The Flying Shoes

When an Iraqi journalist hurled his shoes at George W. Bush in 2008, western journalists were quick to ask about the ethnographic explanation of shoe-throwing in the Arab culture. The western gestural vocabulary for public displeasure appears to be limited to rotten eggs, soft fruits, custard pie and more recently, green slime. But throwing shoes? Western media sought anthropologists for answers to the unfamiliar gesture. Although with all honesty, does one really need an ethnographic reference to understand why an Iraqi journalist would launch his shoes to the unpopular US president? Bush could only thank his lucky stars there is no chair-throwing tradition in Baghdad.

Model 271 aka 'Bye Bye Bush'

Muntazar al-Zaidi, the Iraqi journalist who lobbed his shoes at Bush, was unfortunately sentenced to three years in prison despite missing his target. The recorded incident was played in YouTube millions of times around the world and it became a modern symbol of the Arab world’s disrespect and defiance to the US. Bush may have dodged Zaidi’s shoes but one can only imagine that he was shaken despite appearing casual and unperturbed after the incident. There is no doubt he will always remember Zaidi’s clear message to him on that fateful day in Baghdad: “This is a gift from the Iraqis. This is the farewell kiss, you dog!”

It also comes in brown, camel and sand

Overwhelming interests in Zaidi’s pair of shoes reached far and wide too. In fact they were treated more heroically than the thrower. An Iranian Ayatollah even demanded that the shoes be preserved and placed in a museum. There was also a wealthy Saudi businessman who offered to buy the shoes for $10 million for its “high moral value”. Unfortunately, the shoes were dismantled and destroyed when police inspected it for hidden explosives. The Arab world was dismayed over the loss of the iconic shoes. But only until the enterprising shoe manufacturer of the famous footwear came to the public and re-produced thousands for posterity.

Proud shoemaker Ramazan Baydan

Ramazan Baydan is a shoemaker from Istanbul and the owner of Baydan Shoes, the manufacturer of Zaidi’s pair. His factory shoe designer personally identified the shoes as Model 271 after repeated viewing of the footage. The designer was so convinced; he left no room for doubt, "How could I mistake my own model? It's like my child".  Riding the bandwagon of Model 271, Baydan renamed the model as the 'Bye Bye Bush' shoes. In an interview a year after the shoe-throwing incident, Baydan have hired 25 extra workers and have produced half a million pairs to cope with the demand for the iconic shoes.  His online website has been receiving orders from Europe, Asia, Australia and America. By the way it is going, there is no stopping in seeing 'Bye Bye Bush' from the streets of Baghdad to Bristol to Baltimore or even in Brisbane.  Despite its success, Bayden  innocently insisted that he was not aware of the Arab shoe-throwing tradition. There is no such culture in Turkey, apparently. However,  Bayden attributed another reason for the popularity of Zaidi's shoes: “It is a good shoe. It was not designed for aerodynamics but if you throw it well, it will fly well.”

Imelda and Marikina

Painting of young Imelda

­The "legacy" of Imelda Marcos’ shoes has always been a fixture of my social introductions in Australia. As soon as new acquaintances learn I'm from the Philippines,  they would right away drop Imelda Marcos and her shoe collection. ‘What happened to her shoes?’  they would curiously ask. 'Well, they are kept in my hometown's shoe museum, as a matter of fact', I would reply, smiling. Shoe talk, not surprisingly, is always a good ice-breaker especially among women. Even after twenty seven years when the Marcos family fled the Philippines (and eventually returned to politics), the interest about Imelda and her shoes never wanes.

But every now and then, there is a feeling of discomfort whenever Marikina is associated with Imelda Marcos. After all, I grew up during the Martial Law era, a period where systemic oppression was commonplace especially for those who opposed the Marcos family and their cronies. In the guise of the“New Society” every one was expected to be a ‘disciplined’ citizen. Government controlled media reinforced it with repeated reminders of the slogan, ‘For the country’s progress, discipline is necessary’. It was the time when television broadcasting stations started and ended the day with what became the most mocked and satirised song, “Bagong Lipunan”.  It was played over and over that even after forty years I can still sing the version that my siblings and I were warned not to perform in front of anyone outside our family. It was the time when midnight curfew was imposed and when progressive newspapers and media outlet were shut down. It was the time when thousands of people were arrested, imprisoned and countless others disappeared or paid the highest sacrifice and lost their lives. Now you know where all the discomfort is coming from.

Part of  Imelda's 800-pair collection

Although my hometown is known for producing quality shoes, tourism has never been a priority until the opening of the Marikina Footwear Museum in 2001.  The old building that became the museum has always been a landmark in the centre of Marikina and it is also surrounded by historical buildings. Alongside is the current cultural centre building and former mansion of Kapitan Moy, a wealthy businessman who started the shoe industry in Marikina; and across the road is the old Our Lady of the Abandoned Catholic Church. Nonetheless, the museum that now housed at least 800 of the 3000 pairs of Imelda Marcos’ shoes had an interesting claim to history. It was used as an arsenal during the Spanish period; a detention cell for General Macario Sakay, a resistance leader during the Filipino-American War; and a rice mill for the Tuason family, one of the wealthiest landlords in the country.

Museum entrance

Bayani Fernando, a wealthy engineer/developer and the then mayor of Marikina, conceived the idea of the shoe museum as early as 1998.  The project brief was to turn the museum into “a significant venue for nurturing the historical and cultural values of the shoe industry”. Sounds like a very noble idea for a town known for its shoes. However, as a publicity ploy, the forward-thinking mayor rode on the coattails of Imelda’s gown and allocated at least one third of the museum display with Imelda’s shoes. And to complete the publicity exercise, he invited Imelda to officially open the museum where she was quoted as saying:  “This museum is making a subject of notoriety into an object of beauty. They went into my closets looking for skeletons, but thank God, all they found were shoes, beautiful shoes.”  As any journalist would know, Imelda is a bottomless well when it comes to quotable quotes. She is the complete media ringmaster who always get attention whether she is doing a rendition of her signature song, ‘Because of you’; kissing the coffin of her frozen husband; or on this occasion, opening a small town museum.

Korean tourists excited over Imelda's shoes

When I visited the museum in January this year, there was a bus-load of Korean tourists excitedly taking photos and obviously awed by the collections. The ground floor also contains shoes from around the world and shoes from other famous people and celebrities. However, the tourists were not there for reasons other than to see the Imelda collection. Interestingly enough, I didn’t find any Marikina-branded shoes on display. A museum poster claims shoemakers from Marikina gave Imelda at least ten pairs of shoes every week during her time as the First Lady. But where are they? All I could see were famous foreign brands like Gucci, Pierre Cardin, Christian Dior, Ferragamo, Chanel and Prada. Are Marikina-made shoes not good enough for Madame Marcos’ discriminating taste? Was she being duplicitous when she told the media that the 3000 pairs are her way of supporting the local shoe industry? Hopefully, the museum will at least will serve as a shrine to constantly remind Filipinos of the Marcos' excessive lifestyle and corruption while most of its people live in abject poverty.

Not a single Marikina brand in sight

In 2007, Imelda’s doctor announced that his patient has to wear orthopaedic shoes because, “years of wearing ill-fitting shoes has taken its toll on Mrs Marcos”. Poetic justice? Maybe. The cycle of karma continued last year when curators of the National Museum in Manila discovered that the clothing and shoe items of the Marcos’s kept in locked storeroom were destroyed by water from leaking ceiling during storms. As a consequence, the remainder of Imelda’s shoes were damaged and eaten by termites. In retrospect, these clothing items and shoes may have lost their material worth, but their real value lies on conveying to Filipinos that we should not be complacent to the continuous political rise of the Marcos’s and their cronies. Accidentally, but of great importance nonetheless, we should never be complacent with termites and leaky roof in our National Museum.