Forgotten Triumphs

Last week’s piece on Quezon City was longer than I had written in a while. The material was plentiful and I had to leave out some interesting tidbits. It was, after all, a personal take on the city that I’ve returned to after 35 years of wandering about.

Most historical narratives leave out unrealized plans and unbuilt monuments. Quezon City is one big unrealized dream – that of a transformation to the grand capital of a new nation. It is no wonder then that it has more than its share of monuments that did not see the light of day.

Nationhood was a long and difficult road that took the country over half a century to achieve. Each stage was marked by great celebration. Quezon City was to have built a huge triumphal arch to celebrate the attainment of independence from the United States of America in July of 1946. The arch was designed by Guillermo E. Tolentino, premier sculptor of his day. It was supposed to have graced the rotunda that marked the intersection of Highway 54 and Quezon Boulevard, a fitting gateway to the planned new capitol complex beyond.

Triumphal Origins

The story of this arch of triumph actually began much earlier, 67 years ago to this month, in fact. On October 25, 1935, the University of the Philippines Alumni Association, under the guidance of the current UP president at the time, Jorge B. Vargas, announced its plan to construct a monument to commemorate the inauguration of the Commonwealth of the Philippines.

Tolentino was the sculptor chosen. He was the natural choice, being connected with the university’s school of Fine Arts and having just completed the magnificent Bonifacio Monument in Caloocan. His first task was to design and build a model of the arch for approval of then President Quezon and the National Assembly.

It did not take Tolentino long to produce the maquette. This was presented and quickly approved by Quezon and then sent to the National Assembly, which promptly passed an Act authorizing the erection of the monument in Manila.

The cost of the monument was set at P500,000, a huge sum at the time. To raise this money, the Post Office issued commemorative stamps, which the public was enjoined to buy. P350,000 was raised in two years. Funds were short but on November 15, 1938, Mrs. Aurora Quezon laid the first trowel-full of cement on the monument’s foundation. Unfortunately, the war got in the way and a triumphal arch was furthest from anyone’s thoughts for the next decade.

The Triumph Of Independence

With liberation quickly came the promised independence. America was quick to rid itself of any more responsibilities and hightailed out of the country, leaving us with little of the promised aid Roosevelt had assured President Osmeña. Still we managed to pick ourselves up and rebuild the city and the country albeit almost brick by brick.

In 1958, the idea for a triumphal arch was revived by the Philippine Historical Association. It was now intended to commemorate the inauguration of the Republic of the Philippines. Tolentino revisited the design and made appropriate changes. A new site was also selected, on the intersection of Quezon Boulevard or what is now known as EDSA.

The arch was to be 27 meters tall, 22 meters wide and 8 meters thick. Although it may sound small by today’s standards, its scale was matched to the size of the rotunda at the intersection. The triumphal arch was, according to Tolentino, "characteristic of our native singkaban (festival arch)." The sculptor had fashioned the flat arch with rounded or streamlined edges in the Art Deco style, he did not change this basic shape.

Supporting the arch on both sides were figures of men moving a house a la bayanihan. Tolentino meant this to signify national community and cooperation, saying that this encompassed "Christians and Non-Christians alike…" The two bases on each end would carry sculptural relief. One end would have a mother breast-feeding a child with an older one clinging to her. On the other side would be a grandmother telling stories to her grandchildren, as Tolentino put it, "narrating the achievements of Filipino heroes to the youth of the land."

Elevators would be provided to carry visitors up an observation deck where they could take in the vista of a young Quezon City (remember that there was no taller structure around – the Quezon memorial was to take another 15 years to build).

Tolentino planned to further embellish the arch with bas-reliefs of outstanding historical events like Lapu-Lapu’s victory over Magellan, Rajah Soliman’s resistance to the Spanish, Bonifacio’s Cry of Balintawak, Jose Rizal’s martyrdom, the inauguration of the First Philippine Republic in Malolos, the inauguration of the Commonwealth, the last stand in Bataan and finally the inauguration of the new republic on July 4, 1946.

The arch was meant as a monument to the Filipinos’ quest for freedom and nationhood. The triumph was one that came after four centuries as a colony. One could say that it was a monument more fitting as it symbolized collective effort, compared to those that had been built or planned at the time; that focused on heroic deeds or influence of single men like Rizal, Magellan, Legaspi, Bonifacio and Quezon.

The arch was also a fitting landmark for the neo-classic template of Quezon City, one that had grand avenues, large rotundas and sweeping views. The city’s original planners traced their pedigrees to Daniel Burnham and the patterns on which he based his re-working of Washington DC and the original Manila Plans at the turn of the century. These plans were all evolved from models like London, Rome and Paris.

Tolentino had visited all these cities and was impressed by them. He studied in Rome, had walked down the Champs Elysees and admired the Arc de Triomphe. He felt that the premier city of the Philippines deserved no less. Many others felt the same. Plans were being threshed out in the late 1940s and all through the ’50s for the new capitol complex in Novaliches, a plan whose grandiose proportions saw actualization only in the megalomaniacal building spree of the Marcos era (and in a different location, land reclaimed from the beaches of Pasay).

The Triumph Of Urban Blight

Quezon City was never fully built out as the capital. Few of the buildings planned were built. The arch was never built and exists only in Tolentino’s archives.

The rotunda on which it was supposed to stand lasted until the 1970s. Instead of the grand arch, a sculpture consisting of two large hands shaking was put up to celebrate Philippine-American friendship. That disappeared in the onslaught of EDSA’s road widening.

The grand vistas of Quezon Boulevard are now blocked by the MRT and other infernally -built infrastructure. The sweeping panoramas of Quezon City are today blighted by informal settlements, the spaghetti of utility wires and the patchwork of countless subdivisions punctuated by mega-monstrosities that house what today passes off for social activity and community – shopping.

There is little today to celebrate as triumphs. People Power 1 and 2 have their memorials, but these fail as landmarks because they are neither sited prominently nor are they appreciated well under the steadily thickening layers of soot and grime that EDSA produces. Our recent triumphs seem to just be worthy of left-over roadside space, traffic islands or small donations of land overwhelmed by flyovers.

Triumphal Failure And Hope

Last week produced even less triumph in the performance of the Philippine contingent to the Busan Asian Games. Our 18th place notwithstanding, our performance left much to be desired. Like STAR columnist Teddy Benigno points out, the only gold medal winners were those who did not benefit from government’s support. Benigno also notes that we used to lord it over Asian countries in almost all sports …as well as all other aspects of development and democracy.

I suggest then that we build triumphal arches to celebrate real triumphs and real heroes – like our overseas workers (whose sweat, suffering and dollars are keeping us afloat). We should erect monuments to the likes of Paeng Nepumeceno, RJ Bautista, Django Bustamante, and Antonio Lining. The elegant image of Mikee Cojuangco-Jaworski on Rustic Rouge would be perfect for a grand sculpture jumping across EDSA!

We need to be reminded that if we just stop horsing around, the Filipino can succeed. And oh yes, I’ll bet Ateneans are thinking of building a Blue Eagle Triumphal Arch as we speak.

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Feedback is welcome. Please e-mail the writer at citysense@philstar.com.