My father was a blacksmith. He was the very first blacksmith of Basilan. - [Erwan] Forged in fire, culture, and time-honored traditions,
every sword tells a story. And if Filipino-made knives
could talk, they would speak volumes
about the indigenous traditions, foreign influences,
regional diversity in the country's rich history
with unparalleled sharpness. In the time before colonization,
our ancestors had their own methods
of crafting blades. These early sword makers
often referred to as "pandays" utilized local materials
and techniques to create tools and weapons
for their communities. Distinctly made,
these weapons reflect the needs and heritage
of various ethnic groups all over the Philippines. When the Spanish first set foot
on our shores in 1521, they brought with them
new ideas and technologies, evolving how
we worked metal locally. Since we are archipelagic,
every place or indigenous community developed its own
iconic sword making styles. This is apparent
in how the Moro people in the southern Philippines
forged the legendary Kris with its wavy blades
in intricate form similar to some blades
you might in northern Borneo. Naturally, asides
from agriculture, swords were created
for use in battle. Warfare played a crucial role
in curving their shapes. With the need for effective weapons
leading to the refinement of their techniques. Every piece had
to be functional, durable, and balanced. These weapons would also
become symbols of power, prestige, and cultural identity. Here's the rundown
of some of the Filipino knives and swords that
our ancestors invented for various uses. The Bolo, a Spanish term
that generally refers to bladed weapons. Bolos are used as chopping knives
like a machete or an agricultural tool. This became popular
during the Spanish-American war as Filipino battalions
wielded it against conquerors. Andres Bonifacio,
one of our national heroes and the founder of Katipunan,
led the 1896 revolt against the Spanish
with the Bolo in hand. Today, it is still used extensively
as a farming and cooking tool
throughout Luzon and the Visayas. Most recognized
for its leaf-shaped blade, the short, single-edged Barong
was used for slashing in close-quarters combat
among Tausug, Yakan, and Samal warriors. The Kris' wavy blade
makes it stand out among the other weapons. With supernatural connotations
in Malayan culture, the Kris was used
by tribal warriors for thrusting and slashing. An executioner's sword,
the "Talibong" weighs heavier than most Filipino swords due
to its double-curved blade and overall length
of about 45 inches. You can imagine the damage
this can serve. Made for chopping,
the "Panabas" features a wide metal blade
that's reminiscent of a hybrid between an axe
and a sword. Popular among the Moro people
of Mindanao and the Sulu Archipelago. One of the traditional swords
still issued to the Philippine
military special forces, the 'Ginunting,'
which means "scissors" uses a thin
and lightweight blade ideal for close-quarters combat
and navigating thick jungle terrain. Through time,
Filipino blacksmiths hone their crafts
and passed down their knowledge
from one generation to the next. Although traditional swordsmiths
have diminished in number today,
some masters vowed to continue the legacy
and strived to preserve this ancient art
so that the beauty and history of Filipino swords
will never be forgotten. During our trip to Basilan,
we met a second generation blacksmith
with a unique story to tell. - I'm Datu Halun Asakil. I have been a swordsmith
in Basilan for 59 years. To this day, I continue practicing this craft and I’ll continue to do so as long as I live. I became a teacher
for many years. I've been a teacher
for 36 years. When I turned 60, I decided to retire and return to my father’s greatest inheritance to me – making swords. - How much
is one kilo of this? - [Datu] Php350. We use up to two sacks of these every day. This generates wind in that direction. These are made of coconut husks. This is how we start making swords by forging metal. My dad didn't have
a livelihood before. He was alone. So he started making it
around 1940s, before World War II. We weren't born
at that time yet. We're purely Joloano,
both my father and mother. My father was a stow-away when he went to Basilan. If we're mentioning the past,
his cousin is Princess Tarhata. It means we were descended from Datus from royalty, like the ones from Lanao. When you’re from Lanao or Maguindanao and you come from royalty it means you’re affluent. We are royal by blood. When he returned here,
he didn't have anything the only thing he could think of was starting his own ‘pandayan’ or blacksmith workshop. This one that I’m making looks like an eagle. Once you're used to this,
there's no age limit anymore. (laughs) I helped my father at a young age until I gradually learned to do it myself. After that, little by little,
my knowledge grew in crafting blades. Whenever he made swords, I was there so I thought maybe I should start honing my skills in the craft too. I could make the sword into whatever I wanted That's when it started. When you’re starting out as a swordsmith It's quite challenging. Fire is your enemy, and you will be drenched in sweat and fatigue. But after you get used to it, none of it will matter to you. Look at me, I’m very old, but none of that bothers me. There, you can see the blade forming! The Pirah and Barong
they're using really came from Jolo. Those swords were used in warfare for self-defense. The Muslims call it ‘Pakupos.’ When you don't need it as a weapon,
you wear it as an accessory around your waist This ‘Barong’ was left to me by my father. He said this is a family heirloom which came from Jolo. The original owners
of this Barong were warriors of the past. This one I'm holding now
is the Barong that came from Jolo. This is an heirloom
of the Asakil family of Jolo, Sulu. When my father left, he brought this to Basilan. The age of this Barong
is already more than 100 years old. Almost 200 years. But it's still here. This Barong
has already taken many lives because this is what Joloans used
during the war. When I was still in high school, I would be absent from time to time just so I could help my father He was on his own because my siblings have already finished school in far-off places and didn’t really help him. As for me, I never left my father’s side from the start. I just couldn’t leave him because I love him so much. He was my parent. Even when I was studying, I would ditch class just so I could assist him. Out of 12 siblings Eight of us finished school
and became professionals because of my father’s artisanship as a
‘Panday’ or blacksmith. This is how we honor and remember him. - [Erwan] With hands strong enough
to pound metal for hours on end, he carves out
a name for himself and continues
his father's legacy. A son humbly honoring
his father in the best way he knows how.
