Remembering Florante at Laura

The Old Poem That Refused to Become Old

By Karl M. Garcia

There are books we remember because we loved them, books we remember because we hated having to read them, and books we remember simply because they were required.

Florante at Laura belongs, for many of us, to that peculiar category of high-school memories: a required reading that we encountered when we were perhaps too young to appreciate what it was really saying.

Written by Francisco Balagtas in the nineteenth century, Florante at Laura was presented to generations of Filipino students as a classic of Philippine literature. We memorized characters, followed the complicated plot, encountered unfamiliar language, and struggled through the poetry. At the time, it could have seemed like another academic obligation—something to finish before an examination.

But reading it again as an adult is a different experience.

What once appeared to be a romantic tale of Florante and Laura reveals itself as something much larger: a meditation on power, injustice, betrayal, loyalty, oppression, identity and the meaning of freedom.

It is, in many ways, a political work disguised as a love story.

A Story Beneath the Story

On the surface, Florante at Laura is filled with the elements of an epic romance: love separated by circumstance, friendship tested by adversity, treachery, war, captivity and eventual redemption.

Florante is a noble warrior. Laura is the woman he loves. Aladin, a Muslim prince, becomes an unlikely friend and ally. Adolfo, driven by jealousy and ambition, becomes the embodiment of betrayal.

But beneath the dramatic story is another narrative.

Balagtas was writing in a colonial Philippines. He could not simply speak about Spanish rule in the language of contemporary political criticism. Instead, he created a fictional world in Albania and its surrounding kingdoms, allowing him to explore oppression, arbitrary power and injustice at a safe distance.

The distance was geographical, but the message was not.

The suffering of Florante’s world could be understood by Filipinos living under colonial authority.

The forest in which Florante is bound becomes more than a physical setting. It becomes a metaphor for a society in which the innocent can suffer, the powerful can act with impunity, and truth can become dangerous.

That is perhaps the first revelation that comes with rereading the work.

Florante at Laura was never merely a love story.

It was also a story about power.

The Problem of Bad Government

One of the enduring themes of Florante at Laura is the destructive effect of incompetent, corrupt or unjust leadership.

The tragedy does not come simply from individual evil. It comes from a political order that allows evil to flourish.

This distinction matters.

A society does not become unjust merely because it contains bad people. It becomes dangerous when its institutions are unable—or unwilling—to restrain them.

Adolfo’s ambition is therefore not merely a personal character flaw. It becomes catastrophic because the political system permits deception and manipulation to overcome merit, loyalty and justice.

This is why Balagtas continues to speak to modern readers.

We have changed our technology, our institutions and our vocabulary. We have smartphones where people once carried books. We communicate instantly across oceans. We have elections, constitutions, courts and modern bureaucracies.

Yet the basic human problem remains familiar:

What happens when power is placed in the hands of people who value power more than the public good?

That question is as contemporary as it is nineteenth-century.

The Meaning of Betrayal

Adolfo remains one of the most memorable figures in the poem because betrayal is one of the oldest human dramas.

He does not simply defeat Florante through superior strength. He uses manipulation, envy and deception.

That is important because societies are rarely destroyed by obvious enemies alone.

Sometimes they are weakened from within.

The person who pretends to be a friend can become more dangerous than an acknowledged adversary. Institutions can be captured by people who understand their mechanisms but not their purpose. Loyalty can be replaced by personal ambition.

In that sense, Adolfo is not simply a villain from an old poem.

He represents a recurring political type.

Every generation produces its own versions of him.

Florante’s Suffering

Florante’s suffering is perhaps what makes the work particularly powerful when encountered again later in life.

As students, we may have read his imprisonment as part of the plot.

As adults, we can read it differently.

Florante has lost control over his circumstances. He is betrayed, imprisoned and condemned despite his worth. His suffering is intensified by the knowledge that the world around him has become unjust.

There is a universal experience in this.

There are moments when people discover that merit does not always protect the deserving, that truth does not always immediately prevail, and that institutions do not always deliver justice.

The question then becomes: What does a person do when the world becomes unfair?

Florante’s answer is not simple. He suffers, remembers, loves, despairs and ultimately survives.

His endurance becomes part of his heroism.

Aladin and the Discovery of the Other

Perhaps one of the most remarkable aspects of Florante at Laura is Aladin.

He is a Muslim prince who belongs to a different cultural and religious world from Florante. Yet he becomes his friend and rescuer.

For Filipino students, this is easy to overlook because the character has traditionally been presented simply as part of the story.

But Aladin deserves another look.

Balagtas could have constructed a world in which identity determined friendship: Christian against Muslim, one kingdom against another, one people against another.

Instead, he created an unexpected bond between two men who might have been regarded as enemies.

Their friendship suggests something profound:

Human solidarity can cross the boundaries that politics and prejudice create.

That message remains particularly relevant in a country as diverse as the Philippines.

We often divide ourselves according to region, language, religion, political affiliation, social class and ideology.

Yet Balagtas reminds us that compassion can be more fundamental than difference.

Aladin sees Florante’s suffering and responds to it.

He does not first ask whether Florante belongs to his tribe, religion or political camp.

He simply sees another human being in distress.

Love Is More Than Romance

Laura is often remembered primarily as the heroine of the love story.

But the concept of love in Florante at Laura is larger than romantic affection.

The poem explores loyalty, sacrifice and fidelity under extreme pressure.

Love becomes meaningful precisely because it is tested.

This applies not only to relationships between individuals but also to our relationship with country and community.

To love a nation is not simply to celebrate its victories or display its symbols.

It is also to care about its failures.

It is to ask why people remain poor when they should have opportunities, why institutions fail when they should protect citizens, why injustice persists when laws exist, and why talented Filipinos sometimes feel that their future lies elsewhere.

Patriotism without concern becomes sentimentality.

Balagtas offers something more demanding.

Love requires loyalty, but loyalty also requires courage.

Why We Still Read It

The obvious question for a modern Filipino is: Why should we still be required to read a nineteenth-century poem?

We live in a world of artificial intelligence, social media, biotechnology, geopolitical competition and instant information.

What can an old poem possibly teach us?

Perhaps precisely this:

Technology changes faster than human nature.

The tools of power change. The human struggle over power does not.

The methods of deception change. Ambition does not.

The forms of injustice change. The desire for justice does not.

The ways people communicate change. Love, betrayal, courage and fear remain recognizable.

That is why great literature survives.

It does not survive because the world remains unchanged.

It survives because, despite enormous changes in the world, there remain things about being human that are remarkably difficult to change.

From Required Reading to Rediscovery

There is also something deeply Filipino about returning to a book we once read only because we were told to.

As teenagers, we often encounter literature before we have lived enough to understand it.

We read about betrayal before experiencing serious betrayal.

We read about injustice before understanding how institutions can fail people.

We read about political power before appreciating its consequences.

We read about sacrifice before life asks us to make sacrifices of our own.

Perhaps this is why some books deserve to be reread.

The book has not necessarily changed.

We have.

The same lines can mean something entirely different at different stages of life.

A student may see Florante as a hero.

An adult may see a man trapped by political intrigue.

A student may see Adolfo as a villain.

An adult may recognize the dangers of unchecked ambition in real institutions.

A student may see Aladin as another character.

An adult may appreciate the radical humanity of an enemy who becomes a friend.

And a student may see Florante at Laura as homework.

Years later, we may finally recognize it as a warning.

The Forest Is Still With Us

The forest where Florante is bound may be fictional, but its symbolism remains powerful.

Every society has its own forests—places where people become lost, where truth becomes obscured, where power operates without accountability and where individuals can feel helpless against forces larger than themselves.

The challenge of every generation is to find its way out.

That requires more than heroes.

It requires institutions capable of justice, citizens capable of discernment, leaders capable of restraint and communities capable of compassion.

This may ultimately be Balagtas’s most enduring lesson.

The opposite of tyranny is not simply another ruler.

It is a society in which no individual is powerful enough to make justice depend entirely on his character.

Remembering Balagtas

Perhaps it is time to stop thinking of Florante at Laura merely as one of the books we were forced to read in high school.

It deserves to be remembered as one of the early works through which Filipinos learned to see themselves—not directly, perhaps, but through the mirror of a distant kingdom.

Balagtas wrote about Albania, but Filipinos could recognize the Philippines.

He wrote about princes and warriors, but ordinary people could recognize their own struggles.

He wrote about love, but beneath the romance was a meditation on loyalty.

He wrote about injustice, but beneath the story was a question about political power.

And he wrote poetry, but beneath the verses was a voice asking a nation to think.

That is why Florante at Laura remains alive.

We may have encountered it first as required reading.

But perhaps required reading is sometimes only the beginning.

Some books wait for us to grow old enough to understand them.

Comments
9 Responses to “Remembering Florante at Laura”
  1. that poem, written in 1838 by someone who lived from 1788-1862, is in a Tagalog that is very elegant but nearly incomprehensible to us today. Bonifacio’s Tagalog at least is somewhat understandable even if it is old-fashioned.

    Though Florante’s exclamation of “bayan kong sawi” (my unfortunate country) is already proof that Tagalogs were starting to use the word “bayan” for both town and country even back in 1838. And the heavy drama of Florante at Laura based on comedia could be easily made into a modern teleserye or Tagalog movie, I wonder if anyone has done that.

    Albania (and Greece as well as other places mentioned in the poem) are clearly from Spanish-influenced moro-moro or comedia which has many references to places the Ottomans ruled. Even the music of moro-moro sounds “a la Turk”.

    • Karl Garcia's avatar Karl Garcia says:

      Btw thanks for your syntheses

      • welcome! OT by Gerry Cacanindin on capability: https://www.facebook.com/gerrycacanindin/posts/pfbid0EuGUeMthTCJbxq2eMR94EwLAUUpuj1Z759DNMJtC4CmZheeMnoE2usN3gAejiVtHl

        Nung sinabi ni Bongbong Marcos sa SONA na magla-launch ang Pilipinas ng rocket sa Cagayan, syempre maraming natawa lalo pa mukhang excited talaga ang presidente when he said that.
        Rocket? Pilipinas? Eh baha nga hindi natin maayos, tapos space program? May point nga naman. But the main context has been missed by many. Hindi naman tayo gumagawa ng Philippine version ng SpaceX or Artemis rocket ng NASA para magpadala agad ng astronaut sa Moon. Ang ginagawa kasi natin ngayon ay much more basic, practical, at arguably necessary.
        Today, September 26, the Philippine Space Agency announced that 10 Filipino specialists are currently training in South Korea with Perigee Aerospace. Hindi lang ito classroom lecture. They are actually learning how to assemble a liquid-fueled rocket, integrate its systems, conduct tests, follow launch procedures, and prepare an actual launch.
        At may pupuntahan yung training na yan.
        Yan nga yung naka-sked sa 2027 where the Philippines plans to conduct a liquid-fueled sounding rocket test launch in Lal-lo, Cagayan. The initial demonstration is relatively modest, consisting of a locally developed payload of up to 2 kilograms, reaching at least 5 kilometers of elevation.
        In other words, wag muna isipin na maglalagay tayo ng satellite into orbit next year. This is essentially our laboratory exercise becoming a real-world test.
        Pero bakit kailangan pa nating matutong gumawa at mag-launch ng rocket sa dami naman na ng technologically backward na bagay sa Pinas like flood control? Well, because sabi nga ng experts, increasingly, space is infrastructure.
        Isipin mo kasi, every time PAGASA tracks a typhoon, when farmers use satellite data to monitor crops, when ships navigate, when government maps flooded areas, when telecoms reach isolated places, or when the military watches Philippine territory, space technology is somewhere in that chain. And satellites don’t magically appear in space. Someone has to launch them.
        Right now, if the Philippines develops a satellite, we generally depend on somebody else’s launch capability. Learning rocketry therefore isn’t simply about owning a rocket para masabi lang we have a rocket.
        It’s about understanding one of the technologies that gives a country independent access to space. The Philippine Space Agency itself says domestic launch capability could eventually give the Philippines the ability to deploy satellites for telecommunications, agriculture, security, and other uses.
        So imagine if we trained Filipino pilots but knew absolutely nothing about airports, aircraft maintenance, air-traffic control, or aviation regulations because “may ibang bansa naman na marunong niyan,” we’ll never be able to build an aviation industry that way. Same thing with space technology and rockets.
        And there’s another reason why the Philippines shouldn’t automatically dismiss rocketry and space tech. Location.
        We’re relatively close to the equator and we have the Pacific Ocean to our east. The Philippine Space Agency says those geographical characteristics could make the country useful for certain launch and recovery operations, potentially reducing costs and improving launch efficiency. That’s part of why Cagayan is being studied as a possible future spaceport location.
        There’s also a national-security angle that is already very real. Just three days ago, the Philippine Space Agency tracked expected debris from a Chinese Long March 8A launch. One projected drop zone was inside the Philippine EEZ, while another was inside Philippine archipelagic waters.
        Our space agency has had to issue warnings because rocket debris can endanger aircraft, ships, and fishing vessels. So whether we become interested in rockets or not, rockets are already affecting us. And perhaps the biggest value isn’t even the rocket itself. It’s the people.
        Rocket engineering forces you to develop expertise in propulsion, electronics, materials, software, telemetry, communications, precision manufacturing, systems engineering, safety, and regulation.
        Those engineers don’t suddenly become useless if the Philippine spaceport never becomes Cape Canaveral. Those are high-value technical skills that spill over into aviation, manufacturing, defense, electronics, energy, and other industries.
        Will this automatically turn the Philippines into a space power? Of course not. Will a successful 2027 test mean we’re suddenly launching our own satellites into orbit? Also no. But that’s not really the point. At least, not yet.
        You don’t start a space industry by launching a giant rocket. You start by sending ten Filipinos somewhere to learn how one works. Then you bring that knowledge home. Then you build something. Then you launch it.
        And somewhere along the way, something that once sounded ridiculous starts becoming an industry. Kaya mabuhay ang ating mahuhusay na mga rockista! 🇵🇭🚀

        • Karl Garcia's avatar Karl Garcia says:

          I have another long one about capability on Wednesday. But first things first on Monday converging past present and future.

        • Joey Nguyen's avatar Joey Nguyen says:

          I’m sure it was not Gerry Cacanindin’s intent when he used the space program example from Marcos Jr.’s SONA, and the points he used the space program to illustrate are sound even when the space program “specific” is taken out, but my primary worry is the typical Filipino takeaway is to pursue yet another White Elephant strategy that ultimately becomes a prestige trap.

          For example, Germany, Japan, France, and South Korea absolutely have the heavy industrial infrastructure and technological base to go at it alone on a space program, but choose to pursue space technology as a secondary, cooperative endeavor (e.g. with NASA, ESA). Instead even highly developed nations focus primary effort on expanding and maintaining the heavy industrialization base that employs broad sections of the population and creates economic multipliers such as infrastructure (e.g. ports, roads, electrification).

          A prestige trap is where the ruling elite tries to take a political shortcut by focusing effort on the immediate optics of modernity and national pride (such as a space program or buying commercial turnkey satellites) rather than the slow and often hard work of broad economic uplift. The politicians get to take a picture standing in front of mission control projecting the semblance of advanced development in the national media, watched by citizens who are still underemployed or unemployed.

          • JoeAm's avatar JoeAm says:

            I agree with the point to keep one’s focus sharp. It’s my sense that the Philippine space program previously was small academic research ridealong satellite ejections whereas the current effort has a singular focus: Philippine owned and operated eye-in-the-sky over the West Philippine Sea, enabling better monitoring than ships and planes can provide, and assuring there are no barriers, filters, or limits to data collection that may exist by using foreign monitoring. As such, it makes good sense and is not a white elephant, as I believe aircraft carriers or submarines would be.

            • Joey Nguyen's avatar Joey Nguyen says:

              Yeah, the goals of the Philippines Space Agency (PhilSA) are to develop a Philippine-owned national weather satellite, which is a sound goal given that the Philippines is in the most climate calamity-prone region in the world and that every year even tropical storms that don’t reach typhoon level cause damage to the economy that could be mitigated with better warning. Currently the Philippines government needs to buy “tasking time” from commercial satellites. Tasking time isn’t always available if another the commercial satellite service is in a location where it can’t flyover the Philippines or simply if another customer is willing to pay more than the Philippines can afford. If the Philippines owns her own climate monitoring satellite, the satellite may be set to geosynchronous orbit that always places it over the Philippines.

              Btw the “unnamed” South Korean space launch company from the Marcos Jr. SONA is, according to my South Korean acquaintances, Perigee Aerospace, a South Korean space launch startup that develops sounding rockets and microsatellites (matching the Philippines needs directly). Perigee already has a launch facility on Jeju Island (beautiful place if you have a chance to visit), so my guess is the Philippines government through PhilSA is partnering with Perigee on the proposed Cagayan launch site.

              Also, microsatellites don’t even need to be expensive. A lot of the sensors (LiDAR, RADAR, Infrared, Optical) cost anywhere from a few thousand dollars to a few tens of thousands of dollars. Sure such sensors won’t provide the level of fidelity that million dollar sensors give, but it’s more than good enough for weather and climate sensing. The onboard computer can be something like a $400 Raspberry Pi or similar single-board computer, which are made for industrial applications. On the irrigation project I did for Zamboanga calamansi farmers last year, I used the lower-end version of the Raspberry Pi as the solar charge and irrigation pump controller. These computers are about as big as a credit card and nearly indestructible.

              I’m not that concerned about the Marcos Jr. administration chasing white elephants and prestige traps, including with the PhilSA goals shared in the SONA. Rather I’m more concerned about the Filipino elite tendency towards such behavior. So I find it comforting that Marcos Jr. does not seem to have these bad elite prestige-chasing habits, and has kept goals realistic and is partnering with other countries and private partners (such as Perigee in the Cagayan launch site) in order to increase the overall capabilities of the Philippines.

              • Perigee seems to be a bit further than Isar Aerospace, which I did mention in one of my craziest articles:

                Spaced out dreams and AI fiction

                though I did refer to the reality of the Maya satellites which were microsatellites developed in cooperation with Japan.

                Of course Isar Aerospace finally managed (on second launch) to succeed and actually carry some satellite payload into space.

                I did read though that the Spectrum rocket isn’t capable of geostationary, just a lower orbit – for the moment.

                Still, it makes the most sense for the Philippines to partner close by especially with the likes of Japan and Sokor.

                Students of the Technical University of Munich develop microsatellites as projects BTW, so yes that is something reachable.

                P.S. the last time I did something similar to Raspberry PI was machine language instructions for something Z80-based in the mid-1980s.. a student project, physics experiments.

                • Joey Nguyen's avatar Joey Nguyen says:

                  The main reason why the US (NASA), China (CNSA), and Russia (Roscosmos) can do more things “alone” when it comes to space is more of a function of the scale of country population and economy — but even these national space agencies need to cooperate with other countries to an extent. In contrast although the EU population and economy is similar to the US, the way the EU is set up politically makes cooperation (like ESA) hard due to small member countries being able to derail combined effected. For small and middle countries cooperation is not only a natural thing to do but a must. So the Philippines (PhilSA) cooperation with other agencies is not at all a bad thing.

                  The advancement in computing power for single-board computers (SBC) is really something to behold. I have a bunch running stuff at home (mostly smart home, management controllers for my servers, lawn/fruit tree irrigation, even my aquarium and koi pond sensors). Some applications only require the “Zero” Raspberry Pi version which is as big as a stick of gum and as powerful as a cheap Android. Other applications I have the “full fat” Raspberry Pi 3-5 versions which are more powerful than a midrange Android and as big as a credit card. They run either Linux or BSD (UNIX variant), and though I’m not a programmer by trade I know my way around enough and can get ideas from code snippets others post online. The Pi SBCs I used for the solar battery charge controller and irrigation controller in Zamboanga were “Zero” models last time though I piloted full-fat models a few years back. SBCs sip power and can easily run off of a power bank and a small solar panel the size of a piece of A4 paper.

                  Here’s a university “cubesat” micro satellite that uses the Raspberry Pi (Zero):

                  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GASPACS

                  Maya-1 didn’t use a SBC, but rather a number of microcontrollers (Microchip + RENESAS), which is more complicated. IIRC the advisors to the UP student team were from Tohoku and Hokkaido universities, which probably is the reason why there was heavy use of RENESAS (merger of NEC, Hitachi, Mitsubishi microcontroller divisions). The Japanese also like to complicate things a bit. Maya-1’s compute could easily be achieved by a SBC today.

                  SBCs are super cheap for the capability. The UK has a Coding for Kids program to immerse elementary students and up with technology, using micro:bit and Pi SBCs. One of the reasons why Vietnam bypassed voice BPO and leapfrogged to tech is not only a strong STEM foundation but extensive immersion with SBCs and coding on them, especially the Raspberry Pi. A similar program for Filipino kids would be affordable and teach valuable skills.

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