Structure, Rites, and Symbols

This thou must always bear in mind,
what is the nature of the whole,
and what is thy nature,
and how this is related to that,
and what kind of a part it is
of what kind of whole.
-MARCUS AURELIUS

Introduction

Anthropology focuses on, among other things, the nature of the social structure and its relationship to the individual. There are many ways in which this manifests itself in the martial arts, such as in the relationships among peers, between student and teacher, and between master and disciple. A society is a system of social positions expressed in the relationships between statuses, roles, and offices. Although itself a subculture of the Philippines Island identity, Filipino martial arts can be thought of as a cohesive martial culture made up of various subcultures (the forms of martial arts and martial sports). Led by individual masters, these systems are able to function within the realm of the Filipino martial arts society as a whole. This coexistence is achieved by way of the ideology of Filipino martial culture at large, and is often determined and reinforced through the social situation (e.g., the taking or teaching of a martial arts class; sport competition) in which the practitioner of the Filipino martial arts finds himself. The socialization process includes methods by which an individual acquires and assimilates the patterns, norms, values, and practices of a given culture, in this case a warrior culture.

These individuals (or actors, as they are known to the social scientist) interact with one another on many levels. The role of the martial arts practitioner is in a state of perpetual flux. Change occurs based on the practitioner's evolving relationship with other practitioners of the arts (e.g., another's junior, senior, instructor, or master), who are sharing in the common activity (e.g., learning, coaching, or instructing the martial arts). Although the activities that form the purpose and framework of the social interaction may remain unchanged, the participant's relevance to these activities indeed changes. Change occurs as the aspirant progresses in physical skill, and thus rank and seniority, within a given martial arts system, school, or organization. With the development of skills and knowledge comes a number of rites of passage that must be undertaken in order to be initiated into the next rank, thus elevating one's status, role, and position in the martial arts society.

Social Structure, Status, and Titles

People are drawn to the martial arts for a variety of reasons including self-defense, physical fitness, and sport competition. Donohue suggests that this attraction may be related to symbolism, mortality, and the quest for both control and identity. He suggests that the act of controlled (e.g., non-lethal) sparring is a symbolic encounter with ancient life-and-death combat in battle. Moreover, as a result of face-to-face interaction with other participants within the martial arts group, one derives a sense of belonging and identity.¹

In ancient times, the Philippine natives were forced to adopt a martial-based lifestyle due to frequent personal, tribal, regional, and national confrontations. Filipino warriors across time and space have generally come from a lower social classes, as we would regard them today by Western standards. Yet, within the structure of accepted martial arts etiquette, a balance is met-they are able to coexist in an otherwise ethnic- and class-segregated archipelago based on their shared ethos, worldview, and common interest (e.g., the study of martial arts). The mechanism that maintains this balance of power is the social structure in the Filipino martial arts, manifested in the form of various earned status ranks and titles.

In his classic study of status in Balinese culture, Geertz observed that "nearly everyone . . . bears one or another title . . . [that] represents a specific degree of cultural superiority or inferiority with respect to each and every other one, so that the whole population is sorted out into a set of uniformly graded casts."² Titles associated with the Filipino martial arts are often earned arbitrarily; requirements for the various levels are largely inconsistent from one martial arts system or organization to another. A guro (teacher) in one martial art may in fact know the same amount as an estudyante (student) in another martial art. In fact, by changing systems a practitioner may automatically be upgraded (or downgraded) in rank and its equivalent title by virtue of the different standards of the second system. Moreover, status in Filipino martial arts is, to use Geertz's term, a "prestige system." Status may be earned by either systematically advancing in rank in a particular martial art system, by competing and winning in a sport competition, by means of political affiliation, or by earning a reputation as a formidable opponent in challenge matches. More importantly, however, it is these titles which form the structure around which socialization occurs. Geertz notes that from a practitioner's title "you know, given your own title, exactly what demeanor you ought to display toward him and he toward you in practically every context of social life, irrespective of whether other social ties obtain between you and whatever you may happen to think of him as a man."³

The indigenous martial arts of the Philippines are quite extensive. However, when considered as a unified martial discipline, they become a physical culture made up of subcultures that are able to maintain their respective identities and central leadership while coexisting and interacting within the larger encompassing whole (e.g., the world martial arts "society"). While not always present, this harmony is generally maintained by paying due respect to the customs, attitudes, values, etiquette, and shared beliefs that bind the various indigenous Filipino martial arts together as a single functioning unit, society, or folk group. By way of example, lecture, and demonstration a martial arts master is able to instill in his disciples the attributes of integrity, perseverance, and indomitable spirit. In addition, through his example they may come to understand and subscribe to the warrior way of life.

Similar to religious movements and cult groups, Filipino martial arts have always developed and been perpetuated around the words and actions of charismatic leaders. Each martial arts system is headed by an individual known as the founder, grandmaster, or professor of the art. The martial artist places his faith and often unquestioning loyalty in the hands of his "master." A duality exists as these practitioners also place their faith in a God. The latter, however, is not a prerequisite to participating or advancing in the arts. At the onset of training the student is socialized in the proper forms of respect toward his seniors, proper methods of addressing other students and instructors, the regulations of the training area and rules of conduct, in addition to skills in fighting. This ideal of respecting one's seniors or elders in the arts seems to be an underlying ethic found in all martial arts, tribal structures, law enforcement, and military groups in the Philippines. It must be noted, however, that although a high degree of respect is given to the master by the student, it is often initially given out of the student's fear of the master's reputation based on his surviving in "death match" challenges (i.e., as a contemporary warrior), and initially (if ever) has little to do with respect for him as a person.

What becomes immediately apparent to the beginning student is the reverence with which the members of a given martial art hold not only their master, but for their martial arts systems on the whole, and the designated area and time in which training occurs. Such a time and space is often held "sacred" as the master's time is valuable and must not be wasted by the students. Moreover, in showing due respect to the art and its heritage, the training area must be kept clean and a serious attitude must be maintained while in it.

Sacred Time and Space

For socialization to occur in the martial arts (e.g., the unfolding of the various dimensions of the discipline to the participants), there must be a designated time and place where individuals gather to share in the common activity (e.g., training). For the Filipino martial arts practitioner the time is generally arbitrary, while the place is often a public park, such a "the Luneta" (Rizal Park) in Manila, or a more secluded area such as the master's backyard. While some Filipino martial arts masters do own and operate commercial clubs, the majority of these offer instruction in martial arts other than those indigenous to the Philippines. Many of the high-ranking practitioners of Filipino martial arts still hold their art as being mana , and as the "sacred" knowledge which gave the Filipinos their ability to overcome oppression. Therefore, for the martial arts practitioner time and space are not homogeneous; there exists a sacred time to receive, and a sacred space in which to participate in, the acquiring of sacred (i.e., warrior) knowledge.

In fact, Eliade suggests that, "sacred space possess existential value . . . for nothing can begin, nothing can be done, without a previous orientation-and any orientation implies acquiring a fixed point. . . . The discovery or projection of a fixed point—the center—is equivalent to the creation of the world."⁴ The "center" for the dissemination of martial arts knowledge is the training area, which is defined by the presence of the master, while "creation" in the martial context involves the forging (or creating) of a master from a novice student through various stages and transmissions of knowledge. In his discussion of sacred and profane space, Eliade observed that there is always a threshold which separates the two and which must be crossed in order to move into a different mode of being. In fact, it is "the frontier that distinguishes and opposes two worlds [e.g., the warrior way of life and that of the layman]—and at the same time the paradoxical place where those worlds communicate, where passages from the profane to the sacred world become possible."

A good example of the sort of threshold Eliade is referring to is the doorway that opens into a church, physically separating sacred and profane space for the religious believer. While this type of threshold is common it is not the only mechanism for transcending profane or ordinary space. For the Filipino martial arts practitioner, where a physical door or even a room indicating sacred training space is the exception rather than the rule, other "intangible" thresholds exist. In the example of training held in "the Luneta," the coming into an established training time with the master becomes the threshold as it moves the student's mental state from an ordinary person into a martial arts practitioner embarking on a warrior's path. Moreover, coming into contact with other students, teachers, or masters automatically constitutes a threshold because the practitioner must at once place himself in an appropriate social position as determined by his peers and seniors who are present. A threshold is also crossed when the practitioner puts on his training uniform (if one is used) or the taking up of his training weapons. Each of these examples constitutes the threshold for moving into sacred training time and space, although neither may have been specially designated or planned.

Eliade further notes that "the experience of sacred space makes possible the 'founding of the world': where the sacred manifests itself in space, the real unveils itself, the world comes into existence ... for the 'center' renders orientation possible."⁵ Thus, the transmission of sacred knowledge in sacred time and space effects physical and psychological changes in the martial arts practitioner. The student at once "finds" himself while persevering through hard and demanding practice and sparring sessions and by passing through various rites of passage and initiation. The "real" unveils itself in the applied skills of the student as he perfects them in training and through sparring. As the student progresses in rank along the martial social structure, he becomes oriented to the world in which he lives—and in a sense "finds" himself. He is no longer a layman but a martial arts practitioner on his way to becoming a mandirigma , a warrior. Eliade's analysis of the religious man suggests that he becomes unable to live in profane space, for it is in sacred space that he "participates in being" and that he "has a real existence." Interestingly, the life histories of the martial arts masters presented in Part Four indicates that this is also the case with the contemporary Filipino warrior. The martial arts practitioner can generally be found wearing a T-shirt or logo that identifies the system, school, or organization to which he belongs, thus existing in sacred space at all times. Martial arts practitioners also often choose to converse only about their chosen discipline and often carry various amulets or weapons on their person at all times. These items, then, are symbolic representations of the threshold between sacred and profane space. By always identifying with such things they become metaphors for a continuous existence in sacred time and space, making possible a perpetual state of orientation.

Rites of Passage, Liminality, and Communitas

Culture and personality are ethnographs of experience. Culture and tradition are performance, living expressions of what people do, say, and think. Rites of passage, as an essential part of this culture and tradition, result in a transformation between states of being. We must look at what happens in the moment, for rites of passage are a lived experience rather than abstract stages. And it is in these moments of lived experience that the participant uncovers his true self and affixes his orientation to the world.

While of primary importance in traditional societies, rites of passage are practically nonexistent in the Western world. Those that do exist are primarily linked to structured religious initiation rituals that have all but removed the elements of danger and the unknown-symbols of passage rites proper. Victor Turner's extensive work, however, demonstrates that indigenous societies emphasize rituals of death, rebirth, and initiation, as symbolically portrayed through rites of passage. Moreover, unlike an individual's vision quest, passage rites are often collective experiences.

Rites of passage consist of various communal ceremonies that often mark changes in social status an individual or group may go through between the various stages of life. Turner notes that passage rites can be violent or euphoric, but generally mark some predetermined biological or cultural change.⁶ As part of the ritual, initiates are never certain that they will successfully arise from the passage rite. Elements of unrecognized danger lead Turner to talk about violence as a "liminal" state of "being" in "anti-structure." Participants metaphorically earn their new status by way of a single or series of initiation rites.

In his classic work, Les Rites de Passage , folklorist Arnold van Gennep determined that all rites of passage are marked by three phases: separation, margin or "limen," and aggregation.⁷ This three-stage process is often metaphorically described as "death and rebirth." The individual in one category symbolically "dies" and is "reborn" into a new category.

To further our understanding of structure, rites, and symbols in relation to the Filipino martial arts, it is useful to examine the rituals and symbols of the Bakbakan International organization. Bakbakan is one of the few martial arts organizations in the Philippines that still symbolizes the ethos and worldview of the Filipino warrior. In fact, the term bakbakan refers to a "free-for-all" fight; the Bakbakan motto, matira matibay, designates one as being the "best of the best." In effect, Bakbakan members advertise that they are unbeatable in a no-holds-barred fight, and are committed and required to support their claim at any time and place if challenged. As such, membership in the organization is held in high regard and receiving a rank promotion is extremely difficult. The religious, spiritual, and fraternal heritage of the Philippines is evident in the symbols and rites adopted by Bakbakan. Bakbakan's values and principles are expressed in the ritual order in which members pledge their allegiance, loyalty, and obedience to God, to country, and to the Bakbakan brotherhood respectively. The ideals of Bakbakan are embodied in its three-step salutation which emphasizes karunungan (knowledge), katapatan (loyalty) and katarungan (truth—in life and in combat). For a student to be able to progress to the level of instructor and be able (and willing) to display such a challenging symbol and statement on his person, he must successfully emerge from a series of predetermined passage rites.

In the more complex of traditional societies, Turner notes that the roles accorded to rituals, in their ability to draw individuals and groups together in performances that call for harmony and cooperation, is significant. He suggests that an appropriate dependence on kinsmen, neighbors, and community is a pervading theme of many rituals. Each year, Bakbakan members from around the world gather for an annual meeting in Metro Manila. This meeting marks a time for members to renew friendships, strengthen social ties, and participate in ritual rank promotional examinations. Students and instructors alike must train diligently throughout the year as they may be called upon to participate in the rites of the promotional testing during the annual gathering. Before being asked at the meeting, students are generally unaware of who will be called upon to test their skills.

Turner notes that separation, the first stage of passage rites, "comprises symbolic behavior signifying the detachment of the individual or group either from an earlier fixed point in the social structure, from a set of cultural conditions (a 'state'), or from both."⁸ In terms of Bakbakan promotional testing, individuals are chosen based on the extent to which their skills have increased since the previous year's meeting. Once the individuals are named to participate in the testing they are required to participate in the passage rites.

The second stage of rites of passage marks a period of transition in which the individual or group is in limbo. During this "liminal" period, ritual initiates are generally separated from the rest of society. The chosen individuals go off by themselves for an undefined period of time (which may range from a few hours to a few days) in which to practice and perfect their skills in preparation for the physically grueling examination to come. Their characteristics are ambiguous as they pass into a cultural realm that has few or none of the attributes of the past or future state. In other words, the "passengers" are no longer in one status (as defined by rank) and not yet in another.

The social aspect of collective liminality is known as communitas. Turner defines communitas as "a relationship between concrete, historical, idiosyncratic individuals. Along with this direct, immediate, and total confrontation of human identities, there tends to go a model of society as homogeneous, unstructured communitas, whose boundaries are ideally coterminous with those of the human species."⁹ The ideology of communitas involves an intense community spirit, a feeling of great social solidarity, equality, and togetherness. It dispels the notion of "us and them" in favor of the communal "me and you."

Liminality and communitas are attributes of passage rites proper, and are important in the study of culture and society. Liminal initiates are neither here nor there; they are "betwixt and between" the positions assigned and arranged by law, custom, etc. These attributes are expressed by a rich variety of symbols in many societies that ritualize social and cultural transitions. Moreover, liminality may be marked ritually and symbolically by the reversal of ordinary behaviors; the ritual initiates no longer hold status and are no longer bound by the customs of their previous position.

In Bakbakan promotional examinations, the ritual initiates are required to participate in ten rounds of continuous full-contact sparring. Sparring matches are conducted in a predetermined way: all rounds are two minutes in duration; at the onset of each round the initiate is faced with a new or "fresh" opponent; all opponents must be of higher rank than the initiate testing; for instructor-level tests, the first five rounds are fought against single opponents and the last five rounds against multiple opponents. For a ritual initiate to be considered for promotion to the senior instructor rank, he is required to fight a designated number of rounds in each of three martial categories: boxing and kickboxing, grappling, and weapons sparring. Depending on the rank being tested for, it does not matter if the initiate defeats all or most of his opponents during the testing procedure. In fact, given that they are above his pre-ritual rank it is unlikely that the initiate will win. Rather, it is important that the initiate show a strong will and perseverance during the rounds. He must never back down and must always hold his ground. It is believed that if this can not be achieved under these "controlled" conditions then the individual will be unable to do so under the less-than-ideal conditions of a street fight or challenge match. Those initiates who are unable to continue the sparring matches for whatever reason (e.g., fear; lack of endurance) are automatically failed and must repeat the test the following year.

During the promotional testing the various social distinctions that existed in the initiates' previous position are disregarded, and those forthcoming at the culmination of the third stage of the passage rites have yet to be assumed. Within communitas all are equal and experience similar treatment and conditions. Through its moments of anti-structure, communitas leads to the finding of one's true self. It is a symbolic journey, a "performance," a "becoming." This liminal state is a symbolic test of one's moral being as a process of self-discovery through which the ritual initiates grow. Liminality, existing as anti-structure, allows reinterpretation of the participants' life. They are no longer students but "becoming" instructors; they are no longer men but "becoming" warriors. They simultaneously uncover their weaknesses, confront their fears, and discover who their true selves are.

Rites of Initiation and Status Elevation

Turner found that every ritual initiate goes through a humbling experience. It is during such an experience that the danger of excessive self-assertion in the new status is countered by a stern reminder that no one is autonomous but is always dependent upon others in his society or culture. For Bakbakan ritual initiates, the rites of initiation and status elevation are traditional and formulated to give value and meaning to each momentous and significant step toward mastery of the martial arts that a full-fledged Bakbakan member undergoes. The rites are conducted under the supervision of an appointed rites master and several other martial arts instructors acting in various roles-this is done to preclude the possibility of the ritual becoming something akin to hazing.

During the initiation rites, ritual initiates (one at a time) stand facing two lines of instructors on either side of him. Ritual strikes known as hataw are delivered by the instructors with a doubled black belt, triple-rolled at the open end, and knotted. Each instructor delivers full-powered strikes to the initiate's stomach, the number of which is indicated by the number of ranks the instructor is above the initiate. This is a final test of endurance, perseverance, and faith for the ritual initiates. Once successfully completed, the initiates move on to the third stage of the rites of passage.

The third and final stage of the passage rites is one of reincorporation, in which the ritual initiates are ceremonially merged back into the martial arts society, but this time in a new status. Turner suggests that at this point the ritual initiates are once again in a stable or oriented position, with new rights and obligations in relations to others of a clearly defined and "structured" sort. The new initiate is once again expected to act in accordance with the excepted norms, values, and ethics that maintain the organization as a system of such interacting positions. In the third and culminating stage of the ceremony, the initiate is often given a new name or title that symbolically marks the birth of a different kind of person, allocated a different status. In terms of symbolic representation of rank, Bakbakan members who successfully emerged from the rites of passage indicate their new elevated status by way of a colored belt and corresponding certificate of rank and title. The colored belts are in effect an heirloom passed down from previous initiates, as the practitioners return the belts at the onset of each new promotional examination. This also helps to foster a sense of community and cohesion among members of the organization, as they are wearing a belt with a heritage-a symbolic metaphor of the passage rites and the previous initiates who successfully emerged from them.

Symbols, Metaphors, and Meaning

A symbol is a "thing regarded by general consent as naturally typifying or representing or recalling something by possession of analogous qualities or by association in fact or thought."¹⁰ Bakbakan International maintains two symbols (or logos) that identify the organization, its ethos, and worldview. First is the sabong, or "fighting cocks/double phoenix" logo, which is the official symbol of the organization. Bakbakan members wear the sabong symbol on their uniforms as a visible reminder of man's constant struggle to master and control the dialectical forces within himself, between himself and others, and the quest to attain perfect union with others and ultimately with the Creator. The use of the tatak bungo, or "death's head" logo, is limited to Bakbakan's most senior members and is an indication that the bearer of this logo has successfully proven that he is in fact "the best of the best in a free-for-all fight."

The sabong symbol, when seen as "fighting cocks," characterizes the life and death seriousness of hand-to-hand combat, in which there can only be one victor in any true encounter. The warrior who has disciplined and prepared himself will arise from the encounter victorious. The cock is a symbol for vigilance, and, like the phoenix, of resurrection. It is also a symbol of the vigilance of the warrior.

The sabong logo, when regarded as a "double phoenix," symbolizes man and his ability to continuously learn, develop, and mature as a result of life's perpetual challenges and tests. Regardless of the nature of the trials-be it the pursuit of a career, the protection of loved ones, or the defense of one's honor-man, the living phoenix, has the ability to rise from the ashes in victory and glory.

The colored version of the double phoenix emblem is made up of the colors of the Philippine flag: red, white, blue, and gold. The phoenix is represented in red and blue colors. The red phoenix represents the warrior or the martial artist and the blue phoenix stands for the scholar or the man of peace. The double phoenix represents and identifies the dual nature of man, two faces held together in tension, but not in antagonism, as mutually interdependent and complimentary partners; one in essence, but two in manifestation. The eye of each phoenix is the color of its opposite image. This illustrates the presence of the virtues of the man of peace in the warrior and vice-versa.

In the black and white version, the white phoenix represents good, and the black phoenix, evil. The eyes symbolize the impurity that exists in both states and represents the embryo of the other state, a reminder that man cannot achieve a perfect state. The two states are contained within the circle of cyclic revolution and dynamism, of the totality, of opposites working in harmony, complimenting each other; the pure essence which is neither, yet both.

The outer border keeps the double phoenix or fighting cocks enclosed within the four joined circular areas embodying the directions north, south, east, and west. The boundary of the circles creates an endless arena for the perpetual struggle between good and evil, the continuous changes and variations in combat, and the never ending conflict within man.

The secondary tatak bungo, or "death's head" emblem, is a visual artifact of the Katipunan revolutionary fighters and indicates that the bearer is a seasoned fighter and not to be trifled with. The skull (bungo) is a reminder of man's mortality and the vanity of worldly possessions. Enclosed within the symbol of the Triune God, mortal man must learn to control pride, and, instead, submit to wisdom, power, and the divine plan of God. The death's head emblem is a harsh reminder of the fixation of death as opposed to the dynamic circle of life and movement symbolized in the "double phoenix" logo. It serves as a beacon and a guide in the conduct of daily life, to be lived with honesty and integrity. As an extension of the matira matibay motto which surrounds this logo, Bakbakan members strive to be the "best-of-the-best" in their professional, fraternal, and domestic lives, and to be a glorifying testimony to the strength of their faith and character.

Symbols are also evident in mediums other than the spoken language. Anthropologist Marcel Mauss notes that societies and cultures store a large part of their collective thought in symbolic body gestures.¹¹ When a common spoken language is not available between individuals, systems of body languages can be used to provide a means to express one's feelings and intentions. In the case of Filipino martial arts, such a system of body languages exist to symbolically express the issuance of a challenge match from one master to another; they also provide a connection between the sacred and profane worlds.

In times past, the only way for a master to test the superiority of his art over another was to engage in a patayan where the superior art would be determined by the death or maiming of one (or both) of the combatants. Although "death-matches" were officially outlawed by General Douglas MacArthur in 1945, many masters continued to attempt to establish their reputations by engaging in them. This was accomplished by traveling from island to island issuing open challenges to any practitioner who would accept. Since there are over 1,700 languages in the Philippines, issuance of a challenge was communicated through a series of symbolic body postures. These postures symbolically indicated whether a practitioner wished to engage another practitioner in a "friendly test of skills," or a patayan.

If a challenge was accepted, the combatants would again ritually engage in a series of symbolic body postures. These postures serve a dual purpose: acting as a mechanism through which one master would pay his respects to another by way of a personalized, system-specific salutation; and acting as a physical representation of the prayer (orasyon) that the master was mentally reciting, in honor of the Creator or to invoke the anito, prior to engaging in the dialectical interaction. This combination of prayer and ritual body movements acted as a mechanism through which a metamorphosis occurred in the patayan participant. During this time he surrendered to God, accepting death as a reward, not a punishment, and became one with the combative dance of death. At the conclusion of the ritual salutation the participant masters became warriors once again and gained access into a realm of martial-spiritual existence that few have entered.

An example of this spiritual-martial connection is found in the ritual salutation of the LaCoste kali system, demonstrated here by Guro Dan Inosanto. Accompanied by the mental recitation of an orasyon , each posture is symbolic of the martial-spiritual path as follows:

Orasyon: "With heaven and earth as my witness, I stand before the Creator and mankind on earth." Stand with weapon pointing down and open-hand reaching toward heaven (Fig. 1).

Orasyon: "I will strive for knowledge and wisdom with the five senses and beyond the five senses." Lower the empty-hand to the heart, while raising the handle of the weapon to the "third-eye," or mind's-eye (Fig. 2).

Orasyon: "I will strive for love for all mankind and there will be no shedding of needless blood." Lower the weapon until the weapon-hand rests in the empty-hand (Fig. 3).

Orasyon: "I bow not in submission but in respect to you (opponent)." Lower to the right knee while turning the weapon perpendicular to the "third-eye," and parallel to the ground (Fig. 4).

Orasyon: "I extend the hand of respect and friendship to you and I look to the Creator for divine guidance." Maintain this position while lowering the point of the weapon to the ground and extending the empty-hand toward the opponent (Fig. 5).

Orasyon: "I am trained to be a warrior with wisdom, if my peace and friendship is rejected." Next, lower the empty-hand, placing it once again over the heart, while raising the weapon-hand, placing it on the "third-eye," so that the weapon points down (Fig. 6).

Orasyon: "I stand in symbolism, for I serve only the creator, my tribe, and my family. And I owe no allegiance to any foreign king." Stand up and return to the initial posture by lowering your weapon-hand toward the ground, and raising the empty-hand toward heaven (Fig. 7).

Orasyon: "With my mind, and my heart, I cherish the knowledge my instructor has given to me, for it is my life in combat." Maintain the standing position and lower the empty-hand, placing it once again over the heart, while placing the back of the weapon-hand over the "third-eye," so that the weapon points down (Fig. 8). This movement is immediately followed by lowering the weapon until the weapon-hand rests in the empty-hand (Fig. 9).

Orasyon: "And if my body falls to you in combat, you have only defeated my physical body." Step back with the left leg into a closed-guard defensive fighting stance (Fig. 10).

Orasyon: "For my fighting spirit and soul arise to the heavens, for they are unconquerable." Complete the salutation by striking down and up with the weapon, returning to the closed-guard, and ready to fight (Figs. 11-14).

Within the contemporary systems of Filipino martial arts, however, such an elaborate ritualistic salutation is uncommon. Instead, there are brief salutations of generally one or two movements that symbolize respect for one's training partner, seniors in the arts, and one's opponent-much like the karate bow and Shaolin hand-salute.

The fear of being challenged and possibly dying at the hands of one's own countryman led many practitioners into seclusion and/or clandestine training. However, should a master be discovered and challenged it was largely his physical skills that would keep him alive, aided (at least psychologically) by the possession of orasyones and anting-antings. Refusing a face-to-face challenge was not an option.

When engaged in patayan , the possession and belief in orasyones and anring-antings would represent imago mundi , or the "central image," indicating a break in sacred and profane space, as described by Eliade.¹² Thus, by extension of possessing such an amulet or prayer, the patayan participant is able to control the threshold between secular and divine spheres. The warrior's skill, coupled with his belief in the presence of divine intervention during the encounter, enabled him to emerge victorious in the encounter. If both participants believed in the power of prayers and talismans, then the individual who invoked the more powerful spirit would dominate.

The death match itself represents a rite of passage solely concerned with status elevation. The participants psychologically detach themselves from the rest of the world with the understanding that they may die at the hands of their opponent. The two combatants simultaneously enter into a liminal state of being, as they are no longer regarded as revered masters but as coequal performers in a dialectical dance of death. They are in a state of limbo between their previous status and the unknown conclusion that seals their fate. One will die; the other will emerge from the rite successful (albeit wounded) and be reintegrated into the martial arts society as a master and warrior of even higher status and reverence.

In some schools of Filipino martial arts, the color red is symbolically connected with those who have emerged from such tests of faith and skill. Some masters were known to have worn a red bandana (putong) to indicate this. This privilege was reserved for those who emerged victorious from at least seven patayan matches.¹³ In addition, among the early Filipinos, de los Reyes notes that killing was considered a virtue of the strong leader. This is apparent when he states: "A Filipino who has not killed several people had no right to wear the putong (a sign of valor)."¹⁴ In ancient Filipino traditions, the color red symbolizes strength, power, and funerary practices. In fact, archaeologists have found in the Tabon caves, weapons and burial jars painted red with hermatite.¹⁵ The symbolic connection of the color red with the patayan is therefore apparent.