Philippine struggle for freedom is like Traslacion
WE will have to continue our series on portraits at a later date.
Quiapo is always described as the microcosm of Philippine society. There, you have the melding of the traditional culture and modern urban life, the sacred and the profane, Christianity and Islam, faith and commerce, history and modernity all rolled together in one place. But if there is one event in Quiapo that brings all of this to the fore, it is the January 9 procession of the Nuestro Padre Jesus Nazareno, or what in recent years we have come to refer to as the Traslacion.
Traslacion, to transfer. The procession commemorates the various transfers the Black Nazarene image and devotion underwent as it was transmitted from Mexico to Bagumbayan to Intramuros and finally to Quiapo. But the passionate display of devotion also represents a ritual process that takes us away from the physical world and transfers us to a transcendental world, where we come together and the divides are gone: no rich and poor, no male or female, everyone barefoot in respect of God and to protect his fellow man, coming together to touch the presence of the Divine, if only for a day. Despite the struggles and the hurdles to move the “andas” forward, and despite the chaotic appearance around it, the people actually exhibit bayanihan as some devotees called “pingga” surround the andas and let their shoulders be stepped on to help devotees up, while people called “tukod” position themselves on the side of the road to prevent people from falling from bridges and underpasses. Then, a mass of people at the back of the andas will run to slam their bodies against it to move it forward. We call this “salya.” People give free food and water to devotees and visitors and call it “pacaridad.” Even petty criminals have a code of honor in Quiapo, not on the day of the Señor; offenders are dealt with accordingly. At the tail end of the procession, the Quiapo Green Brigade and other volunteers sweep the trash.
Outsiders see chaos; devotees see bayanihan of fellow travelers
in a journey toward “kaginhawahan” and “kagalingan.”
And why do we identify with Jesus? Because we see him having the same color as us, a God who once was man and was with us, “nakipagkapwa-tao sa atin,” and so to show “pakikipagkapwa-tao sa iba.”
In my recently finished PhD dissertation, “Nasaan ang Hari: Etnograpiya ng Pagsalya ng Bayan sa Traslacion ng Poong Hesus Nazareno ng Quiapo,” I stated that there is Quiapo as a geographical district of Manila, and also “Kiyapo” as an anthropological space. It means that if we see the Philippines and its myriad experiences reflected in Quiapo, we can also see traces of the anthropological “Kiyapo” transcending the geographic space to encompass the Filipinos’ culture and history within the archipelago and even in the diaspora.
The King is in Quiapo, but He is also in Kiyapo. As the devotion and image of the Black Nazarene becomes widespread, the Traslacion is replicated, and so is the Nazareno culture.
We also see that our struggle for freedom mirrors the Traslacion. In our history discussions, we tend to highlight that it is chaotic, full of division, with a lot of weird characters. But if we look closer, we can actually see how much bayanihan took place, which are all steps to victory.
Like the Traslacion, revolts are guided by spirituality and holy personalities. It is the talisman that gives the people courage, from the babaylan revolts to Hermano Puli to the priests Gomes, Burgos and Zamora, whose 152nd year of martyrdom we recently commemorated. Historian Reynaldo Ileto even said that that story of the passion of Jesus Christ and his resurrection, as it is sung in the Pasyon every Lenten season, is what emboldened the Katipunan and other groups to just believe that the dawn of freedom would shine upon the land.
And in February 1986, with a call from a martyr’s brother (Butz Aquino) and a cardinal (Jaime Sin), Filipinos went to the streets in various cities to protest, a peaceful culmination of 14 years of bloody struggle. At EDSA, the people knelt and prayed to block Marcos loyalist tanks, and to protect the mutineers, Defense Minister Juan Ponce Enrile and General Fidel Ramos, prayed the rosary and, with their Bibles, brought along their images of the Virgin Mary, the Holy Child and Jesus Christ. They gave pacaridad and flowers to their “kapwa” Filipino from the other camp. And finally, their unity pushed the dictator, “salya,” out of Malacañang.
A victory affirmed by 77 percent of the electorate by ratifying the fundamental law that learned from history against centralization, corruption and human rights violations to bring back “pakikipagkapwatao” and love: the 1987 Constitution.
As in the Traslacion as well as in EDSA, the road to “kaginhawahan” and “kagalingan” may be difficult and bumpy, but what we do not appreciate is the everyday bayanihan of the ordinary people that makes this nation great. Buhay ang EDSA sa araw-araw. Viva!