Quezon, genealogical proximity, and change

Much has been said about the recently released “Quezon”, the third film in the Bayaniverse trilogy following “General Luna” and “Goyo”. The movie drew attention after Enrique Quezon Avanceña, grandson of former President Manuel L. Quezon, publicly reacted to its portrayal of his grandfather. While the film began with a clear disclaimer stating that it was “inspired by historical events” and that “creative license was used for dramatic purposes,” this artistic freedom did not sit well with Quezon’s descendants. Avanceña’s reaction is understandable --he is, after all, a direct descendant and grandchild of the film’s subject.

This reflects the idea of genealogical proximity: those closest to a person naturally feel the strongest reactions when that person’s life is portrayed or reinterpreted. Each generation views the past through its own lens --children and grandchildren often preserve the family myth, while later descendants like great-grandchildren tend to question it, examining the ancestor’s actions within a broader social and historical context rather than through personal memory.

Whatever Quezon’s flaws may have been, it is for later descendants and historians to examine them more deeply. As a historian, I sought to confirm the film’s accuracy, and indeed, the Osmeña-Quezon love-hate relationship it portrayed was historically true. The two men clashed often --Quezon even split from the Nacionalista Party that Osmeña had helped found-- but, like many politicians of their era, they eventually reconciled in the interest of national unity. Osmeña himself later reflected on this dynamic. In Vicente Albano Pacis’ biography, he admitted that “part of the price of unity was the development of an apparent oligarchy.” For four decades of Nacionalista dominance, he observed, only Quezon and himself truly stood at the top, while the same small circle of leaders merely rotated positions in what he called a “ritualistic rigodon.” New faces appeared only rarely, stepping in to replace those who had retired --or died.

Another key highlight was the political face-off between Emilio Aguinaldo and Manuel Quezon. Aguinaldo ran against Quezon in the 1935 presidential election and the campaign unearthed old controversies, from Quezon’s alleged first marriage to Aguinaldo’s supposed role in the deaths of Andres Bonifacio and Antonio Luna. The election ended decisively in Quezon’s favor, who secured 67.99% of the votes. Aguinaldo struggled to accept defeat. He lodged complaints before the chief executive, later forwarded by Governor-General Murphy to the legislature, alleging widespread fraud and irregularities. These included the refusal of certain municipal councils to appoint election inspectors for the Socialist Party, while favoring the Republican Party, and accusations of partisan activity among public officials.

The three Bayaniverse films, inspired by history, remind viewers that even the nation’s greatest heroes were human --brilliant yet flawed, noble yet imperfect. The reaction of the Quezon family is thus understandable; relatives often feel compelled to protect the memory and legacy of their ancestor. It is thus wiser to allow more time to pass before controversial political figures are portrayed on screen, so that emotional proximity gives way to historical reflection.

Later generations --particularly great-grandchildren and beyond-- tend to view their ancestors with curiosity rather than nostalgia. Freed from emotional attachment and family expectations, they approach the past with open inquiry instead of defensiveness. Their aim isn’t merely to preserve stories but to understand how those lives were shaped by the social and political realities of their time. In doing so, they turn family memory into historical insight, ensuring that ancestors are remembered not just with affection, but with honesty, depth, and context.

In the end, the film’s themes still resonate today: there may be many politicians, but true public servants remain rare. Mudslinging and black propaganda continue to plague our politics, and defeated candidates still cry fraud despite clear losses. Decades may have passed, but the old saying rings truer than ever --plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose-- the more things change, the more they stay the same.