PI Day 39 -Remontados and The Nayon

Quilombo. Cimarron. Remontado. Mawon. All of these are words that mean Maroon.

I was a sophomore or junior in college when I first learned of Maroon Societies –communities that grew from runaway slaves, often in the mountains or far from town/city centers where people could live free from the oppression of slavery and colonization. Over time, I began to pay more attention to the concept of “marooning” through history and its possiblities today.

Oli spent some time working with Haile Gerima on his Maroon Project in D.C. and as she learned more about the maroon societies, we talked about what it might mean to be a maroon in today’s globalized, industrialized, hierarchical world. While neither of us may have a clear answer for that, we both knew that self determination and creativity were qualities of Maroon Societies that we wanted to learn more about and highlight in our Third World/Global South communities. There are so many stories about how globalization and neo-colonialism has negatively impacted our towns, cities, and countries, but there are so few stories about the people in the communities that are working to rebuild the strength and identity of the people and places that have lived under a colonial thumb for years –neo-maroonism? Doesn’t sound that great, but you know what I mean.

In our historical studies, we came up with examples of Maroon Societies in the Caribbean, in South America, and North America, but while I was reading Francia’s A History of the Philippines: From Indios Bravos to Filipinos, I finally found an example of Maroon Societies in the Philippines! As I was reading more about the Spanish colonial period I read about Dagohoy’s Republic in Bohol.

Francia writes:

“The longest uprising during the Spanish colonial period took place on Bohol and was led by a cabeza de barangay, or barangay chief, Francisco Dagahoy. From 1744 to 1829 –an astounding eight four years –Dagahoy and his followers numbering in the thousands lived in self sufficient farming communities they had built in the mountainous interior of the island, for all intents and purposes declaring independence from Spanish sovereignty.

…they…emphasized the traditions of bayanihan, thereby eliminating tribute and forced labor… In effect, they had become what the Spanish termed remontados –literally, “those who remount,” i.e., take to their horses and leave the Spanish controlled barangays, or people who had chosen to live outside the jurisdiction of the colonial state. Hampering the Spanish authorities’ campaign to subdue the rebels were the well entrenched positions and fortifications the latter had erected in their mountain lairs. Additionally, sympathizers provided them both supplies and information regarding possible Spanish attacks” (84-85).

Another form of rebellion that Francia notes in his writing was the nayon, the barrios that still exist today:

“outside the main population areas, where small groups of inhabitants had enough to sustain themselves sans extravagance, lived in a spirit of cooperation and harmony (bayanihan), and usually had a village elder to shape communal policies and adjudicate conflicts. In the nayon, life was a hybrid, an amalgam of traditional and Hispanicized mores…It was a rebellion, sans violence, sans fanfare, neither accepting colonial rule completely nor rejecting it outright” (90).

While I’m sure there were negative aspects to these communities (all communities have weaknesses) it was nevertheless nice to read about the everyday revolutionaries that the history books don’t always cover. Next, the modern day maroons! They live. I know they do.