If we strictly followed the rules, running in the street to catch your bus would be impossible. If an official from the Athletics Federation were there, they might stop you and ask: “Sir, do you have a licence to run?” Every sports federation tries to monopolise the discipline it governs. The current situation in judo is similar: you’re not allowed to practise judo unless you have a licence from the French Judo Federation and Associated Disciplines. But what can a sports federation actually do? They can’t cut off your head or imprison you. They can only suspend or expel you. But that doesn’t stop you from practising or teaching judo. No federation, no law can forbid the practice or teaching of judo. The proof is that I’ve always done it.

How so?

To fully understand this issue, we need to go back to 1956. That year, the French Judo Federation decided that the College of Black Belts would be reduced to just an Association of Black Belts.

What does that mean?

It means that the College would no longer have authority over grading exams; it would no longer have the right to oversee the exams. Of course, the members of the College did not agree. The president, Mr. Jazarin, submitted a motion to retain the College’s prerogatives. He asked all black belts to sign it. Almost everyone did. If all those who signed had remained true to their commitment, judo wouldn’t have been diverted as it was. So, we voted on this motion: a significant number of us decided to continue the activities of the College of Black Belts.

Did you have responsibilities at the College at that time?

I wasn’t yet on the executive committee, but I was an active member of the College. Shortly after, I became the treasurer, a position I held for twelve years.

So, grading exams were forbidden?

Yes, the College no longer had the right to award grades. From 1956 to 1957, discussions dragged on, but in June 1957, we decided to organise an exam anyway, disregarding the Federation’s ban. We held it like the previous ones at the Coubertin Stadium in Paris. That was the last exam held under those conditions. The Federation sent an observer. He took note of the names of all those participating in the exam, and two days later, we received a letter informing us that we were suspended from the Federation.

Who was suspended?

Those who participated as jury members, referees, or practitioners in the June 30 grading exam. I was suspended along with Jazarin, Chalier, Chalon, Philippe, Callé, Laglaine, Burger, and others. I was on the jury.

How long were you suspended?

It wasn’t clearly specified. Some for six months, others for longer. I sent a vehement letter stating that I didn’t acknowledge their sanction and didn’t consider myself part of the Federation. As a result, I was expelled.

What happened next?

We all gathered to decide how to continue. We agreed to continue holding grading exams. But that wasn’t enough. Action was needed. I raised the issue: we were the College of Black Belts, a small group, perhaps not even 1,000 members. How could the College survive on such few membership fees? We didn’t have the means to sustain ourselves.

How did you sustain yourselves before?

The main expense was organising the exams. The College handled the technical organisation, but the material aspects were managed by the Federation. The Federation had the financial backing of its members—100,000 or 150,000 at the time—and everything was funded by the state. The Federation’s technical facilities and personnel were funded by the state, and the Coubertin Stadium was provided by the state. Like today, the Federation had many revenues and few expenses. Meanwhile, we had no income.

Did the Federation not fund the College? Was a portion of the fees not allocated for its operation?

Yes, a portion, but once we refused to comply, the funds were cut off. We also lost access to the facilities. The last exam we held at Coubertin was in June. After that, we were no longer allowed to use it, as the stadium belonged to the City of Paris. So, we had to start by finding new premises, which cost money. Since we couldn’t agree with the Federation, I proposed creating a new one. Most of the black belts in the College were instructors with their own clubs, so they had no reason not to affiliate with our federation. We needed to create a federation. We had Mr. Rocca Serra with us at the College. He was a sportsman and had connections at the Ministry of Youth and Sports. While Mr. Jazarin remained president of the College, we proposed that Rocca Serra become president of the new federation. And so, we created the FNJS, the National Federation of Sports Judo.

A federation that claimed to be about sport?

Only for the sake of the cause. The state required judo to be organised like any other sport, with a single federation authorised to organise competitions and everything else. Since judo had to be represented as a sport, the FNJS would take on that role. Meanwhile, the College would continue its work: awarding grades, defining the form of practice and teaching… We created the FNJS and began to gain members. The clubs brought in people, and we started organising competitions. We couldn’t call them championships since that title was reserved for official federations, so we called them criteriums or cups.

To organise these events, we rented a venue on Impasse Souzy, not far from Place de la Nation. At the end of the impasse, there was a hall called the Stadium. It was an old theatre slated for demolition, and we managed to secure the lease. So, we used this hall for a while. I took care of installing a floor and tatami mats; the changing rooms already existed as part of the theatre. We had a beautiful dojo there. We organised competitions and also held the College’s training sessions.

Did Kawaishi maintain his authority within the College?

Kawaishi was in a difficult position. The Federation had threatened to have him expelled from France, so he didn’t do much. He was supportive of the College, but he couldn’t afford to take a stand. I tried to convince him to join us, but he insisted on remaining neutral. However, that didn’t prevent him from being removed from his position as technical director of the Federation. The Federation didn’t have the audacity to go as far as expelling him, though they could have, as they did with others.

Who else?

Ichiro Abe was quickly expelled from France, and Hirano had to exile himself to Belgium…

With Kawaishi not joining you, what support did you receive?

Michigami took risks for us. He was a 7th dan, a significant instructor. In Japan, he had received a special training that gave him prestige that other Japanese judoka didn’t have. He had settled in Bordeaux, where he developed a school. Since Kawaishi didn’t want to join us, we asked Michigami to come. He agreed to take on the technical direction of the College and later the FNJS. From that point, he came to Paris about every two months to lead a course and oversee grading exams.

Wasn’t he afraid of sanctions?

He had the protection of the mayor of Bordeaux.

From an official standpoint, what was the FNJS’s position?

Rocca Serra was working to obtain recognition from the Ministry of Youth and Sports. He implied to his official contacts that we were ready to accept categories.

Weight categories?

There was talk of categories, but he didn’t specify what kind. We wouldn’t have done weight categories, it was impossible, we had fought against them before. Perhaps we would have done value categories, but not weight categories.

Was it a form of deception?

Yes, it was a manoeuvre. It was all very difficult. And it almost worked; the ministry was on the verge of giving us recognition instead of the FFJDA. At the last minute, there was a leak, and the FFJDA responded by speeding up the implementation of weight categories. Thanks to that, they remained the national federation.

What became of the FNJS?

The FNJS no longer had a reason to exist. We couldn’t continue in that way. We couldn’t allow ourselves to be taken for something we were not. We didn’t want to remain a federation of sports judo when we didn’t care about sport. The idea of sports judo had only come up to gain an audience with the ministry. If that was lost, we had to abandon the reference to sport. So, we changed the name, and on Mr. Jazarin’s suggestion, we became the National Federation of Traditional Judo, FNJT.

How did things continue through the FNJT?

It continued in the same way; we were still at odds with the Federation.

How long did this last?

From 1965 until the merger in 1971. The College of Black Belts waged a very intense struggle. In total, I was on the front lines for twelve to fifteen years. I was the editor-in-chief of Judo Traditionnel, the College’s journal. I handled that for twelve years. I worked closely with Mr. Jazarin.

What was your relationship with him?

You could practically say that it was Mr. Jazarin and I who ran the College. He didn’t make decisions without consulting me. We were in perfect harmony in terms of our conceptions, our thinking, and so on.

You fought together?

Starting in 1970, we began seeking common ground with the FFJDA. We held regular meetings with them. But at heart, the Federation wanted to absorb us. Jazarin was sometimes tempted to strike a deal. Each time, I reminded him that it wasn’t the right moment. Even when we reached 25,000 members, we needed to wait until we were more equal with the FFJDA to avoid being crushed.

But the FNJT was absorbed?

One day, around Easter 1971, I received a call from Mr. Jazarin asking me to meet him at the College. Chalier and Rocca Serra were there too. Jazarin announced to us that he had signed the protocol agreement with the FFJDA. He had signed alone, without informing anyone, on an Easter Monday. It was a betrayal. I was devastated. Twelve years of work with him, sharing the same ideal—it wasn’t possible… It was one of the greatest disappointments of my life. Not only because we lost the College of Black Belts, but because I lost a friend.

What led him to sign?

I think he gave in to blackmail. From that point on, the College depended on the FFJDA. All that remained was to dissolve the FNJT. Jazarin went on a campaign to get the FNJT dissolved, as he had committed to in his agreement. I was against it, and I campaigned everywhere on my own. I had the trust of many people because I led courses everywhere: in Alsace, Normandy, Brittany, the South… Everywhere, I campaigned for people to vote against the dissolution. But ultimately, the dissolution happened.

I didn’t accept it; I left the College and the FNJT because there was no longer any reason for me to stay. Judo had been betrayed, and I didn’t want to follow that path. I lost all my friends from the College and was left alone with my club.

Did the black belts continue to work together during this period?

From the Jazarin motion in 1957, the black belts found themselves divided. Already, many people stopped coming. People like Courtine and Pariset, for example, decided not to attend training anymore because they claimed too many people knew their moves. They argued that they were no longer effective against partners who were too well-informed. We had a heated discussion about this in front of the College dojo, on the pavement on Boulevard Auguste Blanqui. I told them their attitude was ridiculous. They knew very well that if they could no longer throw their partners, they just needed to work harder. But they stopped. Courtine was one of the best judoka I knew. He had the most influence, with many students and followers. If they had stayed with us, judo wouldn’t have degenerated like this. Later, they realised their mistake. They tried to organise a black belt training session at Pariset’s club. It was the old Piquemal club on Rue des Martyrs. But they got no one. It didn’t work; people didn’t go.

And then the College training sessions moved to Impasse Souzy?

We tried, but it didn’t work well enough. At one point, we were only 150 or 200. We should have been much more numerous. People didn’t come to the College because they feared sanctions from the Federation.

What was your situation after the FNJT disappeared?

After the merger, I decided for myself and my club not to be part of anything anymore. I continued to lead courses as before.

Completely independently?

Yes. I remained alone in this situation for a year, without licences, without a federation, without anything. I can say that for quite some time, I was practically alone in fighting. There were students and friends who helped me, but they didn’t take as firm a position as I did. They didn’t fight like me; they didn’t take that stand.

Did you still have many students?

Many. I had closed the salle on Quai d’Anjou and opened the dojo where we are now, on Rue Beautreillis. I gave classes every day. Among the club members, some students still wanted to take their grading exams. But in the situation we were in, I no longer had the possibility of arranging that. So, to allow these people to take their exams, I affiliated the club with the FFJDA.

You affiliated the club?

Yes. To affiliate the club, you needed a minimum of twelve licences, so I took just twelve licences. In principle, I should have been licensed myself, but I refused to be.

Your students, if they wanted to take their black belt exam, were required to do so through the FFJDA?

Yes, there were no other options at the time. The College no longer existed as an authority.

The Federation had won the right to be the sole body that awarded grades?

Yes.

Unless you decided, by your authority, to grant them the black belt?

Yes, but at that time, I didn’t want to do that. Because I still thought I could revive an organisation parallel to the College. I thought I could bring people together. I tried: I created an Amicale du Judo Traditionnel Français and gathered a few students. But it didn’t take off. People were too disappointed. They had experienced failure with the College, and they didn’t want to commit elsewhere. Many people still talk to me about it.

What did they do?

They stayed with the FFJDA. They started taking grading exams and participating in competitions with the FFJDA. I stayed out of all that.

In this context of discouragement, how did the possibility of a new federation come to you?

During a course, a student gave me a letter he had received. It was a circular from a certain Fédération Française Autonome de Judo (FFAJ), based in Roanne. The letter had been sent to clubs where some members were also in the College of Black Belts. The president of the FFAJ thought they might join his federation. A few did. But at that time, I didn’t know all this. I put the letter in my pocket and forgot about it. It wasn’t until a few months later, at the end of 1973, that I found it again. So, I called Mr. Biliki from the FFAJ. I introduced myself and suggested we meet in Roanne. We met there and discovered we had mutual friends. We agreed on the essentials, and I returned to Paris determined to affiliate my club with the FFAJ.

Just like that?

He gave me the information, the registration form… Then, the following week, I received a phone call from Mr. Biliki. He had inquired about me and my past activities and wanted to meet again. This time, he came to Paris. Immediately, he offered me the position of technical director of the FFAJ. I accepted to become the technical director of his federation, but not under any conditions.

What conditions?

That the members practise the form of judo I teach, namely the original judo of Kano, that I oversee all grading exams, and that I form a technical commission.

Did he accept these conditions?

He discussed it with the president of the FFAJ, and we organised a first working meeting. So, I met the president: he wasn’t a judoka! My first action was to demand a change of president. A judo federation with a president who doesn’t practise judo isn’t acceptable. They agreed, and we started functioning. I began giving courses in Roanne every two or three months, and then I organised the first grading exams. And it started like that, during 1974.

Had you considered becoming a technical director before?

I never had the ambition to become the technical director of a federation. I had no ambition. My only desire was to make a certain form of judo known and practised.

For that, you could have continued working without needing to hold a prominent position?

Yes, absolutely. It was out of necessity that I ended up in that role.