Library catalogs into casualty lists
Carmen Guerrero Nakpil taught me to see the Philippines in 1945 from a different angle. Textbook history taught me about the 1945 “Liberation of Manila” from Japanese occupation. Nakpil, as head of the Manila Historical and Heritage Commission, referred to the same event as the “Battle for Manila.” After the smoke had cleared, Intramuros was a shell of its old self with an estimated 100,000 civilians killed. That’s about one in 10 Manileños slaughtered by the Japanese forces in the terrible 29 days that Manila was a battleground. Manila did not just lose buildings and people in 1945; it lost its soul. Little wonder that when we talk of Manila today, we do so in the past tense. Manila may be the current and historical capital of the Philippines, but it is like a ghost. Manila is just one of the 16 cities and one municipality that make up today’s Metro Manila or National Capital Region.
Some survivors of the Battle for Manila remember the scent of chewing gum or the sweet taste of chocolate bars distributed by American GIs as they marched into the city. This is what they want to remember rather than the smell of death and decay that lingered long after. As a historian, I mourn the loss of heritage buildings in Intramuros and Manila and of the paintings, sculptures, and historical objects in the National Museum. However, the silver lining is that some things survived. Contrary to popular belief, much of the holdings of the National Library and the National Archives continue to exist.
In March 1945, while the embers of the city were still alight, H. Otley Beyer began salvage operations on what remained of his museum and that of the Bureau of Science building. He was asked to do the same for the National Archives (then in the Oroquieta Street side of Bilibid Prison) and the National Museum and Library (then in the Legislative Building). Beyer estimated that about 5 million pieces of archival material survived the war.
The National Museum was not as lucky. Beyer described the Legislative Building as being “the most completely destroyed of any of the larger government structures, and in addition to being blown up by shells and dynamite, the interior was wholly burned out.” Of the library, only half a truckload was recovered, “mostly documents and letters which had been stored in an aged iron safe (burst open by a shell subsequent to the fire). These included some original letters by Juan Luna and Eduardo de Lete.” To date, I have not come across these in my research.
Beyer says the main collection kept in the National Library and Museum was “almost wholly destroyed by the fire which had gutted the entire interior of the building.” We know what was destroyed, believed lost, and later found based on a printed prewar catalog of the museum holdings. Beyer noted that “although most of the history and art collection was undoubtedly destroyed, it is believed that some of the metal objects may later be recovered when the ruins of the Legislative Building are excavated.” A bronze bust of Juan Luna by the Spanish sculptor Mariano Benlliure, found and sold as scrap metal after the war, was returned to the National Museum in 2023, after being believed lost or destroyed for 78 years. Paintings loaned to Malacañang and historical objects in the Mabini House in Nagtahan escaped destruction by fire in the Legislative Building.
Former National Library Director Eulogio Rodriguez, worried that the Japanese could commandeer the library premises for military use, had the foresight to transfer the Filipiniana collection from the Legislative Building to the Normal School (now Philippine Normal University) for safekeeping. He personally entrusted the original Rizal letters to a vault in Manila City Hall. His “bureaucratic bravery” makes him one of the unsung cultural heroes of World War II. Another unsung hero was the janitor ordered to transfer the rare Filipiniana from the lower floors of the Normal School to the upper floors to secure them from flooding and moisture. Through forgetfulness or laziness, two heavy boxes were left behind. During the Battle for Manila, the upper floors of the Normal School burned after United States forces shelled the Normal School to ferret out Japanese snipers. Beyer described the forgotten treasure as follows:
“About 3,000 volumes (including nearly 80 percent of the Tabacalera Collection … part of the Pardo de Tavera and Zulueta collections; and, sentimentally of most value to the Filipino people, the original manuscripts of Rizal’s ‘Noli’, ‘Filibusterismo’, & ‘Ultimo Adios’ constituting the more unique parts of the Collection.”
Rizal letters entrusted by Rodriguez to the Manila City Hall vault were lost. Beyer related that: “apparently the vault had been opened and partially looted while the Japanese were still in the building. The police and constabulary were asked to trace these documents, if possible, but so far have reported no success in the matter.”
While generals were counting bullets and bombs, librarians were counting books. From what was left, I built a career as a historian.
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Comments are welcome at ambeth.ocampo@inquirer.net
Ambeth is a Public Historian whose research covers 19th century Philippines: its art, culture, and the people who figure in the birth of the nation. Professor and former Chair, Department of History, Ateneo de Manila University, he writes a widely-read editorial page column for the Philippine Daily Inquirer, and has published over 30 books—the most recent being: Martial Law: Looking Back 15 (Anvil, 2021) and Yaman: History and Heritage in Philippine Money (Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas, 2021).


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