Guess who wrote this?

Rizal Calling Card[First posted December 29, 2013;

 reposting on the occasion

of the writer’s birth anniversary on June 19.   

Year of his birth? 1861;

year of his death? 1898, at age 35. 

What a waste of one of the most brilliant Filipinos

at the prime of his life!

Most heroes from other countries

were soldiers who fought wars;

not Rizal, his sword was his pen. 

Sayang indeed! —Admin1]

 

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“Through reasoning and by necessity, rather than faith, do I firmly believe in the existence of a creative Being. Who is he? I do not know. 

 

What human sounds, what accents are we to use in pronouncing the name of this Being whose works overwhelm the imagination? Can anyone give him an adequate name. . . We call him Dios but this only comes from the Latin deus and ultimately from the Greek Zeus. What kind of being is he? 

 

I would attribute to him, to an infinite degree, all the beautiful and holy qualities my mind can think of, but the fear of my ignorance constrains me. . . Even so I venture to think of him as infinitely wise, mighty, good. . . when I behold the wonders of his works, the order that reigns over the universe, the magnificence and expanse of creation, and the goodness that shines in all. . .The thought of him humbles me and sends my mind reeling; and whenever my reason rises to reach this Being, who created planets, suns, worlds and galaxies without number, it falls back stunned, puzzled and crushed. Fear overcomes me and I rather remain silent. . .

 

Filled by this vague but irresistible sentiment in face of the inconceivable, the superhuman, the infinite, I leave this study to brighter intelligences and hold in abeyance what the religions have to say. Unable to pass judgment on what surpasses my powers, I settle for studying God in his creatures like myself and in the voice of my conscience, which only can have come from him. 

 

I strive to read and find his will in all the surrounds me and in the mysterious sentiment speaking from within me, which I strive to purify above all else. The various religions claim to have God’s will condensed and written in books and dogmas; but apart from the many contradictions, conflicting interpretations of words and many obscure and untenable points I find in them, my conscience, my reason cannot admit that he, who like a wise father had provided his creatures with everything necessary for this life, proceeded to bury what was necessary for eternal life in the obscurities of language unknown to the rest of the world and hide it behind metaphors and deeds that go against the very laws of nature. .

 

But I do not mean by this that I completely disregard what the sacred books, religious precepts and religious dogmas have to say. On the contrary these books are, in the final analysis, the insights of men and whole generations put down in writing. . . When there arises a conflict among them, I decide in favor of that which most conforms with nature’s law because for me nature is the only divine book of unquestionable legitimacy, the sole manifestation of the Creator that we have here in this life – clear, perennial, living, powerful, capable of overcoming our blunders and errors, incorruptible, one that cannot play false in spite of human caprice, with its laws constant and unchangeable in all places and for all times.”

 

 

Dr. Jose P. Rizal,

Philippine National Hero

 

 

[Source:  Father Raul J. Bonoan, S.J.  The Rizal-Pastells Correspondence, the Hitherto Unpublished Letters of Jose Rizal and Portions of Fr. Pablo Pastells Fourth Letter and Translation of the Correspondence, together with a Historical Background and Theological Critique. (1994)]

Image from brokenarrowlove.wordpress.com

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“I go where there are no slaves,

hangmen or oppressors;

Where faith does not kill;

where the one who reigns is God.” 

 

Mi Ultimo Adios” st. 13 – poem written on the eve of his execution

(29 December 1896) 

 

 

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Collage: The World of 1898: The Spanish American War

“The war of the United States with Spain was very brief.

Its results were many, startling, and of world-wide meaning.”
–Henry Cabot Lodge

Hispanic Division, Library of Congress

From :  http://www.loc.gov/rr/hispanic/1898/rizal.html

José Rizal  1861-1896

 

 

José Rizal, son of a Filipino father and a Chinese mother, came from a wealthy family. Despite his family’s wealth, they suffered discrimination because neither parent was born in the peninsula. Rizal studied at the Ateneo, a private high school, and then to the University of St. Thomas in Manila. He did his post graduate work at the University of Madrid in 1882. For the next five years, he wandered through Europe discussing politics wherever he went. In 1886, he studied medicine at the University of Heidelberg and wrote his classic novel Noli me Tangere, which condemned the Catholic Church in the Philippines for its promotion of Spanish colonialism. Immediately upon its publication, he became a target for the police who even shadowed him when he returned to the Philippines in 1887. He left his country shortly thereafter to return to Spain where he wrote a second novel, El Filibusterismo (1891), and many articles in his support of Filipino nationalism and his crusade to include representatives from his homeland in the Spanish Cortes.

He returned to Manila in 1892 and created the Liga Filipina, a political group that called for peace change for the islands. Nevertheless, Spanish officials were displeased and exiled Rizal to the island of Mindanao. During his four years there, he practiced medicine, taught students, and collected local examples of flora and fauna while recording his discoveries. Even though he lost touched with others who were working for Filipino independence, he quickly denounced the movement when it became violent and revolutionary. After Andrés Bonifacio issued the Grito de Balintawak in 1896, Rizal was arrested, convicted of sedition, and executed by firing squad on December 30, 1896.

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Update June 19, 2019: This appeared in a FaceBook page so we’re adding it to this already lengthy post but why not, there are lessons to be learned from the martyrdom of good and noble men:

Image may contain: 3 people, people standing and outdoor

Tao of Malayang Anyo is with Antonio P. Contreras and 2 others.- – – December 30, 2018 · 

 

“I SAW RIZAL DIE”

[There is one eyewitness to Rizal’s execution whose observation was told to a journalist in 1949, or 53 years after the event. A man named Hilarion Martinez, then 72 years old, relayed to Alberto Mendoza of the Sunday Times Magazine what he witnessed during Rizal’s execution.]

In 1896, a then 20-year old Martinez was a member of the Leales Voluntarios de Manila (Loyal Volunteers of Manila) and was assigned to the drum corps. Martinez and his fellow drum corps members accompanied the condemned man from the time he left Fort Santiago until he reached Bagumbayan. Because of his role in the drum corps, it is said that he occupied a good vantage point from which to observe the execution. Martinez’ complete account is reproduced below:

 

“It was six o’clock in the morning of December 30, 1896, when we woke up at our quarters at the corner of Sta. Potenciana and Magallanes Streets, in Intramuros, to attend the execution of Jose Rizal, about which we had been briefed the day before. We were in the Leales Voluntarios de Manila, a semi-military organization under the command of Capt. Manuel Leaño. Our immediate officer was a youthful Spanish lieutenant named Juan Pereira. I was twenty years old then, and a member of the drum corps.

 

“We marched out of Intramuros through the Puerta Real, or where Nozaleda (now General Luna) Street out through the walls on the south, clad in our cañamo uniforms and with our cajas vivas strapped around our waists. We proceeded to what is now Padre Burgos Street, under an overcast sky and a biting December morn.

 

“Bagumbayan is not the Luneta now. The waters of Manila Bay still reached the other side of Malecon Drive (now Bonifacio Drive) where the new Luneta is located. The Luneta of those days was as far back as the site of the old Bagumbayan police station, near which lush bamboo thickets grew.

 

“As we rounded the corner of P. Burgos and General Luna Streets, we got a glimpse of the cuadro, a square formation of about ten companies of Filipino and Spanish soldiers. The former occupied the inner portion of the quadrangle, while the latter were at the rear. This formation was strategic because the Filipino soldiers’ position within the cuadro signified that the Spanish authorities wanted Rizal to die in the hands of the Filipino soldiers. If the latter disobeyed the command to fire upon Rizal, the Spanish soldiers positioned at the rear would fire upon them.

“There were civilian spectators, too. The side of the cuadro near the bay was open.

 

“As we approached the quadrangle, we saw some Spanish military officers earnestly talking in low voices. Rizal was nowhere to be seen – yet. Not having had a glimpse of the man before, I began to wonder what he looked like. I remembered how my mother told me Rizal was so learned, nobody could poison him as he always carried with him his own spoon and fork with which he could detect whether his food was poisoned or not. I heard too, of his fighting for our (Filipino) cause aside from legends that were beginning to be woven around him.

 

“Soon the small crowd heard the muffle sound of our approaching vivas draped with black cloth during execution ceremonies. A slight commotion broke out at the right end of the cuadro near the bay as some soldiers with fixed bayonets entered followed by a man in black, his arms tied at the elbows from the back, on his head, a derby hat or chistera, on his sides, a Spanish officer and a Jesuit priest.

 

“When I saw the man, I knew he was Rizal.

“A group of Spanish officers who were standing nearby opened into a semicircular formation or media luna. Then a Spaniard (we would learn later he was Lt. Luis Andrade, one of Rizal’s popular Spanish defenders and sympathizers) affectionately shook the latter’s hand. When Rizal was near the center of the quadrangle, the mayor de la plaza, a colonel, announced at the bandillo: “En el nombre del Rey, el que se levante la voz a favor del reo sera ejecutado.” (In the name of the King, he who raises his voice in favor of the criminal will be executed.)

 

“A deep silence enshrouded the whole assembly.

“We in the drum corps were about seven paces behind Rizal who then faced the bay. Our commanding officer approached us and told us should Rizal attempt to speak aloud, we should beat our drums hard to drown out his voice. I looked at Rizal. He was of regular build, unshaven, quite pale, perhaps as a result of his confinement but he was visibly composed and serene. A Jesuit approached him, said a prayer and blessed him. Then a colonel approached him too, as our commanding officer ordered us to move two paces backwards, and the firing squad of six Filipinos came forward and took our former position behind Rizal. With visible effort, Rizal raised his right hand which was tied and took off his chistera or derby hat. My heart beat fast, as in all other executions I had witnessed before, I felt tense and nervous. Amidst the silence, Rizal moved his head very slowly up and down, his lips moving as if in prayer.

 

“Then the commanding officer by means of his saber, signaled the firing squad to aim. Then the saber dropped and there was a simultaneous crack of rifle fire that shattered the stillness of the morning. Jose Rizal wheeled in one last effort and toppled forward with a thud, his face towards the sky and his derby hat thrown ahead. He had fallen in the direction of the bay.

 

“Many of the reos [condemned criminals] had been caused to kneel and be hoodwinked before they were shot on the head. But Rizal was spared that humiliation.

 

“Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a small dog appeared and ran in circles around Rizal’s fallen body, barking and whimpering. This incident would much later be the subject of our talk in our quarters. Some of my comrades were quick to conclude that it was a premonition of a coming misfortune.

“Then the capitan militar de la sanidad (medical officer) stepped forward, knelt before the fallen man, and felt his pulse. Looking up, he beckoned to a member of the firing squad to come forward and give the final tiro de gracia, another shot done at close range. I thought I saw a faint haze rise from Rizal’s coat, but it might be a wisp of the morning mist. Seeing the body before me, I felt weak.

 

“The officers began to show animation again. They fell in formation and marched to the tune of the Spanish national air, the Paso Doble Marcha de Cadiz.

 

“As was customary in past executions, we filed past the body to view it for the last time. When we were commanded ‘eyes left,’ I did not shut my eyes as I did at the sight of the several reos whose heads were blown off by rifle fire. I wanted to see the face of the man for one last time. Rizal lay dead on the dewy grass. The day had started and I realized that I was gazing on the face of the great Malayan; that I was witnessing history in the making.”

 

[Source: Alberto Mendoza, “I saw Rizal Die,” Sunday Times Magazine 29 December 1949, pp. 10-11.]

*Original post by Emil Justimbaste

Image from www.photoworldmanila.com

 

Following the revolution, Rizal was made a saint by many religious cults while the United States authorities seized on his non-violent stance and emphasized his views on Filipino nationalism rather than those of the more action-oriented Emilio Aguinaldo and Andrés Bonifacio.

 

And when my grave by all is no more remembered,
With neither cross nor stone to mark its place,
Let it be ploughed by man,  
with spade let it be scattered

And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored,
Let them turn to dust to cover thy earthly space.

. . . Farewell to all I love; to die is to rest.

 

Image from www.gov.ph

     “Mi Último Adiós”
Adios, Patria adorada, region del sol querida,
Perla del Mar de Oriente, nuestro perdido eden,
A darte voy alegre, la triste, mustia vida;
Ya fuera mas brillante, mas fresca mas florida,
También por ti la diera, la diera por tu bien.

En campos de batalla, luchando, con delirio,
Otros te dan sus vidas, sin dudas, sin pesar.
El sitio nada importa: ciprés, laurel o lirio,
Cadalso o campo abierto combate o cruel martirio,
Lo mismo es si lo piden la Patria y el hogar.

Yo muero, cuando veo que el cielo se colora
Y al fin anuncia el día, tras lóbrego capuz;
Si grana necesitas, para teñir tu aurora,
Vierte la sangre mia, derramala en buen hora,
Y dorela un reflejo de su naciente luz!

Mis sueños, cuando apenas muchacho adolescente,
Mis sueños cuando joven, ya lleno de vigor,
Fueron el verte un dia, joya del mar de Oriente,
Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente,
Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor.

Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo,
¡Salud! te grita el alma, que pronto va a partir;
¡Salud! ah, que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo,
Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo,
Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir!

Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar, un dia,
Entre la espesa yerba sencilla humilde flor,
Acercala a tus labios y besa al alma mia,
Y sienta yo en mi frente, bajo la tumba fria,
De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor.

Deja a la luna verme, con luz tranquila y suave,
Deja que el elba envie su resplandor fugas;
Deja gemir al viento, con su murmullo grave;
Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave,
Deja que el ave entone su cántico de paz.

Deja que el sol, ardiendo, las lluvias evapore,
Y al cielo tornen puras, con mi clamor en pos;
Deja que un ser amigo mi fin temprano llore;
Y en las serenas tardes, cuando por mi alguien ore,
Ora también, ¡oh Patria!, por mi descanso a Dios.

Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura;
Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual;
Por nuestras pobres madres, que gimen su amargura;
Por huerfanos y viudas, por presos entortura;
Y ora por ti, que veas tu redención final.

Y cuando, en noche oscura, se envuela el cementerio,
Y solos solo muertos queden velando alli,
No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio;
Tal ves acordes oigas de citara o salterio;
Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto a ti.

Y cuando ya mi tumba, de todas olvidada,
No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar,
Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada,
Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a la nada,
El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan a formar.

Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido,
Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré;
Vibrante y limpia nota sere para tu oido;
Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido,
Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fe.

Mi Patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores,
Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adois.
Ahi, te dejo todo: mis padres, mis amores.
Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores;
Donde la fe no mata, donde el que reina es Dios.

Adios, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mia,
Amigos de la infrancia, en el perdido hogar;
Dal gracias, que descanso del fatigoso dia;
Adios, dulce extranjera, mi amiga, mi alegria;
Adios, queridos seres. Morir es descansar.

 

Jose Rizal

Spanish (Original Version)

 

[“Then the immortal Ultimo Adios, which schoolboys are made to believe as written on the eve of his execution, might have been written 12 or 6 days before.  Indeed it’s more reasonable to believe now that the verses came with a longer contemplation than legend allows.”— Update from Ambeth Ocampo, RIZAL WITHOUT THE OVERCOAT]

Image from www.hollandamericablog.com

Image from www.hollandamericablog.com

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