Bryan Anthony C. Paraiso
Supervising Historic Sites Development Officer

First time encounters with José Rizal’s writings tend to overwhelm even the most determined reader. Who would not be when its writer, a Renaissance man, delved into topics that ran the whole gamut of the arts, sciences, politics and history, languages, even the intricacies of diverse cultural phenomena? College students taking the requisite Rizal course often stick to the hero’s biographies but understandably eschew his verbose poetry and prose, perhaps rolling their eyes and jokingly commenting, “nakaka-nosebleed!”

Yet, even in his lifetime, José Rizal’s countrymen and foreign friends were astounded by his ingenuity and erudition. His Austrian friend Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt, in a letter addressed to the hero dated 27 March 1887, enthuses:

“I knew already that you were a man of extraordinary talent (Pardo de Tavera had already told me about it and this could also be seen by the marvelously short time that you learned my difficult and coarse mother tongue), but this notwithstanding, your work has exceeded my expectations and I consider myself lucky that you have honored me with your friendship. But not only I but your people also can be called lucky for having in you a son and loyal patriot. If you will continue thus, you can become for your people one of those great men who will exert a definite influence on their spiritual development.”

These multitudinous interests were peripheral to Rizal’s patriotic ideals—he vigorously pursued reforms to ensure equality and justice for his countrymen, pejoratively called indios by the Spanish authorities. He firmly believed that the indio, given the proper education, livelihood opportunities, and ample participation in governance, can contribute to the betterment of his society and nation.

He dared to call his compatriots ‘Filipinos,’ and encouraged them to be proud of their race:

“Look up with a tranquil face,
Philippine youth, on this day and shine,
manifesting the grace and gallantry of your line,
fair hope of this land of mine!”

But how did his patriotic consciousness evolve? Where did José Rizal develop his extensive learning? Nurtured by intimate family ties, his aptitude and artistic creativity were encouraged by his parents’ firm but tender instruction, and his own innate thirst for knowledge and curiosity for the world around him. Rizal was endlessly inquisitive and loved to browse through the books in his father’s extensive library, probably gazing at the pictures of birds, animals, and shells since the natural sciences delighted him.

He loved to gather scraps of cloth, paper, melted wax, clay, and charcoal, which he would use to draw with or mold figurines of farm animals and historical personalities. A well-loved anecdote among the Rizal family relates how his sisters teasingly called him ‘hambog’ or braggart, while young Jose was sculpting a figure of Napoleon Bonaparte, and he looked at them meaningfully, and declared that in the future, people would erect statues in his honor!

Rizal candidly relates in his student diary that his mother Teodora Alonso was his first teacher: “After God, the mother is everything to man. She taught me how to read, she taught me how to stammer the humble prayers that I addressed fervently to God, and now that I’m a young man, ah, where is that simplicity, that innocence of my early days…”

Rizal deeply cherished his mother that distressed him when she was unjustly accused of trying to poison his uncle’s wife and imprisoned at the provincial jail in Sta. Cruz, Laguna for two and a half (2½) years. Embittered, he grieved: “…I don’t want to tell you our resentment and profound sorrow…We were nine children, and our mother was unjustly snatched away from us and by whom? By some men who had been our friends and whom we had treated as sacred guests. We learned later that our mother got sick, far from us and at an advanced age.”

It was his first taste of Spanish oppression that he wrote: “I asked myself if, across the lake, people lived in the same way. I wondered if there they tortured their countrymen with hard and cruel whips merely on suspicion. Did they respect the home there? Or over there too, in order to live in peace, did one have to bribe tyrants?”

Though anguished by family troubles, Rizal persisted in his studies at the Ateneo Municipal de Manila from 1872 to 1877. Because of his extraordinary intellect and talent, he meteorically rose to the top of his class and periodically received honors.

His scholarly bent was fostered by the Jesuit, Fr. Francisco de Paula Sanchez who taught him mathematics, rhetoric, and Greek. Through his teacher’s encouragement, Rizal’s literary creativity flourished, producing exceptional literary works such as the five-act play in Spanish verse, San Eustaquio, Martir.  He even excelled in the fine arts, producing a pensive self-portrait sketch and a wood carving of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which until now, is one of the Ateneo’s esteemed relics.

He wistfully recalled: “By dint of studying, analyzing, aspiring, I was transformed little by little, thanks to the beneficent influence of a zealous professor. I know not whether my present state makes me regard all that is past as beautiful, and the present as sad. I never wanted to leave school and now…I would give anything to get over this trying time of youth…”

During his studies and travels in Europe, Rizal was at the center of thriving art and literary movements. One wonders if Rizal had ever visited one of the Parisian galleries exhibiting Impressionist and Expressionist art. Did he perchance mingle with any of the Symbolist poets like Verlaine or Rimbaud in the cafés or bars? Looking at the several sketches that Rizal had made, he must have felt the verve of creativity in the cultural capitals of Madrid, Paris, Berlin, and Vienna.

Rizal continued to be a prodigious reader and collector of books, visiting prominent bookshops in Madrid and amassing an estimated 2,000 volumes, among which were rare Spanish tomes that detailed pre-Hispanic Filipino culture and other ethnographic materials that aided him in annotating Antonio Morga’s ‘Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas.’ It is funny to learn that while studying, Rizal had been terribly thrifty that he avoided taking a bath for several months. He writes to his sister Maria in 30 December 1882: “When I get home, I’ll indulge in bathing to satiety. You wouldn’t believe it that since the middle of August I haven’t taken a bath and I haven’t perspired either. That is so here. It is very cold and a bath is expensive. One pays thirty-five cents for one.”

Though torn between personal pleasures and interests, Rizal knew he had a patriotic mission to accomplish. Envisioning his involvement in helping the country, he prepared for this crucial task by reading and educating himself—from books on military history and strategy to works on politics, industry, and agriculture. In April 1890, Rizal wrote to Marcelo H. del Pilar: “I am assiduously studying the happenings in our country. I believe that nothing can redeem us except our brains: materialiter vel idealiter sumptum (materially or ideally considered). I still have faith in this belief of mine.”

While accused of being a fence sitter, Rizal was never averse to the idea of revolution in effecting social change. True, he was cautious, but he stressed to Blumentritt in 1887: “I can assure you that I have no desire to take part in conspiracies which seem to me too premature and risky. But if the government drives us to them, that is to say, when no other hope remains to us but to seek our destruction in war, when Filipinos would prefer to die rather than endure longer their misery, then I will also become a partisan of violent means.”

Rizal opted for a peaceful type of revolution because he believed that change could be achieved through the socio-political regeneration and transformation of all Filipinos, primarily through education. He saw that all Filipinos formed one nation, and the future development of the country lay in a strongly bonded community working together. Given that Spain had no intention of instituting development, it was every Filipino’s duty to work for the welfare and betterment of society and country through assiduous learning and improved technologies in agriculture, business, and industry.

While his arrest and deportation to Dapitan, Zamboanga de Norte in July 1892 seemed to have negated his aspirations, Rizal carried on his transformative work by engaging in productive pursuits and occupations, which improved the lives of Dapitanons. His exemplary life was dictated by simple pleasures—cultivating the land, enriching the minds of the young, encouraging thrift and industry, developing artistry and ingenuity, and showing compassion to communal health and welfare.

With all the troubles facing our government, mayhap, this is the perfect time for our leaders to learn from a Renaissance man’s altruistic service to his countrymen: “…I do not aspire either for eternal fame or eternal renown; I do not aspire to equal others whose conditions, faculties, and circumstances could be and are in effect different from mine. My sole wish is to do what is possible, what is in my hands, the most necessary. I have glimpsed a little light and I believe that it is my duty to teach it to my countrymen.”