THE Komisyon ng Wikang Filipino is proposing the “rationalization” of the names used for our country, our citizens and our national language. Indeed, a lot of people – foreigners and Pinoys alike – are confused. Aside from being known as The Philippines, is our country called Pilipinas or Filipinas? Are our citizens Filipinos or Pilipinos? Is the national language Filipino or Pilipino?
When is it proper to use “P” and when to use “F”?
In the US, some groups who identify themselves as “purists” insist on using Pilipino to describe our national language. They point out that the use of “F” is un-Pilipino, the letter being Spanish in origin.
That seems logical enough. If you’ve noticed, we always refer to the national language as Wikang Pilipino. And when we speak the language of Balagtas,, we never use “F,”  as may be seen in the lyrics of Bayan Ko: “Ang bayan kong Pilipinas….”
On the other hand, when we speak in English, we unconsciously shift to “F” as in, “the Filipino national language.” This is probably influenced by how we call our country, the Philippines, pronounced like “F.”
Curiously, most Pinoys in America (including some of the “purists”) refer to themselves as Filipino-Americans or Fil-Ams, rather than Pil-Ams.  In fact the largest organization of Pinoys in the US is called the National Federation of Filipino-American Associations.
And whenever I deliver a talk on the roots of our people in the New World, I refer to the original name given to the islands by Ruy Lopez de Villalobos, which was Las Islas Filipinas.
However, after my lecture, during the open forum, whenever I am asked to describe myself, I say “Pilipino ako” when speaking in Tagalog and “I’m Filipino” when responding in English. I hardly notice the shift. It comes unconsciously.
I don’t know if anyone ever wrote down the usage rules, in all my seven decades of existence, I’ve managed to shift from”F” to “P” and back to “F” quite effortlessly.
The “F” version is widely used in America. Not just the community associations but the media, as well. The Pinoy newspapers are called FilAm Bulletin, FilAm Courier, FilAm Journal, Filipino Reporter, Filipino Express and Filipinas Magazine, to mention some. But maybe that’s because these are considered English descriptions.
One newspaper in Miami unabashedly calls itself, Basta Pinoy Times. And when GMA Network introduced its first international channel in the US, it was called GMA Pinoy TV.
The nickname Pinoy appears to be constant, however. I don’t recall anyone daring to use Finoy.
I can appreciate the objective of the Komisyon ng Wikang Filipino to standardize the usage, the better for non-Pinoys to declare, “It’s more fun in the Filipins.”
Aside from consistency, there are some advantages in being referred to as Filipinas. I recall overhearing a discussion concerning this at a meeting among the officials of the Ministry of Information, back in the wild and wooly days of the Marcos regime. It was 1983 and they were preparing for the participation of Da Apo at the North-South Summit in Cancun, Mexico, which was to be attended by such world leaders as Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, Francois Mitterand and Indira Ghandi.
With such international superstars in attendance, Marcos’ information people were concerned that the Western press would conveniently overlook the president of the Philippines. Back then, our country’s reputation was already in a bad way. There was an urgent need for Marcos to gain some positive media mileage, particularly on US network TV.
This was when it was pointed out that the Mexican hosts had insisted on using Hispanic names for the participating countries. This meant that the Philippines would be referred to as Filipinas.
The Hispanic nomenclature was like a blessing from the gods. In the seating arrangement, Marcos, as president of Filipinas, was positioned between Reagan of Estados Unidos and Mitterand of Francia.  This assured Da Apo of shared exposure with both Western leaders who, needless to say, got a lot of media coverage.
Of course, we’re not the only country that uses a variety of names, depending on who is using them. Germany is known to the natives as Deutschland. China is Zhong Guo. Japan is Nippon. Spain is España and Italy is Italia. And if you’re in Roma and want to travel to Florence, make sure you buy a ticket to Firenze, which is what the locals call it.
While I can appreciate the protests of those who want to retain the status quo, whatever the lexicographers say, in America, changing one’s name, the moment one is sworn in as a naturalized US citizen, is de rigueur.
There’s this story of a fellow named Casimiro Bukirkir. Upon gaining US citizenship, he reportedly changed his name to Cashmere Bouquet. And then there was Pedro Cubeta who was so unhappy with his name that when he took his oath of citizenship, he changed it to Peter Cubeta.
Okay, okay, both are jokes, of course. But a true story is about Wendell Mayculob, a realtor in Daly City. Because his clients always had difficulty pronouncing his name, he would say, “It’s like the beer.” Thus, when he became a US citizen, he formalized the change and he forthwith became officially known as Wendell Michelob.
My own family name had to be re-spelled at the turn of the century to satisfy the politically correct requirements of some folks.
My father’s original surname was spelled Macaventa. But when he enrolled at the Liceo de Manila, shortly after the revolution against Spain, he encountered a super nationalist professor, Pedro Basa, who told my father that his surname was spelled wrong. “There is no c and no v in the Philippine alphabet,” declared Basa. “You better change the spelling to k and b.”
My father, being a nationalist himself, readily agreed. Thus, did “Makabenta” evolve. When he went home to Carigara, he announced the change in spelling to the clan and most of his relatives, including all his siblings, followed suit. It was not until I became a reporter that the spelling of the surname reverted halfway to the original, mainly because of a misspelling in my press pass. It was then that my father related the metamorphosis of our surname.
As Malacañang has put it, the proposal to use Filipinas and no longer Pilipinas presents an interesting topic of discussion.
Me? I don’t have any problem with it. As far as I’m concerned, call it by any other name, I will always be froud to be Finoy.

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