Remembering the Source: The Roots of Our Art

In a time when information moves faster than ever before, when videos, tutorials, and opinions are available at the tap of a screen, I'm often struck by how little many students of our art truly understand about its history—or how few take the time to care.

As someone who studied history in college, I've always been fascinated by where things come from and how they evolve. To truly know an art, one must know its roots.

My own journey in martial arts has long been intertwined with a deep respect for Japan—its culture, its traditions, and its martial history. I've been fortunate to travel, train, teach, and even compete in Japan—the Land of the Rising Sun, birthplace of so many martial disciplines, and indeed, the birthplace of our art.

The Foundation: Kosen Judo and Ne Waza

Every art has a foundation, and Jiu Jitsu is no exception. The techniques that we drill every day in our academy—the escapes, the transitions, the positional controls, the submissions—were not born overnight. They are the result of generations of refinement, experimentation, and transmission.

When I was in Japan, I had the honor of training under a remarkable Sensei who had himself trained with the great Masahiko Kimura during his university years. Kimura, of course, is a legendary figure in the martial world—a symbol of precision, discipline, and the relentless pursuit of perfection. Teachers would often describe how Kimura's focus on Ne Waza, or ground technique, shaped not only his own skill but influenced an entire era of grappling in Japan.

During the early part of the 20th century, this emphasis on ground technique was known as Kosen Judo. It represented a distinct branch of Judo, practiced especially in Japanese universities, that focused heavily on the technical intricacies of ground fighting. These were the techniques of control, patience, and leverage—the very DNA of what would later become Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.

When the Second World War ended, Japan underwent dramatic social and cultural changes under the Allied occupation led by General Douglas MacArthur. Among those changes was the prohibition or heavy restriction of many traditional martial arts.

They were viewed as too "militaristic," too closely tied to the Bushido warrior ethos that had fueled Japan's wartime spirit. Kendo, Judo, Iaido, and other arts were banned or transformed into sanitized, sport-like versions acceptable under the new regulations.

As a result, the deep and technical Ne Waza practice that thrived in the pre-war universities began to fade. It wasn't forgotten entirely—but much of its structure and its spirit were lost in Japan's post-war transition.

As history often reminds us, ideas and traditions have a way of finding new life when carried across oceans. The techniques and principles of Kosen Judo found fertile ground in Brazil, where the Gracie family and other great teachers continued to develop and refine them.

They preserved what was nearly lost—Ne Waza—and expanded it through endless testing, adaptation, and innovation. What emerged was Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, a modern expression of an art with ancient roots. It retained the essence of the Japanese principle: maximum efficiency through minimal effort, but infused it with the creative freedom and realism of constant evolution.

This is the art we practice today at Morumbí Jiu Jitsu Academy. Every movement we teach, every transition we study, carries within it the legacy of both traditions—the disciplined structure of Japan and the adaptive genius of Brazil.

As students and practitioners, we should always remember that what we train is not new. The arm lock, the triangle choke, the guard—all have deep histories, shaped by those who came before us.

To forget that lineage is to lose part of what gives Jiu Jitsu its soul. History gives meaning to technique. It teaches us humility and perspective. It reminds us that we are part of a long chain of teachers, students, and seekers of truth through movement.

So, when you bow before class, take a quiet moment to reflect—not just on your training, but on the generations of Sensei and Professors who made it possible for us to step onto the mat today.

And if you'd like to see this connection for yourself, I invite you to watch the video linked below. Observe carefully the pre-war Kosen Judo footage. Notice how many of the techniques look familiar—the sweeps, the pins, the chokes. You'll see the same DNA that runs through every Morumbí class, alive and thriving decades later.

As martial artists, we are not merely learning how to fight. We are inheriting a history, a philosophy, and a way of life. The techniques are only the surface. The deeper lesson lies in understanding where they come from—and in honoring those who carried them forward when the world tried to silence them.

May we train with gratitude for those teachers from the Land of the Rising Sun, and with appreciation for the Brazilian masters who preserved and transformed their legacy.

Our responsibility now is to carry that same flame forward—with respect, awareness, and purpose—so that the next generation can understand not only how to train, but why.

Kosen Osaekomi

— Professor Raul Montolfo Morumbí Jiu Jitsu Academy – Camarillo