The Weight of History

On September 23, 1972, through Proclamation No. 1081, then-President Ferdinand Marcos Sr. declared the entire country under Martial Law. The former president justified his declaration by citing threats from Communists, dissidents, and Islamic insurgents. He imposed constitutional authoritarianism to build what he deemed a “New Society.” This allowed him to gain extensive powers, effectively sidelining the Constitution and the coequal branches of government, particularly the Supreme Court. Power was concentrated in the hands of the President, effectively making him the chief executive, chief legislator, chief justice, and commander-in-chief of the armed forces. The real intentions behind the declaration remain a subject of endless debate between opposing views.

However, the pandemonium that ensued cannot be denied. The basic rights of the populace were stripped away. Citizens could not freely express their opinions, lest they be tagged as dissidents. The government took control of the press, sanitizing the news that reached ordinary Filipinos and the rest of the world. Anything that painted the Philippines or its government, especially the President, in a negative light was censored. This opened the door for abuses. Those perceived as threats to national security, even those merely expressing dissenting views, were immediately arrested. Some were subjected to torture. Meanwhile, private businesses were taken over by the government and redistributed among the President’s cronies. While some remember it as a period of relative peace, others recall it for its excesses. Constitutional authoritarianism was, in reality, a euphemism for dictatorship.

With freedom of speech suppressed, several Filipino journalists became political prisoners under the Marcos dictatorship. Among them was Antonia Rosca-Peña, who was detained for six months and interrogated several times before she was finally released. Following her release, she raised funds to help others hide from Marcos’s security forces. When she was about to be arrested for a second time, she sought help from a cultural attaché at the U.S. Embassy. Rosca managed to evade arrest by going into political exile in the United States, aided by the attaché who helped her join an international writers’ program in 1977. Freed from the tentacles of the dictatorship, Rosca finally pursued her literary aspirations, although one of her earlier works, Bitter Country and Other Stories, had already been published in 1970.

To love was to regain the capacity to remember a world without names, to recall by virtue of the whorl above the beloved’s knucklebones and to blue of the veins beneath the skin the unbearable fragility of mornings in this countyy, to find October odors trapped in the skinfolds between her toes along with the scent of talcum powder and soap and human sweat.

Ninotchka Rosca, State of War

Following the overthrow of the dictatorship, Rosca returned to the Philippines. Two years later, she published her debut novel, State of War. Divided into three parts, the first, The Book of Acts, begins innocuously, introducing the three protagonists: Eliza Hansen, Adrian Banyaga, and Anna Villaverde. The trio is traveling to the island of K—— to participate in its renowned Festival. The Festival commemorates the battle between native islanders and Spanish conquerors and the island’s eventual liberation from colonial rule. Though the archipelago had long since earned independence—over three centuries under Spanish rule and nearly half a century under American occupation—freedom remained withheld from the people. Replacing the colonizers is the Commander, whose troops keep the populace under control.

The novel’s second part, The Book of Numbers, lays out the landscape of the characters’ lives, delving even into their genealogies. Adrian was born into a prominent, well-connected, and affluent family. He was raised by his grandfather, Old Andy, a lawyer who cheated on the bar exams to marry the woman of his dreams, Estela. Meanwhile, Anna’s father, Luis Carlos Villaverde, is the illegitimate son of Carlos Lucas and Mayang, the daughter of a maid who had long served the Villaverdes. The couple had two daughters, Clara and Clarissa, but Mayang had an affair with her husband’s business partner, Hans Zangroniz, a German also known as Chris Hansen. Luis Carlos eventually became a famous musician who, during World War II, joined the guerrilla movement. Eliza Hansen, on the other hand, is a descendant of Chris Hansen.

The plot thickens and the action intensifies in the third and final part, The Book of Revelations. From the past, the story returns to the present. Once again, we are taken to the Festival. Revolutionary leader Ismael Guevarra is plotting to assassinate the Commander, who is expected to attend the festivities. Guevarra coerces the three main characters into participating in the plot. Each has personal grievances against the Commander. Like the author, Anna was a victim of Martial Law. She was once detained by military authorities solely due to her allegiance to Manolo Montreal, a vocal opposition leader. During her detention, she met Guevarra, who had also been imprisoned for insurgent activities.

While she was scoping the area where the Commander was expected to be, Anna learned that it was being secured by the military, led by Colonel Urbano Amor, her original torturer. Adrian protects Anna from being exposed to the military. Interestingly, the Colonel was hired by Adrian’s father to monitor his son, and he was also one of Eliza’s admirers. Unfortunately, the assassination plot failed. Before it could even be executed, Adrian was captured and drugged by the military. Under intense scrutiny, he was compelled to disclose parts of the plot and the locations of the dissidents. He managed to escape and tried to make up for the betrayal by warning Anna. However, the bomb detonated prematurely, before it was set to explode. As a result, Adrian was crippled.

Women were in communion with the gods, praying to the river, the forest spirits, the ancient stones, pouring out blood libations in evening rituals; healing the sick, foretelling the results of wars, quarrels, couplings, and the seasons. They walked with wisdom, dressed simply in an ankle-length piece of cloth wrapped and knotted about the hips, breasts left bare–until the Spaniards infected them with shame and made them hide their strength beneath layers of petticoats, half-chemises, drawers, skirts, blouses, shawls, and veils.

Ninotchka Rosca, State of War

With its unconventional structure, State of War unfolds as a multilayered narrative. On the surface, it presents a simple assassination plot, but it is much more than that. As the story progresses, it expands to chronicle a significant portion of contemporary Philippine history, particularly from the late 19th to the 20th century. The declaration of Martial Law serves as a logical starting point, as it is one of the most defining events of the latter half of the 20th century. Many of the country’s modern maladies are traced back to Martial Law. To the uninitiated, the Commander represents the Filipino strongman, Ferdinand Marcos. Interestingly, the Commander is merely a figurehead in the novel—he never appears—and his family is simply referred to as the “clan.” Nevertheless, their presence reverberates throughout the story and dictates the characters’ actions.

The abuses committed by Marcos’s forces, particularly the Philippine Constabulary, left indelible marks on their victims. To stifle rebellion and civil disobedience, many were forcefully arrested and subjected to unimaginable forms of torture to extract confessions or intelligence. Others were secretly abducted by state agents who refused to acknowledge their fates or whereabouts. Forced disappearances remain prevalent today, with suspected dissidents still abducted by the military. Survivors of such ordeals, like Adrian, have horrific stories to share. Journalists and writers also faced censorship. After the fall of the dictatorship in 1986, numerous documentaries and literary works emerged, shedding light on the atrocities committed under Marcos. State repression is most palpable in the government’s response following the bomb detonation.

The novel’s title, State of War, takes on a deeper meaning. It is juxtaposed with a festival, a cultural expression to which Filipinos have a deep attachment. It is a convergence of myth and history. The mirth and revelry of the festival contrast starkly with the country’s dark past, starting from the Spanish period to the Marcos era. From the twenty years of Martial Law, Rosca exposes the underbelly of Philippine history by exploring the legacy of colonialism. The characters have complex ancestries—a mixture of ethnic Filipino, Malaysian, Chinese, and Caucasian origins—highlighting the country’s complicated past. This is further underscored by the story of Maya, from whom several characters trace their roots. As a young woman, Maya was sexually harassed by a priest, an echo of Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere. Rizal is the Philippine national hero.

Maya also embodies indigenous Filipino values and knowledge that were later erased by colonization. As an ancient priestess, she symbolizes pre-colonial female power. Her story reflects the Philippines’ violent past, beginning with the abuses of Spanish colonizers and the hypocrisy of the Catholic Church, and continuing through the American and Japanese occupations. The dictatorship is a modern extension of this violent legacy. Remnants of colonial heritage can be seen in the country’s social structures and institutions. Elite control, for instance, persists, as seen in Adrian’s family, who benefited from and perpetuated these legacies. Systemic corruption also stems from this tumultuous past. Colonel Amor represents state surveillance, military oppression, and moral decay.

He moved then, without willing it, helplessly, and sank himself into the swamp of her delirium, as her fever broke and her bones melted in a cold sweat that drenched him and the bedsheets, soaking his chest, his legs, his armpits so that he thought he was making love to the monsoon and was himself dissolving into a needle spray of rain and the pungence of washed leaves and cleaned tree bark in a festival to end the dry season.

Ninotchka Rosca, State of War

The number three is a prominent motif in the novel, an indirect homage to the Philippines, which has three major island groups represented by the three stars on the national flag. The three main characters symbolize different facets of Philippine history and culture. Adrian and his family represent the elite class. Anna represents the dissidents and rebels who opposed dictatorship and foreign occupation. Eliza, a vendor of “special favors,” represents survival through cunning; she is the mistress of a high-ranking military officer. The novel is also divided into three main sections with Biblical titles—an allusion to the country’s predominant faith, Roman Catholicism.

Beyond colonial legacies and violence, the novel explores national identity. The three protagonists, individually and collectively, embody the country’s heterogeneous identity. Filipino identity is shaped by both memory and myth. The festival, a recurring motif, reinforces this theme; it represents cultural identity while highlighting the cyclical nature of history. Another key theme is the Filipina experience. Women are physically and sexually abused. Their bodies become political battlegrounds, as in Eliza’s case, and symbolic ones, as in Maya’s. From this history of oppression, feminist resistance emerges. Female characters—especially Maya, Eliza, and Anna—embody resistance across time.

Chronicling the landscape of the Philippines’ not-so-distant past, State of War is an imperative and integral read for understanding the nation’s violent and complex past. It is a thought-provoking and engaging work that weaves history, myth, and social commentary into a rich tapestry. Rosca skillfully explored several socioeconomic and politically relevant and enduring themes. She captured the country’s history of systemic violence and elite control, both legacies of the country’s colonial past. It then transforms into state oppression, military surveillance, and moral corruption, to which the denizens respond with activism and, radically, rebellion. National identity and memory are also prevalent themes. While dense and sometimes difficult to follow, Rosca captivates readers with her lyrical and descriptive prose. In an age of historical revisionism, novels like State of War are essential reminders never to forget history.

It was a kind of sin, certainly, to forget—but it was not easy to remember, especially when names changed, languages changed. A century-old name held that century; when replaced, a hundred years were wiped out at one stroke. Amnesia set it; reality itself, being metamorphic, was affected.

Ninotchka Rosca, State of War
Book Specs

Author: Ninotchka Rosca
Publisher:  Anvil Publishing
Publishing Date: 2019 (1988)
Number of Pages: 360
Genre: Historical, Literary

Synopsis

A lavish festival amid a long-drawn war – the defining image of this allegorical novel – portrays the deep-seated consciousness and longings of a people facing the dark days of the Martial Law regime.

Desperate for relief from the violence and repression in the city, Eliza, Adrian, and Anna set sail for the island of K— to take part in a popular festival, hoping to lose themselves in the crowd, to dance and drink the nights away. Yet, amid the merrymaking, the young people find themselves pulled into a series of schemes that shove them, inch by inch, towards an inevitable doom.

In this gripping tale of revelry, torture, subterfuge, and warfare, State of War creates a forceful impression on readers of exhuming the buried bodies and forgotten atrocities of a repressive regime, and illuminates the conflicts and turmoils of an entire country and culture.

About the Author

Ninotchka Rosca was born Antonia Rosca-Peña on December 17, 1946, in the Philippines. She received a Bachelor of Arts degree in English (Comparative Literature) from the University of the Philippines Diliman. Post-university, she worked as a journalist for various Philippine publications. With the declaration of the Martial Law, Rosca was one of several journalists incarcerated by the regime. After being detained for six months, she was released. After her release, she raised funds to help people hide from Marcos’ security forces, which placed her once again under military scrutiny. When she was about to be arrested for a second time, she sought help from a cultural attaché at the U.S. Embassy. Rosca managed to evade arrest by going into political exile in the United States, aided by the attaché who helped her join an international writers’ program in 1977.

As a writer, one of her earliest works was Bitter Country and Other Stories (1970), a collection of short stories. In 1983, she published her first work while in exile, The Monsoon Collection. In 1986, Rosca returned to the country after the dictator was deposed. Two years later, she published her first novel, State of War. She followed it up with another novel, Twice Blessed, which was published in 1992. The novel earned Rosca the 1993 American Book Award for excellence in literature. More short story collections followed: Sugar & Salt (2006), Gang of Five, and Stories of a Bitter Country (2019). During her exile, Rosca is a prominent voice in activism, having worked with Amnesty International and the PEN American Center.

She lives in the neighborhood of Jackson Heights, Queens, in New York City.