The Truth About Rank in Modern Arnis

People love to ask, “Who are the highest-ranked black belts in Modern Arnis today?”
On the surface, it sounds like a simple question. But the truth?
Most people aren’t prepared for it.

When Professor Remy A. Presas passed away, he took with him the only legitimate authority to promote anyone further in Modern Arnis. He was the founder, the source, the standard. His authority didn’t get transferred, inherited, or absorbed.

It ended — full stop.

Years ago, I had a conversation with Rene Tongson that confirmed exactly what I already knew. He said,
“Tim, the only person who could promote in Modern Arnis was Remy. After he passed, all we can do now are recognitions.”

And that’s the distinction most people conveniently ignore.
A promotion carries the authority of the founder.
A recognition carries the opinion of peers.
They are not equal — not even close.

Grandmaster Ernesto Presas made that crystal clear as well. After years of training with him, he promoted me to Grandmaster — in Kombatan, his art. Not his brother’s. He told me directly:
“Tim, I cannot promote you in my brother’s art. Only in mine.”

That’s integrity. That’s boundaries.
And that’s exactly what’s missing from many of today’s rank discussions.

Because let’s address the elephant in the room:
When Professor was alive, rank meant something.
To earn a Modern Arnis black belt, you got it from his hands.
Not from a committee.
Not from a council.
Not from a popularity vote.

Today, a lot of promotions happen — but far too many mean absolutely nothing.
Some groups have turned advancement into a you-promote-me-and-I’ll-promote-you arrangement. It’s an echo chamber of titles built on convenience, not contribution.

Let’s be real:
When people promote each other just to climb the ladder, the ladder isn’t worth climbing.
Rank earned that way has the shelf life of a cardboard sword.

If your rank comes from effort, sacrifice, teaching, and building the art — that has value.
If it comes from group politics, handshakes, or “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine” — it’s just embroidery on a belt.

Here’s what actually matters:
What have you done? What are you doing? Who are you raising to the next level?

For context: I was one of Professor Presas’ highest-ranked black belts, outranking roughly 99% of his students except for a few quiet promotions in the Philippines. But that’s not what defines my legacy — and it shouldn’t define anyone’s.

This past May, during my birthday camp, I saw something that did define it. Not the celebration. Not the attendance. Not the milestone.

But this:
Four generations of black belts in my lineage on the floor, training side by side.

That is something a certificate can’t manufacture.
That is something politics can’t create.
That is something no self-appointed council can grant.

That is legacy.
That is the real measure of rank.
That is longevity in action.

Because titles fade. Paper fades. Belts fade.
What remains is the community you build, the students you train, and the generations you inspire to continue the work.

The best way to honor Professor Presas isn’t by chasing higher stripes.
It’s by doing the work he modeled:
Teach. Build. Share. Spread the art.
And prepare the next generation to surpass you.

That’s the kind of rank that actually matters — the kind that will outlive all of us.

Respectfully,
Datu Tim Hartman
Modern Arnis’ Tribal Chief

#modernarnis #filipinomartialarts