Visayan Ethics and Philosophy.
He is the drollest little person in the world--the Filipino of the
southern isles. He imitates the sound of chickens in his language and
the nasal "nga" of the carabao. He talks about his chickens and makes
jokes about them. As he goes along the street, he sings, "_Ma-ayon
buntag_," or "_Ma-ayon hapon_," to the friends he meets. This is
his greeting in the morning and the afternoon; at night, "_Ma-ayon
gabiti_." And instead of saying, "Thank you," he will sing, "_Deus
mag bayud_" (God will reward you), and the answer, also sung, will be
"_gehapon_" (always)--just as though it were no use to look for a
reward upon this world.
You wonder how it is that he can spend his life rooted to one spot,
like a tree, passing the days in idleness. He is absorbed in his
own thoughts. If you should ask him anything he would not hear you;
he is far away in his own dreamland. You must wake him up first,
and then repeat your question several times. If you should have
instructions for him, do not give them to him all at once. A single
idea at a time is all that he can carry in his head. If he has not
been broken in to a routine, he will chase butterflies upon the way,
influenced ever by the passion of the moment. There is no yesterday
or no to-morrow in his thoughts. What he shall find to eat to-morrow
never concerns him. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.
Many mistakes have been made in the hasty judgment of the
Filipino character. Such axioms as "Never trust a native under
any circumstances;" "Never expect to find a sense of gratitude;"
"Never believe a word a native says," are only too well known in
Filipinia. The Spanish influence has been responsible for most of the
defects as well as for the merits of the native character. Then, the
peculiar fashion of the Oriental mind forbids his reasoning according
to the Occidental standards. Cause and effect are hazy terms to him,
and the justification of the means is not regarded seriously. His
thefts are in a way consistent with his system of philosophy. You are
so rich, and he so poor. The Filipino is at heart a socialist. But he
does not steal indiscriminately. If it is your money that he takes,
it is because he needs it to put up on the next cock-fight. If he
selects your watch, it is because he needs a watch, and nothing
more. The Filipino, when he transacts business, has two scales of
prices,--one for the natives, and another for Americans. He reasons
that because Americans are rich, they ought to pay a higher price for
what they get than Filipinos do. He would expect if he bought anything
from you that you would make a special rate for him regardless of
the value of the article in question. You would have to come down to
accommodate his pocketbook.
The Filipino code of ethics justifies a falsehood, especially if
the end in view should be immediate. He lies to save himself from
punishment, and he will make a cumulative lie, building it up from
his imagination until even the artistic element is wanting, and
his lie becomes a thing of contradictions and absurdities. When
questioned closely, or when cross-examined, his imagination gets
beyond control, and it is possible that he believes, himself, the
"fairy tales" he tells. Fear easily upsets his calculations, and he
runs amuck. But he will not betray himself, although he will deny a
friend three times. He may be in an agony of fear, but only by the
subtlest changes could it be detected.
The Spaniards, when they left out gratitude from his curriculum, made
up for the deficiency by inculcating strict ideals of discipline. The
Filipino never has had much to be grateful for, and he regards a
friendly move suspiciously. But he admires a master, and will humbly
yield to almost any kind of tyranny, especially from one of his own
race. The poorer classes rather like to be imposed upon in the same
way as the Americans appreciate a humbug.
In their communities the _presidente_ is supreme in power; and, like
the king, this officer can do no wrong. He uses his position for his
private ends. Why not? What is the use of being _presidente_ if it
does not profit you? I have known some who secured monopolies on the
hemp-trade by fining all who did not sell their hemp to them. Others
appropriate the public funds for entertainment purposes, and when
an inquiry is made regarding the condition of the treasury, the
magistrate expresses the greatest surprise on finding that there is
no money left. This officer, however, whatever his prerogatives may
be, is not ambitious that his term of office be of any benefit. If
he presides well at the cock-fights, it is all that is expected of
him. If he goes to building bridges over rivers that the horses easily
can wade across, the people will object to the unnecessary labor and
expense. The _presidente_ dominates the town. If he can bring about
prosperity in an agreeable way, without recourse to sudden means,
the people will appreciate him and support him, though they do not
take much interest in the elections. If the civil government can
only get good _presidentes_ in the larger villages, the problem of
administration will be solved.
Malay traditions make the Filipino proud, disdainful, and reserved--and
also cruel. Not only are the ardent sun and his inherent laziness
accountable for his antipathy to work. It is beneath his dignity to
work, and that is why he takes delight in being a public servant or
a clerk. The problem of living is reduced to simplest terms. One can
not starve to death as long as the bananas and the cocoanuts hold
out. The question as to whether last year's overcoat or straw hat can
be made to do, does not concern the Filipino in the least. If he needs
money irresistibly, he can spend one day at work up in the mountains,
making enough to last him for some time. If he can spend his money
so as to create a display, he takes delight in doing so. But paying
debts is as uninteresting as it is unpopular. The outward signs of
elegance are much respected by the Filipino. The American, to live up
to his part, must always be attended by a servant. Sometimes, when we
would forget this adjunct, we would stop at some _tienda_ and propose
to carry home a dozen eggs wrapped in a handkerchief. "What! have
you no house-boy?" the natives asked. Apparently extravagant, they
practice many petty economies at home. A morsel of food or a bit of
clothing never goes to waste in Filipinia. They imitate the Chinaman
in letting one of their finger-nails grow long.
The Filipino is fastidious and dainty--in his own way. He will
shudder at the uncouth Tagalog who toasts locusts over a hot fire and
eats them, and that evening will go home and eat a handful of damp
_guinimos_, the littlest of fish. He takes an infinite amount of care
of his white clothes, and swaggers about the streets immaculate; but
just as soon as he gets home, the suit comes off and is reserved for
future exhibition purposes. The women pay comparatively small attention
to their personal adornment. Their hair is combed straight back
upon their heads. The style of dresses never undergoes a change. The
ordinary dress consists of three important pieces--the chemise, a long,
white, sleeveless garment; the _camisa_, or the _piña_ bodice, with
wide sleeves; and the skirt, caught up on one side, and preferably
of red material. A yoke or scarf of _piña_ folds around the neck,
and is considered indispensable by _señoritas_. The native ideas of
modesty are more or less false, varying with the individual.
It might be thought that, on account of his indifferent attitude toward
life and death, the Filipino has no feelings or emotions. He is a stoic
and a fatalist by nature, but an emotionalist as well. While easily
affected, the impressions are not deep, and are forgotten as they slip
into the past. Although controlled by passion, he will hold himself in,
maintaining a proud reserve, especially in the presence of Americans. A
subtle change of color, a sullen brooding, or persistent silence,
are his only outward signs of wrath. He will endure in patience what
another race had long ago protested at; but when at last aroused and
dominated by his passions, he will throw reserve and caution to the
winds, and give way to his feelings like a child; and like a child,
he feels offended if partiality is exercised against him. His sense of
justice then asserts itself, and he resents not getting his share of
anything. He even will insist on being punished if he thinks punishment
is due him. While revengeful if imposed upon, and bitter under the
autocracy of cruelty, he has a great respect for firmness. And the
Americans would do well to remember that in governing the Filipino,
kindness should be mingled with strict discipline.
The Filipino can not be depended upon for accurate, reliable
information. His information is indefinite, as perhaps it should be
in the land of By and By. In spite of his imaginative temperament,
his cruelty to animals is flagrant. He starves his dog and rides his
pony till the creature's back is sore. He shows no mercy for the bird
that loses at the cock-fight; he will mercilessly tear it limb from
limb. In order to explain--not to excuse--this cruelty, we must again
regard the Filipino as a child--a child of the toad-stabbing age.
A little learning he takes seriously, and is puffed up by pride when he
can follow with his horny finger the religious column in _Ang Suga_,
spelling the long words out laboriously. Even the boys and girls who
study English, often do so only to be "smart." It is a clever thing
to spice one's conversation with an English word or expression here
and there.
Yet the Filipino is not altogether lazy and unsympathetic. Often
around his houses you will see a tiny patch of corn or a little garden
of green vegetables. He makes a mistake by showing a dislike for the
_camote_, or the native sweet-potato, which abounds there. Preferring
the unsubstantial rice to this more wholesome product, he leaves the
sweet-potato for his Chinese and his Moro neighbors. On every street
the sour-smelling _copra_ (cocoanut meat) can be seen spread out upon
a mat to dry. The cattle are fed on the long rice-grass (the _palay_),
or on the unhusked rice (_sacate_). A primitive trades-unionism exists
among the Filipinos; every trade, such as the carpenters' or the
musicians', having its respective _maestro_, with whom arrangements
for the labor and the pay are always made. The native jewelers are
very clever, fashioning the silver _pesos_ into ornaments for bolos,
hats, or walking-sticks. Ironmongeries, though primitive in their
equipment, have produced, by dint of skill and patience, work that is
very passable. The women weave their own cloth on the native looms,
and practice various other industries. The children are well trained
in hospitality and public manners, which they learn by rote.
While not original, they are good imitators, and would make excellent
clerks, mechanics, carpenters, or draughtsmen. Some of their devices
rather remind one of a small boy's remedy for warts or "side-ache." In
order to exterminate the rats they introduce young pythons into the
garrets of their houses, where the snake remains until his appetite
is satisfied for rodents and his finer tastes developed. Usually
the Filipino does things "wrong side out." Instead of beckoning
when he would summon any one, he motions away from himself. Instead
of making nicknames, such as Bob or Bill, from the first syllable,
he uses the last, abbreviating Balendoy to 'Doy, Diega to a simple
'Ga. They are the happiest people in the world, free from all care
and trouble. It is among the younger generation that the promise
lies. The little ones are bright and gentle and respectful--quite
unlike the boisterous denizens of Young America. The race is still
back in the fourteenth century, but the progress to be made within
the next few years will span the chasm at a single bound.
When I return to Filipinia, I shall expect to see, instead of the brown
_nipa_ shacks, bright-painted American cottages or bungalows among
the groves of palm. I shall expect to see the mountain slopes, waving
with green hemp-fields, worked by the rejuvenated native. Railroads
will penetrate into the dark interior, connecting towns and villages
now isolated. The country roads will be well graded and macadamized,
and bridges will be built across the streams. The cock-fight will
have given way to institutions more American, and superstition will
have vanished with the mediævalism. The hum of saw-mills will be
heard upon the borders of the timber-lands; sugar refineries will
be established near the fields of cane; for Filipinia is still an
undeveloped paradise. The Great White Tribe has many problems yet
to solve; but with the industry that they have shown in other lands,
they can improve, not only the material resources, but can stir the
Filipino from his dream of the Dark Ages, and point out the way of
modern progress and enlightenment.
NOTE
[1] Johnson, the runaway constabulary officer, was killed October
last by the crew of the native boat which he had captured after
the Steamship "Victoria," which he had seized, had grounded off the
coast of Negros. Four of the crew were killed during the fight. In
true brigand style he had taken the boat at the revolver's point,
and headed for the coast of Borneo. He had ten thousand dollars of
government money, and his intention was to land at various ports and
make the local merchants "stand and deliver." I gave the following
interview to the reporter of the Princeton (Indiana) "Clarion-News,"
October 16, 1903:
"'Johnson, the pirate,' is dead, and buried in the lonely isle of
Negros. Many a worse man occupies a better grave. The worst that you
can say of Johnson is, that he was wrong and that he liked to drink
too much.
"I shall always remember him in his red shoulder straps, his khaki
riding suit and leather leggings. Before I had ever seen him I had
heard the old constabulary captain say: 'That feller looks like a born
fighter. Bet he ain't afraid of anything.' ... The padre gave us a
Christmas dinner, and Johnson at this function took too much of the
communion wine. On the way back he reeled continually in his saddle,
vomiting a stream of red wine....
"We often used to race our ponies into Oroquieta neck and neck,
scattering natives, chickens, and pigs to right and left. The last I
saw of him was as he put out on a stormy sea in a frail Moro sailboat
bound for Cagayan, which at that time was infested with ladrones.
"Johnson was only a boy, but he had been a sailor and a soldier,
and had seen adventures in the Canary Islands, in Cuba, and the
Philippines. The boat that he held up and started off to Borneo was one
employed in questionable trade. She was a smuggler, and had formerly
been in the service of the 'Insurrecto' Government. She used to drop
in at a port at night and pull out in the morning with neither a bill
of lading nor a manifest.
"Johnson should not be blamed too much for the wild escapade. The
climate had undoubtedly affected him; moreover the constabulary has
no business putting heavy responsibilities upon young boys."