A Past Denied 2

The seminal boil of resistance was lanced in the “Battle of Mactan” and with it came the moral of the story that no matter what the odds, freedom is always worth fighting for.

Legend has it that Lapu-Lapu and his men simply fought with arrows and bamboo spears; but they fought with great heroism. Their sense of nationalistic pride, love for freedom, had put the foreign invaders to rout. Thus, the battle ended with the Spaniards fleeing back to their boats, leaving their beloved captain — their “light, mirror, and comfort”— to die on the rocky shore.

This resistance was to be reaffirmed many times over when the Spaniards returned in force to colonize the archipelago, especially in Muslim fiefdoms.

Prelude to colonization

As it was, Filipinos of 1521 were not yet Filipinos but indios, Moors or heathens. When the Spanish fleet, led by the heavily bearded Portuguese dreamer and explorer Ferdinand Magellan, reached Samar (and later Cebu), the Philippines then was just an archipelagic cluster of tribes. The notion of state, or region, or common worship or civilization was alien to the natives. Armed to the teeth, each wary of the other, the natives were seemingly preoccupied with sailing the short seas for livelihood, and also to fight.

The excellent chronicler Antonio Pigafetta, who accompanied Ferdinand Magellan’s 1521 expedition in Las Yslas Filipinas, describes the islanders (Samarenos) thusly:

“They have holes in their ears so large that they can pass their arms through them. Those people are caphri, that is to say heathen. They go naked, with a cloth woven from the bark of a tree about their privies, except some of the chiefs who wear the cotton cloth embroidered with silk at the ends by means of a needle. They are dark, fat and painted. They anoint themselves with coconut and beneseed oil for protection against the sun and wind. They have very black hair that falls to the waist, and use daggers, knives and spears ornamented with gold, large shields, fascines, javelins and fishing nets that resemble rizali and their boat are like ours.”

Like politicians of today, the conquistadors too encouraged ignorance. With a country splintered into 7000 islands, the Spaniards must have thought that they could easily rule and exploit the entire archipelago in no time. To make sure that they could lay down their colonial intentions smoothly, the Spaniards saw to it that any kind of unity among the natives was to be avoided at all cost. Necessarily, any effort at coming together was to be discouraged.

In search of paradise

After Magellan’s fateful expedition, the strident wind of colonization began to sweep the country. It was certain that the invaders would return, but the natives were clueless what their real intentions were. And so the Spaniards were back but with a different twist.

Under the common of Miguel Lopez de Legaspi, the Spanish fleet landed in Cebu around 1564. The Spaniards, despite being outnumbered, wasted no time to begin the process of colonization. Using the banner of Catholicism as a tool for subjugation, the colonizers launched a massive military campaign. Worse atrocities were committed to these malleable natives as part of the Spanish Crown’s colonial efforts. The burning of houses, the wholesale looting, and the desecration of the dead in search of gold, were methods used by the Spaniards, not only to force submission from the natives, but also as means to survive in a desolated island. Some of the natives fled, leaving their villages in ruins while others stood their ground only to surrender their freedoms out of fear later. With the disappearance of the old barangays, the Spaniards formed the first Hispanic settlements in Cebu. For three years or so, the Spaniards maintained a main base there while desperately awaiting reinforcements from Spain.

As days dragged into months, and months into years, the Spaniards grew restive, quiescent in a way. With nothing left to plunder and to support them, the restless invaders decided to jettison Cebu. Soon they figured a nearby island that was reported to have abundant food supplies, mainly rice. And so off they sailed to Panay.

Like the natives of Cebu, the Pintados of Panay fiercely resisted the conquistadors, but the colonizers once again prevailed by applying the same level of violence towards the people. Wherever the Spaniards went, villages were looted and burned to ashes. For even with a small military contingent, some of these jingoistic Spanish soldiers were in fact veterans of the Spanish wars. Obviously, these colonial incursions had certainly spurred a “culture shock” among the local population. For the first time, natives would face Castilians as aggressors, puissant and armed, which completely kept them off guard even before the battle began.

Although only a few barangays were virtually conquered, half of Panay’s population perished during these incursions.
The northward expansion

After establishing a new base in Panay, another island far north lured them. This time, the Spanish conquistadors vowed to conquer Manila, a place reported to have large settlements of Bornean Muslims. Quickly, the conquistadors consolidated its forces by putting up a coalition of Visayan allies, mostly fighting men from Cebu and Panay. Recruitment of mercenary soldiers was easy. Spaniards knew for a fact that Visayans were hostile to Manilans because they thought of them as incorrigible barbarians— “Muslims.” This was to have a profound impact on the Christian-Muslim relationship in the future.

With the aid of 1,500 Visayan auxiliaries, the small band of Spaniards decided to move to Manila. The year was 1570.

The northward expansion was, in fact, a vital strategy to complete the process of “possession” and “conquest.” Indeed, if Manila could be taken over by Spaniards, the next logical step would be the “conquest” of Luzon and much of the archipelago. Owing to Manila’s large settlements, soon to follow was the establishment of a unique Spanish colonial institution— the encomienda; a complex political structure employed by the regime to exact tributes and labor services from the indios.

Part III will tackle the beginning of the Moro Wars; the Spaniards versus the Borneans and beyond.

Sources:

O.D. Corpus, The Roots of the Filipino Nation, Vol. I, Quezon City: UP Press, 2010

Abraham “Abet” Iribani, Give Peace A Chance: The Story of the GRP-MNLF Peace Talks, Magbasa Kita Foundation, 2006

Teodoro C. Benigno, “A Dip into the Deep Past,” Here’s the Score, Philippines Today Inc., 1990

A Past Denied (Part 1)

The coming of Islam in the archipelago is an epic tale. And it is a tale we must unfold to better understand the Moro struggle in Mindanao. While Filipinos today take pride that the Philippines remain to be the only Christian nation in Asia, such fact could not have been true had the colonizers arrived a little late. Were it not for the quirks of history, majority of the people today would be worshipping in mosques instead of Catholic cathedrals.

It is undeniable that the advent of Islam antedated the arrival of the Spaniards by two centuries. And so when the great Magellan thrust his Cross in Cebu in 1521, many of the islands had long been under the Crescent. It was only a matter of time before the rest did. But the conquistadors came right on the dot. What could have been a simple expedition in search of spices and lowly peppers became Spain’s iron grip on the spread of the Islamic faith throughout the archipelago.

The coming of Islam

Islam first landed on the shores of Sulu in the early part of the 13th century. Located in the most nearly central position of any island in eastern Malaysia, Sulu stood to gain immense commercial advantages more than any of the scattered islands in the archipelago. Travelling from the Middle East to the Orient, Arab traders from Malacca brought the religion to the area as part of their mission to propagate Islam and to find a new home.

Historians are one in saying that the first Arab missionary to visit the Philippines was Karim Al-Makhdum. Coming from Malacca in 1380, Makhdum established the first Islamic mosque in Simunul, the tiny island in Sulu. From there, Islam began to send branches towards the outskirts of Sulu and beyond. Later on, in 1540, with Islam firmly in place, the Muslim communities in Sulu established the first Sultanate in the archipelago with the messianic Shariful Hashim Abubakar as its progenitor.

The arrival of Islam had indeed brought tremendous changes in the life of the people, especially in their culture. With Islam as the foundation for the establishment of a new superstructure, the scattered datuships or barangays were consolidated into one political entity—the sultanate.

Along with the Islamic schools and the introduction of the Shariah, Islam also enabled the people to feel that they were members of a community larger than their barangays—the Muslim Ummah. Instantly, the new religion blended with pre-Islamic socio-cultural practices of the local population, which even strengthen their ties as a community. By this time, the native Muslims began to see the world differently. Islam did not only give the Muslims a sense of purpose but also a unique identity that would spur fierce resistance against Spanish attempts to subjugate them.

The first quarter of the 16th century saw the spread of Islam in mainland Mindanao. From the mouth of the Pulangi River, the historic Shariff Kabungsuan arrived and founded the Sultanate of Maguindanao. A century later, Islam reached the Lanao areas and had moved further towards north of Luzon. As a result, progressive Muslim settlements sprung in Manila under Rajah Soliman’s tutelage. But his reign was merely an ephemeral episode. Shortly before Islam began to take roots in the region, the colonizers arrived and crushed them.

The bygone period

The winds of change were now blowing all over the archipelago, shaking if not shattering the peaceful coexistence of the people. Except for occasional wars between feuding factions, relations between Muslim and non-Muslim communities were generally peaceful. This was the situation when the Spaniards took “possession” of the islands in the 16th century.

The historian O.D. Corpus in his magnum opus, “Roots of the Filipino Nation,” observes that when the Spaniards came, they brought with them such version of Christianity “with the fire of the fanatic Hispanic branch.” The coming of Islam two centuries ago, however, spells the difference. “Christianity came to the islands as part of an aggressive mission of conquest,” write Corpus. “Islam was brought by the individual efforts of men who came looking for a new home and, because they could not live well without their religion…” Spain’s campaign against Islam has historical and traditional origins. Fresh from the war to recover Granada from the Moors (Muslims of North America) in 1492, they crossed the Pacific Ocean only to meet, once again, their ancient nemesis “halfway around the world from the arena of their earlier conflict.”

When the volley of cannon from the fleet led by the flagship Concepcion reverberated to announce that Christianity had indeed set foot in the archipelago, the message was loud and clear: the Spaniards came not to proselytize “love” and “peace” among the Moors or heathens, but to introduce Christianity through massive military campaign. Like a wolf clothed in sheep’s fur, the thrusting of the Cross, pierced itself onto the once peaceful Mindanao terrain, symbolically ripping its virgin crust and unadulterated layers and forcing out native blood from its wounded limbs. War has ensued.

Note: Part 2 will discuss the Moro wars against Spain and the coming of the Americans.


Sources:
O.D. Corpus, The Roots of the Filipino Nation, Vol. I, Quezon City: UP Press, 2010

The Sabah Claim

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The Broken Vow: Betrayal of a "Saint"

Solitude was this man’s compromise to the bitter-sweet story of concession. In the rarest occasion, he stood alone before the beach, with the sun threatening to shed light to his skeptic thoughts, contemplative of the events that are yet to happen when he finally decides to crack his crucial pronouncement. He was torn between them and only God knows how he prayed after another to arise with the sanest and noblest decision.

“What would my father do if he were in my place?” he mumbled to himself more than once. Gawking into the wilderness of the sea, the rising sun shone more on his esteemed being and lineage, he convinced himself as he traverse back the path that led him where he is now. Indeed, history has its trends, phases and rhythms. This was his; but we must know because it’s ours.

The glory days of Doy and UNIDO

In 1984, Salvador “Doy” Laurel was on top of his game with his star seemingly pointed at the presidency. After the murder of Ninoy Aquino, Doy took over the opposition’s helm and reorganized his own political juggernaut, the United Nationalist Democratic Organization or UNIDO. Doy tirelessly went around the country to spread UNIDO’s network, stoking brushfires into an anti-Marcos firestorm. Eventually, Marcos made his biggest blunder of holding parliamentary elections in the same year. Opposition bigwigs meanwhile opted for a boycott arguing that Marcos would just rig the elections but Doy Laurel was not convinced. He reasoned with the Liberals to reconsider their decision arguing that this was the best time to risk everything— “to give the democratic alternative one last chance.” Old Man Tanada and Diokno, however, prominent stalwarts of the boycott movement, would not budge on their decision. But they reckoned wrong, as it turned out.

To be able to pitch UNIDO’s tent nationwide, Doy desisted himself from running as a candidate. Despite UNIDO’s shoestring budget, Doy, along with Eva Estrada Kalaw, didn’t mind having to deliver his impromptu speeches on small makeshift stages. Behind the microphone, Doy Laurel bewailed: “Kung inde tayo sisigaw, sino ang sisigaw? Kung inde ngayon, kalian pa?” As his stentorian voice rose in anger against dictatorship, the crowds roared, and kept roaring with every sally.

As it was, the political cauldron had started to seethe earlier than expected. UNIDO bagged about a third of the seats and even swept Metro Manila, Imelda’s fiefdom. UNIDO could have won more, much more, except that the Marcos regime decided it couldn’t have more than a third. The First Lady, of course, was fuming mad. She bore defeat on her shoulders with a vengeance so much so that the President had to pack her off to the United States for a respite.

Undoubtedly, Doy Laurel and UNIDO had a profound impact on the nation’s political climate during the senescent years of the Marcos regime. By all accounts, Doy was next in line after UNIDO’s splendid performance in 1984, even Washington had him on top of the list of successor to Ferdinand Marcos.

But as fate would have it, the historic wave reached for a grieving woman instead of any of the other opposition aspirants lining up to battle Ferdinand Marcos for the 1986 snap elections.

Not quite

Towards the end of 1985, President Marcos was faced with another political compromise. The increasing international pressures, accompanied by rumors that the president was in poor health, he was forced to call an early presidential election. By then, Doy Laurel was already UNIDO’s presidential standard bearer following the historic and colorful nominating convention attended by more than 25,000 delegates and opposition leaders. The momentous occasion was graced by no less than Cory Aquino herself, endorsing his candidacy.

But not everyone was happy with Doy Laurel. Much of the anti-Marcos forces, those who were loyal to the Catholic hierarchy, distrusted him deeply. Unfairly, he was branded as the ultimate politician often seen to be very much like the guy they were trying to get rid of. But perhaps the real reason for this is the fact that Marcos owed a lot to the Laurels, including his life, he would never dare to touch any of them. And so, despite his unblemished record as public servant, and not to mention his lonely effort to forge a unified opposition, Doy Laurel was vilified in public as overly ambitious and an opportunist.

Enter the “saint”

It was opposition leader, Neptali Gonzales who first suggested that Cory Aquino should run for president. But Cory made no bones about the fact that all she wanted was to become the symbol for the restoration of democracy, running for president, she intoned, was a crazy idea. Indeed, she was a novice, unlettered in the art of politics. Then lo and behold, just two days after Marcos announced that a snap election will be held on February 7, 1986, Cory suddenly heard the “voice of God.” To further test the mettle of her alleged divine calling, Cory issued a soaring challenge that she would run for president if presented with one million signatures.

Reality began to unfurl before Doy. Cory Aquino’s political somersault took Doy by surprise. Many times, and in many occasions, Cory denied having any intention to be nominated, much less running for president. At first, Doy was clearly secured with his position. After UNIDO’s stunning victory, the road was open, wide open for Doy Laurel to enter Malacanang. And so it seemed.

Interestingly, the art of politics is exercised best when trends are spotted in time. To counter UNIDO, other opposition leaders were quick to organize the Convenor’s Group, while PDP-Laban and Salonga’s wing of the Liberals ventured a new political alliance. All these groups had one candidate in mind, and that was Cory Aquino.

This development presented a big problem for Doy as some of his UNIDO supporters defected, leaving him increasingly isolated. To avert a split, tedious negotiations came one after the other. Doy, for his part, sincerely believed (and rightly so) he had a better right over Cory or anyone else. But Cory held her cards close to her chest and pretended to be “neutral” all along, presumably on the advice of her cordon sanitaire.

Pressed for time, Doy resigned himself to a higher power. That was when Doy, together with Soc Rodrigo, sought the help of Cardinal Sin. Teary-eyed, seemingly hurt and bruised, Doy Laurel took the Cardinal’s advice in stride. For nearly six years, all Doy ever did was to fight, organize and head the opposition at a critical time when it was foolhardy to do so, now it was time to make the ultimate sacrifice for the nation— he was yielding to Cory Aquino.

Ever the gentleman, Doy Laurel once again reached out to Cory. In this meeting, Doy proposed to Cory that she should run as president with a racehorse, and that was UNIDO, the dominant opposition party at that time. Again, proud Cory vacillated. Left with no choice, Doy Laurel, along with his supporters, marched to COMELEC to file his certificate of candidacy as UNIDO’s standard bearer.

The mother of all promises

Cory Aquino recoiled and agreed to run under the banner of UNIDO. The next day another meeting was set. This time both camps arrived at a compromise, and a pledge that would place Salvador “Doy” Laurel in the lotus land of might have been.

By Doy Laurel’s terse account, (and this was never refuted by Cory Aquino in her lifetime), Cory reiterated her previous offer to Doy: that he would be Prime Minister while she would only be ceremonial President; that she would step down in two years; and that Doy would name 30 percent of the cabinet and the rest would be decided by them as they go along. By nightfall, hours before the COMELEC deadline, Doy Laurel eventually capitulated and extended his hand to Cory. Visibly overwhelmed by Doy’s statesmanlike chivalry, Cory held Doy’s hands and quipped, “Thank you, Doy, I’ll never forget this.”

Unknowing of the awaiting betrayal, he finished his recollection and recouped himself. It was time to move forward. The country must move forward.

In a joke of fate however, Cory did forget and Doy was sluggishly forgotten. Doy, in fact, has recounted in his book Neither Trumpets Nor Drums (1992), the vow that Cory has repeatedly broken:

AN INITIALED AGREEMENT

Cory then turned to my two brothers and said: “i-formalize na ninyo an gating pinagkasunduan.” But Kuta Pito replied: “Hindi na kailangan i-formalize pa iyan. Lalong masakit lamang kapag hindi tinupad.” I reminded Cory that she had already initialed all the items we had agreed upon on a piece of paper at the residence of Teng Puyat: “I still have that piece of paper. Maliwanag na maliwanag na naman an gating pinagkasunduan. Ang mahalaga’y ang nilalaman ng puso.”

Indeed unbecoming of someone later seen by many as apt for sainthood, this depraved behavior, has been retold by other history writers too. Teodoro Benigno in his book, “Here’s the Score” parroted Cory’s words saying, “Babangitin ko pa ba iyang Doy na iyan, o pipitikin na lang ba natin na parang langaw?”

And now these stories have to be told for they have ill-delivered one man to not only solitariness but oblivion. More importantly, the broken and forgotten promise force us to consider the what ifs. What if this promise was given a chance? What if Cory believed in Doy’s mantra that “nation above all”?

Unsurprisingly, the assertive Doy, took the chance to ask these questions to Cory in his lifetime. He valiantly asked Cory, as recounted in Neither Trumpets Nor Drums, and hereby quoted in verbatim:

“‘Whatever happened to all those promises you made, Cory? Why was the Constitution abolished even without even telling me? Why did you appoint me Chairman of the Presidential Blue Ribbon Commission to investigate the behest loan only to be suddenly abolished again? Why am I now being asked to submit courtesy resignation— just because Joker Arroyo and Concepcion had a shouting match?’ Cory looked down and gave a halting reply:

‘I was told…that the EDSA revolution…erased all those promises…’”

Yes, she was just told. She was told to run and she ran. She was told to disregard Doy and she did. She was told. That’s why it’s high time to tell she was. And this I wasn’t just told.