A Heritage of Smallness
A Heritage of Smallness
A Heritage of Smallness
Nick Joaquin
Society for the Filipino is a small rowboat: the barangay.
Geography for the Filipino is a small locality: the barrio.
History for the Filipino is a small vague saying: matanda pa
kay mahoma; noong peacetime. Enterprise for the Filipino
is a small stall: the sari-sari. Industry and production for
the Filipino are the small immediate searchings of each day:
isang kahig, isang tuka. And commerce for the Filipino is
the smallest degree of retail: the tingi.
………To foreigners used to buying things by the carton or the dozen or
pound and in the large economy sizes, the exquisite transactions of
Philippine tingis cannot but seem Lilliputian. So much effort by so many
for so little. Like all those children risking neck and limb in the traffic to
sell one stick of cigarette at a time. Or those grown-up men hunting the
sidewalks all day to sell a puppy or a lantern or a pair of socks. The
amount of effort they spend seems out of all proportion to the returns.
Such folk are, obviously, not enough. Laboriousness just can never be the
equal of labor as skill, labor as audacity, labor as enterprise.
We work more but make less. Why? Because we act on
such a pygmy scale. Abroad they would think you mad if you went
in a store and tried to buy just one stick of cigarette. They don’t
operate on the scale. The difference is greater than between having
and not having; the difference is in the way of thinking. They are
accustomed to thinking dynamically. We have the habit, whatever
our individual resources, of thinking poor, of thinking petty.
Are we not confusing timidity for humility and
making a virtue of what may be the worst of our vices? Is
not our timorous clinging to smallness the bondage we
must break if we are ever to inherit the earth and be free,
independent, progressive?
…….Many little efforts, however perfect each in itself,
still cannot equal one single epic creation. A galleryful of
even the most charming statuettes is bound to look scant
beside a Pieta or Moses by Michelangelo; and you could
stack up the best short stories you can think of and still
not have enough to outweigh a mountain like War and
Peace.
………The barangay settlements already displayed a Philippine
characteristic: the tendency to petrify in isolation instead of
consolidating, or to split smaller instead of growing. That within the
small area of Manila Bay there should be three different kingdoms
(Tondo, Manila and Pasay) may mean that the area was originally
settled by three different barangays that remained distinct, never came
together, never fused; or it could mean that a single original settlement;
as it grew split into three smaller pieces.
……..Philippine society, as though fearing
bigness, ever tends to revert the condition of
the barangay of the small enclosed society. We
don’t grow like a seed, we split like an
amoeba.
……..This attitude, an immemorial one,
explains why we’re finding it so hard to become
a nation, and why our pagan forefathers could
not even imagine the task.
……..Federation is still not even an idea
for the tribes of the North; and the Moro
sultanates behave like our political parties:
they keep splitting off into particles.
Because we cannot unite for the large effort, even
the small effort is increasingly beyond us. There is less to
learn in our schools, but even this little is protested by our
young as too hard. . . . . Used only to the small effort, we
are not, as a result, capable of the sustained effort and
lose momentum fast. We have a term for it: ningas cogon
Go to any exhibit of Philippine artifacts and
the items that from our “cultural heritage” but
confirm three theories about us, which should be
stated again.
1. …..The deduction here is that we feel
adequate to the challenge of the small, but are
cowed by the challenge of the big.
2. ….. The deduction here is that we feel equal
to the materials that yield but evade the
challenge of materials that resist.
3. That having mastered a material, craft or product, we
tend to rut in it and don’t move on to a next phase, a
larger development, based on what we have learned.
. . . . Like the pagan potter before him, the santero
stuck to his tiny rut, repeating his little perfections
over and over. The iron law of life is: Develop or
decay.
It’s two decades since the war but what were mere makeshift in
postwar days have petrified into institutions like the jeepney, which we all
know to be uncomfortable and inadequate, yet cannot get rid of, because
the would mean to tackle the problem of modernizing our systems of
transportation–a problem we think so huge we hide from it in the
comforting smallness of the jeepney. A small solution to a huge problem–
do we deceive ourselves into thinking that possible? The jeepney hints that
we do, for the jeepney carrier is about as adequate as a spoon to empty a
river with.
For the present all we seem to be able to do is
ignore pagan evidence and blame our inability to sustain
the big effort of our colonizers: they crushed our will and
spirit, our initiative and originality. But colonialism is not
uniquely our ordeal but rather a universal experience.
Other nations went under the heel of the conqueror but
have not spent the rest of their lives whining.
. . . . . We can’t cope; we don’t respond; we are not rising to
challenges. So tiny a land as ours shouldn’t be too hard to connect
with transportation – but we get crushed on small jeepneys, get
killed on small trains, get drowned in small boats. Larger and
more populous cities abroad find it no problem to keep themselves
clean – but the simple matter of garbage can create a “crisis” in
the small city of Manila.
Is building a road that won’t break down
when it rains no longer within our powers? Is even
the building of sidewalks too herculean of task for
us?
One writer, as he surveyed the landscape of
shortages—no rice, no water, no garbage collectors, no
peace, no order—gloomily mumbled that disintegration
seems to be creeping upon us and groped for Yeat’s
terrifying lines: