Indian Club Swinging: A Lost Physical Culture Art

I was first introduced to the Indian club swinging by my Burmese Bando instructors; at that time, I had to have a local woodworker build a pair of clubs for me out of two ball bats. I knew there was something timeless and powerful in the movement. I originally started using them to condition the connective tissues of the arms and the wrist for a specific martial art application called the Ghost Style from the Snow Tiger System. I later found that these weren’t just tools for conditioning, they were keys to restoring and refining the human machine. They taught control, alignment, and flow. They were ancient, and they felt that way in the best sense of the word.

Although I initially learned just a few basic exercises from my instructors, that small introduction sparked a deepercuriosity. It pushed me to research the art further, which eventually led to discovering a wide range of applications for Indian clubs, each designed to target different areas of the body with precision and purpose. But in today’s modern fitness world, most people have never even heard of them.

Indian Club Swinging is a practice that dates back centuries, with deep roots in the warrior traditions of ancient India. Originally developed for soldiers, these clubs were used to build strength, coordination, balance, and agility. Swinging the clubs through complex circular patterns trained the entire upper body and stimulated the nervous system. More than exercise, it was preparation for life and combat.

British officers stationed in India during the colonial period were fascinated by the flowing, dynamic motions of the native warriors. They brought the practice back to Europe, where it was adopted into the physical culture systems of Germany and Czechoslovakia. By the mid-1800s, German immigrants introduced Indian clubs to the United States. 

They were welcomed into gymnasiums, schools, and even military training programs. At one time, these wooden clubs lined the walls of American gymnasiums. They were used to teach movement, restore posture, and develop what was referred to as “grace, coordination, and rhythm.” In fact, the 1914 U.S. Army Manual of Physical Training states that light club swinging was a primary method to develop neuromuscular balance, noting its ability to keep the joints of the upper body supple and mobile.

This wasn’t just about fitness. Indian clubs were used for rehabilitation, mental focus, and developing flow under pressure. They combined the martial and the restorative, blending strength and grace. Unfortunately, this highly effective and refined training method began to fade as modern athletics rose in popularity. Team sports and linear lifting took center stage, and club swinging, with its roots in holistic development, was pushed to the side.

By the 1920s, Indian clubs had all but disappeared from the mainstream American training landscape. They were dismissed as outdated, overly complex, or simply unnecessary in the face of newer, faster-paced training modalities. But in this rush toward modernity, we lost something powerful, a practice that develops not only the body but also the mind.

I believe the wisdom of Indian club training is being rediscovered and integrated back into systems of martial arts, physical culture, and movement therapy.

For martial artists, the benefits are immediately apparent. The circular patterns of club swinging echo the movement of weapons-based systems like Filipino Kali. The figure-eight and diagonal flows are nearly identical to angle drills many of us train on a regular basis. And just like in the combative arts, Indian club swinging requires precision, balance, breath control, and presence.

But perhaps the most important thing is what club swinging does for the shoulders. The shoulder girdle is one of the body’s most mobile and vulnerable areas. It demands a training approach that balances strength with suppleness. Indian clubs deliver precisely that. Those of you who know me know that I have had extensive shoulder surgery in the last few years, and I have been gradually adding my old Indian club training back into my daily routine with great results. 

By combining concentric, eccentric, and rotational patterns through a full range of motion, the clubs restore joint health and coordination in a way few other tools can. There’s no hiding from the truth with Indian clubs. If your mechanics aren’t dialed in, the movement immediately exposes it. Break your posture, and the flow collapses. But when everything is aligned, when your body moves with control and intent, the clubs respond. You feel it right away in the rhythm, the timing, and the effortless motion.

The best part? This is accessible to almost anyone. Whether you’re a martial artist, coach, therapist, or simply someone looking to move better and live stronger, Indian clubs offer a direct, intelligent path to reclaiming your shoulders, your coordination, and your connection to movement.

These days, I incorporate Indian club training into my programs and seminars regularly. We use them not only as a warm-up or recovery tool but as a central piece of our shoulder health and upper body mobility development. Indian Club Swinging is a return to something fundamental. Something that was nearly lost. And like many timeless practices, it’s proving its worth once again in the hands of those willing to train with intelligence and intent.

This type of training doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it carries directly into the weapon work we practice across the multiple martial arts systems I study and teach. Whether Filipino Kali, traditional Shaolin Kung Fu, or any other system rooted in combative movement, the principles of structure, coordination, and flow we develop through Indian club swinging translate powerfully into how we handle blades, sticks, and improvised tools.

Tuhon Tim Waid recently said something that stuck with me: “Tool use is one of the primary areas of skill development for human beings.” And he’s absolutely right. From the earliest stages of our evolution, we’ve been tool users. It’s hardwired into who we are. For the true combat artist, this couldn’t be more relevant. Real combative science doesn’t begin with empty hands, it begins with weapons. The progression traditionally moves from tools to tactics to hands, not the other way around.

Unfortunately, that truth has been turned on its head. Somewhere along the way, particularly in modern martial arts culture, we started with sport-based striking or grappling and left the weapons training behind. Just like Indian club swinging, the understanding of tools as the foundation of movement was quietly pushed to the side. And much like the clubs, it’s something we need to reclaim.

That’s part of my mission, bringing back what was lost, reconnecting martial artists with the deeper roots of their craft, and helping them re-integrate tool-based movement into their training. The principles remain the same whether you’re swinging a club, a stick, or a blade. The mechanics are universal. And that’s the kind of training that creates lasting skill, not just in the body, but in the brain and the nervous system too.

The Mace: The Heavy Club of the Warrior Class

While Indian clubs are often the gateway into circular weight training for most Western practitioners, they’re just the beginning of a much deeper lineage of tool-based movement. If the Indian club is the scalpel—precise, controlled, and neurologically rich, the gada, or heavy mace, is the hammer. It’s raw, primal, and powerful, and it belongs alongside the clubs in the physical culture of the warrior.

Historically, the gada was a weapon and training tool favored by Hindu soldiers, and even the gods. The deity Hanuman, a divine embodiment of strength, discipline, and loyalty, is often depicted wielding a gada effortlessly in one hand, capable of moving mountains. In the Puranic age, Hindu warriors trained with the gada at dawn, along with wrestling, archery, and swordsmanship. It wasn’t just about swinging a weapon, it was about cultivating the physical structure and spirit required to wield one effectively.

These warriors didn’t just practice dueling with the gada. They used heavier versions of the mace for strength and conditioning, swinging them behind their backs in massive arcs. These were often made from bamboo poles with heavy stones attached to one end. This built tremendous power in the shoulders, grip, forearms, spine, and torso, all the areas a true warrior relies on when grappling, striking, or carrying weight under pressure.

That ancient training method has endured, particularly through Pehlwani wrestling in Northern India and Pakistan. The most iconic example? The Great Gama, the undefeated Pehlwani wrestler whose legendary physicality is still discussedtoday. He trained with the gada daily, building the kind of real, rooted strength that couldn’t be faked or fabricated. His was a body forged for combat, and for longevity.

So why didn’t this kind of training catch on in the West when Indian clubs did back in the 19th century? It’s hard to say. The lighter clubs were more accessible, easier to teach, and more acceptable in gymnasiums and military schools. The gada, on the other hand, demands a different level of commitment and resilience. It’s not an entry point, it’s a deeper dive.

But over the past decade, the mace has begun to make a comeback. Combat athletes, movement practitioners, and strength coaches have rediscovered it as one of the most effective tools for developing rotational strength, grip power, spinal integrity, and full-body coordination. And just like the Indian club, it connects the practitioner to something ancient and foundational. This is not fitness in the modern sense. This is physical culture, a form of training that builds durability, control, and power that transfers directly into the martial application.

I now integrate the mace into many of my own training systems, alongside Indian clubs. The two tools complement each other perfectly. It is not common for me to have the yard at the house littered with Indian clubs of all sizes, Persian meels, kettlebells, and several maces or gada. The lighter clubs train precision and neurological coordination. The mace brings in load, force, and deeper structural integration. Both help develop what I call the martial body, one that is mobile, resilient, and built to move like a warrior, not a machine. Well, at least that is the goal. 

In truth, we’re not just training the body with these tools, we’re honoring a legacy and a lost art. We’re reconnecting with a lineage that goes back centuries, built by warriors who understood that mastering the weapon begins with learning the movement. And the movement starts with the tools. The Indian club and the mace are more than implements, they’re bridges to the kind of training we’ve lost. 

Rebuilding Through the Swing

I’ll be honest, my recent path with the Indian clubs and the mace hasn’t just been about exploration or tradition. It’s also been about recovery. Several years ago, I had shoulder and elbow surgeries that set me back hard. Anyone who’s been through that kind of rehab process knows how humbling it can be. You go from being strong, capable, and active to barely being able to move your arm without pain. That kind of reset challenges everything, from your mindset to your identity.

It hasn’t been easy. In fact, it’s been one of the slowest, most frustrating processes of my career. There were months when progress felt invisible. Days where even simple movements were a struggle. But I kept showing up. I kept exploring. And I leaned into the tools that made sense, which demanded structure and control without reckless load.

That’s where the Indian clubs and the mace came in.

These tools gave me a way to rebuild with intelligence. I didn’t need to throw weight around or chase numbers. I needed quality of movement, precision, and feedback, and that’s exactly what club and mace training provided. The circular patterns gently reintroduced movement to my joints. They taught my nervous system how to communicate with my body again. They challenged my posture, my control, and my awareness, without tearing anything down in the process.

And here’s the part I’m most proud of: I’m now doing things that both of my doctors said I’d likely never do again. Overhead work. Pressing. Dynamic rotation. Training with resistance. Things that were supposedly “off the table” have now become part of my everyday performance, and I’m just getting started.

There’s something powerful in being told you can’t, and proving otherwise. I credit these tools with helping me bridge that gap. They’ve become a cornerstone not just in how I train but also in how I rebuild. And if they can do that for someone like me, after major surgeries, decades into this path—then they absolutely belong in the toolkit of anyone who’s serious about longevity, recovery, and mastering their movement.

Integrating Joint Expansion and Alignment: A Higher Path of Physical Discipline

Now, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention one of the key elements that I personally integrate into this training, and that’s the study of joint expansion and skeletal alignment. This isn’t something you’ll typically find in traditional Indian club training, Persian meels, or even kettlebell work. It’s a layer that comes from a much deeper, older place, something I learned through decades of studying old-school Kung Fu systems.

The concept of joint expansion, or decompression, was ingrained in me through my internal martial arts training. In systems like Shaolin Kung Fu and other classical Chinese methods, there’s a deep understanding of how the body must remain open and aligned to move with maximum efficiency and minimal wear. This training includes postural alignment, breathing techniques, (Like The Full Cycle Breath) unitary motion, and the cultivation of internal space within the skeletal structure. It’s subtle, but incredibly powerful.

What I’ve done over time is combine this traditional knowledge with my work using Indian clubs, Persian meels, and kettlebells, creating something entirely new. I don’t approach these tools the way most modern fitness circles do. I fuse them with internal alignment principles, breath training, and mechanical refinement. This synthesis transforms the training from simply physical to deeply restorative, tactical, and transformational.

This is a higher level of physical discipline. It’s not about reps or how much weight you can move. It’s about how you move, how your structure organizes under pressure, how your breath supports that structure, and how your nervous system integrates it all into cohesive, powerful motion.

I believe this combination is one of the key reasons I was able to recover from my surgeries with such unexpected success. The blending of ancient internal principles with old-school physical culture tools gave me a framework to restore not just strength, but deep internal balance. It built resilience—not just in the muscles and joints, but in the system as a whole.

This is the heart of what I teach in The Warrior’s Path Program. It’s the culmination of over 45 years of training in martial arts, physical culture, and real-world combat conditioning. The program merges the timeless wisdom of the warrior traditions with the best of historical strength systems, creating a truly unique methodology for developing strength, awareness, and longevity.

It’s not just a workout, it’s a path. And it’s one I believe every serious martial artist, protector, or modern-day warrior should walk.

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Sifu Alan Baker is a nationally respected authority in Defensive Tactics Program Development, High-Performance Coaching, and martial arts, with over 45 years of training experience across multiple systems. As a lifelong martial artist and tactical instructor, Alan has dedicated his career to creating practical, adaptable, and effective training systems for real-world application. He has worked extensively with law enforcement agencies, military units, and private security professionals, designing programs that emphasize scenario-based training, everyday carry (EDC) integration, and combative efficiency under pressure.

Alan’s client list includes elite organizations such as the Executive Protection Institute, Vehicle Dynamics Institute, The Warrior Poet Society, ALIVE Active Shooter Training, Tactical 21, and Retired Navy SEAL Jason Redman, among many others. He is the creator of both the C-Tac® (Civilian Tactical Training Association) and Protection Response Tactics (PRT) programs—two widely respected systems that provide realistic, principle-based training for civilians and professionals operating in high-risk environments.

In addition to his tactical and martial arts work, Alan is the founder of the Warrior’s Path Physical Culture Program, a holistic approach to strength, mobility, and long-term health rooted in traditional martial arts and the historic principles of physical culture. This program integrates breathwork, structural alignment, joint expansion, strength training, and mental discipline, offering a complete framework for building a resilient body and a powerful mindset. Drawing from his training in Chinese Kung Fu, Filipino Martial Arts, Indonesian Silat, Burmese systems, and more, Alan combines decades of experience into a method that is both modern and deeply rooted in timeless warrior traditions.

Alan is also the architect of multiple online video academies, giving students worldwide access to in-depth training in his systems, including Living Mechanics Jiu-Jitsu, C-Tac® Combatives, breathwork, functional mobility, and weapons integration. These platforms allow for structured, self-paced learning while connecting students to a growing global community of practitioners.

Beyond physical training, Alan is a sought-after Self-Leadership Coach, working with high performers, professionals, and individuals on personal growth journeys. His coaching emphasizes clarity, discipline, focus, and accountability, helping people break through mental limitations and align their daily actions with long-term goals. His work is built on the belief that true mastery begins with the ability to lead oneself first, and through that, to lead others more effectively.

Alan is also the author of three books that encapsulate his philosophy and approach: The Warrior’s Path, which outlines the mindset and habits necessary for self-leadership and personal mastery; The Universal Principles of Change, a practical guide for creating lasting transformation; and Morning Mastery, a structured approach to building a powerful daily routine grounded in physical culture and discipline.

To explore Alan’s books, digital academies, live training opportunities, or to inquire about seminars and speaking events, visit his official website and take the next step on your path toward strength, resilience, and mastery.