A Past Revisited, Connecting the Dots, part 17
The Untold Narrative at the Dewey Monument, Union Square
Visitors to Union Square in downtown San Francisco may observe the inscriptions on the Dewey Monument, which recount the American victory at the Battle of Manila Bay through a serialized narrative style reminiscent of contemporary television dramas. Each inscription leaves an impression akin to a cliffhanger, designed to sustain engagement.
East Side Inscription: “Secretary of the Navy John D. Long to Commodore George Dewey April 24, 1898 / War was commenced between the United States and Spain. Proceeds at once to the Philippine Islands and capture and destroy Spanish fleet.”
West Side Inscription: “On the night of April Thirtieth, 1898, Commodore Dewey’s squadron entered Manila Bay and, undaunted by the danger of submerged explosives, reached Manila at dawn on May First, 1898. Attacked and destroyed the Spanish fleet of ten warships. Reduced the forts and held the city in subjugation until the arrival of the troops in America.”
For American readers, the phrase “Reduced the forts and held the City in subjugation until the arrival of the troops in America” implies a likely U.S. occupation or annexation of the Philippines, marking a major shift in colonial control from Spain to the United States.
From the perspective of Filipinos and Filipino Americans, this “cliffhanger” prompts critical reflection. During my education in Philippine public schools, these historical episodes were omitted from textbooks. I first encountered the date August 13, 1898, when I heard Amado Hernandez’s poem recited during student activism before the declaration of Martial Law. It was only later, as a history major at the University of the Philippines, that I came to fully appreciate the significance of August 13, 1898, as a pivotal moment shaping both Philippine national and American history.
From the Battle of Manila Bay on May 1st, staged encounter (AKA Mock) Battle of Manila on August 13, Treaty of Paris on December 10, 1898, to the beginning of the Philippine American War (AKA Philippine Insurrection) on February 4,1899 revealing the deceptive nature of the U.S.'s promises of liberation and democracy, and hitting the manifest destiny and benevolent assimilation.
I regard the Dewey Monument in Union Square as a meaningful touchstone for understanding the interwoven histories of the United States and the Philippines, the Filipino diaspora, and our community’s position within American society.
Below, I share the impactful poem by Amado Hernandez in Tagalog and its English translation by Co-Pilot.
Kung Tuyo na ang Luha Mo, aking Bayan
Lumuha ka, aking Bayan; buong lungkot mong iluha
Ang kawawang kapalaran ng lupain mong kawawa:
Ang bandilang sagisag mo’y lukob ng dayong bandila,
Pati wikang minana mo’y busabos ng ibang wika,
Ganito ring araw nang agawan ka ng laya,
Labintatlo ng Agosto nang saklutin ang Maynila,
Lumuha ka, habang sila ay palalong nagdiriwang,
Sa libingan ng maliit, ang malaki’y may libingan;
Katulad mo ay si Huli, naaliping bayad-utang,
Katulad mo ay si Sisa, binaliw ng kahirapan;
Walang lakas na magtanggol, walang tapang na lumaban,
Tumataghoy, kung paslangin; tumatangis, kung nakawan!
Iluha mo ang sambuntong kasawiang nagtalakop
Na sa iyo’y pampahirap, sa banyaga’y pampalusog:
Ang lahat mong kayamana’y kamal-kamal na naubos,
Ang lahat mong kalayaa’y sabay-sabay na natapos;
Masdan mo ang iyong lupa, dayong hukbo’y nakatanod,
Masdan mo ang iyong dagat, dayong bapor, nasa laot!
Lumuha ka kung sa puso ay nagmaliw na ang layon,
Kung ang araw sa langit mo ay lagi nang dapithapon,
Kung ang alon sa dagat mo ay ayaw nang magdaluyong,
Kung ang bulkan sa dibdib mo ay hindi man umuungol,
Kung wala nang maglalamay sa gabi ng pagbabangon,
Lumuha ka nang lumuha’t ang laya mo’y nakaburol.
May araw ding ang luha mo’y masasaid, matutuyo,
May araw ding di na luha sa mata mong namumugto
Ang dadaloy, kundi apoy, at apoy na kulay dugo,
Samantalang ang dugo mo ay aserong kumukulo;
Sisigaw kang buong giting sa liyab ng libong sulo
At ang lumang tanikala’y lalagutin mo ng punglo!
This is the English translation, courtesy of co-pilot.
When your tears have dried, my country,
Cry, my Country; cry with all your sorrow
For the poor fate of your land, so wretched:
Your flag, once proud, now cloaked by foreign colors,
Even the language you inherited, enslaved by another,
On this very day, your freedom was snatched away,
August 13, when Manila was seized.
Cry, while they arrogantly celebrate,
In the grave of the small, the big has a grave;
You are like Huli, enslaved by debt,
You are like Sisa, driven mad by poverty;
No strength to defend, no courage to fight,
Wailing, if killed; crying, if robbed!
Cry for the heap of misfortune that enveloped you,
That for you is suffering, for foreigners is nourishment:
All your wealth, exhausted,
All your freedom, ended at once;
Look at your land, foreign armies watch,
Look at your sea, foreign ships in the deep!
Cry if the purpose in your heart has faded,
If the sun in your sky is always at dusk,
If the waves in your sea no longer surge,
If the volcano in your chest does not roar,
If no one will keep vigil in the night of awakening,
Cry and cry for your freedom is in mourning.
There will be a day when your tears will be drained, dried,
There will be a day when tears will no longer be in your swollen eyes
What will flow, if not fire, and fire the color of blood,
While your blood boils like steel;
You will shout with all your might in the blaze of a thousand torches
And the old chains will be broken by bullets!