Fixating on What Language to Use

Why use foreign languages to explain Filipino concepts?

In my article Philippine Parapsychology, I described a new framework for understanding the Filipino psyche. It is called the Sarili-Mundo model, which places self (Sarili) in the context of the world (Mundo). Someone had pointed out that the word “mundo” is Spanish, and it would be best to use a “more Filipino” word, “sanlibutan.” My initial reaction was a mix of surprise and embarrassment. Immediately, I asked myself, “Why did I not think of that?” 

Foreign Words in Local Language

It’s absolutely correct that the word “Mundo” comes from Spanish. So do the words “regalo,” “pero,” “puwede,” “andar,” “kuwento,” “albularyo,” “kumusta,” and so on. If we visit places in the country that speak Chavacano, which is one of the hundreds of Filipino languages, we will hear the direct “Filipinization” of the Spanish language. We also use English words in ways that express our everyday experience, such as “comfort room” (toilet), which is unique to us. “Commute,” which simply refers to traveling to and from work, is locally used for traveling anywhere, specifically using public transportation. Many of our other words have Sanskrit and Malay origins. The word “Filipino” is not even a Filipino word. Filipinas was the name given to this archipelago by the Spanish colonizers, yet our revolutionary ancestors, asserting a common identity as katutubo (those who grew from the land), have adopted it as their own. There is still some debate as to whether we should use “Filipino” or “Pilipino,” since there is no “F” in our native alphabet. It uses the same arguments as with the relatively new word “Filipinx,” since “x” is not in our alphabet either.¹ Yet “Filipinx” is a very important word for those in the intersection of traditionally othered identities. But, again, “Filipino” is not even a name we gave ourselves.²

The “Right” Words

Academic Tagalog is an entire language of its own, and so is the regal Tagalog used in religious gatherings. Both tend to be inaccessible. When we focus too much on labels rather than meanings, we are, as Alan Watts said, confusing the menu for the food. I would rather use the terms we hear more often rather than make new words up or pull from out-of-touch sources, a tendency that many western philosophers and psychologists have a tendency to do. This is the problem with purists, who insist that there are “right” words to use when describing universal experiences. They are, as we like to say, pilosopo. This word, though coming from “philosopher,” isn’t a compliment about someone’s ability to think critically—rather, it is a dig at their inability to comprehend intuitive and contextual reality, as though they are outside of it. They come from an ibang tao (stranger) mentality, attempting to pin down what is dynamic constantly transforming, rather than dance with it like the rest of us.

Words are, to me, access points to real human potentials. The existence of a unique word within a particular language does not mean that only that culture has that experience. It just means that, in their cultural evolution, they have found this experience extremely useful, and so they had to label it so that it would be easier to talk about it. If, therefore, a culture uses a foreign word as a shorthand for an experience they share, then this word has become indigenized. It has become part of commonsense psychology. Filipinos are naturally multilingual, and yet there is no split in cultural consciousness.³

My use of the word “mundo” was not a conscious choice. I used it because it is an accessible word to describe the cultural experience of being part of something larger. Again, it is not the word that is important here, but the meaning behind it. To a lover I might not say, “Ikaw ang aking sanlibutan.” But I would say, “Ikaw ang mundo ko.” I use it in the same way the local band IV of Spades used it. Insisting that the word “sanlibutan” should be used rather than “mundo” distances the whole thing from common parlance. Admittedly, it is poetic, and I wish I had thought of that. But the fact that the word “mundo” came forward before the word “sanlibutan” has implications about folk psychology. 

An Invulnerable Culture

I echo the sentiment of Virgilio Enriquez, considered the Father of Sikolohiyang Pilipino, when he called the Filipino culture “invulnerable.” To say that our culture was totally destroyed by centuries of colonization is, he said, to denigrate our spirit. It is true that colonization has taken so much from us, including the potential of what we would have been. But we must resist imagining rosy alternate realities that romanticize pre-Spanish history—not only is it a form of cultural regression, it also ignores the reality of the Filipino today and downplays our historical struggles for independence. Our culture persists, and we’ve assimilated foreign words and symbols to better express our inner realities.

1. If we use the language argument, about how Spanish words ending in -a or -o are gendered, then we can say that “Filipino” is a gendered word, implying a binary opposite, “Filipina.” Initially, the word “Filipino” was used to refer to Spaniards in the Philippines (remember, the natives were called indio). Again, it was during the revolution against the Spaniards that we started applying this name to ourselves, subverting the power imbalance that existed. Thus, in the context of a language that is fairly gender neutral, “Filipino” now refers to any person from our culture.

2. Don’t fall into the political propaganda that promotes “Maharlika” as an alternative to “Philippines.” This word, which doesn’t even mean what most people think it means, has been used by the Marcoses in their myth-making—they claim that their wealth comes from the royal Tallano clan of the ancient Maharlika Kingdom. There is no “debate” surrounding its existence; there simply is no evidence.

3. One might now bring up the fact that I often use English to explain Filipino concepts. This is not new nor is it an actual problem: Filipino social scientists have always used whatever language is best to discuss and explain local concepts. It’s true that there have been movements that insisted on only using Filipino (that is, Tagalog) when talking about our culture. The criticism surrounding that is that it removed us from the global discussion—it created an exclusive (pang-kami) rather than an inclusive (pantayo) perspective. Language is a tool, and what’s more important is that we understand each other. If I’m speaking to an international audience, knowing of course that English is the language most of us understand, then I would use that.