Jose Rizal, an ilustrado in the 19th Century Spanish Monarchy Restoration

MANILA, Philippines - The hero of Philippine independence was a genuine Spanish free-thinker during his time.

Last June 19 was the 150th birth anniversary of Jose Rizal, the icon of Philippine independence. His memory clouded by the geographical and mental distance that now separates us from the Pacific Ocean, which was once called the “Spanish sea,” the life story of this Filipino is not replete with war stories nor victorious military achievements like the historical liberators of the Americas. An intellectual and a man of letters, assuming a role and figure more like that of Jose Marti but raised in a much more peripheral colonial world, Rizal was neither a criolle like most of the leading figures in the struggle for independence during the 19th Century. Born in a small town in the Philippines (Calamba), his family, a well-off country folk, was a product of a peculiar mix of Chinese, Malayan and Spanish blood. But it was in the Spanish tradition that his education, literature and his tragic destiny were shaped.

Pepe Rizal, as he was known to his friends, was an outstanding student of the Jesuits and Dominicans who traveled to Spain to complete his Bachelor of Arts and Medicine. It is interesting to note that he made that trip westward, crossing the Suez Canal, which had just opened a few years back, and navigating the Mediterranean from Egypt to Barcelona.

The opening of the Suez Canal brought the Philippines closer to Spain and Rizal’s generation made the most out of it. It should be said that it was a brilliant generation, one known in Philippine history as the ilustrado generation. Rizal shared his stay in Spain with a group of very special young Filipinos, among whom, one is compelled to highlight, was the painter Juan Luna, a winner of numerous awards in painting competitions organized by the Academia de San Fernando, as well as the creator of the celebrated canvas Spoliarium, where the dispossession of the dead gladiators is a metaphor for the colonial exploitation of the Philippine Islands.

At 25, Rizal publishes in Berlin a novel, Noli Me Tangere, that, fashioned after the style of that period, portrays critically the Philippine society. He writes it in Spanish, with style and literary touch that has the merits of the novels of Benito Perez Galdos. But he is not able to publish it in Spain because it is clearly a subversive criticism during the period of the Spanish Monarchy Restoration. Galdos could denounce Spanish reactionaries, but for a young Filipino mestizo to portray, in not so vague words, an unjust colonization led by the clergy, overstepped the boundaries of tolerance of that period. The plot of the novel is very eloquent. Juan Crisostomo Ibarra, a young Filipino ilustrado, returns to Manila after traveling around Europe for several years. His reformist projects soon come up against a establishment opposed to change represented by the friars.

In Madrid, he contributes to a magazine called La Solidaridad and at the age of 30, he publishes El Filibusterismo. This second part of Noli Me Tangere is a more sullen work in which the principal character is no longer a promising young man and full of hope, but someone matured, resentful and bitter. In any case, Rizal’s qualities as a writer remained intact. So did the grip of censorship. It is a censorship that somehow endures in present day Spain but transformed into oblivion. Indeed, while the novels of Rizal are disseminated in English, in impeccable pocketbook editions which are sold by the thousands in the Philippines and English-speaking countries, these works in there original Spanish language turn out to be almost impossible to find.

From the political perspective, Rizal was a persecuted man. He was accused of supporting the independence movement and on his return to the archipelago, he had to live in exile for a long period of time in Dapitan, a small town on the island of Mindanao, where he practiced medicine.

The end is perhaps the most well known. Accused of treason because of his liberal activities, Jose Rizal is seized and taken to Barcelona. Upon his arrival there, an order is received to take him back to the Philippines. On December 30, 1896, Rizal is executed in Manila. Two years later, along with Cuba and all Spanish territories in the Pacific, the archipelago is turned over to American hands and Rizal becomes a national hero while the use of the Spanish language of which he was a true master, begins to decline.

Filipino students still learn by heart the poem Rizal wrote on the eve of his execution. Verses in Spanish that are hardly understood by the young, but are engraved in the collective spirit of the Filipino people, not only because of the patriotism of the poem but also the love for life that they emanate. Verses written during the modernist period and that remind us of Ruben Dario: “Adios patria adorada, region del sol…”

Over time, this anniversary is an opportune moment to pay Rizal literary and political tribute also in Spain. After all, aside from being the father of the modern Philippine nation, Rizal was a genuine Spanish intellectual during his time, persecuted and executed, not only for his pro-independence ideas but also, like the fate suffered by many peninsulares throughout the 19th Century, for being a free-thinker.

(CARLOS ALBERDI is Director for Cultural and Scientific Relations of the Spanish Agency for International Development Cooperation of the Spanish Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Cooperation.)

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The Embassy of Spain, in collaboration with Accion Cultural Española (AC/E) and the Metropolitan Museum of Manila is having the exhibition Photo a Photo. A Portrait of Spain, focusing on the 2 cities that Rizal lived in, Madrid and Barcelona. The exhibition, which formally opened yesterday, will be available for public viewing starting today until Jan. 14, 2012.