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Although nobody has brought it up directly (yet), the comments above do bring to mind, unintentionally perhaps, that there are some extremely unworldly people on this forum who believe that the Orientals should open their tournaments to all and sundry, and that by not doing so they are being xenophobic, greedy or stupid.
To get a handle on this issue you need to look at how the organisations and tournaments have come about.
Japan and Korea have similar backgrounds, though the Japanese have a much longer track record. In both cases the organisations and tournaments came about entirely through the lobbying by players of friends and companies. The players also competed among themselves for the available sponsorship.
With the exception of the Ing Foundation, I can recall no cases of a government organisation or company outside China coming along and offering, off its own bat, to give a lot of money to go players. The real process is first described in detail (sums are mentioned) in, for example, Iwamoto's autobiography. A particular episode there in the 1920s is of special interest for two reasons. One is that the battle described there (by an insider), between the Honinbo School and the Hoensha, led eventually to the formation of the Nihon Ki-in. It was a guild of players who had all contributed in some way to garnering the sponsorship or patronage. Some were directly involved in fund-raising. Others were more marginally involved, for example as a pupil of a more eminent fund-raiser. A pupil's role would be to keep patrons sweet by playing them, but he would also support his master financially. The basic contract was that in return for tuition and board and lodgings, a pupil agreed to give his master every penny of his earnings until he reached 4-dan. Each senior player therefore usually had a school of sorts, not just to train his own pupils but as a place to meet patrons.
There are some variations on the theme. One is described in a biography of Yoshida Yoichi. In this case a lad of exceptional talent but who lives out in the sticks is supported by local businessmen or wealthy patrons, who essentially buy professional tuition for the boy. In Yoshida's case, his book was called Izumo, the old name for Shimane (i.e. the sticks), with an overtone of "making it" to the capital (Izumo means out of the clouds). A different but related book, Shiso, describes the efforts of the locals in this place to boost the Kansai Ki-in, essentially by supporting the best players. In all such cases, the poor player is building up a backlog of indebtedness to various people.
The Nihon Ki-in held sway before the war for the second reason the Honinbo-Hoensha tale is interesting. A large proportion of the backers were irritated by the factionalism between the players and knocked heads together. Enforced unity certainly helped the Nihon Ki-in prosper, but there was still factionalism - the breakway groups of Kiseisha, Hiseikai, Igo Shinsha etc. In 1949 came the biggest schism of all when the Kansai Ki-in was formed. Hashimoto Utaro's biography gives details of how local businesses in the Kansai were carefully canvassed, the persuasion being based on local pride (Osaka versus Tokyo). The upshot was that an organisation was set up where players had all the usual teacher-pupil and player-patron bonds but with a strong overlay of local loyalty.
The situation has changed since then, of course. The insei system or Kikuchi Yasuro's Ryugakuen (also described in book form) are clearly different, and many older players have died. But the changes are often on the surface only, and are not universal. The old teacher-pupil system still applies (if anything, it's making a comeback) and the old bonds may still apply in the other cases. One rather different change is the proliferation of open events in which pros and amateurs (including foreigners) can compete on equal terms, but it is too early to say how these will evolve.
The above applies mutatis mutandis to Korea.
Now in these cases, a very small number of players have (a) trained themselves up to a very high level, and (b) put themselves out and about big time over a very long period to woo sponsors - have put themselves in hock, even. They have created the pool entirely by themselves, and so are 100% entitled to choose who swims in it.
Despite that, all the organisations have been remarkably open. Both the Nihon Ki-in and Kansai Ki-in have welcomed players from China, Taiwan, Korea and the West. Korea's Hanguk Giwon has welcomed players from Taiwan and China. Taiwan has welcomed Korean players. The only constraint is that these players must embrace the way things are done in each organisation - they need to do whatever needs to be done to propagate the organisation. That seems perfectly reasonable.
At this point somebody will try to add, with a sage nod, "Ah, but what about Rui Naiwei?" That story has still not been properly told, but you need to factor in elements beyond government interference, such as stinking rows among eminent players in China (not Japan), and you need to forget the myth about Rui not being allowed to play in Japan. She played in the Eikyu Cup at the Kansai Ki-in, for example. In short, she is the exception that proves the rule. The rule of welcoming foreign players, on the right terms, still applies.
Given the way the organisations have grown up and the special obligations on their members, it is difficult to imagine how a pro from one organisation can transfer easily to another. Nevertheless, it can and does happen, for reasons such as marriage between members of different organisations. However, it is not ever likely to happen just because some pro wants to get rich, and even less likely just because some western wannabe pro fancies spending a gap year or five trying to win the Meijin.
There is still competition between organisations, and so they are on their guard anyway. Their own obligations come first. The view of the Nihon Ki-in is essentially that, unlike dogs for Christmas, it takes on a pro for life. That includes welfare benefits and pensions. The pool is therefore regulated. This is really no different from what is happening in western organisations at present. Generous final-salary pension schemes have come home to roost and so companies are closing the schemes to newcomers. This means that two people can sit beside each other doing the same job, one with a tasty pension, one with crumbs. Unfair, perhaps, but not anti-foreigner.
The Koreans have not been able to manage the for-life process as well as the Nihon Ki-in and Kansai Ki-in, mainly no doubt because they haven't been at it so long. So what we see is that the Koreans get glory and short-term cash whereas Japanese pros do have a career for life, even without winning in international events. They may even be said to have become too comfortable. On the other hand, the spectacle of some senior players grubbing for income, as in Korea and China, is one they are not yet familiar with. Of course, sponsors get twitchy about national pride, and pickings could become scarcer in future, but go is secure enough in Japan at the moment to act like a child's vision of a dinosaur - trying to cut off its tail elicits a response only five years later, by which time Japan might have a Yo Se-tol or Kong Jie of its own.
I have left China out of this, because modern go there is very much a creature of government. The Chinese Weiqi Assocation is due mainly to Deputy Premier Chen Yi, and go has been used plitically. For some years now, However, Chinese pros have technically been taken off government life support. Of course there are still bonds there. Not necessarily sinsister - for example, the government may issue "guidance" that not all pros should congregate in Beijing or Shanghai. Poorer or remoter provinces such as Heilongjiang and Gansu must have a fair crack of the whip, too. But at the same time it does not go unnoticed when international success beckons, and government funds can be released not to pros directly but, say, to communities who wish to teach children the game. And who better to employ for that than the local pros....
Largely because of its origins, the Chinese Weiqi Association is not intended to be specially outward looking. But even they have weclomed pros from Japan, Korea and Taiwan. Japanese and Koreans currently play in the China Weiqi League (in Division B as well as the high-profile Division A). Taiwanese players have been allowed into other events, as has at least one Japanese woman. The Australian Joanne Missingham has been allowed to qualify as a pro in China. Nor must we ignore the vast amount of international involvement by China in other ways - e.g. hosting the Korean Nongshim Cup, running pair go events for Japan, hosting events for the Asian Games organisation, hosting events for the world's amateurs. Even an example at a trivial level - Chinese pros keeping an eye on Rin Kaiho's kids while they studied Chinese in Beijing - shows that the basic approach is one of goodwill and openness.
The fact that I have gone to great length about this issue will lead you to infer - correctly - that I get irritated by those people who either assert or assume, with bad overtones, an exclusionist approach by the various Oriental go organisations. Especially when, as indicated above, there is extensive documentation as to how the systems work.
I hope this adds a dash of factual information that will be used before opinions are voiced.
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John Fairbairn
