Renato Constantino’s A Past Revisited and The Continuing Past remain profoundly relevant in illuminating the Philippines’ present political turbulence marked by the impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte, the collapse of the Marcos–Duterte alliance, and violent upheaval within the Senate. These developments have not only revived anxieties over institutional fragility that Constantino already analyzed during his time but also sharpened dynastic rivalries as the nation looks ahead to the 2028 presidential elections.

Written during the Martial Law era, these two books on Philippine History dismantled colonial-centered narratives and restored Filipinos as central actors in their own story. They exposed how Spanish and American colonialism entrenched elite dominance and dependency, and how post-independence politics remained compromised by oligarchic rule and foreign influence.

The recent Yuchengco Museum exhibit “Pasts Revisited” underscores the intellectual partnership between Renato and Letizia Constantino. For years, A Past Revisited was attributed solely to Renato, but the exhibit reveals Letizia’s crucial role in shaping the text. Her name was initially omitted for safety during the Marcos dictatorship, when nationalist critique carried risks of censorship and persecution. By the time The Continuing Past was published, her authorship was acknowledged, affirming that these works were products of a shared vision. This revelation matters deeply, reminding us that history is not only about great men but also about great women whose contributions are often erased.

The Constantinos advanced the idea of “usable history.” For them, facts alone were insufficient; history had to be integrated into a coherent process that empowered collective action. They argued that history should not trap people in nostalgia or fatalism but should serve as a weapon for liberation.

This framework remains urgent today. Poverty persists, political dynasties dominate, and democracy is often reduced to an electoral spectacle. Without usable history, Filipinos risk accepting these conditions as inevitable. With it, they can recognize them as products of choices, structures, and struggles, thus open to transformation.

The relevance of the Constantinos’ works to current Philippine politics is striking. Their critique of colonial legacies reverberates in today’s sovereignty disputes in the West Philippine Sea and in the country’s reliance on foreign powers for economic and military support. Their analysis of oligarchic democracy remains valid as political dynasties continue to monopolize power, undermining genuine democratic participation. Their warnings about historical distortion echo in the age of social media disinformation, where Martial Law abuses are downplayed, and authoritarian figures are glorified. Their call for usable history is especially urgent given the removal of Philippine history as a standalone subject in schools since 2014, a policy that risks producing generations detached from the struggles that shaped the nation.

The risks of ignoring their lessons are serious. Forgetting colonial legacies normalizes inequality. Weak historical consciousness allows disinformation to thrive and corruption to persist. Dependency on foreign powers continues without nationalist critique. As South African journalist Tristen Taylor once observed, colonial powers destroyed history because “without history, it’s easier to control people.” The Constantinos warned against this same danger in the Philippines.

Renato and Letizia Constantino’s A Past Revisited and The Continuing Past are not relics of Martial Law-era scholarship. They are living texts that speak directly to the Philippines’ current crises. In an age of disinformation and oligarchic dominance, their insistence on usable history is a call to reclaim the past as a weapon for liberation. To revisit the Constantinos today is to confront the unfinished project of Philippine nationhood and to recognize that history can still light the road toward justice and sovereignty.

The exhibit “Pasts Revisited” honors two intellectuals, reminding Filipinos that history is a weapon and that the struggle for national dignity is far from over. The Constantinos’ vision of usable history insists that Filipinos must reclaim their past to transform their present. To ignore their call is to remain trapped in cycles of dependency and disempowerment. To heed it is to recognize that history is not behind us but the ground on which we fight for justice today.