The 505th anniversary of the Battle of Mactan is just around the bend and I want to share some stories surrounding statues of Lapulapu.
An old representation of Lapulapu stands in front of the Lapu-lapu City Central School where he is grouped together with statues of Jose Rizal and a lady symbolizing the Motherland. This was built in 1965 after people went gaga over Gemma Cruz’s win as Miss International. At the behest of Lapu-lapu City First Lady Augusta Dimataga, the City Council even declared Cruz an adopted daughter.
Dignified-looking as it is, however, the Lapulapu statue only appears like a complementary prop, along with that of Rizal, to the Motherland image which was allegedly fashioned after Dimataga. Observers decried what seemed like a desecration of a hero whom the city had been named after. Dimataga of course denied the allegation.
Another first lady, this time a national one, figured in the more prominent statue of Lapulapu at the Liberty Shrine in Mactan. After the first reenactment of the 1521 Battle of Mactan in 1979, she visited Cebu and inspected a statue of the hero in Mactan.
Unimpressed, she ordered the statue demolished and replaced with a new one. Fearing that his work might end up the same way as its predecessor, the sculptor who was tasked to do the job made his Lapulapu statue bear a resemblance to George Hamilton, the Hollywood star who was a close social acquaintance of the first lady. The statue has been left untouched after almost 50 years now.
A likeness of Lapulapu that became controversial is on the right side of the Cebu Provincial Capitol, built during the tenure of Gov. Eduardo Gullas. After the 1986 People Power Revolution, then Officer-In-Charge Provincial Board Member Ribomapil Holganza, Jr. moved for the renovation of the statue as it was allegedly designed to look like the former governor.
However, Holganza’s measure met considerable opposition, with critics describing it as cosmetic legislation. At the time, Cebuanos thought that public funds were better spent on more pressing problems than in renovating a symbolic representation of Lapulapu whom history never really had a definitive image of.
The image issue also hounds the Sentinel of Freedom monument to Lapulapu at the Rizal Park in Manila. A project of then Tourism Secretary Richard Gordon, I was privileged to have been invited to attend its inauguration in 2004. When the statue was unveiled, attendees were amused to see a Korean-looking Lapu-lapu.
Designed by sculptor Juan Sajid Imao, the statue’s appearance didn’t surprise us, of course, since it was donated by the Korean Freedom League in recognition of Filipinos who fought for South Korea in the 1950-1953 Korean War.
But the most controversial Lapulapu statue is the one outside the Birhen sa Regla National Shrine in Lapu-lapu City. Inaugurated in 1933, it had a Romanesque design that aimed a bow and arrow right straight towards the old town hall, leading superstitious townsfolk into blaming it for the death of three successive municipal mayors: Rito dela Serna, Gregorio dela Serna and Simeon Amodia.
To break the “curse,” the succeeding mayor, Mariano Dimataga, ordered the renovation of the statue, making it hold a kampilan and a shield instead of the original bow and arrow pointed towards the town hall. Dimataga subsequently became the longest-serving mayor of the town that became a city in 1961. He stepped down and refused to run for reelection in 1968.
Stories like these provide snapshots of time, acting as records of social, cultural and political commentaries that keep our identity and history alive.
