Back in 2022, the Philippines’ 1000-peso bill lost its heroes and more. 

In the supposed upgrade of our paper currency, the fearsome face of a Philippine Eagle has replaced World War 2 heroes Josefa Llanes Escoda, Jose Abad Santos, and Vicente Lim on the country’s highest denomination bank note. The lower value bills have yet to follow in this revamp. 

The main purpose, according to the Bangko Sentral, is not cosmetic but the shift to the more versatile polymer material, which enables better security features. 

But what everyone notices first in the new design of the 1000-peso bill is the absence of heroes. Instead, it features a range of native flora and fauna, the eagle just the largest image in this menagerie. Humans are nowhere to be found. 

Maybe that’s the point. Deciding whom to include and leave out can get quite political. I mean, one could argue that GomBurZa were just as deserving to be on a bill as any other triumvirate. 

No howl of protest has crossed my feed from descendants and fans of the heroes ejected from the prized blue notes. But wait until they banish the Aquinos from the 500-peso bill, if that’s even in the cards. 

As lofty as the topic of heroes on our money may seem, that’s not my main concern when mulling over the money makeover.  

It’s the loss as well of the discreet but unmistakable script of our ancestors, Baybayin, previously imprinted on the 1000-peso bill but now gone the way of the heroes. 

ᜉᜒᜎᜒᜉᜒᜈᜓ or “Pilipino” appears on the heroes bill as a see-through security mark, almost a token addition which one can completely see only against the light. It didn’t make the redesign, which actually dismayed me more than the disappearance on the currency of modern-day people. 

A closeup image of the Baybayin on our 1000-peso bill has been part of my presentation as a Baybayin teacher for the past several years. Now I have to tell students it’s gone from the new version as the old is being taken out of circulation. 

When I asked the Bangko Sentral why the Baybayin was removed, I was sent a written statement citing principles of “social relevance” and “inclusivity… in representing all island groups in our bank notes.” 

I get it — some probably complained that Baybayin was used only in particular regions of the Philippines. But instead of removing it, why not include the other writing systems on our bank notes as a way of letting Filipinos and foreigners know that the natives could read and write long before the Europeans arrived? We had a civilization and not just eagles and tarsiers. 

More than 10 years ago, I did a documentary on a newly discovered slab of stone in Masbate that had mysterious writing. An archeologist said it looked like Baybayin, a connection to our pre-colonial civilization. Early Spanish explorers noted the startling fact that even native women could read and write, indicating perhaps that where these travelers came from that was a rarity. 

I’ve been learning Baybayin ever since, and began teaching and advocating Baybayin shortly before the pandemic. During our long lockdown, Baybayin broke the tedium and helped preserve my sanity. I used zoom to meet enthusiastic people from around the world who wanted to learn about it, if not actually practice it. 

To make Baybayin more relatable and relevant, I would show images of Baybayin on Philippine money, even coins, and on Philippine passports. “Baybayin is nearly everywhere because it’s in your pockets wherever you go ,” I would say, “but it might as well be nowhere if we can’t understand it.” 

Baybayin became a gateway for us to talk about heritage, history, colonialism, language, modernity, and the origins and even future of writing. At the height of the pandemic, as we were all locked down at home in various parts of the globe, Baybayin brought us together. 

As the Bangko Sentral proceeds with the currency upgrade for the other bills, will this evidence of a thriving pre-colonial culture remain or vanish on this most universal of physical platforms?