Brains of the Nation: Pedro Paterno, T. H. Pardo De Tavera, Isabelo De Los Reyes and the Production of Modern Knowledge

by Resil B. Mojares

This is a richly textured portrait of the generation that created the self-consciousness of the Filipino nation.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Literary Criticism, Academic

565 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2008

About the author

Trained in literature and anthropology, Resil B. Mojares won several National Book Awards from the Manila Critics Circle for works in fields as diverse as literary criticism, urban and rural history, and political biography.

He has been a recipient of prizes for his short stories, a national fellowship in the Essay from the UP Creative Writing Center, and teaching and research fellowships from the Ford, Toyota, and Rockefeller foundations, Fulbright Program, and Social Science Research Council (New York).

He has served as visiting professor at the University of Wisconsin, University of Hawaii, and University of Michigan.

He teaches at the University of San Carlos in Cebu City.

Reviews

[Annabelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Judging by its front and back covers, and confirmed by the reading of the book, we Filipinos had a wealth of "brains of the nation," a phrase coined by our National Hero Jose Rizal; Dr Mojares focused on the three most prolific intellectuals, and the ones least given credit for: Pedro Paterno, Trinidad Pardo de Tavera, and Isabelo de los Reyes. To my limited knowledge, prior to delving into the book, Paterno was a street in Manila, Pardo the brother-in-law of Spoliarium artist Juan Luna, and I had never heard of de los Reyes.

Among the three, Pedro Paterno is hands down, easily the most fascinating character. Wealthy, learned, cultured, and an egoistical dreamer with "almost unlimited capacity for self-delusion," Paterno fancied himself a prince of the realm. Both realms, in fact--an indio living the life of a "Spanish grandee" whilst "entertaining the Spanish literati" at his residence akin to a "museum of antiquities" in Madrid, Spain, aka the motherland, and a preening, self-styled "Prince of Luzon" back home, sporting the airs and accoutrements that came with being born to supreme privilege in the Philippines, aka the homeland. ("Lord of a country that was largely a creation in his own mind," in August 1897, Paterno and his manservant left Manila for Biak-na-Bato to look for Emilio Aguinaldo, head of the revolution. The circuitous trek of five days, with twenty porters taking turns carrying Paterno in a hammock.)

But Maguinoo Paterno was also a tireless and enthusiastic slave to many muses and whimsy, engaged in artistic, literary, and scholarly pursuits, and somewhat Quixotic sociological endeavors championing a "confluence of Spanish and Filipino ideals." Scorned and shunned as a political and social dilettante by more circumspect and reserved peers like Pardo and Rizal, Paterno today appears in Philippine educational textbooks primarily as a poet, playwright, and writer of the first Filipino novel, Ninay (1885). Other books denigrate him as a traitor to his country, an accusation that is understandable, given that he sincerely saw "no contradiction between his love for 'motherland' (patria) and 'homeland' (hogar). They are one." Indeed, Paterno looked forward to the day "when Filipinos and Spaniards can say 'We are of one blood' (Somons los del sangdugo)," concluding "We desire and can be Spaniards, with honor and dignity." Needless to say, Spain's recent rollout of the Ley de Memoria Democrática, which allows the children and grandchildren of Spanish nationals to apply for Spanish nationality, would have pleased Excelentísimo Señor Paterno no end.

Over a decade ago I read the gripping, infuriating Rage!: Juan Luna/Antonio Luna/Trinidad Pardo de Tavera by Alfredo R. Roces. So focused was I on the events that led to the murders, my familiarity with Trinidad Pardo de Tavera starts and ends with his role in the tragedy that ends with the cold-blooded deaths of his mother and sister in the hands of his friend and brother-in-law, Juan Luna.

A respected physician, linguist, philologist, historian, botanist, librarian, and scientist, Pardo, like Dr Jose Rizal, was an esteemed man of many hats, a polymath. In fact, "Jose Rizal is reported to have remarked that, for his linguistic works, T.H. Pardo de Tavera deserved to appear ahead of him in encyclopedias of intellectual achievement." Pardo was a progressive driven to seek knowledge, and a compulsion to share that knowledge with his fellow man, with education and the economy the central concerns in his last years. "Across shifts in interest, his work is always driven by an earnest passion for cultivating rationality as a way of understanding (and changing) a country and making it a part of the modern world." "From the time he published his first book in 1884 to his death in 1925, T.H. Pardo de Tavera tirelessly applied himself to the life of the mind."

"Pardo defined the enemy as ignorantismo," and was a champion of women's rights, calling for "greater educational opportunities for women, increased social participation, and the correction of discriminatory laws in matters like marriage and property rights." Echoing the words of Rizal, who proclaimed "There is no Pope who can resurrect what common sense has executed," Pardo despised the "narrow and medieval" Spanish education that "focused on producing pious Christians and docile colonials," pointing out how "the erosion of reason produced subjects prey to immorality, dependent on divine patronage, and infected by that 'leprosy of superstition' which is 'one of the strongest causes of criminality, of corruption, formation of individuals who are useless and detrimental to society.'" Note that this latter statement attacking church-dominated education was part of a major essay which Pardo delivered to an assembly of teachers in 1920!

An unabashed Americanophile, Pardo "embraced the public school system as the most dramatic benefit introduced by the Americans." He wanted his sons "to be educated in America so that they may be Americans." He himself wished to spend some time in the U.S., which belied a desire to learn American social and political principles which, upon returning to the Philippines, would be useful in advancing civilization in the country.

Reading about him now, I realize history has not been fair to Trinidad Pardo de Tavera. Perhaps because of his refined, European features, his French upbringing, and his continental, courtly bearing and stoicism, "Filipinos themselves did not quite embrace him," a mixed blood native of the Philippines, "as one of them," a fact Pardo was well aware of, and "lamented as pernicious the distinction made by some nationalists between so-called 'Filipinos in face and at heart (cara y corazon)' and 'Filipinos at heart alone." Sigh. Pardo, had he the political inclination and personality for it, epitomizes most of our what-could-have-beens.

At first blush, Isabelo de los Reyes seems an anomaly here. Unlike Paterno and Pardo, who were educated, and enlightened, so to speak, in Madrid and Paris, de los Reyes is a purely homegrown, local talent. Given his tumultuous, sometimes simultaneous careers in politics, journalism, and literature, and his forays as editor, printer, Philippine folklorist, labor activist, political exile, Spain's Montijuich Castle detainee, church co-founder, senator, and presidential candidate, de los Reyes is a man who has lived many lives, but one whose pioneering efforts in tenacious journalism and fair labor practices are still felt today. Indeed, "Isabelo de los Reyes was no gentleman-scholar in the mold of Pedo Paterno and T.H. Pardo de Tavera. Neither was he an intellectual of the type of Jose Rizal, who was monastic in his habits and exilic in temperament. Denizen of an urban, mercantile environment, Isabelo combined commerce, the letters, and politics. He did it as an indio and provinciano working in race-conscious, socially conservative, and politically repressive Manila. His performance is not always coherent but it is a remarkable performance nevertheless."

I delved into this book expecting a scholarly, exceedingly academic, and boring read. How enlightening to be proven wrong.

[Josh · Rating 5 out of 5]

It must be that I shelved this book due to its mention in one of Richard Heydarian's podcasts early last year. At that point, I was already well-acquainted with Rizal, and from about two decades of schooling, I have accumulated near enough acquaintance with the other ilustrados—Bonifacio, Del Pilar, the Lunas, among others. One thing to which I attest Mojares' "Brains of the Nation" proves right is how the likes of Paterno, Pardo, and de los Reyes were erased from the collective memory of the Filipinos. And for myself, Mojares has thankfully restored this knowledge.

Pedro Paterno's name was probably familiar from my reading of Rizal over the years, but more particularly when I read Guerrero's "The First Filipino". I wasn't even aware of the scorn his name drew. And who knew that T. H. Pardo would be one of those who survived Juan Luna's violent outburst in Paris? In the last two years, I saw an opera about the fateful night and visited the Ayala Museum to see "Hymen, oh Hyménée!". Prior to listening to frequent mentions of his name by Heydarian and Ronald Llamas, the only vestige of Isabelo de los Reyes that I would glimpse perhaps just as frequently was the National Cathedral of the Iglesia Filipina Independiente. All this prior knowledge would be fleshed out as I read through "Brains of the Nation".

Mojares presents three biographies in one and he must be writing for the contemporary Filipino. His book assumes that the reader has already learned about the history of the time, particularly about the ilustrados, Rizal most prominent among them. At the end of the book, after writing about the three, is where one may find his thesis. Mojares presents encyclopedic mastery of the historical context. While his prose can sometimes be a mouthful, it is digestible for someone like myself who partook of the book leisurely rather than academically. While I like to think I am easily spurred by Filipino-nationalist works of art and literature, I can confidently say that it was due more to lack of intent than anything else that "Brains of the Nation" failed to spur the ilustrado or revolucionario in me. I would hazard saying that this is, in my meagre understanding, evidence of Mojares' erudition.

I see now that this book may have been one of Heydarian's sources of inspiration for his plans to give more eminence to lesser-known ilustrados such as Paterno, Pardo, and de los Reyes among others who were also mentioned in the book, such as Hermano Pule and Pedro Pelaez (one would do well to recall or discover that they were also featured in Pepe Diokno's "GomBurZa"). I agree with Mojares and see merit in Heydarian's efforts: these people, like the more widely-known ones, may very well have something to teach us today.

Like Paterno, I recognise the struggle of locating oneself in the midst of those endowed with arbitrary advantages. Like Pardo, I see the value in unlikely cooperation if it can be believed that the end is the greater good. Like de los Reyes, I understand how one cannot be beholden to a single calling but rather pursue it when it calls to you, even at the expense of your current endeavour. But this is how I chose to perceive and relay the gist of their lives from the book, definitely there are more substantial lessons.

I purchased a paperback print from Page 394, which was without blemish and, other than being a bit too heavy sometimes, was perfect for my purposes.

[Jason Friedlander · Rating 5 out of 5]

I feel like I've been saying this a lot over the past few months, but I think this is a book that everyone from the Philippines needs to read, perhaps above all others, even just for the sliver of a possibility that it emboldens one to emulate the luminary paths laid out by these figures eroded by history's harsh light, shadows that linger beneath the word "Filipino".

[Solihin]

Resil Mojares’ Brains of the Nation is an exhaustive and exhausting survey of three intellectuals from the Philippines who were all active around the late nineteenth to early twentieth century. The trio are united by Mojares based on their roles in the “production of modern knowledge” whose “modernity” and its synonymity with Western entanglements Mojares tries to problematise. Pedro Paterno, T. H. Pardo de Tavera and Isabelo de los Reyes all gestured towards the notion of a distinctively “Filipino” episteme in their respective domains, though through Mojares’ illustrations of their different lives, interests, and affiliations, it appears that such an extrication is perhaps easier said than done.

Notorious for being a turncoat and described by Mojares as a “symbol of the class that betrayed the Philippine Revolution” (3), Paterno is readily the most Europeanised figure of the bunch. Although Paterno’s methodology of choice is considered to be philological (“he selects and invents key native terms, breaks them down to their letters and vocables, and unlocks the concepts they contain” 53), this linguistic analysis is described as Kabbalistic, whose “hermeneutics of verbal signs seems more sixteenth century in its mystical elements in the primitive roots of words,” (70). Worse still, it is said that Paterno “does not even balk at inventing data” (51). In any case the colonialist contours of his project are palpable because tellingly, “virtually all of his annotations on Philippine life are extracts from European authors” (45). The examples Mojares provides to prove this ranges from Paterno’s framing of “aboriginal and Tagalog cultures in evolutionary terms invoking Lamarck and Darwin, stating that various groups have been stranded at different evolutionary stages” (58) that comes across as eugenicist to his ardent faith in Christianity as a representation of “the most advanced stage in the history of religion” (50) embodied by a book which “extoled Christianity’s exalted role in the march of civilisation,” (9). Only “against the background of racist, colonialist denigrations of Filipino culture” could Paterno’s claims it for “distinctness, comparability with other cultures in the world, and a dynamic history antedating Spanish colonialism” (45) be deemed remarkable but his significance seems to be mostly ceremonial (however ground-breaking) and ultimately skin deep.

Meanwhile, Pardo is made up to be a middleman who “articulated to Americans the aspirations of the Filipino people and interpreted to Filipinos the design of the United States,” (180) at least trying to straddle the local and the colonial. Despite “criticis[ing] those who wrote on native psychology not in its own terms but according to other cultural standards,” (197) for instance, he was very much stimulated by French intellectual life with the possibilities of rebuilding society and culture. Grounding himself locally by positioning himself as “Filipino” in the late-nineteenth century sense, his argument that “what the nationalists sought to conserve was in fact an Hispanic-colonial culture that needed to be renovated if the country were to modernize” (221) points to the fact that he does not take such inherited identities for granted yet is dedicated to repositioning and revitalising such referents to suit the current political climate. A similar move to think through local tradition rather than around it is seen in Isabelo’s desire to “‘de-primitivize’ folklore by focusing on its living presence in the Philippines of his own time, expanding the ‘folk’ to include the ‘popular’ such that the workings of an irrational colonial bureaucracy are as much the people’s lore as a Tinguian ritual,” (354). Local tradition is therefore neither exoticised nor fossilised and forms a living, part of the present moment. Furthermore, Pardo is definitely not as fawningly Eurocentric as Paterno, as well as far from a would-be eugenicist, considering how he posits that national divergence “always results from the idea of race,” (199).

A recurrent problem that the trio encounters according to Mojares is them having to work “without an indigenous corpus of written philosophical treatises, law books, and literary texts” (75), Mojares’ own voice does not quite cut through his detailed portraits of these three individuals but in depicting his subjects' voluminous lives, he succeeds in arguing for a multifaceted and complicated relationship with colonialism in their attempts to propose autonomous Filipino modernities.

[Robin Angelo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Introduction
In Brains of the Nation: Pedro Paterno, T.H. Pardo De Tavera, Isabelo De Los Reyes, and the Production of Modern Knowledge, Resil Mojares traces the lives and works of these eponymously-named historical figures to ground them within the greater context and discourse of Philippine intellectual history.
The work contains four parts, each subdivided into three monographs. As it is a secondary source, it draws upon the extant writings of Paterno, de Tavera, and de los Reyes, as well as correspondences, records, articles, ephemera, and other scholarly resources by the likes of Emma Blair & James Robertson, Ferdinand Blumentritt, Wenceslao Retana, Jose Rizal, and other personages too numerous to mention here.
As Mojares explains in the Preface, the project was grounded in the lives of these figures for the following reasons:
The most immediate is personal inclination: I am more comfortable with local, human detail, and the narratives into which lives can be shaped, rather than the philosophical investigation of disembodied ideas. The second is the need for a biographical archive since the three men in this study are obscured figures whose careers have not been fully studied and whose works are now mostly unread. The third is a theoretical afterthought. At a time when so much scholarship is (Western) theory-driven, it is wise to recall novelist N.V.M. Gonzales who… warned, “an imagination – a sensibility – that emerges out of a Third World environment must fend for itself, for it is easy prey to the rabid charity of other worlds.” (ix)
Hence, Mojares strives to uphold the most objective views possible of Paterno, de Tavera, and de los Reyes, careful not to glorify or vilify them to polar extents. In other words, he humanizes these neglected figures once more to Philippine intellectual history, believing that their stories contain valuable insight into the creation and emergence of Philippine nationalism, local knowledge production, and clashing ideals set against the backdrop of Spanish colonization.

On Pedro Paterno
Throughout his interrogation of the life and works of Paterno, Mojares organizes his arguments around the following themes – his political leanings and self-idolatry, nationalist attempts via the development of pre-colonial Philippine perspectives throughout his writings, and questionable (and outright erroneous) scholarship related to his nationalist attempts.
Reviled and maligned as a rabid Hispanista, Paterno, Mojares implies, has reason to earn the scorn of Filipinos, in particular for mediating the Pact of Biak-na-Bato, using it as leverage to advance his interests and manipulate the situation depending on the parties with which he comes into contact (3-4, 19-23). In that regard, he is a turncoat who maintains his distance and observes the political climate to gauge whether it is best to switch sides with the Filipinos or Spaniards, as exhibited above. Moreover, as Mojares paints it, he often conducts himself with the air of a latter-day Don Quixote/Sancho Panza, which shows in his vain attempts to convince the Americans with his so-called ‘rhetoric’ and ‘intellectual prowess’ that he could reach a compromise with Spain and the Philippines (23-36).
Most notable perhaps is Mojares’ treatment in forwarding that Paterno has, in some respects, attempted to excavate any evidence surrounding a ‘Philippine civilization’ before the Spaniards, and his work forms “an index to the interest in nationalist identity among late nineteenth-century Filipinos…” (43). That is because in Antigua Civilizacion Tagalog (and other subsequent writings from that point onward), Paterno fashions and refines an evolutionary framework outlining the history of las islas Luzonicas (Philippines) divided into ‘mythological’ and ‘historical’ periods, with the latter subdivided into the following epochs – aborigines (about the Itas/Aetas), civilizacion tagala (Tagalog civilization), and civilizacion catolica (Catholic rule under the Spaniards) – with his academic pursuits hailed to mixed reception (Mojares 46-68), which will form the concluding point.
However, the most glaring aspect of Paterno’s nationalist attempts, Mojares notes, could only be attributed to his anchoring of theories about an idealized pre-colonial Philippine society in European knowledge (69). Paterno has consistently isolated Western concepts of language, civilization, and religion, utilizing them as the fundamental basis for his theories on Tagalismo, Tagalog society, and the like in a manner a la Frankenstein, with his research models aping that of European discourses (Mojares 69-77). As such, Mojares contends that Paterno’s oeuvre comes across as Orientalist as he does not contribute substantial knowledge to advance our understanding of pre-colonial Philippine society. On the contrary, he embellishes the truth with the fantastical and exoticizes the ordinary to make himself and his work appear grand to draw unwanted (if accidental) attention to himself.

On T.H. Pardo de Tavera
Meanwhile, on the subject of de Tavera, Mojares discusses the following aspects of the historical figure – his sociopolitical distance from the Philippines, his decision to depart from Spanish modes of thought in favor of more progressive Western intellectual movements (i.e., United States), and nationalist attempts via erudition (excavating the underlying messages in primary sources) and critical historical analysis of pre-colonial Philippine societies contextualized within colonial circumstances.
Mojares implies that de Tavera has not managed to fit the mold of either Spaniard or Filipino, as it was challenging for him to embrace his Spanish heritage owing to his disillusionment with colonial abuses and even his Filipino side owing to native suspicion and alienation because of his status as a creole of mixed descent (121-160). It is for reasons of his outsider status that have allowed him to take refuge in scholarship, viewing colonial issues with cold but necessary objectivity, as he explains in a late keynote speech:
The cultured Filipinos represent not only their own interests but those of the popular masses who look up to them for leadership. This trust places upon us a tremendous responsibility, and obliges us to always tell the truth and nothing but the truth. I shall be deeply sorry if, in complying with this obligation, I will incur the censure of the public; for I speak not to please people but to be useful to them even when I displease them. (160)
However, it would be equally important to note why de Tavera and his contributions met contemporary nationalist historians with indifference and contempt. For that reason, Mojares stresses that while his works are better than Paterno’s by a considerable margin (as he draws primarily from local sources and not Western references) and that his works and efforts set on a focused social change – a “scientific patriotism” instead of a “sentimental patriotism” (195) – his reputation suffers because of his staunch Americanism and deep ties to the Taft Commission and that while he rejects Spain, he succumbs to America, and has therefore replaced one colonizer for another – which, in Teodoro Agoncillo’s view, is reason enough for why he “should have been shot for his betrayal of the Revolution” (121).
And on the subject of de Tavera’s nationalist attempts, Mojares notes that his work surrounding Philippine paleography, histories, botany, and medical writings bear the hallmark of ideas inspired by the Enlightenment as it has stimulated him “with the possibilities of rebuilding society and culture on a scientific basis” (215). While these pretexts appear European to an extreme, de Tavera is at once careful to ground his arguments within the appropriate primary sources and his colonial circumstances to provide more insights into how pre-colonial Philippine society came into being.

On Isabelo de los Reyes
Moreover, about de los Reyes, Mojares angles his profiles and primary source analyses of the figure on the following dimensions – on his affinity with the native Filipinos, nationalist attempts via the emphasis on imbuing local consciousness in writing, and his internal and external conflicts in politics and religion.
Essentially, Mojares contends that de los Reyes’ actions are in the service of his people – that because his pamphlets and writings exist to challenge colonial systems and liberate the native consciousness and that he was equally as charismatic and sympathetic with common folk as he was shrewd, unpredictable, and spontaneous with the elite with whom he collided with on occasion (Mojares 287-288). This aspect of de los Reyes, Mojares notes, stems from his relationship with his uncle, poet-playwright and lawyer Mena Crisologo, for whom he has worked as a copyist in his formative years, which “must have introduced the young man to the possibility that there were spaces and means for critically engaging colonial power” (256).
Moreover, de los Reyes “remind[s] us that the Propaganda Movement was as much a local as a diasporic phenomenon” (Mojares 289) as he employs local knowledge in reconstructing suppressed pre-colonial realities, thereby making his efforts the first of a series of truly-nationalist undertakings committed to a localized Enlightenment phenomenon. While Mojares acknowledges that his methods and models somewhat echo that of Western schools of thought (297-337), he applies mostly native concepts and references wherever he should (for instance, his constant mentions of Ilocos, etc.), acknowledging that “The history of the Philippines suffers from contradictions, and it is necessary to patiently compare one and the other, investigating the truth with a serene and impartial spirit” (297).
However, ultimately, Mojares concludes with de los Reyes that if not for his latter reputation as a historical figure enmeshed in shoddy political and religious ambitions, his memory would not have suffered as much in contemporary Philippine history. And Mojares (by way of Wenceslao Retana) aptly summarizes the above realization with the following passage:
For Retana, Isabelo is the overreaching native, archetype of the ambitious, half-baked Pobletes e Isabelos who are “infected with the two great defects of the indios,” vanity and ingratitude. Cultivated by Spanish patrons, Isabelo’s character and limited capacity corrupt what he has learned and prevent him from advancing any further… Recalling Max Muller’s statement that “we cannot fix the precise point at which the ape ended and man began,” Retana says that in Isabelo it is impossible to determine the exact point where the “poor wretch” was transformed into the hypocritical “little politician.” (341)

On the Filipino Enlightenment
To connect the observations and analyses gathered from the following historical figures, Mojares presents the following cases for our consideration – the colonial versus local influence on Philippine knowledge production and narratives, the rise of the Philippine intelligentsia, and the state of Philippine intellectual history today.
Paterno, de Tavera, and de los Reyes and their works embodied local and colonial influences. Although prone to conflated ego and fabulism anchored on Orientalist motives, the first sparked the interrogation of a pre-colonial Philippine past. The second, while occasionally motivated by American-sponsored politics, charted pre-colonial writing systems, local flora and fauna, and medicine with an unparalleled objectivity and scientific rigor admired by Rizal and other ilustrados. Finally, while trapped in gadfly tactics against Spain and socioreligious motivations, the last seeks to consciously incorporate local ideas, concepts, and theories in Philippine knowledge production.
Moreover, while noteworthy in their efforts as ilustrados, Paterno, de Tavera, and de los Reyes were only a blip in the collective rise of an educated class of natives, whose concepts and ideas they imported from Europe and elsewhere formed the pretext for social reforms and subsequent revolution against centuries of Spanish abuses.
Unfortunately, as Mojares laments, Paterno, de Tavera, and de los Reyes remain neglected by our contemporary historians and, as such, remain largely mysterious and elusive in Philippine intellectual history. However, as Mojares has made a book of monographs about these largely unstudied figures, he hopes to challenge the view that they and their oeuvres do not have a place amid dominating nationalist sentiments – that Paterno, de Tavera, and de los Reyes should be there, not as figures to be demonized for incompetence or for betraying the revolution, but as figures from whose flaws we could learn the consciousness of a nation waiting to be born, wanting to break free from its colonial moorings.

*Note: This book review was written as a requirement for my History 110 (Colonial Philippines I) class.

[penguinetales · Rating 4 out of 5]

Resil Mojares my guy 🤲

[Elmiejane Remocaldo · Rating 5 out of 5]

How to read?

[Niño Manaog Saavedra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sa Brains of the Nation: Pedro Paterno, T. H. Pardo De Tavera, Isabelo De Los Reyes and the Production of Modern Knowledge ni Resil Mojares, tinunton kan mahigos na Cebuano scholar na ini an mga agi-agi kan nasabi nang tolong ilustrado na kontemporanyo ni Jose Rizal kadtong turn-of-the-century Philippines.

Susog ki Mojares, sa dakilang balimbing na si Pedro Paterno asin sa siyentipikong si Trinidad Pardo de Tavera masisipat kan iskolar an mga klase nin pag-ako kan mga Pilipino sa kolonyal na mananakop na Kastila sagkod Amerikano.

Susog ki Mojares, ano an dalan na inagihan ni Paterno? Ngonyan na panahon, dai man nanggad siya bisto sa pahina kan satong kasaysayan apwera na siya an sinasabing Dakilang Balimbing sa istorya kan banwang Filipinas.

Ipinangaki na Chinese mestizo, nag-istar si Paterno asin nag-adal sa Espanya; nakiamigo sa mga maimpluwensyang Kastila; dangan nabuhay sa Espanya sa kwarta kan pyudal na palakaw kan saindang mga kadadagaan digdi sa Pilipinas. Kan mawa'ran na nin poder an Kastila na haloy man na panahon niyang inadalan, sinerbihan dangan linangkaba, nagpakupkop tulos si Paterno sa mga impluwensya kan mga Amerikano asin ta nagin pang tagapamayo kan Malolos Congress dangan miembro kan First Philippine Assembly.

Arog ni Rizal, halangkaw an pinag-adalan ni Paterno; alagad ta an gabos niyang napag-adalan iyo man sana an nagpugol saiyang dai maghulagpos hali sa poder kan regimeng Kastila.

Saro man na maray na linalang na luminakaw sa daga si Trinidad Pardo de Tavera. Kan siya nagin doktor pagkatapos mag-adal sa Pransya, dakul an sainyang nailagda na mga publikasyon bako lang manongod sa medicina, kundi patin sa mga aspeto historical kag kultural kan satong bansa.

Alagad siring man kan ibang miembro kan mga landlord class kaidtong panahon, asimilasyon sana kan kultura kan mananakop an muya ni Pardo de Tavera asin bako man nanggad totoong katalingkasan kan Pilipinas. Palibhasa edukado kan Sulnupan an duwa, dai ninda malikawan an gabos na pinag-adalan na naglalangkaba sa banyaga asin an sociedad na saindang ma'wot na dai marumpag. Kan uminarabot an mga Amerikano, dai sinda nin ibang alternatibo kundi mag-arang, magluhod, magsamba sa bagong kagrogaring kan banwa.

[Gabby Gagno · Rating 5 out of 5]

From the get-go, the scope of this book is nothing short of impressive. It describes, through focusing on three scholars that aren't Rizal, del Pilar, or Jaena, the various ways through which the development of Filipino nationalism progressed and how even it was--to borrow from Henri Lefebvre--a contested space as well. Mojares skillfully shows the milieu in which the Filipino nation was born. Through these three case studies, he was able to demonstrate how the ilustrados of the 19th century was able to articulate--or, imagine--the Filipino nation from virtually nothing.

His discussion of Philippine intellectual history from the late 16th century towards the early 20th century is also remarkable. He described the stages in which Filipinos articulated their nationalism particularly during the American period. I think his discussion of "official nationalism" opens up (and has indeed opened up) a lot of avenues for discussion.

I have always recommended this book to my classes on Philippine history, and I also reference this work a lot in my lectures.

[Anijun Mudan-udan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dun taini ha kagpanulisuli hi Resil Mojares, na maaha ta ha kena iyan un laus su natun-an ta duun hu batbat hu kagbataa hu Pilipinas. Na hingan-an ka hu kagbasa taini ta maayad su kagbalaya hi Mojares hu mga lalang din. Isab pa duun ha mahagbet tamana su mga saluyong din hu impormasyon aman masulisuli nu daan ku amin bugat hu mga igpatana din.

[Franchesca · Rating 5 out of 5]

The scope of knowledge in this book is simply astounding. Covered the important things as well as the nooks and crannies of Philippine history, particularly the nineteenth century, the Philippine revolution, and the first years of American colonization.