Arnis:

Healing a People’s Soul

© by Edessa Ramos

Published in part by the Sunday Chronicle, February 1997, Manila

"So what’s a nice girl like you doing studying Arnis?"

"So guys like you won’t ask me questions like these."

Being a devoted Arnis practitioner, I often find myself in the midst of such verbal encounters. And the reply I used to give was but a consequence of anger having once been my constant companion.

Fortunately, such a mood is seldom now. Ironically, the martial arts proved to have been the only effective cure against my anger. People take up martial arts for various reasons, usually for sports, confidence-building, and self-defense. But there are reasons that go far deeper, such as healing a wounded soul. This is what brought me to the study of Tai Chi, and later Seido Karate, then Wing Chun-Kung Fu. As one woman martial artist once wrote: To discover how to dance on the border between the two opposites, the Yin and Yang, and to accept both sides as valid, is to know the internal meaning of empowerment. This is something that no amount of intellectual achievement or any liberation movement can ever hope to offer. The martial artist seeks to become the true warrior, the master of oneself. One who prevails over the most difficult of life’s battles - the battle within. In my experience, true peace comes to me on the ground where I train. This is why I practice the martial arts.

Then I was introduced to Arnis, the ancient Filipino system of fighting whose origins date back to over a thousand years, long before the colonizers' arrival in the Philippines. And with it came a different kind of discovery, something that was essential for completing my search for the true self. A deeper sense of national identity.

Arnis is an art that continues to evolve, made possible by combining its traditional styles with modern-day modifications and techniques. For this development to take place, it is vital to sustain a consistent pool of devoted practitioners. Unfortunately today, majority of Filipinos veer more towards the foreign martial arts like karate, kung fu, taekwondo, and aikido. Arnis instructors have nothing against learning the fighting systems from other cultures and, as a matter of fact, are happy to encourage this for the purpose of enriching the experience and knowledge of Filipino martial artists. Understandably, however, they lament the fact that Arnis suffers in priority and that interest in our very own art is oftentimes minimal or entirely forgotten. The threat of Arnis’ demise is rooted in our negligence over the care, preservation, and development of our very own Filipino martial art.

Another significant area that is yet to be addressed is research and documentation, particularly on the history and fighting techniques of Arnis. Very few books have been written about Arnis and, according to Grandmaster Ernesto A. Presas, no serious work on the subject delved deep enough into its mystical past. Furthermore, many of the rare techniques are preserved in a most fragile way - in the minds of our aging Arnis masters. With their passing, rare components of the art would be lost forever.

If Filipinos knew more about Arnis, perhaps they would develop for it the same love and respect that they have for their heroes. For Arnis has always been our historical partner in achieving liberation from colonial rule. Its significance far exceeds the realm of physical combat. Embedded in Arnis is the way of the warrior, the spirit of the real fighter, the pride and dignity of the Filipino. As Grandmaster Ernesto A. Presas wrote in his book, Arnis Presas Style and Balisong: "One should know how to stand before he learns to fight. One cannot defeat the enemy if one has a poor foundation... In all aspects of life, a strong foundation is necessary, (for with such) he will not fall even if the opponent uses greater force.’’ No other art or tradition could express so profoundly the tenacity of the Filipino, in particular his determination to achieve his dream in the face of insurmountable odds.

In Arnis, we have the Anyo (form) and the Sayaw (dance) wherein the Arnisadores execute a series of intricate movements with their baston or with empty hands. They move in unison, separate yet one, each preserving his or her own style and timing while keeping rhythm with the others. The Anyo and the Sayaw teach the Arnisador to dance on the border of contradictions - of individualism and unity, attack and defense, advancing and yielding, striking and blocking, fierceness and compassion, giving and taking.

Contradictions - do these not reside in the Filipino soul, product as he is of the painful battles between ancestry and colonial experience? The Filipino is a survivor possessing an alertness honed by a certain discipline unique to him alone, the same discipline with which the Arnisador practices the art and seeks to master the contradictions in life.

The basis for the movements of Arnis is the figure-8, or ocho-ocho, the symbol of infinity. Infinity. Does this not symbolize the Filipino's belief in the endless flow of life - a constant spiraling that links the ancestors of our past to the children of our future? Indeed the very foundation of the art of Arnis is as Filipino as our blood.

Ours is a wounded national soul. The good news is, we have begun with our healing. We know that the cure is to be found in our history and thus we go back to it with a fervor. It is time to recover from the graves of colonialism those things that make us proud of our heritage and truly define who we are.

The Filipino people comprise a beautiful sinawali, people of interweaving destinies, with each strand adding to the strength of the whole. In our process of healing as a nation, clearly the rediscovery and revival of Arnis play a prominent role.