The Social Cancer - 02

often said to be, but it should be noted that the epochs of greatest
economic activity have been those during which the generality of
mankind have lived fuller and freer lives, and above all that in such
eras the finest intellects and the grandest souls have been developed.
Nor does an institution that has been slowly growing for three
centuries, molding the very life and fiber of the people, disintegrate
without a violent struggle, either in its own constitution or in the
life of the people trained under it. Not only the ecclesiastical but
also the social and political system of the country was controlled by
the religious orders, often silently and secretly, but none the less
effectively. This is evident from the ceaseless conflict that went on
between the religious orders and the Spanish political administrators,
who were at every turn thwarted in their efforts to keep the government
abreast of the times.
The shock of the affair of 1872 had apparently stunned the Filipinos,
but it had at the same time brought them to the parting of the ways and
induced a vague feeling that there was something radically wrong, which
could only be righted by a closer union among themselves. They began
to consider that their interests and those of the governing powers were
not the same. In these feelings of distrust toward the friars they were
stimulated by the great numbers of immigrant Spaniards who were then
entering the country, many of whom had taken part in the republican
movements at home and who, upon the restoration of the monarchy,
no doubt thought it safer for them to be at as great a distance as
possible from the throne. The young Filipinos studying in Spain came
from different parts of the islands, and by their association there
in a foreign land were learning to forget their narrow sectionalism;
hence the way was being prepared for some concerted action. Thus,
aided and encouraged by the anti-clerical Spaniards in the mother
country, there was growing up a new generation of native leaders,
who looked toward something better than the old system.
It is with this period in the history of the country--the author's
boyhood--that the story of _Noli Me Tangere_ deals. Typical scenes and
characters are sketched from life with wonderful accuracy, and the
picture presented is that of a master-mind, who knew and loved his
subject. Terror and repression were the order of the day, with ever
a growing unrest in the higher circles, while the native population
at large seemed to be completely _cowed_--"brutalized" is the term
repeatedly used by Rizal in his political essays. Spanish writers of
the period, observing only the superficial movements,--some of which
were indeed fantastical enough, for

"they,
Who in oppression's darkness caved have dwelt,
They are not eagles, nourished with the day;
What marvel, then, at times, if they mistake their way?"

--and not heeding the currents at work below, take great delight in
ridiculing the pretensions of the young men seeking advancement,
while they indulge in coarse ribaldry over the wretched condition
of the great mass of the "Indians." The author, however, himself a
"miserable Indian," vividly depicts the unnatural conditions and
dominant characters produced under the outworn system of fraud and
force, at the same time presenting his people as living, feeling,
struggling individuals, with all the frailties of human nature and all
the possibilities of mankind, either for good or evil; incidentally
he throws into marked contrast the despicable depreciation used by
the Spanish writers in referring to the Filipinos, making clear the
application of the self-evident proposition that no ordinary human
being in the presence of superior force can very well conduct himself
as a man unless he be treated as such.
The friar orders, deluded by their transient triumph and secure in
their pride of place, became more arrogant, more domineering than
ever. In the general administration the political rulers were at every
turn thwarted, their best efforts frustrated, and if they ventured
too far their own security threatened; for in the three-cornered
wrangle which lasted throughout the whole of the Spanish domination,
the friar orders had, in addition to the strength derived from their
organization and their wealth, the Damoclean weapon of control over the
natives to hang above the heads of both governor and archbishop. The
curates in the towns, always the real rulers, became veritable despots,
so that no voice dared to raise itself against them, even in the midst
of conditions which the humblest _indio_ was beginning to feel dumbly
to be perverted and unnatural, and that, too, after three centuries
of training under the system that he had ever been taught to accept as
"the will of God."
The friars seemed long since to have forgotten those noble aims
that had meant so much to the founders and early workers of their
orders, if indeed the great majority of those of the later day had
ever realized the meaning of their office, for the Spanish writers of
the time delight in characterizing them as the meanest of the Spanish
peasantry, when not something worse, who had been "lassoed," taught a
few ritualistic prayers, and shipped to the Philippines to be placed
in isolated towns as lords and masters of the native population, with
all the power and prestige over a docile people that the sacredness of
their holy office gave them. These writers treat the matter lightly,
seeing in it rather a huge joke on the "miserable Indians," and
give the friars great credit for "patriotism," a term which in this
connection they dragged from depth to depth until it quite aptly fitted
Dr. Johnson's famous definition, "the last refuge of a scoundrel."
In their conduct the religious corporations, both as societies and as
individuals, must be estimated according to their own standards--the
application of any other criterion would be palpably unfair. They
undertook to hold the native in subjection, to regulate the essential
activities of his life according to their ideas, so upon them
must fall the responsibility for the conditions finally attained:
to destroy the freedom of the subject and then attempt to blame him
for his conduct is a paradox into which the learned men often fell,
perhaps inadvertently through their deductive logic. They endeavored
to shape the lives of their Malay wards not only in this existence
but also in the next. Their vows were poverty, chastity, and obedience.
The vow of poverty was early relegated to the limbo of neglect. Only a
few years after the founding of Manila royal decrees began to issue on
the subject of complaints received by the King over the usurpation of
lands on the part of the priests. Using the same methods so familiar in
the heyday of the institution of monasticism in Europe--pious gifts,
deathbed bequests, pilgrims' offerings--the friar orders gradually
secured the richest of the arable lands in the more thickly settled
portions of the Philippines, notably the part of Luzon occupied by
the Tagalogs. Not always, however, it must in justice be recorded,
were such doubtful means resorted to, for there were instances where
the missionary was the pioneer, gathering about himself a band of
devoted natives and plunging into the unsettled parts to build up
a town with its fields around it, which would later become a friar
estate. With the accumulated incomes from these estates and the fees
for religious observances that poured into their treasuries, the
orders in their nature of perpetual corporations became the masters of
the situation, the lords of the country. But this condition was not
altogether objectionable; it was in the excess of their greed that
they went astray, for the native peoples had been living under this
system through generations and not until they began to feel that they
were not receiving fair treatment did they question the authority of
a power which not only secured them a peaceful existence in this life
but also assured them eternal felicity in the next.
With only the shining exceptions that are produced in any system, no
matter how false its premises or how decadent it may become, to uphold
faith in the intrinsic soundness of human nature, the vow of chastity
was never much more than a myth. Through the tremendous influence
exerted over a fanatically religious people, who implicitly followed
the teachings of the reverend fathers, once their confidence had
been secured, the curate was seldom to be gainsaid in his desires. By
means of the secret influence in the confessional and the more open
political power wielded by him, the fairest was his to command,
and the favored one and her people looked upon the choice more as an
honor than otherwise, for besides the social standing that it gave her
there was the proud prospect of becoming the mother of children who
could claim kinship with the dominant race. The curate's "companion"
or the sacristan's wife was a power in the community, her family was
raised to a place of importance and influence among their own people,
while she and her ecclesiastical offspring were well cared for. On
the death or removal of the curate, it was almost invariably found
that she had been provided with a husband or protector and a not
inconsiderable amount of property--an arrangement rather appealing
to a people among whom the means of living have ever been so insecure.
That this practise was not particularly offensive to the people among
whom they dwelt may explain the situation, but to claim that it excuses
the friars approaches dangerously close to casuistry. Still, as long as
this arrangement was decently and moderately carried out, there seems
to have been no great objection, nor from a worldly point of view,
with all the conditions considered, could there be much. But the old
story of excess, of unbridled power turned toward bad ends, again
recurs, at the same time that the ideas brought in by the Spaniards
who came each year in increasing numbers and the principles observed
by the young men studying in Europe cast doubt upon the fitness of
such a state of affairs. As they approached their downfall, like all
mankind, the friars became more open, more insolent, more shameless,
in their conduct.
The story of Maria Clara, as told in _Noli Me Tangere_, is by no means
an exaggerated instance, but rather one of the few clean enough to
bear the light, and her fate, as depicted in the epilogue, is said
to be based upon an actual occurrence with which the author must have
been familiar.
The vow of obedience--whether considered as to the Pope, their
highest religious authority, or to the King of Spain, their political
liege--might not always be so callously disregarded, but it could be
evaded and defied. From the Vatican came bull after bull, from the
Escorial decree after decree, only to be archived in Manila, sometimes
after a hollow pretense of compliance. A large part of the records of
Spanish domination is taken up with the wearisome quarrels that went
on between the Archbishop, representing the head of the Church, and
the friar orders, over the questions of the episcopal visitation and
the enforcement of the provisions of the Council of Trent relegating
the monks to their original status of missionaries, with the friars
invariably victorious in their contentions. Royal decrees ordering
inquiries into the titles to the estates of the men of poverty and
those providing for the education of the natives in Spanish were
merely sneered at and left to molder in harmless quiet. Not without
good grounds for his contention, the friar claimed that the Spanish
dominion over the Philippines depended upon him, and he therefore
confidently set himself up as the best judge of how that dominion
should be maintained.
Thus there are presented in the Philippines of the closing quarter of
the century just past the phenomena so frequently met with in modern
societies, so disheartening to the people who must drag out their lives
under them, of an old system which has outworn its usefulness and is
being called into question, with forces actively at work disintegrating
it, yet with the unhappy folk bred and reared under it unprepared for
a new order of things. The old faith was breaking down, its forms
and beliefs, once so full of life and meaning, were being sharply
examined, doubt and suspicion were the order of the day. Moreover,
it must ever be borne in mind that in the Philippines this unrest,
except in the parts where the friars were the landlords, was not
general among the people, the masses of whom were still sunk in their
"loved Egyptian night," but affected only a very small proportion of
the population--for the most part young men who were groping their
way toward something better, yet without any very clearly conceived
idea of what that better might be, and among whom was to be found the
usual sprinkling of "sunshine patriots" and omnipresent opportunists
ready for any kind of trouble that will afford them a chance to rise.
Add to the apathy of the masses dragging out their vacant lives amid
the shadows of religious superstition and to the unrest of the few,
the fact that the orders were in absolute control of the political
machinery of the country, with the best part of the agrarian wealth
amortized in their hands; add also the ever-present jealousies, petty
feuds, and racial hatreds, for which Manila and the Philippines,
with their medley of creeds and races, offer such a fertile field,
all fostered by the governing class for the maintenance of the old
Machiavelian principle of "divide and rule," and the sum is about
the most miserable condition under which any portion of mankind ever
tried to fulfill nature's inexorable laws of growth.


II

And third came she who gives dark creeds their power,
Silabbat-paramasa, sorceress,
Draped fair in many lands as lowly Faith,
But ever juggling souls with rites and prayers;
The keeper of those keys which lock up Hells
And open Heavens. "Wilt thou dare," she said,
"Put by our sacred books, dethrone our gods,
Unpeople all the temples, shaking down
That law which feeds the priests and props the realm?"
But Buddha answered, "What thou bidd'st me keep
Is form which passes, but the free Truth stands;
Get thee unto thy darkness."
SIR EDWIN ARNOLD, _The Light of Asia_.

"Ah, simple people, how little do you know the blessing that you
enjoy! Neither hunger, nor nakedness, nor inclemency of the weather
troubles you. With the payment of seven reals per year, you remain free
of contributions. You do not have to close your houses with bolts. You
do not fear that the district troopers will come in to lay waste your
fields, and trample you under foot at your own firesides. You call
'father' the one who is in command over you. Perhaps there will come
a time when you will be more civilized, and you will break out in
revolution; and you will wake terrified, at the tumult of the riots,
and will see blood flowing through these quiet fields, and gallows
and guillotines erected in these squares, which never yet have seen an
execution." [6] Thus moralized a Spanish traveler in 1842, just as that
_dolce far niente_ was drawing to its close. Already far-seeing men had
begun to raise in the Spanish parliament the question of the future of
the Philippines, looking toward some definite program for their care
under modern conditions and for the adjustment of their relations with
the mother country. But these were mere Cassandra-voices--the horologe
of time was striking for Rome's successor, as it did for Rome herself.
Just where will come the outbreak after three centuries of
mind-repression and soul-distortion, of forcing a growing subject
into the strait-jacket of medieval thought and action, of natural
selection reversed by the constant elimination of native initiative and
leadership, is indeed a curious study. That there will be an outbreak
somewhere is as certain as that the plant will grow toward the light,
even under the most unfavorable conditions, for man's nature is but
the resultant of eternal forces that ceaselessly and irresistibly
interplay about and upon him, and somewhere this resultant will
express itself in thought or deed.
After three centuries of Spanish ecclesiastical domination in the
Philippines, it was to be expected that the wards would turn against
their mentors the methods that had been used upon them, nor is it
especially remarkable that there was a decided tendency in some parts
to revert to primitive barbarism, but that concurrently a creative
genius--a bard or seer--should have been developed among a people
who, as a whole, have hardly passed through the clan or village
stage of society, can be regarded as little less than a psychological
phenomenon, and provokes the perhaps presumptuous inquiry as to whether
there may not be some things about our common human nature that the
learned doctors have not yet included in their anthropometric diagrams.
On the western shore of the Lake of Bay in the heart of the Philippines
clusters the village of Kalamba, first established by the Jesuit
Fathers in the early days of the conquest, and upon their expulsion
in 1767 taken over by the Crown, which later transferred it to the
Dominicans, under whose care the fertile fields about it became one
of the richest of the friar estates. It can hardly be called a town,
even for the Philippines, but is rather a market-village, set as it
is at the outlet of the rich country of northern Batangas on the
open waterway to Manila and the outside world. Around it flourish
the green rice-fields, while Mount Makiling towers majestically near
in her moods of cloud and sunshine, overlooking the picturesque
curve of the shore and the rippling waters of the lake. Shadowy
to the eastward gleam the purple crests of Banahao and Cristobal,
and but a few miles to the southwestward dim-thundering, seething,
earth-rocking Taal mutters and moans of the world's birth-throes. It
is the center of a region rich in native lore and legend, as it sleeps
through the dusty noons when the cacao leaves droop with the heat and
dreams through the silvery nights, waking twice or thrice a week to
the endless babble and ceaseless chatter of an Oriental market where
the noisy throngs make of their trading as much a matter of pleasure
and recreation as of business.
Directly opposite this market-place, in a house facing the village
church, there was born in 1861 into the already large family of one
of the more prosperous tenants on the Dominican estate a boy who was
to combine in his person the finest traits of the Oriental character
with the best that Spanish and European culture could add, on whom
would fall the burden of his people's woes to lead him over the _via
dolorosa_ of struggle and sacrifice, ending in his own destruction
amid the crumbling ruins of the system whose disintegration he himself
had done so much to compass.
José Rizal-Mercado y Alonso, as his name emerges from the confusion
of Filipino nomenclature, was of Malay extraction, with some distant
strains of Spanish and Chinese blood. His genealogy reveals several
persons remarkable for intellect and independence of character, notably
a Philippine Eloise and Abelard, who, drawn together by their common
enthusiasm for study and learning, became his maternal grandparents, as
well as a great-uncle who was a traveler and student and who directed
the boy's early studies. Thus from the beginning his training was
exceptional, while his mind was stirred by the trouble already brewing
in his community, and from the earliest hours of consciousness he saw
about him the wrongs and injustices which overgrown power will ever
develop in dealing with a weaker subject. One fact of his childhood,
too, stands out clearly, well worthy of record: his mother seems to
have been a woman of more than ordinary education for the time and
place, and, pleased with the boy's quick intelligence, she taught him
to read Spanish from a copy of the Vulgate in that language, which
she had somehow managed to secure and keep in her possession--the
old, old story of the Woman and the Book, repeated often enough under
strange circumstances, but under none stranger than these. The boy's
father was well-to-do, so he was sent at the age of eight to study
in the new Jesuit school in Manila, not however before he had already
inspired some awe in his simple neighbors by the facility with which
he composed verses in his native tongue.
He began his studies in a private house while waiting for an
opportunity to enter the Ateneo, as the Jesuit school is called,
and while there he saw one of his tutors, Padre Burgos, haled to
an ignominious death on the garrote as a result of the affair of
1872. This made a deep impression on his childish mind and, in fact,
seems to have been one of the principal factors in molding his ideas
and shaping his career. That the effect upon him was lasting and that
his later judgment confirmed him in the belief that a great injustice
had been done, are shown by the fact that his second important work,
_El Filibusterismo_, written about 1891, and miscalled by himself a
"novel," for it is really a series of word-paintings constituting a
terrific arraignment of the whole régime, was dedicated to the three
priests executed in 1872, in these words: "Religion, in refusing
to degrade you, has placed in doubt the crime imputed to you; the
government, in surrounding your case with mystery and shadow, gives
reason for belief in some error, committed in fatal moments; and all
the Philippines, in venerating your memory and calling you martyrs,
in no way acknowledges your guilt." The only answer he ever received
to this was eight Remington bullets fired into his back.
In the Ateneo he quickly attracted attention and became a general
favorite by his application to his studies, the poetic fervor with
which he entered into all the exercises of religious devotion, and
the gentleness of his character. He was from the first considered
"peculiar," for so the common mind regards everything that fails to fit
the old formulas, being of a rather dreamy and reticent disposition,
more inclined to reading Spanish romances than joining in the games of
his schoolmates. And of all the literatures that could be placed in
the hands of an imaginative child, what one would be more productive
in a receptive mind of a fervid love of life and home and country and
all that men hold dear, than that of the musical language of Castile,
with its high coloring and passionate character?
His activities were varied, for, in addition to his regular studies,
he demonstrated considerable skill in wood-carving and wax-modeling,
and during this period won several prizes for poetical compositions
in Spanish, which, while sometimes juvenile in form and following
closely after Spanish models, reveal at times flashes of thought and
turns of expression that show distinct originality; even in these
early compositions there is that plaintive undertone, that minor
chord of sadness, which pervades all his poems, reaching its fullest
measure of pathos in the verses written in his death-cell. He received
a bachelor's degree according to the Spanish system in 1877, but
continued advanced studies in agriculture at the Ateneo, at the same
time that he was pursuing the course in philosophy in the Dominican
University of Santo Tomas, where in 1879 he startled the learned
doctors by a reference in a prize poem to the Philippines as his
"patria," fatherland. This political heresy on the part of a native
of the islands was given no very serious attention at the time, being
looked upon as the vagary of a schoolboy, but again in the following
year, by what seems a strange fatality, he stirred the resentment of
the friars, especially the Dominicans, by winning over some of their
number the first prize in a literary contest celebrated in honor of
the author of _Don Quixote_.
The archaic instruction in Santo Tomas soon disgusted him and led to
disagreements with the instructors, and he turned to Spain. Plans
for his journey and his stay there had to be made with the utmost
caution, for it would hardly have fared well with his family had
it become known that the son of a tenant on an estate which was a
part of the University endowment was studying in Europe. He reached
Spanish territory first in Barcelona, the hotbed of radicalism,
where he heard a good deal of revolutionary talk, which, however,
seems to have made but little impression upon him, for throughout
his entire career breadth of thought and strength of character are
revealed in his consistent opposition to all forms of violence.
In Madrid he pursued the courses in medicine and philosophy, but a
fact of even more consequence than his proficiency in his regular
work was his persistent study of languages and his omnivorous
reading. He was associated with the other Filipinos who were working
in a somewhat spectacular way, misdirected rather than led by what
may be styled the Spanish liberals, for more considerate treatment of
the Philippines. But while he was among them he was not of them, as
his studious habits and reticent disposition would hardly have made
him a favorite among those who were enjoying the broader and gayer
life there. Moreover, he soon advanced far beyond them in thought by
realizing that they were beginning at the wrong end of the labor,
for even at that time he seems to have caught, by what must almost
be looked upon as an inspiration of genius, since there was nothing
apparent in his training that would have suggested it, the realization
of the fact that hope for his people lay in bettering their condition,
that any real benefit must begin with the benighted folk at home,
that the introduction of reforms for which they were unprepared would
be useless, even dangerous to them. This was not at all the popular
idea among his associates and led to serious disagreements with their
leaders, for it was the way of toil and sacrifice without any of the
excitement and glamour that came from drawing up magnificent plans
and sending them back home with appeals for funds to carry on the
propaganda--for the most part banquets and entertainments to Spain's
political leaders.
His views, as revealed in his purely political writings, may be
succinctly stated, for he had that faculty of expression which never
leaves any room for doubt as to the meaning. His people had a natural
right to grow and to develop, and any obstacles to such growth and
development were to be removed. He realized that the masses of his
countrymen were sunk deep in poverty and ignorance, cringing and
crouching before political authority, crawling and groveling before
religious superstition, but to him this was no subject for jest
or indifferent neglect--it was a serious condition which should be
ameliorated, and hope lay in working into the inert social mass the
leaven of conscious individual effort toward the development of a
distinctive, responsible personality. He was profoundly appreciative
of all the good that Spain had done, but saw in this no inconsistency
with the desire that this gratitude might be given cause to be ever
on the increase, thereby uniting the Philippines with the mother
country by the firm bonds of common ideas and interests, for his
earlier writings breathe nothing but admiration, respect, and loyalty
for Spain and her more advanced institutions. The issue was clear to
him and he tried to keep it so.
It was indeed administrative myopia, induced largely by blind greed,
which allowed the friar orders to confuse the objections to their
repressive system with an attack upon Spanish sovereignty, thereby
dragging matters from bad to worse, to engender ill feeling and finally
desperation. This narrow, selfish policy had about as much soundness
in it as the idea upon which it was based, so often brought forward