It seems, until now, our local historians can’t quite break out of a self-inflicted
straitjacket. Notwithstanding the challenges brought by the burgeoning field of
prehistory, the emerging techniques of ethnohistory, and developments in
linguistic theory, our national historians, even in this age of globalization
of knowledge, can't come to terms to a borderless account of Southeast Asia. A
lot of controversy still hounds the seaboard rulers of pre-Hispanic Manila and
its environs, and the very person of Rajah Lacandula (r. 1558-1571) stood out
foremost among them. In the end, these protagonists exhaust themselves out for
want of ammo and with little purchase to latch on. And just when you think the
issue had cooled down somewhat after the proverbial kitchen sink had been
thrown into the fray, the rubbernecks, seeing the weary warriors slink away,
scavenge among the rubbles and then finding a splinter or two that titillate
their fancy, starts rekindling anew a fresh-wound controversy.
Many
modern writers take exception to the use of the name "Rajah
Lacandula." The reasoning goes that within Lacandula
is already built in the title, so that 'Rajah' is a mere redundancy, a sour
appendix that could conveniently be lopped off without royally hurting the man,
really. But the Spaniards, playing by
the ear mostly and having no patience to investigate, innocently scribbled
whatever they'd heard, and as was their wont they hispanized the letter 'k'
into 'c.'
Isolating
the title from the name, we get the words 'Lakan' and 'Dula.' But following
this split–like a panhandler from out of nowhere suddenly appearing on your
windscreen at the red traffic – the question begs itself: what is Lakan – and who is Dula?
A few
modern writers were convinced that "Rajah" was "never used in
the original sources" in so far as Lacandula is concerned. What
"original sources" they mean we can only muse on because everybody
else in this era is called Rajah like Rajah Matanda, Rajah Sulayman (Rajah Muda
or Crown Prince), etc. What made them confident in putting up such an issue is
the perceived "redundancy." No less than Nick Joaquin himself, seeing
a crack, went out on a limb to point out that the term Lakan, and not Rajah, was
used by the rulers of Tondo. And who dares joust with a national icon?
Let's follow Joaquin's train of thought in Manila, My Manila (1990), as he, fuelled by a nostalgic romp, boldly
speculates on Lakandula's religious beliefs:
"Tondo's Lakan Dula may
have been unusual in being neither foreign nor muslim. This was indicated by
his use of the native term Lakan instead of the foreign title Rajah. Lakan dula
can be presumed… to have been reared in the anito cults. One guess is that he
converted to islam, then changed his mind and returned to his native faith."
Trouble
is, the terms "Rajah" and "Lakan" are alleged to be the
"same thing." Joaqun had no difficulty finding converts as shown by
the following internet entry:
"Unlike the rulers
of Manila who were heavily influenced by Brunei, the rulers of Tondo retained
their indigenous titles and did not call themselves "rajahs". The two
words, "rajah" and "lakandula" simply negate each other.
" <https://sites.google.com/site/truelakandula/confusionsonlakandula>
This is
sad because I find the above website, otherwise, very interesting and a great
resource. Before dealing with the redundancy, let's plumb first the real
culprit brought by splitting the wrong compound. The actual Tagalog word is Lakáng Dúla recorded by the Spanish
chroniclers as Lacandula. Now, it's crystal clear that the trailing 'n' in Lakan has mighty little business being there,
being that the Spanish rendition had already elided the letter 'g'. The word is laká,
a Tagalog form of the Javanese raka,
never a native one at that (for the penchant of the Tagalog to adapt words
differently, compare for example the Iranūn word uran,
meaning rain, and the Tagalog ulan).
It's somehow related to another Javanese word rakai
(Ilocano lakay), the primary meaning of
which is "elder, grandfather." Raka
in Iranūn vernacular is kaká, an
appellation still very much alive among the Ranaū-Iranūn (Maranao) today.
To bring
home our point, oft times the linker is different, e.g. Lakambini in Lakáng Bini. Of course, when the name starts with a
'd' or an 's', the linker is 'n', e.g. Dayansalong
for Dayang Salong. Now to round off, let's throw in our ten-cent into the
begging bowl: the name 'Dula'.
It has been maintained that to evade being hounded by the
Spanish, many aristocrats kin of Lacandula, especially those who revolted
against Spain, hid behind some permutations of his name like "dulay,"
"rebadulla," "duldulao," "dulalia,"
"dulayba," or some such. <https://sites.google.com/site/truelakandula/jewish-1> However, in tracing the root-origin of Dula,
Dr. Antonio Guerreiro and Rederick Orlina were unanimous that Lacandula is a
Muslim name because, in Brunei (as in other Southeast Asian countries), Dula is
the common shortened name of the Arabic Abdullah (Ab'dula). The practice
of taking the later syllables of a full name as one's moniker persisted through
the centuries. When the British Captain Thomas Forrest visited Maguindanao in
1775 on the pretext of taking census, the crown prince was fondly referred to
by his people as Datu Nain, though his full name was Iskandar Dulkar'nain.
The
success of Catholicism in the country is undeniable. Christianity is a
beautiful religion and the bulk of the Filipinos is a grateful recipient of it.
One need only point out that the first native Indio listed as belonging to a
Christian religious order was Martin Lacandola, unmistakably a descendant of
the famous Tondo ruler. But for the life of me, I can't see why Lacandula is
being hauled away from his Bruneian ancestry, never mind his belief, when his
very person is pivotal as a reference point in tracing the ancestral royal
lineage of many a clan of Luzon as Pangîran Adipati Agung Muwalil Wasit (Râja
Bongsu) of Sulu is the ideal bridge in reckoning the broader canvas of
Southeast Asia. Lacandula, as a key historical figure, is an ancestor to which
many prominent families in the Philippines today look upon. Among his reputed
progenies are: Don Dionisio Capulong (Batang Dula); Datu Magat Salamat, the
Muslim Chieftain of Tondo who revolted; Phelipe Salonga, who was exiled to
Mexico; Martin Lakan Dula, who entered a religious order; Luis Salugmoc, and;
Maria Poloin, maternal ancestor of José Rizal.
Now, for
the "redundancy," here is another excited entry in the internet:
"Rajah and Lakan
are both titles. So, Rajah Lakan Dula is an oxymoron. It is just like Don
Mister Lopez or Miss Binibining Gloria. Either you call it Rajah Dula or Lakan
Dula or Gat Dula but never Rajah Lakan Dula. " <https://sites.google.com/site/truelakandula/confusionsonlakandula>
Believe
it or not, it is this very "oxymoron" that these early ancestors of
ours were striving to achieve! Don't trust me, and ask any seasoned genealogy
bard and they will tell you why. I've just finished keying in about two-hundred
entries ( ca. 1400 to present) from my copy of the Royal Brunei Ancestry into my database and am shifting to
Sêlangor, and, boy, do they love their titles trailing by a mile. Here is a
typical entry: General H.R.H. Kebawah Duli
Maulana Paduka Sri Sultan Haji Sir Omar ‘Ali Saif ud-din III Sa’ad ul-Khair wa
ud-din ibni al-Marhum Sultan Muhammad Jamal ul-Alam Khair wa ud-din, Sultan and
Yang di-Pertuan, Brunei Dar us-Salam.
That's
the present Brunei Sultan's father for you. These people must be wrapping their
titles around themselves like a bandolier! "Redundancies" in titles
sometimes results as a consequence of transition from an old setup to a new
one. In the 18th century the various Islamized royal houses of the South were
hesitant to let go of centuries-old titles and styles lest their realm get
confused and unwittingly provide an opening for an adversary to exploit, or
apprehensive that their assumed hierarchical rank diminished. So they came up
with a less-than-tidy solution: fuse them. The title Datumulok, for example, is a deliberate fusion of
"Datu" and "Mulok." Mulok
is derived from the Arabic Mulk or Malik, which means king. Since Datu means king too, then we're bound to obtain the
"oxymoron" king-king. The last
of the Datumuloks in Ranaū-Iranūn was Sayīk Batawi of Tugaya, son of Sultan
Mangotara of Binidayan and Baȳalabi Dampologan of Owato. Coming into disuse,
today, Datumulok had denigrated into a common name.
A close
look at some of the titles reveals legacy Sanskrit or Malay or Hindu or
Javanese titles dovetailed to the sported titles. This practice is not only
confined to the royals but also to the rest of the nobility. The title Gūruālim is a fusion of Guru (Hindu) and Alim
(Arabic), the two meaning 'teacher' or learned man. When the public fully
appreciated the import of the term Alim,
the holy man let go of the crutch and Guru
was eventually dropped, although even today, you could still hear after-dinner
stories about the ancient Gūruālim who could walk on water.
In the case of Raja
Lacandula, redundancy is less an issue, a
no-brainer, because Raká in its pristine form is not up to par (and were never
meant to be) with Raja–but more of an endearment to elders like the Kaká in use
by the Ranaū-Iranūn. For example, my personal genealogy consultant is Kaká i
Bantog Romīro, an octogenarian of Kialdan. In an 1887 article by Isabelo de los Reyes in Los Regulos de Manila, José Rizal identified Raja Soliman as Raja Mura
(young Raja) in opposition to Raja Matanda, which in the same article De los
Reyes wrote that Raja Matanda and Lacandola are one and the same person. John
Foreman, in his book The
Philippines, also noted that Lacandola,
the Raja of Tondo was also known as Raja Matanda, the aged Rajah.
Raja is
the title invariably assigned by the Brunei royalty to their satellites. The
great Raja Laká Dula collected tithes from anything that floats (ships in all
sizes and shapes) into the radius of Manila Bay, and furls their sails pending
settlement of their dues. So he truly was a Raja in name and in deed. His
mother, Pangîran Istri Putrí Ysmeria, was the fifth child of Sultan Bolkiah
Shah Alam as mentioned in the Brunei annals.
