Juan Luna (1857-1899), an indigenous Filipino oil painter, created this allegorical representation of a benevolent Spain guiding the Philippines onward towards progress, assimilation and equality. It was the view of Filipino reformists of the time that Spain could be a positive force in improving the impoverished status of indigenous Filipinos. The optimism reflected in this image reminds me of the favorable view many Filipinos still hold of our former colonizers.
The large scale oil painting above (measuring 13.8 ft × 25.18 ft) was submitted by Juan Luna to the Exposición Nacional de Bellas Artes in Madrid in 1884, where it won a first prize medal. Another allegory, it depicts Roman gladiators being stripped of their weapons and robes. Can you guess what the allegory represents?
The success of Spoliarium in Spain's version of the Paris Salon shocked Spaniards of the day. José Rizal, himself an indio (the term formerly used to refer to the indigenous people of the Philippines), argued that this demonstrated the racial equality of indigenous Filipinos.
Dr. Jose Rizal traveled across Europe and even America, as a part of an educated middle class of Filipinos referred to as the "Ilustrados" or enlightened ones, many of whom were the children of wealthy landowners. They were educated in Spain and exposed to the liberal ideas prevalent in Europe at the time.
Away in Europe, Rizal would author two revolutionary novels that would open the eyes of the world to the corruption of the powerful Spanish priesthood in the Philippines. Rizal was not opposed to Spain per se, but to the exploitation and control exerted by wealthy and powerful Catholic friars. These clergymen owned large tracts of land, called haciendas, and rented plots to tenant farmers—native Filipinos, or indios, whose religious education and spiritual well-being were also in their charge.
More than 100 years after his execution by firing squad in Manila, Rizal is still regarded by many as the finest indigenous Filipino to have ever lived.
Background: During the Spanish colonial era, the term Filipino was reserved for pure-blooded persons of Spanish descent.
Not only was the term Filipino reserved for Spaniards, sections of land were as well. The islands were racially segregated: Spanish blancos or whites lived inside the fortified city of Intramuros; Sangleys, who were pure-blooded Chinese descendants, lived in Parían; mestizos de Sangley (mixed-blood Chinese) lived in Binondo; and the remaining parts of the islands, except for a few other Spanish settlements, were left for the indios. Besides the Filipinos of Spanish descent, only mestizos (half Spanish) could enter the walled city, and only to work as servants and workers necessary for the colony.
I was born in Canada to Philippine immigrants. I've lived in both Canada and, in my formative teenage years, the Philippines. As an adult, I traveled to Spain to study the art at the Prado Museum and in the process, gained insight into my people's historical connection with Spain. I only recently learned that Juan Luna, who painted works in the style that I also gravitate towards, was also a copyist at the Prado. (See image below.) Walking through the same halls, examining the same works, inhabiting the same spaces they would have, I felt a profound connection to my heroes Juan Luna and Jose Rizal.
Another recent discovery for me was the existence of this copper plate inscription, found in Laguna, the province where I attended university in the Philippines. As evidence of pre-colonial civilization, it helps to dispel the racist ideology imposed on our people by colonial powers. Apart from this evidence of literacy, there is much more evidence of our civilization prior to the arrival of Spain, (sophistication in weaponry, arts, trade and sea-faring) but this is is excluded from the dominant narrative.
For me, the key stereotype perpetuating barriers to understanding indigenous cultures is this idea that indigenous people need help or that they would somehow benefit from becoming assimilated into another culture.
As a dual Filipino-Canadian citizen, and a descendant of peoples who are even now struggling to come to terms with our identity as a result of the oppression and suppression that was a result of colonization by Spain and then by America, I empathize with First Nations in Canada, whose homeland has been systematically stripped from them, followed by their identity.
Justice for their people includes that which I also desire for my own: to be recognized as equals, as having a valuable culture that is worthy of genuine respect.
For this to happen, what was forgotten must be recovered and remembered by future generations. In the light of our history, we should examine who we are today, recognize our current challenges, work together to strengthen one another, and take the time to celebrate our successes.
Perhaps introducing outsiders to indigenous ways of knowing and creating and by inviting indigenous people to speak for themselves about themselves, we will begin to value and honor one other's cultures sincerely.