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 | Dusk:
Dusk is a book about many things. Mainly, Dusk is about walking fine lines,
choices, and a country founded on disunity. Dusk is foisted as the opening
novel of the Rosales Saga. The saga is a celebration of a sense of resilience
against all kinds of adversity - mostly external. F. Sionil Jose starts as well
as ends the saga with Eustaquio. The story begins with Eustaquio's meeting with
Dalin - the enigmatic visitor. From outside research I am led to believe that
the Rosales Saga is a story of 4 generations of a Filipino family - an Ilocano
family. The lives of these "little people" become intertwined with the
pantheon of heroes - in this book Eustaquio meets Apolinario Mabini and Gregorio
H. Del Pilar. That may not mean much to non-Filipinos, however, to a farmer from
Po-on that would mean a great leap in status. Although Emilio Aguinaldo is often
mentioned he is never really seen or heard from. Eustaquio and his progeny
are entangled in the tumultuous history of the Philippines. The Philippines is
a country that has seen no respite from the horrors of colonial incursion. With
the initial salvo by Ba-ac (Eustaquio's father) the brood of tenant farmers is
compelled to leave the village of Cabugaw. Seeking refuge from the "guardia
civil" a local gendarmerie organized under the auspices of the Spanish colonial
with a contingent of local soldiers. Eustaquio and his ilk find solaces in a small
town called Rosales - under the protection of a landowner called Jacinto. Jacinto
reminds Eustaquio of a kindly priest who served as his Svengali - a Padre Jose.
However, Eustaquio never really gets to reconcile the two. The group settles and
works hard - somewhat romantizing the legendary Ilocano work ethic. The group
has a chance at a new start. Inevitably, they are once again dragged in to the
ravages of war. Contrary to what the publisher and other critics have suggested
- Dusk is no place near Gabriel Garcia Maarquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude."
It could be argued that the Saga may be more akin to Victor Hugo's Les Miserables
- where the main characters perform an crriminal act but it is assumed with just
intent and a hand forced. Jose is wonderful about the pastoral depictions of an
innocent group of people just trying to get away from all the hustle and chaos
of the colonial ear. As much as I too was attracted to the pastoral, well wishful
thinking does not really breed results. I was drawn in by the personal nature
of the descriptions - we even become intimately acquainted with Kimat - Eustaquio's
horse (actually Jacinto's horse). Jose treats the subject with as much deft and
sensitivity that a person with regional loyalties has. Despite the call for
a unified Philippines, the Tagalog hegemony is questioned (and this is a good
thing). However, the constant references to the differences between the regions
- about Ilocano discipline juxtaposed agaainst "self-indulgent and lazy"
(265) folks from Pangasinan. Well, yes, Jose becomes self reflective that this
kind of generalizations are detrimental: "It is not right-attributing inborn
faults and virtues to people" (265) - the problem is the stigma sticks. Best
not to valorize nor vilify any group in particular, I argue. Although it is a
problem with us Filipinos - we do this sort of petty stuff - we will never be
able to "trust our own people, their judgment, if we are to build a nation."
(289). Even Jose and I are on the same page on this one - by waxing sentimental
(sometimes overly) about alleged Ilocano discipline - he effectively "outs"
the rest. Mind you, I don't have the final say on this - you the reader will have
to make up your own mind. No matter what, I highly recommend this read to anyone
who wishes to get a grip on the Filipino angst. |
 | Under the Crescent Moon: Rebellion in Mindanao
by Marites Dañguilan Vitug: Under the Crescent Moon: Rebellion in Mindanao
is an essential book if one really wants to understand the origins of the issue
in Southern Philippines. Marites Danguilan Vitug & Glenda M. Gloria, as a
team, bring a sense of perspective that is rare when discussing Mindanao. Vitug
and Gloria place the genesis of the situation in Mindanao squarely with the Jabidah
Massacre as the spark. This does not imply that (1) It all began with the Jabidah
Massacre or (2) That there were other factors leading up or contributing to the
Massacre. Kudos all around - although there is something for the really interested,
this book is really written for a Filipino audience. Under the Crescent Moon is
an exhaustively researched, balanced, and professionally scribed reportage about
what went on and what is going on in Southern Philippines. According to the duo
of Vitug and Gloria, the seeds of the "rebellion" stem from the savage
March 18, 1968 Jabidah Massacre. This stunning event - because it was so rash
and spontaneous (not to mention suspicious) forced the Moro National Liberation
Front (MNLF) to come out of the closet - so to speak. Subsequently, the breakaway
Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) as well as the infamous Abu Sayyaf was formed.
Tagged as a renegade "Lost Command" this group is now in the middle
of a storm of controversy. In 1990 Khaddafy Janjalani, decided to take it upon
himself to directly attack the leadership of Nuur Misuari. Janjalani decided to
take matters into his own hands and break away from the mainstream MNLF and Nuur
Misuari. Vitug and Gloria are wonderful at examining the angst experienced by
Misuari in his quest for a strategy - either to go with the PLO model of complete
separation or to compromise on an autonomous region. The MNLF, according to Vitug
and Gloria found their voice (and then lost it) while pegging their hopes on the
Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC), a union of Muslim nations to which
the Bangsamoro Nation looked for support. In Under the Crescent Moon, Vitug and
Gloria also explore the rise of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF). According
to Vitug and Gloria, the MILF group growth can be linked to its involvement with
the Mujahadeen of Afghanistan. One of the more stellar moments of this exploration
is the articulation of and reportage of the peace process (began and completed)
by former President Fidel Ramos. What I found most informative was the counter
positions and various reactions to the peace process. The book explores the benefits
of peace to the Bangsamoro nation and the various combatants but the writers are
keen to point out the various parties that stood to lose if the peace process
went through - most of all the Armed Forces of the Philippines. Vitug and Gloria
did not seem to be on one side of the other on the issue. Both focused instead
less on the military side of things but went along with the Ramos plan. Ramos
decided to try to alleviate poverty, to build infrastructure thus taking away
a large motivator to take up arms. Under the Crescent Moon is a timely book
what with all the goings on in Mindanao: the rise of the Abu Sayyaf, the demise
of Nuur Misuari, the tension between the MNLF and MILF and the relations to Manila.
Readers of the news, on a daily basis, read current events and are not prepared
thus cannot understand how things came to be. Under the Crescent Moon is a book
that should be read by a cross section of readers. The book presents more questions
than it does answers - and that is a good thing. It presents how understanding
agenda/motivation is crucial to getting a clear picture - getting a clear picture
of any situation being a pre-requisite to finding a lasting solution. |
 | Noli Me Tangere (Shaps Library of Translations)
by Jose P. Rizal, et al: Noli Me Tangere has rightfully gained a place of
national importance since it was completed in its original form - in Spanish -
in 1887. Soledad Lacson-Locsin renews its spirit in this easy to read English
language translation - complete with helpful footnotes and a warmth that only
one close to the material can appreicate. "Noli" as it is affectionately
called, forms part of the canon text in Filipino education. Translated into Tagalog,
it brings a unique perspective to the life and times of colonial Philippines.
Translated into English, it brings it to life for the rest of the world. As
a simple introduction - without giving too much away - the story centers around
two characters - Ibarra and Elias and the trials and tribulation surrounding their
individual quests for happiness and justice. Standing between all this and the
reason for all the discord is a power structure triad of the Church - mostly the
Holy Orders; the State mechanism - the Civil Guards, the Alferez, etc.; and Culture
- Imperial Culture to be more exact. Lockked within this Discourse and the constraints
applied on them by all these forces, Ibarra and Elias - forming both sides of
Filipino existential angst and liberating spirit - are crushed beneath the wheel.
Everyone is a victim. Rizal was by no means a seer of any kind. However, what
rings true then, as it does now, is the way Filipinos create values. In a unique
perspective as an emigre, Rizal completed this novel while he was in Spain - with
all the joys and sense of perspective that was allowed. If we listen to him now
as we listened to him then, perhaps we can transcend our human-all-too-humanes
and become what we are capable of becoming. Written at about the same time
as Nietzsche was writting, the message is almost similar yet also very different.
While Noli was iconoclastic about the abuses of the church and the almost stunted
sense of becoming, Nietzsche took it one step further and formed an indictment
against the nihilism of Europe via the message of the church in general. What
I am trying to say here is that Rizal and Nietzsche see a sense of becoming stunted
by anti-humanist dogma. I salute both, who have gone to the great beyond ahead
of us and read their messages of "becoming". If you wish to peek
into the Filipino psyche - as a non -Filipino, there is no better avenue than
Rizal's Noli - specially this version. As a Filipino at home as well as a Filipino
abroad - we need to re-read Noli and heed its warning. We obviously did not learn
about ourselves the way Rizal meant to teach us - the results are self evident.
Once again, I have not read a finer translation than this one by Soledad Lacson-Locsin.
As a metaphor for the Philippines, Maria Clara could not have looked more beautiful. |
 | Eating Fire and Drinking Water by Arelene Chai:
Chai writes with the insight of a "matanda". In a semiotic analysis
that will defy explanation, "matanda", as a signifier, carries with
it tons of meanings that is both static and dynamic, which brings me to another
point. Chai writes for me, a filipino. Chai succeeds in reminding me, but moreover
places me in the situation. You can explain to an outsider that "matanda"
means elder, a person to respect, wise through the years of experience (where
she explores the subject with more detail and complexity in "The Last time
I saw Mother") as if there is some sort of equivalent in other cultures.
Maybe there is, however, to understand Chai is to BE in the discourse of the filipino.
A bit too high brow? Not really. When she speaks about anger, forgiveness, resolution
and coming to terms - we all automatically assume that it is universal and it
might be. However, Chai speaks to an experience that is unique to the filipino
with all the complexity that this gauntlet provides. Let there be no mistake -
I love her work. More for its social commentary and easy style, I highly recommend
it to all who seek to understand the filipino psyche (in particular) and themselves
(in general). She gives us (the pinoy) the complexity we deserve. Wise beyond
her years and writing with a sensitivity (ok, guys lets be really honest here....)
of a Woman's perspective it should be required reading in both Asian and Womens
Studies. A triumph for the filipino, for women and for the human spirit. |
 | Last Time I Saw Mother by Arlene Chai: No
question, we are certainly the "Other". When it comes to analysis, Chai
is measured on a scale that does not really apply to her. There were calls for
further character building and terms that needed further explanation. However,
that is where Chai is greatest - that she comes into this discourse unpretentious
- it is as if I was talking to my Lola onn a Sunday afternoon. In order to
effect the epiphany that Caridad undergoes, we have to take Chai at face value.
I believe that she succeeds with Ligaya - she may not have meant to do this but
Ligaya is the result of the forces of Dionysis contra Apollo. Nietzsche spoke
of Dionysis as "raw stuff" and Apollo as a sense of order. To live in
the realm of Apollo would be to be dead without dying - Thelma (p. 309). To live
in the chaotic realm of the passionate Dionysis is unrealistic - Emma. The two
forces need each other and they are present in Ligaya. She is the poster child
for broken dreams and it might be reasonable to say she deserves to carry around
a bit of baggage. She is living in the tension. She is beauty. I hope Chai
never stops writing and I will keep buying her books. Despite "Eating Fire
and Drinking Water", the call for her to write and write often is clear.
This is the absent voice we have been waiting for for a long time. It has arrived.
Who can argue with the likes of Amy Tan and Bryce Courtenay when they praise her
work. There is someting in this for all of us. Given enough time to mature and
refine her writing she will one day inhabit that space beside Tan and Courtenay
- in a lot of ways she already does. 5 sttars, no question! |
 | Dream Jungle by Jessica Hagedorn: When I
first encountered the work of Jessica Hagedorn, I have to admit - I found the
oeuvre suspect. I read "Dogeaters" and this was my initial reaction:
"As a Filipino abroad, you will be nostalgic but you will be disturbed by
it. The language is pure sensationalism - but it is representative of a slice
of life that we might not be proud of but seem to fall into without much examination.
That "Dogeaters" is a cold, hard look at ourselves, I give her the 5
stars. The question I have for Jessica Hagedorn is, if this is deconstruction,
where is the reconstruction? Do we remain "Dogeaters"?" Then, my
curiosity got the better of me, I read "Gangsters of Love." I found
myself easing up a little: "Perspective is another thing Hagedorn is good
at. Despite destabilizing a basically linear story she plays with perspectives
when she switches from Rocky to Elvis and plays around with what Elvis is thinking
and feeling. The whole question of the Chinese experience is not really fully
developed in this story - as if Hagedorn did not really want to go there - as
if to tease us that there is more there. Maybe the story can be picked up by something
like the movie Mano Po (Regal Films) or Arlene Chai's works. Nonetheless, the
book ["Gangsters of Love"] is as compelling as any in its genre. After
reading Dogeaters, I was convinced that Hagedorn may have missed an opportunity
by not presenting a possible solution - but perhaps the cathartic nature of her
work is a solution in itself. I highly recommend this book ["Gangsters of
Love"] not only to the Diaspora Filipino trying to form some sense of closure
but to the widest possible audience to get a sense of the Filipino immigrant experience
and to begin dialogue. This piece ["Gangsters of Love"] is new dawn
- a reconstruction from a deconstruction.." Then I picked up "Dream Jungles"
and now I find myself caught by the "cojones." In this work, we
see a more subdued but not any less forceful Hagedorn - it seems that all the
angst that filled "Dogeaters" has washed away and we are left with a
more penetrating piece - heavily researched and always problematizing. The problem
with a forum like this one - the review section - is that it allows for perspectivism
making reader response to the book less polished, more real. Since we are in the
space of perspectives... The narrative can be seen to be emanating from two
central perspectives: Zamora de Lagazpi and his counterpoint Rizalina. In a funny
sort of way, Hagedorn is trapped in a self-created "double-bind." While
she problematizes all types of categories she inadvertently reifies them. At the
hub of this tale, is Zamora de Legazpi - the son of a powerful family of the Filipino
elite. Zamora is a "mestizo," personifying what the common sense understanding
is of mixed Spanish and Filipino "blood." The mestizo is stereotyped
as having a huge appetite and a passion for conquest the not only rivals the Spanish
conquistadors but in a sense picks up from where they have left off. Oddly
enough, reality has provided Hagedorn with a convenient backdrop as she includes
the account of Pigafetta. Zamora is as guilty as Pigafetta of a malignant form
of "Orientalism" - actually it is more like "Primitivism."
Zamora "discovers" the "Taobo" - a lost tribe of natives.
Zamora makes one of the younger members Bodabil his "Wild Child." In
an effort to legitimize his bizarre project - Zamora solicits the aid of his friend
and college roommate journalist Ken Forbes. Who is she kidding? Anyone who is
the least bit familiar with the story of the Tasadays will spot Manda Elizalde,
John Nance, and the Tasadays. As I have previously written, about Robin Hemley's
exceptional book, "Invented Eden: The Elusive, Disputed History of the Tasaday."
The story of Emmanuel "Manda" Elizalde is as problematic as ever. If
there was any reason to doubt the veracity of the story at all, it would be very
involvement of Elizalde at the center and the Marcos" at the periphery -
or where they? Anyway, another way to position oneself as a reader is to see things
from Rizalina's perspective. Juxtaposed against the caricature of the elite
in Zamora, is the powerless imagery of Rizalina vis-à-vis not just Zamora but
Moody, Mayor Fritz, and Pierce. Rizalina enters the milieu a peasant girl who
comes to work for Lagazpi as a maid - the daughter of the cook actually. Zamora
finds himself smitten by the young Rizalina and pursues her immediately. I am
still in a quandary about the use of names - Rizalina and Zamora, is there something
in that? Why would Rizal or his project be played through the personification
of a young girl of 14? Oh well, stuff to keep thinking about. Rizalina's life
becomes increasingly problematic. It begins when she runs away and is just as
quickly abandoned by a never-do-well boyfriend - who apparently already had a
wife. Rizalina finds a job as a prostitute in the metropole. Rizalina is "strong,"
serving as a counterpoint to Lagazpi's inherent weakness. Rizalina is nothing
short of a survival machine. In a sense I found myself thinking that this is a
really poignant articulation of how Filipinos negotiate survival. In the end,
isn't that what we are really all about survival? Anyway, as Hagedorn's oeuvre
grows - like fine wine - she just gets better with age. Back to the source...
Charlie Chan anyone? |
 | In
the Presence of My Enemies: It was really difficult reading this very personal
and moving rendition of the events surrounding the May 27-28 abduction at Dos
Palmas Resort in Palawan, Philippines. At the center of the whole incident is
the involvement of Martin and Gracia Burnham - two missionaries and Guillermo
Sobrero - an American contractor. Since the book was penned by and is within the
perspective OF Gracia, the events surrounding the beheading of Sobrero seem to
pass fleetingly. So much has been written about this book and it is really difficult
to add anything new. However, what struck me - and this is not in any way to diminish
the tragedy of the beheading of Sobrero, the subsequent deaths of Martin Burnham
and Ediborah Yap - but I really found Gracia's insistence on the dichotomies of
good/bad really problematic. In a scenario where so much money is changing
hands, it would appear from her own observations that the involvement of the Philippine
army - or at least a faction within the army was involved in the whole affair.
To borrow from Gracia herself: "I forgot to mention that when the guys
went out for budget, they'd pick up ammunition as well. You may wonder how such
a group as the Abu Sayyaf always seemed well supplied with weaponry. Were their
al-Qaeda friends sending them supply boats in the middle of the night? No,
no - nothing so exotic as that. The Abu Sayyaf told us their source was none other
than the Philippine army itself. More than once I heard Solaiman on the sat-phone
calling Zamboanga, talking to a lady named Ma'am Blanco. He would give all his
specifications for guns, bullets, you name it. "Who are you ordering
from?" we asked him one day. "Oh, the army," he replied. "We
pay a lot more than it should cost, of course. So somebody's making a lot of money.
But at least we get what we need." I was amazed. The fact that such firepower
could quite possibly wind up killing one's fellow soldiers seemed not to matter
at all (150)." I was grateful for her observations relating to the inherent
contradiction surrounding this faction of Islam (since we cannot paint the entire
army as on the take we cannot also paint the entire body of Islam as inherently
violent). However, Gracia shares this insight with us: "With this way of
thinking, clearly the odds of reaching paradise were slim to none. The Abu Sayyaf
didn't mince words when speaking of those who had "fallen short," those
who didn't see eye to eye with the Abu Sayyaf and were therefore "not really
true Muslims." This included even such notables as Muammar Qadhafi of Libya
and the Saudi royal family. In fact, Saudi Arabia was especially scorned for being
soft on Muslim principles, as evidenced by allowing the infidel troops of the
United States and other Western nations to use Saudi military bases (153)." Now,
with so much virulence leveled at both Qadhafi and the Saudi royal family, you
would think the last folks the Abu Sayyaf would turn to would be Qadhafi himself.
Well, the exact opposite is true (as is evidence by the quote below). This should
bring to presence to any reader that this whole scheme is more about making money
for the go-betweens in the Philippine government, Armed forces factions that are
selling and perpetuating violence in southern Mindanao to justify their existence,
and numerous local terrorist groups - all out to make money. Gracia shares this
with us: "We want you to make an audiotape for the Muammar Qadhafi Foundation."
This was the same organization that had put up (or at least passed along) $25
million the year before for the Sipadan hostages. This was a handy way for them
to appear magnanimous and caring in the eyes of the world while simultaneously
financing their Muslim brethren's jihad (158)." There is more. It seems,
from these insights that stories were sold to U.S. media on a fairly regular basis.
This calls to question the responsibility and involvement of the U.S. (and perhaps
local media) concerning the sensationalism of this whole business of terrorism.
Should the media not question their motives as well? ""She told us
that September 11had really hurt our chances, because now the U.S. was mad at
terrorists and would never pay anything. As far as other sources of money were
concerned, the stakes had grown too big for ransom. And besides, the Philippine
generals and government officials would need their cut. It was not very encouraging
news. [...] While there, I learned that a new plan was being hatched. Sabaya said,
"Arlyn, you can go out and sell this footage to CNN or some network for at
least a million dollars - maybe two million. Just send it back to us directly
for their ransom, and then we can let them go. You'll get to be famous, we'll
get paid - everybody will be happy." (199)." In her conversation
with Gloria Arroyo, Gracia had this to say: "I told her I wasn't mad at
anybody, and I wasn't blaming anybody - except the Abu Sayyaf. I assured her that
we had never forgotten who the bad guys were (280)." Despite all the insights
to the contrary, how can Gracia still maintain this sense of good versus bad?
Where in a world plagued with everyone trying to get a cut, everyone trying to
push their own agenda - there is no more clarity about who the good guys are and
the bad guys are. It would seem from the evidence she herself provides that all
hands are stained. The lesson we need to walk away with after putting the book
down and engaging in this process is that all the naiveté just melts away
and that there is more complexity. We cannot even attempt to solve problems in
that part of the world with dichotomies but a more sophisticated understanding
of the local conditions. If any insight should stick - let it be this. |
 | In Our Image: America's Empire in the Philippines
by Stanley Karnow: An experienced foreign correspondent, Karnow has penned
an engaging and exhaustive narrative of US engagement in the Philippines. Karnow
ends where he starts, with Cory Aquino. Cory spoke to a joint session of Congress
with an entreaty for desperately needed aid and foreign investment. Karnow then
deftly gives us a synopsis of incidents culminating in to Cory Aquino's appearance
in Washington. Karnow later delves into the martyrdom of Ninoy Aquino. He describes
the licentious reign of the Marcoses. He explains Marcos' loss in the presidential
election to Ninoy's widow Cory Aquino. Karnow also delves into the Marcoses' eventual
exile to Hawaii and Reagan's vacillation regarding the removal. Finally, Karnow
sensitively explores President Aquino's eroding popularity and its impact on the
Philippines. Karnow articulates the long history of the Philippines, of which
he writes that it was: "Three centuries in a Catholic convent and fifty years
in Hollywood." Karnow writes at the conclusion of this first chapter: "Few
countries ... have been more heavily shackled by the past than the Philippines."
How much of that, we have to ask is really his form of neo-colonialism. I will
not deny Karnow's place as a great writer and his amazing insight into the Philippine
situation. However, as much as he is an insider, he has to temper his writing
that is heavily influenced by his personal friendship and sentiment for the Aquinos.
To Karnow's credit, the project is vast. The scope of the book starts from Ferdinand
Magellan's accidental arrival in the Philippines in 1521 and ends in Aquino's
appeal to the US Congress in 1986. Karnow's rendition of the history of the Philippines
is both resplendent and sensational. Karnow appropriately provides a cast of pivotal
characters at the end of the book. The motley crew of notables includes such diverse
personalities as William McKinley, Emilio Aguinaldo, Theodore Roosevelt, William
Howard Taft, Edward Lansdale and Ramon Magsaysay. Also included are notables like
Manuel Quezon, Sergio Osmena, Sr., Carlos P. Romulo and Douglas MacArthur -- the
self-created redeemer of the Philippines. Karnow posits that the egregious corruption
and uncontrolled plunder that bewilder the Philippines can only be grasped within
it's unique historical context. Karnow takes great pains to elucidate this points
by continually going back to the extensive archive of historical links to the
US. In the end, he will write: "Yet the critics who derided her (Cory Aquino)
for relying on America for salvation had either forgotten or deliberately ignored
reality. If only to serve its own interests, America had repeatedly rescued the
Philippines -- just as, out of gratitude for relatively benign tutelage, Filipinos
had sacrificed themselves for the US. So both Americans and Filipinos implicitly
understood that, however, lopsided, thorny and at times frustrating their 'special
relationship' might be, it reflected a century of shared experience." Karnow
writes that owing to the fact that the US has consistently supported the oligarchy
as the fount for political leaders, the status quo was reinforced. Owing to this
reforms that were promised during election campaigns were never instituted. Karnow
contends that the US placed its stamp of approval on the corruption the plagues
the Philippines. Corruption in the Philippines, according to Karnow, can be traced
all the way back to Spanish rule in the islands. Thus, the anomaly of Ferdinand
Marcos' reign is his perseverance, not his rapacity. Peter Tarr outlined in the
National that: "This is a peculiar and misleading book... Karnow is one of
America's sentimental imperialists. He laments the errors of those who intervened,
but not the act of intervention itself. Rather than criticize or condemn American
colonialists, he emphasizes that they intended to help... [Karnow] is well placed
to dispel some of the myths that have been passed down over the years. But rather
than demystify, he has given new life to some of the most pernicious of these...
Karnow's claim of ethical neutrality is preposterous; In Our Image is full of
ethical judgment, and in the main they indicate the author's inclination to explain
away the American colonial impulse." You, the reader, be the judge. However,
I will echo Tarr in that Karnow is far from neutral -- he is clouded by the almost
romantic notions he has of the Aquinos -- particularly Cory. However, he does
redeem himself when he takes step back to try to be objective about her administration.
In the end, Karnow's history is an elucidation rather than a prescription. Karnow
argues that the Philippines has many "issues" to which there are no
easy answers, no shortcuts. I concur with Karnow on this point and add that perhaps
a re-evaluation of our values may shed some light into this almost chronic situation.
Karnow's Pulitzer Prize is well deserved as he has accomplished what few writers
have been able to do, he has simplified (without essentializing) a complex history.
Karnow's use of a mix personal reflection as well as historical record, he has
made "In Our Image" is both engrossing and educational. A must read
for novice historians like myself. For those interested in the special topics
of Asian studies -- this is a must have and must be widely discussed. |
 | Little Brown Brother: How the United States Purchased
and Pacified the Philippines by Leon Wolff: In Little Brown Brother, Leon
Wolff contends that while Jose Rizal was a catalyst for the movement, Emilio Aguinaldo
was "Revolution incarnate." Wolf describes Aguinaldo as a stubborn man
of limited education who cleverly unified eight million people in the revolution
against Spain. He reportedly had a great hatred for the Spanish and sought to
prove that the Filipino was mentally and morally above the Europeans. As a result
of imperialism, the US took control of the Philippines, Guam, and Puerto Rico
via the Spanish American War. Although there was still an abundant amount of land
throughout the world that applied to the Manifest Destiny ideology, acquiring
land on opposite sides of the globe required new methods. It would not be as easy
as building roads and displacing a few thousand American Indians. Controlling
colonial possession thousands of miles away required a new military commitment.
This commitment came by way of a modern Navy. The US steamed into oversees expansion
when the Federal Government commissioned the building of several cruisers and
battleships between 1883 to 1890. It was clear to the US that those countries
who controlled the seas, controlled their own destiny. Wolff has done some
extensive research and has come up with a balanced account of the situation in
the Philippines during the Spanish American war. Little is really known of the
extent of the atrocities that were the result of the Manifest Destiny and Benevolent
Assimilation ideology but Wolf is balanced in his treatment of, on the Militray
side: Aguinaldo, Dewey, Otis, and McArthur. On the political side, he is clear
to point out that there was opposition to this proclomation for many reasons.
His extensive treatment of the debate between William Jennings Bryan and William
McKinley are also very extensive. An easy book to read and a very extensive and
well researched piece. I give it 5 stars. |
 | Invented Eden: The Elusive, Disputed History
of the Tasaday by Robin Hemley: Robin Hemley is quick to point out that human
beings are enamored by the romantic aspect of finding what Rousseau called "The
Noble Savage." Admit it - it is a seductive concept. In 1971, just over 30
years ago, a small tribe was apparently "discovered" living in and around
the Cotabato jungle in southern Mindanao. Predictably, the world media was thrilled
about the discovery of the "Stone Age" "Gentle Tasaday," rainforest
inhabitants living "like prehistoric man" in caves. Journalists and
some anthropologists were quick to call it "the anthropological find of the
century." On the flipside, they were just as quick to label it "the
hoax of the century." Anyone with any connection to the Marcos administration
is familiar with the modus operandi of taking a shred to truth and blowing it
up eventually ending up a story that had no connection to its original - as "exhibit
A" I present the Plaza Miranda bombings, the issue of Marcos medals, and
now the Tasaday. Is it simulation or simulacra? There is one lesson I learned
after closing Robin Hemley's Invented Eden: The Elusive, Disputed History of the
Tasaday, that history is more about the present and the future than it is about
the "truth" or the past. It is all about agendas and those who try to
explain this inscrutable tribe in or out often end up revealing more about themselves
then they do of their object of study. I am more reminded about what Michel Foucault
wrote about discourses than I was about Jean Baudrillard's musings on simulacra.
In Discipline and Punish, Foucault writes: "In this central and centralized
humanity, the effect and instruments of complex power relations, bodies and forces
subjected to multiple mechanisms of `incarceration', objects for discourses that
are in themselves elements for this strategy, must we hear the distant roar of
battle." A creative-writing professor, Hemley, in my opinion is not suited
to tackle the anthropological issues that revolve around the Tasaday's story.
He is however well suited to deal with the narrative surrounding the Tasadays,
a story that is part fact and part fiction, some science and mostly sensationalism.
At the locus of this controversy is the authorial function of Manuel "Manda"
Elizalde Jr. a Harvard-educated former minister of indigenous people (PANAMIN).
On this premise alone, one can rest assured that the facts will be skewed - turning
the little anthropological contribution the Tasaday may have offered to the world
into a gong show. Hemley's conclusions are vaguer than anything. If you are looking
for a heavily researched academic thesis or answer to this question, this is not
the book to read. With all the story telling and personal narrative, Hemley sounds
more like an apologist for John Nance. One way to look at this book is that the
real story is man's ability to violate the prime directive, augment, influence,
attribute and promote an agenda. In closing out this section, Invented Eden is
not about the hoax of the Tasadays but the narrative of a rogue's gallery of actors
with as much to gain on the one hand and as much to lose on the other - if the
Tasaday episode was proven to be a hoax. With so much done to prevent experts
from studying the Tasaday, the cloud of suspicion will always hang over it and
will forever be a stain to the Filipino identity. The book tries to be balanced
- Hemley needs to be given kudos for thiss. However, in the end Hemley is just
another actor trying to make a cottage industry out of this tragic situation.
We cannot really escape the discourse we are so trying to deconstruct. Despite
the efforts of Swiss reporter Oswald Iten and three heavily agendad conferences
later, the Tasaday myth might have remained forgotten but the problem of the Tasaday's
genuineness remains without any real closure. On the high side, Invented Eden
is a good story. Based on Hemley's intrepid nature we are introduced to places
we would not normally see as well as people we would never meet. Invented Eden
was tough slogging for 339 pages even if I was really interested in the subject).
Revisionism is making a strong case for itself in both anthropology and history
- which is a double edged sword. Taken too its extreme, we will become how Hemley
describes postmodern thinkers - as navel gazers more interested in discussing
signs and symbols. On the flipside, Hemley likes to point to Claude Levi-Strauss's
warning of professional posers. What is at stake here is simulacrum. Think about
it... we found a community so primitive it mimicked Stone Age culture - for the
romantic in us, it would provide an antidote to a society hell bent on violence
and consumerism - would it really be so bad to find something like that? Scientists
and writers the world over were desperate that they would just as easily invent
it. Even Hemley is quick to point that someone would love to point out that man
had hit a point of no return, like we took the wrong turn. Just to get a handle
on what John Nance, Judith Moses, Oswald Iten and yes, even Robin Hemley have
at stake, is it important to read this book. It is against this backdrop that
I am reminded of Jean Baudrillard, who writes: "It is against this hell of
the paradox that the ethnologists wished to protect themselves by cordoning off
the Tasaday with virgin forest... The Tasaday, frozen in their natural element,
will provide a perfect alibi, an eternal guarantee" from Simulacra and Simulation.
Read the book, in it we will discover less about the Tasaday and more about ourselves
|
 | Ghost Soldiers: The Epic Account of World War
II's Greatest Rescue Mission by Hampton Sides: The book is good - a most narratives
go. However, I found the book a little one sided. Not to harp on the notion of
winner narrative versus loser narrative, the problem with hero worship pieces
is that it fails to give the Other (in this case the Japanese) a fair listening
to. In my defense let me just say this: I am not saying that the men of the US
Sixth Ranger battalion were not heroes, that is beyond dispute, heroes they are
indeed! However, unlike a two-sided piece like Tora, Tora, Tora; Ghost Soldiers
lends itself to some inexcusable biases and embellishment. Allow me to reiterate,
I salute the 121 men of the Sixth Ranger Battalion. As a summary: Hampton
Sides presents his narrative in a war-correspondent style, of a military operation
in the Philippines during World War II. In this operation, a 121 strong US Sixth
Ranger Battalion lead by Lieutenant Colonel Henry Mucci was ordered to rescue
prisoners of war in the town of Cabanatuan in an effort to stave of what US officials
feared might be a final solution by a desperate and nearly defeated Japanese army.
Alongside a dedicated group of Filipino guerillas, Mucci and his men accomplished
their mission. No doubt that the abandonment of the needs of the POWs by the
Japanese is a hotly contested issue: Was it some culturally based bias of the
Japanese against soldiers that they thought were unfit for service because they
surrendered? Was it a breakdown in the infrastructure that led to the Japanese
inability to handle so many POWs? Was it a conscious attempt by the Japanese to
eliminate the burden of so many prisoners? Was it fear on the side of the Japanese
that if they were caught, they might be subject to the same kinds of atrocities?
These questions and more have been asked over and over with conflicting responses.
Sides argues from a perspective of cynical abandonment. Arguably Sides took a
position that somehow Cabanatuan was unique. However, records show that conditions
were no worse in the Philippines than other places in Asia. This does not diminish
the importance of what these men accomplished: absolutely not. However, Ghost
Soldiers diminishes what happened in other places in Asia in terms of the Japanese
imposed conditions. I have difficulty working my way around this dilemma but it
almost seems like the actual events that occurred are less important than what
the events and the subsequent narrative are put to in the present and for the
future. The vilification of the Japanese gives them no dimension and no complexity
and that tends to marginalize their narrative. There can be no doubt that the
Japanese treated the Americans and Filipinos with brutality. Why? I guess we will
never really know for sure. However, Sides does two things here: he brings to
presence and remembrance the heroism of the US Sixth Ranger battalion, for which
we should all be grateful, and he is part and parcel of a trend to overly dramatize
military encounters to give a sense of heroism that we can very much appreciate
unmediated. |