I ENCOUNTERED the quote "The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting" from The Book of Laughter and Forgetting of Milan Kundera many years ago while looking for accommodations in Puerto Galera, Oriental Mindoro.
Kundera’s book was one of a very dog-eared few displayed in the lobby of one of those inns that tried to attract an international clientele. I ended up not staying in the place but I did sneak back into that lobby to re-read the paragraph and commit the line to memory.
Having been told far too often that Filipinos have short-term memories and easily forget injustices inflicted on them, one interpretation I had of Kundera’s line was as a reminder that memories are not just milestones of the past but are relevant to the struggles of the day.
Therefore, remembrance and memorialization are themselves political tasks: to resist both “enforced” and “convenient” forgetting and to ensure that our past strivings and the lessons they yielded continue to guide whatever it is we are trying to accomplish as a people in the present.
The annual commemoration of the declaration of Martial Law every September 21 is a potent time for promoting remembrance and memorialization of the excesses of dictatorial and imperialist-sponsored rule, and the many faces and forms of heroism that rose against it. The flurry of activities around this time ranges from the forum-symposium type of activities, to the posting of memes and commentaries on social network sites, and to street mobilizations.
And each year in the recent past, my fears have been expanding that forgetting seems to be gaining ground over memory as seemingly more and more people are becoming enamored with the idea of an eventual Marcos return to Malacañang courtesy of Senator Bongbong Marcos.
This year something else still along the lines of remembrance and memorialization caught my attention. Mindanawon scholars like Professors Rudy “Ompong” Rodil, Rufa Cagoco-Guiam, Moctar Matuan and Macrina Morados had remarked about how the heroic acts of the Bangsamoro and indigenous peoples of Mindanao have become lost to public view; instead oppressors such as colonizers and their acts ended up celebrated.
They cited for instance Plaza Pershing in Zamboanga City that was named in honor of American General John “Black Jack” Pershing who led crushing military campaigns against Tausugs and Maranaos.
Mayor Zainal Abidin, a Magindanaon and the first mayor appointed to govern what was previously known as Dadiangas, is unacknowledged in most narrations of what is now referred to as General Santos City. Instead, most accounts honor General Paulino Santos, the man given the responsibility by Commonwealth President Manuel L. Quezon to “pacify” the “wild natives” of South Cotabato, particularly the Maguindanaon and indigenous Blaan.
Davao City has its own examples. Although already renamed, many residents of the city still know streets named after colonizers: Claveria (now C.M. Recto) in honor of the Spanish Governor General of the Philippines Narciso Claveria; Oyanguren (now Magsaysay Ave.) for Don Jose Oyanguren y Cruz who attacked Davao in 1848; and of course Magallanes (now Pichon), to name a few. While the name of Datu Bago, who led the resistance against the Spanish colonizers, is relegated to a small side street in Bangkerohan leading to the old slaughter area.
To be fair, the Davao City tourism website http://www.davaotourism.com tries to be more inclusive by featuring historical sites that celebrate the indigenous peoples and the Bangsamoro. Their list of attractions includes the gigantic steel statue of a Bagobo in Epol, Marilog, and the Monument of Peace and Unity in San Pedro.
But admittedly from a quantitative point of view, there seem to be more sites on that webpage associated with the Japanese in Davao (such as the Otha Kyosahuru Memorial Shrine, the Japanese Peace Memorial Shrine, the Mintal Historical Marker, the Furukawa Plantation, the Japanese Tunnel, and old Japanese houses in Mintal, Tugbok and Toril) than there are about the indigenous peoples and the Bangsamoro combined.
The website of the National Historical Commission of the Philippines (NHCP) does not fare any better in terms of memorializing the valor of the Bangsamoro and indigenous peoples. The NHCP declared 203 sites and structures nationwide as historic in their 2012 list, but only four were from the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM). Of the four in the list, one was actually from Iligan, Lanao del Norte--the Macapagal-Macaraeg Heritage House.
Another list from the NHCP website indicated Camp Brigadier General Salipada K. Pendatun in Parang, and Sheik Makdum Mosque in Tubig Indangan, Simunul as part of the January 2012 List of Historic Sites and Structures Installed with Historical Markers—only two out of 459.
Of 141 institutions/associations/organizations installed with historical markers, there are only two from Mindanao. Both are from Catholic organizations: the Oblates of Notre Dame in Datu Odin, Sinsuat, and the Notre Dame Archdiocesan Seminary in Cotabato City. All the rest are located in Luzon and the Visayas.
More objectionable is the observation that in the three lists cited, there were no declared historical sites that can be associated with the Lumads, the indigenous peoples of Mindanao.
It seems like the message is that indigenous peoples and Bangsamoro can be featured in festivals and tourism advertisements celebrating the diversity of the country, but are not acclaimed enough to be well-represented in the sites considered as historic and worthy of recognition, remembrance and memorialization.
Everyday we struggle with not forgetting, whether it be a mobile number, a name or face, an errand, or a work detail; so it can be argued that it’s a routine enough effort. At specific moments in our lives it is not uncommon to pledge to remember, as when we part with a loved one, or bid farewell to the departed.
But concerning the victims of repression under Martial Law, and the indigenous peoples and the Bangsamoro, it becomes a political task. To not forget, and instead to remember and recognize is a responsibility imbued with, and associated with power.
And we do it by consistently being on guard against the return of the concentration of power under authoritarian and militarist rule, and by naming and shaming the acts that make invisible, further exclude and disempower the peoples who have been systematically marginalized in history.
Not as easy as sneaking back into a lobby to re-read a paragraph and commit a line to memory, but we could always begin from there.
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