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Student Research submissions 2015 (2015 research options) Research Journal |
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Joseph
Bernard
12
November 2015
Wrestling with change: The Filipino
colonial conundrum
A relative unknown:
A globe positioned on the continent of Asia reveals a massive swath of
land that engulfs seemingly the entire allotted portion of the map. Adjacent to
this large region are a series of islands, an archipelago of small dots that
comprise one very complex nation. The Philippines is a realm that most Americans
have heard of in passing during a high school world geography class or even met
a Filipino or two during their lifetime. However, one would be hard pressed to
discover much of any Filipino culture, literature or history in the Western
curriculum. Instead, one is subjected to the Chinese empires (including Mao’s
Communist reign) and Japanese dynasties that flow into a horrific bombing which
changed the course of that nation forever. Even South Asia receives some
attention, India, Sri Lanka and other nations in the region garnering attention
at secondary and post-secondary international fests. With this severe lack of
focus, it should be no surprise that Filipino literature has not received
coverage in the classroom or circulated to the general populace. It would be
rather simple to blame this on “Western bias” or educational officials, but this
journal proposes a different perspective to view the absence of Filipino
literary works in the American mind. China, Japan, Russia, India and other Asian
nations have distinct identities that one can point to as rock-solid markers of
culture such as the samurai of Japan or the Mandates of Heaven that dictated
empires in China, but the Filipino historical narrative does not lend itself to
cultural distinctness; rather, the Filipino identity is comprised of repeated
colonial and post-colonial experiences that have effectively muddled the easy
cultural markers that most rely on when classifying groups of people. The
Filipino identity is rooted in how an unknown group of natives were radically
changed forever by forces of colonization, which in turn has influenced the
concepts and philosophies presented in Filipino literature. By analyzing the
historical effects of both Spanish and Japanese colonization, the Filipino
identity is revealed as an ever-changing concept that Filipinos continue to
wrestle with in the twenty-first century.
Historical context:
In order to understand the fluidity of Filipino identity, one must first
have a working knowledge of Filipino history. The historical portion of the
journal will be broken into two categories: the Spanish occupation and the
Japanese invasion.
The Spanish Occupation:
Author and historian Jon Sterngass chronicles the relationship between
the Spanish and native Filipinos in his book
The New Immigrants: Filipino Americans,
in which he begins his work discussing how the native inhabitants of the
Philippines were discovered by Ferdinand Magellan and the Spanish in 1521. The
explorer was quickly murdered along with most of his crew by the natives who
refused to take foreigners into the fold. One ship managed to escape and news
traveled back to Spain, which results in more ships exploring the Pacific for
resources. In 1543, an unnamed Spanish captain proclaimed that the series of
islands would be named after Prince (soon to be King) Philip the Second, and soon
after Spanish rule began in 1565. After establishing the capital city of Manila
as a trade port in 1600, the Spanish settled into a nearly three-hundred-year
reign over the islands, heavily shaping the direction of Filipino identity
(Sterngass 24-25).
Specific to the discourse of the journal, Filipino storytelling
traditions and oral literature were impacted heavily. Francis and Priscilla
Macansantos, both renowned Filipino authors and scholars, have this to say about
Filipino storytelling and tradition in their article “Philippine Literature in
the Spanish Colonial period”: “The Spanish colonial strategy was to undermine
the native oral tradition by substituting for it the story of the Passion of
Christ. . . . [T]he appeal of the Jesus myth inhered in the protagonist’s superior
magic. . . . [H]e democratized the power to rise above death” (Macansantos and
Macansantos). Any oral tradition that involved native myths were substituted for
by
Spanish Catholicism, which would be further reinforced by the monopolizing of
printing presses: “Until the 19th century, the printing presses were
owned and managed by the religious orders. . . . [R]eligious themes dominated the
culture”(Macansantos and Macansantos). However, both authors point out that
“the native tradition survived and even flourished in areas inaccessible to the
colonial power,” meaning that there was high potential for both Spanish and
native myths to intermingle, blending native identity in with the colonizing
power (Macansantos and Macansantos).
As colonial rule cemented itself in the Philippines, native culture
became synonymous with Spanish culture, so much so that when national public education
was established in 1863, it was the Spanish church that controlled curriculum,
shaping the education and identity of the entire nation. The Encyclopedia
Britannica illustrates how the educational standards the Spaniards attempted to
establish backfire on them rather quickly: “Many sons of the wealthy were sent
to Europe to study. There, nationalism and a passion for reform blossomed. . . . Out of
this talented group of overseas Filipino students arose what came to be known as
the Propaganda Movements. Magazines, poetry and pamphleteering flourished”
(“Philippines”). One of these students, Jose Rizal, emerged as a prominent hero
and figurehead for the independence of the Philippines. Sterngass makes mention
of Rizal in his work: “Rizal established the Filipino League, an organization
dedicated to land redistribution and peaceful reform on the islands” (25).
Unfortunately, Rizal was executed by the Spanish, but this vicious maneuver
“caused a full-scale rebellion against Spanish rule,” prompting Filipino leaders
for the independence movement such as Emilio Aguinaldo to free several villages
and towns from Spanish rule and declare the Philippines an independent
nation (26). It is not until the United States defeated the Spanish in the
Spanish-American war that the Philippines would even be considered for
liberation from any colonial power.
(Note:
Due to the nature of the journal, the author has chosen to omit heavy analysis
of American involvement with the Philippines.)
The Japanese Invasion:
With the Spanish out of the picture, America swept through the
archipelago, helping the Philippines receive basic necessities. 1936 marks the
first year that the Philippines was designated a “commonwealth” by the United
States, a self-governing entity free of being monitored by any power. It was a
grand step towards independence and establishing a true Filipino identity, but
the Japanese had other ideas. In 1942, the Japanese invaded and conquered
Manila, maintaining a stranglehold over the country for two long, oppressive
years. Sterngass chronicles how the Japanese attempted to convert Filipinos to
their party line: “The Japanese tried . . . establishing a ‘Philippine Republic.’ The
slogan ‘Asia for Asians’ . . . turned out to mean ‘Asia for the Japanese.’ Filipinos
suffered greatly from the . . . occupation, and the Japanese-supported ‘puppet’
government gained little support” (30-31). It is not until 1945 that the
Philippines has self-government restored, but the brutality and cruelty of the
Japanese remained firmly embedded as a factor in shaping Filipino identity.
Prison of war camps, propaganda slathered across walls, and atrocities committed
to innocents were seen firsthand by survivors and recorded for posterity,
whether through media or memory. Details of these conditions are chronicled in a
memoir entitled On World War II: Recollections of a Young Filipino boy, in which
Bibiano Benemerito, a former United Nations officer, chronicles his experiences
with the Japanese incursion. The Japanese imposed their will upon the Filipinos
both physically and mentally, as alluded to previously. Benemerito gives an
example of the duality of the Japanese occupation when he records an interaction
between enslaved Filipino boys doing dirty work for the colonizing forces: “The
Japanese soldiers exclaimed ‘Banzai, banzai, banzai’ . . . . The young ones, much
against their will, followed suit for fear that their anti-Japanese emotions
might betray them.” The potential threat of brutality is contrasted with the
“Asia for Asians” philosophy: “The Japanese Imperial Forces…addressed the
[Filipino] boys. ‘In the name of the Japanese Imperial Forces, I commend you for
the work you have done for us. You can go home…Tell your people that we…are here
to liberate you from the clutches and chains of the American
imperialists’”(Benemerito 26). Enslavement and the promise of liberation was a
continual dichotomy that the Filipinos had to deal with under the heel of the
Japanese, among other threats. Thankfully, the Japanese were thwarted and their
presence evaporated after World War II. Their vacancy left the Filipinos free of
colonizing forces for the first time since the pre-Magellan age.
Picking up the pieces:
Both the Spanish and the Japanese occupied the Philippines as colonizing
forces, albeit with dramatically different durations. However, the respective
colonizers made equally lasting contributions to the Filipino identity, shaping
and molding it into what it is today. Filipinos fought for independence
valiantly, but when it was granted, they were faced with a troubling question:
what exactly defined Filipino culture and identity? It is through historical
accounts, retelling of age old stories through memoir and the analysis of
Filipino literature where one can begin to comprehend just how pressing the
issue of identity is to the Filipinos.
For the
remainder of the journal, the contents will be split up into two overarching
areas: memoir and poetry.
Memoir:
Many older Filipinos have been entreated to record their encounters with
colonizing forces in print so that those who come after them will appreciate the
difficulties that Filipinos have had with their identity. One such narrative is
a memoir written by Pati Navalta Poblete entitled
The Oracles: My Filipino Grandparents in
America. Poblete records memories of her grandparents along with lessons
they taught her about culture, race, and identity, which pertain to the
discussion at hand.
Poblete’s interactions with her grandparents while she goes through the
turbulence of middle school reveals much about how the colonization of the
Philippines translates into a specific mindset held by Filipinos, even ones that
occupy America. This is reflected in Poblete’s first day of middle school,
during which both sets of grandparents are preparing her for school. An
observation is made in the narrative worthy of note: “What they had prepared me
for wasn’t the first day of middle school. Instead, it was the first day of
school in another country, where children dressed differently…they had prepared
me for something that was happening thousands of miles away”(Poblete 50).
Through Poblete, the grandparents seek to preserve Filipino identity, attempting
to mold even her before school preparations to match what they saw in their
native country. This is a mindset that seeks to cling, not to assimilate, the
latter being a very familiar course of action for the Filipino people. Whether
Japanese, Spanish, or even American, the Filipinos have had cultural and social
overseers for most of their known existence. It should not be shocking to read
that Filipino-Americans who have immigrated to another country would want to
fight against being assimilated again. Continuing in this vein, the author makes
an even more direct statement about the resistance to assimilation: “Their sole
purpose in coming to this country was to beat down my American will until I
became one of them” (51). An interesting phrase located in the statement is “my
American will.” Poblete was born into a Filipino-American family, but the
American portion was perceived as an unnecessary part of her identity. Only the
Filipino should exist, the “native” or “true” part of her.
As her grandparents continue to interact with her and attempt to stifle
the “American” within her, so does Poblete continues to fight harder against the
concept of being exclusively “Filipino.” A rather humorous example of this is
when the author recounts her anxiety about a middle school dance: “My first
middle school dance was coming up and all I wanted to do was distance myself…For
once, I wanted to just be an average girl at an ordinary dance in a smelly gym.”
(71) She is refusing to conform with the idea of being Filipino, instead
choosing to embrace the culture around her, going so far as to call the culture
around her “normal.” There does not appear to be a shared spared between
Filipino and American; rather, there is only room for one culture. Much weight
is placed on the preservation of Filipino culture by Poblete’s grandparents, as
seen in the opening pages, which are divided between exchanges and reflection: “
‘Give me that mop! That will not get the floors clean…We do not use those in the
Philippines…Now come here and wipe the floor the way I showed you. After you are
done, I will show you how to wash the clothes by hand.’” Even in simplistic acts
of cleaning, the Filipino mindset presented here is one of preservation, one of
stability of identity even in a completely other country. Pobelte concludes this
about the Filipino mindset of preservation: “She saw every moment that I watched
television, played outside, or stared out the window as signs of my idle nature.
Her mission in America was to reprogram me.” (10) There is a kind of hostility
that is manifested towards other cultural mindsets that could potentially seep
in and “contaminate” the Filipino mindset.
As I have proceeded further into the study of Filipino memoir, I have
noticed that there are varying degrees of “cultural contamination” that
Filipinos can feel towards a foreign culture. A number of perspectives are
contained within Yen Le Espiritu’s academic work
Filipino American Lives that reflect
the differing ideas on preserving Filipino cultural identity. In an account
taken from Nemesia Cortez, a Filipino mother and immigrant to America, has this
to say about her cultural preservation tactics: “When people ask me who I am, I
say I am a Filipino. I never tell them that I am American…my blood is still
Filipino” (Espiritu 123). It is fascinating to note that Cortez is willing to
identify herself as Filipino when asked who she was, not what race or ethnicity
she belongs to. This speaks to the idea that Filipino identity seeps into the
very core of a person and cannot be relegated to the status of a label or
category. Cortez gives more insight into what she perceives Filipino identity is
and why that is worth preserving: “Being Filipino is important to me because I
respect my father and mother. To respect them, I am still a Filipino…To me, the
Filipino way is to respect other people.” (124) By identifying oneself as a
Filipino, by implication, means that you are a respectable individual, that
others around you are just as valuable are you. This respect translates over,
according to Cortez, in taking on some “foreign” or non-Filipino ways: “I like
some Americans' way. For example, when the old Filipinos gets mad, they don’t
want to talk to you, period. But the Americans, when they did something wrong,
they would admit that they were wrong…” (125). Cortez does not see specific
American cultural traditions or customs as wrong, unlike Poblete’s grandparents
that were more than happy to “reprogram” or shun every single possible trace of
foreign identity.
Some Filipinos seem to want to reject that portion of their identity
altogether, going so far as to be offended by recent immigrants that remind them
of what they are trying to leave behind. Another account recorded by Espiritu is
from Dario Villa, a Filipino-American activist who was deemed “FOB” or “Fresh
off the Boat” upon his arrival to America many years ago. This meant that he was
a walking representation of all that is Filipino, or at least that is how he was
perceived: “To my surprise, I offended many Filipinos because I was an
‘FOB”…That made my immigration experience more painful. I was ridiculed because
my accent reminded them of their parents” (172). Villa continues this account by
recording his troubles in college with more “assimilated” Filipino-Americans: “A
number of times in my classes, there were Filipinas who giggled and displayed
bodily discomfort when I spoke. I was a reminder of the image they hate, part of
themselves.” (172) While Poblete’s grandparents were vehemently attempting to
eradicate any influence of foreign culture, Villa records that there is another
end to the spectrum. Filipino-Americans want to associate themselves with the
latter, not the former. Cortez adds to this discussion by mentioning: “My oldest
[daughter] likes to be Americanized…She just wants to go out and have a good
time.” (125) Descendants of Filipino-Americans such as Cortez’s daughter,
Villa’s classmates and Poblete seem to desire a way to break free of their
Filipino identity, purposefully excluding and replacing it with the foreign
culture.
Through memoir, one can understand that the Filipino identity is under
constant re-evaluation by those who carry it. There are those who want to
preserve the “Filipino” and others who wish to assimilate with the foreign.
There are also those who accept that both the foreign and the traditional are
worthy of preservation, but it does not appear from the sources perused that
they are an expansive group. The dominant groups, those that reject and those
that assimilate, are radical in their stances, the former reacting in a manner
similar to those who are grateful for having shreds of identity to hang onto,
seeing as the Filipino identity has been under fire by colonizing forces for
hundreds of years. Yet, the other group does not seem to value that portion of
themselves, wanting to be as “normal” or as “foreign” as possible. Affiliation
with the “other” is a desired outcome, so much so that the “other” becomes
“self”. But what is the Filipino “self”? This has not been answered in the
memoir. Filipino identity is alluded to and steadfastly proposed as a philosophy
of “respect”, but what are the specifics? This is woefully incomplete. I propose
that this absence of knowledge can be filled by analyzing poetry and literature,
hopefully answering the question of what Filipino identity consists of.
Poetry:
Filipino poetry is not a widely taught topic, but thankfully there are a
few compendiums of poetry assembled for analysis. One of them, entitled
Returning a borrowed tongue, provides
a number of poems to consider in light of Filipino identity. More than likely
not a coincidence, editor Nick Carbo chooses to start the anthology with a poem
about Filipino identity entitled “The Light in One’s Blood” by Gemino H. Abad.
The poem encapsulates a struggle with Filipino identity in the context of
language, which is the medium of story-telling and preservation. As alluded to
earlier in the journal, Filipino stories and cultural markers were passed down
orally until formal education was set up by the Spanish, which means that
language was a primary focus for Filipinos until the colonizers changed this.
Abad opens his poem by alluding to this and more: “To seek our way of
thinking/by which our country is found,/I know but do not know,/for its language
too is lost.” (Abad 1-4) The poet desires to find “our way of thinking”, the
Filipino identity that seems to escape grasping, but he concludes that “its
language too is lost.” Expressing the uniqueness of Filipino identity is lost to
the poet, unable to distinguish between his culture and the “other” culture lost
on him due to a loss of “language”. Abad furthers the idea of a “loss of
language” in his second stanza when he says this: “Speaking is fraught with
other speech./Through all our fathers, Spain/And America had invented our
souls/and wrought our land and history.” (9-12) Abad implies that the language
once known to the native Filipinos is gone, replaced and “fraught with other
speech”. The very medium of communication has been colonized, fathered by others
instead of the native peoples.
It is
worthy of note that Abad uses the phrase “invented our souls”, seeing as one of
the major implementations of the Spanish was Catholicism, a religious system
that focused heavily on the saving and deliverance of the soul. Not only is this
an allusion to the Catholic system, but also a searing commentary on Filipino
identity. According to the poet, it has been invented by others, a creation of
another’s brainpower. To express the true “Filipino culture”, Abad proposes that
one should look to the earth:
The soil
is ours, and inters
the
secret bones of our loss.
We must
know our loss…
Speak
now, collect every bone,
lay the
pieces together.
Here is
true speaking- (41-47)
Here
lie two critical parts of the Filipino identity. One portion lies in the
“secret bones of our loss” that Abad mentions. He is insistent that the
Filipinos “know” their “loss”. But what was lost? As mentioned earlier in the
poem, it is the ability to pass on cultural identity through language. One can
learn cultural identity through the sacrifices of those gone before and others
who made themselves icons of the Filipino cause. It is a respect for ancestors,
a reverence for those who have come before that belongs in the folds of Filipino
identity. The other part of identity is the physical land of the Philippines.
Abad firmly believes that the land of the Philippines will always belong to the
native Filipinos and acts as a guardian for those who have gone before. Revere
the land and the ancestors; these are two key parts of Filipino identity.
Echoing these two parts of Filipino identity is the poem “Dinakdakan”
composed by Maria Aguilar-Carino, in which she reminisces fondly on an ancestor.
She reveres the ancestor’s cultural identity, as evidenced by the following:
It was
you, plunging a bare
arm into
a pail of still-breathing milkfish,
certain
which had the sweetest belly;
knowing
where to find
tamarind
pods cracking
out of
their rinds for ripeness. (Carino 24-29)
The way
the ancestor can navigate the world around her syncs up with Abad’s proposition
about Filipino identity. The land is to be respected and is a keeper of secrets,
but the ancestor seems to be able to navigate them quite well, such as her
knowledge of which fish was the sweetest or what area had the ripest tamarinds.
Maria adds to Abad’s argument by showing that those who have gone before must be
respected because of their knowledge and appreciation for the native land. As
Maria reflects upon her ancestor with fondness, her closing lines are a reminder
that the colonizing forces cannot impinge upon these facets of Filipino
identity: “Above the click and hum/of computerized cash registers/I hear your
singing knife/slice pigs’ ears paper-thin.” (42-45) Even with the crowding of
colonization, the poet refuses to give into the colonizing identity, instead
choosing to cling to her Filipino identity.
Adding a layer of complexity to Filipino identity is “my mother” written
by Virginia Cerenio, wherein the poet blends both the traditional element of
Filipino identity pointed out by the previous two poets and throwing in the
influence of colonization to form a complicated picture. Cerenio says that her
mother is like “an Ingrid Bergman movie/a 1940’s silver screen star/aging
gracefully” (Cerenio 2-4) While respect, admiration and reverence was included
in her description, there is also the “invented language” that Abad attributes
to the American influence on Filipino language. American is blended into
Filipino identity, as evidenced further in the poem: “she babysits in
Americanized Pilipino top 40 radio rock-n-roll…/so unlike her sisters, in their
flowered housefrocks and tsinelas/the rolling river behind grandfather’s
house/have yet to wet her delicate hands.” (7-18) Cerenio almost seems to look
down on the “traditional” Filipino women, priding herself in her mother’s
“delicate” hands. This is a sharp contrast to both Abad’s idea of holding fast
to tradition and Carino’s ancestor worship. Cerenio has no problem lauding her
mother for being Filipino, but also being American.
The complexity of identity:
Colonization has made an obvious impact on the Filipino landscape.
Catholic churches loom over Coca-Cola stands, old women wash their clothing in
steel buckets while young hipsters with tattered jeans text on the latest
Android device, but the biggest impact that colonization has made is in the
Filipino self / other discussion. Filipino “self” has been dictated by colonizing
forces, being invented by the “other” in order to convert the natives to another
way of life. Some Filipinos fight to this day to preserve whatever shreds of
Filipino identity they can hold onto, which according to the expressive poetry
analyzed, are respect for both ancestry and the land where they came from. Other
Filipinos desire to reject their tradition, blending in with the colonizing
power, as shown by Cerenio’s poem.
I am left slightly perplexed at how complex the issue of identity is for
the Filipinos and have a number of questions that are still lingering in my
brain at the end of the journal. Is identity somehow invalidated if a colonizing
force’s cultural standards are imbibed? Can identity somehow be “negated” by
colonization? Or does colonization enhance identity, forcing itself into the
culture of the colonized and make itself an identifiable and sometimes welcome
part of traditional cultural identity? In terms of the Filipinos themselves, I
feel as if this generation of contemporary Filipinos are just now beginning to
realize how difficult it is to reconcile the Filipino identity. Hopefully, their
struggles will result in a firm balance between tradition and change that will
allow Filipinos to proudly claim their status and heritage without fear of being
invalidated.
Works Cited
Benemerito, Bibiano Arzadon Y. On World War II: Recollections of
a Young Filipino Boy. Bloomington, IN: AuthorHouse, 2008. Print.
Carbó, Nick. Returning a Borrowed Tongue: Poems by Filipino and
Filipino American Writers. Minneapolis: Coffee House, 1995. Print.
Espiritu, Yen Le. Filipino American Lives. Philadelphia:
Temple UP, 1995. Print.
Macansantos, Francis, and Priscilla Macansantos. "Philippine
Literature in the Spanish Colonial Period." National Commission for Culture
and Arts. Office of the President, 14 Apr. 2015. Web. 1 Nov. 2015.
"Philippines." Encyclopedia Britannica Online. Encyclopedia
Britannica, n.d. Web. 01 Nov. 2015.
Poblete, Pati Navalta. The Oracles: My Filipino Grandparents in
America. Berkeley, CA: Heyday, 2006. Print.
Sterngass, Jon. Filipino Americans. New York: Chelsea House, 2007. Print.
