I risked catching COVID or the flu on Christmas Day by watching two entries to the Metro Manila Film Festival with storylines drawn from Philippine history. Both films had Piolo Pascual playing a 19th-century Filipino priest. Both film titles are surnames.
Gomburza (not “MaJoHa”) is shorthand for the names of three priests martyred in Bagumbayan in February 1872: Mariano Gomes, Jose Burgos, and Jacinto Zamora. Mallari isn’t in textbook history, but we learn it from the internet. Fr. Severino Mallari was picked out of the dustbin of history through archival research by Dr. Luciano Santiago and clickbait generated by the Center for Kapampangan Studies that promotes him as “the first Filipino serial killer.” Worse, Mallari is “celebrated” for the wrong reasons as “the first Filipino priest executed by the Spanish, antedating Gomburza by 32 years.” Mallari should never be spoken in the same breath as Gomburza. Mallari was a psychopath who allegedly murdered 57 people. Gomburza were innocent, and unjustly executed. Gomburza is a mantra in Rizal’s “El Filibusterismo,” a mantra of the Philippine Revolution against Spain.
Both films have excellent cinematography, their stories move forward through sound scripts and nuanced direction. While we must not compare apples and oranges, my professional bias leans, hands down, toward “GomBurZa.” “Mallari” is a roller coaster that makes us scream in parts and gets our adrenaline going, but after the almost two-hour ride, it is just entertainment. “GomBurZa” is more than mere “infotainment,” it gives depth and context to the names learned by rote in school. “GombBurZa” inspires because it is a call to action, it remains relevant to us today because things don’t have to be the way they are.
“GomBurZa” director Pepe Diokno, in my view, surmounted two challenges. First, having the film judged on historical accuracy. It will be unfairly weighed on a scale if taken as a doctoral dissertation. It’s a film! I know this well from personal experience, having endured constipated critics who demand the elements of an academic paper in an 800-word editorial page column: Where are the footnotes? Where is the bibliography and review of related literature? Does it have a conceptual framework? Outside academia and refereed journals, narrative history has never gone out of style and “GomBurZa” is history for the public, not academics. It does not have a bibliographic apparatus but watching it I could tell what primary sources were utilized for almost every scene. The eye over the director’s shoulder happens to be his aunt, University of the Philippines professor Maris Diokno, former National Historical Commission chair.
Diokno’s biggest challenge is the second, that the audience knows what will happen in the end. Gomburza will die. Yet he manages to maintain interest. Unlike other historical films that had me counting minutes to the end wishing they would kill the hero so I can go home, this one kept me on the edge of my seat till the end. “GomBurZa” opens with Fr. Pedro Peláez, champion of the secularization and Filipinization of the church. Peláez argued against parishes being taken from “seculars” (priests who were not members of a religious or friar order) and turned over to Spanish friars who discriminated against native priests and even “Filipinos” (Insular Spaniards who were born in the Philippines rather than Peninsular Spaniards born in Spain). Peláez, played by Piolo Pascual, is dispatched early on, buried under the rubble of the Manila Cathedral during the 1863 earthquake. Peláez’s cause is inherited by the young impertinent Jose Burgos played by Cedrick Juan whose fire is tempered by the aged Father Gomes played by Dante Rivero, who, despite a distracting wig, portrayed quiet wisdom born from experience. This film made me understand why first billing in the acronym goes to Gomes, and why it is not alphabetically Bur-Go-Za. Enchong Dee played the tragic Father Zamora who suffered a nervous breakdown and was practically dead long before his neck was broken by the garrote.
Diokno puts everything in context. Spanish overreaction to 1872 was born from the wars of independence (1809-1825) that saw the loss of Spanish (Latin) America with the exception of Cuba and Puerto Rico liberated after the 1898 Spanish-American War. Independence was fueled by criollo (Spaniards born in the colonies) discontent with Peninsular Spaniards. A significant detail in the film shows Burgos, a Spaniard, writing and owning the term “Filipinos.” Later, Rizal describes “El Filibusterismo” (1891) as a “Novela Filipina.” Not shown in the film is Rizal’s description of “Noli Me Tangere” (1887) as a “Novela Tagala.” When Rizal and his generation appropriated the term “Filipinos” to include indios and mestizos like themselves, when they began to see Filipinas rather than Spain as their motherland, the emergence of the Filipino nation was at hand.
Filipino soldiers prepare for shelling during a combined field artillery live-fire exercise as part of the US-Philippines Balikatan military exercises, amid growing threats from China, near New Clark City, Philippines, on April 14.
Filipino soldiers prepare for shelling during a combined field artillery live-fire exercise as part of the US-Philippines Balikatan military exercises, amid growing threats from China, near New Clark City, Philippines, on April 14.
United States and Philippine forces fired on a mock enemy warship in the South China Sea on Wednesday, the latest display of American firepower in Asia as tensions with China continue to rise.
The exercise, watched live by Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos Jr, was part of the annual Balikatan drills, which are scheduled to run until April 28 and involve more than 17,600 military personnel – the largest such exercises ever conducted by the two longtime treaty allies.
US aircraft, including F-35 and F-16 fighter jets, as well as HIMARS rocket systems and Cobra helicopters joined with Philippine FA-50 fighter jets, helicopters and artillery to fire on a decommissioned warship towed to a site within Philippine territorial waters off the island of Luzon, a Philippine military release said.
Luzon, the northernmost of the Philippines main islands, is only 280 miles (452 kilometers) from Taiwan, the self-ruled island over which the Chinese Communist Party claims sovereignty despite never having ruled it. Earlier this month, China’s state-run media labeled the drills as an “attempt to target China.”
US and Philippine military leaders said Wednesday’s exercise was designed to synchronize combat forces.
In the island of Panay I saw all the people that were following a funeral, immediately upon leaving the church after the service, like Jews go straight to the river for a bath, although they had no knowledge whatever of this obsolete law of the lost tribes of Israel. The island of Panay, as I have said, is in the province of the Pintados, within the diocese of Sebú. It has a coastline of a little over 100 leagues and is very pleasant and fertile, populated by very many Bisayans, who are white people. Among them however there are also some negroes, ancient inhabitants of the island who occupied it before the Bisayans did. They are a little less black and ugly than those of Guinea, smaller and frailer but in the hair and the beard perfectly similar. They are much more barbarous and wilder than the Bisayans and the other Filipinos, for they have no homes like these, nor any permanent settlement.
There is more than one language in the Philippines, and there is no single language that is spoken throughout the islands. In the island of Manila alone there are six different tongues, in that of Panay there are two, and in the others only one.
Of all these languages the one that I have found most satisfying and admirable is Tagalog, for as I have told the first Bishop and other persons of authority both here and there I have found in it four qualities from the four finest languages in the world, namely Hebrew, Greek, Latin and Spanish. From Hebrew, the intricacies and subtleties; from Greek, the articles, and the distinctions applied not only to common but also to proper nouns; from Latin, the fullness and elegance; and from Spanish, the good breeding and courtesy.
It is noted here that “This is one of the frequently quoted passages in discussing the merits of Tagalog [in connection to the National Language Question”
It seems extraordinary in this prayer [Ave Maria as translated by Chirino into Tagalog] that the first word, ABA, signifies greeting, like AVE in Latin.
“Bucor”(?) also is an unusual word, for it signifies diversity, distinction and singularity or uniqueness. The article is “si “
The other two languages of the Visayans have none of these refinements, or at least very little, being as they are coarser and less polished.
But their [Tagalogs] best manners are in their speech for they never address one as you, nor in the second person singular or plural, but always in the third: the master, the gentleman, will want this or that. There are many examples to be found of this form of address in the Sacred Scriptures and in holy books, but especially in the psalms. Between women particularly, though they be of equal status and average rank, the form of address is never less than my lord, my lady, and this after every important word: as I was coming, my lord, up the river, I saw, my lord, etc…, a pleasant and affectionate use of title and pronoun that is known even in the most solemn languages, which are the three most sacred, namely Hebrew, Greek and Latin.
They [the Tagalogs] are punctiliously courteous and affectionate in social intercourse and are fond of writing to one another with the utmost propriety and most delicate refinement.
The Bisayans are more artless and unpolished, as their language is more uncultivated and coarser. They do not have so many terms expressive of good breeding, as they had no writing before they adopted that of the Tagalogs many years ago.
Los Bisayas son más rústicos y llanos, como su lengua más bronca, y grosera. Notienen tantos términos de crianza, como ni tenían letras; pués las tomaron de lostagalos, bien pocos años há.
So accustomed are all these islanders to writing and reading that there is scarcely a man, and much less a woman, who cannot read and write in letters proper to the island of Manila, very different from those of China, Japan and India […]
[Son tán dados todos esto isleños á escribir y leer, que no hay casi hombre y muchomenos muger, que no lea y escriba en letras propias de la isla de Manila, diversísimasde las de China, Japón, y de la India […]
In spite of this [deletion of syllable-final consonants in the writing system] they understand and make themselves understood wonderfully well and without ambiguities: the reader easily and skilfully supplies the omitted consonants. They have taken after us to writing horizontally from left to right, but formerly they used to write from top to bottom putting the first vertical line on the left-hand side (if I remember well) and continuing towards the right, quite differently from the Chinese and Japanese who though they write from top to bottom proceed from the right hand side towards the left.
They wrote on bamboos or on palm leaves, using an iron point for a pen. Now they write not only their own letters, but ours as well, with a very well-cut pen and on paper like ourselves. They have learned our language and pronunciation and write it as well as we do, and even better, because they are so clever that they learn anything very quickly. I have brought home letters written by their hand in a very fine, flowing script. In Tigbauan I had a small boy in school who in three months, by copying letters that I received written in good script, learned to write much better than I, and translated important papers for me most accurately, without errors or falsehoods. But enough now of languages and letters, and let us return to our business of souls.
Of What was Done in Manila in the Year of 1596 and 97 As we have mentioned, courses in Latin Grammar and in Moral Theology were introduced in this college, and as customary both were inaugurated with solemn acts and learned discourses.
The Church [of Saint Anne, dedicated in 1596] itself, just recently completed, looked so handsome and attractive that no additional beautification would have been necessary; nevertheless, it was well adorned with tapestries and with numerous scrolls that we had inscribed in Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Castilian and the Tagalog language and had posted up in three tiers along the main nave and distributed in other parts of the church.
[In Manila] Two priests who knew their language [Tagalog] at the time were there forenot enought to minister to them [for confession], even if they did so mornings and afternoons. I learned from some of them that they had been coming for more than tenor even twelve days and still had not been able to come to the feet of the confessor, because of the multitude of people.
On Sundays and holydays (sic), in the afternoon, during the sermons given in their own language […]
Another one [Indio], who possessed a book of a certain kind of poem which they call “golo”(might be related to the chinese mythological figure Zhang Guolao??), very pernicious because it expresses a deliberate pact with the devil, voluntarily gave it up for burning, which was done.
Not for any of these three things [the false belief in the divinity of their idols, of their priests and priestesses, of their sacrifices and superstitions] – nor for government and public order – did they make use of their letters, for as we have said they never used these except to correspond with one another.
They deal with the creation of the world and the beginning of the human lineage, with the deluge and, and with glory and grief and other intangible things, telling a thousand absurd stories and even altering their stories a great deal so that some tell it in one way and others in another. To show more clearly that these are all falsehoods and fables, one of them is that the first man and the first woman came out of a bamboo reed which burst from its grove, and that they thereupon engaged in a dispute as to the propriety of their marrying one another (due to the obstacle posed by the first degree of consanguinity, which among them is inviolable, although it was permitted in this single instance because of the need for propagating the human species).
Polo y servicio was a practice employed by Spanish colonizers for over 250 years that required the forced labor of all Filipino males from 16 to 60 years old for 40-day periods. The workers could be placed on any project the Spanish wanted, despite hazardous or unhealthy conditions. It was not only Filipinos but Chinese mestizos as well who were forced to do polo y servicio.
The word polo refers to community work, and the laborer was called polista. The community projects included cutting logs in forests, building ships, repairing churches, as well as constructing government buildings, roads and bridges. The only way to avoid being forced to do polo y servicio was to pay the falla, which was the equivalent of one and a half reales per day. In 1884, the forty days of forced labor was reduced to 15 days.
Negative Effects of Polo y Servicio
The Philippines acted as the epicenter of the Spanish Galleon trade from Manila to Acapulco, which was so prosperous for Spain that it neglected to consider and develop the colony’s local industries. The Filipino people were agriculturally based and grew crops, not only for profit, but also for their own diet. Aside from injuring and killing many Filipino males, the polo y servicio crippled the ability of the Filipinos to feed themselves, causing hunger and frustration and leading to numerous rebellions.
PALIWANAG SA TAGALOG
Noong panahon ng mga Kastila, ang mga kalalakihang Pilipino at mestisong Chino na naninirahan sa Pilipinas ay sapilitang pinapatrabaho ng gobyerno sa mga proyekto para sa kapakanan ng komunidad. Ang tawag doon ay polo y servicio. Ayaw na ayaw ito ng mga Pilipino at mestiso dahil hindi sila binabayaran sa kanilang trabaho. At habang naninilbihan sa gobyerno ay mahirap asikasuhin ang kanilang sariling mga gawain, tulad ng pag-aararo sa bukid at iba pa.
Halimbawa: Kung nais ng gobyernong magtayo ng gusali o gumawa ng bangka o tulay, kukuha sila ng mga Pilipino at sasabihin kailangan nilang gawin iyon nang walang bayad. Ang mga maperang Pilipino at Intsik ay hindi kailangan manilbihan basta’t magbabayad lang sila sa gobyerno ng tinatawag na falla na ang katumbas ay 1.5 real bawat araw ng 40. Ang total niyan ay 60 reales na hindi maliit na halaga. Noong taong 1884, ang bilang ng mga araw para sa polo y servicio ay binawasan mula 40 at naging 15 araw. Ang falla para doon ay 22.5 reales.
Lahat ng kalalakihan mula sa gulang na 16 hanggang 60 ay kinailangang makilahok sa polo y servicio. Kung ngayon ito gagawin, malamang ito ay tatawaging free labor o civil conscription sa Ingles. Karamihan sa conscription na nangyayari sa mundo ngayon ay hindi civil conscription kundi military conscription (“draft”). Halimbawa, sa bansang Denmark, ang lahat ng kalalakihan na umabot sa gulang na 18 ay kailangang manilbihan sa militar ng 4 hanggang 12 buwan — isang beses lang sa kanilang buhay. Ito ay serbisyo para sa kanilang sariling bansa at hindi para sa sinumang mananakop.
Extract from “ The Ideal and the Real in Filipino Lowland Life. Franciscan Descriptions of the Ways Filipinos Actually Lived in the Eighteenth Century “, by Bruce Cruikshank (pages 63 to 69)
Easter is arguably the most important season in the Christian religious calendar, and I have presented some of the religious and ritual aspects in the first chapter. In the Philippine colonial context it epitomized the dual nature of the priest’s role, spiritual as well as administrator for the king’s government centered in Manila. If we focus on this second aspect of the priest we will be able to glimpse some of the themes outlined in the previous chapters.
The civil, administrative role of the pueblo priest centered on his role in compiling a roster or padrón of individuals and families living in the pueblo. This roster was used for a variety of functions, but fundamentally it served to account for those Filipinos subject to tribute payments and forced labor or requisitions of goods. The parish priest was charged with making sure that the pueblo Filipino officials developed such a list and then validating it. In the first part of the eighteenth century the list was updated every three or four or so years; in the latter part of the century it was supposed to be updated yearly. The priest relied on the gobernadorcillo and other pueblo officials to compile and update the list, and we have already seen that some Filipino officials used the opportunity to hide potential tribute payers and instead have them work on their own lands and pay for exclusion with coin and labor. We have also seen that some pueblo bureaucracies became inflated as a way to protect others from imperial tribute and labor exactions while helping the gobernadorcillo or leading families to increase their networks of followers. I won’t repeat that material here but will rather focus on the priest and his administrative role for the state.
The official roster of the pueblo was compiled and updated at a specific season of the year—the Easter season. Easter in the colonial Philippines was both a religious holiday of signal importance in the Christian calendar as well as a notable time for acknowledgment of governmental power and the authority of Spain. Filipino acknowledgment of submission and obligation to Spain was demonstrated by registering for and submitting to the tribute and other taxes owed to the imperial master. The connection between Easter and tribute was explicit. It was at Easter time that one was obligated to both participate in religious acts and rituals as well as to acknowledge civil and tax submission by registering in the padrón. The religious sacrament of Confession was the vehicle for tax registration. No Filipino
… was ready to make actual confession until he had been examined in the basic tenets of Christian doctrine and the principal Christian prayers, and until he had been issued by the examiner a piece of paper stamped with the sello (seal) provided for by the Ministro for that specific purpose. This sello must be presented to the confessor [before confession]. After confession the Ministro gave the penitent another seal called cédula de confesión which authorized him to receive Holy Communion the following day. …
The missionaries had recourse to the use of sellos and cédulas to maintain some order and to manage that all the faithful under their care complied with this important Christian duty.
… Apparently the sello and cédulas carried important information concerning the holder, such as name, age, sex, barangay head, occupation, legal status, because the missionary was able to make the padrón of the year from the cédulas de confesión collected from those who received their Easter-day Holy Communion. …
The padrón listed families and their tax or tribute obligations for the year. The description of the categories and organization underline the civil uses to which it would be put:
using both of those seals, the priest will make up a list of inhabitants (padrón)
… putting first the Cabeza de Barangay and his household, and then the others, house by house. [Within each household, list the individuals in this order:] husband, wife, children, and slaves, if there are any, signifying those who are married and those unmarried, males first and then females if they are single. Having finished the listing of the pueblo, by each barangay then list those men reserved from the tribute, and then those women who are reserved, followed by the [young males (Bagontavos)] who are not tribute payers, followed by the [young women (Dalagas)] who are not yet of the age for the tribute. Then put the schoolboys, even those who for whatever reason do not attend school. Then list all the girls who are of the same age as the schoolboys. Then enter those who are Aetas as well as those Christian indios who are not yet congregated into the pueblo …
and one must also list the Chinese and any other foreigners who might be in the pueblo.
Spiritual and civil obligations neatly reinforced each other, and thus “both majesties” were acknowledged.
This congruence of civil and religious authority and obligation notwithstanding, we saw in Chapter One that Easter was primarily a spiritual set of rituals and exercises and obligations, similar to some of the fiesta and other ceremonies described earlier as well but much more prolonged, intense, and demanding. Throughout, Filipino participation was active and enthusiastic, voluntary as well as mandated. The Filipinos who participated—from the pueblo’s civil administrators to the church’s fiscal and other church officials to the parishioners—had seen that the church and streets were decorated appropriately and enthusiastically attended the prolonged sequence of events associated with this seminal myth of the Christian faith. Filipinos, as good Christians of the period, were also obligated to fast at specified periods as well as to participate in forms of penance, some of which some parishioners took to with great enthusiasm.
What is perhaps most striking is the coincidence of this popular passion and devotion centered on one of the holiest periods of the Christian calendar with the use of Confession as a way to construct the mundane census that would be the basis for exacting taxes in kind or in specie from the Filipino subjects. Franciscan priests were expected to pass these tallies up the hierarchy to Manila, where the Franciscan Provincial turned them in to the Spanish civil authorities. Franciscans would not receive their yearly subsidies from the Crown until this was done. It is significant in both ideological as well as in practical ways that the padrón was to be compiled from those taking Confession in the church during the Easter season.
Filipino responses to Spanish demands and expectations give us a glimpse into the world of the islanders in the eighteenth century. Here too we can snatch a peek, especially when we learn of how some Filipinos responded to this combination of the spiritual and the tax roll. Here’s a Franciscan response concerning those who tried to take Confession but were not resident in the pueblo: “no minister, in the time of Lent, is to confess an indio from another parish, without permission of the parish priest of that parish, due to the inconveniences that could ensue.” In 1718 a Franciscan Provincial noted that there might be awkward situations arising with the Bishop or the provincial governor and not to confess Filipinos from other pueblos without good reason.
Mobility is a common theme in the manuscripts and seems to have been a constant in the lives of many Filipinos in this period leading to difficulties in collecting the tribute. Since mobility was legal, the Spanish tried to lay out rules and procedures to adjust to the Filipino mode while still collecting taxes and keeping track of the population. While some registered when they resided in a different pueblo from the one they paid tribute in, paying a sum as vagabundos, many ignored and evaded such regulations. We also have the words of a Franciscan writing in 1726 that “we see Indios who within the space of a year usually have two or three pueblos of residence.” While we cannot know for sure what motivated this mobility, presumably it was based on perceptions of self-interest and advantage. Other glimpses into the Filipino world come with references to concern by the Franciscans about “those who customarily live hidden in houses and fields [owned] by principales, to those who do not pay the tribute nor [usually do not] hear Mass nor comply with the other obligations and burdens imposed on the pueblo and its neighbors.”
We find hints as well that some, perhaps many, of the non-official Filipinos in the provinces were actively responding to the impositions and creatively learning to play the system to their advantage, not to the advantage of the Filipino and Spanish officials. One example dates from the late eighteenth century and Spanish governmental attempts to reform the tribute system. At one point the plan was to have the cabezas de barangay issue a certificate to each ostensible tribute payer in his charge. At Easter, when Filipinos were required to attend church and services as well as confess, they were as we have seen to present the certificate, have their name recorded on the roster (the padrón), and thus be subject to the tribute, the polo, and the bandala.
Filipinos quickly figured out that if they did not show up for the Easter Confession and services their names would not be entered on the padrón and they could then avoid being subject to tribute demands for that year. As a Franciscan remarked in 1774, the previous three years had seen a “very notable” decrease in those coming to Mass and making their confession,
with detriment to their recognition of vassalage to our sovereign through the annual tribute, that they ought to pay to the cavezas de barangay as representatives of the king. The priests must certify … the tributes who are administered in the pueblos, which is done through the padrones that are made up based on certificates that they carry from their cavezas at the time of confession. If they do not confess, their names are not registered in the padrón. … We know the names who should have confessed because of the previous year’s padrón.
Stratagems such as missing annual confession, payoffs to local officials, collaboration, and feigning incompetence and laziness are strategic responses to a corrupt and oppressive system where punishments for direct confrontation could be draconian. Flight and mobility are indicators that are more noticeable and sometimes the linkage was expressly noted. For instance, according to Huerta, a ranchería established by the Franciscans in the municipality of Limotan in 1670, took form and “prospered until the year of 1700” when the government tried to obligate its residents to pay tribute. At that point, they all fled to the hills, and the mission was entirely lost.
Filipino priorities seem to have been determinative. We see this in a case from a mission settlement, Manguirin, in 1756:
… the sitio that is called Santa Cruz of Manguirin … is where the priests suffer from fevers the most, where there is no [adequate] drinking water, and to bathe one has to half a legua from the sitio to the river Ynarihan. To continue with the dreadful [qualities of the place, the inhabitants], except for those who have no tools at all, have implements which barely allow them to make a piece of a field, all of which means that in that sitio there are only a few houses. Most people live [away], in rancherias. The consequence is attendance at Mass is low …
Only when they want, and how they want, then they come enthusiastically [Sino solo quando quieren, y como quieren, a una cosa bienen todos gustosos]. Notwithstanding [the dispersion of population], every Wednesday there is a market in the cabecera with markets as well in the sitios on Saturdays and Sundays. In these markets one finds goods and sellers from Bicol, selling meat, fish, tobacco, iron, and many other things, and the cimarrones trade for them with what they have, namely wax, abaca, etc. … In reality they do not want a priest but rather [only] a shadow of a priest. They [only] want [a priest] who will attend to their needs, remove [los saque] their miseries. When they arrive in the doorway the priest receives them with love and gives them protection. Their [need, though,] only lasts as long as they are in the doorway. When they can, they escape ….
Filipino preferences perhaps meant that the priorities of the priests and the governments were of secondary or tertiary significance.
We now have a sketch of Philippine society in the eighteenth century, one where Filipinos had their own political, economic, and social networks. The imperial administrations encompassing clerical and governmental hierarchies reached the pueblos but penetrated the lives of Filipinos in those municipal districts largely at the behest or with the acquiescence of Filipinos. Direct opposition to clerical or governmental colonial power could be costly. Punitive responses were readily employed. Evasion, partial acquiescence, manipulation, playing government against clerical authority, and flight therefore were more successful stratagems.
The priest was ostensibly the center of pueblo life, working both as a cleric and as the representative of the imperial power. It appears to me that in fact the leading families in the pueblo worked through and with the priest and the Spanish provincial governor to effectively run the world of the pueblo, with their influence diminishing as one moved from the población to the farthest outliers. Much of the statements above admittedly are conjectural, based on an interpretive reading of manuscript materials. We appear to have no autobiographies or family histories from Filipino pueblo elite from this period that might support or undercut my argument.
We can go even further. There are paradoxes that touch Filipinos who chose to live in both the boondocks and in the población. For those living far from that población, they had more freedom from Church and State and less hispanization–but along with this came also perhaps less ability to avoid discriminatory prices for their goods, less opportunity for their children to get some formal education, perhaps more subjection to debt bondage and exclusion from church rituals and sacraments. Those Filipinos who lived in the población were close to the church and the residence of the priest, where hispanization and Spanish control should have been the greatest. However, it was here where the leading Filipino families lived and where their political skills and economic power supported their control of the municipality. It is here where they built networks of political and economic influence, recruited followers, received petitions for loans and other help, and made alliances and arranged for allies to hold pueblo and church positions. With political acumen would have come greater influence, power, and wealth, enabling them more effectively to deflect, avoid, and fulfill demands of the Spanish government and the parish priest, artfully working the system and “both majesties.”
Wherever they lived, Filipinos were deemed by Church and State to be colonial subjects. Direct opposition to that subordinate position was destined to be unsuccessful. More artful and evasive methods allowed some Filipinos to manipulate the system to their advantage while appearing to be dutiful subjects of crown and church. Those who chose to live outside the población, in sitios or hidden in the hills, effectively chose a life of freedom but were subject to constraints of environment, exploitation by powerful families, and lacked regular opportunities to grow through formal education and religious instruction. Those in the población were apparently less free from Spanish rules, but they enjoyed greater opportunities for family advancement and personal growth. The Spanish ruled, Filipinos chose their responses.
According to many accounts, the upcoming 1973 elections was the reason why President Marcos declared Martial Law on 23 September 1972. The constitution at that time barred him from having a third term and it was projected that the elections would be an overwhelming victory for the opposition. But even so, President Marcos wanted to show that he was a different kind of dictator. He was a constitutional autocrat, he wanted to still show that his leadership was legal and legitimate, at least to the ruling class. And so he held elections, but according to Rigoberto Tiglao, “Rigged referenda and elections were the main props of the dictatorship in its attempt to give itself a legal basis” . As Etta Rosales said, “Well, he held elections very frequently, but they were elections that made a mockery of democracy and the electoral processes they were elections that were used to legitimize his rule”
Upon the imprisonment of oppositionist members of the constitutional convention, the provisions that would maintain President Marcos into power were conveniently included in the draft constitution which would be submitted to a people in a plebiscite. Marcos, as the new form of “datu,” wanted to go back to the ancient Filipino form of government, the barangay, and he wanted to fulfil this by consulting directly to the people as the ancients had done, only, there were already over forty million Filipinos in the 1970’s. To call what can be considered as the first Martial Law elections, which was justified as “grassroots style of democracy,” as “unconventional” would be an understatement. Some people joked that in a real plebiscite, “Yes” will be defeated by “No” because people will vote the jailed lawmakers Aqui-“no” and Diok-“no.” And so the plebiscite was suspended and was replaced via Presidential Decree 86 by barangay citizens’ assemblies. In these meetings held on 10-15 January 1973, the members of the barangay were asked to raise their hands to vote if they wanted to ratify the constitution. According to Haydee Yorac, there were reports that even those who are too young to vote were included, they reduced the voting age to from 18 to 15. The barangay chiefs reported an overwhelming approval by the people of the constitution—14,976,561 (90.67%) voted yes and 743,869 (9.33%) voted no.
They even published photographs of people raising hands in such Except when otherwise stated, election figures came from the official website of the Commission on Elections (COMELEC). meetings, but many accounts say they were just asked whoever wanted to have free rice. Ridiculous and dubious referenda continued. In 27-28 July 1973, people were asked if they wanted to ratify the 1973 constitution, suspend the convening of the interim Batasang Pambansa and “to continue the reforms started under Martial Law.” Again, 90.77% voted yes against 9.23 who voted no. On 27-28 February 1975, 87% the people supposedly decided to allow the president to use his power to restructure Greater Manila into and integrate it into a manager commission; approved the “the manner the President has been exercising his powers under Martial Law and the Constitution and that the President should continue exercising the same powers;” and allowed Martial Law to continue including the suspension of the interim Batasang Pambansa and the extension of terms of local officials among others. Again, on 16-17 October 1976, President Marcos asked the people of they wanted Martial Law to continue and if they would allow to ratify proposed amendments to the 1973 constitution substituting the Interim Batasang Pambansa for the Regular Batasang Pambansa. As expected, 86.7 % said yes. In December 1977, the people were asked if they want President Marcos to continue as President and Prime Minister of the Philippines. In one of these elections, Marcos got the statistically mind-boggling 99% “yes” votes. Three more referenda will be held. This elections were held during a period of economic prosperity “which made the upper and middle class apathetic to the attack on democratic rights.”
Wednesday, the twenty-eighth of November, 1520, we came forth out of the said strait, and entered into the Pacific sea, where we remained three months and twenty days without taking in provisions or other refreshments, and we only ate old biscuit reduced to powder, and full of grubs, and stinking from the dirt which the rats had made on it when eating the good biscuit, and we drank water that was yellow and stinking. We also ate the ox hides which were under the main-yard, so that the yard should not break the rigging: they were very hard on account of the sun, rain, and wind, and we left them for four or five days in the sea, and then we put them a little on the embers, and so ate them; also the sawdust of wood, and rats which cost half-a-crown each, moreover enough of them were not to be got.
Besides the above-named evils, this misfortune which I will mention was the worst, it was that the upper and lower gums of most of our men grew so much (scurvy was a sickness cause by deficiensies in sailor’s diets) that they could not eat, and in this way so many suffered, that nineteen died, and the other giant, and an Indian from the county of Verzin (Magellan kidnapped two so called ‘giants’ of Patagonia, Verzin the old name of Brasil). Besides those who died, twenty-five or thirty fell ill of diverse sicknesses, both in the arms and legs, and other places, in such manner that very few remained healthy. However, thanks be to the Lord, I had no sickness.
During those three months and twenty days we went in an open sea, while we ran fully four thousand leagues in the Pacific sea.This was well named Pacific, for during this same time we met with no storm, and saw no land except two small uninhabited islands, in which we found only birds and trees. We named them the Unfortunate Islands; they are two hundred leagues apart from one another, and there is no place to anchor, as there is no bottom. There we saw many sharks, which are a kind of large fish which they call Tiburoni. The first isle is in fifteen degrees of austral latitude,[99] and the other island is in nine degrees. With the said wind we ran each day fifty or sixty leagues, or more; now with the wind astern, sometimes on a wind or otherwise. And if our Lord and his Mother had not aided us in giving us good weather to refresh ourselves with provisions and other things, we should all have died of hunger in this very vast sea, and I think that never man will undertake to perform such a voyage.
When we had gone out of this strait, if we had always navigated to the west we should have gone without finding any land except the Cape of the Eleven Thousand Virgins, which is the eastern head of the strait in the ocean sea, with the Cape of Desire at the west in the Pacific sea. These two capes are exactly in fifty-two degrees of latitude of the antarctic pole.
The antarctic pole is not so covered with stars as the arctic, for there are to be seen there many small stars congregated together, which are like to two clouds a little separated from one another, and a little dimmed, in the midst of which are two stars, not very large, nor very brilliant, and they move but little: these two stars are the antarctic pole. Our compass needle still pointed a little to its arctic pole; nevertheless it had not as much power as on its own side and region. Yet when we were in the open sea, the captain-general asked of all the pilots, whilst still going under sail, in what direction they were navigating and pointing the charts. They all replied, by the course he had given, punctually [pricked in]; then he answered, that they were pointing falsely (which was so), and that it was fitting to arrange the needle of navigation, because it did not receive so much force as in its own quarter. When we were in the middle of this open sea we saw a cross of five stars, very bright, straight, in the west, and they are straight one with another.
During this time of two months and twelve days we navigated between west and north-west (maestral), and a quarter west of north-west, and also north-west, until we came to the equinoctial line, which was at [a point] one hundred and twenty-two degrees distant from the line of repartition. This line of delimitation is thirty degrees distant from the meridian, and the meridian is three degrees distant from the Cape Verd towards the east. In going by this course we passed near two very rich islands; one is in twenty degrees latitude in the antarctic pole, and is called Cipanghu; the other, in fifteen degrees of the same pole, is named Sumbdit Pradit. After we had passed the equinoctial line we navigated between west, and north-west and a quarter west, by north-west. Afterwards we made two hundred leagues to westwards, then changed the course to a quarter of south-west, until in thirteen degrees north latitude, in order to approach the land of Cape Gaticara, which cape (under correction of those who have made cosmography), (for they have never seen it), is not placed where they think, but is towards the north, in twelve degrees or thereabouts.
Amid the COVID-19 pandemic and the issues surrounding the acquisition of safe and effective vaccines, it is easy to forget other significant events that shook the country and profoundly shaped the course of our politics in the succeeding years. One of these is Edsa Dos (Edsa 2), whose 20th anniversary falls exactly today, Jan. 17.
Hardly anyone now cares to commemorate this event. Very few young Filipinos know about it. It is not taught in school the same way Edsa 1 — the original People Power Revolution of 1986 — is discussed as marking the end of tyranny and the recovery of democracy.
I was a participant and witness to both events. But, while the four-day popular uprising in February 1986 remains lodged in my political consciousness as an inspiring milestone in our nation’s life, I continue to be bothered by doubt about the legitimacy of what happened in January 2001. I don’t regret joining Edsa Dos, but I have reservations about its outcome.
What prompted this recollection was last week’s violent pro-Trump protest and siege of the US Capitol in Washington, DC, the seat of the US Senate and House of Representatives. The circumstances are different, but it is these differences that invite thoughtful reflection of what it means to defend democratic institutions and the rule of law.
Both cases involve sitting presidents who were fighting off efforts to remove them from office—Donald Trump and Joseph “Erap” Estrada. Trump refused to concede defeat after losing his reelection bid, claiming that his rival, Joe Biden, benefited from alleged large-scale fraud supposedly committed by conspirators who manipulated the Nov. 3 presidential election. Estrada, on the other hand, was facing impeachment for allegedly receiving protection money from gambling lords and appropriating tobacco taxes for his private use.
The differences are stunning. Trump incited his followers to storm the US Congress in order to stop the legislature from confirming Joe Biden’s election as the next president of the United States. The violent tumult that his followers created succeeded in disturbing the proceedings, but, after this unwelcome intrusion was repelled, Congress went on to accomplish what it had to do under the law.
Estrada, who had been duly elected president in 1998, was just entering the second half of his term of office when he was subjected to impeachment. Twenty-one “senator-judges” were hearing the prosecution’s case when the proceedings hit a snag. A senator called for a vote on whether to open an envelope containing bank documents that allegedly incriminated Estrada.
Eleven senators voted not to open, while 10 voted to reveal the envelope’s contents—an outcome that signaled how the final voting on the entire case would likely go. This triggered a dramatic walkout of the prosecutors and opposition senators, prompting then Chief Justice Hilario Davide Jr., who was presiding, to suspend the proceedings. Senate President Aquilino “Nene” Pimentel, who was cochairing the impeachment trial, resigned from his position a few days later, thus throwing the whole process into uncertainty.
Unlike the US Congress, which reconvened a few hours after the mob interrupted its proceedings, the impeachment court that was hearing the case against Estrada failed to complete its duty. It was overtaken by the events that came to be known as “Edsa Dos”—the peaceful days of protest held at the Edsa Shrine that called for the ouster of President Estrada.
The call, led by the Archbishop of Manila Jaime Cardinal Sin, urged Estrada to resign for having lost the “moral authority” to govern. Estrada could have ignored the pressure and toughed it out, or, in the worst-case scenario, he could have incited his followers to defend their president—as Trump did, illegally and irresponsibly.
But, to his credit, faced with the repudiation of his presidency by the country’s religious, business, academic, and media elites, Erap chose to act with humility. When crowds began to gather near the presidential residence, he slipped through the backdoor, hoping to diffuse the tension. He said he was taking a leave, making clear he would not resign. What followed next was a series of events that were as swift as they were startling.
The heads of the armed forces and the police announced they were withdrawing their support and allegiance to the incumbent president. One by one, some members of the Cabinet resigned their positions. After negotiations to get Estrada to resign failed, the chief justice, by the authority given by a majority of the justices, showed up at the Edsa Shrine to swear in Vice President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo as president.
The same high court that had previously sanctioned the proclamation of GMA as “acting” president later pronounced her succession to the presidency constitutional, citing as basis the so-called “constructive resignation” of Estrada. A few months after Arroyo took office, the police arrested the disgraced former president on charges of plunder, a nonbailable offense. His fingerprints and mug shot were taken, completing a ritual of degradation that began with the impeachment. His arrest unleashed a flurry of mass actions that came to be known as “Edsa Tres.”
In a previous column, I argued that while Edsa Tres was suppressed, the populist impulses it embodied have not dissipated. At crucial moments, certain conditions awaken these impulses, bringing to the fore unpredictable types of leaders that go against the grain of institutional politics. Some of them become tyrants.
On 28 November 1520, famed Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan entered “The Sea of the South” having sailed from the Atlantic Ocean through the passage that now bears his name, the Straits of Magellan.
Magellan set sail under the Spanish flag in September of 1519 to find a route through the New World to the Spice Islands. Convinced that the globe could be circumnavigated, Magellan and his five ships made good time to the Americas, arriving there in late fall.
The search for a passage across the land mass proved very difficult, and after spending almost a year and losing one of his ships, Magellan and his small fleet found what would be known as the “Straits of Magellan” in October 1520. It took 38 days to sail through the passage, and on November 28, 1520, Magellan and his remaining ships passed through the mouth of the strait and sailed into the “Sea of the South,” named years earlier by Balboa when he sighted it from land in Panama.
The captain and crew had no idea the sea was as large as it is, and what they surmised to be a two or three day crossing took four months. While the crossing was long, and supplies were almost exhausted, the ocean itself was so calm that the sailors renamed it the “Pacific.” The ships landed in Guam in March of 1521, where they re-supplied and set sail again.
From Pigafetta’ Diary:
“Wednesday, the twenty-eighth of November, 1520, we came forth out of the said strait, and entered into the Pacific sea, where we remained three months and twenty days without taking in provisions or other refreshments, and we only ate old biscuit reduced to powder, and full of grubs, and stinking from the dirt which the rats had made on it when eating the good biscuit, and we drank water that was yellow and stinking. We also ate the ox hides which were under the main-yard,[93] so that the yard should not break the rigging:[94] they were very hard on account of the sun, rain, and wind, and we left them for four or five days in the sea, and then we put them a little on the embers, and so ate them; also the sawdust of wood,[95] and rats which cost half-a-crown[96] each, moreover enough of them were not to be got. Besides the above-named evils, this misfortune which I will mention was the worst, it was that the upper and lower gums of most of our men grew so much[97] that they could not eat, and in this way so many suffered, that nineteen died, and the other giant, and an Indian from the county of Verzin. Besides those who died, twenty-five or thirty fell ill of diverse sicknesses, both in the arms and legs, and other places, in such manner that very few remained healthy. However, thanks be to the Lord, I had no sickness.
During those three months and twenty days we went in an open sea,[98] while we ran fully four thousand leagues in the Pacific sea. This was well named Pacific, for during this same time we met with no storm, and saw no land except two small uninhabited islands, in which we found only birds and trees. We named them the Unfortunate Islands; they are two hundred leagues apart from one another, and there is no place to anchor, as there is no bottom. There we saw many sharks, which are a kind of large fish which they call Tiburoni. The first isle is in fifteen degrees of austral latitude,[99] and the other island is in nine degrees. With the said wind we ran each day fifty or sixty leagues,[100] or more; now with the wind astern, sometimes on a wind[101] or otherwise. And if our Lord and his Mother had not aided us in giving us good weather to refresh ourselves with provisions and other things, we should all have died of hunger in this very vast sea, and I think that never man will undertake to perform such a voyage.
When we had gone out of this strait, if we had always navigated to the west we should have gone[102] without finding any land except the Cape of the Eleven Thousand Virgins, which is the eastern head of the strait in the ocean sea, with the Cape of Desire at the west in the Pacific sea. These two capes are exactly in fifty-two degrees of latitude of the antarctic pole.
The antarctic pole is not so covered with stars as the arctic, for there are to be seen there many small stars congregated together, which are like to two clouds a little separated from one another, and a little dimmed,[103] in the midst of which are two stars, not very large, nor very brilliant, and they move but little:[104] these two stars are the antarctic pole. Our compass needle still pointed a little to its arctic pole; nevertheless it had not as much power as on its own side and region.[105] Yet when we were in the open sea,[106] the captain-general[107] asked of all the pilots, whilst still going under sail, in what direction they were navigating and pointing the charts. They all replied, by the course he had given, punctually [pricked in]; then he answered, that they were pointing falsely (which was so), and that it was fitting to arrange the needle of navigation, because it did not receive so much force as in its own quarter. When we were in the middle of this open sea we saw a cross of five stars, very bright, straight, in the west, and they are straight one with another.[108]
During this time of two months and twelve days we navigated between west and north-west (maestral), and a quarter west of north-west, and also north-west, until we came to the equinoctial line, which was at [a point] one hundred and twenty-two degrees distant from the line of repartition. This line of delimitation is thirty degrees distant from the meridian,[109] and the meridian[110] is three degrees distant from the Cape Verd towards the east.[111] In going by this course we passed near two very rich islands; one is in twenty degrees latitude in the antarctic pole, and is called Cipanghu; the other, in fifteen degrees of the same pole, is named Sumbdit Pradit. After we had passed the equinoctial line we navigated between west, and north-west and a quarter west, by north-west. Afterwards we made two hundred leagues to westwards, then changed the course to a quarter of south-west, until in thirteen degrees north latitude, in order to approach the land of Cape Gaticara,[112] which cape (under correction of those who have made cosmography), (for they have never seen it), is not placed where they think, but is towards the north, in twelve degrees or thereabouts. “
New World 2011 by Pow Martinez (born in Manila 1983)
Il medico francese Paul de la Gironiere (1797–1862), verso il 1850, scrisse “Adventures in the Philippine Islands” e nel primo capitolo del libro racconta come, nel 1820, abbia salvato un altro francese, il capitano Drouant di Marsiglia, dalle mani dalla folla inferocita di Cavite, una zona a sud di Manila. La folla accusava i francesi di essere i responsabili della pandemia di colera che aveva colpito il loro paese. Dopo aver aiutato il capitano a scappare il medico stesso fu aggredito, ma aiutato da un filippino, a cui aveva curato la moglie, fugge a Jala Jala, un villaggio nella Laguna Bay dove vi rimarrà per altri 20 anni. Drouant e Gironiere furono gli unici francesi a salvarsi mentre il resto dei loro connazionali, una quarantina, non sopravvisse al massacro.
Erano i tempi delle prime rotte mercantili navali e nonostante le restrizioni del governo coloniale spagnolo e prima dell’apertura del libero commercio ai paesi esteri, i francesi erano già a Manila alla ricerca dell’abacà una fibra vegetale di alta qualità molto ricercata in Europa e che cresceva solo nelle Filippine.
Tra settembre e ottobre del 1820 il colera si era diffuso, qua e là, nei villaggi lungo il fiume Pasig, Manila, e in particolare nel quartiere di Tondo. Immuni rimasero solo gli abitanti che abitavano all’interno delle mura fortificate costruite secoli addietro dagli spagnoli. I più colpiti furono i poveri e i ‘nativi’ filippini. Ma il primo e vero focolaio fu registrato il 4 ottobre 1820 e nel giro di una settimana migliaia di persone morirono. Ovunque si vedevano carri che trasportavano cadaveri tanto che ben presto non erano rimasti abbastanza sopravvissuti per seppellirli tutti. Tuttavia, ci furono molte altre persone che non morirono per il colera, ma per la frenesia omicida scoppiata contro i presunti responsabili della pandemia: gli stranieri!
Nel resoconto di Paul de la Gironiere, la gente di Cavite se la prese quasi subito con i francesi. Si diceva, infatti, che volevano conquistare le Filippine e per sradicare in massa i nativi tagalog avevano importato ‘cadaveri’ con il colera. Ma ben presto ogni straniero divenne untore. La paranoia culminò il 9 ottobre quando migliaia di scalmanati cominciarono a massacrare, senza distinzione, tutti i forestieri, europei e asiatici, che incontravano, a Cavite, Manila, Binondo e Tondo. Certamente l’ignoranza su cosa era il virus e la natura inspiegabile di ciò che accadeva ai propri cari aveva fatto emergere passioni angoscianti e risentimenti inespressi; la colpa era degli stranieri venuti dal di fuori e che da anni imponevano il loro potere a Manila e in tutto l’arcipelago.
Tra i testimoni oculari del massacro ci fu Pierre Dobell, un americano che serviva come primo console in nome dell’Impero Russo a Manila: “Molte delle povere vittime erano così tagliate che era impossibile riconoscerle”. (Il che mi riporta al termine ‘tad-tad’ (fare a pezzi) da noi spesso udito in Mindanao quando paramilitari, chiamati appunto Tad-Tad, addestrati da militari governativi avevano la mano libera, ma in pugno il machete, per eliminare gli oppositori al regime di Marcos).
Ma? E già! Un virus è pericoloso molto prima che colpisca il fisico delle persone. Avviene attraverso le notizie incontrollate che come un vento malsano provocano malattie nell’anima e nella mente. Più tardi, nel tempo, si capì meglio le ragioni di quello che era successo. Quel colera aveva avuto il suo primo focolare a Jessore in india per poi venir portato in giro nel sudest asiatico con i galeoni delle compagnie delle Indie.
Certo informare il popolo filippino sulle misure da seguire per affrontare una epidemia non era la priorità del governo spagnolo e il popolo si orientava secondo quello che udiva nei vicoli affollati dei loro quartieri. Possiamo percepire ancora oggi, sebbene in minor modo, come viene alimentato lo sgomento di un popolo per mezzo dei computer e smartphone che senza sosta si scambiano informazioni in rete, ‘peer to peer’, 24 ore al giorno. All’inizio del COVID 19, molti italiani, e non solo loro, accusavano i cinesi di aver dato il via all’epidemia, scatenando pesanti insulti sui social network. Fortunatamente su internet passavano, con la stessa velocità, anche altre informazioni più scientifiche, razionali e saggi consigli come affrontare il pericolo (dopo 20 anni Paul de la Gironiere rientrerà in Francia, ma prima dovrà fare 18 giorni di quarantena a Malta). La giusta informazione aiuta parecchio ad affrontare tragedie inaspettate e a guarire l’alito cattivo che proviene dalla malattia dell’anima.
Ora però penso allo strano pensiero che mi è venuto mentre scrivevo tutto questo, quello di cercare sempre qualche consolazione nelle disgrazie altrui: meno male che non ero a Tondo nel 1820 o ad Alzano Lombardo qualche mese fa. Un rifugio in quello che è già accaduto. Una sorta di ‘piacere’ di essere ancora vivo: ma è ingiusto solo pensarlo! Anzi,in termini di pensieri che vanno e vengono, preferisco questo racchiuso nelle parole di Paul de la Gironiere scritte alla fine del suo racconto:
“La società degli uomini cresciuti in una civiltà estremamente avanzata (Francia) non poteva cancellare dalla mia memoria la mia vita modestamente vissuta (nelle Filippine)”.