Culture in national development

MANILA, Philippines - Exploring the nexus between culture and national development before an audience of artists as distinguished as this is a self-flagellation of sorts, if not an intellectual hara kiri altogether.  And yet, our current situation provides a compelling milieu for a collective re-examination of this issue.

 According to social scientists, a nation is a by-product of fiction — a community forged from, and made real by, a sense of affinity among a people.  A nation does not exist on its own in the manner that any living matter does. 

 The reality of this proposition is verifiable from history.  Every nation — from the greatest empire to the newly liberated — cannot trace its beginning to an immemorial past.  Every nation owes its existence to an implied agreement among peoples to live united under a common set of aspirations and values.  It is that agreement — not land constituting its territory, or the anointment or election of a ruler — that makes a nation.  The survival of a Polish nation at one point in history despite the absence of a land on which to assert its territorial sovereignty attests to this truth.   

 Indeed, it is the sense of belonging of a people that creates and keeps a nation intact, the same affinity that allows countless of our countrymen living abroad constituting the Philippine diaspora to believe themselves still tied to this country; the very affinity that has kept them from renouncing their birthright, no matter how tyrannical or exploitative some of their previously elected leaders turned out to be.

 But while a collective sense of affinity can create and keep a nation, it cannot, by and of itself, catapult one into greatness.  Affinity may keep people collectively patient, persevering and docile – as was the alleged state of affairs in the long years of Spanish rule before the revolution.   But the assertion of greatness by a people requires something more than affinity.  It requires the imagination of a multitude, inspired by the genius and courage of a few.  The events of 1896, and then again of 1986, taught us that.

Brief encounter: Freddie Alquiros, a collector of Garibay paintings, brings one of his acquisitions to the studio.

 1896 was an expression by a people, who for 333 years have been coached to be an inferior race, of their capacity to imagine themselves better than what they were forced to be.  That inspired collective expression traces its roots to the genius of a few individuals we now hail as heroes such as Jose Rizal, Andres Bonifacio, Juan Luna and a few others. 

 Although happening almost a century after, 1986 presented a similar narrative. 

 It would ofcourse be wrong to claim the People Power revolution to be the handiwork of one woman, or even of his martyred spouse.  It is in fact the achievement of an entire people who endured the cruelty of the leaders and the system upon which they ironically pinned their hopes for a better future.  However, neither is it possible for us to deny that such an achievement was birthed because of the story of a family, sharing the atrocities experienced by many other families under martial rule, which percolated into our national consciousness.

 These revolutionary events place inspiration and imagination at the core of attempts at building a great nation.

 Unfortunately, our capacity for imagination is constrained by, among others, our incapacity to remember our past.  As a people, we are quick to forget the greatness of our predecessors.  This collective national amnesia limits our ability to imagine our own future, because it deprives us of a history that should otherwise inspire our present generation to aspire for greatness.

 The need to be constantly reminded of the greatness of our past compelled us in the local government of Quezon City to establish public monuments and shrines.  Through these edifices, we sought to pay homage to our heroes such as Jose Rizal, Tandang Sora, Sen. Ninoy Aquino, General Licerio Geronimo, among others, and to put in the public consciousness the greatness of our predecessors as well as our glorious achievements as a people. 

 Admittedly, the public spaces devoted for historic and cultural purposes in the city — and elsewhere in the country for that matter — may still be relatively few compared to those found in advanced economies.  But the effort, modest as it may seem, sends a clear message: that we are in short supply of cultural projects critical in instilling pride in our own history and culture, not of achievements in which our heroism shine. 

 That message is, hopefully, one that is familiar to you. 

 As artists, your role is to inspire our nation to greatness. 

 In the 1884 Madrid Exposition of Fine Arts, Juan Luna’s “Spolarium” and Resureccion Hidalgo’s “Virgenes cristianis expuestas al populacho” ( or “Christian virgins exposed to the mob”) won gold and silver medals, respectively.  Historians claim that in the celebration of Luna and Hidalgo’s triumph, Rizal articulated that “genius knows no country”. 

 Luna and Hidalgo’s twin triumph engendered pride in the indio.  But Ambeth Ocampo argues that Rizal’s homage spawned an epiphany, a realization that our predecessors were no less than their colonizers, and that they must not be treated so.

 The artists of this generation inherit this dual burden of expressing the genius of our race, and of asserting the greatness of 93 million Filipinos before a global population of seven billion people.  Upon every artist rests the duty of instilling not only pride in our people, but more importantly, that sense of entitlement to something greater than what we have at present.

 The right to expression is guaranteed by our Constitution, not solely for the enjoyment of the person who wields and exercises it but also, and perhaps more importantly, because it serves an inherent social good.  That social good is the affirmation that our national DNA bears the imprint of the greatness of genius.  And it is guaranteed to everyone to encourage as widely as possible the manifestation of such genius. 

Senator Edgardo Angara and the author, National Artist F. Sionil Jose

 For only through its manifestation — in forms as diverse as literature, painting and visual arts, music and dance, film and motion pictures, architecture and design, weaving and crafts and countless others — do we remind ourselves and our people that we are imbued with the talents, skills, the ethos, and the requirements for the building of a great nation.  Only through the manifestation of perfection do we teach our countrymen that we, as a people, deserve nothing less.

 Upon artists also devolves the duty of criticism — the obligation to courageously depict reality and to bring to the fore of consciousness that which is unknown, concealed, denied or even forgotten. More importantly, you have the responsibility to force a confrontation with the truth, in the same manner that Rizal did through Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo.   

 Through criticism, artists shed light on what is wrong with our society and jolt us into action.  And by expressing the best in our culture, artists not only fasten the bonds of our nationhood; they also rouse our nation to greatness. 

 Without doubt, artists assume a vital role in the development of our nation.  And for that, they deserve recognition, and more importantly public support.  We did — and we continue to do so — in Quezon City.  Since 2002, we have been recognizing artists and writers through the annual awards for outstanding citizens.  We have also included in the city’s public education curricula a program for young writers. 

 But these programs implemented in the city have yet to find resonance throughout the country.  Culture and the arts are normally the first to suffer from the scarcity of public resources.  And sadly, scarcity in public finance is the rule not only in many LGUs but in the entire national government.

 To address this problem, the House of Representatives is considering the imposition of an equity fee to foreign artists who perform in the country, the proceeds of which shall be allocated to the National Commission on Culture and the Arts.  (This proposal is embodied in House Bill No. 281 authored by Rep. Roilo Golez).  We are also studying proposals to provide tax breaks to local films and to other artistic endeavours.  Lessening the costs heaped on these productions should promote more quality artistic endeavours.

 The chair of the House Committee on Basic Education and Culture has also sponsored a bill creating the Filipino Academy of Arts, Letters and Philosophy.  The Academy is envisioned to encourage and promote researches in Philippine arts, culture and philosophy.

 These measures reflect a realization on the part of the present generation of lawmakers that our artistic and historical wealth, as well as our cultural heritage, are essential in rousing us to believe in our collective worth, and to imagine and fulfil – for us and the generations after us -- the great nation that we are destined to become.

(Speech delivered by Speaker Sonny Belmonte at the 150th Rizal Anniversary Conference on Nation and Culture, held on Dec. 3 at the Bulwagang Pambansang Alagad ng Sining, Cultural Center of the Philippines.)