Historical background of Philippines PDF

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BRIEF HISTORY OF THE PHILIPPINES The Early Philippines The Philippines is named after King Philip II of Spain (1556-1598) and it was a Spanish colony for over 300 years. Today the Philippines is an archipelago of 7,000 islands. However it is believed that during the last ice age they were joined to mainland Asia by a land bridge, enabling human beings to walk from there. The first people in the Philippines were hunter-gatherers. However between 3,000 BC and 2,000 BC people learned to farm. They grew rice and domesticated animals. From the 10th AD century Filipinos traded with China and by the 12th Century AD Arab merchants reached the Philippines and they introduced Islam. Then in 1521 Ferdinand Magellan sailed across the Pacific. He landed in the Philippines and claimed them for Spain. Magellan baptized a chief called Humabon and hoped to make him a puppet ruler on behalf of the Spanish crown. Magellan demanded that other chiefs submit to Humabon but one chief named Lapu Lapu refused. Magellan led a force to crush him. However the Spanish soldiers were scattered and Magellan was killed. The Spaniards did not gain a foothold in the Philippines until 1565 when Miguel Lopez de Legazpi led an expedition, which built a fort in Cebu. Later, in 1571 the Spaniards landed in Luzon. Here they built the city of Intramuros (later called Manila), which became the capital of the Philippines. Spanish conquistadors marched inland and conquered Luzon. They created a feudal system. Spaniards owned vast estates worked by Filipinos. Along with conquistadors went friars who converted the Filipinos to Catholicism. The friars also built schools and universities. The Spanish colony in the Philippines brought prosperity - for the upper class anyway! Each year the Chinese exported goods such as silk, porcelain and lacquer to the Philippines. From there they were re-exported to Mexico. The years passed uneventfully in the Philippines until in 1762 the British captured Manila. They held it for two years but they handed it back in 1764 under the terms of the Treaty of Paris, signed in 1763. The Philippines in the 19th Century In 1872 there was a rebellion in Cavite but it was quickly crushed. However nationalist feeling continued to grow helped by a writer named Jose Rizal (1861-1896). He wrote two novels Noli Me Tangere (Touch me Not) and El Filibusterismo (The Filibusterer) which stoked the fires of nationalism.

In 1892 Jose Rizal founded a movement called Liga Filipina, which called for reform rather than revolution. As a result Rizal was arrested and exiled to Dapitan on Mindanao. Meanwhile Andres Bonifacio formed a more extreme organisation called the Katipunan. In August 1896 they began a revolution. Jose Rizal was accused of supporting the revolution, although he did not and he was executed on 30 December 1896. Yet his execution merely inflamed Filipino opinion and the revolution grew. Then in 1898 came war between the USA and Spain. On 30 April 1898 the Americans defeated the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay. Meanwhile Filipino revolutionaries had surrounded Manila. Their leader, Emilio Aguinaldo declared the Philippines independent on 12 June. However as part of the peace treaty Spain ceded the Philippines to the USA. The Americans planned to take over. War between American forces in Manila and the Filipinos began on 4 February 1899. The Filipino-American War lasted until 1902 when Aguinaldo was captured. The Philippines in the 20th Century American rule in the Philippines was paternalistic. They called their policy 'Benevolent Assimilation'. They wanted to 'Americanize' the Filipinos but they never quite succeeded. However they did do some good. Many American teachers were sent to the Philippines in a ship called the Thomas and they did increase literacy. In 1935 the Philippines were made a commonwealth and were semi-independent. Manuel Quezon became president. The USA promised that the Philippines would become completely independent in 1945. However in December 1941 Japan attacked the US fleet at Pearl Harbor. On 10 December 1941 Japanese troops invaded the Philippines. They captured Manila on 2 January 1941. By 6 May 1942 all of the Philippines were in Japanese hands. However American troops returned to the Philippines in October 1944. They recaptured Manila in February 1945. The Philippines became independent on 4 July 1946. Manuel Roxas was the first president of the newly independent nation. Ferdinand Marcos (1917-1989) was elected president in 1965. He was re-elected in 1969. However the Philippines was dogged by poverty and inequality. In the 1960s a land reform program began. However many peasants were frustrated by its slow progress and a Communist insurgency began in the countryside. On 21 September 1972 Marcos declared martial law. He imposed a curfew, suspended Congress and arrested opposition leaders.

The Marcos dictatorship was exceedingly corrupt and Marcos and his cronies enriched themselves. Then, in 1980 opposition leader Benigno Aquino went into exile in the USA. When he returned on 21 August 1983 he was shot. Aquino became a martyr and Filipinos were enraged by his murder. In February 1986 Marcos called an election. The opposition united behind Cory Aquino the widow of Benigno. Marcos claimed victory (a clear case of electoral fraud). Cory Aquino also claimed victory and ordinary people took to the streets to show their support for her. The followers of Marcos deserted him and he bowed to the inevitable and went into exile. Things did not go smoothly for Corazon Aquino. (She survived 7 coup attempts). Furthermore the American bases in the Philippines (Subic Bay Naval Base and Clark Air Base) were unpopular with many Filipinos who felt they should go. In 1992 Mount Pinatubo erupted and covered Clark in volcanic ash forcing the Americans to leave. They left Subic Bay in 1993. In 1992 Fidel Ramos became president. He improved the infrastructure in the Philippines including the electricity supply. Industry was privatized and the economy began to grow more rapidly. However at the end of the 1990s the Philippine economy entered a crisis. Meanwhile in 1998 Joseph Estrada, known as Erap became president. Estrada was accused of corruption and he was impeached in November 2000. Estrada was not convicted. Nevertheless people demonstrated against him and the military withdrew its support. Estrada was forced to leave office and Vice-president Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo replaced him. She was re-elected in 2004.

CULTURAL DEVELOPMENT

Cultural milieu Philippine society is a unique blend of diversity and homogeneity. Although geographically part of Southeast Asia, the country is culturally strongly Euro-American. Forces of assimilation have constantly worked to overcome cultural differences between the various ethnic groups that are scattered—sometimes in relative isolation—throughout the archipelago. Nearly four centuries of Western rule, however, have left an indelible imprint on the Philippines, serving as a conduit for the introduction of Western culture and as the catalyst for the emergence of a sense of Philippine political and cultural unity. While the Christian churches built by the Spanish and the mosques built by the Muslims provided a spiritual anchor, the educational system established by the United States and expanded by the Filipinos has become emblematic of cultural unity and socioeconomic progress. Nonetheless, through the persistence of strong family ties, the revival of the barangay as the smallest unit of government, increased attention to

Asian history and literature, and subsequent revival of dormant traditions, the Philippines has strengthened its Asian heritage without abandoning its Western cultural acquisitions. Daily life and social customs Life in the Philippines generally revolves around the extended family, including parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins (up to several times removed), and other relatives. For Catholic families, godparents—those to whom care of children is entrusted should the parents die or otherwise be incapacitated—also figure prominently in the kinship network. Members of extended families typically gather for major life events such as baptisms and confirmations (for Catholic Filipinos), circumcisions (for Muslim Filipinos), and marriages, as well as for major religious and other national holidays. Among the religious holidays officially observed in the Philippines are Christmas and Easter, as well as Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of the Muslim fasting month of Ramadan. Other major holidays include New Year’s Day, Labor Day (May 1), and Independence Day (June 12). Whether festival fare or everyday food, major meals in most Filipino societies are built around boiled or steamed rice or rice noodles. Small amounts of meat, including chicken, pork (in non-Muslim communities), goat, or fish complement the rice or noodle core, along with an assortment of fruits and cooked vegetables. Assorted alcoholic drinks are made from coconut sap, sugarcane, and rice. Balut, a parboiled embryonic duck still in the egg, is a popular street food in the Manilaarea. Although slacks, shirts, skirts, and dresses based on European designs are common throughout the Philippines, some garments are unique to particular groups or regions. The malong, a colourful woven tube of cloth that can be worn in a variety of ways by both men and women, is characteristic of Muslim communities in Mindanao. In the urban areas, many men wear an intricately embroidered shirt, the barong, for casual and formal events. On special occasions, urban women may wear the terno, a long dress characterized by broad “butterfly” sleeves that rise slightly at the shoulders and extend about to the elbow. Many of the smaller ethnic groups have characteristic attire for events of special cultural significance.

EXAMPLES OF PHILIPPINE LITERATURE Philippine literature reflects a diverse group of works which are mostly grounded on traditional folktales, socio-political histories, and real-life experiences. Such books have since promoted Filipino cultural values, told daily struggles of locals, and have instilled a remarkable lesson or two. Here are the books worth your time. Noli Me Tángere by Dr. José Rizal Among the great novels in Philippine literature, Noli Me Tángere (Touch Me Not) is the most controversial and widely-known – it’s included in the current education curriculum of Filipino high school students. Written by the country’s national hero, Dr. José Rizal, this novel

sparked the social awakening of Filipinos during the Spanish colonial era. As Rizal cannot fathom the unfairness of the Spanish priests and the ruling government at the time, his purpose of writing the book was to expose the ills of Philippine society at the time. In this revolutionary book, you’ll learn about the story of Crisostomo Ibarra, how he dealt with Spanish authorities, and how he prepared for his revenge, as told in Rizal’s 2nd book, El Filibusterismo. Florante at Laura by Francisco Balagtas Another famous masterpiece in Philippine literature, Francisco Balagtas’ Florante at Laura is written in the form of ‘awit’ where there are four lines per stanza and 12 syllables per line. Set in the fictional kingdom of Albania, it tackles the story between Duke Florante and Princess Laura, who’s also being pursued by Florante’s enemy Count Adolfo. As a literary classic, this book has become a favorite play not only among Filipino high school students, but has been showcased in grand theaters such as Gantimpala Theater and the Cultural Center of the Philippines.

FAITH, LOVE, TIME AND DR. LAZARO By: Gregorio Brillantes From the upstairs veranda, Dr. Lazaro had a view of stars, the country darkness, the lights on the distant highway at the edge of town. The phonograph in the sala played Chopin – like a vast sorrow controlled, made familiar, he had wont to think. But as he sat there, his lean frame in the habitual slack repose took after supper, and stared at the plains of night that had evoked gentle images and even a kind of peace (in the end, sweet and invincible oblivion), Dr. Lazaro remembered nothing, his mind lay untouched by any conscious thought, he was scarcely aware of the April heat; the pattern of music fell around him and dissolved swiftly, uncomprehended. It was as though indifference were an infection that had entered his blood it was everywhere in his body. In the scattered light from the sala his angular face had a dusty, wasted quality, only his eyes contained life. He could have remained there all evening, unmoving, and buried, it is where, in a strange half-sleep, had his wife not come to tell him he was wanted on the phone. Gradually his mind stirred, focused; as he rose from the chair he recognized the somber passage in the sonata that, curiosly, made him think of ancient monuments, faded stone walls, a greyness. The brain filed away an image; and arrangement of sounds released it… He switched off the phonograph, suppressed and impatient quiver in his throat as he reached for the phone: everyone had a claim on his time. He thought: Why not the younger ones for a change? He had spent a long day at the provincial hospital. The man was calling from a service station outside the town – the station after the agricultural high school, and before the San Miguel bridge, the man added rather needlessly, in a voice that was frantic yet oddly subdued and courteous. Dr. Lazaro thad heard it countless times, in the corridors of the hospitals, in waiting rooms: the perpetual awkward misery. He was Pedro Esteban, the brother of the doctor’s tenant in Nambalan, said the voice, trying to make itself less sudden remote. But the connection was faulty, there was a humming in the wires, as though darkness had added to the distance between the house in the town and the gas station beyond the summer fields. Dr. Lazaro could barely catch the severed phrases. The man’s week-old child had a high fever, a bluish skin; its mouth would not open to suckle. They could not take the baby to the poblacion, they would not dare move it; its body turned rigid at the slightest touch. If the doctor would consent to come at so late an hour, Esteban would wait for him at the station. If the doctor would be so kind… Tetanus of the newborn: that was elementary, and most likely it was so hopeless, a waste of time. Dr. Lazaro said yes, he would be there; he had committed himself to that answer, long ago; duty had taken the place of an exhausted compassion. The carelessness of the poor, the infected blankets, the toxin moving toward the heart: they were casual scribbled items in a clinical report. But outside the grilled windows, the night suddenly seemed alive and waiting. He had no choice left now but action: it was the only certitude – he sometimes reminded himself – even if it would prove futile, before, the descent into nothingness. His wife looked up from her needles and twine, under the shaded lamp of the bedroom; she had finished the pullover for the grandchild in Bagiuo and had begun work, he noted, on another of those altar vestments for the parish church. Religion and her grandchild certainly kept her busy … She looked at him, into so much to inquire as to be spoken to: a large and placid woman. “Shouldn’t have let the drive go home so early,” Dr. Lazaro said. “They had to wait till now to call … Child’s probably dead…”

“Ben can drive for you.” “I hardly see that boy around the house. He seems to be on vacation both from home and in school.” “He’s downstairs,” his wife said. Dr. Lazaro put on fresh shirt, buttoned it with tense, abrupt motions, “I thought he’d gone out again… Who’s that girl he’s been seeing?...It’s not just warm, it’s hot. You should’ve stayed on in Baguio… There’s disease, suffering, death, because Adam ate the apple. They must have an answer to everything… “He paused at the door, as though for the echo of his words. Mrs. Lazaro had resumed the knitting; in the circle of yellow light, her head bowed, she seemed absorbed in some contemplative prayer. But her silences had ceased t disturb him, like the plaster saints she kept in the room, in their cases of glass, or that air she wore of conspiracy, when she left with Ben for Mass in the mornings. Dr. Lazaro would ramble about miracle drugs, politics, music, the common sense of his unbelief; unrelated things strung together in a monologue; he posed questions, supplied with his own answers; and she would merely nod, with an occasional “Yes?” and “Is that so?” and something like a shadow of anxiety in her gaze. He hurried down the curving stairs, under the votive lamps of the Sacred Heart. Ben lay sprawled on the sofa, in the front parlor; engrossed in a book, one leg propped against the back cushions. “Come along, we’re going somewhere,” Dr. Lazaro said, and went into the clinic for his medical bag. He added a vial of penstrep, an ampule of caffeine to the satchel’s content’s; rechecked the bag before closing it; the cutgut would last just one more patient. One can only cure, and know nothing beyond one’s work… There had been the man, today, in the hospital: the cancer pain no longer helped by the doses of morphine; the patients’s eyes flickering their despair in the eroded face. Dr. Lazaro brushed aside the stray vision as he strode out of the whitewashed room; he was back in his element, among syringes, steel instruments, quick decisions made without emotion, and it gave him a kind of blunt energy. I’ll drive, Pa?” Ben followed him through the kitchen, where the maids were ironing the week’s wash, gossiping, and out to the yard shrouded in the dimness of the single bulb under the eaves. The boy push back the folding doors of the garage and slid behind the wheel. “Somebody’s waiting at the gas station near San Miguel. You know the place?” “Sure,” Ben said. The engine sputtered briefly and stopped. “Battery’s weak,” Dr. Lazaro said. “Try it without the lights,” and smelled the gasoline overflow as the old Pontiac finally lurched around the house and through the trellised gate, its front sweeping over the dry dusty street. But he’s all right, Dr. Lazaro thought as they swung smoothly into the main avenue of the town, past the church and the plaza, the kiosko bare for once in a season of fiestas, the lam-posts shining on the quiet square. They did not speak; he could sense his son’s concentration on the road, and he noted, with a tentative amusement, the intense way the boy sat behind the wheel, his eagerness to be of help. They passed the drab frame houses behind the marketplace, and the capitol building on its landscaped hill, the gears shifting easily as they went over the railroad tracks that crossed the asphalted street. Then the road was pebbled and uneven, the car bucking slightly; and they were speeding between open fields, a succession of narrow wooden bridges breaking the crunching drive of the wheels. Dr. Lazaro gazed at the wide darkness around them, the shapes of trees and bushes hurling toward them and sliding away and he saw the stars, hard glinting points of light yards, black space, infinite distances; in the unmeasured universe, man’s life flared briefly and was

gone, traceless in the void. He turned away from the emptiness. He said: “You seem to have had a lot of practice, Ben.” “A lot of what, Pa?” “The ways you drive. Very professional.” In the glow of the dashboard lights, the boy’s face relaxed, smiled. “Tio Cesar let me use his car, in Manila. On special occasions.” “No reckless driving now,” Dr. Lazaro said. “Some fellows think it’s smart. Gives them a thrill. Don’t be like that.” “No, I won’t, Pa. I just like to drive and – and go place, that’s all.” Dr. Lazaro watched the young face intent on the road, a cowlick over the forehead, the mall curve of the nose, his own face before he left to study in another country, a young student of full illusions, a lifetime ago; long before the loss of faith, God turning abstract, unknowable, and everywhere, it seemed to him, those senseless accidents of pain. He felt a need to define unspoken things, to come closer somehow to the last of his sons; one of these days, before the boy’s vacation was over, they might to on a picnic together, a trip to the farm; a special day for the two of them – fa...