Extract

A. R. Enriquez. SAMBOANGAN: THE CULT OF WAR. U.P. Press, Diliman, Quezon City,
457pp. soft cover. Php600

Chapter 1

Moro pirate raids and village, folk said, continued storming the southern and
eastern coastlines, as did the wind and torrential rains during monsoon, they coño laid
waste villages and pueblos, not excluding the North region itself, of Las Islas de
Felipenas archipelago, ay, two years after Don Ronquillo was ordered to abandon the
garrison in Pulangi, Mindanao in 1597.
Don Ronquillo passed by Samboangan, you know, then and after much argument
with the fort’s commandant left most of his forces there before proceeding back to
Manila. Did not His Excellency tell you? he asked, prodding Commandant Colonel
Torres to give him a decent reply. What reason would you have then to remain here, here
in this desolate, infernal place. Still, he couldn’t tell him. He was not short for words,
rather his reply might be misunderstood as spawned by vanity and ambition. With every
Spanish officer gone, he told himself quietly, you’ll be the only one left to stop the
sultans of Lobon and Gornlic. Because unstopped, they’ll surely take the whole peninsula
and convert hijo de cabra everybody to Islam. And if you succeed stopping those two, you
shall then prove that you are a man, fearless, unequal in valor. Who knows? the King
might even promote you to a general ha ha and reward you a duchy back home. Grand.

1
But why kid yourself? He told himself if the Moros occupied the entire island I’ll be a
ruined man, as all my fortune I’d put here, in this very ambitious venture. Convinced that
the fort’s commandant meant to keep his reason to himself, Don Ronquillo had bidden
his good-bye, saying, It’s no cowardice to leave, Colonel Torres, when the enemy
chooses not to fight openly, or you’re ordered to abandon your pueblo by His Excellency
himself. How true, you couldn’t have said it better. But the fort’s commandant fixed his
plumed helmet on his head, and merely nodded in agreement. Yet, he said nothing,
and as if to distract himself he glanced at the ship anchored at the port which would take
Don Ronquillo back to Manila. Then thought of some relaxation in the Manila baths for
him and music and dancing Filipina belles at fiestas. What un hombre needed after
fighting gangs of bandits and pirates in the south. He was among the few Spanish officers
who had sent the Moro infidels running.
Not too long afterwards, the foolhardiness of abandoning the strong garrison in
Pulangi became obvious: the Moro pirates launched more impulsive, brash raids,
wreaking havoc and death, as thousands were either murdered or abducted and sold to
slavery. Before their congregation, several priests were culo de su puta madre brutally
murdered by the Moros — them encouraged by the absence of Spanish soldiers in the
principal town of Tayabas in Luzon, and the island of Marinduque. Many Christians were
beheaded. Jesús.
Massacre and abduction of young men and women were not uncommon during
those days, particularly in the eastern towns of Ormoc, Sogod, Cabalian, Camucan, and
Baybay.
At any time, between eighteen to twenty war canoes and more than 1,500 Moro
pirates were engaged in those raids. No fooling, it’s God’s truth! No mercy was shown
even to the children: Kill the Christian pigs! the infidel Moro pirates cried. Ta-éro!
Excrement! Oy, oy!
The coastal villages trembled in fear and terror. Even just a suspicious dot in the
horizon would send men and women and children running here and there, shouting:
Cuidao! ay Moros en el horizonte. And if the Moro pirates were already on the beach, the
frightened villagers shouted, trembling with terror, Cuidao! ay Moros en la a playa.
And the villagers would cower in the corners of their huts or run into the thickets
behind the village — their teeth chattering, and jaws clapping like Spanish castanets:
clack, clack, clack! Run to the hills! Fly! Hide from the heathen Moros, screamed
Christians and pagans alike.