Looking Back : The coming of the mandarins
Ambeth Ocampo aocampo@ateneo.edu
Inquirer News Service
IF you make a survey of Philippine history from ancient times to the present, you will notice that the late 19th century is covered by a lot of research and writing. We have thousands of years of history and yet the period from 1872, when martyr priests Gomez, Burgos and Zamora were executed, to 1896, which covers the execution of Jose Rizal and the beginnings of the Philippine Revolution, and then to 1898, when Emilio Aguinaldo was in a position to declare independence from Spain, takes up all the attention.
Roughly a period of 25 years becomes the fulcrum of our entire history. How come we know so little about pre-colonial life or even the four centuries of Spanish rule? Surely, there is much that we can learn from or at least enjoy as stories in this period.
The other era that is studied is the 20th century, particularly the lives and times of Filipino political leaders from Manuel Luis Quezon to Joseph Estrada (unless, of course, you wish Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo were history as well). Here political history is the focus, thereby obscuring other things we can learn in terms of social, economic and cultural history. If only history is taught in its fullness and complexity, perhaps students would not dread the subject and be armed with perspective.
In school, I learned about the great Chinese revolt of 1603, one of many that would plague the Spaniards so much that we were told the Chinese were forced to stay in a ghetto called the Parian, outside the gates of Intramuros, where the present Post Office and Metropolitan Theater now stand, and that the cannons of the city were permanently aimed at and ready to fire on the Parian at the slightest sign of unrest.
There are so many accounts of the 1603 revolt from different angles, they make absorbing reading. We have the names of major participants from the Spanish Governor-General Pedro Bravo de Acuña to a Chinese resident named Eng Kang who was converted and baptized Baptista de Vera (the surname came from the governor-general at the time of his baptism). Eng Kang was said to have been one of the pirates left behind by Limahong who almost took over the Philippines. More interesting was that Eng Kang was allegedly a kept man, having "served the pirate for a lewd purpose." Now that I leave to the imagination.
The story actually begins with the arrival of three mandarins from China on May 23, 1603, sent by Emperor Wan Li to verify reports regarding a "mountain of gold" in Cavite. Perhaps the emperor should have inquired more discreetly because the high-profile visitors gave rise to rumors that China was planning to take over the Philippines. That would have been the case if the Cavite golden mountain did exist, but it was just another urban legend. The mandarins returned to China with the bad news that no gold or silver could be found in Cavite, and the courtiers who had brought this tale to the emperor's ear were executed in 1604.
From the Spanish eyewitness account of the visit, the mandarins were quite a spectacle traveling on sedan chairs carried on the shoulders of four men. They had archers as bodyguards and even had two men carrying a porcelain box suspended from their shoulders that allegedly contained their "chapas," the seal of document of their authority. Behind them traveled their secretary on horseback. The rest of the party was described as follows:
"Before them go in file six Sangleys with staves upon their shoulders, on the ends of which are white tablets with characters of gold, which is said to be [their] insignia. Six other Sangleys carry little banners of different colors, with characters written upon them in Chinese tongue, which are said to indicate the great authority and wide jurisdiction of said mandarins. One Sangley, who they say is a minister of justice, bears a piece of cane as thick as one's arm, lacquered in black. Among these goes a Sangley with two small kettledrums and four others with canfonias and other musical instruments which they use, all of them playing. Before all these people go six Sangleys, two of whom carry two iron chains, which are said to be put on those whom they are ordered to arrest; two others carry two cords tied to sticks upon their shoulders, which are said to be used to tie those whom they are ordered to flog; the other two, who are called upos, which is the same as executioners in España, bear two half-canes four fingers wide and a 'braza' long, with which they flog the delinquents, whom they wish they could kill with a few strokes. Between these go two Sangleys each one of whom cries in his own language, from time to time, with loud shouts; and it is said that they are calling out: 'Make way, the mandarins are coming,' and as soon as they come out of the house and until they return these cries are kept up..."
Today, motorists complain of high-handed security escorts of government minions. In the 17th century, people complained of the Chinese mandarins and their escorts.
This was but one irritant. And as one rumor led to another, the city's defenses were beefed up, the Chinese in Manila were maltreated and on Oct. 3, 1603, the feast of St. Francis, Tondo and Quiapo burned. Intramuros survived but the aftermath left thousands of Chinese dead.
Why did this happen? What lessons do we learn from it? Those are not in our textbooks.
