We declared a nation. Have we become one?
Independence Day has passed, but the questions it raises don’t expire with the holiday—which is precisely Atty. Ramon Cabrera’s point. Speaking with Universitas during the 128th anniversary of Philippine independence, the UA&P Political Economy faculty member argued that nationhood is not a date to commemorate but a project to sustain. The conversation moves from the distinction between a legal claim to nationhood and the harder, existential question of whether we truly act as one people, toward a view of citizenship not as entitlement but as an ethical project sustained through daily work for the common good. Drawing on José Rizal, Benedict Anderson, and his own UA&P mentors, Cabrera argues that the truest measure of our progress as a nation is whether we still live in separate worlds—and that the real meaning of independence lies in using our freedom for the good of others.
Pio Pantaleon: What does independence mean and why should we care about it?
Atty. Ramon Cabrera: Let’s start with the factual thing. It’s essentially the Declaration of Independence led by our first president, Emilio Aguinaldo, 128 years ago. It’s a legal declaration that we, as a people, consider ourselves as sovereign from Spain. So in essence, independence is a legal claim to nationhood.
The main point that I want to drive at—and I think it’s of relevance to us today, given everything that’s happening in our nation—is that there’s a difference between a legal claim to nationhood and an existential claim to nationhood. To put it differently, different to call ourselves a nation, but it’s also different to say that we are actually a nation.
Yes, we claimed to be a nation more than 128 years ago. But if you observe how people act now, and how people view the common good, is it really the case that we consider ourselves as one nation?
That has a lot to do with how we view history. Our university professor emeritus, Paul Dumol, has always said that oftentimes we see Philippine history as a story of our freedom being lost and our freedom being won. We lost it during the Spanish colonization, we lost it during the American era, we briefly lost it during the Japanese era and during Martial Law, and then we regained it. And we leave it at that. So we regain it, and then we move on.
But should citizenship, should our relationship with our nation, really just be focused on that? Or instead, should we view history as a story of us coming together as one people? And with that, understanding that being part of a community requires the fulfillment of certain duties and obligations as citizens.
More often than not, we view citizenship as an entitlement to something. The other view of citizenship is that it’s an ethical choice: that being part of a community necessitates the fulfillment of certain obligations, particularly the need to work and sacrifice for the common good. We as citizens still need to reflect on this.
Sure, we are free from foreign colonization. Of course, it’s a threat within our territorial boundaries, but the real challenge remains: do we act, do we work and act as citizens, or do we work and act only for ourselves? So I think that’s the enduring question that we have until today.
Pio: When you said earlier that independence is a legal claim to nationhood, does that also apply to other countries that, for instance, didn’t have the need to declare independence to begin with? So what is their legal claim to nationhood, and is there any difference between that kind of claim as opposed to the claim that we make, which is this Declaration of Independence?
Atty. Mon: The root concept in that question is really: what is a nation? Oftentimes, we speak of nationhood as if it were something that’s always present.
For example, when we discuss people or protagonists in Philippine history, we always assume that these people have always subscribed to their identities being Filipino. You say, for instance, that Lapu-Lapu was the first Filipino to defend ourselves against foreign colonization. But did Lapu-Lapu even consider himself Filipino? To begin with, there was no such thing as a “Filipino” during Lapu-Lapu’s time. This is where I think Benedict Anderson’s point is relevant—that nations are cultural artifacts of a particular kind. Cultural artifacts, just like any other artifacts, has a definite starting point.
The circumstance was very different for other countries. For the United States, their independence was when they declared they no longer had allegiance to the British monarch. Other countries have other stories as well. But for us as a country, it’s quite different because our identity as Filipinos is something that is specifically dated. It’s not something that has always existed.
The Declaration of Independence in 1898 was surely a reflection of some measure of national consciousness. But it’s not reflective of everyone within what we now know as the Philippine archipelago. Certainly, the Muslims in the South did not see themselves as Filipinos.
So there are two views. We can always view citizenship as sort of a static concept that’s already well-defined, or we can view it as what Dr. Dumol suggested, as a project, as something that is constantly defined and redefined, depending on our place in history. To me, the good thing about viewing it as a project is also looking at it from an ethical standpoint: that our nationhood is not always guaranteed.
Nationhood is something that we as citizens need to continually work on. And we work on it through our participation in public spaces, through our participation in social issues, through our projects for the common good.
Pio: If nationhood is a project or a task to be progressively perfected, how does the commemoration of independence contribute to that project of building a national identity?
Atty. Mon: It’s relevant in so far as it’s a period in history when our people made that conscious choice to consider themselves as part of a national community. If I were to use an analogy, it’s like getting married. You go through a ceremony, sign a legal document. It’s the start, but it doesn’t end there. The real work of marriage doesn’t end with the wedding. It starts with your everyday interactions with your spouse.
It’s the same thing with nationalism. It’s the same thing with citizenship. It shouldn’t begin and end with independence. Rather, it’s something that we work on every day. Coincidentally, we’re in the month of June—we’re also celebrating the feast of St. Josemaría on June 26. He had a very interesting statement when he said that we are simultaneously workers and citizens.
Meaning our work for the common good isn’t a bonus. It’s not something that we just do if we have the free time, if we can escape from our work. Rather, it’s a moral obligation. It’s a moral obligation for being part of a broader community. And Independence Day is a good reminder of that. But more than just a one-off in 365 days in a year, we have to relive this every day through our adherence to laws, our participation in our conscious effort to be part in discussing public issues, our little projects that contribute to alleviating poverty and addressing social issues.
“Nationhood and citizenship, more than being products of culture, are really products of individual choices”
Malix Dumlao: How far are we in developing our nationhood? Is there a scale by which we can assess ourselves?
Atty. Mon: If you’re asking whether we’re there yet, that’s something we can’t definitively say. But if I were to offer a standard, it’s what José Rizal said and reflected on in the Noli Me Tángere: that we would know we’re progressing as a nation depending on how we view the common good.
Do we live in a society wherein we have our own individual worlds? Echoing Rizal, are the worlds of Capitan Tiago and Maria Clara different from the world of Sisa, of Basilio, and Elias? If we live in a society wherein different worlds exist, it’s an indication that we live in a society where we don’t have a sense of common good.
And if we don’t have a sense of common good, how can we claim that we are part of a nation? I think more than giving the answer to that, it’s something that your readers or you yourselves can reflect on just by observing our society.
To be fair, it’s not something peculiar to the Philippines. But it’s important to remember that nationhood and citizenship, more than being products of culture, are really products of individual choices. Echoing Dumol again, citizenship is an ethical choice we have to make.
Malix: In your opinion, assessing the political climate right now, do you think that we’re headed towards the right place?
Atty. Mon: The main challenge is that we still live in a society with different worlds. Our world, for example, is very different from the world of the people that live in impoverished areas.
We’re in a society where the world of the rich is very much different from the world of those of the poor, the world of the working class. While we have made some progress in terms of eradicating poverty—in terms of improving the lives of our citizens—much work remains to be done. Until that’s resolved, it’s difficult for us to say we’re living in one nation.
Malix: To tie everything back, what should independence mean for the Philippines and Filipinos?
Atty. Mon: Because of Independence Day, we now enjoy a certain measure of freedom. Of course, the freedom that Independence Day declared was the freedom from colonial rule—the freedom for us to chart our own course as Filipinos.
But there are two ways of looking at freedom. One is to look at it as negative freedom (meaning the freedom from constraints, the freedom from oppression, the freedom from colonization); and there’s also positive freedom (which is the freedom to do what is good). My view of it is that we should look at Independence Day as the challenge for us to actually use our freedom for the common good.