Caché of vintage Philippine weaponry caught in the politics of Spanish museums

AT the traditional iftar dinner co-sponsored by the Commission on Human Rights and the Philippine Center for Islam and Democracy, I bumped into my niece, Maisara Dandamun-Latiph and her husband Algamar (both lawyers). I was pleasantly surprised as I had not seen the pair in quite a while. Amidst the clatter of spoons and knives, the couple regaled me with their recent tour of Spain, and as impressionable young Muslim Filipinos, their enthusiasm rubbed off on me as they relived their breathtaking circuit of the splendid legacy of Moorish civilization before the Moors were pushed off Granada across the sea in the 15th century. "Uncle, you ought to go there," Maisara urged me.

Indeed, it is just befitting that every financially able Filipino ought to make the trip and fill in the blanks with the other half of the story and reflect on the state of the Iberian peninsula long before Vasco da Gama pierced the veil that separated Europe from Asia in 1498. I was all ohs and ahs as Algamar told me that lately he had cultivated a fondness for Moro historiography, and that for starters he had bought James Warren's twin classic book on the Iranūn. When I suggested that they sure must have not missed the Museo del Ejército's new home in Toledo, their animated monologue trailed off, and they gaped at their uncle for the cue.