| 19
December 2002
The Oblation
I WONDERED last Monday
what the sculptor Guillermo Tolentino would have said had he lived to
see the Oblation Run, named after his famous sculpture at the entrance
of the University of the Philippines (UP) campus Diliman area of Quezon
City.
The Inquirer had an article, "Running naked for a cause," last
Saturday reviewing the history of the Oblation Run from its
"debut" in 1977 (two fraternity men, protesting the banning by
martial law authorities of a film "Hubad na Bayani" or
"Naked Hero") to the present (25 streakers this year, rallying
around the theme, "German Cut Yes, Budget Cut No").
I thought of writing more about that Oblation Run; in fact, I got to a
first draft talking about the sexual undertones but I ran out of steam
and decided to shelve that till next year. What I thought I'd focus on
is the Oblation itself, which seems to have retreated into the
background. Even UP people, myself included, don't seem to know enough
about the statue.
Fortunately, there is comprehensive information about the sculpture
available on the Internet, posted on the website of the Friends of UP
Foundation in the United States (www.geocities.com/College Park/Quad).
Here you find the story behind the Oblation, a description from the late
Guillermo Tolentino of the symbols used, and the full text of the
inscriptions around the statue.
That posting itself tells you how important the Oblation is in terms of
institutional memory, especially for UP alumni. We often forget, too,
that the Oblation has become a national icon as well. Just look at how
many times the Oblation has appeared in local films -- any scene that
supposedly features the University of the Philippines (emphasis on
"Philippines") has to have a shot of the young man, arms
raised to the sky.
Those of us who work in UP are often unaware of how important the
Oblation is even for people outside the university. Just two weeks ago a
friend brought over his mother to visit me at the campus and she told
me, rather excitedly, that this was her first time on the Diliman
campus. The highlight of her visit was an all-too-fleeting glimpse of
the Oblation that she caught from the bus as it entered the campus.
I offered her a better view, so we walked over to the statue. She was
totally thrilled and told her son in Tagalog, "Did you know that
Tito Kiko was conceived with this statue?" I know, the English
translation sounds really strange, but you can guess the word she used
was "pinaglihian." It seems that while pregnant, Tito Kiko's
mother frequently went to the Diliman campus to stare at the statue, the
idea being that her unborn child would acquire characteristics of the
object of her "lihi."
No, no, I don't think it was that "characteristic." The
Oblation has a fig leaf to provide strategic cover.
Let's get on now with the Oblation. Despite the fig leaf, Mr. Oblation
remains anonymous, with all kinds of speculation about who the model
was. Rather strangely un-Filipino-like, he hasn't been given a nickname
yet; people refer to him simply as "yung hubad" (the naked
one).
The naked one is still going strong, even if he turned 67 this year. In
1935, UP president Rafael Palma commissioned Tolentino for the
sculpture, with a request that the work be based on the second stanza of
Jose Rizal's "Mi Ultimo Adios." That passage is replete with
references to giving up one's life for the country. Thus you have the
outstretched arms, face looking toward the sky, almost evocative of the
way Rizal himself was martyred.
The statue is actually concrete but it was painted to make it look like
bronze. It cost all of 2,000pesos, a hefty sum at that time, raised
within two months from contributions of students and staff at the
university.
Tolentino describes the statue, all the way down to "closed eyes
and parted lips murmuring a prayer," to represent "all the
unknown heroes who fell during the night." The base, filled with
rocks, is supposed to represent the rugged Philippine archipelago. The
rocks came from the town of Montalban, outside Manila, site of a fierce
battle between Filipino guerrillas and the Japanese army during the last
world war.
Also at the base is katakataka -- literally, the plant that startles.
Also known as siempreviva (always living), the plant is known for the
way it shoots up, even from a leaf. Tolentino says this symbolizes
"the deep-rooted patriotism in the heart of our heroes. Such
patriotism continually and forever grows anywhere..."
It's amazing how much symbolism went into the statue, all the way up to
its height: 3.5 meters, to represent 350 years of Spanish rule. (You may
have wondered, as I did, why there wasn't another half a meter for 50
years of American rule, but the Oblation was put up in 1935, when we had
become a Commonwealth but were still under the Americans.)
There are inscriptions on all four sides of the statue's pedestal. On
the front panel is an excerpt from Jose Rizal's "El Filibusterismo,"
a passage from Padre Florentino, asking where are the youth ready to
offer their lives and their aspirations for the country? The good padre
warns that only those without reservations should dare to offer those
aspirations.
At the back of the statue is one stanza from Rizal's "Mi Ultimo
Adios," again referring to the giving of one's life, "in
combat or in martyrdom." Still another stanza from that poem
appears on the right side of the statue, again talking about offering
one's life, "without doubts, without sorrow."
Finally, perhaps anticipating debates that were to come in the 1970s
about who our national hero should be, is a poem, "Pagibig sa
Tinubuang Lupa" (Love for One's Homeland), by Andres Bonifacio.
Again, Bonifacio calls for patriotism, offering "dugo, yaman,
dunong, katiisa't pagod, buhay" (blood, wealth, knowledge,
perseverance and untiring effort, and life).
One might react to the almost warlike symbolism used in the statue and
the inscriptions, but we have to remember the Oblation was made in 1935,
when Spanish colonialism was still fresh in people's minds even as we
remained under American rule. Now in the 21st century, the metaphors
change, as we see with the Oblation Run. But the original spirit of the
Oblation endures, the call for valor and selflessness even more urgent
in these difficult times. |