Luzon at War: Contradictions in Philippine Society, 1898-1902

by Milagros C. Guerrero

Mila Guerrero’s Luzon at War, first written in 1977, grew out of a world in motion seeking to understand another earlier era of radical turmoil. Its findings helped lay the groundwork for the emergence since the 1980s of new ways for understanding the historical roots and unresolvable contradictions of the Philippine Revolution.

The book puts forth a series of questions about the colonial origins of the nation, the tensions between State and society, the role of the intelligentsia, and the resistance of ordinary people that successive generations of scholars are still seeking to come to terms with. It remains arguably the most astute critique of the first Philippine Republic, laying bare many of the sources of today’s political and social problems.

Genres: History

327 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1977

Reviews

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

I queued this book as a follow-up to my viewing of the Bayaniverse¹ last year. I saw Lav Diaz' "Magellan" before that and, not too long prior, I saw Pepe Diokno's "GomBurZa". My last Filipiniana read was "Noli" last Easter and Mojares' "Brains of the Nation" prior. Mila Guerrero's "Luzon at War" provides important context to all of the events mentioned in these works, and more importantly to the state of affairs across Luzon surrounding the Philippine Revolution.

Guerrero makes a landmark addition to the historiography of the Revolution, having accounted for the breadth of extant contemporary work even those of her colleagues. I'm reminded now of the backlash faced by Tarog for the depiction of historical figures across his Bayaniverse. Descendants of Aguinaldo or Quezon published their feedback. Absent the embellishments and dramatisation, "Luzon at War" brings into question not only Aguinaldo's positive, nationalistic legacy, but that of his ilustrado compatriots. One reads this book and wonders why there hasn't been similar backlash.

It was fitting that I finished this book right after commemoration of the 40th anniversary of the EDSA Revolution. I went there to witness and take photos. And I was disappointed by the seeming stubbornness of the left, liberal, and progressive factions of government and civil society in efforts to unite against the entrenched elite of the administration and the feral dogs of the Duterte bloc. Now that the principal venue for mass action was in a single location³, they have still managed to remain divided. The leftist bloc marched to the EDSA Shrine while liberal factions arrived and remained at White Plains avenue near the People Power Monument.

At the EDSA Shrine, progressive and leftist groups called for reforms echoing peasant grievances that followed soon after the messy political reorganisation post-Revolution. Through public consultations by Congress, a majority of Filipinos today reject political dynasties², resembling how the masses found patronage, abuses of power, corruption, and maladministration detestable. Guerrero draws connections between the Spanish colonial administrative systems and those adopted by the ilustrado-led government that took the reins after the Revolution. One now wonders what the lines look like between then and the debacle we Filipinos witness from government today.

It is difficult to exit this reading without lamenting over how the masses were denied livelihood and dignity when opportunistic Filipinos picked their properties—swathes of land—as though they were their garden flowers. As the protesters at the EDSA Shrine have demonstrated this week, this denial continues today. Near the end of my reading, I was reacquainted with a song I discovered last year. Artista ng Rebolusyong Pangkultura (ARPAK) released the album "Walang Panginoon ang Lupa" in 2021, including a song titled "Bubunga ang punla na tinanim ng kasaysayan" translating roughly to "The seedling planted by history shall grow". Let's indulge a juxtaposition one might now glean from this review so far.

On the one hand, the evil abuses of power imprinted upon Filipino society by the Spaniards through mass extraction and indoctrination left its mark. But perhaps on the other hand, from within the scars of colonialism, the seeds of discontent if not revolution shall indeed grow. Where there is an imbalance of power, it seems that sparks are bound to alight. And at some point, there alights a spark far brighter and far more destructive that it inverts the imbalance.

GomBurZa presented a brief depiction of the peasant-led, millenarian movements that scattered throughout Central Luzon around the time of the Revolution. Guerrero dedicates about an entire chapter to flesh out a more complete story about these movements, which I greatly appreciate. It was marvellous to witness how Filipinos deferred to faith as anchors, as motivations to act against powerful forces. In more than one occasion, these movements stymied the entrenchment of these powers, until of course the arrival of the Americans, whose powers would become insurmountable.

I hesitate to imitate the millenarianism of the movements then. Surely not one person can evoke liberation from powers-that-be. Such a belief is admirable, but not very helpful when push comes to shove and then lives are at stake. Perhaps this hesitation makes me more inclined to a more pragmatist view of seeking improvements of the system. While I find myself in increasing solidarity with mass action rather than purely epistemic contribution or, worse, political apathy, I'm under no pretence that such an action will be sufficient to inspire reform. Able people in government funnel inspiration from these movements to enact concrete changes. More such people can work to this end by vote. Is it milleranianism to look forward to radical change? Why does a broad united front seem radical at this point, when to me it seems more necessary, more urgent than anything?

Guerrero drew clear limitations to this work prior to her presentation. Remembering my viewing of Magellan tells me how much I don't know about the Spanish colonial administration across those three centuries. The Bayaniverse reminds me how much I have yet to know about the Commonwealth era of Philippine government. Therefore, after Luzon at War, one is left wanting for parallel analyses of events in Visayas and Mindanao and elaborations of what came after.

I read this book in its Kindle version. The various typographical errors often distracted my reading, the extent of which warrants that I deduct a star from an otherwise perfect review.

1.) That is: the collective name for Jerrold Tarog's biopic for Antonio Luna, Gregorio del Pilar, and Manuel Quezon.
2.) Anti-dynasty bill tested through ‘consultations’ (Inquirer); more than half of Filipinos say it is unacceptable for Senate candidates from the same family or political dynasty to run together in the same election (WR Numero).
3.) In the September 21 and November 30 rallies, the movements were inevitably separated into two: Luneta and EDSA.

[John Ray Catingub · Rating 4 out of 5]

Guerrero's "Luzon at War" continues a historical assessment similar to Joaquin's "A Question of Heroes" and exposes the realities of the underbelly of the Philippine Revolution. Meticulously researched, its heavy use of primary sources give a greater insight into the turn-of-the-century struggles amongst and through Filipinos, especially by way of regionalism, and against the contemporary Americans and historical Spanish. I appreciated the lengthy bibliography at the conclusion of the book which not only lends credibility to Guerrero's writing but points the way to more historical reading needed to understand the revolution in a deeper sense. Although a minor inconvenience, there were many typos; I'm not sure if these were in the author's original dissertation or if these were introduced in the typesetting of the book.

[emil · Rating 3 out of 5]

okay-ish perspective, not much new info and frustrating formatting