Blood Could Be Thicker than Water in the South China Sea
/
Chinese railroad workers in the US. 1869. (Source: Canyonlands Natural History Association)
In the past, Chinese communities and individuals in the Philippines have been harassed, confined to hamlets, and pogromed. These days, they continue to be subjected to racist verbal abuse. Filipino progressives have also been disheartened by an initially inspiring socialist experiment that appeared to have gone astray. Now that China has become a global economic force that rivals the declining American power, a major aid donor, and able to effectively engage in soft power diplomacy, can we expect rampant and malevolent Sinophobia to weaken and eventually disappear? Not so fast.
These days, ultra-nationalist, chauvinist, and racist attitudes have been invigorated in the Philippines by the Chinese government’s unilateral and aggressive actions in the disputed formations in the South China Sea. China’s reactions to Philippine denunciations have been no different. Such narrow and counterproductive mindsets have spawned hostile exchanges between Filipino and Chinese sides that have exacerbated tensions and harmed relations. Saber-rattling and war-mongering have also surfaced.
Why couldn’t both countries set aside traditional and conceited notions of national sovereignty and territoriality and instead share the vast resources of the South China Sea? After all, country borders have already been rendered porous from the onslaughts of globalization. Furthermore, both countries have long opened up their economies to foreign participation, thus, diminishing formerly hard and fast rules on national control.
Additionally, isn’t it foolhardy for any one country to be so smug as to claim exclusive ownership and control of the open seas and its resources? Can’t these areas be considered as the “common heritage of mankind” in addition to seabed resources as mandated by the United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS)? It would also be instructive to heed the wise counsel of the late Dr. Aileen S.P. Baviera, who, as a professor of Asian Studies at the University of the Philippines, wrote about the territorial conflicts in the South China Sea in a November 20, 2016 article in the Straits Times:
“Over the years, some claimant states have set up armed garrisons and military bases, constructed concrete installations over hitherto unspoiled reefs and unilaterally enforced domestic jurisdictions over fishing grounds, fighting wars of words and filing legal suits over who should have jurisdiction over what and on what basis. It seems that governments have let their primordial territorial instincts rule them. There is folly in this. They seek control of the waters, as if oceans could be tamed, claimed and fenced off like the land.”
Baviera then advised that we broaden our minds and think out of the box:
“I cannot help but think of how presumptuous and foolish men are to think that this all belongs to certain countries because once upon a time, some person named or mapped or fished or navigated here before anyone else did. Looking out into the seemingly limitless ocean, one could not help but have a sense of being free from territorial boundaries. I thought of how being creatures of the land has taught most of us to think in terms of the state and its narrow interests.”
Beyond state relations, however, there are non-state perspectives on addressing territorial disputes. One of these can be found by tracing and unpacking the Chinese ancestries of many Filipino families. According to Philippine Senate records, as of 2013, there were approximately 1.35 million ethnic Chinese in the country, while Filipinos with any Chinese descent comprised about 23 million or about 20 percent of the population. The Climaco clan of Zamboanga City, of which I am part, belongs to the latter category.
My great grandfather's family name was Lú. His first name was Uteh. He was a Chinese immigrant to Zamboanga town in the latter part of the 19th century. It is generally accepted among family circles that he originally came from the Chinese province of Macau. He married a Teduray native, Juana Borromeo, one of three sisters from Tamontaka, Cotabato, who moved to Zamboanga in the 1880s. I wrote an account and analysis of the Teduray sisters’ intrepid 407-kilometer journey published in Positively Filipino on May 20, 2020.
Lú Uteh later changed his name to Jose Climaco. Why he did so is not clear. It wasn't mandatory for Chinese in the Philippines in the 19th century, or even at present, to change their family names even if they were Christianized (voluntarily or under duress). Perhaps he felt the need to blend in and transition to Zamboanga society. After all, he was in pursuit of a traditional Teduray maiden who would not have taken favorably to a suitor with a peculiarly sounding name.
The Climaco surname could have come from Lú Uteh’s former residence in Macau, a Portuguese colony since 1557. “Climaco” is apparently a common Portuguese family name, as a cousin, Dr. Raffy Climaco, pointed out. Families carrying the surname can be found not only in Portugal, but also in its former colonies, e.g., Brazil, Macau, Timor Leste, Angola, and Mozambique. There is an important commercial street in Macau named “Rua do Padre João Clímaco,” after a 6th century (CE) monk from Sinai.
Given a practice among naturalized Filipino citizens of Chinese origins in the Philippines to take the names of their Filipino patrons or employers, Lolo Uteh could have done the same. In other words, he could have worked for a Portuguese Climaco family in Macau. His experience with this family was probably harmonious and pleasant, so that he wanted to honor the relationship by adopting the Climaco surname.
If Lú Uteh had not changed his name, I (his great grandson) would have been Eduardo Lú Tadem. My mother would have been Lydia Cortes Lú. The martial law martyr Cesar Cortes Climaco, U Teh’s grandson, would have been Cesar Cortes Lú. Zamboanga City Mayor Ma. Isabelle “Beng” Climaco (a great granddaughter) would have been Maria Isabelle Lú.
The union between Jose Climaco (alias Lú Uteh) and Juana Borromeo produced seven children, 19 grandchildren, 67 great-grandchildren, and 95 great great grandchildren. In Zamboanga City and elsewhere, 27 different surnames can be traced to the Climaco-Borromeo marriage.
Wikipedia notes that Lú is shared as a family name by 5.6 million people in China. It is especially common in Guangdong, Guangxi, Hainan, and Hebei provinces. It can be spelled in many different ways including Lo, Luo, Loh, Law, Low, Liu, and Roh (in South Korea). According to UP graduate student Xinjue Ke, the primary meaning of “Lu” in ancient times is "a vessel for holding cooked rice." Later it came to mean “to collect, to gather, to catch, and to sift.”
Throughout China and other Asian and Western countries, the name Lú and its variants have been attached to emperors, empresses, generals, rebel leaders, activists, warlords, public officials, scholars, playwrights, businesspersons, film directors, poets, historians, sportspersons, communist leaders, prime ministers, novelists, actresses, martial arts masters, models, and fashion designers.
The great Chinese civilizations of the past that predated the West have given the world history-changing inventions and innovations such as astronomical observatories, modern agriculture, papermaking, printing, paper money, mariner’s compass, cast iron, decimal system, helicopter rotor and propeller, seismograph, matches, the wheelbarrow and plow, multi-stage rockets, the game of chess, and gunpowder.
For the Philippines, our vibrant and mutually beneficial precolonial trade ties also come into mind. These trade ties based on barter began with a delegation from Mai-i (Mindoro) that visited the Chinese court in 960 C.E. with the request for trade relations. Later, other areas like Eastern Mindanao and Sulu became part of the highly lucrative sea trade route. Chinese trading items included silk, porcelain, colored glass, beads, and iron ware exchanged for hemp cloth, tortoise shells, pearls, and yellow wax from the Filipinos’ side.
The intriguing genetic connection with such prominent company, the historical brisk trade relations and the contributions of China to world civilization should elicit pride and honor among the Lú-Climaco clan. Unfortunately, clan members are unmindful and show no enthusiasm about their ancestry. Such connections seldom, if ever, crop up in conversations in family gatherings or in social media messages. Worse, the Chinese ancestry is sometimes seen as a source of embarrassment.
The recognition and appreciation of the ancestral and historical ties to China of millions of Filipinos that could date back to precolonial times could conceivably serve as initial building blocks to pave the way for a common and mutually beneficial resolution of the South China Sea territorial dispute -- or any other dispute for that matter.
More important than state to state interactions are people-to-people exchanges and solidarity ties. Governments are often either myopic or half-blind while private business groups are obsessed with profit-making and cutting costs. The ruling classes, therefore, are unable to look beyond their narrow interests and self-absorbed perceptions.
It may, therefore, be up to the peoples of both countries to reach across the waters and the biases that disconnect us and build bridges founded on ideals of solidarity beyond boundaries, mutual benefit, internationalism, and a commons-based ownership and management of disputed and finite natural resources. The logical agencies for these cross-border interactions are civil society groups and community organizations, especially those engaged in alternative practices that challenge dominant paradigms of development.
Individual families with Chinese roots can also play a role, which can be realized by reaching out to discover long-hidden ties. The Lú-Climaco family has, no doubt, millions of potential relatives in China, not to mention thousands more of overseas Lú clan members. But it would be extremely difficult to trace which branch of the Lú family clan our great grandfather Uteh originally belonged to.
All is not lost, however. Mayor Beng Climaco, a first cousin, recounts to me that a former Zamboanga city official who is a Climaco relative once visited China to connect with relatives. The visit, apparently, was fruitful and communication lines were established. If such reconnections are replicated many times over, these would aid greatly in rekindling shared interests and people-oriented economic and social relations. These could then be the bases for a peaceful, mutually beneficial, and just resolution of territorial disputes over the formations and resources of the South China Sea.
Eduardo Climaco Tadem, Ph.D., is Professorial Lecturer of Asian Studies, University of the Philippines Diliman and Convenor, Program on Alternative Development, UP Center for Integrative and Development Studies (UP CIDS AltDev). An abridged version of this article appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer Opinion Page on September 26, 2021 on which additions, revisions and some corrections have been made for this expanded essay.
More articles from Eduardo C. Tadem, Ph.D.
