Appendix 3: Parricide
A rather startling case was called before the Court of First Instance in Kiangan in December, 1913. Limitit of Ayangan was charged with having murdered his father. The phrase “Are you guilty or not guilty?” translated into Ifugao changes significance slightly, and stands “Are you at fault or not at fault?” With a candor almost pitiable, Limitit admitted the facts in the case, but pleaded “not at fault.” “He was my father,” he said. “I had a right to kill him. I am blameless, for I provided a generous funeral feast for him.”
Interrogation developed that Dilagan, the father, was a spendthrift. He had raised a sum of money—possibly for the purpose of gambling—by pawning, balal, his son’s rice field. The son was angry, but Dilagan promised faithfully to redeem the field by planting time. But planting time came round, and Dilagan was unable to keep his promise and redeem the field. In a quarrel over this matter, the son lost patience and killed his father. So far as I am able to ascertain, his act is justified, or at the very least, condoned by his co-villagers. They excuse him on two grounds:
First, the old man was worthless, and deserved killing for having wronged his son. Even though the damage done was not irremediable, it was probable that it would be repeated, and that he would impoverish his son for life.
Second, the old man was Limitit’s father, and Limitit had the right on that account to kill him if he wanted to; at least it was the business of nobody else.
The American court, if I remember aright, sentenced Limitit to life imprisonment. He died shortly after being incarcerated.
Another case of parricide was that of Bayungubung of Kurug. He killed his father for the same reason that Limitit killed Dilagan: that is, for the wrongful pawning of a field.
The essence of the attitude of the people in both these cases seemed to be that the son had the right to kill his father if the latter imperiled the family livelihood or position in society. It seems to us an inhuman doctrine. But remember that the be-all and the end-all of Ifugao existence is the family, and not the individual. With us, the opposite is true: the rights of the individual supersede those of the family. The fields in question had been handed down from past generations. The son in each case was responsible at the time of the parricide for the welfare of future generations of the family. The old man in each case was a traitor to the welfare of the family. He had had his day, and was worse than useless. Remember that in a country where a living must be eked from a tough, stony mountain-side with a wooden spade, the means to life handed down from the sweat of former generations is a thing as sacred, as it is precious.
Besides these considerations, there is the principle on which Ifugao society is based: The family exists principally for the youthful and future generations of it.