The Prince of Luzon

IN SOME old textbooks, Pedro Alejandro Paterno is included in the roster (some would rather call it a Pantheon) of heroes because he is credited with the Pact of Biak-na-Bato in 1897. As you will recall, the Philippine Revolution against Spain erupted in 1896 and, after a year of fighting, we were about to win. Enter Paterno who told the Spaniards that he could arrange a ceasefire. He talked to the Filipinos and told them that the country needed peace. To cut a long story short, Emilio Aguinaldo and many of the revolutionary leaders left on a steamer from the port of Sual, Pangasinan, for Hong Kong. Fighting stopped temporarily, prompting one historian to call Paterno a "peacemaker."

In more recent times, however, Paterno has been studied anew and at least on my personal list of Philippine heroes, his name does not appear. Yet, I cannot seem to put him on my list of Philippine villains because his eccentricities make him interesting. For his services to the Spanish crown, for instance, he demanded a reward. He wanted to be declared a Grand Duke of Spain. After all, he was already the self-proclaimed "Prince of Luzon" who traced his ancestry all the way down to pre-colonial Tagalog nobility. A reward from the Filipino side came when he became president of the Malolos Congress.

In the correspondence of Rizal, we get to know about the parties Paterno threw in Madrid as well as the assortment of curios that he passed off as a museum in his home. Paterno even displayed a coat of arms on his carriage and other personal articles that was distinguished by a pair of carabao horns.

Our Prince of Luzon even had court costume. Photographs show him in a white robe, holding a staff topped with ostrich feathers.

It is from Paterno's imagination that the pomp and circumstance of the Malolos government drew its inspiration. There is a photograph of Aguinaldo seated in the center of Barasoain Church surrounded by generals in military uniform and the members of the Malolos Congress in their top hats and black coats. It is a fascinating photograph. There are no pews to block the view, everyone stands by the sides of the church, and there on a long table of Philippine hardwood are the leaders of government. Anahaw leaves and Philippine flags adorn the posts of the church and the backdrop for this grand scene, that today looks like polka dots, is actually a crude attempt to simulate ermine-yet another mark of royalty.

Paterno was also behind the great Malolos banquet of September 1898 that was the highlight of the day the Congress ratified the Declaration of Independence made in Kawit, Cavite, on June 12, 1898. As I have written a detailed account of this great party before, I won't repeat it here except to note that it was so impressive that Nick Joaquin declared that the Malolos menu should stand side by side with the Malolos Congress as a marker of Philippine progress. These printed documents, at least for Joaquin, constitute tangible proof that our nation had come of age.

Paterno was probably responsible for the ceremonial that marked the opening of the Malolos Congress, which was opposed by Apolinario Mabini who insisted that Aguinaldo remain a "dictator" to bring the struggle for independence to its logical conclusion. In Mabini's view, a dictator was needed during a war to make quick decisions without being hobbled by a Congress that could be convened when peace and stability have been established.

Aguinaldo is shown in a number of photographs outside Barasoain Church, seated in a grand carriage surrounded by mounted bodyguards in gala uniforms. He wears a top hat and carries an elaborate cane topped with ivory and gold. Liveried footmen in coats and powdered wigs complete the cast, making me once sigh and admit that at one time the presidency had real class. But then, to my great disappointment, I discovered that this elegant black carriage with footmen was borrowed from, hold your breath, the neighborhood "funeraria" [funeral parlor]! Aguinaldo had arrived in Barasoain in a hearse.

In retrospect, the opening of the Malolos Congress marked the end of the Revolution. Aguinaldo did not finish his term -- and one could say the same thing of Joseph Estrada who had the bright idea of having his inaugural in Barasoain. I'm sure that no superstitious president in the future will make the same mistake. With these two as precedent, inaugurals will always be held at the Quirino Grandstand in Rizal Park.

How come people tolerated the Prince of Luzon? Maybe they didn't know any better and were impressed by his flights of fancy. Perhaps he reflected a lot of glory from young expatriate students who once enjoyed the hospitality of his Madrid home, among them Jose Rizal. Because of "utang na loob" [debt of gratitude], Paterno was spared death at the hands of Paciano Rizal when he was en route to Biak-na-Bato. Paciano told Paterno that he did not want peace and wanted the struggle to continue until Spain was banished from the Philippines. Paciano admitted that he would have killed the peace negotiator if not for his earlier kindness to his younger brother Jose.

All the details and even conversation are recorded in Paterno's book "El Pacto de Biyak-na-Bato."

During the American period, Paterno tried unsuccessfully to win Governor General Taft's favor. By then his parties had lost their sheen, and the Prince of Luzon faded away.

Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.