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The Invention of Martial Arts Popular Culture Between Asia and America Bowman Full Chapter
The Invention of Martial Arts Popular Culture Between Asia and America Bowman Full Chapter
Paul Bowman
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Contents
Acknowledgements vii
Introduction 1
References 245
Index 259
Acknowledgements
The idea behind this book occurred to me in 2013, and I have been working to-
wards realizing it ever since. However, other things needed to be in place first.
This took the form of my 2015 monograph, Martial Arts Studies: Disrupting
Disciplinary Boundaries, the establishment of The Martial Arts Studies
Research Network, with its annual conferences, and the creation of the aca-
demic journal, Martial Arts Studies.
This project really began to find its feet in late 2016, when I secured a re-
search assistant to help me uncover and analyse stories about martial arts
in the British press. From that point onwards, over a period of three years,
three different research assistants (funded by Cardiff University’s CUROP
Programme) assisted me invaluably with different aspects of the project. In
2017, Paul Hilleard worked with me to research British newspaper stories on
martial arts and martial artists; in 2018, Jia Kuek helped me to research the
British martial arts cultural industry; and in 2019, Kirsten Mackay helped me
to carry out broad-based research across a wide range of media, including
film and television archives. At the very end of the project, my most eagle-
eyed PhD student, Evelina Kazakevičiūté, compiled the index. I thank all of
these excellent students for their contributions, and the School of Journalism,
Media and Culture at Cardiff University, for its consistent support.
I first presented the outline argument and preliminary findings at re-
search seminars in Cardiff University during 2017–2018; one in the School
of Journalism, Media and Culture, in December 2017, and another in
the Critical and Cultural Theory Seminar Series in the School of English,
Communication and Philosophy, in March 2018. I also gave seminars on the
research to the Cardiff hub of the Martial Arts Studies Research Network at
that time. Colleagues, including George Jennings, Terry Morrell, and Qays
Stetkevych, provided invaluable feedback.
The first full draft of the manuscript was written between 2018 and 2019,
while I was a beneficiary of Cardiff University’s Distinguished Research Leave
Fellowship Scheme. During this time, I was also invited to present drafts of
the arguments and research findings in the research seminars of the Institut
de la Communication et des Médias, Sorbonne Nouvelle Paris 3, in October
2018, at the kind invitation of Professor Éric Maigret; and in the Department
of Media, Culture and Heritage at Newcastle University, at the kind invitation
viii Acknowledgements
When I met Jon, we would always discuss these matters, and we hatched
plans to work together in different ways. I began work on a project to produce
a series of short documentary films about the status of martial arts in British
culture and society. We planned one episode that would feature Jon and other
important thinkers and cultural figures in a film that would be entitled ‘Black,
British, and Bruce Lee’. To me, this was to be the backbone of the project, and
would be the flagship film of the series.
But Jon was taken from us, far too early, in 2017. We never had a chance to
work together, and I found that I could not return to that particular project in
any way, shape, or form without him. But his artwork, and his important col-
lections live on.
When working with me to create a cover image for this particular book,
my colleague, Dr Sara Sylvester, helped me realize that an ideal image for
the cover of this book already existed, in the form of Jon’s artwork, titled
‘Williams’. In the influential 1973 classic, Enter the Dragon, Williams is a sup-
porting character to the dazzling Bruce Lee. But he speaks volumes about the
international and multi-ethnic appeal of East Asian martial arts in the early
1970s. Indeed, as a figure, Williams is both secondary and yet strangely cen-
tral. As such, ‘Williams’ amounts to an ideal image for the cover of this pre-
sent study. I sincerely thank his widow, Jane, for her kind permission to reuse
this striking image on the cover of the book. I dedicate it to the memory of
Jon Daniel. Whatever else happens with the book in the future, one thing
is certain. Thanks to Jon’s artwork, I certainly need not worry about how it
looks: in the words of Williams in Enter the Dragon, it will always be ‘too busy
looking good’.
The Invention of Martial Arts
Introduction
This book is based on research into and arguments about a hitherto neglected
relationship between martial arts, media, and popular culture. It seeks to con-
tribute specifically to media and cultural studies and to the emergent aca-
demic field of martial arts studies. Martial arts studies is an interdisciplinary
research area that analyses myriad aspects of martial arts, including prac-
tices, histories, traditions, institutions, and textual representations (Bowman
2014a; 2015; Bowman and Judkins 2015). The book is primarily concerned
with media representations of martial arts—particularly with the kinds and
contexts of representation that have so far been neglected by scholars. For in-
stance, much has been written about martial arts in media such as mainstream
film, but considerably less has been written about martial arts in such equally
popular and prevalent forms as pop songs, music videos, children’s television
and advertisements. These often ignored yet important realms of media cul-
ture take up much of the focus of the book. My claim is that no matter how
trivial such representations may appear, they are significant and possibly con-
sequential in different ways and thus deserve serious attention for a range of
reasons.
The field of martial arts studies uses forms of analysis derived and devel-
oped from many academic fields, and involves diverse theories, methodolo-
gies, and analytical techniques. This is necessary not only because martial
arts studies is an emergent and ‘pre-paradigmatic’ area that is in a sense ‘still
finding its feet’ (Nicholls 2010; Bowman 2015) but also because martial arts
must be approached as complex practices that exist within the realms of media
representation, cultural discourse, art, social institutions, law, commerce, ed-
ucation, and even government policy as much as they exist within specific
human minds and bodies, clubs, schools, associations, and lineage traditions
(Kennedy 2010; Trausch 2018b). Martial arts are heterogeneous, diverse, mul-
tiple, and scattered. They appear in bits and pieces, in proxies, in connota-
tions, associations, condensations, metaphors and metonymies, in different
forms, all over media, culture, and society.
The Invention of Martial Arts. Paul Bowman, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197540336.001.0001.
2 Introduction
This book explores issues drawn from media texts available in the British
context and explores them in terms of questions and concerns derived from
debates in media and cultural studies, ethnicity and gender studies, martial
arts studies, ideology studies, postcolonial studies, and popular culture. In
doing so, it incorporates different theories, arguments, and conceptualizations
of cultural and social practices, and indeed of culture and society themselves.
Some of these may be unfamiliar to non-academic readers or those working
in areas of academia that do not incorporate cultural theory. However, when
introducing and using theoretical terms, concepts, and arguments, the text
has been made as clear as possible, with explanations of what specific tech-
nical terms mean, and setting out the most relevant points and contours of the
theory or argument in question.
Why Theory?
At first glance, martial arts may seem simple. However, any discussion of
them will involve an implicit or explicit theory about them. Indeed, theory
is unavoidable in any discussion of culture or society, or any of their features.
We can see this in the fact that there are always disputes about what culture
and society themselves ‘are’, and hence what the things within them are—
what they mean, and what they do. In both academic and wider public dis-
course, all of this is a matter of dispute. There are many different theories and
arguments about what things are and do. Different features and phenomena
‘within’ culture or society can be explained in more than one way, or taken as
evidence for very different things. For instance, martial arts practices, when
evaluated in terms of one theory, might be read as expressing some funda-
mental facet of human nature. In terms of another theory, they might be read
as media-fuelled escapism (Brown 1997). They may be read as individualistic
practices or, conversely, as deeply communal (Partikova 2019); some may re-
gard them as standardizing, or forms of consumerism, while others may see
them as stimulating uniqueness and creativity (O’Shea 2018a). Some perspec-
tives can frame martial arts as practices that normalize identities and behav-
iours (García 2018), while others can perceive ways that martial arts enable
multiple kinds of gender, class, ethnic, and other kinds of identity invention,
transgression, transformation, and diversification (Brown 1997; Maor 2019);
and much more besides.
In this work, I use different theories in much the same way that scien-
tists might use different lenses on a microscope, or different scanning de-
vices, to establish more about the properties of entities and organisms, from
Introduction 3
and ‘the way the human world works’. So, we can never be free from theory.
This means that the meanings and consequences of social and cultural phe-
nomena and facts—such as martial arts—are always open to interpretation.
Consequently, rather than trying to reject theory, this work embraces it.
Different theories, arguments, and approaches ask us to think about things in
different ways, to identify different kinds of details and take them seriously,
as possible sources of evidence for interpretations, and to evaluate different
kinds of evidence in different ways. In this regard, different theories and styles
of approach can be rewarding. But the language of theory can also be off-
putting to some readers. When faced with cultural theory, for instance, those
who have not been academically trained to relatively high levels may feel that
they are entering into a world of ‘jargon’.
‘Jargon’ is a pejorative term, and one that is often incorrectly applied. To take
any communication to a higher level, as fast as possible, all practices need
technical languages. If I were in urgent need of medical treatment, I would
not complain if those who were treating me used technical shorthand, ab-
breviations, and professionally agreed terms. To use an analogy that will
bring this back to martial arts: if I go to a new gym or martial arts class, it
may take some time to be taught and to master any technique, from a jab to a
thruster to an arm-bar, or indeed any exercise or technique. But once I have
absorbed something of what goes into the movement or technique, I can
happily use the technical term (whether the name of the technique or of the
mode of its deployment) to discuss it and take my understanding or my per-
formance forward. A boxing coach does not start every session with a slow
run through of how to stand, where to position the hands and how to move
in order to throw a jab. It does not take very long at all before a coach can
simply say ‘Jab!’ or ‘Arm-bar!’, or indeed ‘Thrusters!’—you name it—and the
people they are addressing will understand. The names are technical terms
that have a world of technical knowledge condensed into them. Being able
to use the name for the thing saves time and enables the forward movement
of a discourse.
Academic languages are technical in exactly this sense. This is not to say
they cannot be misused or abused, nor be off-putting or inappropriate in
certain contexts. Terms that feature in this work, such as text, discourse, he-
gemony, ideology, identification, semiotics, deconstruction, poststructuralism,
among others, have a huge amount of content condensed into them—in much
Introduction 5
the same way that jabs, arm-bars, and thrusters have huge amounts contained
within them. You can get the gist of the jab in one lesson; you may work on
perfecting it for years. In discussing it with others, you may find that there is
ever more to say about it. So, in one sense it is simple; in another, it is infinitely
and infinitesimally ever-unfolding (Knorr-Cetina 1981; 2003; Spatz 2015). The
same is true of academic terms and concepts. You can get the gist very quickly,
but it takes work to begin to plumb their depths.
This is the relationship to and use of theory that you will encounter within
this book. It uses the language of the field of media, cultural, and martial arts
studies; it is in dialogue with these fields and seeks to contribute to them. At
the same time, it tries to be as accessible as possible for newer readers, many
of whom will find the treatment of martial arts in this way to be unusual.
Indeed, some have even found this treatment to be offensive (see Bowman
2016a). However, it is important to point out that, contrary to the alarmed
responses of certain critics (especially during the time that academic mar-
tial arts studies first started to gain prominence, around 2015), one thing that
martial arts studies does not do is ‘separate’ or ‘abstract’ martial arts from ‘re-
ality’, or from their ‘truth’, from ‘real values’, actual ‘practice’, or anything of the
sort (Bowman 2016a, 919; 2017a, 61). In fact, if anything, martial arts studies
seeks to do the very opposite: by paying serious and detailed attention to so-
cial and cultural contexts, histories, relations and forces, representations, po-
litical ideologies, economic dimensions, the details of practice, and the many
other factors that have a bearing on producing, controlling, or transforming
martial arts, from the minutiae of specific practices to the (very) social mean-
ings carried by the term ‘martial arts’ in different contexts; not to mention re-
fining our understanding of why certain martial arts are practiced, with what
effects, and so on.
Coverage
This book is the end result of two sustained strands of research and analysis
carried out between 2016 and 2019. The bulk of the primary research car-
ried out was on martial arts as they appear and function in mainstream media
and popular culture. It is from this wide-ranging research that the case studies
discussed in the following pages were selected. During 2017 and 2018 my re-
search was augmented by the invaluable assistance of two research assistants
(Paul Hilleard and Jia Kuek), each exploring distinct fields. This was followed
up by a period of research leave between 2018 and 2019, during which time
I synthesized the research and wrote up this analysis of the findings. The work
6 Introduction
of a third research assistant at this time (Kirsten Mackay) helped to enrich and
refine its historical and cross-media sweep.
Overall, the book is based on new research into the history and develop-
ment of representations and treatments of martial arts as they feature within
key, but often overlooked, realms of popular culture, with a specific focus on
texts as they have circulated within British popular culture. All of this was
singled out for research because it has hitherto been significantly under-
researched. By comparison with research into martial arts in Asia or America,
or the filmic and popular cultural traffic between these geographical and
cultural regions, Britain appears as a backwater. Yet, Britain has not only re-
ceived and consumed Asian and American popular cultural texts about and
approaches to martial arts for decades; it has also produced its own martial
arts cultural texts. My aim in this research was to uncover and analyse this
semiotic environment and discursive context, in order to understand more
about the appearance, development, and circulation of ideas about and im-
ages of martial arts in media culture.
British popular culture and society has never existed in isolation from the trade
route that I am here characterizing as spanning ‘between’ Asia and America;
nor can it be divorced from it. The traffic between these two major sources and
destinations has had myriad effects on British popular culture. My interest,
throughout the research projects underpinning this work, was in exploring what
‘went into’ the production of texts and practices in the British context and ex-
ploring the characteristics of British productions, but always within the context
of this complex, international textual traffic system. In singling out ‘Asia’ and
‘America’ as key driving forces of martial arts in popular culture, the complex sit-
uation of non-Asian and non-American popular cultures is formulated through
the at-once clarifying and simplifying image of being ‘between’.
There are problems with this characterization, but there is also ample justi-
fication for it. For, when it comes to the production and circulation of martial
arts texts, discourses and practices, it is undoubtedly the case that, increas-
ingly throughout the twentieth century, Asia and America have been the
two main regional powerhouses of both popular cultural ideas and the most
widely known practices of martial arts. This is exemplified both in terms of
the growth and spread of martial arts practices in these and other societies
and in terms of the scale and impact of the films produced in the film in-
dustries of Hong Kong, Japan, and Hollywood—products that constructed,
disseminated, fuelled, and fanned the flames of international martial arts
booms, crazes, and enduring cultural transformations the world over (Lo
2005; Morris, Li, and Chan 2005; Hiramoto 2014; Marchetti and Kam 2007;
Hiramoto 2014; Barrowman 2015).
Introduction 7
A visual metaphor for this situation can be found in a scene in the 1982
Hollywood Cold War film, Firefox. In this film, an American military agent
(Clint Eastwood) steals the Soviet Union’s new super-jet (the eponymous
Firefox)—a jet with amazing qualities, including the ability to remain invis-
ible to radar. As he flies away over a frozen landscape, the pilot inspects the
controls in the cockpit and says to himself, ‘Ah, let’s see what this thing can do.’
He then accelerates to astonishing speeds as he tests the manoeuvrability of
the jet, flying at a very low altitude. After a few seconds, he notices that flying
at such low altitude and at such great speed has caused the jet’s powerful slip-
stream to throw up a long path of vast clouds of snow and debris. Given that
he is attempting to escape Soviet airspace unnoticed and undetected while
they are undoubtedly looking for him very intensely, this is a terrible mis-
take: the snow and debris thrown up like a storm in his slipstream will provide
clear evidence to Soviet radar of exactly where Firefox has been, as well as its
direction and speed.
This visual image captures something of the situation in Britain and other
countries in response to the force of martial arts films, magazines, books,
manuals, fashions, and practices flowing out of Asia and America during the
second half of the twentieth century. Hugely influential powerhouses of films,
television programmes, music videos, magazines, books, fashions, ideas, and
embodied practices have flown at low level and great speed across the world,
whipping up the terrain and exposing innumerable locales to new ideas, im-
ages, ideals, aspirations, fantasies, and lifestyle choices, tearing through and
reconfiguring much of the cultural material that was there before—causing
turbulence, generating new activity, stimulating excitement and interest, and
moving things around significantly (Bowman 2010a). I find this a suggestive
way to visualize the cross-cultural traffic of martial arts texts and practices.
My aim in this research project was to gain a better understanding of the texts
and practices that were produced before, in the tumult caused by, and in the
wake of, the most well-known and influential Asian and American martial
arts texts and practices that tore through the media and cultural landscape.
Simply put, my first questions were: ‘What happened in Britain?’ and ‘What
was seen, done, thought, and made here?’
That particular historical context has not been researched in this way before.
However, this book is not simply a work of history. There is certainly both
a strong sense of and a respect for chronology and causality within it. But it
8 Introduction
Some really important studies have emerged in recent years that do valu-
able myth-busting work in all kinds of national, cultural, and ideological con-
texts (Henning 1994; 1995; 1999; Wile 1996; Shahar 2008; Lorge 2012; Judkins
and Nielson 2015; Moenig 2015). Some of the scholars who are engaged in
myth busting are effectively at war with myth-promoting powers. Needless
to say, I entirely support myth-busting projects. However, this work is not ex-
actly that kind of text. It does something different. As valid and valuable as
the orientation is, myth busting is neither the sole nor the ultimate orienta-
tion that martial arts studies can or should seek to have. Challenging myths
and replacing them with historical facts may answer a need, redress a balance,
correct the record, take down some charlatans, and give practitioners a truer
sense of their place in larger historical, cultural, political, and ideological pro-
cesses. But an exclusive focus on myth busting will soon come to be limiting.
This is not to say that it is not important to put the word out there that some
of the most well-known ‘ancient’ martial arts emerged in their present forms
during the twentieth century. It is valuable to be aware that all styles of karate,
aikido, taekwondo, and Brazilian jiujitsu, for instance, are twentieth-century
inventions (Funakoshi 1975; Chan 2000; Moenig 2015). Even the avowedly
‘modern’ (late nineteenth-to early twentieth-century) martial art of judo is
actually older than many supposedly ancient martial arts. Similarly, what is
now known as either kung fu or wushu should properly be understood as a
modern construction (Kennedy 2010; Judkins 2014). Perhaps most surpris-
ingly, the ‘ancient’ art of taiji (AKA tai chi, taijiquan, or t’ai chi ch’üan) can
actually be understood as a nineteenth-century cultural and ideological re-
sponse to modernity (Wile 1996). This short list names merely some of the
most well-known martial arts.
Throughout this present work, I rely on many valuable studies that have
unearthed and examined the historical emergence, technical development,
and complex social and cultural situations of different martial arts. However,
I also seek to redress another balance and to show the importance and value
of other possible focuses, perspectives, and orientations within martial arts
studies and media studies. For, overwhelmingly, martial arts studies have
tended to focus on the specific practices, histories, and institutions of martial
arts themselves. This is hardly surprising. But I have always been suspicious of
the tacit assumption that wider cultural understandings of martial arts prac-
tices and cultures derive directly or solely from actual practices themselves.
Representations of those practices—and, before that, older ideas and fanta-
sies about exotic foreign cultures of origin—have circulated in different media
(from literature to journalism to film) and permeated or ‘pre-constituted’
the ways they are most likely to be understood (Krug 2001). So, my question
10 Introduction
has been: where do our ideas of martial arts actually come from? There are
many issues and factors to consider here, but the answer I put forward in this
work is as unequivocal as it is potentially controversial: they come from media
representations. It is for this reason that my contention has always been that
one of the primary fields of concern in any cultural, social, historical, eco-
nomic, philosophical, or even psychological study of martial arts should be all
manner of media.
Those who have read any of my works on martial arts may recall that I have
proposed such arguments before (Bowman 2014a; 2014b; 2015). I have made
them in my studies of cultural texts that I believed at the time of writing to
have been enormously culturally significant and consequential (Bowman
2010a; 2013a; 2017a). Of course, I am certainly not the only person to regard
the media representation of martial arts as primary and constitutive of our
sense of what specific martial arts ‘are’. But I have in the past received criticism
for my attention to mainstream media icons such as Bruce Lee (rather than
other, less mainstream figures) and also for my rarely modified operating as-
sumption that the term ‘martial arts’ principally connotes Asian martial arts
(Wetzler 2017). Furthermore, there remain significant numbers of scholars
who do not respect the status, work, role, and importance of media represen-
tations in the constitution, construction, or invention of martial arts. In one
respect, this present work seeks to justify, underpin, clarify, and develop all of
this more fully.
To be clear, the fundamental argument in play here is based in a rigorously
theorized understanding of the notion of representation, as has been carried
out in the fields of poststructuralism, critical theory, and cultural studies
for well over half a century. The short version of this perspective runs as fol-
lows: although we tend to think of representations either as reflecting reality,
or as being correct or incorrect, in actual fact, representations construct our
sense and understanding of reality (Hall et al 1997). So, although we tend to
think of representations as secondary and derivative, hence less important
than reality, they are in many respects and contexts our principal access to
‘reality’ (Silverman 1983). In other words, rather than the situation being one
of ‘reality versus representation’, it is rather the case that reality is a complex
construct made up principally of representations. Moreover, often these repre-
sentations are rarely of anything more or less real than other representations,
in a sea of representations.
Introduction 11
The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) has an entry for the noun ‘martial art’.
It reads:
Chiefly in plural. Any of various disciplines or sports, mainly of East Asian origin,
which arose as forms of self-defence or attack, such as judo, karate, kendo, kung fu,
and tae kwon do. [ . . . ] more generally: the fighting arts of the warrior. Frequently
attributive. Martial arts encompass both armed and unarmed forms of combat, as
well as non-combative styles. Though frequently practised for sport or exercise,
martial arts traditionally emphasize spiritual training and the unity of body and
mind. In the Japanese tradition, the seven martial arts are fencing, spearmanship,
archery, horse riding, ju-jitsu, the use of firearms, and military strategy; karate is
not considered one of the martial arts.
(Oxford English Dictionary n.d.)
The OED may well be, as it claims, ‘the definitive record of the English lan-
guage’, but sometimes what it includes—and what it omits—can be regarded
as problematic (Williams 1976). Because of this, scholars have sometimes cri-
tiqued the OED’s methods, orientations, selections, and approaches. In the
case of this definition of ‘martial art[s]’, many martial arts studies researchers
could certainly find grounds to contest the key claims that it makes, both in
terms of what is included in it and what is excluded from it (Lorge 2012, 9;
Judkins 2014, 5). However, my aim here is neither to rely on the OED, nor to
critique it. Rather, it is to draw attention to the significance both of something
that it includes and something that it omits.
We have already seen what it includes in the definition given above: ‘Any
of various disciplines or sports, mainly of East Asian origin, which arose as
forms of self-defence or attack, such as judo, karate, kendo, kung fu, and tae
kwon do.’ However, it notes that in the formal Japanese tradition, a modern
The Invention of Martial Arts. Paul Bowman, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197540336.001.0001.
Conceptual Foundations 13
practice like karate is ‘not considered one of the martial arts’. In this, the OED
tells us that whereas karate would remain excluded from the category ‘mar-
tial art’ in the strict terms of the formal tradition of the literal translation of
the Japanese ‘bugei’, it is nonetheless the case that karate is included in the
category ‘martial art’ in current English language usage. This is because in
English the term ‘martial art’ is a far looser, less literal, and more evocative: it
includes sports and self-defence—albeit, ‘mainly’ (the OED asserts) those ‘of
East Asian origin’.
Today, the idea that the term ‘martial arts’ is associated with practices that
are ‘mainly of East Asian origin’ is contentious. This is so, even though for-
mative works in the field of martial arts studies initially tended, more or less
explicitly, to accept the idea that the term ‘martial arts’ in the English language
evoked East Asian practices and traditions (Farrer and Whalen-Bridge 2011).
However, with the development of such fields and practices as Historical
European Martial Arts (HEMA) and the explosion of interest in the indige-
nous martial arts of all manner of countries, cultures, and geographical re-
gions, many would now contest the claim that the term ‘martial arts’ could,
or should, be said to refer to practices that are mainly of East Asian origin
(Wetzler 2017).
It is easy to agree with this claim. However, just as the OED does not seek
to impute fixed transhistorical values to the terms it nonetheless defines—
instead, basing its claims on a sense of their etymological, historical, and cul-
tural development and range of meanings—so it is not my intention to make
a transhistorical or logical argument about ‘martial arts’ really referring to a
far wider range of practices than those that are ‘mainly of East Asian origin’.
Rather, the more important point I want to make is that, despite the poten-
tially transcultural meanings and applicability of the term ‘martial arts’, when
it actually exploded into everyday usage in English, it really did refer to prac-
tices that were held to be mainly of East Asian origin (Bowman 2010a; Farrer
and Whalen-Bridge 2011; Bowman 2013a; 2015; 2017a).
The book you are currently reading details this development. Interestingly,
reading between the lines, this development is registered by the list of usage
examples that the OED gives for the noun ‘martial art’, which is as follows:
though the Japanese terminology has a far wider and more comprehensive
scope than its English equivalent, I may justly claim to know something. 1968
Clarendonian 22 270 Chinese Kung-fu is still taught today—but only as a Martial
Art to a very select, carefully chosen few. 1974 Isle of Wight County Press 23 Nov.
31 Mr. Singleton, who holds a Kendo black belt, a brown belt in Karate, and has
just taken up Ju-Jitsu, said he had no intention of ‘cashing in’ on the current mar-
tial arts boom. 1984 W. Boyd Stars & Bars i. iii. 31 There was a large padded mat
area for the martial arts enthusiasts. 1999 Spark (Reading University Students’
Union) 8 Mar. i. 16/1 As it is taught as an effective martial art, and not a sport, the
aim of the jiu jitsuka is not to fight within a set of rules, but to use any technique
necessary.
This list is illuminating in several ways, not least in terms of what is omitted
from it. For, in the first three examples (from 1920, 1933, and 1955), the uses
are taken from strictly Japanese contexts. The term ‘martial art’ is here a literal
translation. However, by the fourth and fifth entries on this list, things have
changed. The 1968 example tells us about kung fu, and that it is only taught
‘as’ a martial art to a ‘select few’. Then, the 1974 entry tells us that a certain Mr
Singleton has ‘no intention of “cashing in” on the current martial arts boom’.
In a tantalizing way, these two entries register and tell us about key changes in
the historical emergence and transformation of the term in English. It moves
out of a specialist niche in 1968 and into the mainstream of popular con-
sciousness by 1974. In this book, I argue that it does so precisely between 1968
and 1974. To use the stark clarity of the terms in the OED list: in 1968 ‘martial
art’ is a lived reality only to a ‘select few’. By 1974, there is a martial arts ‘boom’.
In other words, a very great deal changes in these years.
To be clear from the start: this is not to suggest that there were no martial
arts before the late 1960s and early 1970s. Nor it is to say that martial arts
must necessarily refer to practices that are ‘mainly of East Asian origin’. The ev-
idence of local histories the world over and the conclusions of logical thought
or speculation in its own right should lead us to the conclusion that primitive,
advanced, barbaric, civilized, tribal, military, paramilitary, dynastic, sectarian,
public, private, professional, police, criminal, hobbyist, interpersonal, and so
many other forms of combative practices (whether strictly or only metaphor-
ically ‘martial’) have been around—so to speak—forever (Lorge 2012; Desch-
Obi 2008; Shahar 2008; Wile 1999; T. Brown 1997). But my point is that it is
only with the boom of the late 1960s and early 1970s that martial arts emerged
as what should be termed a discursive entity, or identity in its current sense.
And that ‘sense’ was strongly associated with the idea—if not the reality—of
East Asian origins.
Conceptual Foundations 15
Concisely put, this work examines the ways that ‘martial arts’ has been in-
vented as a discursive entity via popular cultural representations. I use the
singular plural ‘martial arts has’ rather than ‘martial arts have’ because the
proposition here is that even though ‘martial arts’ evokes a plurality, it also
evokes one sort of thing, a culturally recognized field of practices (Lorge 2016,
16 The Invention of Martial Arts
904). In other words, whilst the world of martial arts practices is multiple,
heterogeneous, and often radically diverse, nonetheless, this plurality has en-
tered discourse as singular entity. The field, discourse, or formation is made up
of many instances, examples, utterances, texts, products, and practices. Each
of these is different, possibly even unique, but in current usage each shares
enough in common with the others to be recognizable as part of that identity.
There may be no universally, necessary, ineluctable, or objective reason why
disparate practices should be grouped together within the category ‘martial
arts’; but simply because currently they are, they can therefore be regarded as
part of this discursive category or identity.
Carrying out stretches before early morning taiji or qigong in the park,
kneeling in seiza in a ‘dojo’ (a dojo that is at other times a community centre,
meeting room, or school gym), jumping rope (or skipping) to build stamina
for sparring, and myriad other practices can all—in the context of today’s lin-
guistic and conceptual usage—be regarded as martial arts activities. They are
neither always nor essentially martial arts activities, but they are sometimes.
Stretching is not always a martial art activity, nor is kneeling, nor is skipping,
nor even is the physical space that may from time to time be called a dojo,
dojang, class, club, or kwoon (Bowman 2019a). A famous Zen koan runs like
this: ‘What happens to my fist when I open my hand?’ We might create our
own koan by posing the question, ‘What happens to my dojo when we go out
and the basketball club comes in?’; ‘What were martial arts before they were
named?’; or ‘What happens to the notion of martial arts we have in our minds
when we open it up to analysis?’
To use the terms of discourse theory, martial arts may well be a floating sig-
nifier, whose meaning is to some extent always in the post and potentially up
for grabs (Laclau 1996). But it is also what Ernesto Laclau (following Jacques
Lacan) called a ‘point de capiton’: a kind of fixed point, one that structures dis-
course (Laclau and Mouffe 1985). It has been created and constructed in dis-
course (like many other terms, such as ‘air quality’, for instance: Barry 2001),
but now that it exists, it gains a weight that actually comes to structure elem-
ents of discourse.
As my use of these terms and arguments suggests, my approach to this
matter owes a debt to discourse theory.1 However, like the discourses that
1 To be specific, originally the theory of Laclau and Mouffe, as seen in their book Hegemony and Socialist
Strategy (Laclau and Mouffe 1985). However, my reading of this was modified by Mowitt’s critique of ‘dis-
course’ in Text: The Genealogy of an Antidisciplinary Object (Mowitt 1992). I deal at length with my un-
derstanding of ‘discourse’ in my own books, Post-Marxism versus Cultural Studies (Bowman 2007a) and
Deconstructing Popular Culture (Bowman 2008). All of my writings are infused with this post-structuralist
concept or paradigm.
Conceptual Foundations 17
2 Key poststructuralists such as Derrida and Spivak have both discussed the ‘irreducible metaphoricity’
of notions such as ‘structure’ and ‘discourse’. For an accessible discussion, see Hall (1992).
18 The Invention of Martial Arts
Martial arts historian Joseph Svinth has pointed out the difficulty of finding
reliable search terms when trying to get a sense of the historical develop-
ment and changes in martial arts discourse, in different places. Even if we
are looking only at ‘the British context’, Svinth notes,4 there are actually sev-
eral of these (there is the United Kingdom, and Northern Ireland, then pre-
separation, Commonwealth, and so on); and there are different terms and
different uses of related terms in different places, such as Australia, Canada,
and New Zealand. Svinth himself has widely researched British newspapers,
looking into such matters as the reporting of boxing deaths. Hence, he notes
that historically the word ‘boxing’ can mean ‘a box for your lunch, a slap to the
3 This is why certain schools of discourse analysis disavow any debt to deconstruction, and even de-
nounce it, claiming that you can’t do discourse studies using deconstruction (for a discussion, see
Akerstrøm Andersen 2003). As certain radical or deconstructive discourse theorists used to say: this is
because deconstruction is a condition of possibility for discourse analysis that is by the same token a condi-
tion of its impossibility. Hence the problems.
4 All quotations from Svinth are from email communication in June 2017.
Conceptual Foundations 19
ears, a brawl at the pub, or a betting occasion outside of town. The Americans
are worse’, he adds: synonyms for boxer ‘include bully, shoulder-hitter, pugi-
list, pug’, and more. ‘And even in Britain, during mid-Victorian times, the pa-
pers sometimes made the distinction between bare-knuckle boxers and glove
fighters.’
Consequently, Svinth recommends that to establish anything about the an-
cestral terms and practices preceding today’s ‘martial arts’, one should search
databases such as newspaper archives using terms that would be ‘very po-
litically incorrect’ today. ‘For instance’, he suggests, ‘search “Jap wrestling”,
“Chinamen AND boxing”, “Hindoo AND stick fighting”, and so on’. Political
incorrectness in search terms must be embraced—as he notes, ‘Jack Johnson
was not described in kind terms in the sporting press of 1910.’ In addition,
Svinth points out, old martial arts stories may be organized by terms as di-
verse as ‘old Samurai art’, ‘antagonistics’, or ‘assaults-at-arms’. In the 1920s,
terms like ‘all-in fighting’ and ‘dirty fighting’ emerged, along with ‘commando
tactics’. ‘Judo’ was also as likely to mean ‘dirty fighting’ as Kodokan judo. ‘Then
as now’, writes Svinth:
the distinction between theatrical and practical use was often not remarked.
Thus, you’ll see Chinese street entertainers and sword dancers, Indian dacoit
and fakirs, Turkish strongmen, and so on, all doing what we’d today call ‘martial
art’, but were then viewed as curios . . . [Similarly] circus and music hall [has long
been] a place to look for feats of swordsmanship, archery, stick fighting, and so
on. The British booth fighters and the Australian tent fighters are straight out of
this tradition.
Discontinuity
History Again
This work is interested in history only to the extent that it seeks to find the
historical ingredients that have gone into the formation and the makings of
the present discursive conjuncture—the period in which we can use the term
‘martial arts’ in the English language and simply assume that our interlocutors
will immediately or ‘intuitively’ grasp what is being evoked. This kind of ‘intu-
itive’ knowledge is not a matter of individual psychology; it is rather an index
of the frequency of occurrence (what Foucault often referred to as the ‘reg-
ularity in dispersion’) and hence the cultural familiarity of a term. Research
suggests that, although the people we now so easily call martial artists had
been using the term ‘martial arts’ for some time, and although it had also been
used in the distant historical past to refer to any of the arts and skills of the
battlefield, in actual fact, in the British media and cultural context, the term
Conceptual Foundations 23
British popular culture. They offer some commentary and analysis, with the
overarching aim of identifying patterns, styles, aesthetics, conventions, and
clichés in the representation of martial arts, and locating the key contours, co-
ordinates, or ‘colour palette’ of the discursive constellation—or range of ways
of representing (and hence ‘ways of seeing’) martial arts in popular culture.
While I did not want to devote this entire book to the setting out of a histor-
ical narrative, I have structured much of it in terms of historical chronology.
This is because I believe this to be an important first step for developing
our understanding of the invention of martial arts within popular culture.
Research into and the establishment of academic knowledge of martial arts
in popular culture (especially in the British context) has until now been sorely
lacking. This means that, although the narrative I set out is provisional, inev-
itably incomplete, and really only a framework to be used to help construct a
sense of the range of meanings and values placed on martial arts in the current
era, the elaboration of a narrative history of martial arts in British popular
culture is long overdue. My hope is that what I have done in the historical di-
mensions of each chapter can either be further fleshed out and extended by
subsequent studies, or contested, critiqued, challenged, or reinterpreted. The
‘history’ I set out is a preliminary mapping that seeks to indicate innovations,
patterns, tendencies, and regularities, in the spectrum or constellation of de-
pictions of martial arts.
Closing Caveats
such texts (in cinemas) before. The internet may have begun to become avail-
able through the 1990s, but YouTube was not founded until 2005. Thanks to
the internet and platforms like YouTube, ever more texts, aspects, ideas, and
elements of ‘martial arts’ culture and discourse continually become available
to more and more people, in no predetermined order and with no predeter-
mined ‘canon’, sequence, hierarchy, or filter. This terrain is in its own way the
deconstruction of linear history.
Another caveat relates to the notion of disjunction. We must remember
that pre-existing ways of representing martial arts may or may not influence
the construction of new representations. They may influence, but they cer-
tainly do not determine them. Representations can be complex constructions
that take inspiration and material from multiple and heterogeneous contexts.
Like all kinds of identities in the postmodern world (Jameson 1991), elements
are ‘poached’ (Jenkins 1992) from many different places and they are (re)as-
sembled into something new through processes of ‘bricolage’ (Certeau 1984;
1997). And this happens in no particular order.
Furthermore, there is no simple way of objectively measuring the ‘influ-
ence’ or ‘effects’ of any given text or event. One could undertake any of many
kinds of audience research to try to establish the influence and effects of given
films, books, or programmes; or one might carry out comparative analyses
of the intertextual communications, relays, and referrals between and across
texts, in order to establish a sense of the effect of one text on the production
landscape; and so on. All approaches have value, but no single approach is
completely compelling.
This present work tends to follow the intertextual approach. Texts are ex-
plored and related to each other in terms of reflections upon their similar-
ities and differences. I have neither undertaken any formal research that asks
those involved in the production of texts about their decisions, nor any audi-
ence research that asks viewers, listeners, or readers what they make of, feel
about, value, or do with the texts they experience. This is not to say I have not
made enquiries or discussed any of this with people. On the contrary, in my
own ongoing formal and informal research into martial arts in popular cul-
ture, I have regularly over the years asked people about which martial arts
texts (films, books, cartoons, games, etc.) they have most enjoyed and which
they think may have had most influence or impact on them. What I have been
most surprised by is how few texts are mentioned and credited with having
left an enduring impression on people from all over the world. The texts that
are most mentioned actually amount to a rather short list of internationally
famous Hollywood, Hong Kong, and Japanese films, television programmes,
and computer games.
26 The Invention of Martial Arts
This may beg the question of the value of a wider exploration of the ‘non-
canonical’, marginal, unknown, or obscure martial arts texts of popular
culture. Obviously, we should be aware of the significance and effects of an al-
most universally agreed ‘canon’ of core texts. But that does not mean that non-
canonical, marginal works are of no importance. As has been shown in studies
that have challenged, deconstructed, critiqued, and expanded the canons of
‘great works’ or ‘great thinkers’ that for a long time structured such fields as the
study of literature and philosophy, there are huge problems associated with
regarding the movement of literary production or philosophical thought in
terms of a kind of baton-passing process from one Great Mind (normally that
of a white man) to the next Great (white, male) Mind. This is a value-driven
and value-reinforcing approach, often based on a simplistic conception of de-
velopment, one that actively serves to exclude or downgrade the status not
only of alternatives (women, say, or non-white men) but also the reality of
multiplicity, heterogeneity, and complexity.
Nonetheless, it is clear that mass media texts have mass (or ‘massifying’)
effects. Throughout the twentieth century, more and more people in more
and more parts of the world became more likely and more able to encounter
the same texts: big budget movies became increasingly transnational; televi-
sion series were internationally disseminated; computer games were sold in-
creasingly globally. Indeed, it deserves to be noted that it was a martial arts
film—the nostalgic millennial Chinese martial arts (wuxia) film, Crouching
Tiger, Hidden Dragon (Lee 2000)—that is widely regarded as a landmark mile-
stone in the becoming transnational of film and of hitherto ‘regional’ film in-
dustries (Eperjesi 2004; Wang 2005). Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was an
early transnational film that presaged many changes in the shape of things
to come. The same can be said for computer games, TV show formats, and
other kinds of ‘massifying’ media that enable (or oblige) people to encounter
the same images, texts, and activities, transnationally. Conversely, of course,
with the emergence of the internet, and the fragmentation and exponential
expansion of modes and materials of consumption/interaction, many forms
of ‘massification’ have begun to be eroded and transformed. So, forces push
and pull in contrary directions at the same time.
In what follows, I have given some attention to many of the most well-known
and frequently referenced mass media texts from both Asia and America, as
well as to various (often lesser-known or less frequently mentioned) texts pro-
duced or circulating in the British context. Big films, computer games, and
certain television programmes, books, and magazines produced in the United
States or Asia are of necessity included, simply because to exclude them would
be to paint an obviously distorted picture of martial arts in the British context.
Conceptual Foundations 27
However, my sense is that it is important not to overlook the fact that many
minor or obscure texts still happened, even if they may have been all but for-
gotten. My account tries to capture both ends of this spectrum (the widely
remembered and the largely forgotten), even though the aim was not to find,
catalogue, and list every martial arts film, book, programme, magazine, ad-
vert, or news story that ever happened in the world, nor even in the United
Kingdom. It was rather to get a clearer sense, based on textual evidence, of
the landscape of media and cultural martial arts texts in the United Kingdom
throughout the twentieth and into the early twenty-first century, in order to
sketch out some of the coordinates, contours, and features of martial arts as
they have been constructed in media and popular cultural texts. However,
even though ‘martial arts’ as we know the entity arguably caught on and took
off thanks to film in the early 1970s, it was not born of nothing. The question
is, what ingredients coalesced into ‘martial arts’?
Chapter 2, ‘Modernity, Media and Martial Arts: From Beginning at the Origin
to the Origin of the Beginning’, poses the question of when and where the
analysis of the discursive entity ‘martial arts’ should begin. In exploring this,
the chapter notes the prominence of origin stories in traditionalist martial
arts, and interrogates their roles and functions. This leads to a discussion of
what Rey Chow called ‘primitive passions’ in a deracinated, postmodern, and
postcolonial world. All of this prompts a critique of a current popular and ac-
ademic orientation that the chapter diagnoses as a widespread fixation, which
it calls the ‘origin destination’.
What is meant by the oxymoronic term ‘origin destination’ is the elevation
of the status of the origin to such an extent that it becomes the principal in-
terest of the academic work. Rather than fixate on mythologized origins in this
way, the chapter proposes alternative ways to engage with history. It does so by
way of a discussion of the famous case of a late Victorian combat system called
Bartitsu, made famous by a brief mention in a Sherlock Holmes novel and also
by the fact that it was taught to women who would go on to become important
figures in the Suffragette movement. This example is important not only be-
cause it shines light on the emergence of interest in self-defence in contexts of
emergent urban modernity, but also because the recent resurgence of interest
in Bartitsu casts light on the contemporary postmodern desire for roots.
After reflecting on the convulsions and tectonic shifts in attitudes and ap-
proaches to interpersonal combat caused by the horrors of the First World
28 The Invention of Martial Arts
War, Chapter 3 explores the movements of ‘Martial Arts into Media Culture’.
This chapter covers the emergence of different kinds of comic (from war
comics to Marvel) which feature impressive feats of combat, and the early ap-
pearance of arts such as judo and karate in various media. It analyses memo-
rable media moments, such as the influential TV series The Avengers and the
long-running series of adverts for the aftershave ‘Hai Karate’, before opening
out into the discursive explosion of martial arts texts in the 1970s.
Key among influential texts in the movement of martial arts texts into pop-
ular consciousness is the 1974 international hit disco song, ‘Kung Fu Fighting’
by Carl Douglas. Curiously, despite the significance and status of this song
(both in terms of the emergence of disco and martial arts), remarkably little
serious academic attention has ever been given to it—even within books and
articles that use its instantly recognizable lyrics as part of their own titles.
Chapter 4, ‘Everybody Was Kung Fu Citing: Inventing Popular Martial Arts
Aesthetics’ seeks to redress this historical oversight. The chapter consists of a
sustained close reading of this song, focusing on its lyrics, its aural and visual
semiotics, its intertextual relations with other sound effects and songs, and
some controversial instances of its reiteration and redeployment in different
cultural contexts. Following the main questions that arise about this song
in journalistic contexts, news stories, and conversations online, the chapter
poses the well-worn question, ‘Is it racist?’ In doing so, the chapter enters into
debates about orientalism, ethnic stereotyping, and cultural appropriation,
but does so in a way that recasts the orientations of these debates, away from
moralism and judgmentalism and towards questions of interest, desire, in-
vestment in, and involvement or encounters with ‘other cultures’.
As mentioned, any attempt to construct a linear history of martial arts in
media and popular culture as it exploded after the 1970s cannot but fail. The
sheer proliferation of martial arts images, themes, texts, and practices pre-
cludes easy linear narrativization. Accordingly, Chapter 5 argues for the need
to move ‘From Linear History to Discursive Constellation’ in our approach
to martial arts in media and popular culture. The chapter attempts to estab-
lish the main discursive contours that appeared and developed through the
1980s—a decade in which ninjas and Shaolin monks explode onto the cultural
landscape. This is followed by attention to the 1990s, in which three major
events took place in the same year: the first Ultimate Fighting Championship
(UFC), the Wu-Tang Clan’s release of their enormously popular album, ‘Enter
the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)’, and the appearance on children’s television
screens around the world of ‘The Power Rangers’—all of which took place in
1993. The chapter then attempts to track the major discursive tendencies and
Conceptual Foundations 29
contours of martial arts aesthetics through the first decade of the twenty-first
century, up to the mainstreaming of combat sports in more recent years.
Having taken the time to identify several discursive regularities and recur-
ring motifs in martial arts imagery, Chapter 6 ‘The Meaning of Martial Arts’
moves further into delineating a discursive constellation. This chapter com-
bines a deeper theorization of the discursive entity of martial arts as a floating
signifier with a study of martial arts in the British national press and a dis-
cussion of the cacophony of images of martial arts in recent media history. In
further clarifying the shifting and variable status of martial arts in anglophone
contexts, the chapter reflects on its similarities and differences in terms of a
consideration of the range of terms used for Chinese martial arts. It argues
that all of these reflect different cultural and political interests, and turns to
reflect on what it terms the narrative arc of appropriation in martial arts. The
chapter closes on a discussion of martial arts and issues in gender and femi-
nism, before returning to the fragmented and fragmentary character of en-
counters with and representations of martial arts.
Chapter 7 picks up the idea of the fragmentariness of contemporary
media culture in examining martial arts in music videos. Called ‘I Want My
TKD: Martial Arts in Music Videos’, this chapter is a wide-ranging survey
of pop, hip-hop and rock videos. (‘TKD’ is a common abbreviation of
‘taekwondo’, a martial art known for its spectacular kicks.) The chapter begins
with a discussion of the historical emergence of music videos as a powerful
player in international popular culture with the appearance of MTV, before
moving into an analysis of the earliest music videos to feature martial arts—
several of which were, interestingly, parodic, comic, novelty, or eccentric rap
songs, performed by white artists. Later texts demonstrate chaotic relation-
ships with and (mis)understandings of Asian countries and cultures. Once
again, ninjas feature prominently. The chapter argues that martial arts themes
are particularly significant in progressive rap and hip-hop music videos, while
in pop and rock videos martial arts are often treated as comic. Martial arti-
ness also features in videos that involve what might be called ‘sci-feminism’,
as well as in the postmodern genre that might be called the Eastern Space
Western. On the other hand, regressive representations of martial arts also
feature in some large-budget mainstream pop, rap, and RnB music, such
as recent videos by Nicki Minaj, Coldplay-featuring-Rihanna, and others.
Overall, the chapter argues that martial arts are appealing material for visual
texts like music videos because they showcase the body in fascinating mo-
tion, and it concludes with a discussion of the blurred lines between martial
arts like capoeira and music video staples like breakdancing—both of whose
30 The Invention of Martial Arts
media, cultural, and martial arts studies. This is a task that requires atten-
tion not just to local, physical, embodied, or ‘concrete’ contexts and prac-
tices ‘proper’, but one that must also take seriously the places and functions
of transnational media culture, and subjects and objects of discourse and of
study across all manner of media, medium, and cultural text and context.
After all of this, the book closes with a concluding reflection on the ground
that has been covered and the ground that remains to be covered. Martial arts
‘is’ or ‘are’ a comparatively recent invention, whose transformations and re-
inventions have already been profound. The final question is what remains
to happen ‘after the invention’. But first, we must establish a beginning from
which to start.
2
Modernity, Media, and Martial Arts
From Beginning at the Origin to the Origin
of the Beginning
This chapter poses the question of when and where the analysis of the discur-
sive entity ‘martial arts’ should begin. In broaching this, we first interrogate
the role and function of origin stories in traditionalist martial arts, leading to
a discussion of what Rey Chow called the ‘primitive passions’ that emerge in
our deracinated, postmodern, and postcolonial world. All of this prompts a
critique of a current popular and academic orientation that the chapter diag-
noses as a widespread fixation on what it calls the ‘origin destination’. What
is meant by the oxymoronic term ‘origin destination’ is the elevation of the
status of the origin to such an extent that it becomes the principal interest of
the scholarly work. Rather than fixate on mythologized origins in this way, the
chapter proposes alternative ways to engage with martial arts history. It does
so by way of a discussion of the famous case of a late Victorian combat system
called Bartitsu, made famous by a brief mention in a Sherlock Holmes novel
and also by the fact that it was taught to women who would go on to become
important figures in the Suffragette movement. This example is important
not only because it shines light on the emergence of interest in self-defence in
contexts of emergent urban modernity, but also because the recent resurgence
of interest in Bartitsu casts further light on the contemporary postmodern de-
sire for roots.
Origin Stories
To begin at the beginning: Chinese martial arts are often believed to have
their origins in the Shaolin Temple. However, they do not. Some are said to
have originated in a second Shaolin Temple. This did not exist. These original
martial arts are said to have spread after one or the other temple was burned
down and the surviving monks were scattered to the winds. This, of course,
could not have happened. The transmission of what became various styles
is believed to have derived from these legendary figures, many of whom did
The Invention of Martial Arts. Paul Bowman, Oxford University Press (2021). © Oxford University Press.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197540336.001.0001.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
THE OLD STORY.
There is without doubt a large criminal and semi-criminal class
among colored people. This is but another way of saying that the
social uplift of a group of freedmen is a serious task. But it is also
true, and painfully true, that the crime imputed carelessly and
recklessly against colored people gives an impression of far greater
criminality than the facts warrant.
Take, for instance, a typical case: A little innocent schoolgirl is
brutally murdered in New Jersey. A Negro vagabond is arrested.
Immediately the news is heralded from East to West, from North to
South, in Europe and Asia, of the crime of this black murderer.
Immediately a frenzied, hysterical mob gathers and attempts to
lynch the poor wretch. He is spirited away and the public is almost
sorry that he has escaped summary justice. Without counsel or
friends, the man is shut up in prison and tortured to make him
confess. “They did pretty near everything to me except kill me,”
whispered the wretched man to the first friend he saw.
Finally, after the whole black race in America had suffered
aspersion for several weeks, sense begins to dawn in Jersey. After all,
what proof was there against this man? He was lazy, he had been in
jail for alleged theft from gypsies, he was good natured, and he drank
whiskey. That was all. Yet he stayed in jail under no charge and
under universal censure. The coroner’s jury found no evidence to
indict him. Still he lay in jail. Finally the National Association for the
Advancement of Colored People stepped in and said, “What are you
holding this man for?” The Public Prosecutor got red in the face and
vociferated. Then he went downtown, and when the habeas corpus
proceedings came and the judge asked again: “Why are you holding
this man?” the prosecutor said chirpily, “For violating election laws,”
and brought a mass of testimony. Then the judge discharged the
prisoner from the murder charge and congratulated the National
Association for the Advancement of Colored People—but the man is
still in jail.
Such justice is outrageous and such methods disgraceful. Black
folk are willing to shoulder their own sins, but the difference between
a vagabond and a murderer is too tremendous to be lightly ignored.
“SOCIAL EQUALITY.”
At last we have a definition of the very elusive phrase “Social
Equality” as applied to the Negro problem. In stating their grievances
colored people have recently specified these points:
1. Disfranchisement, even of educated Negroes.
2. Curtailment of common school training.
3. Confinement to “Ghettos.”
4. Discrimination in wages.
5. Confinement to menial employment.
6. Systematic insult of their women.
7. Lynching and miscarriage of justice.
8. Refusal to recognize fitness “in political or industrial life.”
9. Personal discourtesy.
Southern papers in Charlotte, Richmond, New Orleans and
Nashville have with singular unanimity hastened to call this
complaint an unequivocal demand for “social equality,” and as such
absolutely inadmissible. We are glad to have a frank definition,
because we have always suspected this smooth phrase. We
recommend on this showing that hereafter colored men who hasten
to disavow any desire for “social equality” should carefully read the
above list of disabilities which social inequality would seem to
prescribe.
ASHAMED.
Any colored man who complains of the treatment he receives in
America is apt to be faced sooner or later by the statement that he is
ashamed of his race.
The statement usually strikes him as a most astounding piece of
illogical reasoning, to which a hot reply is appropriate.
And yet notice the curious logic of the persons who say such
things. They argue:
White men alone are men. This Negro wants to be a man. Ergo he
wants to be a white man.
Their attention is drawn to the efforts of colored people to be
treated decently. This minor premise therefore attracts them. But the
major premise—the question as to treating black men like white men
—never enters their heads, nor can they conceive it entering the
black man’s head. If he wants to be a man he must want to be white,
and therefore it is with peculiar complacency that a Tennessee paper
says of a dark champion of Negro equality: “He bitterly resents his
Negro blood.”
Not so, O Blind Man. He bitterly resents your treatment of Negro
blood. The prouder he is, or has a right to be, of the blood of his black
fathers, the more doggedly he resists the attempt to load men of that
blood with ignominy and chains. It is race pride that fights for
freedom; it is the man ashamed of his blood who weakly submits and
smiles.
JESUS CHRIST IN BALTIMORE.
It seems that it is not only Property that is screaming with fright at
the Black Spectre in Baltimore, but Religion also. Two churches
founded in the name of Him who “put down the mighty from their
seats and exalted them of low degree” are compelled to move. Their
palatial edifices filled with marble memorials and Tiffany windows
are quite useless for the purposes of their religion since black folk
settled next door. Incontinently they have dropped their Bibles and
gathered up their priestly robes and fled, after selling their property
to colored people for $125,000 in good, cold cash.
Where are they going? Uptown. Up to the wealthy and exclusive
and socially select. There they will establish their little gods again,
and learned prelates with sonorous voices will ask the echoing pews:
“How can the Church reach the working man?”
Why not ask the working man? Why not ask black people, and
yellow people, and poor people, and all the people from whom such
congregations flee in holy terror? The church that does not run from
the lowly finds the lowly at its doors, and there are some such
churches in the land, but we fear that their number in Baltimore is
not as great as should be.
“EXCEPT SERVANTS.”
The noticeable reservation in all attempts, North and South, to
separate black folk and white is the saving phrase, “Except servants.”
Are not servants colored? Is the objection, then, to colored people
or to colored people who are not servants? In other words, is this
race prejudice inborn antipathy or a social and economic caste?
SOCIAL CONTROL
I always find it very difficult to write upon the great race problem
which we have in America. I think, on the whole, that the most
satisfactory books on the subject are written by people outside of
America. This is certainly true of two books, “White Capital and
Black Labor,” by the Governor of Jamaica, and William Archer’s
book entitled “Afro-America.” Although the latter is inconclusive, it
at least gives one the impression that the man who has written it has
seen clearly into the situation, and that, I suppose, is what it is very
difficult for any American to do.
One thing, however, is clear to all of us, that not only in the South,
but everywhere in America, a strong race antagonism is asserting
itself, which has various modes of lawless and insolent expression.
The contemptuous attitude of the so-called superior race toward the
inferior results in a social segregation of each race, and puts the one
race group thus segregated quite outside the influences of social
control represented by the other. Those inherited resources of the
race embodied in custom and kindly intercourse which make much
more for social restraint than does legal enactment itself are thus
made operative only upon the group which has inherited them, and
the newer group which needs them most is practically left without.
Thus in every large city we have a colony of colored people who have
not been brought under social control, and a majority of the white
people in the same community are tacitly endeavoring to keep from
them those restraints which can be communicated only through
social intercourse. One could easily illustrate this lack of inherited
control by comparing the experiences of a group of colored girls with
those of a group representing the daughters of Italian immigrants, or
of any other South European peoples. The Italian girls very much
enjoy the novelty of factory work, the opportunity to earn money and
to dress as Americans do, but this new freedom of theirs is carefully
guarded. Their mothers seldom give them permission to go to a party
in the evening, and never without chaperonage. Their fathers
consider it a point of honor that their daughters shall not be alone on
the streets after dark. The daughter of the humblest Italian receives
this care because her parents are but carrying out social traditions. A
group of colored girls, on the other hand, are quite without this
protection. If they yield more easily to the temptations of a city than
any other girls, who shall say how far the lack of social restraint is
responsible for their downfall? The Italian parents represent the
social traditions which have been worked out during centuries of
civilization, and which often become a deterrent to progress through
the very bigotry with which they cling to them; nevertheless, it is
largely through these customs and manners that new groups are
assimilated into civilization.
Added to this is the fact that a decent colored family, if it is also
poor, often finds it difficult to rent a house save one that is
undesirable, because situated near a red-light district, and the family
in the community least equipped with social tradition is forced to
expose its daughters to the most flagrantly immoral conditions the
community permits. This is but one of the many examples of the
harmful effects of race segregation which might be instanced.
Another result of race antagonism is the readiness to irritation
which in time characterizes the intercourse of the two races. We
stupidly force one race to demand as a right from the other those
things which should be accorded as a courtesy, and every meeting
between representatives of the two races is easily characterized by
insolence and arrogance. To the friction of city life, and the
complications of modern intercourse, is added this primitive race
animosity which should long since have been outgrown. When the
white people in a city are tacitly leagued against the colored people
within its borders, the result is sure to be disastrous, but there are
still graver dangers in permitting the primitive instinct to survive
and to become self-assertive. When race antagonism manifests itself
through lynching, it defiantly insists that it is superior to all those
laws which have been gradually evolved during thousands of years,
and which form at once the record and the instrument of civilization.
The fact that this race antagonism enables the men acting under its
impulsion to justify themselves in their lawlessness constitutes the
great danger of the situation. The men claim that they are executing
a primitive retribution which precedes all law, and in this belief they
put themselves in a position where they cannot be reasoned with,
although this dangerous manifestation must constantly be reckoned
with as a deterrent to progress and a menace to orderly living.
Moreover, this race antagonism is very close to the one thing in
human relations which is uglier than itself, namely, sex antagonism,
and in every defense made in its behalf an appeal to the latter
antagonism is closely interwoven. Many men in every community
justify violence when it is committed under the impulsion of these
two antagonisms, and others carelessly assert that great laws of
human intercourse, first and foremost founded upon justice and
right relations between man and man, should thus be disregarded
and destroyed.
If the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People
will soberly take up every flagrant case of lawbreaking, and if it allow
no withdrawal of constitutional rights to pass unchallenged, it will
perform a most useful service to America and for the advancement of
all its citizens. Many other opportunities may be open in time to such
an association, but is not this its first and most obvious obligation?
THE TEACHER.
Total 2,425
3. Estimated.
4. Estimated to date.
In Wilcox County Ala., there are 10,758 Negro children and 2,000
white children of school age, making a total population of 12,758.
The per capita allowance for each child in the State this year is $2.56.
According to the recent apportionment of the school fund on this
basis, Wilcox County receives $32,660.48. Of this amount the 10,758
Negro children have been allowed one-fifth, or $6,532.09, about 60
cents each, while the 2,000 white children receive the remaining
four-fifths, or $26,128.39, about $13 each. Further investigation
shows that only 1,000 of the 10,758 Negro children are in school,
leaving 6,758 with absolutely no provision for obtaining even a
common school education.
TALKS ABOUT WOMEN