South Dovani

[Wu Han]

Fists of Fury: The Many Dimensions of Muay Hanzai

Muay Hanzai is South Dovani's favourite sport and national pastime. Beneath the spectacle, however, exists an undercurrent of ultranationalism, organized crime, and child exploitation.

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January 5641

By Papao Chutimant

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It is no exaggeration to state that Muay Hanzai is a national obsession. In a country which reveres its traditions and ancestors, every fighter moves according to an ancient rhythm, descended from a lineage of fighters before them. Whereas international styles of boxing typically focus on the fists, Muay Hanzai seeks to transform every limb into a devastating and potentially lethal weapon, for which it was termed the Eight Limb Art by ancient Yingdalan scholars. Most notably, this includes the use of elbows and knees, which are banned in boxing rings throughout the world. Muay Hanzai blends form and ferocity with Daenist ritual and a steadfast code of honour. Or so the common historiography would suggest.

Each year, young hopefuls leave the fields and factories determined to become the next great fighter, and in so doing, bring honour to their families and communities. For poor rural farmers and the urban working class, Muay Hanzai may be the only way to escape poverty. The most talented young amateur fighters can earn within one night what their parents may earn in a year. 

Every morning, Sompong and his fellow trainees run 10 kilometres around the ruins of the ancient Hanzenese capital city of Ayotharam. For thousands of years, Hanzenese soldiers and warriors have trained in the art of hand-to-hand combat within the very palace walls that line Sompong's route. Like the warriors before him, Sompong follows an extremely disciplined exercise routine and diet, all before heading to school. At just 14 years old, Sompong is his family's breadwinner; what he earns in the ring provides all the necessary funds to send himself and his five siblings to school, to pay off his parents' debts, and to put food on the table.

It is estimated that roughly 260,000 minors practice Muay Hanzai in South Dovani, many beginning as young as 5 years old. Child boxing in South Dovani has often attracted the ire of the domestic and international human rights community, but efforts to regulate the practice have routinely failed to materialize. 

For Sompong's parents, training their sons to be Muay Hanzai boxers is not only profitable, but it serves as an alternative to drugs and the ill-gotten gains of gangsterism and criminality, in a rural community where opportunities and prosperity are limited. 

"In our neighbourhood alone, I know of at least 4 sons who have died from heroin," claims Sompong's mother. "Muay Hanzai keeps the boys busy with training, keeping their bodies healthy; they don't have time to get involved with the gangs, the triads, or with their poison." 

Despite the claims of Sompong's mother, however, criminality has found its way into Muay Hanzai, as boxing matches are one of the very few places where gambling is allowed in South Dovani. A polished system of hand signs communicates to a bookmaker the bets and their amounts, in a loud and frenzied atmosphere reminiscent of a stock market trading floor. Some bet their pocket change, others their life savings, but many gamblers act as intermediaries, handling bets from outside the ring via their cellphones and laptops. More recently, online gambling platforms, typically operating out of Dalibor City, offer international gamblers the ability to gamble on fights from local/temple levels to the national level. Some deal in traditional fiat currency, others in cryptocurrency.

▲ Left to right: a child boxer recovers from a fight; gamblers signal their wagers 

Waiting in the wings are loan sharks preying on desperate gamblers, many of whom are associated with triads such as the Tian Long Tong, the White Tigers, and the Wu Mian Hui, depending on which group controls which arena. Organized criminals are also involved in sponsoring young fighters who are, in turn, expected to be loyal to their patrons for the entirety of their fighting career; those who are injured or otherwise unable to continue fighting are often expected to repay their patrons at highly extortionate rates. In one incident which garnered nationwide outcry, a child who had suffered a permanent brain injury at age 9 inside a Muay Hanzai ring, rendering him paralyzed, was executed by his father, who subsequently killed his wife before committing suicide. It was reported that the family had been harassed for months over unpaid debts to a triad-affiliated Muay Hanzai gym for the training of their son.

While elaborate ritual and prayers accompany the beginning of each Muay Hanzai match, as a sport with its origins in folk fighting styles and practiced by everyday villagers of Hanzen, Muay Hanzai is often less about expressing spirituality and more about learning how to be a practical, effective, and dominant fighter. Nevertheless, within the most highly respected schools, such as the one which Sompong attends, honour and the warrior's code are core to the philosophical and spiritual underpinnings of the sport. These training clubs and gyms are connected to martial arts lineages spanning hundreds, if not thousands of years, and are often owned and operated by retired military officers. 

In Sompong's gym, each training day begins with meditation and offering prayers to a prominently displayed portrait of King Khemkhaeng. A banner hoisted above the training mat reads,"Training our bodies to defend the Nation, the Religion, and the King." Pennant banners bearing the colours of the historical Kingdom of Hanzen hang from end to end across the length and width of the gym. 

Despite the fact that South Dovani has been a republic for nearly two centuries, thousands of years of monarchical nationalism are deeply embedded in the practice of Muay Hanzai, which was developed and standardized as a modern sport by Khemkhaeng in the 4700s, though patronized by Kings before him for thousands of years prior. It was through the association with the monarchy that Muay Hanzai was elevated from a bloodsport of farmers and the urban poor, to a venerated martial art practiced by royalty and elite soldiers of the Kingdom of Hanzen.

"The communists attempted to destroy our culture, our traditions, and our Kingdom," said Sompong's coach, retired Army colonel Sarawong Sriwarunyu, "but Muay Hanzai remained, because the people love it, and its values are inherent to what it means to be a virtuous Hanzai man." 

While the Lotus Plan (the official name for the failed cultural mandates issued by communist-era dictator Wasana Chaiyawan) purged universities, religious orders, civil service agencies, the military and the education system of people who held, or were alleged to hold, traditionalist or monarchist sympathies, it was never able to encroach on Muay Hanzai, given its immense popularity as a pastime among the public. As such, Muay Hanzai gyms and clubs remained a refuge and organizing space for nationalist groups and Hanzenese who sought a return to the traditional monarchial form of governance that had governed South Dovani since time immemorial. 

In recent years, reports have emerged that Hanzai nationalist militias, such as the Hanzai Rangers, and other ultranationalist groups have begun training and organizing in Muay Hanzai gyms across the nation in high numbers once again, raising fears among some liberals and progressives that the right-wing is preparing for a revolution similar to the Scarlet Rose Revolution which transformed South Dovani into a republic. 

"Muay Hanzai training operates on two levels – as a propaganda tool and as preparation for armed conflict," explains Tamarine Amornchantanakorn, professor of Gender Studies and Political Science at Khattaya University. "Other martial arts require elements of simulation in matches, whereas Muay Hanzai permits a whole range of kicking, punching, and body blows which are prohibited in most combat sports; it is about as close to the reality of ‘real-world’ hand-to-hand combat as it is possible to get in sport. As such, anti-system groups find it to be useful in preparing for confrontation with the system." 

There is no doubt that Muay Hanzai is a brutal combat sport with little by way of separation between performance and reality, often resulting in devastating injuries. As Sompong prepares for one of the toughest fights of his young career, he remains clear-eyed yet upbeat about the risks, perhaps in an effort to mask the anxiety of competing in a match in which his entire village has made massive wagers, all depending on his success. 

"I could come out a cripple, but so could he!" joked Sompong. "I've seen it happen before – a kid takes a kick to the head and can't walk again. But I'm not scared, I've been trained better."

Tonight, Sompong is facing a 15-year-old boy from a neighbouring village, their match-up a continuation of a centuries-long sporting rivalry between the communities. His coach, Sarawong, seems a bit more concerned than Sompong, though his eyes stay fixed on the current fight: a match-up between two eight-year-old fighters. 

For half a minute, the two young boys drift cautiously around the faded blue mat, trading light taps – a probing kick here, a testing jab there – as they measure each other up. Suddenly, one of the boys bursts forward. He throws a quick punch, misses with the next, and crashes into a clinch. They stagger across the ring locked together, twisting and battling desperately for the space to fire knees into each other’s ribs. In the neutral corner, gamblers shout and throw hand signals with increasingly frenetic energy until a well-timed strike from one of the boys ends the fight in a knock-out. The crowd roars as the defeated child boxer's limp body is carried away by his coach, pouring ice water on him, massaging his body, and stretching his arms just off the mat until he stands on his own once again.

▲ Left to right: two 9-year-old boxers fight; Sompong is prepared for his match by his coach Sarawong

The matches continue without pause, and next to the mat are Sompong and his opponent, Jarunsuk. Both perform the pre-fight rituals before the bell rings. They trade quick jabs and snappy kicks, both eager to prove something but careful not to rush. Then Jarunsuk presses forward, swinging a looping punch that clips Sompong just above the brow. A thin line of red starts to drip, but the 14-year-old barely pauses. Instead, Sompong counters with a burst of energy, sliding inside and dragging the fight into a tight clinch. Knees crash into ribs, arms strain for control, and the younger fighter refuses to give ground despite the blood trickling down his face. He lands a clean knee, then another, forcing the older boy to stumble back.

The crowd surges with noise as the final seconds tick down. When the bell ends the round, Jarunsak looks shaken while Sompong, face bloodied but eyes focused, raises his gloves. The judges don’t take long and Sompong is declared the winner. He is the pride of his community, and their roaring cheers let him know. He is whisked to the locker room by his coach, who cannot contain his joy behind his ordinarily stoic demeanour. He reveals that he bet nearly $6,000 on the match. 

I ask Sompong how he is feeling. He smiles, blood from his brow running into his mouth, tinting his teeth red: "I'm proud to be Hanzai, to be a boxer, and to earn money for my mum."

ขอบฟ้า (Khob Faa; "Horizons") is a Hanzenese monthly magazine featuring long-form journalism, commentary, critique, and essays. It is widely respected as being among the highest quality mass publications in the country. The magazine's readership generally holds liberal or progressive views, and is largely urban and college-educated.