Tag Archives: Lumad
Resistance and Struggle of Lumad Tribes of Mindanao 1903-1935
In written works on the struggles of Filipinos against colonial America, one is lucky to find a single mention of the participation of the tribal peoples of Mindanao. Nothing is written about it in textbooks in Social Studies or in Philippine History, and we are not aware of any comprehensive study being undertaken about it today. This paper attempts to fill this vacuum. This is a product of a modest research on the resistance of the Lumad against the unwanted intervention of colonial America and on the lives of these tribal people.
As a name referring collectively to the indigenous peoples of Mindanao who are distinct from the Bangsa Moro, “Lumad” is fairly recent. Its use requires a brief explanation. At the Founding Congress of Lumad Mindanaw in Kidapawan, Cotabato in June 1986, fifteen our of the estimated eighteen tribes of the non-Muslim indigenous peoples agreed to use the collective name “Lumad.” This is a Cebuano word which means indigenous or native. Having no common word with which to call themselves, and since Cebuano was the lingua franca they used in their conferences they readily agreed to adopt the name.
The following ethnolinguistic groups comprise the Lumad: Ata, Bagobo, Banwaon, B’laan, Bukidnon, Higaunun, Mamanwa, Mandaya, Mangguwangan, Mansaka, Subanon, Tagakaolo, T’boli, Tiruray, Manobo and Kalagan. Also excluded from these are indigenous peoples already integrated with the majority population such as the Surigaonons of Surigao, the Butuanons of Butuan, Misamisnons in Misamis Occidental and Oriental, and the Dapitanons in Zamboanga del Norte.
Today, the terms Lumad and Bangsa Moro are recognized by law, as provided for in Republic Act 6734, otherwise known as “An Act Providing for an Organic Act for the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao.” For the purpose of this paper, it will suffice to give a general indication of the various provinces where the different ethnolinguistic groups were settled during the first decade of 20th century. We will use the present names of the provinces and their respective borders. Although there were only nine provinces in Mindanao at the end of the first decade of the 20th century and today there are twenty-two, the general locations of their settlements have not changed much.
The earlier provinces were Agusan, Surigao, Davao, Cotabato, Bukidnon, Misamis, Lanao, Zamboanga and Sulu. The only change has been their partitioning into: Agusan del Norte; Agustan del Sur; Bukidnon; Surigao del Norte, Surigao del Sur; Davao del Norte, Davao Oriental, Davao del Sur; Cotabato, South Cotabato, Sultan Kudarat, Maguindanao; Misamis Occidental, Misamis Oriental, Camiguin; Lanao del Norte, Lanao del Sur; Zamboanga del Norte, Zamboanga del Sur; Basilan; Sulu, Tawi-tawi, and the chartered cities of Davao City, Iligan City, Zamboanga City and others.
Let us start from the east and proceed southward.
The Mamanwas inhabited the area around Lake Mainit where Agusan del Norte and Surigao del Norte are situated. From Surigao City they would filter down to the east coast, until the Tago River in Surigao del Sur. Next to the Mamanwa were the Mandaya, who had lived along Tago River in Surigao del Sur down to Mati, Davao Oriental; then westward until the head of Agusan River in Agusan del Sur and to Salug River in Davao del Norte.
In Davao Oriental and Davao del Norte would be found in the Mansaka, Mangguwangan, and the Dibabawon, all close kin of the Mandaya. At the lower portion of Davao Oriental, particularly at Cabo de San Agustin, dwelt Manobo, and Tagakaolo residents. In the island of Samal, which is now part of Davao del Norte, resided the Isamal who, in the accounts of Spanish missionaries, were a mixture of Samal and Mandaya, but not Muslim. In the western part of Davao del Norte approaching Davao City there lived the Ata, and from their territory downward to Davao del Sur would be found the Guiangga, Tagbanwa, and Bagobo.There were also Moros in Davao but they settled along the shoreline of Davao Gulf. More specifically, out of the seventeen communities noted in 1870, the Moros lived by themselves in seven and intermingled with the Mandaya, Bisaya, Bagobo and B’laan in the last ten.
Let us return to the north. In Agusan del Norte and Agusan del Sur, especially along the entire lenght of Agusan River, there was a great concentration of Manobo people. There were also the Banwaon in Agusan del Sur. The western part of Agusan del Norte was the starting point of the Bukidnon habitat, crossing the north of Bukidnon and the entire stretch of Misamis Oriental , up to Iligan City. To the southern part of Bukidnon the Manobo inhabitants formed a bridge settlement towards the Manobo of Cotabato, and the Ata-Manobo around Davao City. There were no Lumad living in Lanao except some Higaunon (or Bukidnon) in Iligan City. At the Bukidnon-Lanao border area, particularly in the present municipalities of Talakag and Pangantukan, there were also Maranao residents.
Aside from the Manobo and the B’laan, the T’Boli (South Cotabato) and Tiduray or Tiruray were also Cotabato inhabitants. It was also in Cotabato where the Maguindanao and the Iranun peoples were concentrated, especially in Maguindanao province. In South Cotabato and Davao del Sur were to be found Sangil settlements.
The entire Zamboanga peninsula, which now consists of the three provinces of Zamboanga del Norte and Sur and Misamis Occidental, has been referred to as the traditional territory of the Subanon, although Zamboanga del Sur has long been home to the Maguindanaon, Iranun, and Sama and the western part of Zamboanga del Norte, especially where the municipalities of Siocon, Sibuco, and Siraway are situated, has become Tausug and Sama homeland. From the Sama and Subanon a mix has emerged, the Kalibugan ethnolinguistic group. They also consider themselves as Moro.
As a whole, the Lumad in the first decade of the 20 th century lived in territories that now correspond to the seventeen provinces. No Moro mixed with the Lumad in Agusan, Surigao, Misamis and Camiguin. But they did in Davao, Bukidnon, Cotabato, Lanao del Norte and Zamboanga. Based on the 1903 and 1918 censuses, it is clear that the Lumads were not a minority in the provinces of Agusan, Bukidnon and Davao. If the Christians were a majority in Surigao, Misamis and Zamboanga, this had its beginnings during the Spanish period when the colonialists maintained their bases in these places and it was here that the missionaries attracted several natives, Lumad and Moro alike, to be baptized. In Cotabato, the Moro were clearly in the majority.
An Overview of Indigenous Resistance in Mindanao and Sulu, 1903-1935
The colonialists happened to be conscientious reporters of their accomplishments and one of the most detailed accounts of the past are the official reports of the Philippine Constabulary (PC). Foremost among these is The Story of the Philippine Constabulary, 1904-1935 written by Harold H. Elarth. He was a veteran of what they proudly described as the Mindanao Campaigns. He started as a lieutenant and towards the end of his story was already a colonel. His book is a collection of reports from different parts of the Archipelago. Those about Mindanao contain his own experiences, or those of his friends and comrades in arms in the Constabulary. Although the bias was obvious in his write-ups, one can discern the role of their adversaries, whom they frequently engaged in combat. They themselves can serve as mirror in our analysis of the details we need.
The Philippine Constabulary was organized by the Americans in 1901 purportedly to maintain peace and order. Its regular constables consisted of indigenous Filipinos, but its officers were all Americans, and remained so until 1935. In this matter, the colonialists were able to maintain their interest without having to employ Army Regulars or American Volunteers.
Let us first look at the summary of the events from 1903 to 1935, then discuss each of the more significant incidents of resistance. In the first decade alone of American Occupation in Mindanao, until as late as 1914, there were already fierce engagements against the local people, an eloquent indication of the intensity of the indigenous peoples’ resistance in Mindanao and Sulu against the new colonizers. There were hundreds of raids directed against forths and 26 uprisings occurred which , on account of their magnitude, the Americans categorized as “military campaigns.” Most of the engagements took place in Sulu, Lanao and Cotabato. But uprisings also erupted in Davao, Agusan, Bukidnon, Misamis and Zamboanga. The second decade was not as intense although sporadic fightings also occured.
But in the third decade, especially towards 1928, the PC was busy again. Earlier, until 1914, Americans troops were very mush involved in the engagements. But as soon as a sufficient number of Philippine Scouts had enlisted, it was they and the PC contingents who were employed to confront the uprisings. The years 1931-1935 went into the records of the Constabulary as “The Mindanao Pacification Campaign.” There were also some eruptions in the Agusan area, Aside from the usual hot spots — Sulu, Lanao and Cotabato.
In 1935, Elarth reported, Moro casualties lay between 15,000 to 20,000. They had no compiled statistics for the Lumad, but from Elarth’s book we are able to collect no less than twenty nine incidents or engagements involving them, although details lacked consistency: Manobo (11 engagements); Higaunon (4); Tiduray (3); Bukidnon (2); Bagobo (2); Mandaya (2); Mansaka (1); Tagakaolo (1); B’laan (1). What we shall discuss are the significant cases of Lumad resistance. (a) the uprisign that revolved around the assassination of Governor Bolton in Davao in 1906; (b) the Tungud movement that began in Davao and spread to Agusan and Bukidnon in 1908-1910; (c) the Subanon uprising in 1909-1914; (d) the rebellion of the Langkat in Cotabato in 1926-1927; and (e) the response of the Bagobo to the encroachment of the Japanese into their lands in 1918-1935.
Uprising in Davao, 1906-1908; Governor Bolton was Slain
It was on June 6, 1906 when Governor Edward C. Bolton of Davao was killed. His head was cleaved by Datu Mungalayan, a well known Tagakaolo chieftain from Malalag, now a municipality of Davao del Sur. Mungalayan was then the recent appointee of Bolton as deputy chief of Tribal Ward No. 6 of the Tagakaolo, and he was to be responsible for the settlement pf the Manobo people. Also slain with Bolton was Benjamin Christian, an American planter. After a few months, on August 3, 1906. Mangalayan was also killed.
At first glance, there is no rebellion in the story. But investigation conducted by the authorities revealed some unexpected angles. But before we proceed let us clarify the meaning of Tribal Ward No. 6.
Davao was one of the five district constituting the Moro Province created in 1903. The others were Cotabato, Lanao, Zamboanga, and Sulu. Agusan and Bukidnon were made the Special Province of Agusan because the majority of the people living there were Lumad. Surigao and Misamis were made regular provinces where most of the citizens were Christians. The status of special province was viewed by the colonial government as a preliminary step that would prepare the Moro and the Lumad to be citizens of a regular unit of the government’s political structure. It must be pointed out here that the American’s considered them uncivilized, thus, the Tribal World was a step towards civilizing them.
There were six Tribal Wards in Davao: No. 1 was among the Ata, No. 2 the Bagobo, No. 3 the Guianggas, No. 4 the Mandaya, No. 5 the Moros and No. 6 the Tagakaolo. There were eighteen in Cotabato, thirteen in Lanao, nine in Sulu and five in Zamboanga, the the sub-districts numbered fofty-six. The law establishing the Tribal Ward also provided for the district governon, like Bolton, to appoint his deputy or representative for every Ward. As much as possible, the appointee was a chieftain acknowledged as leader by his members. The district governor was also authorized to create additional sub-tribal wards whenever necessary.
Governor Bolton was just beginning to establish Tribal Wards when he was killed. The investigation unearthed that on February 22 of that year, he had assembled the known members of the various tribes in Malalag, and formed many Tribal Wards. It was not at all hard for the Tagakaolo, Manobo, B’laan and kalagan people who were close neighbors. He also induced them, including the Moro, Bagobo, and Mandaya, to permanently transfer their respective communities to the coastal areas and to plant abaca, coconuts and other crops, instead of practicing kaingin which was good for one harvest of palay and camote. He explained that too many trees were destroyed by the kaingin.
He claimed to have earned the admiration and loyalty of the tribes because he went to their places alone and unarmed. He was able to persuade a Tagakaolo chieftain, Balawag, to descend from the mountains and to build his community near the shores of Malalag. In fact, in that February 22 conference, he appointed Balawag and Mangalayan to be the leader of the Tagakaolo Tribal Ward and his deputy, respectively, the latter being tasked to directly supervise one of the Manobo communities.
For a while, the situation among the Tribal Wards was manageable. But later, the planters said, tribals expressed their misgivings to the planters of Bulatakay, Padada, Malalag, and Kibulan. Rumors had it that certain Americans would ne killed, including the Governor and Mr. McCullough, a planter in Kibulan and the governor’s real assistant who directly supervised the newly created Tribal Ward of the Tagakaolos. The rumors spread and snowballed. Now all Americans from Digos to Kibulan were to be assassinated. The planters immediately reported this to the authorities.
It was also learned that tribal by the name of Simbanan had been doing healing work there for two years and this included the distribution of anting-anting or charms which would help ward off bad luck and cure illness, and so on. He was friend to both Balawag and Mangalayan and had tremendous influence over them. According to the investigator, he strongly suspected it was Simbanan who instigated Mangalayan to assassinate the Americans.
The testimonies of other tribal people revealed that Balawag, Simabanan, Mangalayan, and his relatives and friends and many other tribals as well, and Sulutan and Kawag from Digos held a conference at Mangalayan’s place at Daul. There they agreed that Mangalayan would kill and rob the Americans in Kibulan, Balawag would do his work in Malalag, and Sulutan and Kawag in Digos. It turned out that not all of the Lumad people there were agreeable to the plan. Those who opposed in conducted their own conference and swore to defend some of the planters.
More angles surfaced in the investigation. five to eight months had passed when, it was said, a Moro fanatic named Sumalugpun initiated a dance in Sumlug, now barrio in the municipality of Lupon in Davao Oriental. Moro chieftains Datu Compao and Datu Tomaras learned the dance and propagated it, as soon it became fashionable among the Lumad in the Tagum River Sumalugpun initiated a dance in Sumlug, now barrio in the area down to Padada and Kibulan. From scattered reports the investigators were able to priece together a mystery behind the dance.
Compao and Tomaras were said to be discovered a new god called Lavi. It was believed that as soon as it arrived, compao would be proclaimed king of the Moros, there would be bountiful harvests from the farms, the bolos ans the axes would work the fields by themselves while the Moro people sat and watched, the fish catch from hook and line would be plentiful even if the poles were short, and illness would vanish, and so on. But all these exchange for the donations given in abundance. Those who did not give anything would receive nothing. And Lavi would pluck out the tongue of whoever would tell on the Americans. Finally, the Bisayans would be slaves to the Moros and the Americans and Spaniards would be banished or killed.
Compao and Tomaras were reportedly triumphant at Sumlug. The two sent word to Datu Macibelan of Lepandi (Lapanday?) to come with all his friends to meet them immediately with plenty of tribute, to meet with Lavi and learn the dance. The datu came with nine of his friends. They were taught the dance and afterwards Compao and Tomaras ordained them as Tataiyan (preachers). They built a school in Lepandi. Their students from Sarangani learned the dance and in turn taught those from Daron, Digos, and Padada, who thereafter propugated it among the people. they received abundant contributions and half of these went to Compao and Tomaras. The B’laan and Tagakaolo also arrived, all bearing gifts. But the dance did not reach the southern part of Padada. The nine people mentioned above testified that Compao did mention something about Governor Bolton’s imminent death.
When Governor Bolton learned of the dance and its rapid spread, he personally went to Sumlug. He brough Compao and Tomaras back with him to Davao but did not imprison them. He allowed them instead to freely roam around the town and continue with their gift receiving activities. From there Bolton visited the place of Balawag and stayed for the night. The next day, he proceeded with Mr. Benjamin Christian to Mangalayan’s house/place and also stayed overnight. The following day they all visited Simbanan. Mangalayan had his two brothers with him. Before sundown they passes by a fisherman’s hut and Mangalayan and his brothers tarried awhile to chat with the folk. The story goes that bout thirty minutes later, Mangalayan arrived, still with his two brothers, and was heard to have said: “I have regained my manhood; I just killed the two Americans.” After a few days, Mangalayan and Datu Dauda, along with several Lumads from different tribes, looted the store of a certain Mr. McCullough.
It took the authorities two years to capture Bolton’s killers and the other people involved in the killing. At this time a certain Datu Andas posed as some kind of god and induced his compatriots to follow him. They did, but abandoned him after a month when he was captured and imprisoned. It was not mentioned in the report what Anda’s connection was with the assassination of Bolton, but it is important to note that during the first decade of American rule in Davao there were many other incidents showing the indigeous people’s opposition to foreigners staying in their lands. On January 31, 1903, for instance, four Mandayas slew William Sprague, a planter in Mapagba, the first American to fall on the hands of the Lumad. Since then, several other planters and their employees were reportedly slain.
Shortly after the Bolton incident, the authorities began the search for the culprits. In the raid at the house of Simbanan, one of his followers, Macumpa, was killed. The victim’s father, Cadui, sworet to avenge his son’s death. His first victim would have been a certain Mr. Harvey, also a planter, but it was he who was killed instead by the PC. In 1907, a Bagobo named Manga, was shot dead in prison by the PC. Earlier, Manga and his 27 followers had been arrested for refusing to pay taxes and to work in a road-bulding project.
The Tungud: A Religious Movement in Davao, 1908-1910
Initiated by a Manobo named Meskinan (Mapakla in real life), this movement started in 1908 among the Manobos along Lubuganon River in Davao. Stricken with cholera, so the symptoms indicated, and believed by relatives to be at the brink of certain death, he was abandoned by these same relatives. But after three days, he showed up, alive and well. He claimed that he was cured with the help of a benevolent diwata. More was added to the element of mystery since he trembled each time he finished telling hsi story. For his relatives, was sure proof that he was possessed by a good spirit. The story spread and by the time this reached the River Mawab, Meskinan had been transformed from an ordinary baylan to a god. He neither ate nor drank anymore.
Not long after, messages arrived in Mawab from Meskinan himself: The world would end after a month and the diwatas of the tribe would no longer assist the people wearing black. Meanwhile, he took it upon hinself to help the people save themselves from the collapsing world. He ordered the following:
1. Al chickens and pigs were to be killed at once; otherwise these would devour their owners.
2. No more crops were to be planted
3. A good building for religious purposes was to be erected in each settlement.
4. In each settlement there was to be one priest, who must have received his power from Meskinan himself, and several assistants who were to help propagate the news and to perform the prescribed services in distant ‘churches.’
5. The service were to consisct of praying to Meskinan, performing sacred dances in his honor, and forwarding offerings to him.
The priests would be called punoan, or leaders, and the assistants, taytayan, which means bridge. From the Manobo of Libuganon, the Tungud rebellion spread to the nearby Mandaya, to the Mangguwangan, to the Dibabawon, and to the Manobo at the head of Agusan River, even among those who had become Christians.
John M. Garvan, who investigated the Tungud movement from Compostela in Davao immediately notices the changes in the lives of the Manobos and Mandayas. Lack of food was severe, since no one planted anything from the time the movement started. The people relied on root crops like camote and gabi. They lived in terror at all times, especially at night. But the best thing that happened was the cessation of quarrels and animosities. In the past, no Mangguwangan would visit Compostela but now they even did their worship there. Some even reached the remote places of the Mandayas who otherwise were their trasiditional enemies. The Dibabawons from Salug and Lubuganon could, without fear, freely travel to Karaga, Kasauman and Manay and return unscatched. This was because God or Magbabaya allegedly forbade enmity and revenge.
Unknown to the people, explained Garvan, religious rites were performed with deceit. The Punoan supposedly spoke to the Magbabaya, but in truth, one of his assistants would make his presence felt in different voices which the punoan alone could understand. Aside from the regular contributions, which included cherished spears, bows and arrows and bolos, commercialization attended the rites. One could become a punoan or taytayan for a fee of P30.00. Images and symbols were also on sale, or kerchiefs and what nots advertized as some form of cure-all for illness and other things.
The movement began to dissipate in December 1910. Nothing came of the supposed meltdown of the earth which had been postponed several times. The deceptions of the punoans and their taytayans were also exposed. Hunger stalked the land; nothing more could be spared for contributions, and it seemed that earlier forewarnings by the non-believing Bisayans had at last hit the mark. The frustrations of the people gradually turned into intense anger. Later, the Mandayas sent word that they were going to attack the Agusan people; the Manobos would raid the Dibabawon, and the Mangguwangan would terrorize the MAndayas in Tagum. The incidents never happen. What prevented the reign of terror was the existence of a government at the head portion of Agusan River, Garvan thought.
For Garvan, the Tungud movement was a movement of deceit and nothing more. However, Fay Cooper-Cole, who was then undertaking research with the Mandaya reached near Mati, saw another angle. According to him, the movement reached the Mayo Bay area, but it hardly had any effect at all. It was the Moro dwellers in the place who saw an opportunity to propagate their plan to expel the American planters there, including the Christians. They were in an angry mood and rather restive then. They invited the Mandaya leader to the house of Moro Pandita supposedly where the diwata would make an appearance. And so the following night, the diwata appeared in a dark room and exhorted the people to rise up in arms and annihilate the Christians in the place. A mixture of awe and confusion settled on the Mandayas who said that they were in fact ready to join the Moros. However, they were discovered by an American planter. Unknown to the Mandayas, Cole explained, the spirit was actually the son of the Pandita who appeared with his head and chest wrapped with white gauze draped with fireflies. Indeed, it was an awesome apparition in the dark. As soon as he would enter the room, the house would suddenly shake. Another brother did the shaking.
The official report of Lieut. Allen Walker, who took over from Governor Bolton, contained more details. He reported to General Bliss, Governor of the Moro Province, that in June 1908, 37 Moros were arrested by the PC in MAti due to alleged participation in the dances of Lavi, and that it was Datu Silatan and Pandita LAtibao who had induced them. The two Moros were to have told the people that they were serving the real god who would help them kill their enemies and who would help them plant and harvest without having to work. What they reported as their true god was actually a little child who was made to wear a transparent dress. fastened at the neck and waist to keep fireflies flying around inside. The god would make an appearance during moonless nights. The Moros and Mandayas in Mati were encourage to dance and chant the child’s name and kill the officials of the government. The 37 people mentioned earlier were part of the 44 who were said to have sworn to kill the municipal officials of Mati and other American planters.
The dance initiated by Compao and Tomaras was very similar to the dance of Lavi associated with the names of Datu Silatan and Pandita Latibao. The same is true of their aim to expel or annihilate the Americans and the Christians of the place. There was also the characteristic inducement of the inducement of the indigenous people from different tribes to join with them. But there was no concrete evidence that could connect the two Moro groups. Perhaps we have yet to discover such a relationship. But it must be noted that Sumlug and Mati are not far apart, and neither are the dates of the two stories. Cole added that the Tungud movement reached the border of Davao and Bukidnon. At this time, it was said, Governor Lewis happened to be urging the natives to build new communities over those which were recently abandoned. That was when he realized that this was part of a big movement.
Why did we consider the Tungud as an example of the Lumad’s resistance against the Americans and their local agents? Because this was not the first such incident in Mindanao. It will be recalled that in a letter from Baganga by Pablo Pastells, S.J., to his superiors on May 2, 1877, he mentioned a reaction from populace toward his efforts to build a reduccion among the Mandaya. The people told of an old woman who descended from heaven, and who exhorted them to return to the mountains after destroying their kaingin and killing their livestock. In the forest they could live without having to eat for a year, they were told, and they would all ascend to heaven together, body and soul. And if they would not obey her commandment, she would send soldiers in a sea vessel to Davao, and another one to Surigao, who would cut their heads off and take their children to Manila, there to be made into slaves for the Sultan of Jolo. Because of this, Pastells said, most of the Mandayas (in the reduccion) went back to the forests.
The Subanon Uprising in Zamboanga, 1909-1914
Elarth was Deputy Governor of Zamboanga and before long, within about a month, he had visited the tribes there, one after the other. He completed this in three weeks. But now he sensed something strange about the people; they seemed to be in a fighting mood. He notices that as the dialogue continued, the warriors became more restless, and he could hear shouts. Noting this, he conveyed to the Timuays that, under the circumstances, it was difficult to continue with the conference and that it would be best if the warriors positioned themselves some distance way. The four Timuays briefly convened themselves some distance away. The four Timuays briefly convened and then ordered the men to move back, and they obeyed.
Leading fifteen constables, Lieut. Elarth then conducted a conference among the Timuays (chieftains ) of the Subanons in the mountains of Malindang, inland from Dipolog Bay. This was supposed to be a peace conference between two big feuding Subanon groups. But the tension was great. A thousand men were present and they did not like the government’s intervention. The constabulary were positioned on a hill, in rally formation, firearms fully charged and with fixed bayonets. The soldiers, however, seemed relaxed. Some were conversing among themselves, other were smoking their cigarettes. One step away stood Elarth, in front of whom the Timuays were seated. Here they held their conference. They were all surrounded by one thousand men armed with bows and arrows, spears and bolos. Corporal Mira Leon whispered to Elarth: “Muy peligroso, mi Capitan”. (It is very dangerous, my Captain).
Elarth felt a little relieved but all so suddenly, a tall Moro warrior screamed: “Don’t, don’t! Stop, you fools!” At the same time, he rushed to the attack, wielding his kampilan in the direction of Elarth. With two of his comrades following, he screamed again: “Kill him!” Elarth fired. Three times. Three dead Moros fell at his feet. Spears flew from the tribal warriors, and they started to assault. The sky darkened with spears. Five soldiers were killed, falling even before they could fire their guns. One more was pulled out from formation and was hacked to pieces. The remaining ten riflemen fired without ceasing. Elarth was saves when a certain Sergeant Bernardo Ames sheilded him with his own body against a lance flying towards the officer. Then the warriors suddenly stopped and ran away, leaving behind their 68 dead. After quick assessment soon after the engagement, the soldiers discovered that only 60 shots had been fired by them and they were already out of ammunition!
A few weeks later, some of the fugitive warriors were captured by the constabulary and, when asked why they ran in retreat, they replied that the incessant firepower shocked them; they could not stand it. It took another five years of hot pursuit before the remaining rebels surrended. Of the four Timuays present in the conference, only one remained. He surrendered together with his men at Margosatubig on October 14, 1914. They numbered 5,000 at the inception of the rebellion. In the end, only Timuay Romualdo was left and 75 of his followers. The fact about the exhausted ammunition was never revealed to them.
The investigation further disclosed that the uprising was instigated by certain Moro datus from Lake Lanao and assisted by Christian and non-Christian bandits from Misamis. News spread that two Misamis folk predicted the earth’s destruction by fire and water. They urged the Subanons to gather at Mt. Boburan from which they would ascend to heaven. Thousands responded to the call. At Boburan, the Moro leaders assumed defense positions. Around 175 houses were built. The warriors were armed with lances, kris and kampilan. There were no firearms.
The Langkat Rebellion in Cotabato, 1926-1927
Manobos of the present province of Cotabato were the ones involved in this rebellion and this is the only story that has an indigenous version from the people themselves. In 1926-1927, according to the Americans, Datu Mampurok, a Manobo, led an uprising in Cotabato which consisted of Manobo warriors, Tirurays, and Magindanaos. From the upstream region of the Pulangi River, it spread to Awang and Upi, the traditional territory of the Tirurays. There was a fundamental difference in the viewpoints of the colonialists and the Manobo. We shall look at both. First, the Manobo version.
The barrion of Palakat was officially established by a certain William Manyon in 1920. This formed part of Banisilan of Carmen municipality. Today, it has become a barrio of Pikit, another municipality of Cotabato. Manyon was a District Supervisor of the Banisilan school, and when he created Palakat he also built the school at the same time. All the children of age, including the 20-year olds, were obliged to enroll, starting from first grade.
Manyon appointed the barrio leaders, all Manobo. He did the same in Palakat which was a Manobo barrio. One of the headmen was the son of Datu Sapalaw, a Kerentekan, known by the name of Mampurok, some forty years of age. Some of the barrio leaders reported to Manyon that several children of Mampurok’s barrio were not attending classes. Manyon promptly sent the police who apprehended Mampurok and brought him to Banisilan. When asked to explain why the children were not in school, Mampurok replied that the children were afraid to go to school. Manyon gave him a dressing down, stressing that the children must go to school, or else, he, Mampurok, and the parents of the children would be jailed. Mampurok relayed the ultimatum of Manyon to the parents. As a result of this, the young men went into hiding in the forests. Only the children were left to attend school. But everybody knew those who were in hiding, and their hiding places, too. These were not far away and they always came home by stealth for their secret meals.
Himself afraid of imprisonment, Mampurok also fled into the forest with his family. Two of his children were supposed to be in school. His two sisters and their respective families, whose six children were all of school age, also joined them. They went to Mt. Kitubod. While there, Mampurok started to become a patutulus, someone who believed that he was a chosen one. This eventually spread among the people who consequently began to visit him. Before long, he became famous as leader of Langkat.
Among those who received the tidings were his relatives in Palakat, Barongis and Balogo. He was then already residing in Bintangan and his kin, young and old, went there. The one who narrated this tale, Demetrio Bangkas was among them. There they discovered that Mampurok indeed displayed strange behaviour. He would not eat for several days, yet, he remained healthy. He sang their stories in Ulahingan fashion and he never tired no matter long. The stories all told of their lives and exploits in the forests, where they had no dwellings, hardly any food clothing. Whenever the spirit entered him his body would smolder and turn red. (Bangkas said he never saw this; he just heard about it).
Like Mampurok, the people felt that the government was cruel. Besides forcing them to send their children to school, the parents were also put in prison. They were further compelled to pay the imposed by the government, and the hated schools. When they became members, they, too, were possessed by the diwata, although they chanted their stories, epic style, in their own language. They translated their stories from the Ulahingan Language into their own togue in a manner that situated their tune and cultural tradition. The other Muslims who decided to join diverted from the precepts of Mampurok. They raided and fired at the cattle in Manyon’s ranch, they cut the telephone line between Pikit and Banisilan, and they robebd and killed the people. As these happenings reached the knowledge of the government, Bisayan soldiers, disguised in Muslim attire, were immediately sent to infiltrate the group. The government suspected it was Mampurok who was leading the Muslims. Mampurok’s group knew the newcomers were soldiers but welcomed them as members. They were merely asked to give a bottle of coconut oil and a tubao for Mampurok and these were readily given. The Manobos and the Muslims were delighted; they interpreted the soldiers’ gesture as a sign for the joining of many more. When, not long afterm the soldiers returned to Pikit, they placed landmarks rn route to the place of Mampurok.
At this time, there were more Muslims than Manobos and Mampurok could not control them anynmore. It was they who benefited from the little harvest of the remaining Manobos in their kaingin. This was why the Muslim datus of Pikit felt pity for Mampurok and the Manobos. They advised Mampurok to return to his former abode and do what the government wished. This was also what the PC officer in Pikit wanted to happen because there were already many incidents seeded in the name of Mampurok. A reward was posted for anybody who could induce Mampurok to go back to normal life. The muslims datu of Midsayap sent word to Mampurok for the latter to return to his former place. Mampurok did not listen. The Muslim cheiftain of Balogo also sent the same message. Mampurok refused. He was waiting for a message from the supreme diwata.
The soldiers tasked to finished off Mampurok finally arrived. gunfire started bursting. Mampurok was hit on the breast and on his two legs. Many Muslims were killed. Many drowned while crossing the river to escape the carnage. All the people in Bintangan left. Members of Mampurok’s family who survived were brought to Balogo, there to be taken care of by the Muslim datu. The latter was apprehensive that these people might be attacked by the relatives of the Muslims who were killed in Bintangan. The Langkat disintegrated. But they continued, Manobo and Muslim, in their Langkat worship, even in the hideouts. Inevitably, they had to obey the wishes of the government: attend classes, pay their sedula. The walian returned to their walian activities, but the dance disappeared from their rituals; only the song remained.
We accept the government version of the story from the book of Elarth. But we shall not repeat the details, only the points that support their particular viewpoint. Take note that they always refer to the “Alangkat tribe of the Manobo.” And it was supposedly because Mampurok referred to himself as god that thousands of “hill people” rallied to him. There were “pilgrimages from distant parts of Mindanao” which came to pay homage to him. Also, Colonel Stevens and Major Gutierrez, the governor of Cotabato, came to talk to him, courtesies which Mampurok reportedly established his own government, formed his own army, and started to collect taxes that the constabulary was compelled to enter the scene. MAmpurok and thirty of his men were slain on March 23, 1927. Some firearms and more than a thousand bladed weapons were confiscated. In another source, it was reportedly that the Muslims believed that their revered Datu Ali, who led the struggle against the Americans in the first decade of the latter’s occupation, came back in the person of Mampurok.
Bagobo Response to the Entry of the Japanese in Davao, 1916-1935
Before the Second World War broke out, abaca was already known in the international trading world, among big shipping companies, and others, as “Manila Hemp.” Abaca was a product of two regions in the Philippines, the Bicol area and Davao. It was the Japanese planters who made Davao famous as abaca country. The Japanese came to Davao as early as 1905. The first group consisted of workers who helped in the construction of Kennon Road to Baguio, the famous zigzag trek to the country’s summer capital. From 340 people in 1905, the Japanese who settled in Davao grew to 17,888 in 1939.
Of the overall list of abaca plantations in Davao in 1918, which totalled 164, sixty-nine were Japanese, thirty-seven were American, forty-two were Filipino and sixteen were of other nationalities. The combined total of more than 50 thousand hectares, occuoied by all the Japanese plantations, constitued fifty-seven percent of the total in Davao. Twenty of these Japanese plantations were in the central portion of Davao, which were Bagobo lands. This does not mean that only the Japanese entered into the territories of the Bagobo. There were also Americans and Filipinos, except that now we have more data about Bagobo response to the Japanese planters than to any other.
In 1910, just five years after the arrival of the first batch of Japanese, the opposition of the Bagobo was already evident. For example, five Bagobo chieftains formally lodged their opposition to the program of the Mindanao Development Company to expand the landownership of a certain Saburo Akamine. According to them, they had long been owners of the lands being claimed by the company. In fact, they said, more than one-third of the lands were occupied by the Bagobos. They were forcibly ejected by a combined contingent of Japanese nationals, government officials, and Philippine Constabulary troops. The first confrontation resulted in the drawing of a gun by Furukawa, one of the most influential Japanese in Davao at that time. After this, the PC and the inspectors from the Bureau of Public Lands entered into the scene, until finally the case reached the office of Governor Causing of Davao. The Governor persuaded Angalan, one of the datus Furukawa threatened with his gun, to sing an agreement. Much against his will, Angalan signed.
To those who understood the Bagobo custom of land ownership and the land laws of the government, the agreement was both a joke and a mockery. Angalan was supposedly allowed by Saburo Akamine to retain the ownership of 24 hectares withing the lands leased to the Mindanao Development Company. Angalan would also allow the company to plant abaca in his land. He also agreed thay neither he of anybody else would build a store within his land. Lastly, it was agreed that the company would not claim ownership of Angalan’s 24 hectares.
Angalan’s case was one of many. The Japanese employed various methods in possessing Bagobo lands. On the part of the Bagobo, the loss of their land was the most compelling reason for their opposition to the Japanese. It is important to understand how a Bagobo felt at that time. In 1930, a datu remarked that they used to be wealthy. They had cattle and horses. They had lands which gave them food and clothing. But now they were impoverished. Foreigners had encroached into their land; they were brought to court for them to prove their ownership; and then the lawyers collected their animals for fees. It was much better during the period of the American governors as they could still ride on horses. Now , they lamented, they had to walk in order to reach Davao.
The laws did not respect the Bagobo’s communal ownership of lands, and the Japanese normally employed lawyers the lands of their abaca plantations. Fruit trees that naturally grew on Bagobo lands, like Durian, lansones, betel, coconut, abaca, and others were never respected by the foreigners as landmarks of the indigenous people’s ownership. And so, when the small pox and influenza epidemics occured in 1917 and 1918, respectively, at the Guianga district, many Bagobos left and transferred to other places. These mass migrations were exploited by the foreigners to possess large tracts of land. Events like these which in Bagobo custom were cause for war, intensified thier anger.
The foreigners had no inkling of the intensity of the anger that boiled in the Bagobo’s breast on account of the inordinate felling of trees such as lansones, durian, and others. Between 1918 and 1938, around 600 Japanese were slain by the Bagobos. These killings followed a periodic pattern. In times when the Japanese agressively needed more lands for their abaca, many were killed. But during production lags, the killing subsided. The first boom in abaca production in Davao was 1918-1921. Some 100 Japanese were slain then. The next boom occured in 1928-1930 and in 1935-35. The first boom, coincided with the occurence of the small pox and influenz epidemics, which contributed to accelerating the landgrabbing activities of the foreigners. But there was a cultural dimension tothe explanation given to this situation. For among the trees felled by the Japanese were the big trees believed by the Bagobos to be the abode of spirits. The epidamic for them was a manifestation of the spirits’ wrath, and this was reason for them to act to appease the spirits.
The Bagobos relied on the fruits of the forest. When the plantations expanded, the felling of forest trees became uncontrollable. Several springs dried up; forest animals varnished; and the lansones, durian, betel and other fruits likewise disappeared. And so they retaliated against the Japanese who were destroying their sources of livelihood before their eyes. The Japanese lodged a diplomatic protest on account of the many killings. The government responded by ordering the PC to confiscate the weapons of the Bagobos: firearms (shotguns) which they used for hunting (if they were allowed to keep these, they were prohibited from buying ammunition); lances and other bladed weapons, including their decorative knives. Only those items which barely had functional value were allowed to be retained.
Still, the killing of the Japanese continued. It stopped only when the expansion of the plantations also ceased. Here was what a bagobo representative expressed in 1935 about their slaying of the Japanese nationals:
I wish to narrate to you how the Japanese came into our lands. In 1917 (sic), many Japanese were slain in our place. I can not remember how many killers were arrested by the government because it was hard to identify the culprits. When the situation worsened, Director Guingona came to our place, together with Deputy Governor de la Pena and officers of the Cosntabulary and we were disarmed. They took away our shotguns, bolos, lances, and Kampilan, including our tubaws. After we were disarmed, they came back and told us that we should not kill the Japanese. Instead, we were told as that we should be allowed to build their stores and to live peacefully in our midst. The Deputy Governor also warned us thay if we did nor stop slaughtering the Japanese, the government would burn our village. This was the reason we decided not to disturb them anymore.
We still have to ask why we included this phenomenon of the Bagobo’s reaction to the planting of abaca by the Japanese in the category of resistance. A straight answer is the we were sill on the period of American colonialism and it so happened that the Japanese were actual intruders. It was the Americans who established the Moro Province of which Davao was part and where the organization of the Tribal Ward was also implemented. They were the ones who permitted the Japanese and other nationalities to open plantation in Davao. They were the ones who enacted land laws which were the weapons of the foreigners to easily obtain the ancestral lands of the Bagobos. They owned the Philippine Constabulary that ran after the “violators” of the law, among the more celebrated of which were the Bagobo assassins of Japanese landgrabbers. The slaughter of the Japanese was a direct defiance of the colonialists’ law. The Bagobos may not have been conscious of this detail, but it was clear to them that the presence of the Japanese destroyed their life. And they merely acted according to their level of awareness.
Some Preliminary Analysis
There is no denying the fact that the uprisings launched by the Lumad were insignificant, even the supposedly major ones. They were pinches, so to speak. And this need not be debated upon. When we speak of smallness, it is only because, in comparison, there were big ones that occurred. And when we speak of pinches, it is because something happened that constituted a blow or even more. There is no need to split hairs over this, the supposed “smallness” of the Lumad resistance against colonialism calls for an explanation.
What was their experience in confronting their adversaries? Those they considered as enemies need not to be another tribe. They could be tribal compatriots but from another community. It was customary for the Lumad to have a bagani (magani to the Bagobos, lebe to the B’laan), tribal warriors whose manhood was measured in terms of the number of people he had slain. But these warriors were accustomed mainly to single, man-to-man combat, because big battles were rare. And it was not necessary that the adversary be defeated of killed frontally. Fatal blows could be executed treacherously from behind. Ot ir could be done by poisoning. What was important was that he could bring to the village the evidence of his victory, like the head or a lock of hair.
We must note the conformance of the level of livelihood to the social organization and to the level of experience in their manner of dealing with the enemies. And if we juxtapose these to the size, great or small, of their resistance to the Americans, then immediately we can see the appropriateness to the latter. In short, the resistance and struggle displayed by the Lumads adequately suited their internal and external capacities. Here lies the shininh jewel, the greatness of their struggle.
Worldview, Community and Lumad Poetics
Take note. Ehhrm. (Pause) Here we are gathered to talk about Philippine poetics, and my topic is about Lumad poetics. What/ will do is present some Lumad story-telling conventions, some myths and legends, and some new Lumad literary productions in order to show the relationship between literature, worldview and community. Finally, I will present the ethnokinship theory of literature and explore its implications to Philippine national literature.
You have probably noticed that I have just used a Lumad literary convention. This particular verbal convention comes from the Arumanen Manobos of North Cotabato. To catch the attention of listeners, the storyteller always opens with an obligatory “Hane” (Take note), followed by throat clearing and a pause.
Compare the Manobo verbal opening convention with modem storytelling convention. As we do not have the luxury of face-to-face storytelling, and we must compete for the attention of the literary editor, we have to do a lot textual acrobatics in our very first paragraph. Otherwise, our work will be thrown into the waste basket.
Another verbal convention involves the introduction to the setting of each scene. If the action occurs near, the phrase to use is “Here we are.” If far, the phrase to use is “There we are.” Here we are, talking about Lumad poetics.
The rest of the introductory paragraph above is pure Jesuit. It is Jesuit pedagogical convention for the speaker or writer to tell the audience what he is going to tell them, then he tells them, then he tells them that he has just told them.
But to go back to our topic. Because of the vast body of unrecorded Lumad oral literature, Dr. E. Arsenio Manuel’ had long ago advised folklore researchers to go on a collecting and archiving mission to preserve folkloristic materials, which include folk literature. Famous anthropologist H. Otley Beyer’ had made a similar suggestion. Fay-Cooper Cole who made ethnographic studies of Davao and Bukidnon tribes in the 1910s pioneered attempts to reconstruct past society and culture thru folklore, which involved a lot of literary materials. Dean Fansler who collected folktales from Christianized areas was interested in speculating about the origins of the tales and how they are diffused.
Indeed, apart from the verbal conventions, the study of folk literature of which Lumad literature is a part, can yield many other interesting information useful to sociologists, anthropologists, ethnographers, psychologists, historians and many others. Current interests, at least in our school, focus on the values embedded in Lumad poetics for use in values education.
Other interests seek to discover Lumad spirituality, or even systems of governance. Others yet again only seek inspiration from the oral narratives for story materials in theatre productions, including copying of music, chanting patterns, dance steps and costumes.
It is therefore appropriate to ask: Why does Lumad literature allow for such diverse approaches and provide fruitful results in various disciplines?
Folklorists will tell us that Lumad literature has several functions. It is entertainment; it is an educational and instructional tool; it serves to justify rituals and institutions; and it guides the members of the community to follow certain patterns of behavior.
In effect, take note. Ehhrm. (Pause.) Lumad literature embodies the Lumad’s worldview, and as such it is the very record of the life of the community, both its past and its present.
Let us recount a Lumad creation myth.
“When the world first began there were one man and one woman and they lived on Mt. Apo near Sibulan. The man was Tuglay and the woman Tuglibong The place had many fruits; the forest was filled with game, so it was easy for them to get food. After a while, they had many children, both boys and girls who, when they grew up, married.
“One day, Tuglay and Tuglibong told their oldest boy and girl to go far away across the ocean, for there was a good place for them. So the two left and were riot seen again. Later their descendants, the white people, would come back to Davao.
“When Tuglay and Tuglibong died, they went to the sky where they became spirits. Shortly after their death the country suffered a great drought. No rain fell for three years, so that there was no food in the land. The people said: ‘Manama is angry and is punishing us. We must go to a new place where there is food or we shall die’
“Two started on the way toward the sunset, carrying stones with them from the Sibulan river. They settled in a good land where there were water, plants, pigs and deer. Since then they have become Maguindanaos because of the stones which they carried with them when they left Sibulan.”
Let us quicken the story now, to use another convention…
“One pair brought a basket—biraan–and so the children are now called Blaans. Another pair brought a doll, and the children are now the Atas. The other pairs went in other directions. Finally, only one pair remained at Sibulan. They wanted to go away, but were so weak from hunger and thirst that they could not walk far. One day, the man crawled out onto the fields and saw a single stalk of tubo – sugar cane. He cut a piece and water began to flow so the couple finally had a drink. Because of this they called the place Bagobo (Bagong tubo) and the people have since borne that name.”
What do we have here? First I draw your attention to the fact that Tuglay and Tuglibong who were the ancestors of all human beings, but particularly of the Bagobos, became spirits, thus establishing the kinship between the said tribe and the spirit world. Another point is the abode of the ancestors, Mt. Apo, and the home of the tribe itself, Sibulan.
To us these are trivial literary matters, but to the Bagobos these constitute sacred literature that affirms their worldview and establishes their claim to their homeland. Anthropologists and other social scientists would probably be able to trace the origin of the Bagobos prior to reaching Davao. That would be interesting, but what is more important is that they have staked a claim on Mt. Apo and Sibulan. By naming these places, they came to own them. These places that didn’t have a meaning before acquired a meaning and entered Bagobo history.
The land, the spirits, the people and their worldview define and create the community. You cannot imagine the Bagobos without Mt. Apo, Sibulan and Tuglay and Tuglibong and Manama.
When the Spanish Jesuit missionaries encountered the Bagobos in the late 1860s, they were able to record an eight-level genealogy among these people. In 1911 American ethnographer Fay-Cooper Cole found that both the young and the old still knew Saling-olop who begat Bato who begat Boas who begat Basian who begat Lumbay who begat Banga who begat Panguilan who begat Manib who begat Tungkaling. Manib was contemporaneous with Jose Oyanguren who conquered Davao Gulf in 1848, while Tungkaling lived during the American colonial period.
Indeed, a teal community can and should trace its origins all the way back to its very first ancestors. It is what binds them together. The past continues to live and is continually relived. Storytelling in verse or in prose, whether chanted or narrated recreates and reaffirms this link. We will find many ,examples of origin myths and legends that mark out the parameters that define the community, drawn from a common worldview. Lumad poetics then not only performs a constitutive function, creating meaning and reality; but its retellling also recreates the meaning, and reestablishes and reaffirms a real sense of community.
Observe how this operates among the other Lumads in the simple act of naming places.
Places are usually named after certain landmarks, or they could be named to commemorate events or to memorialize an ancestor or hero or deity.
Mamacaw is a tree and is the name of several barangays located in Davao del Sur and Davao del Norte. Kadaatan refers to a place where there are many daats or the triangular-stem grass. Here is an example of a place named to commemorate an event:
“Once upon a time, there was a male giant named Agasi who terrorized the Arakan Manobos. He cooked his captives in a big kawa (wok). One day, Apo Agio one of the greatest Manobo ancestors, fought and killed Agasi by piercing him with a poisoned spear. This made Agasi stomp and dance in terrible pain. The earth shook as he fell to the ground. The place on which he danced is now called Sinayawan. One of his feet landed in Nassut (which means foot), and his palms fell in Mahapalad.”
Hane. Ehhrm. (Pause.) His penis and his balls fell in… guess where?
Among the Dulangan Manobos, there’s a barangay named Lagubang derived from the oldest resident of the area, while a nearby sitio bears the name of his wife, Kapatagan. Barangay Midpanga was named in honor of a certain datu who went hunting in the forest one morning and never returned. His family and relatives searched for him and found him dead under a big tree. Since then they have called the place Midpanga. Among the Blaans in South Cotabato, they have a sitio named Mali named after a creek called Malo which means diwata (or guardian spirit). They say the creek is like the diwata who is sometimes there and sometimes not there. The creek has water flowing in some portions, but has no water in other portions. But eventually the water emerges and empties into the Silway River.”
Another motif in place name legends is death by drowning of an important person in the community. The Tran River was named after Datu Tran of the Teduray”, and the Kulaman River was named after Datu Kulaman of the Dulangans.” These rivers are located in the province of Sultan Kudarat, itself named after a fierce Maguindanao sultan.
All of these legends have the function of making things around the community familiar to the members. They are in intimate relation with their surroundings. The land, the caves, the mountains, the rivers, the creeks, the forests — they belong to the community. The act of naming is an act of appropriation, an act of community ownership.
It is not only in the land that the naming occurs. Even the sky is “owned” by the community. We are familiar with the Greek zodiac signs and such legends as Castor and his twin Polydeuces17 forming Gemini. What are these but attempts to make sense of the cosmos by making the heavenly bodies familiar to the Greeks. Among the Bagobos, they will point out the Balatik, which is shaped like a trap in the sky. When it appears at a certain angle, it signals the planting season.” Among the Atas, there Is Dawa, a cluster of stars as plentiful as millet.19 The Tedurays will point out three bright stars that make up Seretar, the hunter, and two smaller ones nearby making up the jaw of a pig that Seretar had killed. There is another bright star identified as Fegeferafad, a man known as a brave defender of his family’s honor. With him are his three cousins.’ Lumad poetics then is an act of communitization whereby what is strange or alien becomes familiar to the community.” The earth, the sky, the water, the forest, the people, their ancestors, their heroes and the spirits all have a place in the community worldview and are understood intimately. All these establish, foster and strengthen distinct ethnokinship ties. By ethnokinship I mean the organization of people according to certain ethnic identifiers such as race, ancestry, language, traditions, beliefs, customs, rituals, practices and history. The more elements of identity people have in common, the stronger their bond and attachment to each other. The family, clan, tribe and nation constitute the levels of ethnokinship communities.
Hane. Ehhrm. (Pause). In an ethnokinship community there is no gap between storyteller and listeners because the storyteller draws his or her vocabulary, imagery, symbols, and themes from a worldview shared by the entire community. Or to borrow from Saussure,23 the storyteller and the listeners possess a common langue, so that the storyteller’s parole or individual utterance is immediately grasped by the listeners.
The act of imagining is always a community act and has a recognizable community stamp or brand. This is what makes a specific Lumad poetics unique, helping define the identity of the community, as reinforced by rituals and other cultural and traditional practices.
But it should not be understood that Lumad poetics is fixed nor static. New materials are being created as the community members encounter new experiences and integrate them into their common langue. Most members can do extemporaneous compositions. A welcome chant created on the spot will greet visitors. They may use traditional forms, but the content will be new. New stories and their variants are created as new heroes are born, sometimes shared only in secret among themselves.
One such case involves the exploits of Mangunlayon, the Tagacaolo tribal ward assistant leader. He assassinated the first American politico-military governor of Davao District, Lt. Edward C. Bolton, in 1906 in the Malalag area, Davao del Sur. This was at the height of the Lumad unrest caused by the entry of American settlers who set up plantations in Davao in the early years of American occupation. While some Lumads can already talk about it, those closely associated with the assassination are not so open. The reason us that the Americans are still present — that is, their descendants still own some of the plantations in the area. As American hegemony prevailed in the entire country. Mangunlayon became villain instead of hero, and was lost in obscurity instead of becoming famous. However, underground heroic legends about Mangunlayon circulated among the Lumads of Davao del Sur.
As we all know, the Lumads today have been effectively minoritized, marginalized and excluded in mainstream Philippine society. Oftentimes, they are caught in the crossfire between government and insurgent forces, and there are reports of genocide perpetrated against them. It is the sad end of a once proud people who resisted foreign subjugation, only to find themselves subordinated in the present political set-up. In Lumad conferences therefore, we will usually hear Lumads lamenting their fate. The more politicized will speak with angry voices as they recall a bygone era when the community was whole and supreme in their own land.
If they say that Lumad literature is a record of community life itself, will we find this new situation of the Lumads reflected in their new artistic creations?
In 1989, the Development Education Media Services where I was executive director produced a song tape album if authentic Mandaya songs and music as part of our program to preserve Lumad culture. The four Mandaya artists, which included an old baylan (priestess), had a free hand in choosing their repertoire. What came out was a revelation, since it was the first time I noticed the theme of community lament in Lumad literary creation.
As you may be aware, an important aspect in the scholarly study of folk literature is establishing traditionally of folk materials by subjecting them to the so-called vertical and horizontal tests. Traditional means old, to put it simply. The vertical test or the three-generation test seeks to know if the informant has learned the material from his or her grandparent(s), as the very least. The further the genelogical line that is can be traced to, the better. The horizontal test meanwhile seeks to find several versions of the same tale, which would also attest its age. However, in the album production, the Mandaya artists chanted many materials that show their present plight as marginalized people. The theme of lament comes out very strongly. The baylan chants: “… Our situation as natives/ As Mandaya / We were all so soon forgotten / O we have become outcasts / Because of the evil ones / The rapacious exploiters / They told us / You will not improve / You will not progress / Just give them (arts/designs) to us / Give us your gold / Give us your most precious things.”
Another Mandaya chanter laments: “All our lands are gone / O, gone is out pristine world / O, caused by strangers / Those foreigners.”
The significance of the chants is that it affirms the view that literature is a community record, the community’s past and present life. Literature is ethnokinship worldview and record. While the traditionality of materials may be very important, and in fact it is being used as evidence for establishing ancestral domain claims of the Lumads, that should not make new Lumad literary productions less important, for these are the continuations of their life as a community.
Using Aristotelian mimetic, we can say that the object of imitation in these new literary outputs is the community’s lament of the loss of their land, and the threat of disappearance of their worldview and ultimately of their identity as a culture and as a people. This is not an imitation of an individual ‘s lament alone, but an imitation of the lament of the entire community.
Later I would also find echoes of the same theme among the Tbolis of South Cotabato. According to the legend, Lake Sebu was owned by Boi Henwu. When the goddess ascended to the sky, she decreed that only the Tbolis would be the stewards of the lake. But today, we hear this lament from The Dream Weavers-. “This lake of Sebu/ Other people claim it/ Other people lord over it/ The Thai have no place to go/ The outsiders have prevailed/ They rule over the Tboli/ Do you understand my song?/ There is nothing you can do/ We have lost everything that we had/ They are the only ones who benefit…”
It is lamentable indeed that the community of the Lumads is being threatened. It is not the scope of this paper to discuss the reasons for this, except to observe that the world of the Lumads is shrinking, and could be lost in another generation or so. While we, who belong to the majority have our own Bohol province, Tagalog region or Ilocano region that ensures our survival as a community, the Bagobos, the Tbolis, the Subanons, have no such secure home bases because of massive intrusions by foreigners.
With the subordination of their community to the majority community, their culture and worldview are also being subordinated to the majority culture and worldview. This situation has the effect of a double alienation. They are alienated from their own world, and they are alienated from the majority world. Hence the lament. Hence the anger. The theme of heroism of past heroic legends and epics has been replaced by the theme of despair. To be sure, some of the Lumads are not taking this passively and have began to assert themselves. Some have even launched occasional paggaws or wars to defend their land, but this is subject of another paper.29What interests us here for the moment is their literature and its place in their community.
Based on the discussion above, I now present the general features of the ethnokinship theory of literature. This theory advances the view that literature serves the entire community. The myths, epics, legends and other artistic creations are community acts of imagining and appropriating. They are entertainment, instruction, justifier of rituals, both sacred and secular history, social guide and control. That is, literature is the community worldview that unifies the community and strengthens community identity and loyalty. All aesthetic expressions are community-based and are therefore familiar and understood by the entire community. Literature seeks to build and rebuild community.
Now while we are witness to the marginalization and minoritization of Lumad culture and worldview, and even the possible extermination of the Lumads as a people, how do we, as the majority, fare? We have survived physically as a people, but how about our literature and worldview as a community?
First, an observation. After 100 years of existence as a country, we still talk of nation-building or forging a national identity as a task not only of literature, but also of the other arts and other cultural and political institutions. My theory as to why it is taking us so long to have a so-called national identity is that we are composed of many different communities, or ethnokinship identities. In effect, we are many nations, some big, some very small. These vertical ethnokinship splits practically make it impossible to create a single national identity.
Apart from the multiethnokinship character of the majority, we will find that our worldview is truncated as an effect of conquest and subjugation, so that the worldviews of our conquerors had been grafted into our very thought processes. Three hundred years in a Spanish convent, 50 years in Hollywood — this is the colorful description of our condition. As we all know, grafting is good practice in agriculture, but in social engineering this results in a monstrosity — the bifurcation not only of. personality but also of community. We have an educated elite heavily influenced by the conqueror’s worldviews and languages, and the vast masa with their own worldviews and languages. These horizontal splits within communities complete the fragmentation of the national community, which incidentally, makes us easy prey to other more powerful ethnokinship systems.
As a complex society with many communities, we will necessarily find many literatures in our country. Instead of reflecting the worldview of a single community, our fragmented literatures present many competing worldviews and loyalties. Within the context of Philippine society, literature has become a site of struggle because the processes of political and cultural integration and assimilation are also being resisted by counter processes of ethnokinship, as well as class, assertion. Instead of being a site of unity to fight external battles, literature has become a site of internal struggles. We are a national community continually at war with itself, which translate, at the political level, into a weak, unstable state.
This condition also afflicts many former colonies all over the world, offering many interesting challenges for poets and storytellers, nationalists or otherwise. Let us mention the responses of some of the better-known African writers.
Nigeria, like most former colonial countries, is composed of many nations which were forcibly brought together under one colonial rule, in their case, by the British. Since it became independent in 1963, it has experienced at least two secessionist attempts. The secessionist Biafran Republic was crushed in a brutal two-year civil war. Apart from this problem of multiethnic composition, there is also the question of an English-speaking elite. Within this context, Chinua Achebe, an Ibo acclaimed for his novel Things Fall Apart, asks: “Can a writer ever begin to know who his community is, let alone devise strategies for relating to it?”” Achebe has always problematized his use of the English language, but ends up justifying its use because of the “unassailable logic of its convenience.” But in his works he attempts to construct a new English by imitating the speech patterns of the Ibo community.
Wole Soyinka, the first African Nobel Laureate does not concern himself with the language issue. Writing in English, he worries more about how the African world can be understood in terms of African cultural concepts and categories. He does this by making “mythic or ritual concepts” relevant to modern Africa. For example, he identifies the Yoruba deity Ogun, god of iron and war, with electricity, thus combining Western culture with African traditions.
Meanwhile, Ngugi wa Thiongo of Kenya makes clear his decision with regard to the relationship between language and culture. He states that “the choice of language and the use to which it is put is central to a people’s definition of themselves in relation to their social environments.” Awarded a British Council Scholarship, he was the first African member of the University College in Nairobi, Kenya where he pushed for the study of African literatures at a time when they were virtually unheard of Having identified his community, Ngugi converted to the use of Gikuyu and has been writing in his own language ever since.
Ngugi’s complete return to his community actually reenacts the solution of some European countries confronted with the problems of fragmentation and identity. In the 18th century, Germany was a confusion of more than 20 independent states. As the Romantic Movement swept Europe, a new nationalist mood also began to rise, represented by the Sturm and Drang in literary circles of which Johannes Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803) and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) were the more prominent members.
Herder encouraged the study of folklore because it is “not only a view of the past, but a means to create a unique and characteristic formal literature of its own.” He pushed the idea of a “world of nations defined by vernacular and by folk culture.” He is credited with the adoption of the German language as the medium of literature in Germany which during his time was considered inferior to French and Latin.
Goethe, meanwhile “freed the German language from clumsiness and foreign literary domination in a vast output of easy, natural and personal lyrics …” His dramas, of which Faust is his masterpiece, and novels have influenced German literature for generations.
Folk literature likewise preserved and developed nationalism in Finland. Under Sweden for 700 years, and under Russia for 100 years, the Finns were perhaps more confused as a people than Filipinos are today because their subjugators were powerful neighboring colonizers. Their elite, and the entire reading public, were Swedish-speaking. But once the nationalists made a decision as to who their community was, there were no ifs and buts, no equivocation whatsoever, in their choice of language. Kalevala, the Finnish epic reconstructed by Elias Lonnrot from oral traditions of rural folks and published in 1849, helped spread the fire of nationalism, and the crude Finnish of peasants, servants and tradespeople, would later become the language of the entire community, elite and masa. And that was how the Finnish worldview and community were finally restored after almost a millennium of subjugation and marginalization.
Confronted by the plurality of traditional communities in our country our political and cultural leaders sought and continue to seek unificatior by trying to transform all the communities into a new community of English speakers in the image of the colonizers.” The subordinating processes to unite all the ethnokinship systems operated and continue to operate in all fields. After one hundred years, this new imagined community’s is still non-existent. What has been created instead is an intelligentsia whose members are recruited from all the communities, but who have become divorced from their very own communities. They have become a separate community whose borrowed worldviews have become dominant, but whose loyalties are suspect. Having identified themselves with the colonizers, they couldn’t care less about their own masa, their roots. Other well-intentioned elite seek to uproot the masa and reshape them into their own borrowed image. All political and cultural apparatuses, chiefly the educational system, have been used to achieve this end. And speaking in the parole of a foreign worldview, the chanters and storytellers of the elite are no longer understood in the ethnokinship langue. The symbols and the images are no longer familiar to the community.
What is tragic in all this is that the majority culture is the product of subjugation, and therefore it has a negative self image of itself While it has subordinated the Lumads, the majority culture is in turn subordinated by foreign cultures. Many analysts have already taken note of the tendency of the subjugated to efface the defeated self and put on the mask of the colonizer to hide the sense of national inferiority complex. Ashamed of themselves, many Filipinos, particularly the educated, would rather be Americans, or Japanese or British rather than be Filipinos, the worst form of colonial mentality.”
I suggest that a lot of us, myself included, belong to this new community which has no roots, and whose worldview is neither here nor there. I am sure a lot of us have asked ourselves this question: Who is my community? Well, who among us have gone the Achebe or Soyinka way? How many of us have gone the Ngugi way? And how many of us are simply lost on the way…?
Although our problems are complex, there is no need to lose hope. Our multiethnic and multireligious composition may be the source of our weakness now, but it can be the source of our strength if we reimagine a new community that will respect the differences and know how to give full play to the energies of the various ethnokinship systems in the country. Perhaps the bigger problematique is the horizontal split—how the disjointed elite and masa can reclaim each other and restore the community. For only then can the community become whole again and face up to the challenges of a highly competitive world.
In this regard, it may be appropriate to borrow the image from a Japanese animated TV series—the popular Voltes 5. This machine is composed of separate independent units, but when faced with a threat, they “volt in” to create an invincible superhero. It is my view that the Filipino elite and masa need to volt in to become an invincible ethnokinship unit.
In the meantime, in Lumad poetics there is no gap between poet or storyteller and his/her listeners. They speak the same language; they have common symbols drawn from the same worldview. The poet or storyteller is capable of new and fresh expressions, but these are always within the context of a familiar world. Threatened by more powerful forces, Lumad poetics has taken on a note of lament and of anger.
The Mandaya chanter issues this call: All those who can hear/ Ye all our friends/ Let us all awake/ Let us not sleep in unconcern/ Lest our race be gone/ Let us help each other/ Let us unite!”
Somewhere some war drums are being sounded, and the balyans are summoning the spirits for help in expelling the evil forces who are stealing their land, their gold, their arts and craft.
What will happen to the Lumads as a people and as a culture? Where will they go? Only the future can answer that, but for the Kulaman Manobos of Davao del Sur, they know where they want to go. To the skyworld, to paradise.
And when it was time to baloy (go to heaven), so a legend says, the tinayok or airship appeared and Lomabot gathered his seven wives, his son, and his rooster. His favorite wife and the most industrious among them, Wolispo, asked permission to gather camote for the trip. Lomabot said yes, but for her to hurry, instructing her to stop gathering camote when she reaches the part of the camote vine that has yellow leaves because it is the signal that the Tinayok is leaving And so Wolispo went to the camote patch. So intent was she about filling her buon (head basket) that she forgot his warning to stop after reaching the yellow leaves. She continued gathering camote, only stopping when her buon was filled. She hurriedly went to the tinayok, but it had taken off and was now cruising the sky She ran after it, calling Lomabot’s name. She stumbled and fell, and stood up and ran again. But the tinayok was already very far. And so she stopped by the river, sat on a stone and wept. Lomabot happened to look down and saw Wolispo. He took pity on her and transformed her into stone. Today, you will see a weeping stone figure in Lapuan, Don Marcelino, and people will tell you it is Wolispo who was left behind during the baby. Lomabot likewise saw his faithful dog Tuyang chasing a deer! He transformed both dog and deer into stone, and today you will see Tuyang chasing a deer in Caburan, Don Marcelino.
When the busaws (evil spirits) saw the tinayok, they were angry. They took a long bamboo pole and maneuvered it to hook and pull the tinayok down, but the tinayok was too far up they could not reach it anymore. One busaw blew his nose at the tinayok, and a huge glob of phlegm stuck to the back of the airboat, causing it to shake vigorously and to tilt precariously. Lomabot’s whetstone fell, and now you can see this giant whetstone in Santa Cruz, Davao del Sur. The rooster crowed, saying: “Scrape it off; scrape it off!” And Bengit, one of the wives, used the tuwg shell which is for mixing with betel chew, to scrape off the phlegm. The pieces fell on the busaws who ran in all directions. The tinayok regained its balance and went on.
In desperation, the busaws threw huge stones at the tinayok. One stone hit Mt. Apo, splitting its peak. Today you can see this huge scar on the east side of the mountain. The tinayok continued its flight northward to the skyworld without further incident. And so Lomabot and his family reached paradise. It is said Lomabot will come back again and bring his entire community with him to paradise.
Hane. Ehhrm. (Pause ) I know that our own journey in search of worldview and community will be as exciting and as perilous as Lomabot’s trip.