Corporate Watch
By Amelia H. C. Ylagan
Why did the great Filipino painter, Juan Luna, choose to paint the Spoliarium with its “bloody carcasses of slave gladiators being dragged away from the arena where they had entertained their Roman oppressors with their lives?” (Guerrero, León (1974). The First Filipino: A Biography of José Rizal)
In José Rizal’s speech toasting Luna for winning his first gold medal (out of three) at the Exposición Nacional de Bellas Artes in 1884, Rizal said the Spoliarium “embodied the essence of our social, moral and political life: humanity in severe ordeal, humanity unredeemed, reason and idealism in open struggle with prejudice, fanaticism and injustice (Ibid.)” Historical writer León Ma. Guererro said Luna’s painting inspired Rizal’s social novel Noli Me Tangere, calling it “the Latin echo of the Spoliarium (Ibid.).”
The awesome Spoliarium (4.22 m. x 7.675 m. or 13.8 ft. x 25.18 ft.) hangs in the National Museum of Fine Arts in Manila, silently but sternly warning all of the evils of war and conflict, and the pathos of the conquered and even of the conquerors.
In Rome, the ruins of the Colosseum (70-80 A.D.) stand to remind generations of unlearning humanity how from 50,000 to 80,000 leery spectators perversely watched to-the-death gladiator contests and public spectacles such as Luna depicted in the Spoliarium.
Then it may not sound so incongruous that architect and urban planner Felino “Jun” Palafox, Jr. thinks the ruins of Marawi City should just be left as they are, “as a historic memorial of how terrorism could wreak havoc on a community (Philippine Daily Inquirer [PDI], 10.21.2017).” He recommended to the officials of Lanao del Sur that “the damaged buildings, especially those full of bullet holes” can be retained as a lesson for the future, while the places of worship, education and significant buildings will be rehabilitated for the community to continue its day-to-day life amidst the ruins that will not allow the past to be forgotten (Ibid.). Yes, it might be like a silent tableau of the pain, sorrow and guilt of war — a Spoliarium in Marawi.
President Rodrigo Duterte visited Marawi on Oct. 17 and announced its “liberation” after the key leaders of the May 23 siege, Abu Sayyaf leader Isnilon Hapilon and Omarkhayam Maute, were reported killed in a gun battle with the Armed Forces (“AFP starts Marawi pullout,” The Philippine Star, 10.21.2017). “The Army’s 1st Infantry Battalion (1IB) was the first to pull out from Marawi. When before departure, Lt. Col. Christopher Tampus ordered his troops to do a ‘shakedown inspection’ by stripping off their equipment and personal belongings in a gesture to show that no one among his men took ‘souvenirs’ and booty from the battle scene (Ibid.) — it was a noble negation of the common greed of conquerors to own the spoils of war — as depicted in the rawness of Luna’s Spoliarium.”
But the soldiers are not the conquerors in the Marawi War, nor is the Commander-in-Chief, the President, the victorious hero. There are no heroes. There can be no heroes where there are victims, as Juan Luna so eloquently painted in the Spoliarium. In Marawi, all are victims in a society that has allowed such carnage to even happen.
“The nearly five-month-long fight for Marawi, which was aided by US and Australian aircraft, displaced 400,000 people from the area around the city. The Philippine military says that at least 824 militants have died in the fighting, as well as 60 government troops and dozens of civilians,” as reported by the Huffington Post (10.19.2017). Ordinary people (the press included) do not really know the true numbers. In early July, ABS-CBN News (04.03.2017), The Manila Times (04.03.2017) and other media had already reported 84 government troops killed in encounters. Two retired high-ranking military officers still in the know and somehow still involved, say the military fighters killed have reached 150 as of the so-called “liberation” of Marawi, and some more may be killed or wounded in action in the “mopping-up operations” to totally declare Marawi clean and safe, and back to normalcy.
Of the “over 240 other individuals who are “prisoners of war” by the Maute group when it attacked Marawi City on May 23 (sunstar.com.ph, 09.25.2017), how many have been released/rescued (except for Fr. Teresito “Chito” Suganob and another hostage who escaped in September)? As of July, the rebel groups were supposedly still holding about 100 civilians who were reportedly being used as servants and sex slaves (ABS-CBN News, 07.03.2017).
The official unofficial count as of July was that of 5,055 families (27,335 persons) staying in 89 evacuation centers and 98,846 families (442,981 persons) housed with relatives and friends (PDI, 07.21.2017). Department of Health Secretary Paulyn Ubial said 40 home-based Marawi evacuees died (Ibid.). For the evacuees (called “bakwits”), for Marawi, for the country, and in the collective conscience’s recompense for the grievous harm and damage done to all, Marawi must be rebuilt.
“I think we have spent P2.5 billion to P3 billion on the Marawi crisis since the beginning,” Defense Secretary Delfin Lorenzana said (PDI, 08.12.2017). In September, he said he will ask Congress to increase the budget by an additional P10 billion for the defense department in consideration of the stepped-up operations and continuing focus on the war in Mindanao. On top of that, an estimated P7.5 billion pesos is needed to hire 20,000 soldiers and 10,000 police… for every 10,000 soldiers, the government would need at least P2.5 billion a year to train and equip, compared with the P4-billion projection of military Chief Eduardo Año. Lorenzana estimated that about P50 billion in all would be needed for Marawi (Bloomberg.com, 09.07.2017).
Sec. Benjamin Diokno said the Department of Budget and Management had already set aside P20 billion for the rehabilitation of Marawi, to be released in three tranches until 2019 — P5 billion this year, P10 billion in 2018 and P5 billion in 2019 (Ibid.). This will be gathered from the budgets of different government agencies, including the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD), the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) and the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) and augmented by foreign and local donations.
Finance Secretary Carlos Dominguez III also suggested issuing P30 billion worth of debt securities or “patriotic bonds,” to be implemented by National Treasurer Rosalia de Leon, to help fund reconstruction efforts in Marawi (Ibid.).
And that, in the crass strokes of pesos and centavos, glazed by the invaluable tears and blood of our people, is the picture of a Spoliarium in Marawi — a self-inflicted physical flagellation for abetting the hyperboles of power in what could be a peace-loving society. Could we not have handled the Marawi conflict with less than the gladiator spectacle?
Amelia H. C. Ylagan is a Doctor of Business Administration from the University of the Philippines.
