Manila landmarks 1900
July 23, 2005 | 12:00am
No matter what happens on July 25, Monday, the day GMA is delivering her SONA (or Sayonara! as the polls show many would have it), Manila will survive. It has survived over 400 years of war, pestilence, politics, and natural disasters. After each disaster, man-made or natural, the city has managed to pick itself up. Buildings were rebuilt, streets repaved, and landmarks resurrected.
This was the situation at the turn of the 19th century. The city had still not recovered fully from the Filipino revolution when it was thrust into the middle of the Filipino-American war. Despite the resistance of the Filipinos, the Americans sought to rebuild the city quickly, knowing that a rebuilt capital would be a strong symbol of, and venue for projecting, their imperial power.
The Yanks did not have to start from scratch. The city of over 200,000 souls had been built with Filipino sweat into one of the chief cities of Asia. Numerous landmarks survived the Filipino-Spanish-American war, among them:
• Churches, cathedral, and convents of the city. In Intramuros, there were 17 of these; most notable (mainly because they survived World War II) were San Agustin and the Manila Cathedral (actually demolished because of the extensive war damage and rebuilt in the late ’50s). Both almost did not make it into the 20th century because of a series of devastating earthquakes in the late 19th century. The San Agustin church lost one bell tower while the cathedral followed suit but managed to be rebuild for the new century. Outside, the churches of the arrabales (suburbs) of Manila survived and soon faced bursting attendance as the city’s population increased. Some expansions were better than others, but what mattered was that most of these renovations were sympathetic to the original architecture of these structures. There was an aesthetic continuity and respect for surrounding public spaces – the plazas – that modern renovations often fail to address.
• Bridges of the city. The old Puente España (Bridge of Spain), Puente Colgante, and Puente Ayala were the only bridges at the turn of the century. Most other crossing was done by ferry. The Bridge of Spain lasted the first decade of the new century before being replaced by the Jones Bridge while the Colgante suspended its demise by another four decades, being replaced in the late ’30s by the Quezon Bridge.
• Open fields. Much of Manila beyond Binondo and Luneta were open fields planted to rice and vegetables (for the city). These fields became the campos de battala (fields of battle) of the Filipino-American War. Today, the battle of territory continues as orchestrated by mayors on opposite sides of the political divide.
• Escolta. The Escolta was already the premier shopping street of the city even in the Spanish colonial era. The shops were housed in bahay na bato structures with wide awnings to shelter shoppers from the sun and rain. Horse-drawn omnibuses were introduced along with horse-drawn tranvias as the Spanish hold loosened on the city. Still, commerce hardly skipped a beat on this street and would continue to do so till half a century later.
• Big guns. Reminders of the war just ended and the "insurgency" still ongoing were plenty in fin de seicle Manila. The big Spanish guns (that were never fired against Admiral Dewey’s ships) still poked their ominous orifices out seaward. Cannonballs were stacked close by as if to provide an image of strength and success in the imperialist experiment for many postcards and illustrations sent states-side. But the Spanish hardware was obsolete against the Yank’s ironclad dreadnaughts. By the ’30s, the colonial government armed Corregidor similarly with even more gigantic big guns that were themselves obsolete by the time the Japanese launched their air-borne assault.
• Luneta. This wide promenade was the ultimate show-off public space. At dusk every day, the elite and the hoi poloi gathered to enjoy the stunning Manila sunset. The elite in their carriages went around the Roman circus-like track clockwise. Only the governor general and the archbishop were allowed to travel against the flow. Intermittently, diversion was provided by summary executions.
• Muelles. At the turn of the century, goods were off-loaded from ships anchored off-shore and carried on cascoes (lighters) to several muelles (quays) on the south and north banks of the Pasig River. Until the early 20th century, small masted ships could come beside some of these quays near the mouth of the river. Today, a number of them have been resurrected as promenades by Mayor Lito Atienza.
• Malacañan. The summer house-turned-official residence of the chief administrator of the colony survived the revolution and the war to become the "palace" of the American governors general and every Philippine president (deserving or otherwise) to this day. It survives as the "seat of executive power" even though there were several attempts to relocate our White House elsewhere.
• Tiendas. Sprouting on every street corner were instant mini-restaurants serving everything form snacks to full meals. The Americans were amazed that such small enterprises could thrive. Today, micro-enterprises survive as a means to earn a meager living given the failure of government to improve the lot of the average city dweller.
• War damage. Like scenes from modern-day Iraq, Manila was a landscape of pockmarked facades and collapsed buildings after the two wars at the turn of the century. When the city finally erased this pervading texture of destruction in the ’30s, it wouldn’t be long before war would again turn the city into a wasteland of death and destruction.
Manila has indeed survived the last century despite the Spanish-American-Filipino war, the Second World War, and two People Power upheavals. It may not, however, survive another quarter century if pollution is not abated, blight erased, traffic rationalized or sanitary landfills found for the 6,000 tons of garbage produced every day.
The city and its burgeoning population may not survive if affordable housing is not provided, floods are not eliminated or crime suppressed. Indeed, the very fact that the elite who called Manila home are escaping to gated enclaves 50 kilometers away shows how dire the situation is – especially since the less-privileged sectors of society are following suit.
We may as well join the bandwagon of those resigned to the fact that unless we change the way we live and build the institutions of our lives (and the structures that house them) we will be doomed to repeat the never-ending cycle of boom and bust, the dagdag-bawas of the quality of our lives that fate has sentenced us to.
Our lapse of communal judgment would be if, as citizens of this once great metropolis, we once again succumb to expediency in addressing the state of our urban lives trading short-term fix-ups (u-turns, color-coding, jeepneys, squatter improvement projects, dumping garbage into esteros and the Pasig) for longer-term solutions (high-density high-rise housing estates, eliminating jeepneys, establishing a metropolitan government, creating public parks).
If we do not act now to save our landmarks and to rescue our city, then we will all soon be truly sorry.
Feedback is welcome. Please e-mail the writer at paulo.alcazaren@gmail.com.
This was the situation at the turn of the 19th century. The city had still not recovered fully from the Filipino revolution when it was thrust into the middle of the Filipino-American war. Despite the resistance of the Filipinos, the Americans sought to rebuild the city quickly, knowing that a rebuilt capital would be a strong symbol of, and venue for projecting, their imperial power.
The Yanks did not have to start from scratch. The city of over 200,000 souls had been built with Filipino sweat into one of the chief cities of Asia. Numerous landmarks survived the Filipino-Spanish-American war, among them:
• Churches, cathedral, and convents of the city. In Intramuros, there were 17 of these; most notable (mainly because they survived World War II) were San Agustin and the Manila Cathedral (actually demolished because of the extensive war damage and rebuilt in the late ’50s). Both almost did not make it into the 20th century because of a series of devastating earthquakes in the late 19th century. The San Agustin church lost one bell tower while the cathedral followed suit but managed to be rebuild for the new century. Outside, the churches of the arrabales (suburbs) of Manila survived and soon faced bursting attendance as the city’s population increased. Some expansions were better than others, but what mattered was that most of these renovations were sympathetic to the original architecture of these structures. There was an aesthetic continuity and respect for surrounding public spaces – the plazas – that modern renovations often fail to address.
• Bridges of the city. The old Puente España (Bridge of Spain), Puente Colgante, and Puente Ayala were the only bridges at the turn of the century. Most other crossing was done by ferry. The Bridge of Spain lasted the first decade of the new century before being replaced by the Jones Bridge while the Colgante suspended its demise by another four decades, being replaced in the late ’30s by the Quezon Bridge.
• Open fields. Much of Manila beyond Binondo and Luneta were open fields planted to rice and vegetables (for the city). These fields became the campos de battala (fields of battle) of the Filipino-American War. Today, the battle of territory continues as orchestrated by mayors on opposite sides of the political divide.
• Escolta. The Escolta was already the premier shopping street of the city even in the Spanish colonial era. The shops were housed in bahay na bato structures with wide awnings to shelter shoppers from the sun and rain. Horse-drawn omnibuses were introduced along with horse-drawn tranvias as the Spanish hold loosened on the city. Still, commerce hardly skipped a beat on this street and would continue to do so till half a century later.
• Big guns. Reminders of the war just ended and the "insurgency" still ongoing were plenty in fin de seicle Manila. The big Spanish guns (that were never fired against Admiral Dewey’s ships) still poked their ominous orifices out seaward. Cannonballs were stacked close by as if to provide an image of strength and success in the imperialist experiment for many postcards and illustrations sent states-side. But the Spanish hardware was obsolete against the Yank’s ironclad dreadnaughts. By the ’30s, the colonial government armed Corregidor similarly with even more gigantic big guns that were themselves obsolete by the time the Japanese launched their air-borne assault.
• Luneta. This wide promenade was the ultimate show-off public space. At dusk every day, the elite and the hoi poloi gathered to enjoy the stunning Manila sunset. The elite in their carriages went around the Roman circus-like track clockwise. Only the governor general and the archbishop were allowed to travel against the flow. Intermittently, diversion was provided by summary executions.
• Muelles. At the turn of the century, goods were off-loaded from ships anchored off-shore and carried on cascoes (lighters) to several muelles (quays) on the south and north banks of the Pasig River. Until the early 20th century, small masted ships could come beside some of these quays near the mouth of the river. Today, a number of them have been resurrected as promenades by Mayor Lito Atienza.
• Malacañan. The summer house-turned-official residence of the chief administrator of the colony survived the revolution and the war to become the "palace" of the American governors general and every Philippine president (deserving or otherwise) to this day. It survives as the "seat of executive power" even though there were several attempts to relocate our White House elsewhere.
• Tiendas. Sprouting on every street corner were instant mini-restaurants serving everything form snacks to full meals. The Americans were amazed that such small enterprises could thrive. Today, micro-enterprises survive as a means to earn a meager living given the failure of government to improve the lot of the average city dweller.
• War damage. Like scenes from modern-day Iraq, Manila was a landscape of pockmarked facades and collapsed buildings after the two wars at the turn of the century. When the city finally erased this pervading texture of destruction in the ’30s, it wouldn’t be long before war would again turn the city into a wasteland of death and destruction.
Manila has indeed survived the last century despite the Spanish-American-Filipino war, the Second World War, and two People Power upheavals. It may not, however, survive another quarter century if pollution is not abated, blight erased, traffic rationalized or sanitary landfills found for the 6,000 tons of garbage produced every day.
The city and its burgeoning population may not survive if affordable housing is not provided, floods are not eliminated or crime suppressed. Indeed, the very fact that the elite who called Manila home are escaping to gated enclaves 50 kilometers away shows how dire the situation is – especially since the less-privileged sectors of society are following suit.
We may as well join the bandwagon of those resigned to the fact that unless we change the way we live and build the institutions of our lives (and the structures that house them) we will be doomed to repeat the never-ending cycle of boom and bust, the dagdag-bawas of the quality of our lives that fate has sentenced us to.
Our lapse of communal judgment would be if, as citizens of this once great metropolis, we once again succumb to expediency in addressing the state of our urban lives trading short-term fix-ups (u-turns, color-coding, jeepneys, squatter improvement projects, dumping garbage into esteros and the Pasig) for longer-term solutions (high-density high-rise housing estates, eliminating jeepneys, establishing a metropolitan government, creating public parks).
If we do not act now to save our landmarks and to rescue our city, then we will all soon be truly sorry.
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