Looking Back
The Christmas Eve uprising of 1639
By Ambeth Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 04:39:00 12/24/2008
Filed Under: Christmas, history
It was a rough but merry Christmas in Intramuros in 1639. A serious Chinese revolt had been dealt with, leaving many casualties. The Spanish flag remained flying in Intramuros, the Chinese had been crushed yet again.
I remembered this botched 17th century revolt as I patiently waited in line to get into the mall or the MRT recently. Security (or the theatrical motions of it) was in place to give shoppers and commuters a false sense of safety in the age of terrorism. I don’t know why we bother. Either you do a thorough and inconvenient search, or not do it at all because all we have today are just inconvenient cursory searches. Have you ever wondered if the hand-held metal detectors used by security guards work at all? These devices are often placed prominently on a table, the guards preferring to poke at our belongings with that unique Philippine anti-terrorist device: a barbecue stick! When you go to the airport, you are flagged down and a guard gives the inside of your car a bored look. Before he waves you in, he asks that you open the glove compartment as if a trained terrorist will leave a gun or bomb lying in that small space. Will the guards recognize a bomb when they actually see a dismantled one in a knapsack?
These days we have a Christmas truce, no military or insurgent activity for a number of days. In the past, Christmas was also peaceful, except for a Chinese uprising set in 1639. The plot looked simple enough: The long oppressed Chinese who greatly outnumbered the Spaniards within the walls were to take over the city on Christmas Eve and thus, symbolically, take possession of the rest of the colony.
The Chinese were asked to leave Intramuros at night and were mostly settled in a place called the Parian around the area now known as Liwasang Bonifacio and near the Metropolitan Theater. The plot, set for the evening of Dec. 24, called for some Chinese to enter the city during the day carrying gifts of fowl to their Spanish friends and acquaintances and to remain inside. Others would enter the city while the sentries manning the gates and the rest of the citizens were distracted by the performance of a comedia or two outside the main gates. Once they had critical mass, and at an appointed time or given signal, they were to kill all Spaniards in sight and take the city.
Unfortunately, like all failed plots in our history that require precision and timing, this one failed because nobody came on time. It was not that they came late; rather they started too early! An uprising in Calamba led to the discovery of the bigger plot. Manila’s inadequate defenses were reinforced by friars turned soldiers who wore their religious habits in battle, and by their prayers and gallantry rallied people to God and the Spanish flag.
In “Relacion verdadera del levantamiento de los Sangleyes” (True relation of the Sangley insurrection) Madrid, 1642 as translated in volume 29 of Blair and Robertson, we have the outcome in summary:
“Calamba is twelve leguas from Manila. The Chinese corresponded with a Chinese pirate named Yquan Sanglus; it was arranged that he should come to aid them on Christmas Eve 1639 (the date set for the treason), and to capture the galleons from New Spain [Mexico]. There were 35,000 licensed Sangleyes in Manila and its vicinity, besides 10,000 more in remote provinces. [This figure goes up even further if we are to take into account undocumented Chinese.] In Manila at this time there were thirty foot soldiers, thirty horsemen, fifty Japanese, and seventy Siyaos [whatever that means].”
One cannot understand why such a small force defending the walled city was able to repel a force of over 50,000 Chinese. Of course, the Spaniards were defended by loyal troops from Pampanga, and they also had St. Francis, who was then considered the “Seraphic Protector of Manila.” St. Francis is revered today as patron of pets, but this kind saint was alleged to have appeared on the ramparts of Manila in the 17th century brandishing a flaming sword that killed and drove away a host of Chinese insurgents. Friar chronicles are a curious mix of fact and legend.
“The value of the goods destroyed in the Parian was 5,000,000 pesos; and the houses (built of molave), with the church and the stone houses altogether were worth 2,000,000 pesos. [Nipa huts and other more modest dwellings are not in the inventory so the value of houses and goods destroyed by this uprising goes up considerably.] Twenty champans brought to Mariveles the Sangleys from neighboring provinces to join the Manila insurgents; but a Spanish and Pampango force went out against them, who sank eleven of the champans and killed six hundred and fifty men. Among the troops levied by the governor were a company of Japanese and two of Sangley mestizos. Chinese prisoners confessed that their general had offered, to each Sangley who should bring in a Spanish head a large reward, including a Spanish woman to be his wife. A body of religious from all the orders, aided by some Indios and ten soldiers, undertook to defend the passage across the [Pasig] river, and killed many of the enemy. On Feb. 24, 1640, the starving Sangleyes, numbering of 7,793, surrendered.”
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu
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