Why we dance on the real Philippine Independence Day

Workers prepare the Emilio Aguinaldo Shrine where Philippine independence from Spain was proclaimed in Kawit, Cavite province, Philippines on Monday, June 10, 2024. The revelry surrounding Philippine Independence Day, which falls on June 12, stretches far beyond the Southeast Asia archipelago. Millions of Filipinos across major US cities, as well as Europe, Australia, and even the United Arab Emirates, will be able to find parades, street fairs, galas and other gatherings close to home. (AP Photo/Aaron Favila)

I saw something on Facebook where my dear friends in the DC area were inviting me to a celebration of Philippine Independence.

I will be on the West Coast, but it was my first reminder of the annual event.

What can be said about June 12 that hasn’t been said before?

Most of us will celebrate Filipino Independence Day throughout the weekend since June 12 coming mid-week is inconvenient for most of us who generally are not free from our wage slave bosses and modern colonial obligations (irony of ironies).

But it should work out quite nicely with the coincidence of Father’s Day, which should satisfy the most ardent and modern Filipino multi-tasker/consumer.

Not only can you commemorate the real Independence Day, you can also honor the man behind it all.

You mean Diosdado Macapagal who issued Presidential Proclamation No. 28 declaring June 12 Philippine Independence Day?  Macapagal, the father of the somewhat disgraced former President Arroyo?

Well, he is a dad and should be celebrated a little on Father’s Day for birthing something. But for June 12th, he’s just a footnote, a few steps removed from US officials who originally gave the Philippines independence on – of all days – July 4th.

Just like Big White Brother. That’s not independence.

No, June 12 is the special day, the real Independence Day when Filipinos stuck it in the eye of America and all the colonials.

This is the day Filipinos came out of their “go along to get along” shell of passivity and essentially, went amok.

The Filipinos declared themselves free.

And all it took was Emilio Aguinaldo to declare it.

Amid the music and food celebrations planned in our Filipino communities we must not forget Aguinaldo, often depicted as a sad-faced man with the black string tie.

Aguinaldo’s the man who declared Filipinos free from colonial rule as an independent nation on June 12, 1898, and is quite rightly the father of Filipino independence. It’s funny how it came about.

The Philippine Revolution actually began in 1896 against Spain. Those of us with Spanish last names and Catholicism in the heart bear the stamp of that colonial rule. But the revolution against Spain failed, and Aguinaldo went into exile in Hong Kong.

The Philippines would still be a backdrop for war, between the US and Spain, and that’s the strange twist of fate here.

When the US defeated the Spanish in Manila Bay, it set up Act II for Aguinaldo. He was allowed back into the country where Aguinaldo declared independence from— Spain.

But Spain, which lost to the US didn’t recognize it.

And neither did the new boss, the US government.

Aguinaldo’s declaration became the basis for a new war, the often forgotten Philippine-American War.

If history is said to be written by the winners, there’s something to be said about a war America won – but doesn’t care to crow about.

When the memory only produces shame and regret, you can understand why.

Such is the fate of the Philippine-American War, first known as the Philippine Insurrection.  It’s a war the US seems to intentionally de-mythologize and forget because it’s a reminder of a time when America’s dreams of imperial greatness got in the way of its democratic values.

Aguinaldo’s declaration was the precursor to it all. And he’s the reason the war is worth remembering.

Yet his main event remains for most people – especially Americans – the forgotten war.

Said John Sayles, director of “Amigo,” in 2011, about the war itself: “(The US) didn’t even make a lie about it.”

That’s because the truth is damning enough.

The war began on February 4, 1899. The first shots came in a Manila suburb, when American soldiers shot at “the goo-goos,” perhaps the least offensive term used for the Filipinos, and indicative of the racist tone in the war. The nationalists returned fire, and the sequel to the Spanish-American War was under way.

Insurrection doesn’t begin to describe the full-fledged war that lasted three years with more than 100,000 Americans involved. Depending on the accounts you read, the Filipino civilian death toll ranged from 250,000 to as high as 1 million casualties from disease or starvation.

The war was an American betrayal. Nationalists, under Aguinaldo, had broken off from Spain and, relying heavily on a promise of US support during the Spanish-American War, started their own independent republic in 1898 — the first in Asia.

That promise was broken when the McKinley administration sought the Philippines as a colony and tapped into a new patriotic fervor for American Imperialism.

Some historians believe McKinley instigated the Philippine-American war to gain support in Congress to ratify the Treaty of Paris. That’s where the US dealt with Spain directly, cutting out the new Philippine leadership. Instead of becoming the independent country it had hoped for, the Philippines was ceded by Spain to the US for $20 million. Aguinaldo went from president to insurrectionist, just like that.

But it created yet another justification for the heroics of Aguinaldo and the nationalists. And it fueled the fervor behind what we call the Philippine-American War, but what is really Aguinaldo’s War. He declared independence for us. He fought and defended it for us.

After more than 300 years of Spanish rule, it is our original taste of freedom.

As a Filipino, wherever you may be, just remember that  if and when you dance this weekend, this is why you dance.

Emil Guillermo is a journalist, commentator and comic monologist. He writes a column for Inquirer.net’s US Channel. Contact him on www.amok.com