El libro de febrero: "Noli me tangere", otra perspectiva

Hace algún tiempo ya comentamos la obra "Noli me tangere", la definición de Filipinas a manos de su héroe nacional, José Rizal. No obstante, resulta interesante, a pesar de todo, traer a colación este artículo de opinión que me pidió un amigo filipino acerca de cuál fue la impresión que me produjo, como español, leer un libro sobre un escritor que le pedía a mi país que dejara de tratar al suyo como una colonia y que, si no era capaz, que le concediera la independencia. Soy testigo directo de cómo mi amigo trató esta extraña mezcla de "crítica literaria" y "sociología histórica comparada" con mimoso esmero, pero aún así, debido a dificultades editoriales a las que muchos de nosotros estamos acostumbrados, el artículo no llegó a ver la luz, motivo por el cual decido ahora mostrároslo. El texto se redactó originalmente en inglés y como tal os lo transcribo, con tan sólo alguna nota explicativa (no le vería sentido traducir un texto que se redactó específicamente para gente de otras latitudes, y hablantes de otra lengua), y a pesar de mis muchos errores semánticos y sintácticos, estoy casi seguro de que conseguiréis desentrañarlo. Otra opción, en todo caso, si veis que mi inglés o el vuestro no ayuda, es preguntarme por su significado, o aún mejor -como siempre-, os emplazo a leer el original y, como el Pierre de Menard borgiano reescribiendo El Quijote, llegar a las mismas conclusiones que yo por otro lado. Lo cual, por paradójicas que parezcan mis divagaciones, en realidad, es bastante probable, o al menos creo que no os costara demasiado.

Aquí va el texto:

How reading Noli me tangere got me closer to the Pinoys (1)

                From my years in university, when I met a group of Philippinos, I had dreamed to visit their country, but never found the right moment. So, when a couple of friends told me they were marrying in Boracay, I thought it was the perfect excuse. As I usually do when I travel, I tried to get some books that could be useful as a cultural reference. One Philippino pal recommended me the first novel of José Rizal, Noli me tangere, and I decided to follow his advice.

I must confess I did not know much about Rizal until then: I knew he was considered the father of Philippines independence and, so, Noli me tangere was a relevant book for the country, similar, for young students, to our Don Quixote. However, my knowledge ended there. In Spain, we usually analyze the independence of the Philippines from the Spanish point of view. In that version of the story, we lost the last remainings of what was, in the past, an overwhelming empire, and that fact became a national humiliation. We are conscious that we lost our empire due to our own mistakes, and, from 1898 on, we assumed we were a second-order nation in a long process of decadence. But we are never told about the vision of the same story from the Philippino side. In fact, few Spaniards know much about colonial society in Spanish empire, and I learnt nothing in school about Philippines.

I am not going to speak much about plot of Noli me tangere, because most of you already know it. From the literary point of view, I was surprised to find Rizal’s style (despite physical distance) similar to the one you can find in other European authors from same period, as Emile Zolá or Spanish writer Vicente Blasco Ibáñez -who, in fact, collaborated with the corrections of Noli me tangere-. While reading the novel, I admired ironic, quite intelligent sense of humor of Rizal, and also the modernity of the arguments he defends in the very intense dialogs of the story. As I imagine it happens to everybody, I felt impressed the first time I read about the multi-faced biography of Rizal, and cannot avoid a reaction of pain when I think on the sadness of his last days.

However, I think we all agree that the most crucial moments of the novel are those in which Rizal complains about the way Spain treats the Philippines, and claims for a change in the relations with the metropolis. I imagine that these paragraphs must look the most difficult to read for a Spaniard and, in fact, many of my friends get shocked when I say I have read a book <<against the Spaniards>>. But, on the contrary, my feeling is the opposite: I think that, after the lecture of Noli me tangere, I have found lots of things in common between Philippinos of that time and Spaniards of the same period and, even, with Spaniards of the present moment. I know this theory can look surprising, but I will try to explain it.

In his novel, Rizal talks about the way Spain administers its colonies: there, local government follows rules from the distant capital, trying to favor the interest of a short minority of the population (the Spaniards). There is an excessive authority of Catholic Church in the islands, where all what the priests demand is obeyed as law. Rizal complains about difficulty for Philippinos to earn enough under colonial system, and how poverty leads them to crime, making poor people be chased by police (in that moment, the <<Guardia Civil>>). Also, he criticizes the way Spanish authorities silence those who protest against their way to do things, employing a perverted justice to condemn critics. Rizal also underlines the division of Philippinos between those who want to maintain the old traditions, and the ones who are fighting for a new way to do things, with no real chance of progress for population.

My first impression -when I read those lines- was amazement to find an incredible number of resemblances with what I had heard about my own country in the XIXth Century. For example, in Spain we also had problems with uncontrolled power of Catholic Church in routine life and politics –some people even think it has too much yet-. Furthermore, during XIXth and XXth century, there was a great fight in Spain between liberal and conservative party about how things should be done, resulting of which no real advances could be developed for that period. In that sense, Spaniards in the time of Rizal (who, in fact, lived in the metropolis for a while) should share some common feelings with the Philippinos about Spanish regime.

But, in fact, I was surprised on how easy was to draw parallelisms with Spanish situation right now. As you probably know, Spain has been one of the most affected countries by the economic storm which started on 2007, and it is far from recovery yet. High unemployment, people losing their homes, worsening work conditions, have become the common day-to-day. What is more, in these moments, when Spaniards expected more from their country, news about corruption and how politicians make laws which are good just for a high-class elite, fill mass media. This <<cast>> is also accused of employing justice and police to protect their abusive situation against poor people. In addition, Spain belongs to European Union, and, in the last times, decisions about internal politics have arrived from distant Brussels without any chance of discussion. So, if you substitute that privileged elite we have mentioned by <<Spaniards>>, and common people by <<Philippinos>>, you have a social situation which does not differ much from Philippines in the XIXth Century.

Of course, this is a simplification. Spain has problems but, even now –although great improvement in Philippines in the last years-, they are far away from challenges that Philippinos must front in the present days. And, of course, lives of modern Spaniards are much better than the ones Rizal’s coetaneous had to develop a century ago. However, similarities are there, and also the aim of some people –as Rizal in its time- to improve situation.

As I told before, I visited Philippines recently. I was in touristic Boracay, in beautiful Taal volcano and Pagsanjan river, in surprising Bohol, and also in overcrowded Manila. I had the opportunity to contemplate by myself some of the paradoxes of the country, as watching skycrappers in Makati in the same view of slums in Intramuros. From my visit, and also from Pinoy friends in Spain, I feel jealous of the capacity of Philippinos to remain optimistic in every situation despite enormous troubles, while Spaniards complain too much about –comparatively- tiny things. In that sense, I feel Spaniards have lots to learn from our former colony.

Noli me tangere also caught me by the solutions Rizal proposed for the problems of his nation. He preferred to change things by pacific methods, and working in collaboration with his enemies, than declaring war to them. Rizal was, however, a great revolutionary, who fought hard and sacrificed much in order to get a better world. Nowadays, many Spanish civil groups are also trying to change society in a non-violent way, asking for more democracy and better opportunities for low-class people. I like to imagine that Rizal would have shared the wish for these aims.

In the end, I think another great connection between Spain and the Philippines comes from the figure of Rizal. When I look at the image of Rizal in “peso” (2) notes, I see the face of a Philippino. But, when I read his sentences, I find the prose of a Spaniard who speaks my language, has studied the same classic books, and exposes ideas who are not very different from mine. Rizal is the best example of how a man can be 12,000 km away and, however, be called your brother. I probably feel as much Spaniard as Rizal considered himself a Philippino. Nevertheless, I have clear that the nation that is formed by people like Rizal, is the one I want to belong to.

      (1) "Pinoy" es el apelativo cariñoso con el que los filipinos se denominan a ellos mismos.
(2) El peso es la moneda de uso cotidiano en Filipinas.