#thephilippines

My Hot Take:

I find it both unfair and unjust that we often portray Maria Clara from Jose Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo as weak, submissive, and unworthy of being seen as a representative figure for Filipinas. This perspective dismisses the strength and resilience she showed in fighting her battles, albeit in her own quiet and unconventional ways.

Let us begin by acknowledging that Maria Clara’s form of resistance was not about loud defiance or outward rebellion but rather about challenging expectations and societal norms in deeply personal and impactful ways. She didn’t just conform to the rigid standards that were placed on Filipina women during her time. Instead, she forged her own path- unfortunately, at great personal cost.

A Fight Against Expectations

Consider the pressures she faced: Maria Clara was expected by society, her family, and her father to follow a conventional role as a wife and mother. Yet, she made a conscious decision to reject these expectations. When she found out that she just lost the love of her life, she walked away from wealth, social status, and familial ties. This wasn’t a mere act of personal heartbreak—it was a rejection of material gains, social ambition, and the compromises that many women were expected to make just to fit into their predetermined roles. How many of us can truly say we would make such a self-sacrificial choice?

She refused the authority of her real father, Padre Damaso, who sought to marry her off to Linares, prioritizing power and status over her own happiness and autonomy. Her rejection of this decision was not just a personal choice—it was a defiance of patriarchal norms that sought to control a woman’s destiny.

Sacrificing for Family and Honor

Maria Clara also chose to protect her family. How many of us today could make a decision that places family loyalty and sacrifice above personal convenience? In our modern context, we see many Filipinos and Filipinas making similar sacrifices, leaving the comforts of home to work abroad just to support their loved ones. These individuals endure hardships to ensure their families have a better future. Maria Clara’s sacrifice, in a historical sense, mirrors this loyalty and commitment.

She showed us a different kind of bravery—subtle but equally significant. Maria Clara’s choices highlighted the strength that lies in prioritizing love, loyalty, and personal sacrifice, rather than seeking self-interest or social approval.

A Call for Empathy and Recognition

I understand that judging a woman from the 19th century by our 21st-century standards might seem tempting. But we must not erase the significance of her struggles and choices by labeling her as weak or submissive. Instead, we should celebrate the strength she displayed in navigating a world filled with oppressive social expectations, familial pressures, and patriarchal norms. Maria Clara fought battles in the only way she could—with quiet resilience, inner strength, and an unwavering commitment to her heart’s choices.

Let us recognize that strength isn’t always about loud resistance or public defiance; sometimes, it’s in the quiet decisions that demand deep personal sacrifice and inner courage. Maria Clara deserves to be seen not just as a symbol of weakness but as a representative of resilience, sacrifice, and the unyielding spirit of a woman who made tough choices according to her circumstances.

We are living in the remains of colonialism, such colonialism that is not even two hundred years old. For example the overtaking and cultural assimilation of the Philippines during the late 1800s and early 1900s as a result of the Spanish-American War, which eventually led to the Filipino-American War. These catastrophic events in history were primarily caused by the ideas of manifest destiny sought after the United States as an imperial power. Its greed for territorial land and control shaped the lives of the native people of those lands in ways unimaginable.

During this time, many artists captured the history of the ideas and emotions the imperial powers wanted others to consume, believe, and uphold. They used visual rhetoric through extreme exaggeration and corruption.

The political cartoon above, which was seen on a Judge magazine cover in June of 1899, was used as propaganda after the Spanish-American war was over and the United States was given control over the Philippines, Guam, Cuba, and Puerto Rico from Spain through the passing of the Treaty of Paris. This piece displays a crying, naked, indigenous Filipino child with an arrow in his hand being given his "first" bath by William McKinley, the U.S. president at the time. In this "first bath," the child is being washed using the waters of "civilization" and the brush of "education". In the background, there are two other children, who represent Cuba and Puerto Rico, who appear to have already been bathed as they have Americanized clothes on and no noticeable traditional attire.

The visual presence of the American Flag in the new clothes of the recently acquired territories and what appears to be the White House in the background create a sense of patriotism in the image. This might invoke the intended audience to believe what the U.S. is doing, especially President McKinley exclaiming “Oh, you dirty boy!”, is only doing what is best for the people of those lands. The ideas of Rudyard Kipling’s poem "The White Man's Burden" are exemplified through this and many similar propaganda posters. Such as this:

And this:

And this:

Grant Hamilton, Judge Magazine, 14 December 1902