History has been traditionally told from the privileged perspective of the nation-state. For Filipino historian Renato Constantino, it is only within the context of a people’s history that individuals, events, and institutions can be correctly appraised.
“Powerful leaders, and especially tyrants, exerted efforts to ensure that the history of their time would be written in their image,” wrote Constantino in “The Philippines: A Past Revisited.” “Their subjective attitudes were a dominant influence in the recording of events.”
This is the case for writers who focus on “alternative histories.”
Ateneo de Manila University history professor Michael Pante defines alternative history as “decentering the nation-state as the central actor or focus of the historical narrative,” and where common people’s histories are given space and recorded. One of the university’s most recent books, “The Singing Detainee and the Librarian with One Book,” is a collection of essays on alternative histories.
In 2019, author Michael Beltran found himself deep in conversation with the late Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) founder Jose Maria “Joma” Sison and his wife Julie de Lima — Filipino revolutionary leaders in exile — as well as a community of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) in Utrecht, Netherlands. For Beltran, “exiles” are those whose tethers to home soil have been maliciously severed. Either for political or economic reasons, exiles are those who are forced to leave their lands dressed in invisible chains.
Piqued by his curiosity about political refugees, he began to explore the complexity of being an exile and a migrant. In the book, Beltran attempts to record the history of the exiles — those driven away to write history from their homes.
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“It is in many cases, a permanent tear of the body from a land whose borders are either shut or a danger to them,” he says. “It is a horrible fate and a constant state of longing…”
Beltran does not claim to be completely unbiased in his record of history. He shares his admiration for revolutionaries and divulges small details about his upbringing in proximity to the movement. However, for him, the book is an opportunity to listen to a part of history that people have not heard enough of, and at the same time to also talk about Julie de Lima.
“I was curious about the conditions of life in exile and how these revolutionaries ended up there,” explained Beltran. “Through our conversations, I learned about the important relationship of activists like Purificacion ‘Puri’ Pedro, and the patience and optimism of Arthur ‘Art’ Garcia, who also sacrificed his life for justice and peace but whose name hasn’t been documented enough.”
Beltran said that there’s a lot that the public does not know about political refugees and the people who shape their lives, and it was important for him to document this — the humanity of the people behind the revolution.
Below, the author talks about publishing a book on alternative histories, at a time when history is being rewritten.
How does it feel to publish a book on alternative histories, especially at a time when history is being rewritten?
According to Marxist theorist Walter Benjamin, “There is no document of civilization that is not also a document of barbarism,” meaning our history shows how brutal the ruling system of the rich is, and how it has been violent to the people. History is a history of class struggles, so in the book, I wanted to talk about the people who tried to write history differently but were exiled. To me, it’s the history of people on the fringes, the history of the past that is still being written.
The book I wrote was about people in the Philippine liberation movement in the 1970s but I still had to take extra security measures for the sources because of the current political atmosphere. In 2019, I was still using the real names of the interviewees mentioned in the book, but after the change of administration, a lot of the migrants and exiles contacted me to change their names. They’re so far away but that tells you that they still feel fear about their safety. The chilling effect has been very real.
Can you walk us through the process of completing the book and compiling the essays?
Graham Greene’s “Getting to Know the General: The Story of an Involvement” is one of my favorite books. I thought about it when approaching these interviews with political leaders, especially in writing about these leaders outside of their roles and tracking their lives over developing circumstances.
I followed an essay format of compiling the stories because personally, I like short story formats. I threw ideas at Larissa Mae Suarez, the book’ s editor, and we decided on essays. Though we did debate a bit about whether to call it “stories on exiles.”
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But the main thing is there were too many moving parts, it was like a jigsaw with a thousand little details for puzzle pieces, best to keep everything as succinct as we can. So I also didn’t want to make it a single big narrative.
My interviews with Joma and Julie were already over 40 hours long, and I had more or less the same length of hours with other exiles and people although with fewer sessions.
I also had to visit the National Library and the Ateneo Rizal Library to cross-check important dates and facts because I can’t just rely on interviews, especially on key points in history.
Why did you focus on exiles?
Because these political exiles are waging a revolution for a country they can’t go home to. I felt it was an unexplored topic. Personally, though, I have always had this fascination with people and distance, of leaving and coming home. When I think of airports for example, I tend to wonder about the different stories of passengers sharing the same space. Isn’t everyone there just reuniting or separating? How much more do exiles experience this perennial distancing?
Although not as permanent as political exiles, OFWs can also be considered exiles since they depart the country due to economic and social crises. The community in Utrecht is strongly woven together despite differences; there are revolutionaries, communists, or just average OFWs constantly present in each other’s lives. It’s inescapable and also something that happened out of choice. I was amazed by the Filipino tendency to gravitate, to instinctively build community.
I can’t speak for all migrant workers from third-world countries, but the Filipino bayanihan culture stands out. Perhaps this togetherness being Filipino brings in, which I haven’t seen in the West. Maybe one will seek out their kin with greater intent when on foreign soil. Plus, Filipino labor is also commonly exported.
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The book also focuses on the stories of Filipino migrant communities abroad. How are they doing? What did you learn from writing the book?
The Filipinos in the Netherlands share different politics, some are regular Filipinos but they recognize why Filipinos like Joma and Julie wage revolution. I think this is a commonality the government doesn’t understand: at the end of the day we come from the same place. I am not an expert on migration and OFWs but when you speak to them, we just gravitate towards each other, not because a person is a revolutionary or not. The revolutionaries abroad understand this and because of that, they have good relations with compatriots.
I think it’s also important to point out that some of the Filipinos in exile are also in exile because of the drug war, so these exiles are not just political exiles, some chose to be in exile because of government policies.
In terms of what I learned as a writer, I was used to writing journalistic pieces that already follow a certain structure — nutgraf, quote, and ending, but you can’t follow that same formula in writing a book. You can’t start two chapters the same way. An additional lesson I got: I think it’s good to talk to older people because they have a lot of stories we don’t know yet.
How should we look at history?
The past is important because of the present — crisis begets fascism and is met with resistance. The point is to look at the past to understand our present conditions. I wouldn’t exactly call this a history book, perhaps just snapshots of personal histories.
In between the narratives, the book is a reminder that we live in a country with a revolution. And that some of its custodians have been banned by a government that won’t allow change to happen.
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