The Global Impact of Kung Fu and Martial Arts in the 1970s
You may have encountered a graphic circulating online, illustrating regions of the world where people engaged in kung fu fighting back in 1974, all shaded in blue. Unsurprisingly, the entire globe is depicted in this hue, leading to the amusing claim that “everybody” was involved. While this playful social media post may seem exaggerated, it does reflect a fascinating truth. The responsibility for the disco classic “Kung Fu Fighting” cannot solely be attributed to the artist Carl Douglas and British Asian producer Biddu. The real credit, or perhaps blame, for the widespread embrace of martial arts during the 1970s goes to its most iconic figure: Bruce Lee. Between shattering mirrors in the film Enter The Dragon, Lee represented both the pinnacle and paradox of martial arts’ rise in popularity.
I participate in a self-defense class known as shorinji kempo once a week, focusing on long-term growth and improvement. Now in my fifties, I find that the social aspect of the practice has become just as rewarding as the physical training. Self-improvement is a lifelong journey, one that can continue well beyond our youthful days of being, in Douglas’s words, “as fast as lightning.”
Prior to Bruce Lee’s emergence, martial arts were relatively obscure in the UK. His films propelled the practice into mainstream culture, yet few could match his extraordinary skills, though many attempted to replicate his feats. In the mid-1970s, moviegoers often exited their local cinemas attempting to mimic the impressive flying drop-kicks they had just witnessed. Unfortunately, the only things that truly took flight were plastic cups filled with lukewarm Nescafé and ketchup-laden Westlers hot dogs, much to the dismay of theater staff.
While Bruce Lee undoubtedly popularized martial arts, 1970s Britain was not fully prepared for the martial arts surge that would follow. Authentic instructors were scarce, leading to a proliferation of imposters who could easily acquire some tattered “parchment” claiming to be the latest Sifu and reap financial rewards from eager wannabe martial artists desperate to learn the “ancient Chinese art” of kung fu.
As time went on, the kung fu craze began to wane, coinciding with the rise of skateboarding. Early enthusiasts drifted away, leaving behind a dedicated core of serious practitioners. Some adventurous Westerners ventured to Japan to study, including British judoka Brian Jacks, who, at just 15, left his home to learn judo. After enduring countless falls at the hands of his Japanese instructors, Jacks returned to Britain to compete and ultimately won a bronze medal at the 1972 Munich Olympics. His appearances on the popular TV show Superstars further cemented his status as a household name.
Simultaneously, a growing number of karate practitioners, known as karateka, embarked on their own journeys Eastward to acquire authentic skills. Genuine teachers—Chinese and Japanese kung fu sifus and karate senseis—began to migrate Westward, recognizing the sincere interest among British people to learn martial arts. Those who went to China and Japan to train would return with a deeper understanding of the language and techniques, enabling them to establish training clubs and teach students with a solid foundation of knowledge. This process aligned with traditional Japanese methods of learning through observation and the honor of being demonstrated upon.
As this higher level of martial arts understanding began to permeate the UK, those who had set up purely profit-driven “McDojos” (disreputable clubs focused on making quick money) were eventually exposed and forced to shut down. During karate’s peak, British karate competitor and coach Ticky Donovan, along with others, appeared on Bruce Forsyth’s Generation Game, while comedic parodies of martial arts made their way to prime-time shows like Morecambe and Wise, highlighting how deeply ingrained the phenomenon had become in popular culture.
Even as the closing credits of Kung Fu signaled the end of an era, Britain had established itself as a powerhouse in competitive karate. Eugene Codrington achieved remarkable success, securing top three spots in both individual and team events at the World Championships in 1975, 1977, and 1980. Notably, in 1975, Great Britain triumphed over Japan to claim the world team title at a championship held in California.
While there was increased media attention on martial arts during the 70s and 80s, the depth of understanding that persisted into subsequent generations was often superficial. Perhaps the most misguided question to be relegated to martial arts Room 101 should be: “Are you a black belt?” While achieving a black belt is commendable, it is not the ultimate goal. It is akin to obtaining a driver’s license; once you grasp the basics, you can delve deeper into the techniques, expand your experience, and help teach novices the fundamentals.
Beyond the glitzy Hollywood portrayals, martial arts encompass a quieter, more philosophical dimension that is seldom discussed. Judo’s founder, Jigoro Kano, emphasized the principle of “softness controlling hardness,” which involves adapting to and evading an attack rather than resisting it. Humility and courtesy were key tenets promoted by Gichin Funakoshi, the founder of Shotokan karate. A common thread among various martial arts is the aspiration to enhance one’s character and contribute to the betterment of society.
Martial arts can serve as a form of meditation, fostering mental stillness and self-discipline alongside physical fitness. This makes them a sustainable exercise option well into our fifties, sixties, and beyond—something I hope to benefit from. During long hours spent in my uncomfortable office chair, I make it a point to rise every hour or so to engage in shoulder stretches and tai chi chuan exercises.
When we set aside the Hollywood lens, the choice of martial art or specific style of karate depends on individual objectives, whether they involve self-defense, sport, competitive sparring, or practicing a series of movements known as kata. At the core of all these disciplines is the shared goal of personal growth and character development.
I must admit, I aspire to achieve the rank of first dan someday, having come to terms with the fact that my enthusiastic shouts of “hai” during training were simply affirmations of “yes” in Japanese. Nevertheless, I also want to pause and reflect on my martial arts journey, savoring the experiences and insights along the way. Arigato gozaimasu.
