The banner we call ours

From revolution to ritual, the Philippine flag carries a nation's memory

- By FELICIANO RODRIGUEZ III

Each year, from May 28 to June 12, a familiar sight returns to cities, towns, and quiet neighborhoods across the Philippines.

Flags are hoisted from windows and rooftops. They line public buildings and street corners. They flutter above schoolyards and government halls. This two-week stretch isn’t marked by fanfare alone—it is an act of national remembrance.

For Filipinos, the flag is more than cloth. It carries the weight of history, a record of struggle, and the promise of what the nation still hopes to become.

The story begins with a battle in Cavite.

On May 28, 1898, Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo led Filipino revolutionary forces to victory against Spanish troops in Alapan, Imus. After the battle, he unfurled a flag that had never before flown on Philippine soil. It was hand-sewn by Marcela Agoncillo, her daughter Lorenza, and Delfina Herbosa Natividad during Aguinaldo’s exile in Hong Kong. The flag was new, but its message was clear: This was a call for a country of its own.

The flag bore symbols that reached far beyond design. The white triangle stood for liberty, equality, and fraternity—ideals borrowed from other revolutions. The blue stripe stood for peace and justice; the red for courage and the blood already shed in the fight for freedom. In the triangle’s center, a golden sun with eight rays marked the provinces that first rose against colonial rule. Three stars symbolized the three major island groups—Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao—each one distinct, yet bound to the others.