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Using 'aswang'
to fight Huks

HALLOWEEN decorations are sprouting all over our neighborhood,
to the delight of my favorite nephew. Times have really changed,
because toddlers today do not seem distressed to see plastic
ghosts, goblins and witches outside the gates dressed up for
"Trick or Treat."
For the second year in a row, Lizzie Zobel has challenged
neighbors to produce something more frightening than driveways
turned into spiders' lairs, with two giant black widows sliding
down cobwebs on carports. One house has white ghosts suspended
on trees, and another has the front lawn planted with tombstones.
My sister once decorated the front of the house with traditional
Halloween pumpkins, but they disappeared after the first night.
Even in gated communities, there are petty crimes.
The major production is in nearby Dasmariñas Village,
with one home having a complete, lighted tableau to rival the
old COD Department Store's annual Christmas display. This terrifying
tableau has no moving parts but has Count
Dracula (the classic Bela Lugosi type) helping his bride out
of a coffin.
Fortunately, our parish priest Fray Antonio Rosales, OFM,
takes all this in stride, unlike some clergymen in Capiz province
who cast a wet blanket over a rather innovative tourist gimmick
that was originally supposed to be the "Capiz Aswang
Fesitival."
By tradition, Filipinos have considered Capiz the center
of "aswang" [flesh-eating ghoul] stories. Real or
imagined, this is part of our folklore. But when the local
government wanted to capitalize on it, clergymen raised hell
as the Inquirer reported some days ago. One would think that
there are better things to get excited about, like poverty,
corruption, social injustice and the social structures that
promote these. One would think there are more relevant topics
to cover in a Sunday homily like the readings that are often
inadequately and clumsily explained, yet all that energy was
wasted denouncing the aswang festival.
I'm only going by the sensational newspaper report, though
I have asked for a copy of the pastoral letter on the aswang
festival read from the pulpits. If there is some moral or
doctrinal dimension, maybe we should sit back, listen and
reflect. But before all this, we should pinch ourselves to
be reminded that we are in the 21st century, not the Middle
or so-called "Dark Ages."
The controversy over the Capiz Aswang Festival reminded me
of the use of the aswang in the counter-insurgency efforts
of the Ramon Magsaysay administration in the 1950s. US Maj.
Gen. Edward Geary Landsdale in his book, "In the Midst
of Wars: An American's Mission to Southeast Asia" (1972),
provides us with this year's Halloween reading:
"When I introduced the practical joke aspect of psywar
to the Philippine Army, it stimulated some imaginative operations
that were remarkably effective.
"To the superstitious, the Huk battleground was a haunted
place filled with ghosts and eerie creatures. Some of its
aura of mystery was imparted to me on my own visits there.
Goosebumps rose on my arms on moonless nights in Huk territory
as I listened to the haunting minor notes of trumpets playing
Pampangueña dirges in the barrios or to the mournful
singing of men and women known as 'nangangaluluwa' as they
walked from house to house on All Saints' night telling of
lost and hungry souls.
"Even Magsaysay believed in the apparition called a
'kapre,' a huge black man said to walk through tall grass
at dusk to make it stir or sit in a tree or astride a roof,
smoking a large cigar.
"One psywar operation played upon the popular dread
of an aswang or vampire, to solve a difficult problem. Local
politicians opposed Magsaysay's plan of moving more troops
out of defensive garrisons to form further mobile and aggressive
BCTs [Battalion Combat Teams], and in one town the local bigwigs
pointed out that a Huk squadron was based on a hill near town.
If the troops left, they were sure the Huks would swoop down
on the town and the bigwigs would be their victims. Only if
the Huk squadron left the vicinity would they agree to the
removal of the guarding troops. The problem, therefore, was
to get the Huks to move. The local troops had not been able
to do this.
"A combat psywar squad was brought in. It planted stories
among town residents of an aswang living on the hill where
the Huks were based. Two nights later, after giving the stories
time to circulate among Huk sympathizers in the town and make
their way up the hill camp, the psywar squad set up an ambush
along a trail used by the Huks. When a Huk patrol came along
the trail, the ambushers silently snatched the last man of
the patrol, their move unseen in the dark night. They punctured
his neck with two holes, vampire fashion, held the body up
by the heels, drained it of blood, and put the corpse back
on the trail.
"When the Huks returned to look for the missing man
and found their bloodless comrade, every member of the patrol
believed that the aswang had got him and that one of them
would be next if they remained on that hill. When daylight
came, the whole Huk squadron moved out of the vicinity. Another
day passed before the local people were convinced that they
were really gone. Then Magsaysay moved the troops who were
guarding the town into a BCT."
One wonders, what other uses we can have for aswang in the
21st century aside from tourist festivals and counterinsurgency?
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu
Copyright 2005 Inquirer News Service. All rights reserved.
This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or
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