Martial Arts for Self-Defense or Self-Realization?
Toward Resolving the Dilemma of Identity among
Contemporary Muslims:
Modeling the Way and Life of the Pendekar
By
Abdul-Lateef Abdullah
Traditional Arts of War – the Original Path and Purpose
Within the original understanding of many of the world’s traditional warrior arts, also known today as ‘martial arts’, the concept of “self-defense” is non-existent. In modern times, martial arts are taught and learned under the guise of ‘self-defense’, which connotes a purely physical exercise aimed at acquiring skills to preserve the physical body or property from external attack or threat. It is an activity taught and practiced almost entirely on the physical level. The traditional approach to warrior arts, however, regardless of their place or people of origin, is not as the defense of self but toward the actualization of Self to its true and authentic state. This path contains many stages that a student must progress through in order to achieve Self-realization. The great masters of the traditional warrior arts knew – as some still do today - that the origins and source of all war lies within the weaknesses of the human Self, and it was only by ‘becoming war’ through a life of self-purification, training and exertion, and the acquisition of authentic spiritual knowledge that the human Self could be purified and transformed into a tool for achieving and establishing real peace.
This tradition can be found in the Malay warrior arts such as Gayong, for example, an art whose philosophical and spiritual foundation is rooted in Islam and the science of tasawwuf. In this tradition, as the student increases his or her knowledge and perfection of Gayong on a physical plane, he moves simultaneously – through knowledge acquisition and spiritual striving -- toward perfecting himself on a spiritual one. As a result, as the Gayong practitioner becomes more physically capable in the martial aspects of his art, in contrast, his demeanor increases in humility, selflessness, politeness and an overall peacefulness that others notice and want for themselves. His ferocity is limited to the training sphere (gelanggang), unless in the rare case that his skills and abilities are called upon as a result of external aggression. For as the murid (disciple) increases in outward ability, inwardly, his heart moves closer to intimacy with his Lord, for he knows that all of his skills, abilities, knowledge, trials, tests and fortunes are from Him. In the process, the student gains further insight along the way as to his own true nature; its strengths, weaknesses and utter dependence on God (faqr).
The Way of the Pendekar
In time, from the deep peacefulness and God-realization emerges the authentic Self of the pendekar (traditional Malay warrior). When the authentic Self is liberated from the bonds of the lower self and its worldly attachments, the pendekar’s purpose and mission becomes manifest. The soul is then liberated and free to do the work for which it was created. Self-realization turns into complete God-dependence and intimacy, resulting in a pure and total devotion toward servanthood. The warrior, in turn, becomes a healer whose lifelong efforts turn toward healing the hearts of his fellowmen men through knowledge of God and the path of surrender to Him. The war, therefore, whose main sphere was the Self, shifts to the outward realm, where the authentic Self goes about its work of service to its Lord.
The work of achieving and abiding in the authentic Self is the way of life of the pendekar. It is not merely analogy and historical account, moreover, for such masters still exist today, though they may be difficult to come by. Those who know such people, however, know that as walis or ‘friends of God’, they bear the mark of humility. Without pretense, they go about their work without regard for titles, attention, or public regard of any kind. They eat humbly, speak humbly, act humbly and live among the people, yet at the same time remain a degree removed from them. They make no outward displays of religiosity and often times, only those who have benefited from their services or assistance even know of their spiritual gifts and stations. Quite simply, they are known only through their simple and humble behavior and service to their neighbors and fellow man. Their “identity” as masters is known only to Allah, and perhaps their families, students, fellow teachers and few others.
The pendekar, in his simple way, is essentially identity-less. He is not preoccupied with forging an identity, or of creating an image for himself, for he knows that what people think of him is Allah’s will and not his to worry about. As a true servant, he has little need for portraying himself as something. His striving is with his heart and his deeds, for his only object of desire is his Lord. He is not preoccupied with making himself known; rather, he only desires to be known by those who need his help. He would rather stay anonymous, do the work he is asked to do, and return to remembrance and worship of his Creator, his source of true joy and contentment. Though he is often called on to help others, he is never ungrateful for the inconveniences he might be forced to suffer, or the lack of compensation that his work might entail. In a word, he is grateful for whatever his Lord sends him, and whatever he receives from Him is sufficient.
The pendekar’s years of physical and spiritual striving, Self-discovery, and acquisition and application of knowledge from his masters wipe away any trace of preoccupation with status and prestige. Through his struggles he has found his true Self and knows with total conviction and clarity who and what he is. His heart is filled and fixated only on Allah, the source of everything. His identity is not formed from an ego-driven need to be known. His identity, rather, is that which he is known by, which is his usefulness to creation, purity of heart and unflinching willingness to help others without prejudice.
From the humble life of the pendekar, legends are born. Many a tradition in the Malay Archipelago exists of the walis of Allah who have lived their lives in this simple yet noble manner. Though the most humble of men, their life stories are preserved and passed down through the generations. Masters become masters because they do not seek elevation in the eyes of men. They seek Allah and because they seek Allah, He raises their rank in the eyes of men, for He has power over ALL things and takes care of His friends. The pendekar is thus loved, feared, hoped for and admired by men precisely because he makes no effort toward obtaining the admiration of human beings.
Toward an Authentic Muslim Identity: Integrating the Lessons of the Pendekar
The lessons of the pendekar and the traditional warrior arts are integral toward understanding what we truly seek in our quest for Muslim identity. In this day and age, many Muslims, particularly those living in the West, are deeply concerned with the issue of obtaining and preserving a ‘Muslim identity’. We are very concerned, it seems, with others knowing who we are, and even more importantly, our youth knowing what it means to identify as Muslims. Unlike the example of the pendekar, however, the modern-day need for an identity often equates to portraying a certain Islamic image, rather than what it means – in practice - to be human beings living in a state of surrender to the Divine. Muslim identity in the former vein focuses on form and image rather than the quality of character and actions.
Muslim identity among the spiritual elect is about behavior that is a product of God-consciousness (taqwa), rather than appearance or mimicry. Identity is not about trying to appear as anything, but about realizing what and who we truly are and being conscious of it at all times. Too often, we try to build an identity by mimicking actions based on what we have been told is ‘Muslim behavior’. This usually takes the form of our dress, our speech, and our ‘persona’. Outward displays of religiosity, however, without the inner intention and sincerity of purifying the heart are harmful rather than helpful. They build up the false Self, (i.e. the ego-personality, the nafs), which lies to us by telling us that by appearing a certain way, we will be, in fact, Muslims. In actuality, we will be doing nothing more than acting like Muslims, playing the part if you will, rather than living in a state of heart and mind-full surrender to Allah. For the latter requires humility and the lack of desire to be seen by others as pious or religious.
When the heart is fixated on Allah, what results is the natural inclination toward servanthood. Servanthood’s mark is - obviously - service, which is manifested in behavior that aims at forging unity, for Allah is the One who loves unity. Servanthood contains no pretense and thus no image. An individual can serve in any number of ways. The Prophet (SAW) himself said the best among you are those that give the most benefit to others. Beginning with our obligatory worship to Allah (of which all forms are sadaqah) and then to our communal responsibilities, the list of service is virtually limitless – plant a tree, feed a child (even your own!), help an older person, pick up trash, sweep the floor, etc, etc.
Muslim identity is thus not forged by a desire to be seen by men. This is image-building which is from the false Self and arguably a form of shirk – ‘playing God’ if you will. Living in a community as Muslims, i.e. in a state of Islam (surrender), that is not out to impress others but whose focus is on Allah, self-discipline and hard work, humility, compassion, selfless service and working toward creating peace and unity – is a community worthy of being known. Work and surrender in these difficult times are virtues that should be the mark of Muslims and will set us apart if we are sincere. They will not set us apart in a way that forges division, however, but in such a way that draws others to us and in so doing, elevates everyone to greater heights of human understanding, conduct and character.
If, on the other hand, we are preoccupied with portraying an outward image of religiosity that exudes exclusivity and pretense and is coupled with a personality to boot, this can only result in more division rather than unity. And we all know that ‘divide and conquer’ is the great weapon of Iblis. Why might Iblis, the great enemy of God and man, use division to destroy us? Perhaps because it is the opposite of what Allah wants, which is unity? Is not Allah the Divine Unity and does not ultimate success lie with and in Him? Superficial notions of identity can bring no benefit to us or anyone, no matter how ‘Islamic’ our egos might tell us they are.
Substance over Form
The examples of the pendekar are thus lessons in substance over form, and practice over pretense. The only identity that matters to such a one is that which stems from sincerity and action -- a reward for what exists in our hearts. Allah will always show us a mirror image of ourselves through others’ perceptions of us and how we carry ourselves. Our concern, therefore, should not be on how to forge an identity for the purpose of winning others over but rather on being and behaving in a manner that is worthy of Allah’s grace and support. This can only come about when we begin to see ourselves as servants above all else and the world as a place in need of unity and peace rather than division and tribal competitiveness.
Toward Resolving the Dilemma of Identity among
Contemporary Muslims:
Modeling the Way and Life of the Pendekar
By
Abdul-Lateef Abdullah
Traditional Arts of War – the Original Path and Purpose
Within the original understanding of many of the world’s traditional warrior arts, also known today as ‘martial arts’, the concept of “self-defense” is non-existent. In modern times, martial arts are taught and learned under the guise of ‘self-defense’, which connotes a purely physical exercise aimed at acquiring skills to preserve the physical body or property from external attack or threat. It is an activity taught and practiced almost entirely on the physical level. The traditional approach to warrior arts, however, regardless of their place or people of origin, is not as the defense of self but toward the actualization of Self to its true and authentic state. This path contains many stages that a student must progress through in order to achieve Self-realization. The great masters of the traditional warrior arts knew – as some still do today - that the origins and source of all war lies within the weaknesses of the human Self, and it was only by ‘becoming war’ through a life of self-purification, training and exertion, and the acquisition of authentic spiritual knowledge that the human Self could be purified and transformed into a tool for achieving and establishing real peace.
This tradition can be found in the Malay warrior arts such as Gayong, for example, an art whose philosophical and spiritual foundation is rooted in Islam and the science of tasawwuf. In this tradition, as the student increases his or her knowledge and perfection of Gayong on a physical plane, he moves simultaneously – through knowledge acquisition and spiritual striving -- toward perfecting himself on a spiritual one. As a result, as the Gayong practitioner becomes more physically capable in the martial aspects of his art, in contrast, his demeanor increases in humility, selflessness, politeness and an overall peacefulness that others notice and want for themselves. His ferocity is limited to the training sphere (gelanggang), unless in the rare case that his skills and abilities are called upon as a result of external aggression. For as the murid (disciple) increases in outward ability, inwardly, his heart moves closer to intimacy with his Lord, for he knows that all of his skills, abilities, knowledge, trials, tests and fortunes are from Him. In the process, the student gains further insight along the way as to his own true nature; its strengths, weaknesses and utter dependence on God (faqr).
The Way of the Pendekar
In time, from the deep peacefulness and God-realization emerges the authentic Self of the pendekar (traditional Malay warrior). When the authentic Self is liberated from the bonds of the lower self and its worldly attachments, the pendekar’s purpose and mission becomes manifest. The soul is then liberated and free to do the work for which it was created. Self-realization turns into complete God-dependence and intimacy, resulting in a pure and total devotion toward servanthood. The warrior, in turn, becomes a healer whose lifelong efforts turn toward healing the hearts of his fellowmen men through knowledge of God and the path of surrender to Him. The war, therefore, whose main sphere was the Self, shifts to the outward realm, where the authentic Self goes about its work of service to its Lord.
The work of achieving and abiding in the authentic Self is the way of life of the pendekar. It is not merely analogy and historical account, moreover, for such masters still exist today, though they may be difficult to come by. Those who know such people, however, know that as walis or ‘friends of God’, they bear the mark of humility. Without pretense, they go about their work without regard for titles, attention, or public regard of any kind. They eat humbly, speak humbly, act humbly and live among the people, yet at the same time remain a degree removed from them. They make no outward displays of religiosity and often times, only those who have benefited from their services or assistance even know of their spiritual gifts and stations. Quite simply, they are known only through their simple and humble behavior and service to their neighbors and fellow man. Their “identity” as masters is known only to Allah, and perhaps their families, students, fellow teachers and few others.
The pendekar, in his simple way, is essentially identity-less. He is not preoccupied with forging an identity, or of creating an image for himself, for he knows that what people think of him is Allah’s will and not his to worry about. As a true servant, he has little need for portraying himself as something. His striving is with his heart and his deeds, for his only object of desire is his Lord. He is not preoccupied with making himself known; rather, he only desires to be known by those who need his help. He would rather stay anonymous, do the work he is asked to do, and return to remembrance and worship of his Creator, his source of true joy and contentment. Though he is often called on to help others, he is never ungrateful for the inconveniences he might be forced to suffer, or the lack of compensation that his work might entail. In a word, he is grateful for whatever his Lord sends him, and whatever he receives from Him is sufficient.
The pendekar’s years of physical and spiritual striving, Self-discovery, and acquisition and application of knowledge from his masters wipe away any trace of preoccupation with status and prestige. Through his struggles he has found his true Self and knows with total conviction and clarity who and what he is. His heart is filled and fixated only on Allah, the source of everything. His identity is not formed from an ego-driven need to be known. His identity, rather, is that which he is known by, which is his usefulness to creation, purity of heart and unflinching willingness to help others without prejudice.
From the humble life of the pendekar, legends are born. Many a tradition in the Malay Archipelago exists of the walis of Allah who have lived their lives in this simple yet noble manner. Though the most humble of men, their life stories are preserved and passed down through the generations. Masters become masters because they do not seek elevation in the eyes of men. They seek Allah and because they seek Allah, He raises their rank in the eyes of men, for He has power over ALL things and takes care of His friends. The pendekar is thus loved, feared, hoped for and admired by men precisely because he makes no effort toward obtaining the admiration of human beings.
Toward an Authentic Muslim Identity: Integrating the Lessons of the Pendekar
The lessons of the pendekar and the traditional warrior arts are integral toward understanding what we truly seek in our quest for Muslim identity. In this day and age, many Muslims, particularly those living in the West, are deeply concerned with the issue of obtaining and preserving a ‘Muslim identity’. We are very concerned, it seems, with others knowing who we are, and even more importantly, our youth knowing what it means to identify as Muslims. Unlike the example of the pendekar, however, the modern-day need for an identity often equates to portraying a certain Islamic image, rather than what it means – in practice - to be human beings living in a state of surrender to the Divine. Muslim identity in the former vein focuses on form and image rather than the quality of character and actions.
Muslim identity among the spiritual elect is about behavior that is a product of God-consciousness (taqwa), rather than appearance or mimicry. Identity is not about trying to appear as anything, but about realizing what and who we truly are and being conscious of it at all times. Too often, we try to build an identity by mimicking actions based on what we have been told is ‘Muslim behavior’. This usually takes the form of our dress, our speech, and our ‘persona’. Outward displays of religiosity, however, without the inner intention and sincerity of purifying the heart are harmful rather than helpful. They build up the false Self, (i.e. the ego-personality, the nafs), which lies to us by telling us that by appearing a certain way, we will be, in fact, Muslims. In actuality, we will be doing nothing more than acting like Muslims, playing the part if you will, rather than living in a state of heart and mind-full surrender to Allah. For the latter requires humility and the lack of desire to be seen by others as pious or religious.
When the heart is fixated on Allah, what results is the natural inclination toward servanthood. Servanthood’s mark is - obviously - service, which is manifested in behavior that aims at forging unity, for Allah is the One who loves unity. Servanthood contains no pretense and thus no image. An individual can serve in any number of ways. The Prophet (SAW) himself said the best among you are those that give the most benefit to others. Beginning with our obligatory worship to Allah (of which all forms are sadaqah) and then to our communal responsibilities, the list of service is virtually limitless – plant a tree, feed a child (even your own!), help an older person, pick up trash, sweep the floor, etc, etc.
Muslim identity is thus not forged by a desire to be seen by men. This is image-building which is from the false Self and arguably a form of shirk – ‘playing God’ if you will. Living in a community as Muslims, i.e. in a state of Islam (surrender), that is not out to impress others but whose focus is on Allah, self-discipline and hard work, humility, compassion, selfless service and working toward creating peace and unity – is a community worthy of being known. Work and surrender in these difficult times are virtues that should be the mark of Muslims and will set us apart if we are sincere. They will not set us apart in a way that forges division, however, but in such a way that draws others to us and in so doing, elevates everyone to greater heights of human understanding, conduct and character.
If, on the other hand, we are preoccupied with portraying an outward image of religiosity that exudes exclusivity and pretense and is coupled with a personality to boot, this can only result in more division rather than unity. And we all know that ‘divide and conquer’ is the great weapon of Iblis. Why might Iblis, the great enemy of God and man, use division to destroy us? Perhaps because it is the opposite of what Allah wants, which is unity? Is not Allah the Divine Unity and does not ultimate success lie with and in Him? Superficial notions of identity can bring no benefit to us or anyone, no matter how ‘Islamic’ our egos might tell us they are.
Substance over Form
The examples of the pendekar are thus lessons in substance over form, and practice over pretense. The only identity that matters to such a one is that which stems from sincerity and action -- a reward for what exists in our hearts. Allah will always show us a mirror image of ourselves through others’ perceptions of us and how we carry ourselves. Our concern, therefore, should not be on how to forge an identity for the purpose of winning others over but rather on being and behaving in a manner that is worthy of Allah’s grace and support. This can only come about when we begin to see ourselves as servants above all else and the world as a place in need of unity and peace rather than division and tribal competitiveness.
