The Philippines – in search of itself
The great Chinese Philosopher, Master Lao-tzu, who founded Taoism, once said that “knowing others is wisdom; knowing thyself is enlightenment.”
Another Chinese sage, this time a tactician and the man whose 13 essays on war inspired the guerilla strategy of Red China’s late Mao Zedong – Sun Tzu, who lived three centuries before Christ, expressed the same idea in his “War of the Flea” treaties: “Know thyself, know thy enemies, a hundred battles, a hundred victories.”
This is precisely where the modern day Filipino’s dilemma lies. He is still struggling to “know himself,” and until he manages to exorcise his confusion, come to terms with his truly split-personality, resolve his debilitating bouts with cynicism, pessimism and self-doubt, he cannot arrest the downward trajectory of his everyday existence, nor begin to exploit the inner strengths and latent but impressive talents which, too, are part and parcel of his heritage.
These are big words, admittedly. And in this phenomenon, as well, we can identify one of the Filipino’s failings. He is so in love with “big words” that, too often, he tends to mistake florid rhetoric and eloquent speech for action. Perhaps the Filipino’s curse is not that he is often speechless and inarticulate, unable to express his needs and desire, but that too frequently ends up confusing words for achievement.
It is no secret that the Philippines today is mired in political instability, economic challenges and social disappointment. The only thing we Filipinos have going for us is our growing sense of “nationalism,” most notably among our young. On the other hand, nationalism is a two-edged sword. It can point the way to the future in its most generous form. It can be crippling and inward-looking in its most fanatical and chauvinistic extreme and a convenient tool by which charlatans, jingoists, political manipulators and monopolists can seduce the public. Too often, waving the bright banners of “nationalism” and wrapping their blackest sins in the shining fold of the flag, we see homegrown exploiters and knaves trying to march our nation into darkness.
Part of our problem, as Filipinos, is our ambivalence towards our multi-cultural psyche. We are children of the East and West – Roman Catholics, for one, swimming uncertainly in the Muslim sea which runs from our own Southern Philippines (where millions of our own Moros live) through neighboring Indonesia, Brunei Darussalam and Malaysia. While proud of our race and our “native” culture, meaning pre-Hispanic, pre-Christian and certainly pre-American, we find ourselves more at home with things “Western.” We love Hollywood and pop. Our national costume, in truth, is not the baro’t saya, the Filipina terno, nor the barong Tagalog, but, from the mean streets of Metro Manila to the most far-flung barrios in the boondocks (an American expression that stemmed from the Tagalog word for mountains, bundok) we find most Filipinos, male and female, sporting that universal uniform: T-shirt and blue jeans. We refer to the latter, of course, more often than not as maong and not denims, but the brand-labels are as American as mom and apple pie.
We love to munch American junk food from Big Mac to Wendy’s (although we have developed our local “Jollibee” hamburger they now have to contend with), breakfast in Dunkin’ and Mister Donut, shake with Shakey’s Pizza and devour more calories in Pizza Hut. Our discos and Metro radio stations dish out rap, rock, swing and jive along with the lambadas and the cha-cha-cha. Our major newspapers and almost all provincial dailies, national weeklies and fortnightlies are in English, albeit sometimes fractured or “bamboo” English.
And yet, our self-anointed “nationalists” in the Senate took upon themselves more than a decade ago to kick the six remaining United States military bases out by their vote to reject an RP – US Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation and Security. But a few years after, decided to renew the ties again with the Visiting Forces Agreement (or the VFA). Today, our President is still trying to figure out whether he will kick them out again or make them stay. So you see, we are like ‘lovers.’ We have a love and hate relationship with America. Clearly, every time they leave the country we find ourselves saddled with a loss of billions of dollars in annual income, aid, and credits. Yes we have, in typical Spanish amor propio, regained our dignity and sovereignty at a so-called heavy cost. Can we manage this by ourselves? Or will we turn to China or Japan to cover up for the loss? Is this the time to fight for ‘true’ independence?
The confusion over whether we remain friends with the West, or not, specifically in a period of an economic crunch, points to the continuing clash between pragmatism, globalization and the militant, aggressive, oftentimes bellicose “nationalism” which provokes both fervor and intransigence.
Why are we this way? That, to invoke Hamlet, is the question.
To understand the Filipino’s dilemma, it is essential to view both our archipelago of 7,100 islands between the Pacific and the South China Sea – and our history. The Philippines lies in the heart of Southeast Asia. The Spaniards who sought a way-station between the China trade and the Spice Islands of the East Indies, blundered on the Philippines and, thereby gave this sprawling scatter of islands its name. The Americans annexed the Philippines for a similar lesson, with the emphasis on the nearby treasure-box of China which had awakened both their greed and their proselytizing zeal for the purposes of both colonizers. The Philippines occupies an ideal spot – a scant 1,000 kilometers from the Asian mainland, an archipelago in itself stretching 1,854 kilometers from north to south and 1,965 from west to east.
In time, our islands were divided in fact and in name into three major groupings: Luzon (the largest and most politically significant, since the nation’s capital is Manila), the Visayan island, and the “last frontier” of Mindanao.
No “tiny” country, as Filipino leaders persist in maintaining in mock-humility. We have a population of one hundred million people, composed of 111 linguistic, cultural and racial groups. The national language adopted by law is “Filipino,” which is actually Tagalog, one of the major dialects and the language, indeed, of Metro Manila.
The 87 major dialects reflect the racial homogeneity which links Filipinos with the principal tribes of Indonesia and bumiputras, the Malays, of Malaysia. For in centuries past, the Philippines was populated mainly by Malays, proto-Malays and Indonesians who came by boat, either by swift vinta or the original mother-ships, the barangays. There are, of course, pockets of aboriginal bloodline, which include the Negritos (Aetas and Balugas), the Lumads, the Mangyans, and so forth.
As we trace our roots and note that graft and corruption continues to be a headache, we must also accept that it is our endemic woes and shortcomings as Filipinos that is part of the problem. Let us not always blame the Spaniards and the Americans for our country’s tragedy. Both colonizing powers, the loud protestations and breast-beating left-wing, knee-jerk anti-American not withstanding departed long ago from our shores and after more than half a century of independence, we have nobody but ourselves to blame.
Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so a man is rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life – Joseph Conrad