Audience questions after my presentations, in Jakarta, on the evolution of the shape of the Philippines from early maps, were varied. While I could field historical questions with my eyes closed, nonhistorical ones stump me. Indonesians wanted to know more about the current dispute with China over the West Philippine Sea. What I did not prepare for were questions regarding our territorial dispute with Indonesia. Those were best addressed to Filipino diplomats in our embassy in Jakarta or those in our Mission to Asean. I came out of the forums with a smile knowing that a lecture on obscure maps could inspire deeper questions on contemporary issues. Contrary to popular belief, history is not about dead facts. Not the who, what, where, when, and how that populate exams and quiz bees, but more the whys that make the past relevant in the present.
In the 1994 Miss Universe Q&A the Philippine contestant, Charlene Gonzales, was asked, “how many islands are there in the Philippines?” Nervous but undaunted Gonzales bought some time by answering with a question, “High tide or low tide?” Her answer brought the house down, giving her a split second to blurt out: “7,107 high tide, 7,108 low tide.” I honestly think that reply should have given her the crown, but as a friend continually reminds me “Miss Universe is a beauty contest, not an IQ test!” Long before the National Mapping Agency gave us the exact number as 7,641 I have always wondered where 7,107 came from? I used to think the number came out of a hat during the first Marcos Period because the President was fond of the number seven or multiples of seven. However, there is a German map of “India Extrema,” by Munster, dated to 1540 that depicts an “Archipelagus 7448 insulari” that I presumed was the islands before they were named “Filipinas” by the Spanish crown. When I looked closer to the left of this archipelago was a smaller group of islands that was the Philippines because only one island was named “Puloan.” Was this old Palawan?
An American geography textbook in use in the Philippines circa 1902 stated that: “No exact enumeration of all the islands [in the Philippines] has ever been made, but an official estimate places the number at 3,141.” I was informed that 7,107 was the number estimated in a prewar US Geodetic survey of the Philippines that I have not validated. What number should be in our K-12 Araling Panlipunan textbooks? Should it really be 7,641? Do all of these known islands have a name? Do some really disappear at low tide? What about the Unclos definition of islands that includes “rocks?” I was told that an island is defined as a land form above water during high tide, while a rock is a land form that measures 2,000 square meters. Enough space to fit a cluster of small houses. How many “rocks” are there in the Philippines and could we add those to the 7,641 islands?
All this talk about islands, rocks, and bodies of water reminded me of K-12 class where we were taught that an archipelago was a group of islands separated by water. This idea was further emphasized when I read Nick Joaquin’s essay “Culture and History” where he lists “Greatest Events in Philippine History.” Instead of textbook-worthy historical events like: the execution of Gomburza, the Cry of Pugad Lawin (or Balintawak), the Declaration of Philippine Independence, the Japanese Occupation, or even the Declaration of Martial Law, he lists process and innovations from the Spanish colonial period: Introduction of the Roman Alphabet, Introduction of Paper and Printing, Introduction of New Crops and Livestock, etc. What caught my eye in his list were: the Introduction of the Wheel and the Introduction of Roads and Bridges.
Only when I studied the 1734 Murillo Velarde Map of the Philippines did I realize that K-12 did not teach me to read maps correctly. Instead of looking for cities and towns I learned to look at the way these settlements related to each other on land and water. It was only after college that I realized that before the Spanish contact, before the wheel, bridge and road, our ancestors lived by the seacoasts and riverways. They were in tune with their maritime and archipelagic culture before the Spanish pushed them inland into the new barrios, towns, cities, and provinces.
Early Filipinos would define an archipelago as a group of islands connected, not separated, by water. They traveled in bancas and barangays from one island to another without need of bridges. Water was their road. Boats were their bridges. The Pasig was the old Edsa. When the Spanish arrived they were surprised that almost everyone knew how to swim. Friars were scandalized that the people took a bath every day! Looking back on our forgotten maritime heritage, we should ask ourselves why 3,000 Filipinos die of unintentional drowning every year. Shouldn’t swimming be part of every Filipino’s skill set? We have a lot to relearn in terms of our lost or forgotten maritime heritage.
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Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu