There’s something satisfying about peeling back the layers of a martial arts kata, deconstructing its tactics, tracing its roots, understanding why it evolved the way it did, and ultimately, figuring out what it’s trying to teach us. But it’s even better when you see how it all fits into the bigger picture.
Jion is one such kata. It’s a name that conjures esoteric intrigue, perfect to whet the appetite of any martial artist wanting to seek traditional and tantalising secrets.
Seeking answers led me to the period following the Ryūkyū Disposition in 1879. This was a period of transformation. Japan had dismantled the dual vassal status of the Ryūkyū kingdom, annexed it and embarked on a program to suppress Ryūkyū languages and culture.
While the martial arts they had once trained in secret were now stepping out into the public eye, their culture and their way of life were at risk of being whitewashed altogether, consumed by the policies and the inexorable march onwards of the Japanese Empire.
Enter Ankō Itosu, a former Ryūkyūan bureaucrat, who led a charge in response. He understood he needed to innovate the way their combative system was trained and taught. They needed something new. Something scalable. Something that could be taught en masse without losing the essence of their system. Thus the Pinan series of training kata was born . This was a structured set of forms designed to introduce beginning students to fundamentals, taught in a way that could be replicated and standardized.
When the 1901 academic year opened, the general public were shocked to see Ankō’s new program, from then on called Karate, launched throughout the Okinawan school system. It was a strange sight seeing martial art instructors comingling with educators, even stranger still to see groups of students in western-style uniforms performing synchronised kata.
Jion was developed at this time. Not a battlefield kata like some of the older ones, but one that embodied a shift in thinking; a kata designed not just for combat but for teaching control, poise, and an understanding of when not to fight.
Ankō himself explained it best:
“Jion doesn’t feel like a battlefield kata because it’s not meant to be. Not every fight starts with fists swinging. Some of the more dangerous conflicts I’ve been in were fought with words and gestures. Jion wasn’t about going for the win at all costs. It was about positioning, and choosing when, not if, you need to fight.”
– The Lost Scrolls of Ryūkyū, an unpublished
historical fiction manuscript by Colin Wee
The kata wasn’t a holdover from a bygone era. It was a message in a bottle, sealed with insights Ankō felt needed to be preserved, to be shared with students, and to remind all of a Ryūkyū that deserved representation into the twentieth century.
The Shift from Tōde to Karate
This change didn’t sit well with everyone. Those who had trained in the old way, the way of Tōde, saw the modifications and scoffed. The overwhelming success Ankō had with the Okinawan educational system rankled them. They complained the new curriculum was a dilution, a softening of what had once been lethal and raw.
They didn’t see the larger picture. This wasn’t about changing for the sake of change. It was about survival; not just of repackaging techniques. Tōde had remained locked behind closed doors, taught in secret to a select few across generations. Alone, it couldn’t adapt fast enough to the onslaught from Japan’s annexation. They were so blinded by Ankō ‘s success they couldn’t see this development would support their own self-preservation.
Ankō had read the Japanese colonial expansion, their increasing militarism, and their modernisation. He had once managed an entire kingdom, and saw an opportunity where others saw barriers. This was him operating at a rarefied level to create something that would outlast them all.
This was what excited me about the genetic code of Jion. I have obsessed over this system and its architects since the publishing of my first book in 2023, and its story is a compelling one which took me by surprise.
Yet, this wasn’t a story I had devised to embark on by myself. It was Itosu who reached out to me, who came to life through his feats, showed me how complex their society was, and what they had to do to survive the extinction-level threat Japan represented. I then dove deep to experience their story, tried my best to avoid the mental overwhelm while doing so, and represented the truth and facts as best as I saw them. Coming back up for air, I am now utterly convinced every martial artist needs to read this historical fiction to understand how Itosu’s life’s lessons directly impact the martial arts we train.
Jion, and JDK USA in Schenectady NY 2024
JDK’s Schenectady seminar 2024 (snippets as shown in the above embedded YouTube video) was nothing short of electric, bringing the JDK Method to life for everyone in attendance.
This seminar highlighted both Bassai Dai and Jion, but wasn’t just about techniques—it was a not towards the architects of the form, and their training for the inevitable. It was clarifying how we are trained to move, and why we move the way we do.
Here are some key takeaways from the weekend:
🔹 Beyond Technique: Anticipating the Opposition
JDK isn’t about fancy techniques—it’s preparing for the fight that’s coming. We train for opposition, contingencies, and workarounds. A technique is only useful if it accounts for resistance.
🔹 Unveiling the Hidden Layers of Tradition
Kata isn’t choreography – it’s a playbook. We dissected, tested, and pressure-checked movements to ensure they hold up under realistic conditions. This isn’t about abandoning tradition; it’s about making it functionally relevant in the modern world.
🔹 Shield or Springboard? Using the Enemy as a Tool
Sometimes, the attacker hands you an advantage—you just have to know how to take it. We explored how to redirect momentum, using an opponent’s own force as either a shield or a springboard to control the fight, create space, or set up a decisive counter.
🔹 Ground Force: Kinetic Chaining for Devastating Power
Striking isn’t about isolated limbs—it’s harnessing the whole body. We trained to generate force from the ground up, connecting movements efficiently to maximize power. Imagine striking not just with your hand, but with the weight of the entire planet behind you.
To everyone who participated, thank you. Your enthusiasm and support turned this event into something truly special. Keep training hard, stay sharp, and keep pushing the boundaries of what you know.
See you at the next one!
The above is a behind-the-scenes look at Colin’s latest historical fiction novel titled “The Lost Scrolls of Ryūkyū.” Stay tuned for further updates. While you wait, perhaps check out the article “In Okinawa, an independence movement finds an unlikely ally.“
