The Mexican connection

Fig. 1 Francisco Clapera. De Barsino y Mulata, China (From Barsino and Mulatto, China) c. 1790

From 1564 to 1565, Spanish explorer Miguel Lopez de Legaspi travelled from New Spain to the Philippines. According to historian Edward R. Slack Jr., this voyage opened up the Pacific Ocean to new maritime commerce between the Americas and Asia. The Manila-Acapulco trade that ensued likely brought my Mexican ancestor to Marikina. Don Santiago Sauza was born in Jalisco, Mexico in 1777. He married Dona Ysabel Berenguer de Marquina y Sumulong, my Irish-Filipino-Chinese great, great, great (great?) grandmother and ruled as a member of the Spanish colonial government in the early 1800s.

I wanted to learn more about my Mexican ancestry.  However, a simple Internet search revealed that a love for boxing is about all contemporary Filipinos and Mexicans have in common. Perhaps “Filipino” and “Mexican” were the wrong terms to use. Maybe, if I can get the keywords right I can learn what Don Santiago might have already thought about mixed-race Filipinos like his wife, Dona Ysabel.

To start, the Philippines was never directly ruled by Spain in Europe, but through a separate office in New Spain or today’s Mexico. The Vice Roy of Spain ruled the Philippines; in other words, the Philippine colony was ruled by another Spanish colony. There are few academic sources that explore the movement of native Filipinos to New Spain. However, the galleon trade ensured that the flow of native Filipino sailors, slaves, and merchants settled into today’s Mexico City and its surrounding areas. There were certainly Filipino descendants in New Spain during Don Santiago’s childhood and early adult life.

In Slack’s article, “The Chinos in New Spain: A Corrective Lens for a Distorted Image,” he argues that Filipinos who arrived in New Spain were referred to as chino (male) or china (female) by the vice royalty to distinguish their “Asian-ness.” He depicts their life in New Spain as a necessity to the vice royalty, but a problem to the local people. On the bright side, chinos of any status were allowed to set up small businesses as well as become members of the colonial army. They were able to lead independent, self-sustaining careers that they would not have otherwise enjoyed in the Philippines. On the not-so-bright-side however, they were also targets of xenophobic outrage by the local merchant classes. Chinos were seen as unwanted competition in a concentrated market and often depicted as a race of people out to “sully” the whiteness of the Spanish.

The above image from Mexico’s Casta paintings depicts the chino as a dark-skinned mix of African and Indian ancestry. They were considered an “impure” caste according to Slack. What I found interesting is the formulaic terms the Spanish created to make sense of the racial mixing that took place in New Spain. These formulas make no scientific sense. They only seem to emphasize the need for Spanish purity.

Example of Casta racial formulas (p.58-59):

Negro (Black) + India = Lobo

Lobo + India = Chino

Chino + India = Albarazado

India (native) + Spaniard = Mestizo

Mestiza + Spaniard = Castizo

Castiza + Spaniard = Spaniard

So, what did my ancestor Don Santiago think of the Filipinos or chinos he met in Marikina? From Slack’s article it would appear that he understood their necessity to the Manila-Acapulco trade. He would have likely understood that they too were a mix of other “inferior” races. If the latter equation above speaks to thoughts on racial inter-marriage, Don Santiago might have also believed that his Mestiza wife was worthy of his union.

Source
Edward R. Slack, Jr. “The Chinos in New Spain: A Corrective Lens for a Distorted Image,” Journal of World History 20.1 (2009): 35-67.

Mixed race and mixed identity

Worcester Photographic Collection, courtesy of the Museum of Anthropology, University of Michigan. (http://ocw.mit.edu/)

It was a bit of a surprise to learn that my ancestors were European – let alone of aristocratic stock (see My Mexican, Spanish, Irish ancestry?). I have only known myself as either Filipino or Canadian and, on some days, both. My dad is a very proud Filipino who idealized his impoverished post-war childhood. If there was any sense of him having any European privilege, it was never made known. So I had no idea his mother was raised among the elite and, for whatever reason, left its’ comforts all behind. I do not know very much about her story. Sadly, she passed away before I could get to know her well.

In this post, we will be using my estranged family history to explore the constructs of identity and ‘Filipino-ness’ in Winnipeg. I am sure that there are many of us second generation Filipino-Canadians who know little about our roots and want to learn more. We imagine what it might mean to be ‘Filipino’ in a country that isn’t the Philippines and live through the memories of those who have actually lived there. The Canadian part of us is often questioned by the fact that our parents might not have been born here. So, we have to come to terms with what our identity might be and what preconceptions our race represents. How much of our understanding of race influences the construction of our identity? Does history have anything to say about this?
This post will examine the experiences of Canada’s Red River Métis and the Philippines’ mestizo as a reference to understanding mixed racial identities. It will conclude with a review of my distant cousin’s genealogical website (www.familiasauza.web.com) and his perception of our European ancestry.

Before I examine the mestizo experience in the Philippines, I think it is important to first reference the Métis experience here at home. According to political scientist Samantha Hill (2001), the Métis (descendants of European traders and Aboriginal peoples) were historically discriminated against and failed to gain legal recognition until recently. For centuries they were omitted from legislation as neither racially Indian nor European. Notably still, Canadian authorities refused to recognize the Métis people as a nation with their own territory and system of governance. By the late 19th century, Red River Métis lands were confiscated without compensation to make way for European settlers. As Indigenous peoples were moved to reserves, the Métis were left landless and displaced. Hill argues that the Métis identity subsequently descended from a nation to a race (Hill, p.48). In other words, the Métis nation was colonized to fit racial definitions undefined by them, but by the new Canadian government.

The Philippines’ mestizo experience begins in the 17th century when Spanish voyagers and missionaries arrived on the islands to both conquer and convert. They fathered children with local women to add a European mix to an already racially diverse population. For centuries, the Philippine islands were an outpost for indigenous, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Hindu and Muslim traders. The children of these unions with the local peoples fall under the umbrella term today as ‘mestizo’ or ‘mixed’ in Spanish. To have mixed Spanish blood specifically according to political scientist Hazel M. Mcferson (2002), meant a spot on the Spanish colonial apex. The fair-skinned mestizo ranked well above the Indio (the darker skinned indigenous peoples) and below the Spaniards born in Spain and the Filipino creole (Spaniard born on the islands). This hierarchy is still felt today well after Philippine Independence from the Spanish in 1898.The same privilege and wealth of those days past remain with few mestizo clans.

We can see that the experience in Canada and the Philippines is similar, but different. They both share a European connection. However, they differ in terms of their relationship with their European lineage. Canada’s Metis were not accepted as an independent people by Canada’s early full-blooded European leaders. The Philippines’ Spanish Mestizo however, was accepted as a member of Mother Spain (to varying degrees of course) that he/she was more than willing to comply to. This leads us here finally to my estranged family tree and the seemingly unyielding desire to appear more European than Filipino.

The Sauza-Berenguer de Marquina Official Website is written by my distant cousin and family historian, Prince Victor Salamat. He claims to also be known by his German and Irish name, Prince Heinrich Fitzgerald. The site conveys a strong sense of pride in my family’s aristocratic heritage. The reasons for this, we may argue, are of the assumptions associated with our Spanish lineage – that we are well-to-do, educated, and of worldly historical significance. A scan through the site will source relations to Charlemagne, John Fitzgerald Kennedy (yes, that Kennedy), and former Philippine President Corazon Aquino. No data or historical documents are provided to substantiate these claims. There are only mentions in the welcome message of oral histories passed on between generations. I am not writing this blog to support or refute what information is found on the site (maybe in a later post). However, it is worth noting that the site’s overall tone is telling of Filipino perceptions of identity – the more European the better.

So, what does all this mean for the construct of identity and ‘Filipino-ness’ in Winnipeg?

I want to underline the fact that Canadian identity itself in Winnipeg is already tenuous. The Red River Métis and their early claim to what is now Winnipeg never gained formal recognition by the early leaders of today’s Canadian government. There is an underlining urgency today to exert what it means to be an independent Métis. For Filipino-Canadians in Winnipeg, we must add another layer. Before arriving as immigrants to Canada, Filipinos must recall their own historical racial biases. To be fair-skinned, well off, and of Spanish descent in the Philippines means to be closer to resembling (colonial) authority. To come to a settler country like Canada may mean that a mestizo Filipino would expect a lateral change from the racially hierarchical society they left in the Philippines. In other words, being of European descent in the Philippines facilitates upward mobility. But, in Canada, this is not necessarily the case. There is a conflict between Philippine perceptions and Canadian realities when it comes to the construction of ‘Filipino-ness’ in Winnipeg. There is no clear historic advantage to being of mixed European descent here. Perhaps, this is why I don’t share the same overwhelming pro-mestizo sentiment found on my distant cousin’s website. Is this part of what it means for me to be ‘Filipino’ in Winnipeg?

Being Filipino and Canadian really is as complicated as I thought.

Sources:

Hazel M. McFerson. (2002) “Filpino Self Identity and Self-Image in Historical Perspective” in H.M. McFerson, ed. Mixed Blessing: The Impact of the American Colonial Experience on Politics and Society in the Philippines. Westport: Greenwood Press. pp. 13-42.

Samantha Hill. (2001) Race and nation building: a comparison of Canadian Metis and Mexican Mestizos. Masters of Arts Thesis. University of British Columbia. https://circle.ubc.ca/handle/2429/11311  (cited 23 September 2013).