, at least in its headquarters, entrusted to teachers who, even with numerous replacements, were never designated outside the disciples of the Kōdōkan; which means that at the Butokukai school, Kōdōkan jūdō is taught in every sense […]”

So, however one wishes to put it, the fact is that the Butokukai used Kōdōkan jūdō, not a different kind of jūdō. I know what it means to make such a statement knowing that in Italy there was Abe (with a single “b”) Kenshirō who raised certain criticisms against the Kōdōkan, but I imagine this concerned the institution, not the discipline. Just as jūdō has always been and will always be Japanese, because it was born there, from a Japanese, according to techniques and principles profoundly Japanese, so jūdō is and will remain Kōdōkan jūdō, because that is how it was born. Its name is precisely that.

Let us proceed. I renew the invitation to make use of the trigger warning for those who begin to feel disturbed.

The Japanese version of the article can be found in the Collected Works of Kanō, Vol.1, p.303. The Italian translation diverges to some extent from the original, but this is a subject I have dealt with in the past and will not dwell on here. This is the transcription of pages 306 and 307:

 講道館においては古くから段制度を設け、級の上に初段があり、それが二段、三段と、十何段でも限りなく進むことになってゐるのである。武徳会の本部で修行してゐるものも、勿論講道館柔道を行ふものであるから、以後は武徳会の教師の申出により、講道館において相当の段に進むることにして、修行者の数も殖え、教師の資格者が漸々増加することになったのである。そのうち、東京の講道館本館に申出できるも、武徳会において段を授けて支部の相談に与り、最後の決定をすることにしたのである。 それも最初のうちは、低い段に限り承認を与えて段を授けることにしてゐたが、後には更に進め、六段以上に当るものも、五段に進むものも、剣道にも段制度を設け、高段に及し、そのうち武徳会においては定めた委員の銓衡によって決定することにしてゐるのである。 今日は移り易く、柔道は大体上の通りであるが、ここに一の問題が生じてきた。それは、最初武徳会が京都で育ったものであったから、特に当時京都においては、講道館の段に無関係に、武道会において道場の認めたとか、また講道館の審議員の意見も聞かずに、むやみに昇段せしめてしまったといふやうな例がしばしば出てきた。 それはもう種々の苦情が生じてきたのである。それをもつと合理的に解決したいものと思つてゐるのである。武徳会さへ同意すれば、段は元来講道館のものであり、教師・範士は武徳会のものであるから、講道館で教師・範士を与えぬやうに、武徳会は段を与えぬことにし、段は講道館のみであるが、武徳会においては、柔道のみならず剣道にも今後それをやめて、異なつた審議機関の申合せによって、各自適当と認める標準によって、勝手に昇段せしむるといふやうなことがあつては、せつかく継続された柔道の階段を破壊することになるのであるから、この弊害を除くことに努力せねばならぬ。 それで、自分は、一面に京都における重なる柔道関係者と、種々解決方につき熟議してゐると同時に、武徳会の会長、副会長としばしば会合して、協議してゐるのである。遠からず、何とかだれしもが満足するやうに解決したいものである。

At the Kōdōkan, from early times, a dan system was established: above the kyū there is first dan, then second dan, third dan, and so on, able to advance without limit, even beyond tenth dan. Since those training at the headquarters of the Butokukai naturally also practised Kōdōkan jūdō, it was decided, following the request of Butokukai instructors, that they should advance to the corresponding dan at the Kōdōkan. Thus the number of practitioners increased, and the number of those qualified as instructors gradually rose as well. At that juncture, although it was possible to apply at the Kōdōkan headquarters in Tōkyō, it was decided that the Butokukai would confer the dan, participate in the deliberations of its own branches, and that the final decision would be taken in that way.

At first, this applied only to the lower ranks; authorisation was granted and dan were conferred within that limit. Later, however, it was extended further, covering those advancing to fifth dan, even sixth dan and beyond. A dan system was also established in kendō, extending to high grades, and in those cases it was decided that the Butokukai would make the decision on the basis of the evaluation of commissioners appointed by it.

Today the situation is changeable, and for jūdō matters stand largely as I have described; but here a problem has arisen. Since the Butokukai had its origin in Kyōto, it happened in particular that then, in Kyōto, independently of the Kōdōkan dan, some (awarded dan to a practitioner) within the Butokukai simply on the approval of a dōjō, and furthermore, without even hearing the opinion of Kōdōkan councillors, promoted people indiscriminately. Such cases occurred frequently. Naturally this produced all kinds of complaints. I thought the matter should be resolved in a more rational way.

If only the Butokukai would agree to this: dan are originally the prerogative of the Kōdōkan, while the titles of kyōshi and hanshi belong to the Butokukai. Just as the Kōdōkan does not confer the titles of kyōshi or hanshi, so the Butokukai should not confer dan; dan must belong to the Kōdōkan alone.

However, within the Butokukai, not only in jūdō but also in kendō, there has been a tendency to depart from this, and through arrangements of different deliberative bodies, to promote to dan according to standards each one deemed appropriate, at their own discretion. Such practices destroy the carefully maintained gradation of jūdō; therefore these abuses must be eliminated through sincere effort. For this reason, on the one hand I am discussing in depth with the leading jūdō men of Kyōto possible solutions; at the same time, I often meet and confer with the president and vice-president of the Butokukai.

I earnestly hope that before long a resolution may be reached that will satisfy everyone.

 

This means that the Butokukai neither had the permission nor the right to issue dan independently of the Kōdōkan, mainly because it had its own system of titles (renshi, kyōshi, hanshi). Kanō is very firm: “dan must belong to the Kōdōkan” precisely because Kōdōkan jūdō belonged to the Kōdōkan.

The Butokukai did not abide by this limitation, as those familiar with the life of Abe Kenshirō before coming to Europe know veery well, and as a result this provoked serious problems in relations between Kanō Jigorō and the Butokukai. It is for this reason, not because of oppressive patriarchy, that the dan of the Butokukai were illegitimate. The best proof comes from Abe Kenshirō himself: when, in polemic with the Kōdōkan, he attempted to return his dan, the Kōdōkan refused; since it had not been the Kōdōkan that had conferred them, it could not accept their restitution.

To prevent possible misunderstandings: I am in no way questioning the competence of Abe Kenshirō, his legitimacy or ability as an instructor, nor any other aspect of the individual as such.

The article dates to April 1932, the same year Kosaki achieved her victory in the Butokukai tournament. Abe Kenshirō obtained second dan at the age of 17, in 1932. The reader can analyse Kanō’s words concerning the actions of the Butokukai regarding the awarding of dan and draw the relative conclusions.

“The Butokukai, of which Kosaki was a member, women were accepted and practised Judo with men. They were also allowed to test for promotion to the next level under the same conditions as men.”

There is no source that confirms Mizoguchi’s claim, other than Mizoguchi herself. On the contrary, there is abundant evidence in support of the opposite thesis: the account of Kosaki’s performance describes it as an exception, not as the norm. The Butokukai had its own women’s section and had training programmes reserved for women, so to maintain that mixed training was the rule is an unsupported tall tale at best.

“In 1939, she was designated the first female Judo Renshi, a title designating an exceptional instructor.”

I am sincerely incredulous, and must assume it is a misprint. The author, being an expert and being Japanese, cannot not know that renshi 練士 was in fact the lowest of the titles offered by the Butokukai, and indicates simply someone who is in the course of training, not an instructor (kyōshi 教士) and certainly not a master (hanshi 範士). The error is so glaring that it must indeed be an error. Or else, as has happened to other authors in the past, the author is counting on the fact that Westerners generally do not speak Japanese and will not notice such things.

“Kosaki’s achievements transcended gender differences between men and women and her title of Judo Renshi became an accomplishment that overturned the gender concepts of her times.”

In fact, with all due respect to the author, the gender concepts of that era remained exactly the same at least until the end of the Second World War, ten years later, so it is not clear what the sentence is supposed to allude to.

“But after Kosaki was promoted at the Butokukai, the organization was compelled to follow suit and establish a promotion pathway for the Kodokan women’s club.”

Here the author maintains that Kosaki’s victory forced the organisation (i.e. Kanō) to establish a way for women too to be promoted. It seems rather curious to think that Kanō could be forced to manage his association in a certain way because of having received a dan outside of the association itself. Ignoring, moreover, the fact that the women’s section had already existed since 1926 and that there is no mention in any writing of Kanō in which he discusses his intentions or projects for women’s jūdō.

“At the Kodokan, Noritomi skipped the first dan and was awarded second dan. This promotion made Noritomi the leading female Kodokan Judoka; however, Kosaki was ahead because she had actually won matches.”

The author is claiming that of the two, Kosaki was superior to Noritomi since she had won matches.

We have seen that the Kōdōkan’s promotion rules required not only victory as such, but knowledge of technique and understanding of principles. The author instead wishes to portray the event as a slight to Kosaki and to indicate her as superior because she had gained victories. Which is like saying that Saigō Shirō or Tomita Tsunejirō were superior to Kanō because, unlike him, they had actually fought. And all this while deploring the excessively combat- and victory-oriented drift of men’s jūdō. The reasoning is absolutely illogical and in stark contradiction with itself, but it serves perfectly the post-modernist game of turning any situation into an insult, a domination, or a power struggle. At the service, naturally, not of knowledge or the advancement of Kōdōkan jūdō, but of post-modernist ideology as such.

 

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE BLACK BELT AND THE BLACK BELT WITH THE WHITE STRIPE

“Kano was obliged to introduce a white-striped black belt at the Kodokan women’s club.”

By whom was Kanō, the founder and director of the Kōdōkan, obliged? The author does not tell us. She asserts it and leaves it to our willingness to believe it, as with the vast majority of her claims in this study, without substantiating it, explaining it, or demonstrating it in any way.

“The Butokukai awarded a solid black belt to women, while the Kodokan’s black belt for women included a white stripe.”

Apart from the observation of this concrete detail, in what sense is this a problem, and why is it not easier to explain it by the wish to distinguish the grades awarded by the Kōdōkan—on the basis of its own programmes and principles—from those which the Butokukai awarded arbitrarily without consulting the Kōdōkan, even though the discipline in fact belonged to the Kōdōkan?

“After World War II, the general headquarters (GHQ) of the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers ordered the dissolution of the Butokukai.”

This statement is completely false. It is enough to check the material available freely at the Digital Library of the Japanese Diet to verify at once that the Supreme Allied Command never issued such an order, while the opposite is true: it was the Butokukai that self-censored and dissolved itself in anticipation of possible purges for those members who had been complicit with the regime during the war. I have discussed and demonstrated at length the groundlessness of this false notion in this study:

https://acquautunnale.blogspot.com/2024/11/foundations-3-false-prohibition-of-budo.html

As a result, the Kōdōkan became again the only body legitimised to award dan, as should have always been, and its rules became again the only valid ones within the discipline that had originated from it, including those concerning the white stripe on the women’s belt. For the author,

“This mandate was confusing and discriminatory for many female Butokukai judokas, who were now compelled to adopt the white-striped black belt.”

How a rule that applies to all indistinctly can be discriminatory, I cannot understand.

 

FEMINISM AND COMPETITION

According to Kanokogi, some of the Japanese leaders of the time applied the customs and rules of Japanese society within the dōjō and seemed like dictators: 

Here we have yet another representation of ad hoc victimisation. And yet, as the author herself kindly reminds us, these were “the customs and rules of Japanese society.” Rules and customs.

What follows is a statement of such gross and pitiful ignorance as to leave one dumbfounded. To pour someone a drink would equivalent to being a geisha.

According to Kanokogi, some of the Japanese leaders of the time applied the customs and rules of Japanese society within the dojo and seemed like dictators.“When the lesson was over, Sensei ordered his student to drink beer with him. The woman was there as well, pouring beer. I hated it because I thought it was like Geisha."

The author, being Japanese, knows perfectly well that becoming a geisha requires years and years of extremely hard daily training, and that—contrary to what was shown in a revolting film I will not name, taken from a badly written and even more badly conceived novel—the profession of geisha has nothing whatsoever to do with sex. A geisha is a professional skilled in multiple arts, who enjoys dignity and respect. The curious may read the autobiography Geisha, a Life (Storia di una Geisha) by Iwasaki Mineko, and see how things really are.

Anyone who has travelled in Japan knows that younger people pour drinks for their elders, because that is the proper thing to do. There is nothing oppressive about this, no more than it is oppressive to take off one’s shoes when entering a house, or to greet by bowing the head.

A few lines later, it gets even better.

“If anything, the existence of forbidden waza for women alone spoke to the restriction of waza based on masculine hegemony and the erotic perspective. Surprisingly, such rules were not revised for over a decade. Techniques that ostensibly lacked femininity were taboo for women at that time. These included the Uchi Mata (内股), Ōuchi-gari (大内刈), Kōuchi-gari (小内刈), and Newaza (寝技). These techniques are now the most popular techniques among women judokas.”

Here we are truly at the level of Simone de Beauvoir. Let us look at the facts.

In what measure and by what criterion should uchi mata be less feminine than ōsoto gari? The author does not explain. We must simply believe that the problem was the prudery of the overbearing male.

Some clarifications. In Japanese mythology, Japan is conceived by Izanagi no Mikoto and Izanami no Mikoto, two kami who descend to earth and engage in a sexual act after ritually marrying. In other words: at the origin of Japan there is a sexual union between a male kami and a female kami.

There are traditional festivals in which wooden statues representing vulvas and phalluses are carried in triumph by men and women. And they do not exist since yesterday: they predate the foundation of the Kōdōkan by several centuries. Until not very long ago, public baths were mixed. Men and women sat naked in the same tubs. Women sometimes worked in the fields bare-chested. There is a rich and very varied tradition of shunga 春画 prints depicting erotic scenes of the most imaginative kinds. How does all this coexist with the idea that patriarchal hegemony forced women not to use uchi mata in competition?

 

RULES FOR JAPANESE WOMEN

We are in 1978, the year of the first Japanese national championship. The author tells us:

“Japanese women were required to wear short-sleeved white round-neck shirts, sport a white-striped black belt, and tie long hair.”

Apart from the belt, what exactly is the problem with tying back hair and wearing a T-shirt under the jūdōgi is not explained to us, but it is presented as something that men are not required to do. I suspect it might have something to do with the obvious anatomical differences between the male and the female torso.

But this is the lesser point. Here is a more significant passage:

“In Yamaguchi’s opinion, the game rules for women imputed the male desire for aggression onto women. She felt that the rules insulted all female judokas because prohibitions such as ‘Don’t grab opponent’s hair’ were meant only for women. According to her, all judokas, regardless of whether they were male or female, knew not to grab their opponent’s hair even if it was not specifically banned. Yamaguchi thus felt that the rules were generated out of a male perspective of what could be expected from women and were thus demeaning.”

Yamaguchi, and consequently Mizoguchi, certainly cannot be unaware that an explicit prohibition against grabbing hair was already part of the men’s regulations in 1960. The Kōdōkan Jūdō Regulations for Matches state that among the prohibited acts there is:

「相手の髪の毛をつかむこと」 — “Grabbing the opponent’s hair.”

An identical provision is found in the 1967 regulations of the International Judo Federation.

Therefore it is evident that the mention of the prohibition against grabbing hair is not, as Yamaguchi erroneously claims, the result of a “male perspective” on what could be expected from women, but is exactly what the author laments the absence of: the extension to women of the very same rules applied to men.

 

CONCLUSIONS

And here we are at the final points. After having spent almost the entire study scattering a priori assumptions and arbitrary conclusions as if they were indisputable facts, the author writes:

“A further reason that Kano prohibited matches in women’s judo may have been an interest in creating ‘judo as play’ (women’s judo) through kata and melees as an antithesis to matches (men’s judo).”

Now it is a matter of “may.”. It's just possible. Then there is a notable and curious lack of precision in differentiating shiai and randori. The author speaks of “matches” and “melees,” so it is difficult to establish what exactly she is referring to.

“Kano is also said to have spoken of ‘kata’ as grammar and ‘matches’ as essays (Noritomi, 1972).”

Here there is another inconceivable (in my view) demonstration of complete lack of method and of respect for the reader. Kanō’s writings are in the same language as the author’s. It takes very little to go and check what Kanō did or did not say. One cannot—or rather, one should not—use a secondary source instead of citing directly Kanō’s exact words, not in something that concerns him so closely, but then we must remember that post-modernism does not believe in the existence of  objective reality and therefore very little appetite for proper research based on verifiable textual evidence. 

“Prewar, the Kodokan women’s division constituted women’s physical education for daughters of the Tokyo upper class as a part of ‘good wife, wise mother’ education, with no matches being held. In contrast, the women of the Butokukai were primarily from the provincial middle class, taking part in judo in a liberal atmosphere with matches and melees held regardless of gender.”

Here the author would like to convince us that the Kōdōkan was at the service of the oppressive ideology that aimed to transform women solely into good wives and wise mothers, while the Butokukai was a liberal institution in which women trained together with men.

This is a complete and intellectually dishonest inversion of reality. First, Kanō had conceived Kōdōkan jūdō to be ideologically neutral, so that anyone could practise it, and none of his writings say—either explicitly or implicitly—that women’s jūdō was meant to turn women into good wives and wise mothers. This was certainly the expectation of the era, but it was the culture of that time, for both men and women, not Kanō’s intention or a deliberate decision of the Kōdōkan. Second, the Butokukai was in every respect an institution connected with the government and fully involved in the spread of militarist ideology, so to claim that its atmosphere was liberal is nonsense. In addition, as we have seen, Kosaki was the exception, not the rule; it is therefore incorrect and misleading to try to convince the reader that mixed training at the Butokukai was the norm.

And finally, the coup de grâce.

“Because the Butoku Kai (‘Martial Virtue Society’) and kosen (technical college) judo had collapsed after the war, a myth became established and accepted, with Kodokan judo coming to represent ‘legitimate judo’ and the Butoku Kai and kosen judo as ‘heretical judo’.”

According to the author, the fact that Kōdōkan jūdō is legitimate jūdō is a myth. Even though Kanō, as we have seen, wrote explicitly that the Butokukai too used Kōdōkan jūdō, and thus that Butokukai jūdō was also Kōdōkan jūdō. Even though the Kōdōkan was founded before the Butokukai, and even though it was Kanō, not the Butokukai, who developed jūdō. Among other things, kōsen jūdō has an entirely different origin, so associating it with Kōdōkan jūdō and with the Butokukai does not make much sense.

One is left dumbfounded. How can something like this be published without anyone protesting, without anyone saying anything? Where is the much-vaunted respect for Kanō Jigorō and for his “creation,” as some call it? For his principles and his values? For real history, not for fabrications crafted to bring water to the mill of this or that ideological current?

Mizoguchi's study systematically ignores historical sources, manipulates concepts, and advances claims without documentation. These are not simple inaccuracies: this is a practice which, when clothed in academic garb, produces mystification and not knowledge.

It is a duty to denounce it. Not only out of respect for historical truth, but also out of respect for Kanō Jigorō, the founder of the Kōdōkan, who with his writings and actions made it possible for women too to access jūdō.

That claims of this kind have been published in an academic context without contestation is a symptom of a structural problem: ideological conformism that places a pre-fabricated interpretation above the verification of facts. To allow this to happen means to betray not only the memory of Kanō, but the very principle on which Kōdōkan jūdō rests: the sincere search for truth through study and practice.

— Emanuele Bertolani