For years, I had known my family’s great patriarch, Fidel Alejandro Reyes only as a scary bronze bust that stood at the street corner of our ancestral home in Lipa, Batangas. Translated from its Tagalog text, his historical marker read:
Fidel A. Reyes (1878 - 1967) Born in the City of Lipa, Batangas, May 3, 1878. Graduated from the Colegio de San Juan de Letran, 1895, and the University of Santo Tomas, 1902. Editor of La Vanguardia and El Renacimiento. Exposed the abuses of the American government with his editorial "Aves de Rapiña", sparking the nation’s collective consciousness. Representative, Philippine Assembly, 1912, First Filipino Director of the Bureau of Commerce and Industry, 1918 - 1929. Donated the site for the first SOS Children’s Village in the Philippines. Died September 10, 1967.
All that somehow did not seem real to me growing up. He was more like my family’s illusory hero and definitely lacked the celebrity of other national heroes such as Jose Rizal. I never met Fidel A. Reyes because he died years before I was born and I was only four years old when I attended the unveiling of his historical marker. I hardly knew what the fuss was about and I am pretty sure all the people who passed by the corner of P. Torres and G.A. Solis streets in Lipa and saw the ceremony that day were thinking the same thing.
Since then, there were hardly any tributes for the man in the bronze sculpture. His memory was eventually reduced to an occasional reunion anecdote. If his name came in print it would create a bit of excitement for my relatives but all the fuss would have died down by next Sunday’s lunch. It seemed my family’s Tatay was eventually going to be forgotten. Articles and memorabilia would be kept hidden in personal treasure chests for years and the name Fidel A. Reyes would remain unrecognized by many.
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| Newspaper article on the unveiling of the Fidel A. Reyes historical marker and bronze bust by Abdulmari Imao, National Artist for Sculpture |
Since then, there were hardly any tributes for the man in the bronze sculpture. His memory was eventually reduced to an occasional reunion anecdote. If his name came in print it would create a bit of excitement for my relatives but all the fuss would have died down by next Sunday’s lunch. It seemed my family’s Tatay was eventually going to be forgotten. Articles and memorabilia would be kept hidden in personal treasure chests for years and the name Fidel A. Reyes would remain unrecognized by many.
Born and raised in the busy city center of Manila, I grew up resisting my Filipino roots, or more accurately, my being a Batangueña (a Filipina from the Batangas province). I remember feeling anxious about the obligatory trips to my family’s hometown. My relatives, who were mostly based in Manila would flock to Lipa at least twice a year for the town fiesta and Holy Week. As everyone gathered on these occasions, I found it strange how my relatives seemed to change as soon as we all touched Batangas soil. The older generation would start speaking with a different accent, and with pure joy used the local Batangas Tagalog dialect with its ubiquitous "ala-eh" and "ano ga". Lipa was just a two hour drive from Manila but everything and everyone suddenly seemed so foreign.
I dreaded the long days and nights in my family's ancestral home with its mean combination of no television, no air conditioning, and no running hot water. To make it even more nightmarish were the black and white photos on the walls and the ominous possibility of supernatural sightings Philippine provinces were known for: the white lady in the mirror at midnight, the kapre (a mythical hairy giant) in the tree, and the black dwarves in the garden. Fresh air and suman (rice cake) could only do so much. I did not want to have anything to do with that place. I came to the conclusion early on that getting familiar with my heritage would only give me the creeps.
The bronze bust I feared as a child did haunt me eventually. The year was 2000, as I was taking a history quiz on a reading assignment the question came up, "Who was the author of the “Aves de Rapiña” editorial?". Now that surely would have been a no-brainer but at the time I had a bit of thinking to do before writing my answer down. I definitely knew who the author was but the history book we were asked to read did not mention my great grandfather at all. The answer my professor was looking for was Teodoro M. Kalaw, a much more well-known politician and historian, who was the Editor-in-Chief of El Renacimiento during the time the editorial was published. The textbook failed to mention that it was the newspaper’s City Editor Fidel A. Reyes who was the author of “Aves de Rapiña”.
I was not surprised that his name did not appear in your run-of-the-mill history textbook and I did not bother to do anything about the omission when I read the assignment. It had just confirmed something I had already known. My great grandfather was indeed a forgotten man in history.
But the test question was staring me right in the face. I thought to myself, “Should I write the name I was sure my professor was asking for and live happily ever after? Or should I dare place what I knew for certain was the correct answer and prepare to get into a discussion defending a dead relative I didn’t care much about?”. Out of principle, well I have to admit mostly out of impulse, I wrote the name Fidel A. Reyes on my piece of paper. True enough, my answer was marked wrong and I had to approach my professor after class to discuss the matter further. Yes, the clueless Communication undergrad was about to take on a university professor with a PhD in History. I set an appointment to meet him after class to discuss the authorship of “Aves de Rapiña”. He was curious and wanted to know specifics but I was already having what felt like an out of body experience. I quickly told him it was my great grandfather Fidel A. Reyes who wrote the editorial and I hurried off.
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| Fidel A. Reyes historical marker in Lipa City, Batangas |
The bronze bust I feared as a child did haunt me eventually. The year was 2000, as I was taking a history quiz on a reading assignment the question came up, "Who was the author of the “Aves de Rapiña” editorial?". Now that surely would have been a no-brainer but at the time I had a bit of thinking to do before writing my answer down. I definitely knew who the author was but the history book we were asked to read did not mention my great grandfather at all. The answer my professor was looking for was Teodoro M. Kalaw, a much more well-known politician and historian, who was the Editor-in-Chief of El Renacimiento during the time the editorial was published. The textbook failed to mention that it was the newspaper’s City Editor Fidel A. Reyes who was the author of “Aves de Rapiña”.
I was not surprised that his name did not appear in your run-of-the-mill history textbook and I did not bother to do anything about the omission when I read the assignment. It had just confirmed something I had already known. My great grandfather was indeed a forgotten man in history.
But the test question was staring me right in the face. I thought to myself, “Should I write the name I was sure my professor was asking for and live happily ever after? Or should I dare place what I knew for certain was the correct answer and prepare to get into a discussion defending a dead relative I didn’t care much about?”. Out of principle, well I have to admit mostly out of impulse, I wrote the name Fidel A. Reyes on my piece of paper. True enough, my answer was marked wrong and I had to approach my professor after class to discuss the matter further. Yes, the clueless Communication undergrad was about to take on a university professor with a PhD in History. I set an appointment to meet him after class to discuss the authorship of “Aves de Rapiña”. He was curious and wanted to know specifics but I was already having what felt like an out of body experience. I quickly told him it was my great grandfather Fidel A. Reyes who wrote the editorial and I hurried off.
I needed solid proof to defend my claim so I reached out to my grandmother for help. She had an old collection of articles and I was allowed to photocopy a few pages for the meeting. I came early on the day of the appointment, armed and ready to meet my professor and after all the build up was relieved to find that he was not going to put up a fight after all. He pulled a small book out from one of the shelves in his office library. It was an old publication he found in his personal collection with a firsthand account of how “Aves de Rapiña” came to print written by Teodoro M. Kalaw himself, confirming that Fidel A. Reyes was the true author of the editorial.
Our meeting could not have gone any better. After some discussion, he offered to lend me the book he had found, Ang Usaping Libelo ng El Renacimiento (The Renacimiento Libel Suit). Written entirely in first person, Teodoro M. Kalaw provided a detailed narration of the events that unfolded when “Aves de Rapiña” was published. The text was in Tagalog which made the story seem even more personal. It was the kind of writing that I did not usually encounter in history textbooks and I was completely riveted. He clarified the authorship of the editorial and the circumstances that surrounded its being published:
“Ibig kong ipahayag dito na sa katunayan, bagama’t aking inako ang pananagutan ay hindi ako ang tunay na sumulat ng editoryal na “Aves de Rapiña” o “Mga Ibong Mandaragit.” Oo nga’t binasa ko ito at iniwasto, ngunit hindi ko ito pinagtibay. “Pinatulog” ko ito nang isang linggo, habang pinag-iisipang mabuti (kung gagamitin o hindi), hanggang isang gabing nagmamadali kami sapagkat gahol na sa panahon at wala pang nakahandang editoryal. Noon din, kahit hindi ko pa napapasadahang muli gaya ng balak ko, ay pinahintulutan ko ang punong tagapaglimbag na itakbo na ito (alalaong baga’y gamiting editoryal). Ang may akda ng editoryal na ito ay ang Editor-Panlungsod na si Fidel A. Reyes.”
“Ibig kong ipahayag dito na sa katunayan, bagama’t aking inako ang pananagutan ay hindi ako ang tunay na sumulat ng editoryal na “Aves de Rapiña” o “Mga Ibong Mandaragit.” Oo nga’t binasa ko ito at iniwasto, ngunit hindi ko ito pinagtibay. “Pinatulog” ko ito nang isang linggo, habang pinag-iisipang mabuti (kung gagamitin o hindi), hanggang isang gabing nagmamadali kami sapagkat gahol na sa panahon at wala pang nakahandang editoryal. Noon din, kahit hindi ko pa napapasadahang muli gaya ng balak ko, ay pinahintulutan ko ang punong tagapaglimbag na itakbo na ito (alalaong baga’y gamiting editoryal). Ang may akda ng editoryal na ito ay ang Editor-Panlungsod na si Fidel A. Reyes.”
Teodoro M. Kalaw proofread the article, but he tucked it away for an entire week because he was not sure if it should be published. The editorial was gathering dust in his office until one mad scramble to meet a deadline for the now famous October 30th issue forced him to send “Aves de Rapiña” to the printers in 1908.
Reading the words of Teodoro M. Kalaw made history come alive for me. There I was, finally realizing after years of taking my great grandfather for granted, that everything that was declared in his historical marker was all true. I was filled with a great sense of pride and set out to learn more about him from a real authority, his daughter, Josefa Reyes-Luz, my grandmother. Known as Lola Phine to family and friends, she was Fidel A. Reyes’ youngest child and definitely one of his greatest fans.
I spent several Sunday afternoons with my grandmother listening to her stories about her father. It was a delight to see her face light up with every memory that came back to her. She would share stories with great joy and excitement. There were times she was so enthusiastic that she would have stories prepared in time for my visits. She lovingly worked on handwritten stories about her father until she could barely hold a pen. Before she passed away, she turned over all her memorabilia and cherished texts about her father to me in hopes of turning it into a book on Fidel A. Reyes.
One of the first personal accounts in my grandmother’s collection was from Gualberto Mayo, who was a close family friend from Lipa. Fidel A. Reyes was based in Manila for many years but made frequent visits to his hometown to check on family and friends. Reconnecting with people played such an important part in his life. As the practice was during the time, Gualberto respectfully referred to him as Don Fidel and remembered how they bonded over his fondness for the stories of the many great heroes and families from Lipa:
“After my father’s death, I became closer to him [Don Fidel] because every time he arrived from Manila, he used to send for me to dine with him in his house. In my conversations with him, he was most interested in the lives of our great Lipenos of the past. He knew none or very little about them and very often made me elaborate on the life of Don Teodorico Pantoja, Galo de los Reyes, Petronio Katigbak, among others. He was very interested also in the history of the following families: Katigbak, Luz, Mayo and Reyes. In his visits to Lipa, his brother Dr. Carmelo Reyes joined him with pride, in recalling and appointing the lives of our heroes - the great Lipeños of the past.”
I spent several Sunday afternoons with my grandmother listening to her stories about her father. It was a delight to see her face light up with every memory that came back to her. She would share stories with great joy and excitement. There were times she was so enthusiastic that she would have stories prepared in time for my visits. She lovingly worked on handwritten stories about her father until she could barely hold a pen. Before she passed away, she turned over all her memorabilia and cherished texts about her father to me in hopes of turning it into a book on Fidel A. Reyes.
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| "Let this be my pamana (inheritance) for you". Excerpt from the last handwritten note of Josefa Reyes-Luz |
One of the first personal accounts in my grandmother’s collection was from Gualberto Mayo, who was a close family friend from Lipa. Fidel A. Reyes was based in Manila for many years but made frequent visits to his hometown to check on family and friends. Reconnecting with people played such an important part in his life. As the practice was during the time, Gualberto respectfully referred to him as Don Fidel and remembered how they bonded over his fondness for the stories of the many great heroes and families from Lipa:
“After my father’s death, I became closer to him [Don Fidel] because every time he arrived from Manila, he used to send for me to dine with him in his house. In my conversations with him, he was most interested in the lives of our great Lipenos of the past. He knew none or very little about them and very often made me elaborate on the life of Don Teodorico Pantoja, Galo de los Reyes, Petronio Katigbak, among others. He was very interested also in the history of the following families: Katigbak, Luz, Mayo and Reyes. In his visits to Lipa, his brother Dr. Carmelo Reyes joined him with pride, in recalling and appointing the lives of our heroes - the great Lipeños of the past.”
It is interesting to see how inspired Fidel A. Reyes was by the people in his own hometown. How a sense of oneness and appreciation for his heritage contributed to his being counted among the great men he had admired. In all his accomplishments he stayed grounded and connected to his roots.
Fidel Alejandro Malabanan Reyes was born in Lipa, Batangas on May 3, 1878, the sixth of the eleven children of Felipe Quizon Reyes and Josefa Malabanan Reyes. His parents were middle class folk from Barangay No. 101 in Lipa, Batangas. He began his schooling in Lipa and when he was ten years old continued his studies in Manila at San Juan de Letran graduating in March 28, 1895 with a Bachelor of Arts degree. He began to study Pharmacy at the University of Sto. Tomas but his studies were interrupted by the Philippine Revolution.
A biographical sketch written by Fidel A. Reyes’ younger brother Carmelo, entitled Kuya Fidel (Older brother Fidel) narrates the beginning of his brother’s nationalist awakening during the revolution:
“Some time in 1897, before actual skirmishes began in the Lipa area, he must have felt a wanderlust or some real patriotic urge and disappeared from home, either to observe or actually join revolutionaries in Laguna and Rizal, probably Sta. Cruz, Pagsanhan, or San Mateo, from which he returned 2 or 3 weeks after with 4 or 5 young fellow companions who stayed at our home, must to the embarrassment of poor Mother who had very little help and the wherewithal at the time. He brought with him, either as a souvenir or a trophy, a fine-silver plated sundang (native sword) which he privately displayed with gusto.”
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| University of Sto. Tomas school records of Fidel A. Reyes, 1895 |
A biographical sketch written by Fidel A. Reyes’ younger brother Carmelo, entitled Kuya Fidel (Older brother Fidel) narrates the beginning of his brother’s nationalist awakening during the revolution:
“Some time in 1897, before actual skirmishes began in the Lipa area, he must have felt a wanderlust or some real patriotic urge and disappeared from home, either to observe or actually join revolutionaries in Laguna and Rizal, probably Sta. Cruz, Pagsanhan, or San Mateo, from which he returned 2 or 3 weeks after with 4 or 5 young fellow companions who stayed at our home, must to the embarrassment of poor Mother who had very little help and the wherewithal at the time. He brought with him, either as a souvenir or a trophy, a fine-silver plated sundang (native sword) which he privately displayed with gusto.”
The Philippine Revolution was the beginning of a new life for Fidel and many young men of his generation, who participated in the victorious battle for freedom from over 300 years of Spanish colonial rule.
My generation’s nationalist spirit was awakened by the events of the EDSA 2 Revolution in 2001, as hundreds of thousands gathered in protest against the corruption of the country’s president. Before this, there was a general sense that the youth had become apathetic, no longer interested in important issues concerning the country. This was true in my case. I used to believe that any sort of involvement could only be expected of some radical who was devoid of a social life. In any case, I was far from nationalistic and definitely not the activist type. But thanks to the help of the Philippine news media, the corruption of the president could no longer be ignored, even by me. The revelations and the political drama that unfolded during the president’s impeachment trial evoked such strong feelings of anger and discontent among the people. I felt compelled to take action and I took to the streets in protest calling for the resignation of the president. Without much planning, people gravitated towards the symbolic shrine in EDSA. A new generation came to demonstrate on the same streets the EDSA People Power Revolution of 1986 was won against a dictatorship.
The next day was difficult as I had to go back to attend a full day of classes. Our university was yet to announce its support of the revolution and it was business as usual. During one of my classes, I surprised everyone including myself when I gave a fiery speech about the urgency for all of us to take action and continue to join the protests. Our class had been following the news closely for months and discussed issues such as government corruption in depth but it was now time to take a stand against it. There was no use in sitting and talking about what was going on when we could be doing our part to shape our country’s history that very day. My professor was brought to tears overwhelmed to see that after all her years of teaching, there was hope in the country's youth.
It was a very powerful time. I discovered for the first time what it felt like to be compelled by a nationalist spirit and saw what it was truly capable of. I went back to join the growing crowd of people gathered in EDSA and after the four day street protest, celebrated the successful ousting of a president. The presence of other young people in the crowd was undeniable. I witnessed the birth of nationalism for my generation and was filled with so much hope for the future.
There was no turning back for me after what had just happened. The experience helped me understand in a deeper way what the Philippine Revolution did for Fidel A. Reyes. I felt more connected to him after I knew how it felt to stand up for my country against abuse and corruption. The kind of superficial life I was living before no longer made any sense and I wanted to make a change. It was in his story that I found the guidance I needed during a time when my feelings of nationalism most likely would have faded. Clinging to him as my mentor, I felt more secure about taking a new path and considered it as being part of his legacy. The steps he took immediately after the Philippine Revolution inspired me to begin searching for ways to help make a difference after the EDSA 2 Revolution.
