Silat at the Crossroads: An Instructor’s Honest Look at Running a Perguruan

Running a silat perguruan often feels like standing at a junction where every direction comes with criticism. Do too little and people say the art is no longer effective. Do too much and others say you’ve lost the adab, sold out, or become “too Western.” I’ve sat in both conversations, sometimes on the same week, and the tension is real. This isn’t about picking a side. It’s about the practical dilemmas many of us face when we try to keep the art alive without bankrupting ourselves, injuring students, or getting torn apart by the community that claims to love it.

One of the sharpest points is safety versus realism. Techniques that can genuinely injure people, certain throws, neck related applications, hard sparring, are not theoretical. A few years ago PERSILAT itself adjusted rules around dangerous throwing techniques because the risk was recognised. Yet for a small school the calculation is blunt. If a student ends up in hospital the instructor often carries the financial and emotional weight. I’ve seen older teachers get blamed by parents when a child couldn’t attend school for weeks. In places like Singapore, where liability is high and most of us are small players, that risk is not abstract. At the same time adult students, especially those working in security, are not asking to become professional fighters. They want training that is relevant to their reality. The question then becomes which silat, taught how, for whom. Effectiveness cannot be judged without looking at the type of training and the people in front of you. Pretending every class must look like hard combat, or that every class must stay purely formal, misses this.

Resources sit at the centre of the dilemma. Safe intense training needs mats, protective gear, space, and time. Those things cost money. Yet the moment fees are mentioned the old refrain appears. Teaching silat must be ikhlas. Student numbers drop when payment is requested. So the instructor is left choosing between under equipped classes that cannot safely push realism, or sustainable classes that invite accusations of commercialising the art. Segmentation is one practical response. Tradition has its place, sport silat has its place, applied fighting and sparring have theirs. Sparring will involve clinching, scrambling, and contact. Insisting on formal adab language inside every sparring session often creates confusion rather than clarity. Separating the contexts allows each to be trained properly instead of forcing everything into one mould that satisfies no one.

Modernisation brings its own friction. When some of us rebrand or restructure material for seminars, combining what we were permitted to share by our teachers with complementary systems while keeping full lineage transmission separate, the reaction from certain quarters is predictable. It is labelled “silat ala Barat,” “no adab,” or “not real.” The intention was often the opposite. To avoid casually giving sanad to people who have not earned it, while still making useful training accessible. Behind the scenes the comments still travel. Many of the louder traditional objections come from an older generation whose assumptions have not adjusted to how people actually live and train today. Concepts such as “silat is not for showing off” make marketing and recruitment almost impossible. “Don’t charge properly” leaves teachers asking how they are supposed to eat. “Deadly techniques only on dummies” is sensible, yet it sits beside the claim that gym work or fitness is unnecessary. These positions protect certain ideas, but they also limit who can sustain a school and who can train consistently.

The sport and modern side carries its own problems. Treating competition experience as automatic self defence knowledge ignores how specific drills build reaction under pressure. Opening schools without lineage or clear principles becomes easy. Following only a federation syllabus can push a perguruan’s own curriculum to the side until students are overloaded with material that does not belong to their school. Traditional structures function in a way like a second layer of verification. Without some filter, schools appear quickly after every trend and the quality varies wildly. The difficulty is that the filter is often applied rigidly while the practical needs of students and instructors are treated as secondary.

What might help is less purity and more cooperation. Schools without facilities can partner with those that have them. Instructors strong in business can run seminars that also cover sustainability. Teachers who do not focus on weapons can send students to those who do. Sport practitioners can spend time with the artistic and traditional sides, and vice versa. The ecosystem becomes more stable when people stop treating every other approach as a threat. Talent for higher level competition, including MMA, can still be identified inside that broader base. The obstacle is familiar. Most people are not ready to invest money or time without a clear personal return. Parents ask what the benefit is. Professional fighters under sponsorship train far more consistently than the average pesilat who manages one or two sessions a week. Everything eventually returns to resources and realistic expectations.

Silat does not have to choose between dying as a pure but unsustainable tradition or becoming a diluted activity that loses its character. It does have to accept that instructors operate under real constraints of safety, money, time, and community judgment, and that different segments of training can coexist without one cancelling the other. The crossroads is uncomfortable precisely because both the traditional warnings and the modern pressures contain valid points. Navigating it requires more conversation and less assumption that the other side is simply lazy, greedy, or ignorant. For those of us actually running classes, the daily question remains practical. How do we train people usefully, keep them reasonably safe, sustain the school, and still recognise the art we were given? The answers will not be perfect. They rarely are. But they are better found in open discussion than in quiet frustration.

Bird’s eye view

1. Build loose alliances between perguruans so schools with mats, space or protective gear can share them with schools that do not have those things. A few places already do informal student exchanges. Making it more normal would reduce the pressure on every single guru to own every piece of equipment.
2. Agree on clearer categories of training that the community can recognise. Something like traditional forms and adab in one stream, sport silat in another, and applied or security focused work in a third. When the categories are named and accepted, people stop treating every class as if it must satisfy every standard at once.
3. Create a shared basic safety standard that different groups can adapt. Not a heavy rulebook, just simple points on protective gear for sparring, progressive introduction of throws, and what should stay on dummies. If enough teachers use the same language, parents and new students hear less contradiction.
4. Run joint business and marketing sessions for instructors. Many older gurus never learned how to talk about fees, recruitment or sustainability without feeling they are breaking tradition. Short practical workshops on pricing, simple online presence and explaining value could reduce the “ikhlas means free” pressure.
5. Protect lineage while opening commercial doors. Keep full sanad and deeper transmission inside the perguruan, and treat seminars or short courses as separate products that do not automatically give lineage. When this distinction is clear and repeated, the “sold out” accusation loses some force.

Ground level

1. Split your own classes into clear tracks from the start. One track stays closer to traditional movement and etiquette. Another is more applied or sparring focused. Students choose or move between them. This stops you from having to defend every session against every criticism at the same time.
2. Charge a modest, transparent fee and explain exactly what it covers. Mats, gear replacement, hall rental, your time. Some people will still complain. Others will accept it once they see the number is not random and the class is safer because of it.
3. Use controlled tools for the dangerous parts. Dummies, slow progressive drills, and clear stop signals for throws or neck related work. You can still show the technique exists and how it works without putting students in hospital. Most adult students in security work care more about relevance than full contact chaos.
4. Partner with one or two other teachers for the things you do not cover. Send your students to a weapons person for a module, or host a sport silat instructor for a few sessions. You keep your core teaching and students still get wider exposure without you having to become everything.
5. Start very small collaborations instead of waiting for big unity. Share one seminar, swap a few students for a month, or run a joint open day. These small moves cost less time and money than full alliances, and they show other instructors that working together does not mean losing their own school.

None of these remove the tension completely. They just make the practical problems smaller so the art can keep moving without every guru having to solve the whole community’s issues alone.

Do I need to be fit to learn silat?

You don’t have to be in perfect shape, super confident, or even sure you’ll stick with it to walk through the door. Most people who start training feel the same mix of “I should do this” and “What if I look stupid or get hurt?” That sorta hesitation is normal. The only thing that usually separates the ones who end up feeling stronger and more alive is that they showed up once, then a few more times, even when it still felt a little awkward.

Training isn’t about turning into some unstoppable version of yourself overnight. It’s about moving your body, learning something new, and being around people who are doing the same. Some days you’ll feel sharp. Other days you’ll just be glad you came. Both count. The cool part is that once you get past the first few sessions, the stuff that felt hard or intimidating usually starts to feel familiar nd a little fun via drills.

If you’ve been thinking about it, even half-heartedly, come try a class. No pressure to commit to anything big. Just show up, move, and see how it feels. Bring your questions, your doubts, and your normal self. We’ll take it from there. 

Making change feel doable usually comes down to shrinking the first step instead of trying to overhaul everything at once. You don’t need to train five days a week or nail every technique right away which is to start with one class, one short session, or even just showing up and watching if that feels easier. Most people find that once the “I have to be ready” pressure drops, it gets a lot simpler to walk in, move a little, and see what happens next.

Come try it that way.

Contact me 85876982

Malaysian Branch officially takes off.

Alhamdulillah, congrats to Team Malaysia for successfully securing the contract to bring Tactical Silat Kali training to KL! Sebagai team kecil di Singapura, kita juga terus bergerak pantas, mengembangkan sayap dengan penuh semangat dan ketabahan, memperluaskan program urban self-defense untuk para warrior berumur lebih 40 tahun yang ingin membina minda kalem, adaptive, dan protection yang etikal. Dengan integrasi neurology-informed coaching, Chakra V Silat, dan kekuatan holistic dari osteopathy serta fitness, kita membuktikan bahawa saiz tidak menentukan impak, semangat juang dan barakah yang sama terus menyatukan kita merentasi sempadan. Mari kita sokong satu sama lain, terus maju, dan bina komuniti pejuang yang lebih kuat. InsyaAllah!

My student Wan (in white) representing TSK-KL

Certified Personal Trainer - NCSF

The knowledge gained through NCSF certification further strengthens my ability to integrate functional fitness, physical conditioning, injury prevention, and movement efficiency into both OMT practice and martial arts training. By combining modern exercise science with traditional Silat principles, I aim to help individuals develop greater strength, resilience, mobility, and overall well-being...

Principle of adaptation

Setelah berhasil meraih ilmu Physical Fitness Trainer- NASM saya mempelajari beberapa hal yang dapat di applikasikan ke coaching di konteks silat. Dalam konteks sains sukan/sport-science, Saya tertarik dengan beberapa hal dan akan saya bagikan ilmunya sedikit sebanyak (one-by-one) yang kali ini membahas basicnya terlebih dahulu.. yakni Principle of Adaptation.  

 "Principle of adaptation" merujuk kepada keupayaan tubuh untuk menyesuaikan diri terhadap tekanan latihan secara berperingkat. Setiap rangsangan sama ada fizikal, neuromuskular, atau kognitif akan mencetuskan perubahan apabila dilakukan secara konsisten dan terkawal. Tubuh tidak berubah secara rawak tetapi mengikut apa yang dilatih. Oleh itu, konsep seperti kekhususan latihan, peningkatan beban, dan pemulihan menjadi asas penting. Tanpa rangsangan yang sesuai, tiada adaptasi berlaku. Tanpa pemulihan yang mencukupi, adaptasi tidak sempat terbentuk.

Dalam silat, prinsip ini perlu diterjemahkan secara praktikal dan bukan sekadar teori. Latihan bukan hanya tentang kekuatan tetapi tentang bagaimana tubuh belajar bergerak dengan efisien dalam konteks sebenar seperti jarak, masa, keseimbangan, dan kesedaran situasi. Latihan ulangan membantu membina jalur saraf supaya respons menjadi lebih automatik. Latihan berperingkat pula memastikan tubuh mampu menyesuaikan diri tanpa kecederaan. Latihan berpasangan yang terkawal memperkenalkan tekanan secara realistik dan membolehkan pesilat mengurus stres tanpa kehilangan struktur. Adaptasi dalam silat bermaksud menjadi lebih tenang, lebih tepat, dan lebih menjimatkan pergerakan.

Kesilapan yang sering berlaku ialah terlalu mengejar intensiti tanpa memahami proses. Ramai yang ingin cepat mahir lalu mengabaikan asas dan memaksa tubuh melebihi kapasiti semasa. Kesan akhirnya bukan peningkatan tetapi keletihan berpanjangan, kecederaan, dan prestasi yang tidak stabil. Adaptasi sebenar memerlukan kesabaran dan disiplin melalui rangsangan yang betul, diikuti pemulihan yang mencukupi, kemudian diulang dengan peningkatan yang bijak. Dalam silat, matlamatnya bukan sekadar mampu bertahan hari ini tetapi memastikan tubuh dan kemahiran terus berkembang untuk jangka panjang.

1. Build the Base (Control & Structure First)
Mulakan dengan pergerakan asas seperti stance, footwork, dan positioning. Fokus pada keseimbangan, pernafasan, dan alignment sebelum kelajuan atau kuasa. Tubuh perlu faham bentuk yang betul dahulu sebelum tekanan ditambah.

2. Apply Progressive Stress (Tambah Tekanan Berperingkat)
Naikkan cabaran secara beransur seperti menambah kelajuan, resistance, atau variasi serangan. Elakkan lonjakan mendadak. Prinsipnya mudah, sedikit lebih mencabar dari biasa, bukan terus maksimum.

3. Integrate Realistic Context (Latihan Situasi Terkawal)
Masukkan drill berpasangan dan sparring ringan untuk bina adaptasi terhadap tekanan sebenar. Kawal intensiti supaya pelajar boleh belajar membaca situasi, bukan sekadar survive.

4. Recover and Repeat (Pemulihan & Konsistensi)
Berikan ruang untuk pemulihan supaya adaptasi berlaku. Ulang latihan secara konsisten dengan penambahbaikan kecil setiap sesi. Tanpa recovery, tiada peningkatan sebenar.

Inti:
Latih dengan struktur, tingkatkan secara bijak, uji dalam konteks, dan ulang dengan disiplin

Buah Pukul concept in training

Buah pukul is a core concept in Silat (which I normally loosely wrote as "applied silat" for ease of refrence) that refers to a pre arranged combative pattern. It is a compact sequence of attacks counters and finishes designed for very close range. Buah means a form or fruit something complete and pukul means strike. So buah pukul is a complete striking solution for a specific situation...

In practice buah pukul is not choreography for fighting and not meant to be performed exactly as shown in real life. It functions as a training container. Each sequence compresses timing angles body mechanics intent and tactical ideas such as entering safely controlling balance damaging structure and exiting fast. This is why many buah look unrealistic if taken literally. Their value is in what they train not what they display.

From a functional perspective buah pukul develops reflexes sensitivity and decision making under pressure especially in confined spaces. This is why it fits well with close quarters combat concepts where movement is limited contact is sudden and techniques rely on off balancing elbows head control sweeps and quick finishes. You are training how to think and move when there is no room not memorising a fight.

Traditionally a single buah can be expanded or compressed depending on context. One movement may contain a strike a lock a break or a throw. Advanced practitioners do not perform the buah as a fixed sequence but extract principles such as timing angle structure and intent. Once these are internalised the buah disappears and spontaneous response takes over.

In short buah pukul is a drill not a promise of reality. It is a method to encode efficiency into the nervous system so when chaos happens the body already knows what to do.

Why Calm Training Builds Real Confidence

 Many believed confidence comes from intensity. In reality, intensity often hides uncertainty.

True confidence is calm. It shows up as clear breathing under pressure, steady posture when pushed, and the ability to choose restraint instead of panic.

Traditional martial training understood this long before psychology gave it names. The body must feel safe before it can act decisively. When training is rushed, overly aggressive, or ego-driven, the nervous system learns stress .. not skill.

My teacher emphasizes controlled contact, progressive learning, and awareness. Students are encouraged to feel first, then act. Mistakes are part of training, not something to be punished.

Over time, this creates a quiet confidence that carries into daily life: at work, in conflict, in uncertainty. Not because one wants to fight but because one knows they don’t have to.

Self-defence is not about becoming dangerous. It is about becoming harder to disturb.