Revolution and the University of the Philippines
by F. Sionil Jose
What is an old man like myself doing here, talking about revolution?
Hindsight is the lowest form of wisdom. I can tell you what it was
like when your campus was nothing but cogon waste, when all those
trees that line your streets were just saplings.
I can tell you, also, why we were left behind by all our neighbors
when in the fifties and the sixties we were the richest, most
progressive country in the region, when Seoul, Tokyo, were ravaged by
war and Kuala Lumpur and Jakarta were mere kampongs, when Bangkok was
a sleepy town criss-crossed by canals. I never was in China till
1979, but I know in the forties that country was always threatened by
famine. It had a population then of only half a billion. Now, with
more than a billion people, famine is no longer a threat, although
hunger still lurks in some of its distant regions.
Hunger has always been with some of us, too, but not as much as it is
now when so many poor Filipinos eat only once a day. Altanghap, I
wonder how many of you know what that word means.
So then, why are we poor? Why do our women flee to foreign cities to
work as housemaids, as prostitutes?
We are poor because we have lost our ethical moorings, this in spite
of those massive religious rallies of EI Shaddai, those neo-gothic
churches of the Iglesia ni Kristo sprouting all over the country, in
spite of the nearly 400 years of Catholic evangelization.
How can we build an ethical society? We must remember that so-called
values are neutral--that so much depends on how people use them.
James Fallows' thesis on our "damaged culture" which many of us
understand is neither permanent nor inherent.
Ramon Magsaysay infused public life in the fifties with discipline
and morality, Arsenio Lacson as mayor of Manila cleaned up City Hall.
Even today, shining examples of honesty among our public officials
exist, but they are few and far between and they are not
institutionalized.
And it is precisely here where the university comes in with its
courses in the humanities.
Of all the arts, only literature teaches us ethics. Literature
presents us with problems, complex equations that deal with the human
spirit and how often the choice between right and wrong is made. In
this process, we are compelled to use our conscience, to validate the
choice we make, and render the meaning, the pith of our existence.
The university then is the real cathedral of a nation, and its
humanities particularly its literature department, the altar. But how
many of our teachers know this crucial function of literature, how
many teachers themselves possess this sense of worth, and mission?
To know ourselves, to make good and proper use of our consciences, we
must know our own history. So few of us do, in fact, we nurture no
sense of the past.
If our teachers know our history, if they soak it in their bones,
then it follows that they also impart this very same marrow to their
students.
If this is so, how come that when Bongbong Marcos visited Diliman
some time ago, he was mobbed by students who wanted his autograph?
How come that in La Salle, business students cited Marcos as the best
President this country ever had?
Not too long ago, I spoke before freshmen at the Ateneo and was told
that since so many practice bribery, it must be right, or how could
anyone get things done if palms are not greased?
In this university are professors who served Marcos. Have they ever
been asked what their role was?
We are poor because we are not moral. Can this immorality as
evidenced by widespread corruption be quantified? Yes, about 23
billion pesos a year is lost according to NGO estimates.
We are poor because we have no sense of history, and therefore, no
sense of nation. The nationalism that was preached to my generation
by Claro M. Recto and Lorenzo Tañada was phony; how they could have
convinced so many intellectuals is in itself the failure of those
intellectuals to analyze that inward, socially meaningless
nationalism.
Recto and Tañada opposed agrarian reform, the single most important
political act that could have lifted this country then from poverty
and released the peasantry from its centuries-old bondage.
We are poor because our elites from way back had no sense of nation--
they collaborated with whoever ruled--the Spaniards, the Japanese,
the Americans and in recent times, Marcos. Our elites imbibed the
values of the colonizer.
And worst of all, these wealthy Filipinos did not modernize this
country--they sent abroad their wealth distilled from the blood and
sweat of our poor. The rich Chinese to China, to Taiwan, to Hong
Kong, the rich mestizos to Europe, and the rich Indios like Marcos to
Switzerland and the United States--moneys that could have developed
this nation.
How do we end this shameless domestic colonialism? The ballot failed;
the bullet then? How else but through the cleansing power of
revolution. Make no mistake about it--revolution means the transfer
of power from the decadent upper classes to the lower classes.
Revolution is class war whose objective is justice and freedom.
Who will form the vanguard of change? Who else but the very people
who will benefit from it.
Listen, when I was researching for my novel POON at the New York
Public Library, I came across photographs of our soldiers of the 1896
revolution felled in their trenches by American guns. I looked
closely and found that most of them were barefoot. They were peasants.
The peasant is the truest nationalist. He works the land with his
hands, he knows instinctively what the term Motherland means. He
loves this earth, even worships it. The Ilocano farmer calls it Apo
Daga.
But never romanticize the poor. Once, a group of Ph.D.s lamented the
futility of their efforts in organizing and motivating them. When the
elections came that year, the poor sold their votes, or voted for
Erap.
Understand why they are often lazy, contemptible, fawning, cheating
and stealing. Imagine yourself not having a centavo in your pocket
now, and you don't know if you will eat tonight. There is nothing
honorable about poverty--it is totally dehumanizing and degrading.
But once the very poor are roused from their stupor, they become the
bravest, the most steadfast. Remember those Watawat ng Lahi followers
felled by Constabulary guns on Taft Avenue in 1965? They believed
that with their faith they were invincible.
It is with such faith and righteousness that our peasants rebelled in
living memory, the Colorums in 1931, the Sakdals in 1935, and the
Huks in 1949-53.
The Moro rebellion, the New People's Army--the cadres of both are
from our very poor, just like it was in 1896. And now, here is the
most tragic contradiction in our country. Our Armed Forces--its
officers corps--many come from the lower classes, too; they got to
their exalted positions through public examinations and entry to the
Philippine Military Academy. Our Armed Forces enlisted men--most of
them come from the very poor.
When the poor kill the poor, who profits?
The Ideology of the Revolution
Revolution starts in the mind and heart. It alters attitudes to
enable us to think beyond ourselves, family and ethnicity to
encompass the whole nation. If the communists win and I don't think
they ever will, they will rule just as badly because they are
Filipinos unable to go beyond barnacled habits of mind, hostage as
they always are to friends and family and to towering egos. The same
egos aborted the revolution in 1896, the EDSA revolution in 1986, and
now, we see the same egos wrecking havoc on the Communist Party. We
see these egos eroding our already rotten political system.
The core belief that should guide us in redeeming our unhappy country
is in our history, in our peasantry. It is not in textbooks, in
foreign intellectual idols, in Marx. And what is this ideology which
Bonifacio believed in? Which those barefoot soldiers killed by the
Americans believed in? Pedro Calosa, the peasant leader who led the
Colorum uprising in Tayug, Pangasinan in 1931 said it is this: "God
resides in every man. God created earth, water and air for all men.
It is against God's laws for one family or one group to own them."
God and country; translate this belief into your own words and there
you have it in its simplest terms the creed with which the
unfulfilled revolution of 1896 was based, and which should be the
same creed that should forge unity among us.
Who will lead the revolution?
Certainly, not the masa, but one from the masa who understands them,
who will not betray them, the way our leaders betrayed the masa.
Estrada is the most shameful example of that leadership that betrayed.
The leaders of the revolution could be in this university, who have
the education, but who are not shackled by alien concepts, or the
attitudes of superiority that destroy leadership. Such leaders, like
Ho Chi Minh, must lead by sterling example, with integrity, courage,
compassion and willingness to sacrifice, who know that when the
revolution is won, it is time to change from conspirators to even
better administrators, remembering that they have become
conservative, that they must now work even harder to produce better
and cheaper products. And this massive work of modernization can be
achieved in one generation. The Koreans, Taiwanese and the Japanese
did it. It is not the Confucian ethic that enabled them to do this,
they understood simply the logic of government which is service and
that of commerce which is profit.
By what right do I have to urge revolution upon our people who will
suffer it? What right do I have to urge the young to sacrifice, the
poor to get even poorer, if they embrace the revolutionary creed?
I have no such right, nor will I call it such. I call it duty, duty,
duty. Duty for all of us rooted in our soil, who believe that our
destiny is freedom.
Not everyone can bear arms, or have the physical strength to stand
up, to shout loudly about the injustices that prevail around us.
Those who cannot do these, who cannot be part of this radical
movement, must not help those who enslave us. Do not give them
legitimacy as so many gave legitimacy to Marcos. Recognize, identify
our enemies and oppose them with all your means.
This will then test integrity, commitment.
Nobody need tell us the exorbitant cost of revolution, the lives that
will be lost, senselessly even as when Pol Pot massacred thousands of
his own countrymen in Cambodia. We who lived through the Japanese
Occupation know what hunger, fear, and flight mean.
Joseph Conrad, Albert Camus and Jose Rizal--writers I admire deeply,
all warned against revolution because it breeds tyrants, because it
does not always bring change. But look around us, at the thousands of
Filipinos who are debased and hungry, who are denied justice. Be
shamed if you don't act. And as Salud Algabre, the Sakdal general
said in 1935-- "No rebellion fails. Each is a step in the right
direction."
Revolution need not even have to be bloody. How many lives were lost
at EDSA I? Not even 20. So Cory goes around telling the world that
she had restored democracy in the Philippines. Sure enough, we now
have free elections, free speech, free assembly but these are the
empty shells of democratic institutions because the real essence of
democracy does not exist here. And that real essence is in the
stomach--as when the taxi driver in Tokyo eats the same sashimi as
the Japanese emperor, or the bus driver in Washington who can eat the
same steak as President Bush in the White House. Contrast these with
that jobless Cavite laborer whose two children died because he fed
them with garbage. No, Cory Aquino's EDSA revolution could not even
have our garbage properly collected. Worse, nineteen farmer
demonstrators were killed near Malacanan because she refused to see
them. True to her oligarchic class, she declared a revolutionary
government without doing anything revolutionary; instead, she turned
EDSA I into a restoration of the old oligarchy. So today, we are
reaping the results of her negligence, ignorance and folly.
Yet, even capitalism can be very helpful. South Korea is a very good
example of how capital was formed by corruption, and how a single-
minded general lifted that nation from the ashes of the Korean War,
into the thriving modem economy which Korea is today.
Remember the slogans of American capitalism--
a chicken in every pot, a Ford in every garage. Money is like
fertilizer--to do any good it
must be spread around. Those robber barons at the turn of the 19th
century were rapacious, they exploited their workers, but they built
industries, railroads, banks, the sinews of American capitalism. And
the most important thing--they kept their money home to develop
America. Unlike our rich Chinese, our rich meztizos and the likes of
Marcos who sent their money abroad to keep us poor. They are the
enemy.
It has been said again and again that we are, indeed, a young nation
compared with other Asian countries whose august civilizations date
back to two thousand years or more. Indeed, so are the Filipinos who
shaped this nation--those who led the revolution against Spain--they
were all young, like you are, in their twenties or early thirties.
Rizal was 34 when he was martyred.
How then do we keep young without having to grow old only to see the
fire in our minds and hearts die? How does the nation's leading
university maintain its vitality, its youth against the ravages of
consumerism, of globalism?
How else but to keep the mind ever healthy, ever alive by empowering
it with those ideas that nurture change and revolution itself, by
ingesting the technological age so that we can use technology for
realizing our ideals.
How else but to embrace the ideas that make us doubt technology,
society, even revolution itself, but never, never about who we are,
what we should do and hope to be.
We cannot be beholden to any other nation. Jose Maria Sison doomed
his revolution when he turned to China for assistance; he ignored
the "objective reality"--the latent anti-Chinese feeling among
Filipinos, in fact among all Southeast Asians who fear a Chinese
hegemony.
We must mould our own destiny, infusing it with the strength of a
sovereign people. The Americans, the English, French, Russians,
Cubans, Chinese, Vietnamese--all achieved their unique revolutions.
We must have our very own, defined only by us.
How to build it, direct it, use it for the betterment of our lives,
the flowering of liberty--I see all these as the major function of
the university which, after all, shapes our leaders. I pray that UP
will graduate the best doctors, the best engineers, the best
teachers, the best bureaucrats. The revolution needs them all. But
most of all, let this university of the people produce the ultimate
modernizer, the heroic nationalist revolutionary--we need him most of
all.
Delivered November 23, 2004
http://www.up.edu.ph/fsioniljose_lecture.htm
<http://www.up.edu.ph/fsioniljose_lecture.htm>
Labels: Mindsets