June 12, 1898: Philippine Independence Day

Today is Independence Day in the Philippines. On this day in 1898, Filipino revolutionary Emilio Aguinaldo declared independence from 300 years of Spanish rule during the Spanish-American War. The Americans came to the islands to expel the Spaniards, but turned around to become the Filipinos' next colonial ruler and exporter of the island country's rich natural resources. Despite the declaration of independence, Filipino rebels fought for their country in 1899, in what was to become the Philippine-American War, with which few Americans are familiar. In the Treaty of Paris, Spain ceded the Philippines to the U.S. for $20 million. It was not until after World War II that the Philippines finally gained their independence.

I first read about the little-known Philippine-American War when I was researching the history of the Philippines for my first novel-in-progress, A Village in the Fields. My main character, Filipino farm worker Fausto Empleo, left his homeland to come to America to "change his luck," which is what my father wanted to do when he left his coastal hometown of San Esteban, Ilocos Sur, in the early 1920s. The turn of the century in the Philippines was and still is an incredibly fascinating time. The exhilaration of freedom was soon stamped out by shock and betrayal. This was a war that was not acknowledged, an unofficial war. It was a war that helped determine the 1900 presidential election of incumbent William McKinley and anti-imperialist William Jennings Bryan. It has been later called the first Vietnam War for the torture that American soldiers inflicted on innocent civilians. It is a war that I will be returning to in my fiction writing.

In honor of Philippine Independence Day, here is an excerpt from Chapter 2, "What was left behind," of A Village in the Fields:

When Fausto reached the second floor, he saw a candle glowing in his lelang's bedroom. She was usually asleep by this time. He hesitated before pulling the crocheted curtain aside, but she was sitting up, waiting for him. He sat on her bed, inhaling the musty, bitter scent of betel nut mixed with lime from her lips and red-stained teeth.

"Lelang Purificacion," he said, "Pa will not give me his blessing."

"If he did not love you, he would let you go without a care. You should be honored by the burden of his love," she said, and sighing, stared out her window, the capiz-shell shutters wide open. "When you are in America, you must remember him and forgive him. Better to be hurt by his love than to be all alone with nothing."

"What about you, Lelang? Will you try to change my mind?”

She pursed her lips as if she had swallowed something more bitter than betel nut juice. Tiny wrinkles fanned out from her mouth. "I have a story to tell you. It is not my intent to change your mind. I tell you this now because I do not want you to be ignorant.”

He laughed. “Lelang, I am going to America to gain knowledge."

She kneaded her fingers. Veins, like thick twine wrapped around her fist, warped the shape of her hands. "Do you know the date June twelfth, eighteen ninety-eight?"

"Independence Day," Fausto answered. "The Americans helped us defeat the Spaniards. Miss Arnold taught me about the Americans' involvement."

She pulled her shawl over her shoulders. "There was another war after the Spaniards were removed, but you will not find it in any American history books. Your father was too young to know what was happening in the lower provinces and on the other islands – we do not talk of the bad times – but I told him years later, when he could understand. He never forgot, but now you will make him think of it all the time."

To read the rest of the excerpt, go to The Dress at 50 (www.thedressat50.com) or click on this link.