Madrid, 25 June 1884.
It’s 9pm and Rizal is running late and hungry. It is not typical of him to be late, but today he was busy throughout the day at the University, starting with the Greek class in which he won the top prize. Low on money – the collapse of global sugar prices is hurting the income of his family back in Calamba – he decided to skip lunch and wait for a nice dinner and champagne at the Restaurante Inglés. Now he’s fretting that he may have missed out on the food and, worse, the celebration in honor of his friends, Juan Luna and Félix Resurrección Hidalgo, who won gold and silver medals at the prestigious Exposición Nacional de Bellas Artes.
 |
| Spoliarium by Juan Luna |
Upon entering, he sees a big crowd of about sixty cramming around a long table. He recognizes many Filipino paisanos in Madrid: the host Pedro Paterno and his brothers Maximino and Antonio, Graciano López Jaena, Luna’s elder brother Manuel, and of course, the guests of honor Luna himself and Hidalgo. Sitting near Professor Morayta are some metropolitan Spaniards who he thinks are politicians and journalists. At least one, he had been told, is from the El Imparcial, a liberal newspaper.
Today is an important event for Filipinos who have almost always been mistaken for Chinese, Japanese or Spanish Americans even here in the metropole. Pedro spent money on this banquet not only to celebrate Hidalgo and Luna but also to make sure that their home province becomes better known to the capital and the world.
“Rizal!” Some of them greet loudly upon seeing him.
“I am surprised you show up without a lady friend. Or is that why you are late?” Jaena teases from one corner.
“Sorry amigos. I was kept busy all day at the university.” Rizal smiles. He goes to shake nearby Hidalgo’s hand. “Felicidades. Congratulations my friend. You’ve made all of us proud.”
Hidalgo rises from his chair. “Don’t be stranger. Give me a hug.” They embrace like long lost brothers until Luna booms across the table. “What about my hug?”
Rizal walks around the table, briefly shaking hands with some along the way, until he reaches Luna who opens his arms widely for the hug.
“Felicidades indio! You showed Spain how we indios bravos can beat them at their own game.” Some Spaniards seem to shudder at the use of indios to refer to native peoples, but Rizal and his friends use it as a badge of honor.
For some, the Filipino painter’s triumph may be a surprise, as though coming out of nowhere. But Luna had already won a silver medal four years ago for The Death of Cleopatra.
 |
| The Death of Cleopatra by Juan Luna |
Rizal gives Luna a tight hug until Luna comments “Is that your stomach growling?” Slightly embarrassed, Rizal says, “See? Even my stomach wants to lionize you.”
Jaena hands him a glass of champagne, “Here, have some champagne.”
Pedro looks around the table to assure himself that no one is missing, then rises from his chair with a glass in his hand.
“Let’s all drink to Luna’s and Hidalgo’s successes. Today is the beginning of many more to come. It’s not everyday that non-Europeans win the prestigious Madrid Exposition. But this year, not one but two of us did. Luna’s gold medal for Spoliarium and Hidalgo’s silver medal for Christian Virgins Exposed to the Populace are the pride of our homeland.”
There were a few speakers before Rizal. But when it's his turn to give his Brindis speech, his eloquence and confidence makes everyone stop all small conversations to listen...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 |
| A dramatic portrayal of Rizal giving the speech now famously known as "Brindis" speech. |
Addressing the friendly non-Filipinos in the group, Rizal begins, “In rising to speak I have no fear that you will listen to me with superciliousness, for you have come here to add to ours your enthusiasm, the stimulus of youth, and you cannot but be indulgent. Sympathetic currents pervade the air, bonds of fellowship radiate in all directions, generous souls listen, and so I do not fear for my humble personality, nor do I doubt your kindness. Sincere men yourselves, you seek only sincerity, and from that height, where noble sentiments prevail, you give no heed to sordid trifles. You survey the whole field, you weigh the cause and extend your hand to whomsoever like myself, desires to unite with you in a single thought, in a sole aspiration: the glorification of genius, the grandeur of the fatherland!”
Now looking at Luna and Hidalgo, he says, “Such is, indeed, the reason for this gathering. In the history of mankind there are names which in themselves signify an achievement-which call up reverence and greatness; names which, like magic formulas, invoke agreeable and pleasant ideas; names which come to form a compact, a token of peace, a bond of love among the nations. To such belong the names of Luna and Hidalgo: their splendor illuminates two extremes of the globe - the Orient and the Occident, Spain and the Philippines. As I utter them, I seem to see two luminous arches that rise from either region to blend there on high, impelled by the sympathy of a common origin, and from that height to unite two peoples with eternal bonds; two peoples whom the seas and space vainly separate; two peoples among whom do not germinate the seeds of disunion blindly sown by men and their despotism. Luna and Hidalgo are the pride of Spain as of the Philippines - though born in the Philippines, they might have been born in Spain, for genius has no country; genius bursts forth everywhere; genius is like light and air, the patrimony of all: cosmopolitan as space, as life and God.”
Now he gravitates to the political, “The Philippines' patriarchal era is passing, the illustrious deeds of its sons are not circumscribed by the home; the oriental chrysalis is quitting its cocoon; the dawn of a broader day is heralded for those regions in brilliant tints and rosy dawn-hues; and that race, lethargic during the night of history while the sun was illuminating other continents, begins to wake, urged by the electric' shock produced by contact with the occidental peoples, and begs for light, life, and the civilization that once might have been its heritage, thus conforming to the eternal laws of constant evolution, of transformation, of recurring phenomena, of progress...”
“In El Spoliarium - on that canvas which is not mute -is heard the tumult of the throng, the cry of slaves, the metallic rattle of the armor on the corpses, the sobs of orphans, the hum of prayers, with as much force and realism as is heard the crash of the thunder amid the roar of the cataracts, or the fearful and frightful rumble of the earthquake. The same nature that conceives such phenomena has also a share in those lines. On the other hand, in Hidalgo's work there are revealed feelings of the purest kind; ideal expression of melancholy, beauty, and weakness-victims of brute force…”
 |
| Virgins Exposed to the Populace by Hidalgo |
“Yet both of them-although so different-in appearance, at least, are fundamentally one; just as our hearts beat in unison in spite of striking differences. Both, by depicting from their palettes the dazzling rays of the tropical sun, transform them into rays of unfading glory with which they invest the fatherland. Both express the spirit of our social, moral and political life; humanity subjected to hard trials, humanity unredeemed; reason and aspiration in open fight with prejudice, fanaticism and injustice… If the mother teaches her child her language in order to understand its joys, its needs, and its woes; so Spain, like that mother, also teaches her language to Filipinos, in spite of the opposition of those purblind pygmies who, sure of the present, are unable to extend their vision into the future, who do not weigh the consequences.”
Rizal again looks around on the Spanish guests, “Happily, brothers are more-generosity and nobility are innate under the sky of Spain-of this you are all patent proof. You have unanimously responded, you have cooperated, and you would have done more, had more been asked. Seated at our festal board and honoring the illustrious sons of the Philippines, you also honor Spain, because, as you are well aware, Spain's boundaries are not the Atlantic or the Bay of Biscay or the Mediterranean-a shame would it be for water to place a barrier to her greatness, her thought. Luna and Hidalgo belong to you as much as to us. You love them, you see in them noble hopes, valuable examples.”
Here comes the important part, his voice trembles slightly. “But the Philippines' gratitude toward her illustrious sons was yet unsatisfied; and desiring to give free rein to the thoughts that seethe her mind, to the feelings that overflow her heart, and to the words that escape from her lips, we have all come together here at this banquet to mingle our vows, to give shape to that mutual understanding between two races which love and care for each other, united morally, socially and politically for the space of four centuries, so that they may form in the future a single nation in spirit, in duties, in aims, in rights.”
Raising his glass, he toasts, “I drink, then, to our artists Luna and Hidalgo, genuine and pure glories of two peoples. I drink to the persons who have given them aid on the painful road of art! I drink that the Filipno youth-sacred hope of my fatherland may imitate such valuable examples; and that the mother Spain, solicitous and heedful of the welfare of her provinces, may quickly put into practice the reforms she has so long planned. The furrow is laid out and the land is not sterile! And finally, I drink to the happiness of those parents who, deprived of their sons' affection, from those distant regions follow them with moist gaze and throbbing hearts across the seas and distance; sacrificing on the altar of the common good, the sweet consolations that are so scarce in the decline of life — precious and solitary flowers that spring up on the borders of the tomb.” He raises his glass to a loud applause, takes a giant sip and sits down.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 |
| Jose Rizal in Spain |
After all the speeches, Rizal approaches Professor Morayta. “Excuse me, Professor. Could I have a minute of your time?”
After walking away from the crowd, Rizal says, “I would like to join the Freemasons. May I humbly request your recommendation, por favor?”
Professor Morayta smiles. “Of course. But are you sure? I know you are a good Catholic and the Pope just published a condemnation of Freemasonry last month for promoting naturalism, popular sovereignty, and the separation of church and state. He especially condemned the promotion of public education that denies the Church's role and where ‘the education of youth is exclusively in the hands of laymen.’”
“Yes. That’s exactly the kind of education I wish all Filipinos had an option to have. I know my mother would not approve, and my brother warned me against upsetting the Dominican Order who we rent our land from. That’s why they don’t need to know about it.”
Long conflicted about this, Rizal finally made this decision, remembering how in 1872 his family received no help from the Order when his mother was imprisoned for a false accusation and his brother had to flee persecution for association with the Cavite Mutiny.
While lost in thought, Morayta pats him on the shoulder, “Of course, I will recommend you. Also I would like to congratulate you for your speech. I was told that El Imparcial will definitely write about our two Filipino friends’ achievement as well as your speech highlighting the situations in your homeland. It will surely echo the situations in the Philippines around the world. Come, I want you to know some people.”
He leads Rizal across the room to the Spanish guests, “Don Segismundo Moret and Don Rafael Maria de Labra, I would like to introduce to you Jose Rizal, one of our brightest senior students studying medicine at our university.”
Morayta adds, “Rizal, as you already know, Don Moret is now Minister of the Interior but when Minister of Overseas Territories under by General Prim he pushed for the abolition of slavery and the creation of a constitution for Puerto Rico. And Don Labra was among the first to propose Cuban autonomy in his magazine. He also works with Catalan activists.”
Rizal shakes their hands, “It’s a great honor to meet you, Don Moret and Don Labra.”
Labra then says “Thank you for your enlightening speech. It’s unfortunate that we never got to hear something like this before. I believe I am not the only one in Madrid unaware of the demands of the Philippines province.”
Rizal shakes his head, “Of course not, Sir. You surely would not have heard of it. Because the colonia filipina here does not dare talk about the Philippine condition in public for fear of being labeled filibusteros. And you will certainly not hear about it from the governors or administrators who were sent there.”
Moret says, “I cannot agree more with your speech, young man. Spain must learn how to treat our own peoples across the globe better. Otherwise, she will lose what little remains of her overseas domains. It shouldn’t be difficult. Now we only have only the Antilles and Pacific islands left. Cuba and Puerto Rico would already have gained their independence too if not for white slave-owners fearing a Haiti-like slave-led revolution.”
 |
| Haitian Revolution (1791-1804) when self-freed slave overthrew French rule. |
Labra nods and says, “It’s not like when we were given dominion over literally half of the globe by the Pope. From Mexico to Patagonia, American territories seceded after the end of the Peninsular War. And then we have Carlist Wars of succession and all kind of chaos and instability. Now we are just a second-rate power waiting to be swallowed up by the Great Powers. Our decline has made Britain the world’s superpower controlling global trade. Our royal succession mess caused the war between France and Prussia and created the German Empire – the very war that also caused the Papal State to lose Rome to Italian unification. What with the Cuba's Ten Year's War and Puerto Rico's Grito de Lares ? The Catalans are also for independence. Who knows what spoil will come out of the Scramble of the Spanish Empire? The US is eyeing Cuba, and Bismarck is already making attempts on our Pacific islands.”
After patiently listening, Rizal politely replies, “But Spain still has us. I doubt if any Powers are interested in the Philippines, except the brief British Occupation during the Seven Years' War, because we have no gold, silver or much spices. But what we do have is the hardworking Filipino people who, given a chance, will provide Spain with all the drive it needs in order to return to the rank of a world-class nation again. Spain must not waste her human potentials, but use all of the brains of all her peoples and treat them equally regardless of whether they are whites, creoles, mestizos, or, like myself, brown indios. Right now, we are second-class citizens even in our own land, despite sharing the same language and customs, while the Spanish-born peninsulares continue to enjoy privileges that native filipinos like us cannot even dream of. I believe that Luna, Hidalgo and many others have clearly shown that we can be as good as peninsulares. So why aren’t we given equal political rights? Unlike the Cubans, we haven’t had representation in the Cortes for decades. That’s why we cannot can raise our voices, where it matters, on the plight of our peoples under the oppression of the friars. How can they call themselves men of God and treat people like beasts?”
Moret nods, “That’s true. Since we lost Mexico along with Zacatecas and Potosí silver to buy Chinese goods, the Acapulco-Manila galleon stopped after 250 years of enriching the empire. The Philippine Province has since been pretty much left a backwater province under the virtual control of the Orders, largely neglected by the remote motherland until Suez Canal.”
 |
| Route of the Acapulco-Manila Galleons |
Rizal adds, “Yes, sir. All that time, the Orders strengthened their grips on both bodies and minds of the whole society to keep us in an endless cycle of poverty and ignorance. Even the governors who come and go have to rely heavily on them for their control. That’s why several of us found ourselves in Madrid because of the oppression under these friars which has intensified after the Cavite Mutiny of 1872. That cataclysmic event led to the executions of the three secular friars and exiles of many others including Don Paterno's father. Even my own elder brother Paciano also had to leave university and hide.”
Labra says, “I can only imagine what it’s like. But I shuddered when I heard Mr. Jaena said in his excellent speech that, if there is something grand, something sublime, in the Spoliarium, it is because behind the canvas, behind the painted figures there floats the living image of the Filipino people sighing its misfortune. Because the Philippines is nothing more than a real spoliarium with all its horrors.”
Rizal nods emphatically, “Absolutely, Luna's Spoliarium with its bloody carcasses of slave gladiators being dragged away from the arena where they had entertained their Roman oppressors with their lives, stripped to satisfy the lewd contempt of their Roman persecutors with their honor, embodied the essence of our social, moral and political life: humanity in severe ordeal, humanity unredeemed, reason and idealism in open struggle with prejudice, fanaticism and injustice. And Hidalgo’s Christian Virgins speaks of the abuse of our Filipino mothers and sisters. After almost 400 years of Spanish rule, the strong Filipino woman has been subjugated to an absolute patriarchy, completely helpless under the all-male friars’ domination.”
 |
| The executions of GomBurZa after Cavite Mutiny of 1872 |
At this point, Rizal’s voice trembles again. Hidalgo’s painting reminds him too much of how his mother, whose failing sight compelled him decide to study medicine, was roughly arrested, forced to walk on feet for fifty kilometers to the prison in Santa Cruz, and imprisoned there for over a year.
He sighs, “But how many viewers will see through the Neoclassic façade and see the real inspirations behind them — those like Padres Gomez, Burgos and Zamora who were brutally executed? And how many more will suffer the same fate?”
Morayta adds, “Most urgently, I heard about the ambush against the French in Tonkin which apparently just happened yesterday. I fear the possibility of Spain being pulled into the conflict and Filipino soldiers sent to fight like the slave gladiators in Tonkin to do France’s bidding.”
Labra says, “I certainly hope that will not come to pass. It was horrible that Spain joined France to invade Cochinchina and sent Filipino troops to fight their neighbors at that time not too long ago…”
Moret then extends his hand to Rizal, “I doubt that will happen, and I will do whatever I can to prevent it. Now if you will excuse me, I think I need to leave soon.”
Labra says he too has to leave, so Morayta will walk them out. Rizal shakes their hands, feeling glad to make their acquaintances.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 |
| Juan Luna at his Paris studio |
After they left, Rizal grabs more champagne and walks over to Luna.
“I’m surprised they haven’t taken back your gold medal, amigo! Maybe seeing your Spanish name, they forgot to check that you are not European!” Rizal jokes.
Luna laughs, “I am pretty sure that’s how it went down. But soon after they realized their mistake, they did the next worst thing by denying me the Grand Prize which the top winner deserves, despite having bested two established Spanish-born artists, most probably because they didn’t like the palette of my skin.”
“I am sure it will be rectified. We could talk to some journalists. You have given them no way to deny that we are equal to them. I am sick of seeing mediocrity elevated to height only by the virtue of its whiteness, and excellence debased due to its color.”
“That makes two of us. Having said that, even if we are still regarded as second class here, it’s still much better than back home where those in power are far more likely to punish than applaud native talents, self-respect and independent spirits. When timing is right, I will try to get my younger brother Antonio to join us here where people battle with ideas not swords. Right now he’s doing a lot of swordsmanship, fencing, and military tactics. I hope he will not enlist and die for Spain. If he needs to fight, it should be for our own native land. He’s way smarter than me, having studied chemistry and all sorts of science. A mind like his should not be wasted.”
Rizal nods emphatically, “You are like my brother Paciano. He sacrificed everything to help get me here.”
“Of course, that’s what brothers do. I’m sure he knows you are here not just to study medicine to heal people but to do greater things and heal the land. I hope more people like you will follow. People like Del Pilar... I am worried about his safety. He’s already marked because of his brother’s mutiny involvement.”
“I heard that he’s been busy with anti-friar movement which is quite dangerous. I don’t know if that’s wise at this stage. Things can change quickly, and nobody can guarantee his safety there.”
 |
| The Blood Compact by Juan Luna |
Luna then remembers something. “Talking about politics at home, I have an idea for another painting. I want to paint the scene of the Blood Compact between Datu Sikatuns and Legazpi. Will you help me with research on historical details?”
Rizal chuckles, “I will even pose for you. But why do you like to paint Romanticism so much? Why not something like those Impressionists?”
“I guess I could. But indios like us don't have the luxury of doing art for art's sake. I probably would enjoy painting in more modern styles like Goya’s Tres de Mayo or Diasters of War, but the Europeans sure love Romanticism too much. Maybe it gratifies them with a feeling of imperial superiority like the Romans. And it offers relevant themes I can paint our situations with. ”
Luna then leans closer, “I will let you in on a secret. I didn’t even know what a spoliarium was, until one day I visited the Colosseum and a guide told me that it’s where the bodies of dead and dying gladiators were laid. After the tour, I went back there by myself and, right there, at that bleakest spot, I had a vision of a people shackled and oppressed. It wasn’t any slave gladiators but our own people under Spanish rule. That’s when I knew I had to paint it… So, yes, while Goya can be outspoken with his Disasters of War, an Indio like me have to paint Spoliarium and Death of Cleopatra in the style that they cherish.”
“I see. The Egyptian queen is a splendid early heroine of anti-colonial resistance. A subtle slap in the empire’s face.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t want me to stab them with a bamboo spear like Lapulapu did to Magellan, right?”
Rizal laughs, “Of course not. This is not exactly the Battle of Mactan.”
 |
| The Battle of Mactan 1521 when Magenllan was killed by local hero Lapu-Lapu |
At this point, someone speaks out in a drunken voice, “There are other ways we can best them. Sure, we cannot kill them in battles and we don’t all have Luna’s genius to win a contest. But we can take their women, as they have taken ours before. That’s the best proof that we are equal if not better than them.”
Rizal loudly objects, “I sure hope we can prove in other ways that we are better especially in the way we treat as equals those who look different from us.”
For some time now, Rizal has become agitated with his friends’ preference of sexual conquests over intellectual ones. A few months ago, they were talking about reviving the Circulo Hispano-Filipino and co-writing a book together, but most of them only wanted to write about women.
He laments, “Is there nothing to remind them that the Filipino does not come to Europe to enjoy himself, but to work for his liberty and for the dignity of the race? The years of their youth should be used for something more noble and grand because the people back home have placed their hopes on them. They are among the tiny minority of elites lucky enough to get Western-style education and speaks Spanish – the language of the rulers. What a waste!”
He then wonders, while some of his friends are wasting their time far from home, how many more Lunas and Hidalgos are slaving dying away in the rice fields and sugar plantations in the Philippines without ever the chance to hold a plume or a brush? How many in the world for that matter?
Somehow the sad image of a wretched young Egyptian man running alongside Rizal’s ship at Suez Canal picking up the bread that passengers on board threw to him returns to the Filipino’s mind. It was early June 1882 when he passed through the canal which since its opening in 1869 had brought more Filipinos to Spain — some to escape post-1872 persecution.
It was the very thought of the Cavite Mutiny that led Rizal to exchange political comments with the Egyptian quarantine physician who came on board. He was told that Egypt was in the midst of a revolutionary change. The popular Minister of War Urabi had overthrown the former ruler Khedive Tawfiq in a coup, and the whole country seemed to be behind the general. After arriving in Spain, Rizal imagined that the situations for Egyptian people like the bread-begging young man he saw would soon improve once the tyrannical government was removed, but a few months later he heard that Britain had sent troops to crush Urabi’s army and exiled him to Ceylon and he remembered that it was also in Egypt when he heard for the first time the mother-song of revolutions, La Marseillaise.
Rizal makes up his mind. He will use his own literary talents, like when he bedazzled Manila in a competition with his Consejo de los Dioses against those born and bred in Spain — to write his own Spoliarium, on behalf of those who don’t have such opportunities like him and for the sake of the Filipino people. He had been toying with an idea of a book since January. Now it became clear to him that he will write a novel that will expose the ills of Philippine society. Partly inspired by Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin, it will be called Noli Me Tangere.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for your comment!