Reuel Molina Aguila, PhD: Remarkable litterateur

By Lourdes Lee Ng
SOMETHING about September makes us melancholic. We go back in time recalling people and events. The world remembers the 9/11 terror attack and we Filipinos remember Martial Law.
Recently, the University of the Philippines President Danilo Concepcion issued a statement saying that “the dark period of the dictatorship will not be forgotten and that the best and bravest who made the ultimate sacrifice fighting for freedom and democracy will continuously be held in high regard,” trying to dispel rumors of political whitewashing in the country’s premier university. It sounds an assurance to a vigilant nation.
The Filipino people will not forget. In fact, there is a palpable effort to continue to make the past, our history, and the experience of silent heroes, relevant. There is perseverance in the painstaking little steps towards progress as an awakened people by means of educating and making the young aware and familiar with the history and experience of the previous generations. The Filipino artists continue to contribute to this end by means of active participation in the affairs of the nation and protecting the interest of the citizenry through conscious effort in fields such as creative writing, the power and influence of which cannot be undermined.
The Carlos Palanca Hall of Fame awardee Reuel Molina Aguila, Ph.D. is one artist the Filipino should know. A faculty member at the University of the Philippines, a playwright, poet, essayist, a scriptwriter for TV, film and radio, fictionist, translator, and a bird photographer, the man, looked up to in his industry, has received multiple awards across literary genres. However, more than the heavy accolades, the artist’s perspective and commitment to his craft continue to make him significant today.
The litterateur is a member of the remarkable breed of artists who came out of the Martial Law years in the country, one of the rare and cogent proofs that something great can come out of adversity. His awakening took place during the First Quarter Storm, upon entering the University of the Philippines (UP) as a student in the 1970s. While Filipinos were being betrayed, he grew his fangs, he became fierce, his heart held his patriotic battle cry, and soon, the writer was born. He fought hard and was imprisoned. He knew those times, he lived the tales other people tell, he was there. He lost a teacher and friend.
When all that was over and done, the mighty pen and his resolute stance stood still. He entered UP again to teach. The university is home to him, having spent his fecund years earning his bachelor’s degree and doctorate there, teaching, writing and guiding the young at the country’s revered institution. He affirms his presence and does not tire of retelling his experience of yesteryear mostly through his written work. He would constantly write about society, he would sketch a picture of life meaningfully, trying to send a message of wisdom to his audience. He wants to achieve his mission of educating the youth and enkindle in them the desire to learn instead of simply seeking to earn.
He believes learning is important. His advocacy leans towards erudition and for the past decade, he has been an active adviser for the writer’s organization Kataga, Samahan ng mga Manunulat sa Pilipinas. The organization promotes artistic and relevant literature, coming from practical knowledge of society, contributing to its progress and transformation. Kataga is celebrating its 10th anniversary this month.
As Kataga’s founder, Dr. Aguila is convinced that every period in history has a need for writer’s organizations responsive to the needs of their time. He was one of the prime movers of the country’s most famous group of writers in the 1990s, the Galian ng Arte at Tula (GAT) that flourished for 20 years. Since the death of GAT, the void has never been filled. Everyone seemed to have become content resting in their ivory towers, immersing themselves in selfish rhetoric. Totally disengaged from society’s problems, until the soft and insidious cries of the times are heard again.
Kataga is Dr. Aguila’s response to the need of writers to study the distinctive quality of modern times considering the demands of the digital era. He affirms that every writer should be immersed in society, realizing the challenges to the language posed by the uninterruptible flow of information via the internet; the volatility of the Filipino language and youth’s dominant and ever-changing linggo; the emerging crossbreeding of different literary genres; the unexplored terrains of ideas not covered by research which remain unwritten; and the need to propagate readership across the islands, among others.
Dr. Aguila encourages Kataga writers to hone their skills, to undergo serious study, and to consider themselves professionals who need to be adept in their field. He encourages them to go further, beyond the completion of a masterpiece, and beyond citations and awards. He envisions an organization of writers attuned, active and responsive to the needs of the suffering Filipino. At present, Kataga has seven branches: Kataga-Manila, Kataga-Quezon City, Kataga-South Luzon, Kataga-Zambales, Kataga Lucena, Kataga-Lucena Tanghal, and Kataga-Online. As the writer members of Kataga receive the necessary guidance and become masters in their craft, the organization fills the need for a united and astute writer’s group today.
As he retires from teaching at the UP, we might imagine the Gawad Dangal ng Wikang Filipino lifetime achievement awardee to be enjoying the view from there. But no, Dr. Aguila knows only too well as Flaubert once wrote, “I have always tried to live in an ivory tower, but a tide of shit is beating at its walls…,” that he would always find it impossible to rest. We learn from the guru that success does not have to come in one piece like the ivory tower is envisioned. Instead, success could come in fragments, like small rocks carefully, constantly, devotedly, laid one on top of the other becoming a fortress for others to lean on, for the miserable others to rely on, for his countrymen’s continued protection.
Yes, Reuel Molina Aguila, is one of the Philippines’ remarkable artists, remains imperishable and watchful at a time when the ivory tower seems enchanting once more. He sits pensive, reflecting on the suffering of the Filipino people, his hands ready to pound on the keypad that has replaced his paper and pen. He will tell the story of September again and again, reminding the readers of the lesson of the nation’s bitter fairy tale. This September, as he celebrates his birthday, he might be writing another magnum opus.