- George Chung
- Feb 25
- 7 min read
Most modern martial artists know about muay Thai, the combat sport of Thailand. Most also know about muay boran, its no-nonsense parent art.
Few, however, know about pradal serey. This fighting system hails from the same part of the world—namely, Southeast Asia—but its practice isn't nearly as widespread as muay Thai's and its role in history isn't nearly as celebrated as muay boran's.
Here is the story of this unsung style.
BEGINNINGS
Pradal Serey (also spelled bradal serey) traces its origins to the Khmer Empire, which lasted from 802 to 1431. Khmer territories encompassed parts of modern-day Vietnam, Thailand, Laos, and Myanmar.
During that period, the system was known as Khmer boran and kun boran.
Roughly translated, those terms meant “ancient Cambodian fighting arts.” Physical evidence of pradal serey can be found in the form of carvings in Banteay Chhmar Temple, which was constructed in the late 12th century.
On its walls, bas-relief artwork depicts figures engaged in combat using instantly recognizable knee and elbow strikes.
Modern martial scholars have identified Khmer influences in several Southeast Asian styles, mostly in the form of technical similarities between pradal serey and Thai and Burmese boxing.
That’s led them to postulate that pradal serey, also called Khmer kickboxing, was the primary precursor to muay boran as well as muay Thai—and possibly other arts.
DETAILS
These days in Cambodia, pradal serey is usually translated as “free-style fighting.” The moniker reflects the limited-rules and high-intensity nature of the art, especially in competition.
In its early form, strikes that used any part of the hands, feet, shins, knees, and elbows were legal. But that’s not all. Head butts also were allowed, and they often brought spectacular results.
To spice up the striking game of pradal serey practitioners, clinch fighting also was permitted— as were tripping techniques, sweeps, and takedowns, many of which were executed from the tie-up position. And in true PRIDE fashion, kicking a downed opponent was not only legal but also encouraged.
In its heyday, practitioners of pradal serey wrapped their hands with coarse rope. They would then coat the rope with glue or tree sap, to which they affixed seashell shards. The bloody bouts that ensued technically could go for five rounds, but few lasted past the first.
To mark the duration of a match, a standard stick of incense was burned. The smell of the incense—coupled with stifling heat and traditional music played on drums, reed flutes, and finger chimes—served to amp up the furor at fights.
VENUES
Pradal serey warriors fought in large pits dug into the earth. There were no referees to intervene when the going got tough. However, a monk was usually stationed nearby to give the Buddhist equivalent of last rites in case a death occurred—which was not unheard of in those days. Reportedly, they also positioned a coffin at ringside.
Strengthening the somber nature of the full-contact bouts, the combatants would enter the ring while funeral music played. The dirges signified that these might be the final acts of the fighters. In essence, their ritualized walk into the pit was both their entrance and their funeral in the event of death in battle.
This macabre atmosphere did not go unnoticed for long.
When Cambodia became part of the Indochinese Union in the late 19th century, the French viewed pradal serey matches as highly entertaining but barbaric and unnecessarily dangerous.
Unlike colonial powers in other countries, however, the French didn’t seek to outlaw the art. They implemented standardized rules, rounds, and weight classes, and they made sure bouts took place in a Western boxing ring.
They also required athletes to wear Western boxing gloves. Thus, pradal serey, once a deadly fighting art, became Cambodian boxing, modern combat sport.
LOSSES
During the upheaval of the Vietnam War (1955-1975), Cambodia succumbed to its own civil war. On April 17, 1975, the communist Khmer Rouge led by Pol Pot overthrew the Khmer Republic. Thirteen days later, Saigon fell, officially ending the Vietnam War, yet the killings in Cambodia continued. In fact, they accelerated.
To prevent his people from potentially organizing a revolt against the Khmer Rouge, Pol Pot ordered executions for all who were educated—doctors, lawyers, teachers, and so on—as well as those who had ties to the prior government. Essentially, anyone who could read or who might, possibly, oppose the Khmer Rouge was killed.
A casualty of Pol Pot's war was that all martial arts were outlawed. Not just outlawed. All pradal serey practitioners, fighters, and trainers would be put to death. No one knows how many lost their lives between 1975 and 1979, when the regime murdered an estimated 2.5 million people in the infamous “killing fields.”
Many of those who managed to escape this death sentence perished in work camps.
Not until the Vietnamese overthrew the Khmer Rouge in 1979 did Cambodia begin the slow, painful process of recovering from the atrocities.
SAVIOR
From 1963 to 1975, perhaps the most dominant pradal serey champion in Cambodia was Oumry Ban.
His first professional fight—there was no such thing as an amateur division back then—took place in 1960 when he was 16. He went on to amass a record of 309 fights, with 278 victories and 200 knockouts.
His masterful use of the clinch, in combination with his brutal knee and elbow techniques, were the stuff of legend.
Ban proved so talented he wound up competing in three weight classes: bantamweight, lightweight, and welterweight. He won the championship belt in the lightweight and welterweight divisions.
Ban didn't hesitate when he was asked to try his luck in heavier weight classes because, being a practical man, he knew the purses were larger. He also knew that many fighters his size were unwilling to step into the ring with the legendary Ban.
When the Khmer Rouge rose to power, Ban knew he'd be targeted for execution because of his fame in the ring, which stemmed from having so many of his matches broadcast on the radio. Many fans knew of his prowess as a prizefighter, but few knew his face.
That visual anonymity afforded him the time he needed to avoid capture and eventually escape Cambodia in 1978. His mother, sister, and two brothers weren't so fortunate.
As he would later learn, they lost their lives to the Khmer Rouge.
After escaping a refugee camp in Vietnam and spending some time in the Philippines, Ban made his way to the United States in 1987. He took up residence in Long Beach, California, and opened the gym he still runs.
Trivia note: not only was it the first pradal serey school in the United States, but it also predated the first Muay Thai gym in America by four months.
TECHNIQUES
Ban is forthcoming when asked about the techniques of pradal serey. He explains that the art teaches eight “doors,” each of which represents a part of a limb, and that each of those has eight techniques associated with it.
Furthermore, each punch, elbow, kick, and knee strike in the system has eight possible angles of attack—which makes for incredible variety, especially when a fighter starts thinking about combinations.
Pradal serey and muay Thai have much in common, Ban says. Both arts use kicking and punching, in addition to knees and elbows. The clinch is heavily used in both arts, too.
So what makes pradal serey different from other forms of Southeast Asian kickboxing? While there are many nuances and subtleties unique to the art, what really sets Cambodian boxing apart is its focus on fighting from the inside at close range and its implementation of the clinch, Ban says.
In contrast, Thai boxing focuses more on kicking and the outside range. It's less concerned with the inside range than Cambodian boxing is.
“In a Thai gym, you learn to kick first,” Ban says, “but in a Cambodian gym, you learn to punch and elbow first.”
Elbows play a prominent role in pradal serey, and they're always used to inflict maximum damage. An elbow strike can fly in from virtually any angle. One of the most common is the vertical elbow strike, which travels from 12 o'clock to 6 o'clock. The targets include the face, head, and collarbone, which is known to break under the power of the pradal serey elbow.
The horizontal elbow is thrown in the same manner as a punch—with a twist of the hips to maximize power. “In a fight, I don't want to just cut my opponent with my elbows,” Ban says. “I want to cut them and knock them out!”
ROUND KICK
Another unique facet of pradal serey is the way practitioners execute the round kick. They keep their knee bent throughout the technique and make contact with their shin. This creates a tremendous amount of force because of the rotation of the hip, which is augmented by the rotation of the body.
Together, they generate more power than would result from simply snapping the leg out to full extension.
Because the leg remains bent, the round kick can more easily target an opponent to the front. The power of the technique is projected forward through that opponent, as opposed to traveling in from the side. This ensures greater penetration and a more destructive move, Ban says.
The final advantage of the pradal serey round kick results from the bent knee permitting the technique to strike a much closer opponent. That means the kick can be used to bridge the gap from kicking range to clinch range, where pradal serey rules the roost. In some styles of kickboxing, practitioners drop one or both hands when they kick because they think of the leg as a long-range weapon.
Needless to say, that can be problematic.
Pradal serey avoids this pitfall by teaching students to keep both hands up—to protect against their own art's round kick as well as any other art's hand and elbow moves.
Fringe benefit: when you keep both hands up, those hands are closer to your opponent's head and neck. That allows them to be used more quickly and effectively in the clinch, Ban says.
WHAT-IFS
Clearly, pradal serey is a unique, effective, and beautiful art. One can only guess how popular it would be if more practitioners had survived the Khmer Rouge butchery. If Cambodian martial artists had spread this piece of their culture to the world. If the voices, teachings, and wisdom of the art's champions and trainers had not been silenced.
This sad fact makes the knowledge of teachers like Oumry Ban even more valuable—and more sought after. Ban's unofficial status as a living legend of the Cambodian martial arts and a man who's overcome tremendous adversity in his life yet continues to give back to society makes him a treasure.
People like him make the martial arts world a better place.
Written by Marcus Anderson, LaDell Elliott and Tim Becherer
The authors would like to thank Oumry Ban for his help with this article and Dan Inosanto for introducing them to Ban and his art.
