Today in history was the first time that the Philippine flag was flown in battle. To be exact, it was May 28, 1898.
Our flag has a very colorful and somewhat dark past.
For one, the original blue color of our banner was not Royal Blue as authorized by the post-war Philippine government, but was the American Navy Blue (the blue color used in the Star-Spangled Banner). It was done so because Aguinaldo was so much inclined to get the support of the United States in our war against Spain (to Mabini’s disgust. Mabini suspected the Americans would not keep their word).
Two, the three stars were not representative symbols of Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao as it is meant now, but rather Luzon, Mindanao and the island of Panay.
Third, the vibrant 8-ray sun was a totally inclusive symbol of the 8 Tagalog provinces that fought for our independence. This is somewhat weird when faced with the fact that the entire nation, not just the Tagalogs, were involved in the national fight against Spain and later on, the United States. There was even a suggestion to change the meanings of the 8 rays, or add another ray representing the Moros of the south who also gave their blood for the country. It would indeed be good for us to change the meanings and not be taken by our novelty of old and archaic meanings that promote division in the country.
Amidst all this ambiguity, as a historian, I celebrate the National Flag Day NOT because it was a victorious flag of nationalism (because it was not), NOT because it gives us pride as a race but because it symbolizes our depravity as a nation, and valor in spite of it. We will never overcome this depravity on our own, as it is universal in all the nations of the world. But somehow, the valor that God gave those who came before us, those who fought for the country under this soiled banner even when the leadership was weak and futile, should give us a heart of gratitude. If not for Divine Providence, we would not become a nation.
(Art above: “The Making of the Philippine Flag” by Fernando Amorsolo)
WHAAAT? History (my favorite field of study) and Math (my ever-so-depressing Waterloo), together???
I have to admit though that this is… so (grin) cool.
Reminds me of Isaac Asimov’s ‘Psychohistory.’
When the bullet was fired 115 years ago on this day (May 10, 1897), it showed us that the Filipino race is as depraved as any other race on the face of the earth.
It is a sad fact that in our history as a people, while Filipinos were fighting for liberty against Spain, some could kill even their own for selfish ambition. The demise of the Bonifacio brothers, Andres and Procopio, sentenced to death by a one-sided Filipino tribunal on the mountains of Maragondon, Cavite in 1897 was a pure example of the depth of feudalism plaguing our country. Our leaders then were tested and were found wanting.
In commemoration of the death of Andres Bonifacio, the “Ama ng Katipunan” and the one who ignited the Philippine Revolution of 1896, the first nationalist revolution in Asia. His fire was extinguished by his own fellowmen.
(Image above from La Ilustracion Espanola y Americana dated 1897)
In commemoration of the 70th anniversary of the Fall of Corregidor.
Corregidor Island was the last bastion of the Philippine transitional government (Philippine Commonwealth) that held out from the Japanese beginning December 1941 to May 6, 1942. It is a rocky island on the mouth of Manila bay that served as a fortress armed with weapons to protect the whole bay area. The Japanese army, never did enter the bay, and instead amassed its forces from the north and the southeast of Luzon, converging its forces in Manila. The invasion began a few hours after the Japanese attack of Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, then the base of the USAFFE. When the Empire of Japan closed in on the whole of Southeast Asia, it was only Bataan and Corregidor that were left standing. Bataan, a peninsula near Corregidor, fell on April 9, 1942, but Corregidor held out a month more, aborting the Japanese plan to conquer Australia.
While it is admirable that the Filipino and American forces fiercely protected the sovereignty of the Commonwealth of the Philippines, there was still inequality among the ranks. Take for example the food that was given to the soldiers. Filipinos were given sardines (although this does not necessarily mean this was of lower quality compared to other food) and Americans were given meat. Nevertheless, Filipino and American soldiers have proven their bravery, that inspired Douglas MacArthur’s promise, “I shall return.”
With the lowering of morale, and with the news that the U.S. would prioritize Europe (against the Nazi expansion) than Asia, over 13,000 soldiers (Filipinos and Americans alike) held out with measly rations and weapons until its surrender.
The writer who ended a 300-year long occupation
An Israeli commentator highlights Jose Rizal and his revolutionary legacy. The pen is indeed mightier than the sword. Mya Guarnieri, a Jerusalem-based writer, writes:
Rizal dedicated Noli Me Tangere to his country, writing, “I shall endeavor to show your condition, faithfully and ruthlessly. I shall lift a corner of the veil which shrouds the disease, sacrificing to truth everything, even self-love…”
Today, more than 100 years after Filipino Independence, school children still read Noli Me Tangere. Rizal is hailed as a national hero.
I believe in fiction. It reveals truth in a way that non-fiction cannot. It connects people, creating a sense of community and purpose. And, like journalism, it speaks truth to power. But because fiction captures emotional truth—and emotions tend to drive our lives and the world we live in more than the facts and logic ever do—it is even more potent than journalism.
Let me put it this way: have you ever heard of a newspaper article sparking a revolution?
Because it’s so humid and hot this summer, here I am again longing to go up to the cool misty mountains of Baguio. Shot in 1910, the photograph above shows Kennon Road (formerly Benguet Road) with De Dion-Bouton classic cars. Believe it or not, these cars used to climb up the steep and snake-like road of Kennon.
The road itself, now one of the three access roads to the city, was built largely by immigrant Japanese nationals followed by the Fil-Chinese, Americans and Filipinos beginning in 1903. Col. Lyman Kennon lead the road-construction project (yep, he’s an American colonel, in the backdrop of the Philippine-American War) with around 1,500 Japanese workers, most of whom, stayed on in Baguio after the road was completed. Many of these Japanese influenced Igorot farming, namely organic farming which some farmers in La Trinidad still practice today. When the Japanese Occupation ended in 1945, many Japanese in Baguio, even the long-time residents, were suspected of treason and were forcefully deported to their country.
I had an oral history interview with an old Filipina lady in Baguio who married a Japanese. When her husband was deported after the war, it was so sudden that she never had the time to say goodbye. They never saw each other again.
To remember those who have fallen.
From the video: “This tells the “true story” behind the “forgotten war” of Bataan and Corregidor — savage battles that violently hurled falsely reassured Filipinos and an ill-prepared Philippines into the Second World War in the Pacific. Produced by the Department of National Defense of the Philippines and the Philippines Veterans Affairs Office this series of videos documents the outstanding courage, heroism and nobility of Filipinos regardless the inevitable fall of the country to the unrelenting Imperial Japanese military juggernaut. An outcome inevitably irreversible despite the fierce resistance of the mostly Filipino and American defenders as the United States government relegated succor to the loyal but unwarily naive Philippine Commonwealth as secondary to America’s commitment to her European allies.
This historical account belies many of the myths that have long distorted the realities of Philippine American relations and a must for the serious student of history, geopolitics and military matters. On a lighter yet equally revealing note it also gives a glimpse of pre-war Manila and Philippine society.”
As a historian, I still remember vividly the writing I saw on Mount Samat, where the Dambana ng Kagitingan, the monument for the fallen Filipino soldiers who died defending the barricade, was:
“Let all who see take pride in the courage of our race.”
On the last days approaching April 9, 1942, it is said that for the first time in history, Filipino soldiers from all over the archipelago came to Bataan to defend the liberty of the Philippines. If not for them, Corregidor Island would not have lasted a month more (6 months all in all) as the last hold out of Filipinos and Americans against the Imperial Japanese, who by then had conquered almost the entire Southeast Asian region. When Bataan fell on April 9th, the Japanese soldiers began the grueling punishment for the 70,000 survivors of Bataan which would be infamously called the Bataan Death March.
Rizal Monument in Switzerland, before its transfer to Manila. 1910
Richard Kissling, the Swiss sculptor, won the 2nd prize in the Philippine international competition for creating a design of Jose Rizal’s monument that would also house the hero’s remains. This move was approved by the United States commission in 1901, perhaps trying to get the Filipinos’ sympathy amidst the backdrop of the Philippine-American War. The competition was held from 1905-1907. Paciano Rizal as well as other prominent people were part of the competition committee. There was quite a controversy surrounding the judging of the design, since the design of the first prize winner (Carlos Nicoli of Italy) was never built. In my opinion though, a simpler design such as Kissling’s is much preferable than the overdone Nicoli design. It’s ironic how Rizal insisted that there should not be any monument of him. He specifically wrote that a simple cross would do.
Source: correosfilipinas
The person who expects to understand history must submerge himself in it, must get rid of patriotism, as well as bitterness. And especially in studying a historic life that consists in insecurity must the historian rid himself of all insecurity. He must accept the totality of the data in all their fullness, the noble with the paltry, thinking of how the two interlock.
“And now I come to the great thing that troubleth my conscience more than any other thing that ever I said or did in my life: and that is, the setting abroad of writings contrary to the truth. Which here now I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart, and writ for fear of death, and to save my life, if it might be: and that is, all such bills, which I have written or signed with mine own hand, since my degradation; wherein I have written many things untrue. And forasmuch as my hand offended in writing contrary to my heart, therefore my hand shall first be punished. For if I may come to the fire, it shall be first burned.”
Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, from his final speech before being burned at the stake on March 21, 1556 for his convictions. Because he was the only one left among the leaders of the movement to reform the church in England, he gave in to pressure and recanted all his writings. But Cranmer’s conscience greatly bothered him. Finally he denounced his recantation to the surprise of many. He declared that since his right hand wrote the recantation, it was to be burned first at the stake.
Just a snippet from World History.
(Illustration above from the original The Acts and Monuments written by John Foxe, popularly known as Foxe’s Book of Martyrs)
