The Social Cancer - 01

The Social Cancer

A Complete English Version of Noli Me Tangere from the Spanish of
José Rizal
By
Charles Derbyshire

Manila
Philippine Education Company
New York: World Book Company
1912



THE NOVELS OF JOSÉ RIZAL
Translated from Spanish into English
BY CHARLES DERBYSHIRE

THE SOCIAL CANCER (NOLI ME TANGERE)
THE REIGN OF GREED (EL FILIBUSTERISMO)

Copyright, 1912, by Philippine Education Company.
Entered at Stationers' Hall.
Registrado en las Islas Filipinas.
All rights reserved.


TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION

I
"We travel rapidly in these historical sketches. The reader
flies in his express train in a few minutes through a couple
of centuries. The centuries pass more slowly to those to
whom the years are doled out day by day. Institutions grow
and beneficently develop themselves, making their way into
the hearts of generations which are shorter-lived than they,
attracting love and respect, and winning loyal obedience;
and then as gradually forfeiting by their shortcomings
the allegiance which had been honorably gained in worthier
periods. We see wealth and greatness; we see corruption and
vice; and one seems to follow so close upon the other, that we
fancy they must have always co-existed. We look more steadily,
and we perceive long periods of time, in which there is first
a growth and then a decay, like what we perceive in a tree
of the forest."
FROUDE, _Annals of an English Abbey_.

Monasticism's record in the Philippines presents no new general fact
to the eye of history. The attempt to eliminate the eternal feminine
from her natural and normal sphere in the scheme of things there met
with the same certain and signal disaster that awaits every perversion
of human activity. Beginning with a band of zealous, earnest men,
sincere in their convictions, to whom the cause was all and their
personalities nothing, it there, as elsewhere, passed through its
usual cycle of usefulness, stagnation, corruption, and degeneration.
To the unselfish and heroic efforts of the early friars Spain
in large measure owed her dominion over the Philippine Islands
and the Filipinos a marked advance on the road to civilization and
nationality. In fact, after the dreams of sudden wealth from gold and
spices had faded, the islands were retained chiefly as a missionary
conquest and a stepping-stone to the broader fields of Asia, with
Manila as a depot for the Oriental trade. The records of those early
years are filled with tales of courage and heroism worthy of Spain's
proudest years, as the missionary fathers labored with unflagging
zeal in disinterested endeavor for the spread of the Faith and the
betterment of the condition of the Malays among whom they found
themselves. They won the confidence of the native peoples, gathered
them into settlements and villages, led them into the ways of peace,
and became their protectors, guides, and counselors.
In those times the cross and the sword went hand in hand, but in the
Philippines the latter was rarely needed or used. The lightness and
vivacity of the Spanish character, with its strain of Orientalism,
its fertility of resource in meeting new conditions, its adaptability
in dealing with the dwellers in warmer lands, all played their part in
this as in the other conquests. Only on occasions when some stubborn
resistance was met with, as in Manila and the surrounding country,
where the most advanced of the native peoples dwelt and where some of
the forms and beliefs of Islam had been established, was it necessary
to resort to violence to destroy the native leaders and replace them
with the missionary fathers. A few sallies by young Salcedo, the Cortez
of the Philippine conquest, with a company of the splendid infantry,
which was at that time the admiration and despair of martial Europe,
soon effectively exorcised any idea of resistance that even the boldest
and most intransigent of the native leaders might have entertained.
For the most part, no great persuasion was needed to turn a simple,
imaginative, fatalistic people from a few vague animistic deities
to the systematic iconology and the elaborate ritual of the Spanish
Church. An obscure _Bathala_ or a dim _Malyari_ was easily superseded
by or transformed into a clearly defined _Diós_, and in the case of
any especially tenacious "demon," he could without much difficulty
be merged into a Christian saint or devil. There was no organized
priesthood to be overcome, the primitive religious observances
consisting almost entirely of occasional orgies presided over by
an old woman, who filled the priestly offices of interpreter for
the unseen powers and chief eater at the sacrificial feast. With
their unflagging zeal, their organization, their elaborate forms
and ceremonies, the missionaries were enabled to win the confidence
of the natives, especially as the greater part of them learned the
local language and identified their lives with the communities under
their care. Accordingly, the people took kindly to their new teachers
and rulers, so that in less than a generation Spanish authority was
generally recognized in the settled portions of the Philippines,
and in the succeeding years the missionaries gradually extended this
area by forming settlements from among the wilder peoples, whom they
persuaded to abandon the more objectionable features of their old
roving, often predatory, life and to group themselves into towns and
villages "under the bell."
The tactics employed in the conquest and the subsequent behavior of
the conquerors were true to the old Spanish nature, so succinctly
characterized by a plain-spoken Englishman of Mary's reign, when the
war-cry of Castile encircled the globe and even hovered ominously
near the "sceptered isle," when in the intoxication of power character
stands out so sharply defined: "They be verye wyse and politicke, and
can, thorowe ther wysdome, reform and brydell theyr owne natures for
a tyme, and applye ther conditions to the manners of those men with
whom they meddell gladlye by friendshippe; whose mischievous maners
a man shall never know untyll he come under ther subjection; but then
shall he parfectlye parceve and fele them: for in dissimulations untyll
they have ther purposes, and afterwards in oppression and tyrannye,
when they can obtain them, they do exceed all other nations upon the
earthe." [1]
In the working out of this spirit, with all the indomitable courage
and fanatical ardor derived from the long contests with the Moors,
they reduced the native peoples to submission, but still not to the
galling yoke which they fastened upon the aborigines of America, to
make one Las Casas shine amid the horde of Pizarros. There was some
compulsory labor in timber-cutting and ship-building, with enforced
military service as rowers and soldiers for expeditions to the Moluccas
and the coasts of Asia, but nowhere the unspeakable atrocities which
in Mexico, Hispaniola, and South America drove mothers to strangle
their babes at birth and whole tribes to prefer self-immolation to the
living death in the mines and slave-pens. Quite differently from the
case in America, where entire islands and districts were depopulated,
to bring on later the curse of negro slavery, in the Philippines
the fact appears that the native population really increased and
the standard of living was raised under the stern, yet beneficent,
tutelage of the missionary fathers. The great distance and the
hardships of the journey precluded the coming of many irresponsible
adventurers from Spain and, fortunately for the native population,
no great mineral wealth was ever discovered in the Philippine Islands.
The system of government was, in its essential features, a simple
one. The missionary priests drew the inhabitants of the towns
and villages about themselves or formed new settlements, and with
profuse use of symbol and symbolism taught the people the Faith,
laying particular stress upon "the fear of God," as administered by
them, reconciling the people to their subjection by inculcating the
Christian virtues of patience and humility. When any recalcitrants
refused to accept the new order, or later showed an inclination to
break away from it, the military forces, acting usually under secret
directions from the padre, made raids in the disaffected parts with
all the unpitying atrocity the Spanish soldiery were ever capable of
displaying in their dealings with a weaker people. After sufficient
punishment had been inflicted and a wholesome fear inspired, the padre
very opportunely interfered in the natives' behalf, by which means
they were convinced that peace and security lay in submission to the
authorities, especially to the curate of their town or district. A
single example will suffice to make the method clear: not an isolated
instance but a typical case chosen from among the mass of records
left by the chief actors themselves.
Fray Domingo Perez, evidently a man of courage and conviction, for he
later lost his life in the work of which he wrote, was the Dominican
vicar on the Zambales coast when that Order temporarily took over the
district from the Recollects. In a report written for his superior in
1680 he outlines the method clearly: "In order that those whom we have
assembled in the three villages may persevere in their settlements,
the most efficacious fear and the one most suited to their nature is
that the Spaniards of the fort and presidio of Paynaven [2] of whom
they have a very great fear, may come very often to the said villages
and overrun the land, and penetrate even into their old recesses where
they formerly lived; and if perchance they should find anything planted
in the said recesses that they would destroy it and cut it down without
leaving them anything. And so that they may see the father protects
them, when the said Spaniards come to the village, the father opposes
them and takes the part of the Indians. But it is always necessary
in this matter for the soldiers to conquer, and the father is always
very careful always to inform the Spaniards by whom and where anything
is planted which it may be necessary to destroy, and that the edicts
which his Lordship, the governor, sent them be carried out .... But
at all events said Spaniards are to make no trouble for the Indians
whom they find in the villages, but rather must treat them well." [3]
This in 1680: the Dominican transcriber of the record in 1906 has
added a very illuminating note, revealing the immutability of the
system and showing that the rulers possessed in a superlative degree
the Bourbonesque trait of learning nothing and forgetting nothing:
"Even when I was a missionary to the heathens from 1882 to 1892,
I had occasion to observe the said policy, to inform the chief of
the fortress of the measures that he ought to take, and to make a
false show on the other side so that it might have no influence on
the fortress."
Thus it stands out in bold relief as a system built up and maintained
by fraud and force, bound in the course of nature to last only as
long as the deception could be carried on and the repressive force
kept up to sufficient strength. Its maintenance required that the
different sections be isolated from each other so that there could
be no growth toward a common understanding and coöperation, and its
permanence depended upon keeping the people ignorant and contented with
their lot, held under strict control by religious and political fear.
Yet it was a vast improvement over their old mode of life and their
condition was bettered as they grew up to such a system. Only with
the passing of the years and the increase of wealth and influence,
the ease and luxury invited by these, and the consequent corruption so
induced, with the insatiable longing ever for more wealth and greater
influence, did the poison of greed and grasping power enter the system
to work its insidious way into every part, slowly transforming the
beneficent institution of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
into an incubus weighing upon all the activities of the people in
the nineteenth, an unyielding bar to the development of the country,
a hideous anachronism in these modern times.
It must be remembered also that Spain, in the years following her
brilliant conquests of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, lost
strength and vigor through the corruption at home induced by the
unearned wealth that flowed into the mother country from the colonies,
and by the draining away of her best blood. Nor did her sons ever
develop that economic spirit which is the permanent foundation of
all empire, but they let the wealth of the Indies flow through their
country, principally to London and Amsterdam, there to form in more
practical hands the basis of the British and Dutch colonial empires.
The priest and the soldier were supreme, so her best sons took up
either the cross or the sword to maintain her dominion in the distant
colonies, a movement which, long continued, spelled for her a form of
national suicide. The soldier expended his strength and generally laid
down his life on alien soil, leaving no fit successor of his own stock
to carry on the work according to his standards. The priest under the
celibate system, in its better days left no offspring at all and in
the days of its corruption none bred and reared under the influences
that make for social and political progress. The dark chambers of the
Inquisition stifled all advance in thought, so the civilization and
the culture of Spain, as well as her political system, settled into
rigid forms to await only the inevitable process of stagnation and
decay. In her proudest hour an old soldier, who had lost one of his
hands fighting her battles against the Turk at Lepanto, employed the
other in writing the masterpiece of her literature, which is really
a caricature of the nation.
There is much in the career of Spain that calls to mind the dazzling
beauty of her "dark-glancing daughters," with its early bloom, its
startling--almost morbid--brilliance, and its premature decay. Rapid
and brilliant was her rise, gradual and inglorious her steady decline,
from the bright morning when the banners of Castile and Aragon were
flung triumphantly from the battlements of the Alhambra, to the short
summer, not so long gone, when at Cavite and Santiago with swift,
decisive havoc the last ragged remnants of the once world-dominating
power were blown into space and time, to hover disembodied there, a
lesson and a warning to future generations. Whatever her final place in
the records of mankind, whether as the pioneer of modern civilization
or the buccaneer of the nations or, as would seem most likely, a
goodly mixture of both, she has at least--with the exception only
of her great mother, Rome--furnished the most instructive lessons in
political pathology yet recorded, and the advice to students of world
progress to familiarize themselves with her history is even more apt
today than when it first issued from the encyclopedic mind of Macaulay
nearly a century ago. Hardly had she reached the zenith of her power
when the disintegration began, and one by one her brilliant conquests
dropped away, to leave her alone in her faded splendor, with naught but
her vaunting pride left, another "Niobe of nations." In the countries
more in contact with the trend of civilization and more susceptible
to revolutionary influences from the mother country this separation
came from within, while in the remoter parts the archaic and outgrown
system dragged along until a stronger force from without destroyed it.
Nowhere was the crystallization of form and principle more pronounced
than in religious life, which fastened upon the mother country a
deadening weight that hampered all progress, and in the colonies,
notably in the Philippines, virtually converted her government into
a hagiarchy that had its face toward the past and either could not
or would not move with the current of the times. So, when "the shot
heard round the world," the declaration of humanity's right to be and
to become, in its all-encircling sweep, reached the lands controlled
by her it was coldly received and blindly rejected by the governing
powers, and there was left only the slower, subtler, but none the
less sure, process of working its way among the people to burst in
time in rebellion and the destruction of the conservative forces that
would repress it.
In the opening years of the nineteenth century the friar orders in the
Philippines had reached the apogee of their power and usefulness. Their
influence was everywhere felt and acknowledged, while the country
still prospered under the effects of the vigorous and progressive
administrations of Anda and Vargas in the preceding century. Native
levies had fought loyally under Spanish leadership against Dutch
and British invaders, or in suppressing local revolts among their
own people, which were always due to some specific grievance, never
directed definitely against the Spanish sovereignty. The Philippines
were shut off from contact with any country but Spain, and even this
communication was restricted and carefully guarded. There was an
elaborate central government which, however, hardly touched the life
of the native peoples, who were guided and governed by the parish
priests, each town being in a way an independent entity.
Of this halcyon period, just before the process of disintegration
began, there has fortunately been left a record which may be
characterized as the most notable Spanish literary production
relating to the Philippines, being the calm, sympathetic, judicial
account of one who had spent his manhood in the work there and who,
full of years and experience, sat down to tell the story of their
life. [4] In it there are no puerile whinings, no querulous curses
that tropical Malays do not order their lives as did the people of
the Spanish village where he may have been reared, no selfish laments
of ingratitude over blessings unasked and only imperfectly understood
by the natives, no fatuous self-deception as to the real conditions,
but a patient consideration of the difficulties encountered, the good
accomplished, and the unavoidable evils incident to any human work. The
country and the people, too, are described with the charming simplicity
of the eyes that see clearly, the brain that ponders deeply, and the
heart that beats sympathetically. Through all the pages of his account
runs the quiet strain of peace and contentment, of satisfaction with
the existing order, for he had looked upon the creation and saw that
it was good. There is "neither haste, nor hate, nor anger," but the
deliberate recital of the facts warmed and illumined by the geniality
of a soul to whom age and experience had brought, not a sour cynicism,
but the mellowing influence of a ripened philosophy. He was such
an old man as may fondly be imagined walking through the streets of
Parañaque in stately benignity amid the fear and respect of the brown
people over whom he watched.
But in all his chronicle there is no suggestion of anything more to
hope for, anything beyond. Beautiful as the picture is, it is that of
a system which had reached maturity: a condition of stagnation, not
of growth. In less than a decade, the terrific convulsions in European
politics made themselves felt even in the remote Philippines, and then
began the gradual drawing away of the people from their rulers--blind
gropings and erratic wanderings at first, but nevertheless persistent
and vigorous tendencies.
The first notable influence was the admission of representatives
for the Philippines into the Spanish Cortes under the revolutionary
governments and the abolition of the trade monopoly with Mexico. The
last galleon reached Manila in 1815, and soon foreign commercial
interests were permitted, in a restricted way, to enter the
country. Then with the separation of Mexico and the other American
colonies from Spain a more marked change was brought about in that
direct communication was established with the mother country, and
the absolutism of the hagiarchy first questioned by the numbers of
Peninsular Spaniards who entered the islands to trade, some even
to settle and rear families there. These also affected the native
population in the larger centers by the spread of their ideas, which
were not always in conformity with those that for several centuries
the friars had been inculcating into their wards. Moreover, there
was a not-inconsiderable portion of the population, sprung from the
friars themselves, who were eager to adopt the customs and ideas of
the Spanish immigrants.
The suppression of many of the monasteries in Spain in 1835 caused
a large influx of the disestablished monks into the Philippines in
search for a haven, and a home, thus bringing about a conflict with
the native clergy, who were displaced from their best holdings to
provide berths for the newcomers. At the same time, the increase of
education among the native priests brought the natural demand for
more equitable treatment by the Spanish friar, so insistent that it
even broke out into open rebellion in 1843 on the part of a young
Tagalog who thought himself aggrieved in this respect.
Thus the struggle went on, with stagnation above and some growth below,
so that the governors were ever getting further away from the governed,
and for such a movement there is in the course of nature but one
inevitable result, especially when outside influences are actively at
work penetrating the social system and making for better things. Among
these influences four cumulative ones may be noted: the spread of
journalism, the introduction of steamships into the Philippines,
the return of the Jesuits, and the opening of the Suez Canal.
The printing-press entered the islands with the conquest, but its use
had been strictly confined to religious works until about the middle of
the past century, when there was a sudden awakening and within a few
years five journals were being published. In 1848 appeared the first
regular newspaper of importance, _El Diario de Manila_, and about a
decade later the principal organ of the Spanish-Filipino population,
_El Comercio_, which, with varying vicissitudes, has continued down
to the present. While rigorously censored, both politically and
religiously, and accessible to only an infinitesimal portion of the
people, they still performed the service of letting a few rays of
light into the Cimmerian intellectual gloom of the time and place.
With the coming of steam navigation communication between the
different parts of the islands was facilitated and trade encouraged,
with all that such a change meant in the way of breaking up the old
isolation and tending to a common understanding. Spanish power, too,
was for the moment more firmly established, and Moro piracy in Luzon
and the Bisayan Islands, which had been so great a drawback to the
development of the country, was forever ended.
The return of the Jesuits produced two general results tending to
dissatisfaction with the existing order. To them was assigned the
missionary field of Mindanao, which meant the displacement of the
Recollect Fathers in the missions there, and for these other berths
had to be found. Again the native clergy were the losers in that they
had to give up their best parishes in Luzon, especially around Manila
and Cavite, so the breach was further widened and the soil sown with
discontent. But more far-reaching than this immediate result was
the educational movement inaugurated by the Jesuits. The native,
already feeling the vague impulses from without and stirred by the
growing restlessness of the times, here saw a new world open before
him. A considerable portion of the native population in the larger
centers, who had shared in the economic progress of the colony, were
enabled to look beyond their daily needs and to afford their children
an opportunity for study and advancement--a condition and a need met
by the Jesuits for a time.
With the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 communication with the
mother country became cheaper, quicker, surer, so that large numbers
of Spaniards, many of them in sympathy with the republican movements
at home, came to the Philippines in search of fortunes and generally
left half-caste families who had imbibed their ideas. Native boys
who had already felt the intoxication of such learning as the schools
of Manila afforded them began to dream of greater wonders in Spain,
now that the journey was possible for them. So began the definite
movements that led directly to the disintegration of the friar régime.
In the same year occurred the revolution in the mother country,
which had tired of the old corrupt despotism. Isabella II was driven
into exile and the country left to waver about uncertainly for several
years, passing through all the stages of government from red radicalism
to absolute conservatism, finally adjusting itself to the middle course
of constitutional monarchism. During the effervescent and ephemeral
republic there was sent to the Philippines a governor who set to work
to modify the old system and establish a government more in harmony
with modern ideas and more democratic in form. His changes were hailed
with delight by the growing class of Filipinos who were striving for
more consideration in their own country, and who, in their enthusiasm
and the intoxication of the moment, perhaps became more radical than
was safe under the conditions--surely too radical for their religious
guides watching and waiting behind the veil of the temple.
In January, 1872, an uprising occurred in the naval arsenal at Cavite,
with a Spanish non-commissioned officer as one of the leaders. From
the meager evidence now obtainable, this would seem to have been
purely a local mutiny over the service questions of pay and treatment,
but in it the friars saw their opportunity. It was blazoned forth,
with all the wild panic that was to characterize the actions of the
governing powers from that time on, as the premature outbreak of
a general insurrection under the leadership of the native clergy,
and rigorous repressive measures were demanded. Three native
priests, notable for their popularity among their own people, one an
octogenarian and the other two young canons of the Manila Cathedral,
were summarily garroted, along with the renegade Spanish officer
who had participated in the mutiny. No record of any trial of these
priests has ever been brought to light. The Archbishop, himself a
secular [5] clergyman, stoutly refused to degrade them from their
holy office, and they wore their sacerdotal robes at the execution,
which was conducted in a hurried, fearful manner. At the same time
a number of young Manilans who had taken conspicuous part in the
"liberal" demonstrations were deported to the Ladrone Islands or to
remote islands of the Philippine group itself.
This was the beginning of the end. Yet there immediately followed
the delusive calm which ever precedes the fatal outburst, lulling
those marked for destruction to a delusive security. The two decades
following were years of quiet, unobtrusive growth, during which
the Philippine Islands made the greatest economic progress in their
history. But this in itself was preparing the final catastrophe, for
if there be any fact well established in human experience it is that
with economic development the power of organized religion begins to
wane--the rise of the merchant spells the decline of the priest. A
sordid change, from masses and mysteries to sugar and shoes, this is