Venerable Master and dear Brethren:
When we, the profane, knock at the portals of the Temple to be initiated into the mysteries of Masonry, with palpitating heart and our whole being trembling with emotion before the presence of the Unknown, three reassuring words are dinned into our ears: Science, Virtue, and Labour.
These magical words whose flattering promise at one time made Pythagoras and Herodotus sail over tempestuous seas in imperfect ships to search for their solutions in the penumbra of priestly Thebes, this powerful Trinity which, if it descended upon the earth would convert it into a paradise and worthy abode of the gods, these three words, Science, Virtue, and Labour or the deification of intelligence, the deification of the sentiment, and the deification of activity, should be the theme of the present conference which should study it within the bosom and concept of modern Masonry.
“Science?” You may ask what science is found in the Masonic Temple. Science might have taken refuge in it during barbarous epochs in order to erect the sublime architectural monuments of the past centuries, just as the fine arts did in the quiet and peaceful cloisters of the monasteries, but today science is free, open to all, and certainly it is not to be sought in the weekly meetings of the lodges but in the universities, scientific centers, and the studies of learned men.
Agreed, dear brethren! Science is free as the light which is its inspiration! Masonry has been its wet nurse, has guarded it like a sacred flame while the storm raged, and when calmness returned, it surrendered it to the world to illumine it with its rays! What would have become of science if the Egyptian priests and ancient magicians had not surrounded it with mystery? Like a seed, its endosperm hardly broken, exposed to the fury of the elements, it would have perished in the hands of ignorance and neglect. By subjecting the neophytes of science to hard tests – because the mysteries of Isis, Eleusis, of the great Mother, etc. were Masonic matters – Masonry was assured that by the means the earth in which the seed would be planted would make it grow, that the one who would receive the light would defend it against all sudden impetuous attacks.
Later, a Religion, pretending to be the sole possessor of the Truth, desired to control and tyrannizes science, which spoke of other truths, and proclaimed other doctrines. That religion was powerful and science suffered a long captivity. Who liberated it? Masonry - proclaiming the freedom of human reason and working for its recognition.
Yes! Science is already free but its spirit lives in the temple as amidst the ruins of Rome breathes the spirit of her heroic men even after the promulgation of her wise laws! And in this concept we invoke here the name of Science, and Masonry will again fight for her when she is in danger, as it struggles so that the Philippines would open to her its closed horizons.
With respect to the word Labour, do not smile when you think of what we do in our weekly meetings of three hours at most. True it is that in the secular world machines deafen with their moving arms of steel and their powerful flywheels and eccentrics stir the air about them; true it is that the immense factories, like active beehives, employ the child, the young man and woman, the wife, and the aged in the production of thousands of articles necessary to life; true it is that labour makes all the molecules and pores of the world vibrate with life, from the bowels of the earth where the miner digs coal, a thousand times more useful than the prized diamond, to the high peak of snow-clad mountains which the locomotives scales breathing fire and dragging along with human thought; true, very true that our activity is nothing beside that of the diver who descends to the abyss of the seas, of the explorer who penetrates mysterious continents, of the engineer who, not contented with the free lanes of the oceans, goes out to cut continents, open canals, plow through the air in search of new routes! All this is true, but let us not forget that if these wonders can now be seen, it is due to Masonic liberty and the good distribution of workers instituted since antiquity by the Egyptian masons.
When we see an active and robust youngster besides a decrepit and feeble mother, we recall how she has carried him in her bosom, taken care of him as a tender infant and given him the milk of her breasts.
In ancient times the Masonic workshop was a true workshop where they discussed the building plans of such temples as that of Bulak, the cathedrals of Strasburg and of Cologne, etc., still admired in the world today. Human liberty took refuge within the Masonic workshops of Saint Wehma and from there fought against the feudal lords of feudal Germany. In the Masonic workshops also laboured day and night the spirit of man to destroy the sinister Bastille, overthrow a throne, equalize men, and complete the great work of the Nazarene! What? The workman who cuts the stone from the quarry with which to build the walls of a palace, home of pride and pleasure or the walls of a prison, the cavern of despair and lamentations — will this mason of ancient times perchance work more than the modern mason whose intelligence is sharpened and fortified in order to destroy every degrading inequality and to build for redeemed man his resplendent abode, perhaps kneaded with the blood of tyrants?
No, dear brethren: The modern mason works and should still work. Let the masons of free countries attend to the expansion of commerce and of charitable enterprises, well and good! But they should not rest so long as the world nurtures a tyrant; so long as the night gathers in its echoes the moans of the oppressed, so long as there are slaves, so long as there are oppressors! And this work is perhaps the greatest that Masonry has imposed on itself and the only one worthy of its universal name.
Now let is proceed to the study of Virtue, which I have purposely left last, considering it the most important theme of Masonry.
“Virtue, Virtue! You are nothing but a name!”, said Cato nineteen centuries ago, and perhaps many among you repeat now the same phrase upon hearing the strange word! Schiller exclaimed: “When shall I cease to hear about you, oh Virtue? The day when you are praised less you will abide among man.”
What virtue do we practice within this hall? Perhaps in the bottom of our hearts your consciences smile sadly as if disillusioned at the sound of this word, seeing that even within these temples we cannot restrain our passions. Perhaps, you are right, but before going further, let us see what we understand by virtue, because it embodies an idea which is on the lips of everyone and on which not all peoples are agreed.
To the Chinese virtue is respect for elders, ancestor worship, and numerous rituals and ceremonies. To the Indian it is physical immobility and inaction, considering a saint one who can remain in a fixed posture for months and months. To the Hebrews it consists of fear of Jehovah, compliance with the material precepts of Deuteronomy, and awaiting the advent of the Messiah in order to possess the whole world. To the Greeks virtue consists of stoicism, in knowing how to endure all ills with perfect equanimity and for this reason the Spartan consecrated to it all his dearest sentiments and his natural impulses, believing it to be fierce and heartless. To the Buddhists it is kindness and love for one’s fellowmen. On the other hand, to Rome virtue is integrity, manliness, and for that reason calls virtue what we would call “virility.” To her a virtuous man is manly, who knows how to sacrifice himself in times of great peril; how to die for the laws, the name, and the glory of Rome. Christianity came and upset many beliefs, and at the beginning of what did Christian virtues consist? Hereditary Christianity, the essence of the sum total of all religions, reflected in her virtues all the merits of the others and sanctified humility, stoicism, purity, adding to these, like a true Oriental, charity – a virtue that later Mohammedanism elevated to a sublime height.
Later on the doctrines were adulterated, faith weakened, the religious spirit fermented into sects. Those who preached equality and poverty desired to become masters and wealthy. Then virtue was confused with intolerance and fanaticism, and harmless at best, assumed unnatural forms. Force celibacy became a virtue, though God had commanded man to grow and multiply. It became a virtue to abhor the beautiful, to hate love, although all nature is beautiful, and the entire creation from the moon to the flower preaches love. Fasting and abstinence became a virtue although man needed to unfold and multiply his strength to use it in the service of his fellowmen. It became a virtue to torture and humiliate one’s self, when pain is the protest of nature and the snake thrives in the mud and God in Heaven; in short, ignorance itself became a virtue, though wisdom is a divine attribute, intelligence is a gift, and man can redeem himself only through his profound studies.
Barbaric centuries, dear brethren, were those when the emanations from the cloistered confused human intelligence. But it could descend even lower, and greater and deeper still was the fall of reason. These were then called virtues: To hate men who do not profess the same faith, to destroy and burn them; to recite words after words, nonsense after nonsense and perhaps blasphemies after blasphemies before the image of sanctified and deified men. They called virtue the belief in the impossible and the rejection of the conclusions of science and of experience; virtue, faith in the absurd, to give to the Pope for the support of his pomp and the money denied to the young man for his education; virtue, the madness, the senseless, the ridiculous and even vices provided they are cloaked with religion.
Human reason having descended to this abyss and frightened by its fall, looks back to the past and sighs for the virtue of heroic ages.
What are you, oh Virtue? Are you a vain name, the will power that resists all natural sentiments? Are you perchance a word invented by some malevolent egoist in order to arouse the generous sentiments of candid men dazzled by the luster of your glory and afterwards exploit them for his benefit? Have the powerful invented you to accustom the oppressed to be humble, or do the unhappy invoke you to shame their oppressors? Are you a protest or are you a cheat? Are you the patriotism which groups nations into large families or are you the individualism which cause conflict among men?
If we are to accept the principle held by the common people that it is virtue to favor others even to one’s own detriment then in Spain it would be virtuous to be idle, not to be an orator, and to be a patient and long-suffering creditor; in China, as in the rest of the world, it is to allow one’s self to be deceived by all; in France to give but never to accept pourboires, etc.
In the face of so many contradictions in human appreciation, conscience needs a norm.
By Virtue we understand the constant fulfillment of duty, just as by vice the constant infraction of virtue. In this sense the word Virtue enters fully the Masonic workshop and it can be considered the object and the sole life of Masonry. We must clarify the meaning of the word “duty” in this definition. What is man’s duty in this modern age?
The principle of “Do good” is very vague. The saying “Do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you” is defective because how many things there are that we should do to others that we do not want others to do to us! Alms for example, is one. The command “Love your fellowmen as you love yourself” is beautiful but impracticable. It is divine but it is not human. There is no man who could feel affection for just anybody at sight.
The duty of modern man to my way of thinking is to work for the redemption of humanity, because once man is dignified there would be less unfortunate and more happy men that is possible in this life. Humanity cannot be redeemed so long as there are oppressed peoples, so long as there are some men who live on the tears of many, so long as there are emasculated minds and blinded eyes that enable others to live like sultans who alone man enjoy beauty. Humanity cannot be redeemed while reason is not free, while faith would want to impose itself on facts, while whims are laws, and while there are nations who subjugate others. For humanity to be able to attain the lofty destiny toward which God guides it, it is necessary that within its fold there should be no dissension nor tyranny, that plagues do not decimate it and no groans and curses be heard in its march. It is necessary that its triumphant career march to the tune of the hymns of glory and liberty with a bright face and serene forehead.
Thus Masonry preaches and practices the sacred principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity among all men and they compose the Masonic virtues, the only virtues whose practice would banish among men wars and abuses and bring about that state of which all great reformers dream. In this concept, for the present, virtue has no other temple but the Masonic temple from which emerge some gleams of light that illumine the minds of many lay thinkers. In this concept virtue is no longer a barren, bare, unnatural, fierce or devout quality. Virtue becomes beautiful than the liberty, equality, and fraternity of all men.
Myriad worlds roll in peace and freedom through the vast expanse of space without end and in their divine course they intone a hymn of love to their creator; the eagles cross the space in majestic flight and they watch and respect one another; the fiercest animals in their caves or in the loneliness of the desert each go to his hunt without destroying one another, without being tyrannical; the trees raise to the sun their majestic crowns and whisper and confide to the zephyr the song of thanksgiving for the light that vivify them and dress them with color; the flowers lean out their fresh heads, filling the air with perfume and smiles; life, joy, love, liberty are all born everywhere even from death and dirt itself.
Only man remains the enemy of man, tyrannizes his fellowmen, oppresses everyone, transmits his anger and his diseases to the animals that fall under his power and rejoice in the humiliation of his brothers. A cry announces his birth, misery and battles darken the tortuous path of his life with tears, blood, and gall; vices, diseases, and passion which cause his death are usually accompanied by terror and suffering, and like the tyrants, howling and crying tears of fire, envying the fate of the peasants, man, the lord of creation, envies the fate of the insects, the fate of the butterfly which, flying from flower to flower, feeds on nectar, is born at dawn and dies with the day without luckily seeing the sad shadows of the night!
Showing posts with label Dr Jose Rizal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dr Jose Rizal. Show all posts
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Looking Back: Rizal as teacher and pupil
By: Ambeth R. Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
Tuesday, November 15th, 2011
"Last weekend I accompanied the Reading Association of the Philippines on a pilgrimage to Dapitan. Since most of the members were teachers, I advised them to soak in the atmosphere of the place and appreciate being able to literally tread the ground Jose Rizal walked on during his exile there from 1892-1896. To me as a teacher, the most relevant artifacts on display were the original table and blackboard (actually just a slab of Philippine hardwood) that Rizal used in his makeshift school for boys there. Everything else in Dapitan is a reconstruction of the original structures that once stood there. Thus, Dapitan, like Emilio Aguinaldo’s eccentric mansion in Kawit, is one of my favorite historic sites because it has not changed much since our heroes lived there.
"Dapitan was a social laboratory where Rizal put most of his ideas into action: he improved the town plaza and landscaped the ground with a relief map of Mindanao—a map that exists to this day; he taught the Dapiteños how to fish with a net and gave them their first taste of fluffy bread; he opened a sari-sari store, a school, and learned more about mangkukulam and herbal medicine in his effort to improve public health; he built a water supply system, tried his hand at the abaca- and brick-manufacturing business; he tilled the land and tended fruit-bearing trees on an estate bought from his winnings from the lottery.
"This is the Rizal that people have to re-discover in order to make him relevant to modern times. Rizal did not just write the “Noli me tangere,” the “El Filibusterismo,” and the “Ultimo Adios,” he wrote much more for a nation that does not read. Each time I go to Dapitan I re-read his letters to his family for here we see a plain Rizal, a Rizal without the overcoat, a Rizal who is heroic, although at the time those letters were written, he was yet to be executed to become a “National Hero” later.
"Anyone who reads the Rizal family correspondence will discover his nine sisters like Narcisa Lopez, his favorite, whose nickname Sisa is immortalized as a tragic character in the “Noli.” Sisa wrote him on Feb. 27, 1886, saying: “I suppose you don’t know yet that I’m now the mother of six children. In this letter you will see the names of the three older ones (in their own handwriting), and of the last ones, the older was Isabel, the deceased one, and the two, one girl and one boy, are called Consolación and Leoncio López, who is as fat as a melon. The children of Sra. Neneng are three: They are called Alfredo, Adela and Abelardo. Olimpia’s shortly will be three, like Sra. Neneng’s. The two who are not here are called Aristeo and Cesario; the older one called Aristeo, what a lively boy he is! His godfather is Sr. Paciano. He will be a useful boy when he gets older. At the age of two, he already knows a great deal. He is the only consolation of our parents, I tell you, because when you see this child, even if you are angry, you will be obliged to laugh, he is so funny.”
"Based on the above and the fact that Rizal came from a brood of 11 children, one can only wonder what his stand would be on the RH bill had he lived today. His large family was a constant ray of sunshine when he was homesick in Europe, and we can only imagine what joy Rizal got from letters. Another sister, Lucia Herbosa, in a letter dated Nov. 13, 1882, described a son born to her in 1882, whom they named Jose: “I amuse myself with José’s ear, which is like yours. I tell you that it is really like yours, but I pray that the likeness does not stop there, but that he may have your disposition, your goodness and diligence in good works.”
"In July 1886 Lucia’s husband wrote Rizal about their daughter Delfina who was suffering from “a little inflammation of (the) eye, which is the cause of her absence from school. What a pity she did not become a boy! She is bright and very studious. Her mother is always telling her not to read because her inflammation might worsen, but she is so hardheaded.” Imagine, a child insistent on reading! Twelve years later, in 1898, Delfina would assist Marcela Agoncillo in Hong Kong in the sewing and embroidering of the first Philippine flag.
"Even Paciano, Rizal’s older brother, was concerned about education, asking Rizal in July 1886: “Furnish me with information of the best schools there. We have many nephews, most of them promising. It is a pity that these ones should fall into the hands of teachers who teach unwillingly and do so only for show. It is true that they inculcate in children very sane principles, such as fear and humility, the first being the beginning of wisdom and the second of apostolic and civic virtue, but it is also true that fear and humility lead to dullness.” Rizal replied that “children are not allowed to be themselves, to make noise or to play. Instead, they are made to recite the rosary and novena until the poor youngsters become very sleepy and understand nothing of what is going on. Consequently, when they reach the age of reason, they pray just as they have prayed when they were children without understanding what they are saying; they fall asleep or think of nonsense. Nothing can destroy a thing more than the abuse of it, and praying can also be abused.”
"We must not forget that the Philippines’ National Hero was not born great, he evolved over time, developing as a hero amid interaction with his family."
Comments are welcome in my Facebook Fan Page.
Philippine Daily Inquirer
Tuesday, November 15th, 2011
"Last weekend I accompanied the Reading Association of the Philippines on a pilgrimage to Dapitan. Since most of the members were teachers, I advised them to soak in the atmosphere of the place and appreciate being able to literally tread the ground Jose Rizal walked on during his exile there from 1892-1896. To me as a teacher, the most relevant artifacts on display were the original table and blackboard (actually just a slab of Philippine hardwood) that Rizal used in his makeshift school for boys there. Everything else in Dapitan is a reconstruction of the original structures that once stood there. Thus, Dapitan, like Emilio Aguinaldo’s eccentric mansion in Kawit, is one of my favorite historic sites because it has not changed much since our heroes lived there.
"Dapitan was a social laboratory where Rizal put most of his ideas into action: he improved the town plaza and landscaped the ground with a relief map of Mindanao—a map that exists to this day; he taught the Dapiteños how to fish with a net and gave them their first taste of fluffy bread; he opened a sari-sari store, a school, and learned more about mangkukulam and herbal medicine in his effort to improve public health; he built a water supply system, tried his hand at the abaca- and brick-manufacturing business; he tilled the land and tended fruit-bearing trees on an estate bought from his winnings from the lottery.
"This is the Rizal that people have to re-discover in order to make him relevant to modern times. Rizal did not just write the “Noli me tangere,” the “El Filibusterismo,” and the “Ultimo Adios,” he wrote much more for a nation that does not read. Each time I go to Dapitan I re-read his letters to his family for here we see a plain Rizal, a Rizal without the overcoat, a Rizal who is heroic, although at the time those letters were written, he was yet to be executed to become a “National Hero” later.
"Anyone who reads the Rizal family correspondence will discover his nine sisters like Narcisa Lopez, his favorite, whose nickname Sisa is immortalized as a tragic character in the “Noli.” Sisa wrote him on Feb. 27, 1886, saying: “I suppose you don’t know yet that I’m now the mother of six children. In this letter you will see the names of the three older ones (in their own handwriting), and of the last ones, the older was Isabel, the deceased one, and the two, one girl and one boy, are called Consolación and Leoncio López, who is as fat as a melon. The children of Sra. Neneng are three: They are called Alfredo, Adela and Abelardo. Olimpia’s shortly will be three, like Sra. Neneng’s. The two who are not here are called Aristeo and Cesario; the older one called Aristeo, what a lively boy he is! His godfather is Sr. Paciano. He will be a useful boy when he gets older. At the age of two, he already knows a great deal. He is the only consolation of our parents, I tell you, because when you see this child, even if you are angry, you will be obliged to laugh, he is so funny.”
"Based on the above and the fact that Rizal came from a brood of 11 children, one can only wonder what his stand would be on the RH bill had he lived today. His large family was a constant ray of sunshine when he was homesick in Europe, and we can only imagine what joy Rizal got from letters. Another sister, Lucia Herbosa, in a letter dated Nov. 13, 1882, described a son born to her in 1882, whom they named Jose: “I amuse myself with José’s ear, which is like yours. I tell you that it is really like yours, but I pray that the likeness does not stop there, but that he may have your disposition, your goodness and diligence in good works.”
"In July 1886 Lucia’s husband wrote Rizal about their daughter Delfina who was suffering from “a little inflammation of (the) eye, which is the cause of her absence from school. What a pity she did not become a boy! She is bright and very studious. Her mother is always telling her not to read because her inflammation might worsen, but she is so hardheaded.” Imagine, a child insistent on reading! Twelve years later, in 1898, Delfina would assist Marcela Agoncillo in Hong Kong in the sewing and embroidering of the first Philippine flag.
"Even Paciano, Rizal’s older brother, was concerned about education, asking Rizal in July 1886: “Furnish me with information of the best schools there. We have many nephews, most of them promising. It is a pity that these ones should fall into the hands of teachers who teach unwillingly and do so only for show. It is true that they inculcate in children very sane principles, such as fear and humility, the first being the beginning of wisdom and the second of apostolic and civic virtue, but it is also true that fear and humility lead to dullness.” Rizal replied that “children are not allowed to be themselves, to make noise or to play. Instead, they are made to recite the rosary and novena until the poor youngsters become very sleepy and understand nothing of what is going on. Consequently, when they reach the age of reason, they pray just as they have prayed when they were children without understanding what they are saying; they fall asleep or think of nonsense. Nothing can destroy a thing more than the abuse of it, and praying can also be abused.”
"We must not forget that the Philippines’ National Hero was not born great, he evolved over time, developing as a hero amid interaction with his family."
Comments are welcome in my Facebook Fan Page.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Reading Shaped Rizal’s Political Consciousness
By Bryan Anthony C. Paraiso
Philippine Daily Inquirer 6:03 pm
Sunday, June 12th, 2011
(Editor’s Note: The author is the shrine curator of the National Historical Commission of the Philippines.)
MANILA, Philippines – MANY Filipino heroes, like Andres Bonifacio and Apolinario Mabini, assiduously collected and read books and pamphlets. But Jose Rizal stands out as the foremost bibliophile, his interests ranging from the literary to the scientific.
Even as a three-year-old, according to his elder sister Narcisa, Rizal was determined to learn his alphabet from the cartilla, memorizing the letters and their pronunciation within a day. He was deeply indebted to his mother, Teodora Alonso, who taught him simple prayers, folk songs and nursery rhymes
As a student at the Ateneo Municipal, he wrote, “By this time I began to devote myself in my leisure hours to the reading of novels, though years before I had already read ‘El Último Abencerraje,’ but I didn’t read it with ardor. Imagine a boy of twelve years reading the ‘Count of Monte Cristo,’ enjoying the sustained dialogues, and delighting in its beauties and following step by step its hero in his revenge.”
Rizal wrote to Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt on Nov. 8, 1888, “In my town of only 5,000 to 6,000 inhabitants, there are some six small private libraries. Ours is the largest, consisting of more than one thousand volumes; the smallest may have twenty or thirty. The Indio, in general, is very fond of reading and studying…”
During trips to Europe, Rizal frequented the bookshops of Antonio Rosés, Pedro Vindel, Fernando Fe, and Cuevas in Madrid, tracking down rare Spanish books that detailed preHispanic Filipino culture and other ethnographic materials.
Prized possessions
Noted historian Dr. Esteban de Ocampo indicated that, through these forays, the hero collected some 2,000 volumes. Rizal considered his collection important, and was angered by those who would steal his books: “Tell me if the book that was taken by a soldier had been returned already, and if not, what book it is. How good it is that while I economize money to buy books, anyone takes them away. You give me the temptation of buying everything in Germany with the certainty that there will be no lieutenant of the Civil Guard who understands them, but I will not do this for you, because you would not get any benefit…The books I have here are as many or more than what are there; see to it then that none will get lost, thanks that those gentlemen put up a library with involuntary donations.”
Unfortunately, Rizal’s valuable library, left in the care of his friend Jose Maria Basa in Hong Kong and sent back to the Philippines before World War II, was presumed to have been destroyed during the conflict.
In 1960, De Ocampo compiled a list of books and pamphlets collected by Rizal throughout his life. It appeared, from the list, that Rizal’s artistic and political preoccupations were shaped by the ideas and principles of Western thinkers.
Among the political theorists Rizal read was the British philosopher Herbert Spencer, whose atypical views on colonial reforms seemed to have been expounded in the hero’s second novel “El Filibusterismo.”
In “Man versus the State”, Spencer said, “In our days of active philanthropy, hosts of people eager to achieve benefits for their less fortunate fellows by the shortest methods, busily occupied in developing administrative arrangements of a kind proper to a lower type of society—are bringing about retrogression while aiming at progression. The normal difficulties in the way of advance are sufficiently great, and it is lamentable that they should be made greater. Hence, something well worth doing may be done, if philanthropists can be shown that they are in many cases insuring the future ill-being of men while eagerly pursuing their present well-being.”
Losing hope
Early on, Rizal was a firm advocate of assimilation with Spain through reforms. He gradually changed his views, as reflected in his letter to Blumentritt in June 1888: “I believe that it is already late; the majority of Filipinos have lost already the hope they have pinned on Spain! Now we await our fate from God and from ourselves, but never anymore from any Government!”
Consequently, in the Fili, published in 1891, Simon’s criticism of Basilio’s naïveté echoes Spencer’s trenchant remarks against colonial reforms: “You pool your efforts thinking to unite your country with rosy garlands and in reality you forge iron chains. You ask parity of rights, the Spanish way of life, and you do not realize that what you are asking is death, the destruction of your national identity, the disappearance of your homeland, the ratification of tyranny. . . What is to become of you? A people without a soul, a nation without freedom; everything in you will be borrowed, even your very defects. You ask for Hispanization and do not blush for shame when it is denied to you.”
The parallelism with Spencer’s views seemed to signify Rizal’s acceptance of the idea of an alternative form of governance for the Philippines, free from Spain’s “civilizing” involvement.
Though cautious, Rizal was not averse to the idea of revolution to effect extensive change. In June 1887, he said: “I can assure you that I have no desire to take part in conspiracies which seem to me too premature and risky. But if the government drives us to them, that is to say, when no other hope remains to us but to seek our destruction in war, when Filipinos would prefer to die rather than endure longer their misery, then I will also become a partisan of violent means.”
Getting ready
Rizal prepared for every possible event in the Philippines by reading and educating himself—from books on military history and strategy to politics, industry, and agriculture.
In April 1890, he wrote to Marcelo H. del Pilar: “I am assiduously studying the happenings in our country. I believe that nothing can redeem us except our brains: materialiter vel idealiter sumptum (materially or ideally considered). I still have faith in this belief of mine.”
Rizal’s passion for books contributed to the formation of his patriotic consciousness and, in due course, his literary voice as a political novelist.
Today, how many government officials have prepared for their leadership roles by educating themselves through books? With all the scandals besetting the country, perhaps they could learn from Rizal’s studiousness and selflessness: “…I do not aspire either for eternal fame or eternal renown; I do not aspire to equal others whose conditions, faculties, and circumstances could be and are in effect different from mine. My sole wish is to do what is possible, what is in my hands, the most necessary. I have glimpsed a little light and I believe that it is my duty to teach it to my countrymen.”
To know more about Rizal@150 and NHCP, visit www.nhcp.gov.ph.
Philippine Daily Inquirer 6:03 pm
Sunday, June 12th, 2011
(Editor’s Note: The author is the shrine curator of the National Historical Commission of the Philippines.)
MANILA, Philippines – MANY Filipino heroes, like Andres Bonifacio and Apolinario Mabini, assiduously collected and read books and pamphlets. But Jose Rizal stands out as the foremost bibliophile, his interests ranging from the literary to the scientific.
Even as a three-year-old, according to his elder sister Narcisa, Rizal was determined to learn his alphabet from the cartilla, memorizing the letters and their pronunciation within a day. He was deeply indebted to his mother, Teodora Alonso, who taught him simple prayers, folk songs and nursery rhymes
As a student at the Ateneo Municipal, he wrote, “By this time I began to devote myself in my leisure hours to the reading of novels, though years before I had already read ‘El Último Abencerraje,’ but I didn’t read it with ardor. Imagine a boy of twelve years reading the ‘Count of Monte Cristo,’ enjoying the sustained dialogues, and delighting in its beauties and following step by step its hero in his revenge.”
Rizal wrote to Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt on Nov. 8, 1888, “In my town of only 5,000 to 6,000 inhabitants, there are some six small private libraries. Ours is the largest, consisting of more than one thousand volumes; the smallest may have twenty or thirty. The Indio, in general, is very fond of reading and studying…”
During trips to Europe, Rizal frequented the bookshops of Antonio Rosés, Pedro Vindel, Fernando Fe, and Cuevas in Madrid, tracking down rare Spanish books that detailed preHispanic Filipino culture and other ethnographic materials.
Prized possessions
Noted historian Dr. Esteban de Ocampo indicated that, through these forays, the hero collected some 2,000 volumes. Rizal considered his collection important, and was angered by those who would steal his books: “Tell me if the book that was taken by a soldier had been returned already, and if not, what book it is. How good it is that while I economize money to buy books, anyone takes them away. You give me the temptation of buying everything in Germany with the certainty that there will be no lieutenant of the Civil Guard who understands them, but I will not do this for you, because you would not get any benefit…The books I have here are as many or more than what are there; see to it then that none will get lost, thanks that those gentlemen put up a library with involuntary donations.”
Unfortunately, Rizal’s valuable library, left in the care of his friend Jose Maria Basa in Hong Kong and sent back to the Philippines before World War II, was presumed to have been destroyed during the conflict.
In 1960, De Ocampo compiled a list of books and pamphlets collected by Rizal throughout his life. It appeared, from the list, that Rizal’s artistic and political preoccupations were shaped by the ideas and principles of Western thinkers.
Among the political theorists Rizal read was the British philosopher Herbert Spencer, whose atypical views on colonial reforms seemed to have been expounded in the hero’s second novel “El Filibusterismo.”
In “Man versus the State”, Spencer said, “In our days of active philanthropy, hosts of people eager to achieve benefits for their less fortunate fellows by the shortest methods, busily occupied in developing administrative arrangements of a kind proper to a lower type of society—are bringing about retrogression while aiming at progression. The normal difficulties in the way of advance are sufficiently great, and it is lamentable that they should be made greater. Hence, something well worth doing may be done, if philanthropists can be shown that they are in many cases insuring the future ill-being of men while eagerly pursuing their present well-being.”
Losing hope
Early on, Rizal was a firm advocate of assimilation with Spain through reforms. He gradually changed his views, as reflected in his letter to Blumentritt in June 1888: “I believe that it is already late; the majority of Filipinos have lost already the hope they have pinned on Spain! Now we await our fate from God and from ourselves, but never anymore from any Government!”
Consequently, in the Fili, published in 1891, Simon’s criticism of Basilio’s naïveté echoes Spencer’s trenchant remarks against colonial reforms: “You pool your efforts thinking to unite your country with rosy garlands and in reality you forge iron chains. You ask parity of rights, the Spanish way of life, and you do not realize that what you are asking is death, the destruction of your national identity, the disappearance of your homeland, the ratification of tyranny. . . What is to become of you? A people without a soul, a nation without freedom; everything in you will be borrowed, even your very defects. You ask for Hispanization and do not blush for shame when it is denied to you.”
The parallelism with Spencer’s views seemed to signify Rizal’s acceptance of the idea of an alternative form of governance for the Philippines, free from Spain’s “civilizing” involvement.
Though cautious, Rizal was not averse to the idea of revolution to effect extensive change. In June 1887, he said: “I can assure you that I have no desire to take part in conspiracies which seem to me too premature and risky. But if the government drives us to them, that is to say, when no other hope remains to us but to seek our destruction in war, when Filipinos would prefer to die rather than endure longer their misery, then I will also become a partisan of violent means.”
Getting ready
Rizal prepared for every possible event in the Philippines by reading and educating himself—from books on military history and strategy to politics, industry, and agriculture.
In April 1890, he wrote to Marcelo H. del Pilar: “I am assiduously studying the happenings in our country. I believe that nothing can redeem us except our brains: materialiter vel idealiter sumptum (materially or ideally considered). I still have faith in this belief of mine.”
Rizal’s passion for books contributed to the formation of his patriotic consciousness and, in due course, his literary voice as a political novelist.
Today, how many government officials have prepared for their leadership roles by educating themselves through books? With all the scandals besetting the country, perhaps they could learn from Rizal’s studiousness and selflessness: “…I do not aspire either for eternal fame or eternal renown; I do not aspire to equal others whose conditions, faculties, and circumstances could be and are in effect different from mine. My sole wish is to do what is possible, what is in my hands, the most necessary. I have glimpsed a little light and I believe that it is my duty to teach it to my countrymen.”
To know more about Rizal@150 and NHCP, visit www.nhcp.gov.ph.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Relevant by Conrado de Quiros
IT’S 10 days to Jose Rizal’s 150th birthday.
It’s customary during Rizal Day and other occasions that have to do with Rizal for speakers and writers to wrack their brains to find some way of relating him to our times. Or to (re)discover his relevance to today, as it is often put. This particular column is no exception. But I doubt if I’ll have to wrack my brains to do it.
The reason for that is that his relevance to today is more than obvious, it is ponderous. It leaps out at us. His times do not just hold echoes for ours, they parallel ours, in quite uncanny ways. Enough to make you wonder how far we’ve really gone from when Rizal was born.
Then there were the friars who were the fountainhead of wretched beliefs, which they spread in the name of religion. They were the ones who violently opposed the education of the indios on the ground that they would become too big for their breeches. They particularly reserved their scorn for those who went abroad in search of it (the indios bravos), deeming them to be potential polluters of the public mind when they came home.
Though a Catholic, Rizal was also a Mason, and subscribed to its philosophy of humanism and rationalism. Much as Martin Luther railed against the priests and bishops of his time, who distinguished themselves more for vice than for virtue, Rizal railed against the friars of his time, who distinguished themselves more for heathen cruelty than Christian charity.
Today there are the priests and bishops who are the fountainhead of wretched beliefs, which they spread in the name of religion. They are the ones who violently oppose any form of contraception on the ground that God wants people to overpopulate the planet. They particularly reserve their scorn for the President whom they regard as lesser than her mother for being a little less subservient to the Church, deeming him deserving of excommunication if he doesn’t mend his ways.
Can Rizal’s relevance in this respect be so hard to see? Now as then we are compelled to rail against those who do not see the immorality of defending electoral fraud but see the morality of encouraging people to produce more mouths than they can possibly feed. Fortunately, we don’t have to be Masons to do that today, for we live in more enlightened times. Or do we?
Then there was corruption of epic proportions in government. The governor generals did not particularly relish the idea of being shipped off to this godforsaken place and spent their tenure amassing as much wealth as they could with which to retire comfortably back home. There were exceptions, those who were reform-minded, but they were few and far between.
Since the governor generals had to be audited before they left the colony at the end of their terms, they had to amass enough to bribe the auditors, or oidores, with while leaving themselves with enough to make up for their pains. The only limit to plunder was a scale sufficient to stoke the overtaxed indios to rebelliousness. Malasakit, or concern, for the welfare of the ruled was virtually nonexistent, the rule for the most part being for the rulers to make hay while the sun shone.
Rizal believed that given the opportunity, or the reins of government, the indios would prove themselves better rulers. Contrary to what the Spaniards propagated, which was that the indios were naturally inferior, it was in their genes, Rizal advocated that all that was the product of history, specifically colonial rule, and with education, there were no limits to what they could do.
Today Filipinos have gotten educated, quite apart from independent, and have taken over government. But our rulers continue to look upon their tenure not unlike the way the Spanish governor generals did theirs: as an opportunity to make hay while the sun shines, the presidential term in particular being fixed to only one term. Malasakit, or concern, for the country has been on long-term leave, if not permanently absent, the country having experienced mind-boggling corruption particularly during the despotic rules of Ferdinand Marcos and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and the brief, but benighted, one of Joseph Estrada. Which has left it biting the dust of its neighbors. Enough to make you wonder if it’s really in our genes.
Then there was a handful of ilustrados who were not really illustrious, who dreamed only of becoming part of Spanish society at home or in Spain, and a teeming mass of Filipinos who dreamed only of their rulers becoming a little kinder, there was no future other than under Spanish yoke. There was no sense of country simply because there was no country to begin with, there was only a colony. Rizal himself would not postulate an independent Philippines—it was left to Bonifacio to do that. But he had a strong sense of a separate people, with its own identity and destiny.
Today there is a handful of intelligentsia who are not really intelligent, who dream only of becoming part of American society at home or in America, and a teeming mass of Filipinos who dream only of finding work abroad, there’s precious little future other than under the heel of poverty. Filipinos in general have no sense of country even though they have a country called the Philippines, one that once showed the most tremendous promise. The rulers themselves cannot postulate independence, the essence of their foreign policy being the protection of American, and not Philippine, interests. It has been left to the youth, many of whom have been killed for being communists, subversives and seditious elements, to insist that we are a separate people, who can forge our own destiny if we put our mind, and soul, to it.
One hundred and fifty years after he was born, Rizal remains as relevant as ever.
[Appeared on C de Quiros' Philippine Daily Inquirer column: There's the rub, June 9, 2011]
It’s customary during Rizal Day and other occasions that have to do with Rizal for speakers and writers to wrack their brains to find some way of relating him to our times. Or to (re)discover his relevance to today, as it is often put. This particular column is no exception. But I doubt if I’ll have to wrack my brains to do it.
The reason for that is that his relevance to today is more than obvious, it is ponderous. It leaps out at us. His times do not just hold echoes for ours, they parallel ours, in quite uncanny ways. Enough to make you wonder how far we’ve really gone from when Rizal was born.
Then there were the friars who were the fountainhead of wretched beliefs, which they spread in the name of religion. They were the ones who violently opposed the education of the indios on the ground that they would become too big for their breeches. They particularly reserved their scorn for those who went abroad in search of it (the indios bravos), deeming them to be potential polluters of the public mind when they came home.
Though a Catholic, Rizal was also a Mason, and subscribed to its philosophy of humanism and rationalism. Much as Martin Luther railed against the priests and bishops of his time, who distinguished themselves more for vice than for virtue, Rizal railed against the friars of his time, who distinguished themselves more for heathen cruelty than Christian charity.
Today there are the priests and bishops who are the fountainhead of wretched beliefs, which they spread in the name of religion. They are the ones who violently oppose any form of contraception on the ground that God wants people to overpopulate the planet. They particularly reserve their scorn for the President whom they regard as lesser than her mother for being a little less subservient to the Church, deeming him deserving of excommunication if he doesn’t mend his ways.
Can Rizal’s relevance in this respect be so hard to see? Now as then we are compelled to rail against those who do not see the immorality of defending electoral fraud but see the morality of encouraging people to produce more mouths than they can possibly feed. Fortunately, we don’t have to be Masons to do that today, for we live in more enlightened times. Or do we?
Then there was corruption of epic proportions in government. The governor generals did not particularly relish the idea of being shipped off to this godforsaken place and spent their tenure amassing as much wealth as they could with which to retire comfortably back home. There were exceptions, those who were reform-minded, but they were few and far between.
Since the governor generals had to be audited before they left the colony at the end of their terms, they had to amass enough to bribe the auditors, or oidores, with while leaving themselves with enough to make up for their pains. The only limit to plunder was a scale sufficient to stoke the overtaxed indios to rebelliousness. Malasakit, or concern, for the welfare of the ruled was virtually nonexistent, the rule for the most part being for the rulers to make hay while the sun shone.
Rizal believed that given the opportunity, or the reins of government, the indios would prove themselves better rulers. Contrary to what the Spaniards propagated, which was that the indios were naturally inferior, it was in their genes, Rizal advocated that all that was the product of history, specifically colonial rule, and with education, there were no limits to what they could do.
Today Filipinos have gotten educated, quite apart from independent, and have taken over government. But our rulers continue to look upon their tenure not unlike the way the Spanish governor generals did theirs: as an opportunity to make hay while the sun shines, the presidential term in particular being fixed to only one term. Malasakit, or concern, for the country has been on long-term leave, if not permanently absent, the country having experienced mind-boggling corruption particularly during the despotic rules of Ferdinand Marcos and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and the brief, but benighted, one of Joseph Estrada. Which has left it biting the dust of its neighbors. Enough to make you wonder if it’s really in our genes.
Then there was a handful of ilustrados who were not really illustrious, who dreamed only of becoming part of Spanish society at home or in Spain, and a teeming mass of Filipinos who dreamed only of their rulers becoming a little kinder, there was no future other than under Spanish yoke. There was no sense of country simply because there was no country to begin with, there was only a colony. Rizal himself would not postulate an independent Philippines—it was left to Bonifacio to do that. But he had a strong sense of a separate people, with its own identity and destiny.
Today there is a handful of intelligentsia who are not really intelligent, who dream only of becoming part of American society at home or in America, and a teeming mass of Filipinos who dream only of finding work abroad, there’s precious little future other than under the heel of poverty. Filipinos in general have no sense of country even though they have a country called the Philippines, one that once showed the most tremendous promise. The rulers themselves cannot postulate independence, the essence of their foreign policy being the protection of American, and not Philippine, interests. It has been left to the youth, many of whom have been killed for being communists, subversives and seditious elements, to insist that we are a separate people, who can forge our own destiny if we put our mind, and soul, to it.
One hundred and fifty years after he was born, Rizal remains as relevant as ever.
[Appeared on C de Quiros' Philippine Daily Inquirer column: There's the rub, June 9, 2011]
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Rizal in Dapitan
by Manuel L. Quezon III
(from an article, 1996)
The following extract is taken from Luis Serrano’s translation (from Tagalog) of the “controversial” memoirs of Dr. Pio Valenzuela, recounting the conversation he had, as emissary of the Katipunan, with Rizal on June 21, 1896, at Dapitan. Valenzuela’s memoirs conflict with the testimony he gave on October 6, 1896, when he was captured and interrogated by the Spaniards, in which he said Rizal vehemently refused to have anything to do with the Katipunan or a revolution. But his memoirs, and testimony he gave at court (he was cross-examined by Vicente Sotto, who had been sued for libel by a former Katipunero) in 1917, after the Spanish era, said that Rizal really favored a revolution but not just yet; some historians explain the discrepancy as Valenuela’s attempt to not implicate Rizal after his capture. The Rizal in Valenzuela’s memoirs is the Rizal I choose to admire.
Rizal: You have to use all precautions to prevent the discovery of the association.
Valenzuela: And if the precautions fail?
R: You, the principal chiefs, must see that the resolutions of the Katipunan are faithfully complied with; you are duty-bound to avail yourselves of all means to prevent the shedding of blood. When the generals do not command, the soldiers stay still.
V: The case of the Katipunan is different; if the generals do not give orders, the soldiers will order the soldiers. If the Katipunan is discovered, the revolution will inevitably break out…
R: Does the association count with its membership many persons in high society in Manila and in the provinces?
V: Unfortunately, no; in Manila and the provinces, there are about a hundred from the middle class; the rest are poor.
R: There is no other remedy but to attract to your association all the rich and influential persons of Manila and the provinces. You may also avail yourselves of Antonio Luna who is a very intelligent man, and who has free access to the homes of wealthy Filipinos. Luna, at the same time, can direct the campaign in case hostilities break out.
V: What shall we do if we fail to attract these aristocratic people to the Katipunan?
R: These Filipinos will be your worst enemies if you commit the imprudence of attacking the Spaniards without the necessary preparation. When they see you without arms, they will go over to the side of Spain and persecute you; and being Filipinos and rich too, they will win over your soldiers with their money.
V: And what are we to do then?
R: See to it that these persons are at least neutral -that they help neither the Spaniards nor the Filipinos.
V: Neutrals (sic)? By what means can we make them neutrals?
R: That is difficult to answer now. The means are born of circumstances and events…
The doctor invited me to talk on the beach, and upon arriving at a certain place he pointed to a spot in the sea where the boat to take him to a foreign land may drop anchor. Later, we returned to his house and during the walk the following conversation took place between us:
Rizal: Tell our countrymen that, at the same time that we are preparing for a war against Spain, I desire to see college established in Japan which will be converted later into a university for Filipino youths. I shall be greatly pleased to be the director of said college.
Valenzuela: I shall bear in mind all what you say and counsel, but I believe you would rather direct the revolution than manage the college.
R: I am ready for both.
V: As soon as we have arms and munitions we shall try to take you out of Dapitan before the revolution starts in order that the Spaniards may not get to you and shoot you.
R: As soon as you obtain arms, start the war against Spain right away; do not bother about me for I will know how to get out of here by any craft with the help of the Moros. When it comes to the redemption of the country, you must not look behind for just one man.
V: If the revolution breaks out before schedule and you are still in Dapitan, the Spaniards will hold you and have you shot.
R: To die and conquer is pleasant; but to die and be conquered is painful.
This is a Rizal far different from the one a Fr. Alfeo Nudas, S.J. chooses to proclaim as great; the Rizal who wrote, from prison, that “I have recommended study and the civic virtues, without which no redemption is possible. I have also written… that reforms, if they are to bear fruit, must come from above, for reforms that come from below are upheavals both violent and transitory… I cannot do less but condemn, as I do condemn, this ridiculous and barbarous uprising, plotted behind my back, which both dishonors us Filipinos and discredits those who might have taken our part. I abominate the crimes for which it is responsible and will have no part in it. With all my heart I am sorry for those who have rashly allowed themselves to be deceived. Let them, then, return to their homes, and may God pardon those who have acted in bad faith.”
And yet the Spaniards, as Fr. de la Costa (another Jesuit) once wrote, refused to release this “reasoned” condemnation of the revolution on the grounds that (as the Spanish Judge Advocate General commented) “Dr. Jose Rizal limits himself to criticizing the present insurrectionary movement as premature… as far as Rizal is concerned, the whole question is one of opportunity, not of principles and objectives… a message of this sort, far from promoting peace, is likely to stimulate for the future the spirit of rebellion.”
An individual’s choice of heroes, one’s decision to admire -and venerate- a particular character out of the past, says a lot about that person. What is even more interesting is that one’s choice of which particular facets to emulate in a hero -and, people being what they are, which facets to suppress or simply gloss over, since they are incompatible with one’s preconceptions, biases, or goals- reveals a great deal, too.
But reveals nothing about the true nature of the hero.
“I do not mean to say that our freedom must be won at the point of the sword. The sword now counts for very little in the destinies of our time, but do I say that we must win our freedom by deserving it, by improving the mind and enhancing the dignity of the individual loving what is just, what is good, what is great to the point of dying for it. When a people reach these heights, God provides the weapon, and the idols and the tyrants fall, like a house of cards, and freedom shines in the first dawn.” — Jose Rizal, FILI (1891)
Monday, June 21, 2010
Noynoy can learn from Rizal
By Dr. Pablo S. Trillana III
Contributor Philippine Daily Inquirer
Posted date: June 18, 2010
Today, June 19, 2010, is the the 149th birth anniversary of our national hero Dr. Jose Rizal and is 11 days before Benigno "Noynoy" Aquino III will take his oath as the 15th President of the Republic.
Rizal never held any office even remotely comparable to the presidency. But Aquino can learn a thing or two about leadership from Rizal's life as an exile in Dapitan.
Immediately after returning to the Philippines on June 26, 1892, Rizal was charged with smuggling anti-friar leaflets. Without the benefit of a trial, he was then shipped out to Dapitan. He arrived in that lonely Mindanao outpost, "the edge of nowhere," as writer Leon Ma. Guerrero described it, on July 17, 1892 and stayed there until July 31, 1896.
Before the Dapitan interlude, Rizal's two incendiary novels, "Noli Me Tangere" (Touch Me Not) and "El Filibusterismo, " (The Filibuster) had made waves in the Philippines, opening the eyes of Filipinos to their dismal condition. The increasingly restive natives alarmed the colonial government. The latter would have been more alarmed had they discovered that on July 3, 1892, Rizal founded the La Liga Filipina, a sub-rosa organization whose aim was to establish an ideal society, whose members were pledged "to mutual protection against any adversity, to provide defense against violence and injustice, to stimulate education, agriculture and commerce, to study and apply reforms…"
In Dapitan, Rizal found not a hermitage but windows for effecting social change. Losing no time, Rizal talked his commandant-warden, Ricardo Carnicero, into granting him freedom of movement. In return, he promised not to escape.
Rizal put up a school for boys that became his laboratory for molding the "whole man." Besides the basic subjects of reading, writing, mathematics, Spanish and English, he taught his pupils boxing, swimming, fencing and sailing. Agriculture and community work was part of his curriculum, as well as lessons that could be imparted only by real-life experiences. Often, he took his wards on perilous field trips to test their mettle. Rizal's whole man must be not only mentally and physically fit, he must also have the bravura to cope with the unpredictable world outside the classroom where intelligence was needed most.
Rizal also built a hospital. He earned good fees from the wealthy but treated the poor gratis. He continued to write poetry, sketch and sculpt. At the urging of Ferdinand Blumentritt, his Austrian friend, he worked on a Tagalog grammar and learned Bisayan.
Fr. Pablo Pastells, then the Jesuit superior in the Philippines, began a lengthy correspondence with Rizal in the hope of saving the brilliant Ateneo alumnus from his "shipwreck of faith." Rizal obliged with an epistolary debate, substantiating his arguments with the writings of philosophers and historians whom he quoted from memory, because he had no access to a library. Rizal was also in touch with leading ethnologists, botanists and zoologists in Europe, to whom he sent specimens of unusual plants and insects and sketches of unfamiliar animals, flowers and shells found in Dapitan. As a result of this exchange, a frog, a beetle and a lizard were named after him.
Rizal also engaged in the copra and hemp business. He formed a cooperative to help break the Chinese trade monopoly in Dapitan. He helped fishermen increase their catch by teaching them scientific fishing methods. He built Dapitan's first water system, lit its streets, drained its marshes to prevent malaria and beautified its plaza.
He even played lotto and won, investing his winnings in a sizable farm in Talisay, a seaside barrio, which he turned into a working plantation.
Several times during his exile, Rizal demanded that he be brought to trial and face judgment, and that if there were no further reasons for his exile, be set free. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. In February 1895 Rizal met the 18-year-old Josephine Bracken, the adopted daughter of one of his patients. The two fell in love, but were forbidden to marry in church unless Rizal "retracted his religious errors," specifically his embrace of freemasonry. Instead of bowing to the clergy, Rizal chose to live with Josephine as his wife, believing there was no impediment to their union before the eyes of God.
In June 1896 Rizal was visited by Pio Valenzuela, Bonifacio's emissary, who informed him about the Katipunan and the imminence of revolution. Rizal refused to endorse Bonifacio's plans for an armed struggle because they appeared fatally inadequate, though he suggested revolutionary tactics that might help the Katipunan.
All told, Dapitan showed a facet of Rizal's character that is often overlooked because of his larger-than- life image as idealist-martyr: his down-to-earth notion of social change. So even as he aimed for the stars, his feet were firmly planted on the ground.
In transforming backward Dapitan into a progressive community, Rizal demonstrated that he had a full grasp of the demands of development such as education, health services, infrastructure, livelihood, agriculture, security and the many other factors that empower people to live a better life. Without patronage, without resorting to bribery or any shady arrangement, without the authority invested by high position, Rizal created a model community, a microcosm of what the Philippines could become given a leadership that cared for it, exactly as he had envisioned in La Liga Filipina.
Aquino can have no better mentor as he begins to govern a nation so hungry for a leader who treads the high ground but at the same time can translate his idealism into reality.
Dr. Pablo S. Trillana III is the supreme commander of the Order of the Knights of Rizal.
Contributor Philippine Daily Inquirer
Posted date: June 18, 2010
Today, June 19, 2010, is the the 149th birth anniversary of our national hero Dr. Jose Rizal and is 11 days before Benigno "Noynoy" Aquino III will take his oath as the 15th President of the Republic.
Rizal never held any office even remotely comparable to the presidency. But Aquino can learn a thing or two about leadership from Rizal's life as an exile in Dapitan.
Immediately after returning to the Philippines on June 26, 1892, Rizal was charged with smuggling anti-friar leaflets. Without the benefit of a trial, he was then shipped out to Dapitan. He arrived in that lonely Mindanao outpost, "the edge of nowhere," as writer Leon Ma. Guerrero described it, on July 17, 1892 and stayed there until July 31, 1896.
Before the Dapitan interlude, Rizal's two incendiary novels, "Noli Me Tangere" (Touch Me Not) and "El Filibusterismo, " (The Filibuster) had made waves in the Philippines, opening the eyes of Filipinos to their dismal condition. The increasingly restive natives alarmed the colonial government. The latter would have been more alarmed had they discovered that on July 3, 1892, Rizal founded the La Liga Filipina, a sub-rosa organization whose aim was to establish an ideal society, whose members were pledged "to mutual protection against any adversity, to provide defense against violence and injustice, to stimulate education, agriculture and commerce, to study and apply reforms…"
In Dapitan, Rizal found not a hermitage but windows for effecting social change. Losing no time, Rizal talked his commandant-warden, Ricardo Carnicero, into granting him freedom of movement. In return, he promised not to escape.
Rizal put up a school for boys that became his laboratory for molding the "whole man." Besides the basic subjects of reading, writing, mathematics, Spanish and English, he taught his pupils boxing, swimming, fencing and sailing. Agriculture and community work was part of his curriculum, as well as lessons that could be imparted only by real-life experiences. Often, he took his wards on perilous field trips to test their mettle. Rizal's whole man must be not only mentally and physically fit, he must also have the bravura to cope with the unpredictable world outside the classroom where intelligence was needed most.
Rizal also built a hospital. He earned good fees from the wealthy but treated the poor gratis. He continued to write poetry, sketch and sculpt. At the urging of Ferdinand Blumentritt, his Austrian friend, he worked on a Tagalog grammar and learned Bisayan.
Fr. Pablo Pastells, then the Jesuit superior in the Philippines, began a lengthy correspondence with Rizal in the hope of saving the brilliant Ateneo alumnus from his "shipwreck of faith." Rizal obliged with an epistolary debate, substantiating his arguments with the writings of philosophers and historians whom he quoted from memory, because he had no access to a library. Rizal was also in touch with leading ethnologists, botanists and zoologists in Europe, to whom he sent specimens of unusual plants and insects and sketches of unfamiliar animals, flowers and shells found in Dapitan. As a result of this exchange, a frog, a beetle and a lizard were named after him.
Rizal also engaged in the copra and hemp business. He formed a cooperative to help break the Chinese trade monopoly in Dapitan. He helped fishermen increase their catch by teaching them scientific fishing methods. He built Dapitan's first water system, lit its streets, drained its marshes to prevent malaria and beautified its plaza.
He even played lotto and won, investing his winnings in a sizable farm in Talisay, a seaside barrio, which he turned into a working plantation.
Several times during his exile, Rizal demanded that he be brought to trial and face judgment, and that if there were no further reasons for his exile, be set free. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. In February 1895 Rizal met the 18-year-old Josephine Bracken, the adopted daughter of one of his patients. The two fell in love, but were forbidden to marry in church unless Rizal "retracted his religious errors," specifically his embrace of freemasonry. Instead of bowing to the clergy, Rizal chose to live with Josephine as his wife, believing there was no impediment to their union before the eyes of God.
In June 1896 Rizal was visited by Pio Valenzuela, Bonifacio's emissary, who informed him about the Katipunan and the imminence of revolution. Rizal refused to endorse Bonifacio's plans for an armed struggle because they appeared fatally inadequate, though he suggested revolutionary tactics that might help the Katipunan.
All told, Dapitan showed a facet of Rizal's character that is often overlooked because of his larger-than- life image as idealist-martyr: his down-to-earth notion of social change. So even as he aimed for the stars, his feet were firmly planted on the ground.
In transforming backward Dapitan into a progressive community, Rizal demonstrated that he had a full grasp of the demands of development such as education, health services, infrastructure, livelihood, agriculture, security and the many other factors that empower people to live a better life. Without patronage, without resorting to bribery or any shady arrangement, without the authority invested by high position, Rizal created a model community, a microcosm of what the Philippines could become given a leadership that cared for it, exactly as he had envisioned in La Liga Filipina.
Aquino can have no better mentor as he begins to govern a nation so hungry for a leader who treads the high ground but at the same time can translate his idealism into reality.
Dr. Pablo S. Trillana III is the supreme commander of the Order of the Knights of Rizal.
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