- Vincent Giordano
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
In Yala province, 500 miles south of Bangkok, lies a village that’s renowned for preserving the ancient art of kris making. The kris (also spelled keris or krit) is a distinctively shaped dagger that’s both a weapon and a spiritual object with numerous myths and superstitions attached to it.
The origins of the kris aren’t clear, but we do know that the modern version of the weapon has existed since the mid-14th century. It likely originated in East Java, where it was derived from an older style of blade, possibly one of Hindu origin.
The kris eventually spread from Java to other parts of the Indonesian archipelago and then to the Southeast Asian regions now known as Malaysia, Brunei, the Philippines, Thailand and Singapore.
Martial Arts Mecca
Thailand has fostered the development of an array of arts, but unfortunately it’s only the indigenous ones that attract attention from scholars. For example, the region boasts many forms of silat — which the Thais call sila — that grew from the martial traditions of Malaysia and Indonesia, but few foreigners have heard of them.
One needs to travel all the way to the southernmost tip of Thailand to find the cradle of the kris. Yala and its neighboring provinces have long held a Muslim majority, with close to 70 percent of the population being Malay-speaking Muslims and the remainder Thai and Thai-Chinese Buddhists. In the past decade, this region has lived under a blanket of fear because of an anti-government insurgency that’s claimed the lives of more than 4,000 people of both religions.
As of yet, no military official or insurgent leader has tried to prevent the people of Yala from making kris knives even though production is technically illegal. Perhaps it’s because the code of conduct adhered to by the craftsmen keeps the blades from falling into the hands of those who would use them for illicit purposes.
The tradition of kris making was nearly lost for a generation when World War II saw Thailand’s military field marshal ban it outright. His goal was to impose Thai culture on the region, and his “solution” involved prohibiting residents from wearing Malay sarongs, speaking the local language and fabricating kris.
The citizens of Yala were upset because they regarded the kris as part of their culture. Their love of the blade stemmed from their first exposure to it some 300 years ago when the then-governor invited a renowned Indonesian bladesmith named Toe Panaesarah to craft a special kris for his village.
In those days, it was customary for high-ranked officials to wear an ornate kris at ceremonies and functions — as a symbol of power. They would often offer a kris as a token of friendship when a dignitary would visit and when an ordinary citizen did a good deed for the community.
Once that special kris was received by the governor, it grew in reputation and was eventually dubbed the Kris Panaesarah. Its maker went on to teach the locals how to fashion different styles of the weapon. What made his method stand out was his mastery of pattern welding, known as pamor.
Considered the genesis of the blade’s spirit, pattern welding entails combining various metals in layers, then applying heat to bond them and using acid to highlight the boundaries between the layers. The master’s knowledge of pattern welding and blade craftsmanship was so extensive it was recorded in The Panaesarah Book of the Kris.
Thai Transformation
One hundred years later, the heads of the Thai village organized a competition designed to find the finest kris in the southern provinces. Among the tests the candidates were subjected to was shattering a thick earthenware jar filled with water. Only the knives of Bun Dai Sara’s clan passed the test, earning the family the respect and admiration of the entire region.
Sara’s popularity and stature in the community rose as a result, and the governor of the province selected him to craft his personal kris. The master also was tasked with training a new generation of artisans who could not only make the weapons but also wield them in combat.
A modern descendant of this lineage is Teeparee Atabu. This former farmer began studying the art of the kris under Tuan Bukut Long Saree and remained with him until he died in 2004.
While Atabu maintains a deep respect for tradition and follows the rules of conduct to which his ancestors adhered, he embraces a more open attitude designed to ensure this martial treasure will survive. That’s why he agreed to share with me — and, indirectly, with Black Belt readers — the details of his art.
When Atabu is about to create a kris, he first must pick the appropriate time to begin. This is because the kris and each component that goes into it are imbued with symbolism. The next step is to determine the desired blade shape, either straight or curved. The straight blade is the older design and the more common one, while the curved blade is more iconic. Mythologically speaking, the straight blade symbolizes a serpent in meditation and the wavy blade a serpent in motion, Atabu explained.
The other components of the kris are the hilt and sheath. The most important hilt to originate from the Yala region is the tajong. Regarded as one of the most powerful versions, it’s often seen on warrior weapons. The tajong evolved from an early Shiva-influenced design to one that resembles a bird (said to be the kingfisher), betraying its Hindu and Majapahit influences.
The goal of the craftsman, Atabu said, is to ensure that the hilt is beautiful as well as functional — which is why the carved head must fit snugly in the palm of the hand much like the grip of a pistol.
In the Bun Dai Sara lineage, the sheath of the kris is large and sturdy. That’s because the fighting system includes techniques for simultaneously using both sheath and blade in battle. The sheath has a long, rounded body and is often covered with silver or gold. It can have a sapay, a “sheath wing” crosspiece with upward-curving ends.
On average, it takes a month to craft a kris, Atabu said. Two weeks are devoted to the hilt, one week to the sheath and one week to the blade.
Fighting Functionality
The term “kris” is believed to come from an old Javanese word that means “to stab” or “to pierce.” That etymology reveals much about the way the kris is used in combat — primarily as a close-range thrusting weapon.
The sinuous nature of the blade enables it to do maximum damage to soft tissue while permitting the user to easily remove it from an enemy’s body. The techniques for doing this are practiced with a live blade because it’s believed this teaches not only proper mechanics but also respect for the weapon.
Atabu guides his students through a carefully constructed course of study that lasts two years. They begin with isolated footwork patterns and the ram kris, the dances that hold the key to unlocking the complicated patterns of movement and strategy. This enables them to assimilate not only the techniques of the kris but also the intricacies of the culture.
In the past, the ram kris was performed at important social gatherings. The display of the practitioners’ skill at dance, as well as their ability with the blade, served to entertain and attract new students. In modern times, the ram kris is viewed mostly as a component of the martial art — although it still can be seen at special community events.
That exposure helps ensure that the kris will remain an important part of life in Thailand’s Yala province, providing residents with an invaluable link to their past. The fact that the knife lineage and the art that accompanies it have taken hold in neighboring Pattani, Narathiwat and Songkhla provinces serves as reassurance to the martial arts world that this treasure won’t be lost any time soon.
Photography by Vincent Giordano
