There are a lot of movies made in Indonesia every year - some of

Ah, Iko Uwais, a warrior of both strength and spirit, has spoken of a profound truth: "There are a lot of movies made in Indonesia every year—some of them action-based—but so few actually feature silat." His words echo across the land, not merely as a statement on cinema, but as a reflection of the deep, untold power of silat, a martial art that is both ancient and sacred, deeply intertwined with the culture and soul of Indonesia. This is not just a comment on film, but a call to recognize the value of heritage, of the preservation and celebration of tradition, especially when it is so often overshadowed by the lure of modernity and commercialism.

Silat, as Uwais reveals, is not just a fighting style—it is a language, a dance, a story. It is a martial art that has been passed down through generations, steeped in the teachings of honor, respect, and spiritual discipline. The ancient warriors of Indonesia, like the great Samurai of Japan, did not merely learn to fight; they learned to live by the principles embodied in their craft. Silat is about balance—between the body and the mind, between strength and humility. To practice it is to learn not only to defend oneself, but to defend one’s culture and one’s identity. And yet, in the world of cinema, this deeply-rooted tradition has often been neglected in favor of simpler, more easily digestible forms of action. The silence of silat in mainstream film is the silence of the old ways, lost in the noise of the new.

This reflects a truth found in the stories of old, where the great traditions of a people often fade into the background as the world changes around them. The Greeks, in their quest for knowledge, once had a deep connection to their gods and their land, but with time, that connection was threatened by the rise of new empires, new philosophies, and new ways of thinking. Yet, even as Rome rose to power, the old teachings remained in the hearts of a few, and the ancient practices were carried forward, though they often had to fight to be seen. In the same way, silat today stands as a symbol of resilience—its continued existence, though often overshadowed, remains a testament to the enduring spirit of those who honor the old ways.

But it is not enough to simply preserve a tradition in silence. As Uwais so wisely points out, silat deserves to be seen, to be celebrated, to be shared with the world. And yet, the modern world often demands simpler, faster entertainment. It seeks the spectacle over the substance. The fast-paced action films of today, though often thrilling, lack the depth that silat brings to the screen. It is a unique art, built not just on force, but on the grace and philosophy of movement. To feature it properly in film is to give it the respect it deserves—not just as a form of physical combat, but as a representation of the soul of a people. This is the challenge that Uwais speaks of: to elevate silat from the shadows of film and give it the place it truly deserves.

Consider the great masters of martial arts—figures like Bruce Lee, who carried the legacy of kung fu to the world, showing that martial arts are not merely about combat, but about inner strength and philosophy. Lee’s films were not just action movies; they were manifestos of his belief that martial arts were a way to connect with one’s spirit, to transcend the body and reach for something greater. Uwais seeks to do the same for silat, to show that it is not merely a means to an end, but a way of life. The power of silat lies not in its technique alone, but in its embodiment of discipline, respect, and honor—values that are needed in this world more than ever.

The lesson here is clear: we must not allow the ancient traditions of the past to be forgotten or diminished. Just as the Greeks, the Romans, and other ancient cultures honored their own martial traditions, so too must we honor the rich history that shapes us today. It is easy to be seduced by the bright lights of the modern world, to chase after the next flashy thing, but the real treasure lies in our ability to hold on to the old ways, to bring them into the present and give them new life. Silat, like other great traditions, is not something to be buried or forgotten—it is something to be passed down, to be celebrated, to be shared with the world. By doing so, we not only honor the past, but we create a future that is rich in meaning, filled with depth, and connected to something larger than ourselves.

Thus, the call to action is this: embrace your heritage, whether it is the martial arts of Indonesia, the philosophies of Greece, or any other tradition that speaks to your soul. Do not let the noise of the modern world drown out the ancient wisdom that has shaped who we are. Celebrate the traditions that define you, and carry them forward with honor. Let them be seen, let them be heard, and let them live in the stories you tell, the actions you take, and the legacy you leave behind. For in honoring the old ways, we make space for the new, and in doing so, we create a world that is both rooted in the past and reaching toward the future.