The 1938 short film Manila: Queen of the Pacific showcases a progressive Philippine capital. Period automobiles share the road with rail-driven trams and masses of horse-drawn kalesas. Escolta was presented as the main business thoroughfare, with pedestrians relying on arcaded sidewalks to protect themselves from the scorching Philippine humidity.
A lot has changed since the eve of World War II. Fueled by unchecked and haphazard development, Manila has evolved into one of the world’s largest and densest metropolises. Old Manila itself is part of an urban sprawl that houses over 16 million people. Modern urban areas like Makati’s Central Business District and Bonifacio Global City now constitute the centers of commerce.
The kalesa itself has been relegated into a tourist attraction, now a colorful curiosity rather than a public form of transport. Now cars share the roads with jeepneys, the epitome of Philippine ingenuity.
Everyone knows the history of the jeepney: these colorful share taxis (for lack of a better functional term) are the refurbished remnants of surplus jeeps left behind by American troops leaving the country after World War II.
This form of transport proved so iconic (and cheap) that eventually “new” jeepneys were constructed from scratch, using parts from old vehicles other than the classic military Jeep. It’s somewhat ironic that “newer” jeeps use the engines of old Japanese trucks. We use parts manufactured by an old enemy to continue a transportation tradition made possible by Americans.
Is this a tradition we want to maintain, at least on a widespread level? One of my old university textbooks argues that the jeepney represents a technological dead-end. Running on an old diesel engine with few (if any) creature comforts for the driver and its passengers, the typical jeepney is far removed from modern technology.
As a method of public transportation, the jeepney is also very inefficient. While its seating prioritizes quantity over ride comfort, jeepneys contribute to two problems plaguing Metro Manila today: pollution and chaotic traffic. A common scene during rush hour: commuters covering their mouths with handkerchiefs due to smoke-belching jeeps (and other vehicles) and drivers spewing profanities at jeepneys that swerve all over the road.
With mouths to feed and an income based on the number of paying passengers they can attract, jeepney drivers flout basic vehicle maintenance and traffic law compliance. Who can blame them? Why meet emission standards and stick to your lane, when doing otherwise means you have more money to feed your kids and put them through school?
In fact, the current popularity of jeepneys is just a by-product of the poor urban planning. As Metro Manila grew, public officials failed to develop the required infrastructure, making jeepneys necessary. Enterprising Filipinos filled needs that the government couldn’t (or wouldn’t).
The only reason why the jeepney remains popular is because commuters have no other choice. Taxis are too expensive, while a car represents a significant investment (and every new car adds to Metro Manila’s road traffic anyway). It’s clear that more efficient methods of public transportation that don’t use roads — such as a more comprehensive rapid transit rail network — are needed.
Should the jeepney go the way of the kalesa? Definitely. The jeepney will become a cultural artifact, a tourist attraction, once public officials start realizing that a stripped-down stretch jeep without air-conditioning is not what the average Metro Manila commuter deserves.
The jeepney is a national icon, a showcase of Filipino creativity and, as mentioned before, ingenuity. But it’s also a symbol of the inefficiency and chaos that plagues not only Metro Manila, but the entire Philippines.