Efforts to redevelop a historically significant house in the Philippines to memorialize local women abused there by Japanese soldiers during World War II are facing funding and logistical hurdles, raising fears that the structure, and recognition of the atrocities that occurred, could soon be lost.
The French Revival-style “Bahay na Pula” (Red House), built in 1929 in the town of San Ildefonso in Bulacan province north of the nation’s capital Manila, was seized by the Japanese Imperial Army during the war.
Now in a severely dilapidated state, the house could collapse within a year if hit by a strong storm, warned conservation architect Joel Rico.
“Whatever happened in the past is something that is so tragic. But if we allow this house to be destroyed, that (makes the tragedy even worse) because that is like allowing a memory to vanish,” Rico, who is pushing for restoration of the house, told Kyodo News in a recent interview.
Survivors have said that women and girls from the nearby village of Mapaniqui in Candaba town, Pampanga province, were taken to the house and sexually abused by Japanese soldiers following a raid on their community on Nov. 23, 1944, as part of efforts to hunt guerrilla fighters.
“We can make this building a memorial for these women,” said Rico, who has begun research and documentation for the conservation management plan. He aims to complete the work free of charge by February next year and will then submit it to the National Commission for Culture and the Arts.
The house, which has a floor area of around 400 square meters, sits on an 8,000-square-meter privately owned lot located on a highway. What remains today are its posts, roof and a few parts of the walls on the ground floor, which are enveloped partly by vegetation.
“When I first arrived here, the windows were still there and it was in good shape,” said Richard Velarde, 55, who has run a small store near the property’s entrance for the last 13 years.
The U.N. Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women in 2023 recommended that the Philippines government “create a memorial to preserve the site” or “establish another space to commemorate the suffering inflicted on the victims and survivors of wartime sexual slavery.”
The San Ildefonso government has expressed interest in acquiring the entire property, now valued at 68 million pesos ($1.16 million), to convert the house into a museum, but it lacks the necessary funds. It sought financial assistance from the national commissions on culture and history, and from a legislator but to no avail.
Kyodo News sought comments from the commissions and the legislator but has yet to receive a response. The property owner also declined to comment, saying only that “the matter is still being studied.”
Rico and municipal officials said the owner could choose several options aside from selling the entire property: selling only the portion where the house stands, valued at 20 million pesos; entering into an agreement that allows the land to be used for free; or donating the land entirely.
Under Rico’s plan, rebuilding the structure could cost around 10-20 million pesos. He said the project could proceed without straining the Philippines’ strong relations with Japan, adding that “it will be magnanimous for the Japanese government’s cultural agency to extend a hand of cooperation…for the reconstruction.”
Velarde said he supports plans to restore the Red House so that memories of the abuses against the local women can be passed on to the next generations.
Not everyone agrees. Maria Quilantang, 89, leader of the survivors’ group Malaya Lolas (Free Grandmothers), opposes the restoration because of the pain she feels whenever she sees the house.
“That’s no longer necessary because you will just keep recalling the painful experience,” she said.
Quilantang was just a child when the Japanese soldiers attacked Mapaniqui. “The Japanese soldiers kissed and fondled me,” she said. “I was only eight years old.”
According to Quilantang, the Japanese soldiers massacred the men, and imprisoned the women in the Red House, including Quilantang’s mother and her two sisters.
“My father and three brothers were tortured and killed in front of my very eyes,” said Quilantang.
Instead of erecting a physical memorial at the Red House property, Quilantang would rather have people share her story about the war so that the atrocities committed by Japan are not forgotten.
Rico said he envisions reconstructing the house free of the stigma, fear, and injustice associated with its wartime history, and without its red color, while still honoring the plight of the women of Mapaniqui.
“Eighty years after (the end of the war), no matter how much you hate anyone, there’s such a (phrase) as ‘moving on.’ We can tell the story without hating anymore,” he said.
