QUOTE
IV. CHANGING THE NAME PHILIPPINES
Several times over the past decade or so, many Filipinos, especially “Filipino nationalists”, have raised a great hue and cry over the derogatory use by Westerners – or what were viewed to be such – of the word Filipino. Filipinos strongly protested when the words Filipino, Filipina and Filipineza were defined in several Western dictionaries as “a domestic helper” or “a maid”. Filipinos were again in uproar when a packet of cookies produced in Spain and marketed in Europe carried the brand name Filipinos. Defining Filipino as a domestic helper is indeed an ugly, racist slur. On the other hand, the use of Filipinos as a name for cookies which are not made by Filipinos themselves may be as innocuous as Canton and Alaska in pancit Canton and Alaska milk, which are not products of the Cantonese and the Alaskans themselves. The common Filipino expression lutong Macao and the use of Double Dutch as the name for an ice cream being sold in Filipino supermarkets are perhaps much more politically incorrect.
But come to think of it, Filipino has for a long time – or even always – had either a pejorative or a discriminatory connotation to it. For over 300 years, the peninsular Spaniards used it to refer pejoratively to the insular Spaniards. When the mestizos and ilustrados adopted the name, they first made it an exclusive preserve for the insulares and for themselves, and excluded the lower–class indios. During the American colonial period, Filipino tended to be used only for “civilized” Christians and to discriminate against non–Christian “savages”. From the very beginning, Philippines and Filipino have always had a colonial ring to them, but most Filipinos have chosen to just gloss over this. The Muslims in southern Philippines have always been conscious of, and protested against, the colonial–ness of Philippines and Filipino, but the dominant ethnie has ignored them and are dragging them into its colonial–mindedness.
(It seems apt to make a few asides here. First, since the Spaniards invented the term filipino and were the first filipinos, why shouldn’t they put it on their cookies? Second, what an irony that an appellation like filipino (or Filipino) that was once reserved for the elite in the Philippines during the Spanish period is now taken to mean a domestic helper! And third, again what an irony that the Filipinos in Europe today suffer from what the original moros – i.e., the Moors – experienced there centuries ago: In sixteenth–century Spain and Portugal, and in Naples and Venice, the Moors were stereotyped as servants. 120)
It is time to discard the name Philippines and together with it the appellation Filipino. They are utterly colonial names, manifesting the internalization and epidermalization of inferiority of the Filipinos. They are, in fact, doubly colonial in that they identify not just with the foreign monarch who ordered the country’s colonization, but also with the white criollos who were among the indios’ direct oppressors. According to George, prolonged usage of Philippines and Filipino have no doubt dulled the Filipinos’ awareness of their incongruity and colonial character. 121 But the colonial stigma remains. Far from diminishing or erasing the colonial stigma, prolonged usage of Philippines and Filipino has in fact heightened and accentuated it: the longer the usage, the deeper has been the internalization of inferiority – to the point that one takes these terms for granted and does not think about them anymore. The colonial names have to go all the more if Filipinos take to heart what Recto himself once declared: “[T]he independence of countries such as ours cannot be complete until the last traces of colonialism have been eradicated”. 122
Apart from being colonial, Philippines and Filipino have for long periods been associated with racial, class, ethnic/national and religious discrimination. As symbols of the ethnocentric prejudices of the country’s dominant ethnie and the ethnocratic tendencies of the Philippine state, Philippines and Filipino have not served as true emblems of the nation – or the constellation of nations or ethnic groups that are supposed to comprise the present Philippines – and of national identity. Rather, they have been a factor for continuing dissension and disunity. Christian Filipinos cannot afford to keep ignoring the objections of the Muslims to Philippines and Filipino, because, as Alastair Davidson has pointed out, nations simply cannot be made as they were in the past 200 years: it is no longer acceptable for a formally democratic country to forge national unity by mercilessly erasing cultural differences and making people “forget” their own, different pre–national histories. 123
If given a good start, a new move to change the country’s name – on the basis of the arguments cited – could easily spark off a national debate, one that would draw people of all classes and ethnic origins into lively, heated and even impassioned discussion. Certainly a much livelier and more heated disputation than that over a packet of cookies. In the course of the discussion and debate, the country would be transformed into one big public forum or classroom on such questions as nationalism, colonial mentality, ethnicity and ethnocentrism.
The process of changing the name Philippines should help give further impetus to the much broader process of cultural decolonization and to the development of a more thoroughly anti–colonial and much more inclusive and popular nationalism. And it should help in rectifying historical injustices done to Muslims and other non–Christian communities, in rebuilding a truly multi–ethnic and multicultural national identity and in resolving the protracted armed conflict in Mindanao. In other words, the process would be a consciousness–raising and counter–consciousness–making exercise, vis–à–vis not just colonial but also ethnocentric thinking.
The new person that could emerge from the counter–consciousness–making would be one who has learned from, and come to terms with, his colonial past and not one who tries to gloss over it or gets bogged down ruing over it. In place of the subservience, the fawning and the self–bashing, there would be more of the assertiveness, the pride and perhaps the ironic, self–deprecatory humor. Apart from being decolonized, the new person would be more sensitive to other ethnic communities and groups, and more cognizant, tolerant and appreciative of ethnic and cultural diversity.
Since the roots of the Mindanao conflict are much more complex than terminological issues, changing the names Philippines and Filipino should only be a part of a much broader peace process involving meaningful political, economic, social and cultural changes. If not accompanied by these, name–changing would amount to nothing more than tokenism. Filipinism would change in name, but not in substance.
Even if Philippines has been the name of the islands for nearly half a millennium, replacing it may not be as difficult as it may first seem. For one, the Philippine Constitution does specifically provide a mechanism for changing the country’s name. Article XVI, Section 2 states:
The Congress may, by law, adopt a new name for the country, a national anthem, or a national seal, which shall be truly reflective and symbolic of the ideals, history, and traditions of the people. Such law shall take effect only upon its ratification by the people in a national referendum. 124
In finding a new name, there should be a lot of choices far better than names or terms that connote an ego–tripping dictator, a fictitious guerrilla unit or a big phallus. Jose B. Abletez has come up with the very worthy suggestions on how to pick a new name, based on his study of various countries’ names, to wit:
1. To honor heroes, real or mythical, e.g., Bolivia (in honor of South American liberator Simon Bolivar)
2. To convey love for freedom and independence, e.g., Thailand (“land of the free”)
3. To denote cultural or racial origins or national pride, e.g., Iran.
4. To preserve the names of old nations or territories that have been merged, e.g., Tanzania (the merger of Tanganyika and Zanzibar)
5. In memory of old places like villages, e.g., Canada (derived from Kanatta, the name of an ancient Indian village)
6. To do away with old colonial stigma or insult to national pride, e.g., Zimbabwe (formerly Rhodesia, which was named after British colonizer Cecil Rhodes)
7. To indicate popularity of local forestry resources or mineral products, e.g., Ghana (“gold”) and Brazil (a special hardwood product). 125
In the light of the multi–ethnic character of the Philippines, the case of Burkina Faso, whose citizens are called Burkinabé, may be particularly instructive. Burkina Faso has many ethnolinguistic communities, the biggest of which are the Mossi, the Peul and the Bobo. Burkina comes from the Mossis’ word for “justice” or “uprightness”. Faso is the Bobos’ term for “land”. And the bé in Burkinabé comes from the Peuls’ word for “people”. Burkina Faso thus translates as “land of the upright people”. 126
To foster greater unity among Christians, Muslims and non–Christian ethnic communities, Tiu has advocated for “reimagining” the Philippines as a national community, 127 while Arnold Azurin has proposed “reinventing the Filipino” (or more precisely, “reinventing the Filipino sense of being and becoming”). 128 Perhaps the first step in reimagining the Philippines is to change Philippines into an un–colonial and much more inclusively representative name. And perhaps the first step in reinventing the Filipino is to change Filipino.
Constantino once declared that “the only true Filipino is the decolonized Filipino.” 129 But producing a decolonized Filipino is perhaps an impossible task. Even more than “Filipino nationalism”, “decolonized Filipino” is a contradiction in terms.
http://www.cpcabrisbane.org/Kasama/2004/V1...lonialName4.htm
Several times over the past decade or so, many Filipinos, especially “Filipino nationalists”, have raised a great hue and cry over the derogatory use by Westerners – or what were viewed to be such – of the word Filipino. Filipinos strongly protested when the words Filipino, Filipina and Filipineza were defined in several Western dictionaries as “a domestic helper” or “a maid”. Filipinos were again in uproar when a packet of cookies produced in Spain and marketed in Europe carried the brand name Filipinos. Defining Filipino as a domestic helper is indeed an ugly, racist slur. On the other hand, the use of Filipinos as a name for cookies which are not made by Filipinos themselves may be as innocuous as Canton and Alaska in pancit Canton and Alaska milk, which are not products of the Cantonese and the Alaskans themselves. The common Filipino expression lutong Macao and the use of Double Dutch as the name for an ice cream being sold in Filipino supermarkets are perhaps much more politically incorrect.
But come to think of it, Filipino has for a long time – or even always – had either a pejorative or a discriminatory connotation to it. For over 300 years, the peninsular Spaniards used it to refer pejoratively to the insular Spaniards. When the mestizos and ilustrados adopted the name, they first made it an exclusive preserve for the insulares and for themselves, and excluded the lower–class indios. During the American colonial period, Filipino tended to be used only for “civilized” Christians and to discriminate against non–Christian “savages”. From the very beginning, Philippines and Filipino have always had a colonial ring to them, but most Filipinos have chosen to just gloss over this. The Muslims in southern Philippines have always been conscious of, and protested against, the colonial–ness of Philippines and Filipino, but the dominant ethnie has ignored them and are dragging them into its colonial–mindedness.
(It seems apt to make a few asides here. First, since the Spaniards invented the term filipino and were the first filipinos, why shouldn’t they put it on their cookies? Second, what an irony that an appellation like filipino (or Filipino) that was once reserved for the elite in the Philippines during the Spanish period is now taken to mean a domestic helper! And third, again what an irony that the Filipinos in Europe today suffer from what the original moros – i.e., the Moors – experienced there centuries ago: In sixteenth–century Spain and Portugal, and in Naples and Venice, the Moors were stereotyped as servants. 120)
It is time to discard the name Philippines and together with it the appellation Filipino. They are utterly colonial names, manifesting the internalization and epidermalization of inferiority of the Filipinos. They are, in fact, doubly colonial in that they identify not just with the foreign monarch who ordered the country’s colonization, but also with the white criollos who were among the indios’ direct oppressors. According to George, prolonged usage of Philippines and Filipino have no doubt dulled the Filipinos’ awareness of their incongruity and colonial character. 121 But the colonial stigma remains. Far from diminishing or erasing the colonial stigma, prolonged usage of Philippines and Filipino has in fact heightened and accentuated it: the longer the usage, the deeper has been the internalization of inferiority – to the point that one takes these terms for granted and does not think about them anymore. The colonial names have to go all the more if Filipinos take to heart what Recto himself once declared: “[T]he independence of countries such as ours cannot be complete until the last traces of colonialism have been eradicated”. 122
Apart from being colonial, Philippines and Filipino have for long periods been associated with racial, class, ethnic/national and religious discrimination. As symbols of the ethnocentric prejudices of the country’s dominant ethnie and the ethnocratic tendencies of the Philippine state, Philippines and Filipino have not served as true emblems of the nation – or the constellation of nations or ethnic groups that are supposed to comprise the present Philippines – and of national identity. Rather, they have been a factor for continuing dissension and disunity. Christian Filipinos cannot afford to keep ignoring the objections of the Muslims to Philippines and Filipino, because, as Alastair Davidson has pointed out, nations simply cannot be made as they were in the past 200 years: it is no longer acceptable for a formally democratic country to forge national unity by mercilessly erasing cultural differences and making people “forget” their own, different pre–national histories. 123
If given a good start, a new move to change the country’s name – on the basis of the arguments cited – could easily spark off a national debate, one that would draw people of all classes and ethnic origins into lively, heated and even impassioned discussion. Certainly a much livelier and more heated disputation than that over a packet of cookies. In the course of the discussion and debate, the country would be transformed into one big public forum or classroom on such questions as nationalism, colonial mentality, ethnicity and ethnocentrism.
The process of changing the name Philippines should help give further impetus to the much broader process of cultural decolonization and to the development of a more thoroughly anti–colonial and much more inclusive and popular nationalism. And it should help in rectifying historical injustices done to Muslims and other non–Christian communities, in rebuilding a truly multi–ethnic and multicultural national identity and in resolving the protracted armed conflict in Mindanao. In other words, the process would be a consciousness–raising and counter–consciousness–making exercise, vis–à–vis not just colonial but also ethnocentric thinking.
The new person that could emerge from the counter–consciousness–making would be one who has learned from, and come to terms with, his colonial past and not one who tries to gloss over it or gets bogged down ruing over it. In place of the subservience, the fawning and the self–bashing, there would be more of the assertiveness, the pride and perhaps the ironic, self–deprecatory humor. Apart from being decolonized, the new person would be more sensitive to other ethnic communities and groups, and more cognizant, tolerant and appreciative of ethnic and cultural diversity.
Since the roots of the Mindanao conflict are much more complex than terminological issues, changing the names Philippines and Filipino should only be a part of a much broader peace process involving meaningful political, economic, social and cultural changes. If not accompanied by these, name–changing would amount to nothing more than tokenism. Filipinism would change in name, but not in substance.
Even if Philippines has been the name of the islands for nearly half a millennium, replacing it may not be as difficult as it may first seem. For one, the Philippine Constitution does specifically provide a mechanism for changing the country’s name. Article XVI, Section 2 states:
The Congress may, by law, adopt a new name for the country, a national anthem, or a national seal, which shall be truly reflective and symbolic of the ideals, history, and traditions of the people. Such law shall take effect only upon its ratification by the people in a national referendum. 124
In finding a new name, there should be a lot of choices far better than names or terms that connote an ego–tripping dictator, a fictitious guerrilla unit or a big phallus. Jose B. Abletez has come up with the very worthy suggestions on how to pick a new name, based on his study of various countries’ names, to wit:
1. To honor heroes, real or mythical, e.g., Bolivia (in honor of South American liberator Simon Bolivar)
2. To convey love for freedom and independence, e.g., Thailand (“land of the free”)
3. To denote cultural or racial origins or national pride, e.g., Iran.
4. To preserve the names of old nations or territories that have been merged, e.g., Tanzania (the merger of Tanganyika and Zanzibar)
5. In memory of old places like villages, e.g., Canada (derived from Kanatta, the name of an ancient Indian village)
6. To do away with old colonial stigma or insult to national pride, e.g., Zimbabwe (formerly Rhodesia, which was named after British colonizer Cecil Rhodes)
7. To indicate popularity of local forestry resources or mineral products, e.g., Ghana (“gold”) and Brazil (a special hardwood product). 125
In the light of the multi–ethnic character of the Philippines, the case of Burkina Faso, whose citizens are called Burkinabé, may be particularly instructive. Burkina Faso has many ethnolinguistic communities, the biggest of which are the Mossi, the Peul and the Bobo. Burkina comes from the Mossis’ word for “justice” or “uprightness”. Faso is the Bobos’ term for “land”. And the bé in Burkinabé comes from the Peuls’ word for “people”. Burkina Faso thus translates as “land of the upright people”. 126
To foster greater unity among Christians, Muslims and non–Christian ethnic communities, Tiu has advocated for “reimagining” the Philippines as a national community, 127 while Arnold Azurin has proposed “reinventing the Filipino” (or more precisely, “reinventing the Filipino sense of being and becoming”). 128 Perhaps the first step in reimagining the Philippines is to change Philippines into an un–colonial and much more inclusively representative name. And perhaps the first step in reinventing the Filipino is to change Filipino.
Constantino once declared that “the only true Filipino is the decolonized Filipino.” 129 But producing a decolonized Filipino is perhaps an impossible task. Even more than “Filipino nationalism”, “decolonized Filipino” is a contradiction in terms.
http://www.cpcabrisbane.org/Kasama/2004/V1...lonialName4.htm
I can never feel true pride for who i am until my people decide to have pride in themselves! No more static thinking, just because "Filipino" is our name today, it doesnt make it right or worthy to be used! I did not even write this article, so i know other people are feeling me!
instead of trying to increase your number of posts maybe you should read once in a while! what is more important to you?
