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Fist of fury
By SIMONE ROSENZWEIG
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On a recent Friday morning, the basketball court in Sacher
Park is overrun by a group of men in black pants, Oriental jackets, and thick
cloth martial arts belts. With intense concentration, they move through a series
of stances before embarking on a complicated dance of blocks, punches, and
kicks. Their sensei, barking orders from the side, has tzitzit poking out from
under his uniform, and all of the men wear kippot.
Suddenly, two men in face masks and upper-body protective
shields step into the middle of the ring and begin fighting - ducking, blocking,
kicking, and punching. A class of elementary schoolchildren gathers to watch and
cheer them on. The fight ends almost as quickly as it began. The two men take
off their masks and slap one another good-naturedly on the back.
The amiable combatants are practitioners of Ryukyu Kenpo
Kobujutsu, a form of martial arts that originated on the island of Okinawa more
than 2,000 years ago. The journey of Ryukyu Kenpo from Okinawa to Israel took
centuries and was completed in 1987, when Sensei D'veed Natan, one of the
discipline's highest ranking members, made aliya, bringing the art with him.
Natan, a ninth-degree black-belt, is a native of Kansas City,
Missouri. He began studying martial arts at the age of 11, as part of the
curriculum at the American military academy he attended. When the lessons ended,
Natan continued studying on his own, eventually training with masters from Korea
and Japan.
After serving for several years with the US military, Natan
returned to the US, where he opened his own Dojo, a school for martial arts. It
was then that he became interested in Judaism. Natan's rabbi suggested he move
to Israel and Natan followed his advice. Here he established Jerusalem as a
world-renowned center of Ryukyu Kenpo training, and his students have
represented Israel at the annual Ryukyu Kenpo conventions held around the world.
This past May, two of Natan's students, Tzedek Gilmore, now a
Ryukyu Kenpo instructor himself, and 13-year-old Tuvie Hagler, accompanied him
to Sweden for the World Martial Arts Society's annual convention, where they
spent three days training with the world's top teachers, Natan among them. When
convention activities coincided with Shabbat, both Natan and his students sat
out.
Most of the 30 students who train in Jerusalem are religious
and many have been with Natan for years. There are students who drive from as
far as Petah Tikva and Eli to attend Tuesday-night black-belt class, held at the
Fanny Kaplan Community Center in the Neveh Shmuel neighborhood.
Black-belt Boaz Steigman, who has been with Natan since 1997,
now teaches Ryukyu Kenpo himself. Steigman says that when he was deciding where
to attend university, one of the major factors that influenced his decision to
choose a school in Jerusalem was that only here could he continue his Ryukyu
Kenpo studies.
"I started taking Karate when I was six-years-old. When I was
in the army I saw an article about D'veed and came to see a group session. I
started taking private classes with D'veed Natan and it was like moving from
elementary school to university. Sensei Natan had a deeper understanding of the
movements than my Karate teachers and he could answer all my questions. That
made me stick with him," Steigman explains.
Steigman, like most of the loyal students, is an Orthodox
Jew, but he sees no contradiction between his level of observance and his
participation in a martial art.
"We don't teach violence, we teach how to avoid it," says
Steigman. "In the more haredi communities there are more stigmas against martial
arts than against other forms of exercise. Since martial arts come from the
Orient, some people automatically connect them with avoda zara [idol worship].
Most of the time this is not the case, especially with Ryukyu Kenpo.
"Ryukyu Kenpo comes from Okinawa, where it was taught to the
warrior class. It simply taught them to fight and had nothing to do with
religion, unlike martial arts from Japan and Korea, which may be more
religion-based."
Steigman goes on to explain that Sensei Natan was careful to
remove anything from the training process that might be considered problematic
from a Jewish perspective. For example, Natan's students do not bow to pictures,
nor do they bow to their sensei, a practice common in martial arts training.
Says Natan, "Judaism and martial arts work hand in glove.
They are one and the same thing. It's one of the 70 faces of Torah. The moral
principles underlying what we do are Torah principles."
"I always enjoyed martial arts," says student Yehiel Perkal,
an orange- belt who also happens to be a Bostoner Hassid and comes to practice
in the black coat and hat of his sect. "I walked into a gym where Sensei Natan
was teaching and saw that he knows what he's doing and knows how to teach, so I
came back. The Ramban says that it is very important to take care of your health
and this is taking care of it."
The link between Ryukyu Kenpo and Judaism is one of the
factors that led Ram Bavi, dorm director and head of after-school programming at
the Or Etzion High School, a boarding school for religious boys near the
southern development town of Kiryat Malachi, to introduce Ryukyu Kenpo there.
Bavi, who studied with Natan at Jerusalem's Netiv Meir Yeshiva in the early
1990s, found that Ryukyu Kenpo "had a lot of connections to Judaism. You have
the concept of repentance in Ryukyu Kenpo. Usually in self-defense classes you
give your opponent no chance. In Ryukyu Kenpo you give him the opportunity to
repent his actions. It's positive and educational."
The club was such a success that Ryukyu Kenpo will be an
official part of Or Etzion's curriculum next year, with classes twice a week for
an hour and a half each.
"The head of the yeshiva saw what I was teaching and liked
it. He wanted it to be a part of the regular school program because of what it
does for the boys," Natan explains. "I do have one of the most violent
self-defense systems on the planet, but if I was just telling people to beat
each other up, no one would come. I do all the things a mother wants. I teach
her child to be a competent individual, to have self-confidence. I give them the
ability to weather the storm without having to resort to violence."
Although Natan is constantly stressing the benefits of Ryukyu
Kenpo, he does admit that his students are self-selecting. "It hurts to do what
we do," he says. "With me it's not happy-happy good times. You're going to learn
self defense and it's going to be difficult, dangerous, and demanding. It takes
a lot of time and effort. You have to defeat the enemy from within before you
can defeat the enemy without.
"One of the reasons people drop out of training is because
the reality doesn't match the fantasy, because they think they will be Bruce Lee
in five easy lessons. But Bruce Lee worked hard. If you really want something,
it's worth sweating and paying the price. Good things don't come cheap."
Natan is proud of those students who remain with him. "Ninety
percent of black-belts in other systems don't know what my green-belts know," he
says. "We are like the army's Sayeret Matkal [reconnaissance unit]. Everyone
wants to be in it, but not everyone can. We're the elite of the elite."