Colonizing the Arts: The Case of Magellan, the Queen and the Sto. Niño
“Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.”—chinua Achebe, Nigerian Novelist
Three paintings dubbed Legacy winners of the Quincentennial Art Competition under the National historical Commission of the Philippines are once more polarizing Filipinos online.
Specific is the main instruction: the painting should be representational. Abstract and found-object installations, organically subversive in their denial of traditional definitions of what constitutes a painting, are out of the picture.
There are four themes in the competition, which the participating artists have to articulate in their entry. From the web page of the National Historical Commission of the Philippines, we see indicated the four themes said to represent four quincentennial milestones that should guide participating artists. To quote, here are the themes: Sovereignty. This celebrates the 500th anniversary of the Victory at Mactan. To be depicted here is the gallantry of Lapu-lapu and his warriors in repelling the forces of Magellan in the Battle of Mactan; Magnanimity. This commemorates the compassion of our ancestors to the first circumnavigators of the world (i.e., Magellan-elcano expedition) who came to Homonhon, Guiuan, in Eastern Samar after traversing the deadly Pacific for almost three months: starving, undernourished, sick; Unity. This underscores the contributions of various nationalities in circumnavigating the world for the first time. The contribution of our ancestors is depicted through the blood compact between Rajah of Mazaua and Magellan; and, Legacy. This embodies the legacy of the first circumnavigation of the world to our country: the introduction of Christianity. To be depicted here is the presentation of the image of the Santo Niño to Queen Juana of Cebu in April 1521.
How did the artists respond to these themes? Were they bothered at all by the one-sided focus of the themes, one that eschews a more critical appraisal of histories?
To see the first circumnavigation of the world in terms of its legacy in the form of a new religion is to be appraised of the benign aspect of colonization. This means regarding conquest and its concomitant act of being vanquished as beneficent. Nowhere in the theme is there a fissure where the artists can question the evil of a foreign force coming to a land with the aim of conquering it and making out of its people slaves. Or, maybe we could even rethink now our memories and embrace the fiction of good governance from Magellan and his cohorts. The density of the situation presented (and artistically encouraged by a government institution) allows us to finally realize that there is indeed an official view of imperialism and colonization in this land: it was good and it remains to be good after 500 years.
If we stick thus to contest rules— and don’t we just love being neutral and objective—there is no place for our rage at what the three canvases depict. All three winners show Magellan bearing the tiny image of Santo Niño or Child Jesus, the conqueror’s hand extended to give the icon to Queen Juana. By the time of the gift, the primary wife of Rajah Humabon, had already changed her name from Hara Humamay to Juana (or had accepted the advice that she be named so and be called a “Queen.”) How she became a Queen is a stretch that even fiction writers would find difficult to justify in their works. With colonial history being close to fiction from the side of the defeated, this is not the crisis that arises from the Legacy winners.
What the online debates are bristling about are numerous. One is the general notion of a submissive woman vis-a-vis the superior position of Magellan. Weren’t there proofs indicating the power of women before the Spanish arrival? To what degree is it accurate that women accepting gifts or honoring a man should be seated? Ethnographies about the Malay-polynesian communities narrate how it was impolite for women to remain seated when talking with a man. Was it the same with the areas in what is now southern Philippines? Was it even polite for a woman to be seated when honored?
An interesting aspect of the confrontations online with regard to these paintings was how the title of each piece had influenced the viewer’s perception and/or appreciation of the re-imagining of that 16th century event. Two minor prizes are named “Ang Mahinungdanong Pag-abot sa Balaang Bata” literally, “The Important Arrival of the Blessed Child”) and “The Acceptance of Faith,” respectively. The Grand Prize winner bears the title “The Presentation of the Idol.” Cebuanos, some claim, are insulted by the label. Catholics, the other voices say, see the title as an affront to their religion. Each hour, the thread of discussion grows, becoming more animated and oftentimes hostile.
One can be lost in the bellicose and seemingly directionless fury of some thoughts and yet one can also read, of all things, hope in what is taking place after five centuries. And that is the fact that our histories—written, imagined and visually propounded—do not provide us solace or home. That one cannot just ignore a grand name a painter affixes to his illustration of defeat and conversion. Somewhere in that tag or design is an inquiry, a quest and query, an inquisition. Somewhere in these paintings are canvases with representations as well as conjectures about memories that can never be collective, or whose meanings will remain segmented according to wealth, wisdom, and the lack of one or both.
As for the word “idol,” the winning artist has hit the jackpot, accidentally, with a branding which mocks Magellan’s manipulation of the sacred child. And, as we often say online: Winner!