The current debate debate in history departments over the true date of Andres Bonifacio’s execution, reflected in historian Ambeth Ocampo’s two most recent columns, is not without its advantages. The biggest boon is basic: It provokes discussion about Bonifacio’s place in the Philippines’ pantheon of heroes. The controversy over whether Bonifacio was executed, under orders from Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo, on April 26 or May 10, the traditional date, has served to stimulate more interest in Bonifacio than last year’s commemoration of his 150th birth anniversary.
Where are the men in this country? They are now in women tasked to render justice, unearth anomalies, recover ill-gotten wealth and punish the rogues and rascals in public service along with their cohorts.
By Breanne Araula
At a very young age, I learned that you have to be your own hero. It’s a lesson you can only learn when you have been hurt too many times. When we are little, our parents are our heroes. We run to them when we get a wound, and we always feel better after a kiss. But for me, this was not the case. My parents had me when they were both 20 years old, and to them, I was the sole reason their dreams had to wait. I was the obstacle, the hindrance to their success.
By Ambeth R. Ocampo
History is usually delivered in school through: textbooks, teachers’ lectures, assignments, quizzes, and exams.
By Randy David
Of the varied fare produced by this year’s Metro Manila Film Festival, it was “El Presidente,” the film depicting the life of Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo, that I was most eager to watch. Films about a nation’s heroes are always tricky affairs. If they show nothing new about the persons or the circumstances in which they lived, they risk becoming utterly boring. If, on the other hand, they set out to project heroes in a new light, they are likely to face the question: What is fiction and what is fact?