GRAFFITI REVIEW: THOUGHTS OF EMPIRE

By Joel Pablo Salud

However much I disagree with the way Sultan Jamalul Kiram III and his royal forces conducted their entry into Sabah, I can’t help but honor the courage displayed by the Tausugs. Theirs is a warrior society undiminished by time. For him and his lineage, Sabah was not a piece of land to claim. It was theirs for the longest time, every bit of soil and shrub of that patch of the former North Borneo. It was not simply some real estate under the Kiram name. History had attested that North Borneo was and is still Sulu Sultanate territory, the one roaring reality that had stood unchanged amid the yellowing of years and varying voices claiming the Sulu throne.

As fierce battle raged between the Kirams and Malaysian forces in Lahad Datu all the way to adjacent villages, it bears mentioning that another battle was taking place in cyberspace. News reports maintained that hackers from Malaysia and the Philippines conducted a salvo of attacks against each other to mirror the fracas on land. Even as the seven battalions of Malaysia’s armies swooped down on the brave 300 Tausugs holed up in one Sabah town, hackers from Anonymous allegedly raised a campaign against each other in retaliation for hostilities. From reality to virtual reality, it seems the relationship between the Philippines and Malaysia will never be the same again.

The war in cyberspace was inexorable. The day and age of a totally different contest for power had begun. Without guns and the thunder of a million soldiers’ footsteps, “wars” can now be waged with the flick of an “enter” button. I will not hazard to say it’s an exciting prospect in light of death tolls nations incur in real-time skirmishes.  As information slowly equals the worth of actual human lives, losses in cyber wars could be as equally devastating as conventional warfare.

Speaking of conventional warfare, Malaysia seemed to have missed the point of this engagement entirely. The Tausugs of Sulu had kept watch over their territories and people for centuries, the cost of which didn’t come easy. The battles they had fought—from the time the Sultan of Brunei begged for their help to quell a rebellion, to the day when the Tausug rebel Kimar Tulawie fought the forces of Martial Law under Gen. Mayo, to the very hour the Kirams now face the overwhelming forces of Malaysia—has kept the valiant Tausugs in tiptop form. They fought sword-in-hand with Spain as a superpower to another superpower until the conquistadores thought it was a bad idea to begin with. Sulu had lost sons and husbands, fathers, mothers and daughters. Tausugs have been known to brandish not only sword but women warriors as well. In this part of the Southeast, Muslim and Christian Tausugs fought bravely to stand on what they think is theirs to own. They have kept their honor intact through the centuries until the hour a ruse was staged by the British Crown and Malaysia and foretold the Sultanate’s slow yet inevitable fall.

If only Malaysia had taken this bit of history seriously, it would not have suffered the losses it had incurred in Lahad Datu. I sympathize with Malaysian families who now endure the pain of loss because of this armed engagement in Sabah. They have only their government to blame for it.

As in any war the battle for hearts and minds is inevitable. News items showing varying persuasions and arguments littered Facebook’s newsfeed at the very start of the armed engagement. It’s befuddling to read foreign press taking up the Malaysian spiel. The New York Times took the events to mean that a “religious army” had entered Sabah. This simple yet serious gaffe in research forces the ball to fall into a different court. Then the UK  Guardian came with its headline: “Malaysia bombs Borneo to expel squatter sultan’s private army” with the subhead, “Deadly escalation in crisis sparked by Filipino clan sneaking into Sabah state and asserting ancestral ownership rights.”

Squatters? Sneaking into Sabah? Watering the issue down to a “Filipino clan asserting its rights” over a disputed ancestral area helps little in discovering what had really transpired. I totally disagree with the notion of some that history can hardly be used as a basis for facts, in light of its ever evolving nature. If that is the case, then what the hell are we avid disciples of history for? Yes, there’s a solid trail to all this, however convoluted it may seem. One has but to dig deeper not only into the cache of papers but attitudes accepted in that old world order. And mind you, that old world order cannot be understood in its full context outside of the way people of ancient kingdoms understood and accepted their condition at the time.

Let’s take for example this argument: that Sabah’s thoughts should’ve been considered on the issue of its transfer from the Sultanate of Brunei to the Sultanate of Sulu. The idea wishes to elevate the old North Borneo to the position largely held by modern states today, where it must have a voice in the matter of nationality. It’s as if the theorist is arguing from the premise that North Borneo was a thriving state outside the kingdom of Brunei and the Sulu archipelago at the time. That premise cannot hold water any more than Malaysia’s hands can cup the Tausug warriors.

Why? Granted the North Borneo may seem an independent state from a modern perspective, geographical lines didn’t exist then as we know these lines to exist today. Jovito Salonga, in his 1963 debacle with Sen. Sumulong on the issue of the Sabah claim, asserted that no such demarcations existed. Experts have tracked land bridges connecting the Sulu archipelago with North Borneo, connecting the archipelagic empire in one seamless whole. In the minds of the royals and Sulu’s inhabitants, North Borneo was much a part of the Sulu archipelago as Palawan is to the Philippines. That mindset exists well up to modern times; which is why Suluks have been coming in and out of North Borneo since the glory days of the Sultans. I won’t even be surprised if Brunei’s reasons for the transfer of Sabah to Sulu’s hands had been based, among others, to this fact. North Borneo was a destination the Suluks had always considered home.

On the line of reasoning that Sabahans suffered estrangement because its voice wasn’t in any way heard during the transfer from Brunei to Sulu, I have only this to offer as a thought bubble: Wouldn’t it be more precise to say that such estrangement or alienation “felt” by, say Sabahans, is merely conjecture? A way of modern interpretation of what may have been left unsaid in all this? We have the benefit of hindsight and modern studies, thank God for that. But we all have yet to read a document saying that the Sabahans of old refused to be a part of the Sultanate of Sulu at the time it was handed over by the Sultan of Brunei. Sulu being what it was before, rich in ways we can only imagine, the population of North Borneo then may have wanted it more than anything else.

Another argument I read, which compared our own historical engagement with Spain, didn’t exactly coincide with Sabah’s experience. It assumed that the old North Borneo had always been a separate political and geographic entity, which by and large was in the rightful position to claim self-determination. It therefore hints that North Borneo should have been consulted during the transfer from Brunei to Sulu. But history had nothing to say about that theory. More to the point, modern historians (or so this one claims to be) cannot make conclusions about the ancient world using modern parameters for analysis. Again let me reiterate: that old world order cannot be understood in its full context outside of the way people of ancient kingdoms understood and accepted their condition at the time.

History has this to say: much of the Philippine archipelago then was conquered territory, invaded by a malignant power outside its own. Sulu archipelago remained free despite attempts by Spain to subdue its borders. Sabah has been part of a reigning kingdom long before the various sultanates existed. Called the Nusantara, this archipelagic empire was part of the Buddhist-Hindu Majapahit realm. The Islamic sultanates eventually took the reins of power in the region without breaking into pieces what had already been an ancient and united domain.

Revolution as we know it today—in the context of the formation of sovereign nation-states—came at a time when many, not only the Philippines, thought of engaging the ailing colonial powers. Revolution of this kind is a fairly modern idea, which has much to do with the French Revolution. The old North Borneo, as far as I know, staged no such rebellion against Sulu. Why would it even think of raising its fists when majority of the population were also inhabitants of the Sulu archipelago? Unless, of course, proof of another story exists such as the Sultanate of Sulu maltreating its subjects. But there is no extant document to prove such a thing actually transpired.

As the battle for hearts and minds rages, it appears now that a bigger one in Malaysia is taking place, larger than the Lahad Datu incident. Election in Malaysia is right up the bend, and based on the Malaysian paper, The Edge, American newspapers have of late been allegedly hammering propaganda material to undermine opposition leader Datuk Sari Anwar Ibrahim. PKR vice-president Tian Chua said it is the mark of an insecure government to conduct such a shameful campaign, adding that he expects more from the lobby of the Malaysian government as the elections eases closer.

The report which quoted the US Department of Justice has tagged the Huffington Post, San Francisco Examiner, Washington Times and National Review as those publications singing a discordant tune about Anwar. Joshua Trevino, a said pundit, allegedly received about US$389,000 as retainers from the Malaysian government, having also paid smaller writers amounts to conduct a series of campaigns naming Anwar as “enemy of the state”.

I mentioned this particular incident as an example of how the Malaysian government conducts its affairs of state. The initial confusion as to what had happened in Lahad Datu was proof of Malaysia’s standoffish attitude towards the truth. Word that media practitioners were held back by Malaysian military forces allegedly at gunpoint spread even as the armed engagement between them and the Tausugs commenced. Why the Philippine government trusted Malaysian authorities to broker the peace between the Moro Islamic Liberation Front and the GRP Panel is a thing worth looking into. The Department of Justice, no matter how loyal its leadership is to President Aquino, must spearhead this investigation.

As of this writing, a bombing raid had commenced in the town of Lahad Datu where a  few Tausugs were holed up. Reports said that Malaysia swooped down on the beleaguered Sulu warriors with everything from guns, jet fighters to tanks. With Filipino journalists pushed back, the only news that served the basis of what was happening was Malaysian news bureaus. The initial reports came in, saying that the Filipino fighters were decimated, the town levelled to the ground. It was almost as heartbreaking as it sounds, until independent Malaysian media said that despite the overwhelming onslaught, the Sulu warriors held their ground. The Malaysian air raid missed their target.

War is never anything but a sad and costly affair. A total of 26 lives have been lost since Day One of this battle, and no amount of justification can stand in the face of lives lost. Except one: honor. See, we are here dealing with a people whose ancient souls have yet to relinquish their warrior status, their thoughts of empire. Centuries of battles and centuries of ruse and subterfuge had forced the Tausugs to protect the last vestiges of royal pride and human dignity.. If President Aquino had only seen it in this light, then maybe he could’ve formulated an answer to the lingering question of Sabah and the Sultanate of Sulu. Sadly, he did not.

No, this is not simply a battle fought for land or historic claims. This is empire summoning its last ounce of courage to survive in a world that turns evermore indifferent to its way of life. In this contest, only one shall stand while the other reaps the whirlwind.  Alas, this is the past and the present locked in mortal combat.  

WEEKEND GRAFFITI REVIEW: I SHOULD’VE NAMED HER CHUCK NORRIS

By Joel Pablo Salud

My introduction to this creature of chic Egyptian charm, if memory serves, came when as a child of about two or three a huge tomcat got snoopy enough to take a bite out my little toe.

Obviously, it wasn’t successful. I quickly scampered off the kerb screaming like I had seen a Brontosaurus. I was one of what seemed like a thousand children playing by the wayside with some marbles and rubber bands. Cats of all tints and sizes also roamed the streets of Pasay, with one or two making the gaffe of tip-toeing into the compound in search for food.

Big mistake.

Without getting into the gory details of how children can sometimes act like Hitler’s SS, suffice it to say, some of these furry creatures barely got out of the situation alive. The tomcat that nibbled on my toe like it was cinnamon roll took such a beating from a thousand little hands, it barely escaped with its sanity, let alone a thinning coat pulled, twitched and yanked in all of a million directions.

It took some years before I had the chance to care for one. It was 1973, and it was all the rage to watch Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon. A white kitten, splashed with streaks of light golden russet on its back, had its tail caught under the government-issued metal trash bin. I was ten, and seeing it try to wiggle its way out of a dire situation caught me by surprise. I pulled it from under the can and hurriedly brought it home.

Mother was furious. The kitten had tiny bits of soiled food and dirt and everything filthy you can imagine on its fur. I begged mother to give me the chance to raise the poor thing, even promising to work for the crumbs I’d be giving it. Nothing like cute puppy faces to get my Mom to agree, and a cat out of an unwitting hunger strike. But it came with a caveat: the cat stays outside or it goes. I raised my right hand to my chest, proof of my indissoluble oath of allegiance.

I found my kitten a small delivery cardboard box for its home. It occurred to me now just how huge that container was for a kitten barely able to outstrip my toddler shoes. Anyway, so far, so good; and what I first noticed was that its prowess for napping bordered on the legendary. It slept all morning, save for that snatch of a few minutes when it craved for some milk. I had a ready cup of evaporada on the side, mixed with water and a half-teaspoon of sugar. A morsel of bread dipped in sardine sauce sat near the cup. Milk was its favourite for obvious reasons although it did take a bite of the bread once in a while.

Notorious, even at ten, for breaking the rules of God and men, I regularly sneaked my little kitten into the room at night for some playtime and evening snacks of cheddar. I cut strips of cloth for the kitten to play with, mostly coming from old, torn shirts. We would play till we were both exhausted from running and skipping about the room.

This went on for some time until Mom caught the kitten– bigger now by roughly three to four inches—slumped unconscious under my armpits. It was the first time I got caught in bed with someone other than my pillow, so you can just imagine the fury that was unleashed that day. Mom grabbed hold of the kitty and placed it back where I got it: beside the trash bin outside the gates of the compound. I’m not sure but that was probably the first time I wrote a three-line poem about sadness and loss. And about being pissed. I went to bed lonely, disillusioned about parenthood and about life. It hardly drove me to suicide, but then again, I was ten and who could tell?

The morning after, my breakfast of eggs and bacon tasted dull, blasé, even sour. I threw myself onto the couch to settle scores with reruns of Gigantor. Suddenly, a faint meow, too faint to catch amid the blare of Japanese cartoons. I was suddenly in a knee-jerk frenzy to know where that all-too-familiar purr was coming from. I searched far and wide, until right below where I sat watching TV, I saw my little kitten crouched in a corner, wet and cold. I recalled that it rained the night before. I worked against the clock to look for Mom’s hair dryer. In a few minutes, the kitten was warm against my armpit, sleeping with nary a care in the world. On TV was an ad about the latest craze in kung fu movies: Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon. Bruce Lee. I’m gonna name it Bruce Lee.

Past the years and several reruns to boot, Bruce Lee grew into probably one of the most gorgeous felines I have seen. She was my first cat, and yes, it was female. She was also the Alpha among the other cats that strayed and stayed with me in between. Rats and mice disappeared where I once lived, and for some reason, even roaches. I remember her having a pride of fifteen kittens which all grew up, and later went off to have families of their own.

Old and barely able to get up, one day, she too disappeared without saying goodbye. But days before that, she was able to fight off a tomcat that intruded into her territory. The clash was so ferocious, the racket kept half the compound awake, hurling expletives in the wind, forcing, too, the huge male to scamper for safety, all bloodied and near death. I knew I made a big mistake naming her Bruce Lee. But I was a kid. Only now do I realize I should have named her Chuck Norris.

Photo: Thok and Mol, two of my present-day kitties.

Dark day at Lahad Datu

By Joel Pablo Salud

The name Lahad Datu, where yesterday’s gun battle exploded between the Malaysian military and forces loyal to the Sultanate of Sulu, was said to have been coined by the Badjaus, meaning , the “State of Datu”.

The name was first used when the royals of the Sultanate of Sulu began migrating to this North Borneo town, East of Sabah, sometime in the 18^th century. In modern times, Lahad Datu is named the Palm City. It is the largest producer of palm oil in Sabah.

Which is why the statement made March 1, 2013 by Ricky Carandang, Secretary of Presidential Communications Development and Strategic Planning, seemed to have slipped out of a cave somewhere along the dark side of the moon. While government rightfully condoled with the families who suffered loss, Carandang reiterated the President’s call for the forces loyal to the Sultanate of Sulu to “lay down their arms and return home”.

He said, and I quote: “Since the onset, our primary goal had been to resolve the situation without violence. That is why President Aquino urged the followers of the Kiram family to lay down their arms and return home, so that their grievances can be addressed through sober, productive dialogue.”

What I feel was an unwitting display of rusty insight on the part of government is its understanding of what “home” is to these people. “Home” is North Borneo (Sabah). Barring the labyrinthine arguments on the sundry claims over North Borneo, the name Lahad Datu itself—the State of Datu—proves the standing regal claim of the Sulu monarchy on this part of Sabah. It was not as though the Sulu royals broke diplomatic protocol or had engaged Malaysia in all-out war when they entered Lahad Datu at the start of the stand-off. Government must understand: North Borneo has been their home for the longest time.

Not to overlook reasons by Malacanang to speak as it did, entering Lahad Datu with 300 men armed to the teeth hardly qualified as a homecoming entourage, at least in modern perspective. But on the other hand, the mentality of these Suluk warriors were as old as the very world they say they own, and weapons are as crucial to their identity as the regal status history has accorded them. Government must approach these men in light of such realities if any resolution to the conflict were to be had.

Twelve Filipino Muslims were killed in the engagement. A fewer number from the Malaysian side. It is sad that this administration can only go so far as to make statements that, by dint of mediocrity, sounds good on paper but not in actual practice. And we are all aware this isn’t the first of its many faux pas. Its idea of conflict resolution was to pay no serious heed to the crisis for the sake of the campaign trail.

If this, to them, is leadership, we might as well have a canary for a President.

GRAFFITI REVIEW: TWILIGHT IN SULU

By Joel Pablo Salud

 

My story on the Muslims of Maharlika—The Forgotten Nobles—sparked my interest in the Sultans of Sulu way back 2010. The story appeared in the BusinessMirror and the Philippines Graphic. From then on, I scoured for documents and materials, even inroads to those who say they are sultans, if only to tell the tale of what seemed like the slowly vanishing history of a once glorious kingdom. I have heard bits and pieces of the country’s claim to Sabah as a young journalist. It was only now I connected all the dots that led to the Sultanate of Sulu.

Perhaps it was the child in me, rivetingly engrossed with the romance associated with kings and princesses that led me to search for answers. Thanks to a good friend, I had my first crack at meeting a Sulu royal early 2011 (or was it 2012?). I met Dayang-Dayang (Princess) Merriam Tanglao Kiram, who introduced herself as the second wife of HM Al-marhum Sultan Moh. Mahakuttah A. Kiram, said to be the 34th Sultan of Sulu and North Borneo, crowned in 1974. Her son, Raja Muda Muedzul Lail Tan Kiram, was crowned sultan recently as a continuing line after his father passed away Feb. 1986. The meeting we had in Makati City was one of formal introduction, and a rundown of a “history” the princess was only too willing to relate.

To cut to the chase, the gist of the conversation revolved around Sulu Sultanate’s glorious past as the richest country this part of Asia—with special emphasis on the word country. It struck me then as rather bold that she should accentuate sovereignty right at the very beginning of the conversation: “My vision, and my son’s vision, is to make the Sultanate of Sulu a member of the ASEAN.” When asked if she understood the implications of her statement, the alleged Princess of the South could only reply, “The intention behind all this is to help the heir, not the national government per se. They have to know there is such a kingdom as the Sultanate of Sulu. Only with such recognition can we thereafter help the government.”

They have to know there is such a kingdom as the Sultanate of Sulu.

So, my natural questions were, among a thousand others: doesn’t the government know? Too, can a government functioning as a monarchy still exist within the framework of a democracy like ours—without rocking the boat? These words by Princess Merriam Kiram kept me up way past the wee hours that night.

I continued my search for answers until another chance to interview a Sulu royal arrived through a member of the family. I met Prince Omar Kiram at the Peninsula Hotel. He recognizes Sultan Fuad Kiram I as the legitimate sultan—all 35 of them—from the time of Sultan Sharif ul-Hashim Abu Bak’r, the proclaimed first sultan in the early and middle 14^th-century.

The interview commenced almost immediately, with the prince recounting a version of history I was barely familiar with. He cited Butuan as the seat of the kingdom, “and, at the beginning of the 10th century, was recognized by China with the most favored kingdom nation treaty at that early stage of its development.” By this, he thereby recounted how Butuan rose to prominence until the region turned into a sovereign Sultanate with the arrival of Sultan Sharif ul-Hashim Abu Bak’r. But then, Sabah was raised:

“We have something to be proud about. That’s why our advocacy is for Sabah to be returned to the Sultanate and to the Filipinos because it’s ours. You know how much Malaysia is stealing from us everyday? One million barrels of oil per day. That’s only for oil, equivalent to about US$100 million. A year, it’s a minimum of US$36.5 billion. No wonder they pay the Moro Islamic Liberation Front, other secessionist groups in Minadanao, to create more chaos because their preoccupation is to stay in Sabah unlawfully and isolate Sabah from the Muslim Tausugs and the Filipino population. Because Sabah, to them, is their milking cow. I say milking cow because 95% of Sabah’s riches are siphoned off to Kuala Lumpur. Only 5% are left in Sabah. And Sabah, by the way, consists of over 70% Tausug. Our people. And other Filipinos as well. We are the majority in Sabah. So, for Malaysia to stay there, they have to be able to create a ruse, create chaos so Filipinos cannot unite to recover our land, to recover our property,” Prince Omar Kiram said.

I quoted these two statements to stress that of the myriad and confusing claims that had reached my ears, the issues of Sabah and the Sultanate’s sovereignty are the ones that had remained consistent. Last week, an emissary from the group of Sultan Esmail Kiram II came to the Graphic newsroom to tell their side of the story (this will come out on Monday’s Philippines Graphic). In a nutshell, although they are all split to the core in matters of lineage and history, they all maintain that the Sultanate must rule over all its dominion absolutely, and that North Borneo (now called Sabah) belongs to the Sultanate of Sulu.

I will not argue for one or against the other. I think this battle to reinstate identity belongs exclusively to the royals and constituents of the Sulu Sultanate. But for such a battle to triumph, somehow, the Sultanate must come to terms with the need for a unified stance. Yes, I believe it’s a battle for identity and existence more than anything. All these claims come to nothing—diverse and compelling as they are—if the government, nay the country as a whole, refuses to accept there is such a thing as the Sultanate of Sulu.

The charges now leveled by the Department of Justice on Sultan Jamalul Kiram III and the royal forces that entered North Borneo will further muddle an already baffling issue. Worse, the President’s apparent disregard forces one to wonder what the freaking hell is going on in Malacanang.

 

Read “The Forgotten Nobles” by Joel Pablo Salud

http://doubleblade.wordpress.com/2011/01/01/maharlika-the-forgotten-nobles/