One of my students was making the point that perhaps the reason why LGBTQ+ rights aren’t being given much of a priority is because of the many other more pressing issues around the world—the ongoing war on Gaza, the encroachment on our territory and harassment of our fisherfolk in the West Philippine Sea, etc. Another student responded, “Hanggat hindi malaya lahat ng bakla, walang taong malaya.” Until all queer folk are free, no one is.
The Bakla in Philippine Culture
“Bakla” is a term that has been used as an insult, to push people down. It is also still used today to generally refer to people who don’t identify as straight.1 Some believe that the term comes from the combination of the words “babae” (woman), and “lalaki” (man). Interestingly, the Visayan term “Bayot” may have come from the combination of “Bayi” (woman) and “Utin” (male genitals). Informal assumptions like this about the origins of indigenous words are widespread; another would be that “Bakla,” in the original baybayin, is BA (babae), KA (spirit connection), and LA (lalaki). KA is symbolized by two wavy lines connected by a line, and one wavy line is the syllable HA. Hangin means wind, which is also breath, which represents the spirit. The syllable KA, as a prefix, acts like the English “co-.” We see this in words like kapatid (sibling: ka + patid, to cut) and kaibigan (friend: ka + ibig, sincerity + an, the act of).2
Based on what we do know, we might’ve actually used the term “asog” to refer to “gender-crossers.” The asog may have held a similar spiritual role as the ritualist babaylan.3 Later on, we began to use the term “bakla.” Many say that its original usage is in reference to cowardice, which is why in older literature a character might say, “Nabakla ako.” (I was emasculated.) But “bakla” didn’t only mean cowardice; it meant, more generally, “emotional”—but it was used synonymously with cowardice in that the asog or bakla would do things that men aren’t normally supposed to do.4
Today, we hear the reclamation of the term “bakla” among members of the community. It’s a relevant term, even in academic discourse.5 After all, “bakla” doesn’t just mean “gay” in the western sense—it encompasses orientation, expression, and identity. It refers more broadly to those who live beyond the heterosexual norm. Filmmaker Rafael Ma. Guerrero had pointed out how the archetype of the bakla in Philippine cinema so often represents the outsider—and as an outsider, they see things about society that most people don’t see.6 It is a kind of shamanic insight that is similar to the one held by the asog or babaylan, indigenous figures who can be of any gender. Some ancient accounts, such as the Boxer Codex, even describe them as men wearing women’s clothing, or being with other men.
Babaylan Archetype
In the past few decades, the archetypal “babaylan” has been used by activists as the symbol for queer and feminist liberation. Grace Nono wonders whether this generalized construction of the precolonial ritualist is truly inclusive. They pointed out how this movement, though important, holds that the colonizers wiped out all the babaylan—effectively ignoring the lived experience of contemporary babaylan who still practice today.7 Also, Nono pointed out how the use of the archetypal babaylan is popular among the affluent and westernized, and is rarely, if ever, rooted in actual practice.
We must remember, then, that the mindful and appropriate use of these terms must necessarily include the lived experience of the indigenous. The babaylan archetype is incredibly powerful, not just for activists, but also for psychologists, culture workers, artists, and other spiritual practitioners—she embodies the cultural experience of creative mysticism. She represents the mythic depth of collective memory as well as the transcendent perspective of the societal outsider. But she is not a relic of the past; she is alive today. Our approach to liberation shouldn’t be limited to the archeological: it should be relevant today.
Relevant Queer Activism
I hesitate to use the term “queer” because it is, first and foremost, a foreign concept with its own history. But, being that it is a relatively general term that many of us understand, I use it here to refer to identities that don’t align with social norms and standards surrounding identity. An inclusive and relevant queer activism is intersectional, and it considers historical, socioeconomic, and political aspects of culture. It is decolonized in the sense that it challenges foreign standards, and indigenized in the sense that it recovers what is naturally ours. It’s important to reassess whether foreign discourses surrounding queerness are actually useful in our particular context. To do this, let us look into some modern issues.
Reclamation of the Term “Bakla”
The reclamation of the term “bakla,” influenced heavily by western queer and gender discourses, has focused too heavily on the experience of those whose sex were male assigned at birth. As I mentioned above, “bakla” has been used as an umbrella term for quite literally anyone who doesn’t conform to the macho ideal. Many young men who grew up with the term can be limited by the common stereotype of what a bakla is supposed to be attracted to, despite also having attraction towards other genders.8 This leads to the invisibility of other identities, such as bisexuals, who may not fully resonate with the stereotypical bakla identity.9 Terms such as “silahis” (used mainly for male bisexuals) are awkward and outmoded. Terms such as “paminta” (referring to someone who is pretending to be masculine, or “pa-men”) only strengthen the homo/hetero binary. Interestingly, there isn’t as much said about lesbianism either (also tomboy, tibo, binalaki, etc.) in terms of research or social activism.
I remember attending my first pride march in Marikina—this was years ago. The hosts called on each member of the LGBT to cheer one by one. They called all the Gays, Lesbians, and Transgender folks, skipping the bisexuals entirely. There seems to be a firm yet subtle discrimination against bisexuals. I am personally aware that many people consider bisexuals to be sexually greedy and internally homophobic gays relying on the safety net of straightness.10 This is a nasty, hyper-sexualized stereotype that feeds into the fetishization of queer identities. In fact, I had informed one of the organizers afterward about this, and he did say that they all had a very serious discussion after the event.
“Filipinx”?
The term “Filipinx” or “Pinxy” have been suggested to promote linguistic gender neutrality. While I do see the intention, we must also understand that Filipino languages are, at least in everyday use, more gender neutral than most western languages. We have always used “siya” as a gender inclusive pronoun, similar to “they.” One can of course argue about the specifics of gendered instances in our languages, but any person can be fluent in Filipino yet still come from an outsider’s worldview, much like the Spanish friars when they used the local language to indoctrinate the natives with their foreign values. So, the question is not whether or not “Filipinx” is a “good” term, but whether or not it is a “useful” term.
In any case, “Filipinx” may indeed be very useful in particular contexts, but speaking as a local, I have only heard this term used by the westernized. I suppose to us natives, it’s like asking a fish whether or not they’re wet. Nevertheless, by all means, use it if it helps you.11
Media Portrayal & Social Realities
We’ve seen numerous portrayals of the bakla in cinema and television, mainly as sidekicks or comic relief. Other times, we have seen what may be queerbait (e.g., Darlentina) as well as sincere attempts to subvert mainstream heteronormativity (e.g., My Husband’s Lover, Die Beautiful, T-Bird at Ako, and Markova: Comfort Gay). Today, local drag and ballroom culture are on the rise.12
However, despite the apparent social acceptance, society still imposes strict and often violent borders. I must include a clear content warning here on violence and discrimination, before you go on reading some examples:
Last year, the drag queen Pura Luka Vega dressed up as Jesus and performed a remix of the Tagalog version of the “Our Father” prayer. This drew the ire of many Christians, citing an archaic law against blasphemy or “offending religious feelings.” Pura Luka Vega is persona non grata in more than 10 local government units, including Manila City and Cebu City.
The noontime show “It’s Showtime” was suspended for showing an “indecent act” between the hosts Vice Ganda and Ion Perez (who were wedded in Las Vegas), feeding each other cake. Around the same time, another noontime show showed a kiss between a man and woman, for which the media board only shrugged off—this angered many people online, pointing out the apparent discrimination.
In 2014, Jennifer Laude was killed by a US Marine upon discovering that she was transgender. The killer was pardoned by former president Rodrigo Duterte just a few years ago. The 2018 documentary about this case, Call Her Ganda, can be streamed online.
What We Can Do
As my student said, we’re not free until queer people are free, and this echoes the importance of considering the variations of privilege depending on one’s identity. A person can, for example, resonate with being Filipino, but that doesn’t mean that all Filipinos around the world experience the same thing. There is a wide gap between socioeconomic classes, between what we call “burgis” and “bakya,” in that Filipinos from different classes will not fully recognize each other’s lifestyles. Filipinos in the Philippines may also have very different experiences from those in the diaspora. That said, we recognize that, in any global issue (e.g., famine, war, pollution, epidemics, etc.), it is the most vulnerable sectors of a particular society who suffer the most. The problems faced by the local LGBTQ+ community echoes the faults and flaws of larger Philippine culture. If a person needs to portray a certain personality, or suppress their authentic self, just to survive, then society actually has implicit rules on who gets to succeed.
Happily, there is growing awareness today on these issues, with gratitude to those who came before us. House Bill 4982, or the Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Expression (SOGIE) Bill, is an anti-discrimination bill that has been sitting in congress for more than two decades. It aims to protect vulnerable identities. Many societal issues still influence the discourses surrounding it, which is why it’s so important to indigenize queer activism. The SOGIE bill can definitely be a step forward, but we must keep in mind that there are other more fundamental issues that also need to be addressed for this to come naturally.
We can blame whatever we want for our current attitudes, but in the end, we will have to take personal responsibility. For example, religion, as a human institution, only amplifies existing human attitudes, and we’ve seen how, in history, it has been used to both oppress and liberate people. In other words, it’s not the religion but the person who feels strongly about the issue, and they would rather project their own attitudes onto a bible verse so that they can say, “I’m not the one saying that it’s wrong—God is!”13 On the other hand, scientific dogmatism has also been used to promote binary and essentialist notions of gender and sexuality. Genuine science is open to the variety of bio-psycho-social expression. These are the “languages” we use, but the issue is much, much deeper.
It all comes down to us, as humans, taking responsibility for our own actions. We must understand that, in our act of “othering” people, we are only strengthening the illusion that we are apart. In a world that is severely Kaniya-Kaniya (to each their own), we must move towards a Tayo (together) mindset—as allies, but more importantly, as kapwa.
Reflection Questions
How does your particular experience expand or limit your perspective on and understanding of LGBTQ+ issues?
Knowing what we know about culturally influenced SOGIE, how can we be better allies to most vulnerable communities?
A. Presto, 2020. “Revisiting Intersectional Identities: Voices of Poor Bakla Youth in the Philippines,” Review of Women’s Studies 29, no. 2.
I share this insight in my essay for last year’s pride month, Remembering “Siya”: How Precolonial Philippines Viewed Gender Diversity, published in Spot.ph. It came from a discussion I had with a LGBTQ+ advocate.
D. De Guzman, 2016. ASOG: Emergence of the Male Babayan. Aswang Project.
T.M. Ildefonso, 2022. “From Asog to Bakla: Genealogical Analysis of the Philippine History to Diagnose the Roots of Homophobia.” Humanities Bulletin 5, no. 2.—I really, really like this paper. I would recommend this wholeheartedly.
M.I. Deleña, A.G. Masalunga, E.P. Tighe, F.P.A. Demetrio III, 2019. “Establishing the Most Appropriate, Formal and Academic Filipino Translation of the Term ‘Male Homosexual.’” Asia Pacific Journal of Education, Arts and Sciences 6, no. 2.
R.M. Guerrero, 1996. “Archetypal Images in Philippine Cinema.” In Jung Festival ‘95: A Glimpse Into the Collective Unconscious Volume One. Ateneo de Manila University Office of Research and Publications.
G. Nono, 2023. Babaylan Sing Back. Ateneo de Manila University Press.
M.J. Otanes, 2021. Why ‘Bakla’ is Problematic. Inquirer.net.
A. Presto, 2019. Why the Term ‘Bakla’ Can be More Closeting than Liberating for Some. Rappler.
C.L. Cervantes, 2023. Not a “Phase”: Being Bisexual in the Philippines. Spot.ph.
Read more: Tatler Asia, Vice, Rappler
Read more: Nylon Manila, Scout Magazine, PhilSTAR L!fe
One could, of course, also say that even God knows that you’re gay (Luke 12:7).
Great article! This reminded me of what my professor said regarding LGBTQIA+ research in the Philippines, like there’s so much research regarding LGBT but how would it make sense if in the context of our country, SOGIE is still being hindered as a law? Where is the application? Anyways, just my thoughts. Something I also had to ponder on, haha!
Happy Pride!