When I was in grade/high school, I had two separate Philippine history subjects that were supposed to build on each other and prepare me for another two Philippine courses in college that were supposed to deepen my knowledge and appreciation of the subject.
Well-meaning K-to-12 reforms have decluttered the curriculum such that Philippine history is taken up in Grade 5, and students encounter it again in two college courses: one on Rizal required by law, and another on Philippine history using primary sources.
This semester, I teach my last batch of students under the “old curriculum”; they take the Rizal course in their senior/junior year following a syllabus that has generally been the same since I started teaching it in 1998. Next year, I will teach the same course under different conditions: Students will be freshmen whose last contact with Philippine history was seven years prior to my course. They may not remember much of the chronology or narrative that is supposed to be deepened by the use of primary sources. It is an exciting challenge.
I need not adapt too much, because in my present Philippine history course, the students are given a lot of primary source readings like the 10th-century Chinese travel accounts of the islands, an excerpt from Antonio Pigafetta’s chronicle of the Magellan expedition that doesn’t reference Lapu-Lapu in the Battle of Mactan, and 16th-century reports from Manila by the governor-general and the bishop of Manila, describing what life was like in those times. They also read two of Rizal’s diaries, a sampling of his letters, the autobiography of Gregoria de Jesus, and excerpts from Emilio Aguinaldo’s memoirs.
I was fortunate during my college days to have had access to the Filipiniana collection of the Ateneo Rizal Library and the Lopez Museum. Today, a new generation has access to many sources here and abroad through the internet, except that they are distracted by porn and social media.
This week, students have to make sense of Apolinario Mabini as seen from four sources: an excerpt from Mabini’s Guam memoirs, a spiteful comment on him by De Jesus, an appreciative profile by Leon Ma. Guerrero and a contrary, iconoclastic one by Nick Joaquin. Add to these whatever they had learned in school and from their internet research, and the question they ask will be for the real Mabini to stand up from the sometimes conflicting sources.
Most of the students like the primary sources because it fleshes out the cardboard figures they learned about in school. Some are bothered that they are invading into Rizal’s privacy by reading journals and letters that nobody would have cared for if he did not become the national hero. Many students remark that the primary sources made our heroes “more human,” to which I remark, “Who told you they were not human?”
Last week, one student hit it on the head when she explained that the primary sources rescued historical figures who had been fossilized in bronze and stone monuments. The primary sources showed these figures as flawed “sometimes conflicted” characters, thus providing students a more nuanced understanding of why they did the things they did. Primary sources allow them to argue controversial points, like Aguinaldo’s role in the execution of Andres Bonifacio and Antonio Luna, from evidence rather than emotion.
With the midterm elections on Monday, we looked back at the Tejeros Convention and reviewed different views. Some say it was regionalism or ‘Cavitisimo’ that led to the rise of Aguinaldo and the fall of Bonifacio. Other sources suggest there was cheating in Tejeros, with filled-up ballots, campaigning during the polls and perhaps the first “dagdag-bawas” in our history. Then there is the painful realization that Aguinaldo was the only Magdalo elected in a slate filled with Magdiwang, suggesting that Bonifacio was actually betrayed by the people he trusted, including relatives of his wife.
History is not always clear-cut or as simple as black and white; it is a complex narrative that may change as new material comes to light or our perspectives change. History is often seen as a ’useless’ subject, but it is that knowledge of the past that helps us make sense of the present and face an uncertain future.
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu