On Bonifacio Day, 13 years ago, I tried to keep a straight face upon seeing then Mayor Alfredo Lim and Vice Mayor Lito Atienza sporting funny Katipunan hats. The mood was somber, everyone was in Filipiniana attire, and then Nick Joaquin growled from the back of the crowd, “Where are the masses?”

His remark made me remember the title of Teodoro Agoncillo’s landmark book, “Revolt of the Masses: The Story of Bonifacio and the Katipunan.” I turned and saw the National Artist for Literature in an ill-fitting barong Tagalog that had seen better days and multiple washings. His breath reeking of beer, he growled louder, “Where are the workers?” Militant groups were waving their red flags elsewhere.

Speeches rolled on as we sat on plastic chairs, the morning sun melting the make-up of the women and drawing beads of sweat from the men. There I was reflecting on the figure of Andres Bonifacio created by National Artist Guillermo Tolentino. Bonifacio stood above us on a granite pedestal. I asked myself: Where was the iconic white camisa de chino and the screaming red neckerchief and kundiman pants rolled up to the knees revealing bare feet? Tolentino’s Bonifacio was not the screaming figure in Carlos Francisco’s mural inside Manila City Hall. Tolentino’s Bonifacio was not the image of the old Balintawak monument that now stands in front of Vinzons Hall in UP Diliman. Tolentino’s Bonifacio was garbed in an elegant embroidered barong Tagalog. Tolentino’s Bonifacio stood with a quiet but defiant dignity characteristic of heroes. Mayor Lim probably found this image so lame that he commissioned Eduardo Castrillo to conjure a multi-colored komiks version of the Hero of Manila beside City Hall.

Gazing at Tolentino’s Bonifacio I remembered that this area between the neo-classic Manila Post Office and the art-deco Metropolitan Theater was known as Liwasang Bonifacio. The same place was formerly Plaza Lawton. When Philippine history was rewritten to reflect the Filipino viewpoint, changes occurred not only in textbooks and our consciousness but in more concrete ways, with streets being renamed. Dewey Boulevard, commemorating George Dewey and the US naval victory in Manila Bay on May 1, 1898 over the antiquated Spanish fleet, was changed to [Manuel] Roxas Boulevard. Plaza Lawton gave way to Liwasang Bonifacio. Nobody remembers US General Lawton, the highest-ranking casualty of the Philippine-American War. Lawton was killed by a sniper in San Mateo, then under the military command of Filipino General Licerio Geronimo.

Before serving in the Philippines, Lawton was involved in the capture of the Indian chief Geronimo. Isn’t it ironic that Lawton was killed by the band of a Filipino general named Geronimo?

Street names, monuments and commemorations are supposed to make us remember, but in fact nobody remembers. Last Monday, as guest of the City of Caloocan, I was able to go round the Bonifacio monument in the rotonda once known as Grace Park because it was donated to the city by His Grace, the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Manila. Today, the place is known simply as Monumento because it simply is the most inspiring piece of public art anywhere in the Philippines. This masterpiece by Tolentino has been declared as both a National Historical Landmark and a National Cultural Treasure.

Sculpted in parts from 1930-1933 and cast in bronze in Milan, Italy, Tolentino created the story of the Philippine Revolution of 1896 from the execution of Gomburza in 1872. It is 333 feet high, the number corresponding to the 333 years the Philippines was under Spanish rule. The obelisk rests on an octagonal base, each side commemorating the eight provinces placed under martial law after the outbreak of the Philippine Revolution in 1896. Every detail in the monument has a symbolic or historical meaning now unfortunately forgotten.

I am fortunate to have met and interviewed Tolentino’s widow, Paz Raymundo, before she suffered a crippling aneurysm in her pre-war home along Retiro Street in Manila. She showed me the studio and the library of the maestro, and even cooked the maestro’s favorite spaghetti sauce of tomato and chicken. After seeing the monument again, 25 years since my first visit, I am left with two lifelong regrets. First, when Mrs. Tolentino offered me a square granite slab, the only one imported from Italy left unused when the monument was built, it was too heavy for me to carry. Second, after she showed me the cheerful floral curtains she had made for their living room, she also showed me the patterns for the curtains which were cut out of the original blueprints for the Monumento!

Years later, when I told her I should have kept them, she replied, “Why didn’t you ask for them? They have been lying around the house for so long!”

Bonifacio will be remembered again next November and we can only hope that each commemoration leads to a deeper understanding rather than forgetting. Andres Bonifacio, National Hero and Founder of the Katipunan, is named after St. Andrew the Apostle who was martyred on an X-shaped cross and St. Boniface, Apostle of Germany, martyr, patron of brewers, and sometimes invoked against sodomy. There are so many stray connections that can be woven into a new tapestry to enrich boring textbook history.

Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu