012 — The Okinawan Spirit of Not Losing, Part 2: Matsumura Sōkon and the Bull

An AI-generated photorealistic likeness of Matsumura Sōkon, based on historical reference images.

"A true warrior is not quick to anger. The purpose of martial training is the protection of life." – An Adaptation of Matsumura Sōkon's Seven Precepts

Matsumura Sōkon (c. 1809–1899) was one of the most influential figures in the history of Okinawan martial arts, a man whose life and teachings helped shape Karate as we know it today. Born in Yamakawa, Shuri, Okinawa, likely around 1809 (though some sources place his birth as early as 1796), Matsumura came from the shizoku or gentry class. This afforded him access to the finest formal as well as martial education available in the Ryūkyūan Kingdom.

From a young age, Matsumura trained under some of Okinawa's most prominent practitioners. He studied with Sakugawa Kanga (1733–1815), famed for his bōjutsu and Chinese-influenced ti, and possibly with Kanga's student, the renowned Tōde Sakugawa. He is also believed to have trained under Iwah of Shuri, an expert in Chinese kenpō. Over time, Matsumura expanded his studies beyond Okinawa, traveling as a royal envoy to Fuzhou, China, where he is believed to have learned additional Chinese martial arts, and to Satsuma, Japan, where he likely trained in Jigen-ryū swordsmanship. These experiences gave him a broad technical foundation and a rare perspective. He became known for integrating Okinawan, Chinese, and Japanese influences into a highly refined system that became the foundation of Shuri-te, which would later evolve into Shōrin-ryū and influence nearly every major karate style practiced today.

Matsumura's skill and composure earned him the trust of the Ryūkyūan royal court, where he served as the chief bodyguard and military attaché to three successive kings: Shō Kō (r. 1804–1834), Shō Iku (r. 1835–1847), and Shō Tai (r. 1848–1879). In these roles, he oversaw the royal guard at Shurijo, led diplomatic missions to China and Japan, and was responsible for maintaining order and security in the kingdom. These responsibilities solidified his reputation not only as a martial artist but also as an exceptional statesman.

Matsumura's influence extended beyond his lifetime through his students, many of whom became famous in their own right. He taught Ankō Itosu, the "Grandfather of Modern Karate," as well as Kyan Chōtoku, Motobu Chōki, and others who shaped Karate's development in the 20th century. He also systematized kata such as Passai, Seisan, and Chinto, and wrote Matsumura's Seven Precepts, a set of principles on martial ethics that continue to inspire practitioners today.

Matsumura lived a long and remarkable life, passing away in Shuri in 1899 at roughly 90 years old—an extraordinary age for his era. His legacy is not only one of technical mastery but also of moral and philosophical clarity, making him an enduring symbol of Okinawan Karate's true spirit.

Among the many stories told about Matsumura's, one legend stands out—an encounter that took place not in a dōjō, but in a bullfighting ring.

During Matsumura's time, Okinawan bullfighting—known as ushi-zumō—was one of the island's most popular forms of entertainment. Unlike Spanish bullfighting, it was not a contest between man and beast. Instead, it pitted two bulls against each other in tests of strength and dominance, often drawing large crowds who gathered to cheer for their favorite animals.

It was within this context that the King of Okinawa, who owned a prized bull famed for its strength and ferocity, began to wonder: could a man ever defeat such a powerful creature? Seeking to satisfy his curiosity, the King summoned Matsumura and ordered him to face the bull before an eager and expectant crowd.

Matsumura, in his unwavering respect for the King's authority, bowed, accepted the order without question, and left the court in silence.

Oral tradition preserves two versions of what happened next.

In the first version, Matsumura walked calmly into the ring on the appointed day, unarmed and composed. As the bull charged with hooves pounding and horns lowered, he waited until the very last instant before stepping forward in line with the charging bull and unleashing a thunderous kiai. The bull skidded to a halt, snorted in confusion, and, after circling warily, fled the arena without Matsumura ever raising a hand.

In the second version, Matsumura approached the situation more strategically. Each night leading up to the match, he secretly visited the bull's pen, feeding it and striking it on the head between the horns. When the day of the challenge arrived, the bull stepped into the ring, saw Matsumura, remembered him, and bolted before the match had even begun.

Both versions share the same lesson, but the first captures the immediacy and presence of Matsumura's character. This is the version most often passed down, and the one that speaks most clearly to the heart of Okinawan Karate. It went something like this:

The crowd hushed as Matsumura stepped into the ring. The sun was high and beat down upon the spectators, Matsumura, and the bull. Dust rose high into the air as the bull pawed the ground across from him.

Matsumura did not move. His gaze betrayed nothing. Hands at his sides, feet rooted to the earth, he stood firm.

Minutes later, the bull charged. The ground shook.

At the very instant the bull closed the distance, Matsumura stepped forward—not back—planting himself directly in line with the bull's attack.

Matsumura locked eyes with the animal as he let out a single, piercing kiai.

His spirit split the air.

The bull faltered, confused by the man who refused to yield. It circled once, twice, muscles quivering, and then—with a final snort—turned and galloped out of the ring.

Matsumura relaxed, bowed lightly to the King, and exited the arena.

There was no fight.

Whether you favor the kiai version or the other, the lesson remains the same: Matsumura "won" by not fighting at all.

This story is more than a legend—it is a reflection of the Okinawan cultural concept of makenu—"not losing." Not losing your composure. Not losing your moral footing. Not losing sight of the greater purpose of Karate. In the bullring that day, Matsumura protected the bull's life as well as his own. He demonstrated that true martial mastery is not measured by the force of one's strikes but by the ability to bring even chaos to stillness.

By Matsumura's time, Okinawan martial culture had been shaped by centuries of foreign occupation, weapons bans, and a constant need for survival. Fighting recklessly could mean death or dishonor, not just for oneself but for one's family and community. Victory without violence was the highest form of skill. This is the meaning behind the saying karate ni sente nashi—"In Karate, there is no first strike." It is not about passivity but about restraint born of strength. Matsumura understood that the ability to avoid conflict is more valuable than the ability to win it.

Today, Karate is often dominated by competition and the winner-loser mindset. Matsumura's story is a reminder that our art is about far more than points and medals.

As modern karateka, perhaps we should ask ourselves:

Can we stand calmly in the face of aggression?

Can we choose a path that avoids conflict and prevents harm rather than engage with it?

Can we walk away intact, physically and morally, without needing to prove ourselves?

Matsumura could, and that is why his legacy endures. His story is not simply about a bull. It is about the quiet courage to resolve conflict without violence and the wisdom to see that strength is not found in domination but in self-control.

He did not seek to win. He chose not to lose. This is the true spirit of authentic Okinawan Karate.

Up Next

In Part 3 of this series, I will explore a story about Miyagi Chōjun, the founder of Gōjū-ryū, who neutralized aggression and danger through yielding and compassion.