Where are the youth?

Like every man, he had his own faults and weaknesses. But unlike most others, he has been exalted in countless ways. Monuments have been built in his memory not only in the Philippines but even in other countries, streets in every Philippine city and town are named after him, countless articles have been written in praise of him, lectures are held year after year on his life and works, and there is even a required course on his life and works in the college curriculum.

No one questions his passionate love for the land of his birth, his major role in the nascent Filipinos’ struggle for reforms and liberties, his vital contributions to the birthing of the nation. His novels, “Noli Me Tangere” and “El Filibusterismo” are said to have been the “guiding force for other patriots to rally for the country’s cause.” Inquirer columnist Randy David says he was “the first of his generation to self-consciously claim the term ‘Filipino’ as an identity” for the native indios.  Historian Gregorio F. Zaide described him as “one of the world’s greatest personalities,” a “many-splendored genius.”

Today we honor Jose Rizal, the country’s preeminent national hero, by remembering the ultimate sacrifice he made for his country. Exactly 115 years ago, Spain’s colonial government in the Philippines executed Rizal by firing squad at Bagumbayan (now Rizal Park) for the crimes of rebellion, sedition and conspiracy. In fact, he had been fighting for the noblest ideals of freedom and for an end to oppression, arrogance of power and social inequality—all of which continue to plague Philippine society to this day, except that these are being perpetuated no longer by Spaniards but by Filipinos.

Today also signals the end of the 150th anniversary celebrations of Rizal’s birth on June 19, 1861, for which a series of special events and activities were lined up to run from June 19, 2011 to Dec. 31, 2011—among these, art exhibits of Rizal’s literary works,  lectures on Rizal’s life and contributions; a tour to Dapitan, his place of exile; a letter-writing contest; music and dance performances; the re-introduction of a book on Rizal; and the launching of an album of rock songs using as lyrics lines from his poems. All this was supposed to enhance public enthusiasm for Rizal the hero and imbue the new generation of Filipinos with a deeper sense of patriotism.

One, therefore, cannot help but wonder why, despite all the past tributes and memorials in his honor, and this year’s special events, the evils Rizal fought to eradicate persist, while Rizal’s birth anniversary celebration this year seems to be generally passing before the public eye into sesquicentennial insignificance. And to think that in this part of the world, milestones—golden jubilees, centennials, etc.—are occasions for big celebrations.

Some historians, like Renato Constantino, trace this lackadaisical attitude toward Rizal to his not being the actual leader of the Philippine Revolution. A few days before his execution, Rizal issued a vehement statement opposing the Revolution because he regarded it as a crime, and he strongly believed “in the necessity of education in the achievement of liberties.” But Dr. Pio Valenzuela, two decades later, said that Rizal was not totally opposed to the Revolution; he was just waiting for the right conditions and the right time.

It could be that the Revolution was in fact Rizal’s dilemma. And this could have been reflected in “Noli’s” Crisostomo Ibarra who was, for a while, persistent in pushing for education and “Fili’s” Simoun (actually Ibarra in disguise), the secret founder of the failed revolution, who died after taking poison to elude arrest. When Simoun breathed his last, the priest attending to him, Padre Florentino (portrayed in the novel as a patriotic Filipino priest), murmured: “Where are the youth who will consecrate their golden hours, their illusions, and their enthusiasm to the welfare of their native land? Where are the youth who will generously pour out their blood to wash away so much shame, so much crime, so much abomination?”

When Rizal breathed his last 115 years ago, could the same questions have been in his mind? If he were alive today, would he be asking the same questions?