Of the many small sculptures made by Rizal, two came to mind after I watched “GomBurZa”: First is a statuette of soft “batikuling” wood representing the “Sacred Heart” that Rizal carved when he was a high school boarding student at the Ateneo Municipal; the other, known as “Orate fratres” (Brothers, Let us pray), that he did as an adult and molded in clay depicts a hefty friar who holds in his right hand a tray with a wine bottle and glass, on his belly is the silhouette of a woman (presumably called “Rosario”), and at his feet a sack of money. These two statues frame Rizal’s thinking as a boy and as a mature adult. These show the young fervent religious Rizal and the one that later suffered what he described as “a shipwreck of faith.”
While most “GomBurZa” viewers were touched by the gruesome execution scene, what is memorable to me is the Recollect superior who, speaking like an oracle, predicted that long after people had forgotten the name of the governor general who signed the writ of execution, history will remember and blame the friars of the events of 1872. In one of my notebooks, I have the following figures from 1898: There were an estimated 1,180 regular clergy in the Philippines. “Regulars” were clergy affiliated with a religious order in contrast with “seculars” like the martyred Jose Burgos, Mariano Gomes, and Jacinto Zamora who were clergy not affiliated with a religious order. One source listed about 439 Spanish “regulars” as prisoners of the Malolos government: 117 Augustinians, 115 Dominicans, 86 Recollects, 74 Franciscans, 34 Jesuits, and 13 Benedictines. Twenty-five of these 439 prisoners died in captivity. In the light of the total number of Spanish prisoners held by the Aguinaldo government, friars were barely 5 percent, yet they were the most prominent, and, depending on who held them, they were treated in extremes. Sometimes so good that some lay prisoners gave themselves a tonsure to get better treatment from their captors. On the other hand, there were isolated cases of ill-treatment: hunger, torture, harassment, and even execution.
Like many Filipinos raised on an anti-friar history, I never questioned why they get a bad rap. When I grew up and matured as a historian, I realized that things are not as simplistic as textbook history makes them to be. If one looks back at the social structure of the 19th-century Philippines, it is clear that friars were integral to the colonial enterprise, more so in places outside or far from the walls of Intramuros. Friars were Spanish, they were patriotic, and some influenced colonial policy. While it is true then, and now, that clergy commit abuses, these were the bad eggs that had to be thrown out of a basket of good eggs. Contrary to popular belief, many friars were popular among the faithful.
Telesforo Canseco’s memoir of the Philippine Revolution gives us a different view. Reacting to the move for the expulsion of the friars in San Francisco de Malabon (now General Trias, Cavite) he quoted someone who asked, “Cung umalis ang mga pareng Castila, sinong matitirang pari? Ang mga Tagalog? Cun ganoon ay caramihan natin ay maguiguing judio. (If the Spanish priests leave, who will be left? The Tagalog priests? In that case, many of us will become Jews.)” Canseco’s clear bias explains why he isn’t on the standard reading list for courses on Philippine history from primary sources. He is not alone, there were letters exchanged between Emilio Aguinaldo and a certain fray Tomas Espejo, a Dominican assigned to Pateros. Fray Tomas had written Aguinaldo, probably late in 1896 because we have Aguinaldo’s reply dated Jan. 8, 1897, that is nine days after the execution of Rizal, where he says among other things:
“… [E]very time I remember your great goodness of heart, I have raised my eyes to God and I have always said that if all the Spaniards were like you, there would never have been or ever would be an insurrection. It should be clear, Reverend Father, that this opinion has been caused in me by the repeated abuses, insults, and machinations of your compatriots who desire to do us harm. If this had not been the case there would have been no rebellion.”
On the friar abuses, a lot has been written by the patriots we classify as “propagandists.” It is obvious that over the centuries, whether in Europe or the Philippines, there were friars who went against their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. We have accounts of friar parish priests in far-flung areas who loved and acted like feudal lords, but these were isolated rather than general cases. There were persistent calls for the expulsion of the friars from the Spanish colonial times to the short revolutionary times, and even into the early American colonial period but how did Filipinos look upon or treat them? If they were as bad as they were supposed to be, how come friars (even bad ones) could walk freely, even in communities where he was perhaps the only Spaniard? Spain did not have the manpower to maintain the far-flung colony leading to one source that stated: “It is more important, for the preservation of the colony to send 200 religious than 2,000 bayonets.”
If one reads the primary sources, one will see that history is complicated. It calls for a more nuanced retelling of the past so that the present and future become clearer.
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu