The “long, pensive ride”

Friend and fellow Ateneo alum John Nery spent a large part of his November 25 column discussing "the most famous manifesto" in Ateneo de Manila's history: "Down from the Hill," a document published in the college paper forty years ago. Much has changed since the five writers put their heads and hands together to write the piece. Faculty members, John notes, often "involve themselves directly with the Philippine situation by taking positions in Philippine problems," so much so that those of us who work in the university and have been here for some time take it for granted. The Filipinization of the university began soon after that piece was published. The Filipino Department was founded. Philosophy began offering classes in Filipino. These days about half of all classes in philosophy, theology, and other core subjects are taught in Filipino. Courses in philosophy are now offered in Cebuano as well. In English, the teaching of Filipino texts alongside those of the Western world in our literature classes is de riguer.

Nery also notes, though, that much hasn't changed. What was self-evident then—that a power elite runs the country and owns most of its wealth, a state of affairs that is terribly unjust—is still self-evident now. The "long, pensive ride" the manifesto's writers took is a journey (to steal John's expression and redirect it) we all must embark on, because it is the journey of re-commitment, re-dedication. We never stop going down from the hill.

A lengthy extract from John's column, with my emphasis added:

Forty years ago this week, the most famous manifesto in Ateneo de Manila University’s history appeared on the pages of the college newspaper, the Guidon. It asserted (as other manifestos in other schools had done) that “a revolutionary situation” existed in the Philippines, and then urged the radical renewal of the Society of Jesus and the “Filipinization” of the university.

“The history of modern political nationalism/activism in the Ateneo is usually traced back to 27 November 1968, the date the famous essay ‘Down from the Hill’ appeared in the Guidon,” writes former Ateneo de Manila professor Susan Evangelista.

Five undergraduates had gone up to Baguio City to write it: Jose Luis “Linggoy” Alcuaz, Gerardo Esguerra, Emmanuel “Eman” Lacaba, Leonardo Montemayor and Alfrredo Navarro Salanga (although this must have been before the late poet added the second “r” to his first name, I suspect). When the essay was published, its impact (in a pre-PC, pre-SMS, pre-WiFi age) was practically immediate.

Its most damning passage reads: “We find the Ateneo today irrelevant to the Philippine situation because it can do no more than service the power elite. Its academic community is unresponsive to the needs of the Philippine situation ... We therefore maintain that the Ateneo as a university has not exercised its moral and intellectual obligations of service to the oppressed masses but instead has catered exclusively to the oppressive power elite.”

* * *

When colleague Howie Severino reminded me of the manifesto’s 40th anniversary, I looked up my copy and was struck by how dated it all seemed. By that I mean that many of the issues it raised have become obsolete: its call, for instance, for the Philippine Jesuits to “undergo a renewal in the spirit of the Rio de Janeiro statement of May 1968”; its recommendation “that future policies of the universities [here including Xavier University in Cagayan de Oro] be determined entirely by Filipino Jesuits and laymen”; its appeal that faculty members “involve themselves directly with the Philippine situation by taking positions in Philippine problems.” (Reproductive Health Bill opponent and famous autodidact Francisco Tatad, however, may feel differently about the sometimes high-profile involvement of Ateneo de Manila faculty.)

All this is a measure of the manifesto’s success, that many of the dramatic changes it called for are now, and have been for a long time, in place; many, in fact, are simply taken for granted. This is not to lay all the blame (to use the Jesuits’ own ironic use of language) at the foot of the five essayists. In many ways they were a true vanguard: they heralded the change that was to come.

* * *

The political and cultural awakening that shook the Ateneo de Manila in the 1960s and 1970s, and whose fitful beginning we can date to the publication of “Down from the Hill,” changed everything. And yet, the jaded French are happy to remind anyone, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Consider Mikey Arroyo, the President’s son who is the current and intemperate kingmaker in Congress. Or consider (to offer another example) Jinggoy Estrada, another president’s son who uses the pulpit of the Senate to exact revenge on political enemies. I do not know if Montemayor (who graduated summa cum laude from Ateneo, worked closely with farmers, then served as agriculture secretary to President Arroyo) would agree with me, but don’t Mikey and Jinggoy belong, perhaps even define, this generation’s “oppressive power elite”?

Indeed, “Down from the Hill” grounds its analysis of the university experience on a reading of the national situation that remains relevant today. “These are self-evident. That a power elite controls government for its own interests over and above those of the great majority of our countrymen. And that this same power elite maintains an unequal distribution of the nation’s wealth, which action is unjust because of the great disparity existing between the rich and the poor.”

Perhaps it is time for another group of undergraduates to take that long, pensive ride up to Baguio.