del Pilar had concluded that the time was at hand for more vigorous
measures, so on the other hand some of the Filipinos of education
and social position (cautious also, in some cases, because of their
property) had become discouraged and faint-hearted. The deportation
of Rizal had its effect in 1892, and the local government reforms of
1893-94 were followed by a reactionary government in Spain which might
nullify even such concessions, in the face of the constant demand for a
check upon the half-liberal régime of Blanco. Some of the middle-class
leaders of Manila, who had been drawn into the Masonic movement, had
decided that the time had come to organize the masses, at least in the
Tagálog provinces. Andrés Bonifacio, an employe of a foreign business
house in Manila, was the leading spirit; gathering his ideas of modern
reform from reading Spanish treatises on the French Revolution, he had
imbibed also a notion that the methods of the mob in Paris were those
best adapted to secure amelioration for the Filipinos. His ideas were
those of a socialist, and of a socialist of the French Revolution type,
and he thought them applicable to an undeveloped tropical country,
where the pressure of industrial competition is almost unknown,
and where with the slightest reasonable exertion starvation may be
dismissed from thought. There was in this new propaganda an element
of resentment toward the wealthy, upper-class Filipinos, the landed
proprietors in general, as well as toward the friar landlords and
the whole fabric of government and society resting on them. Summing
up all the evidence he has been able to obtain on the Katipunan, the
writer agrees with Felipe G. Calderón, a Filipino, in his opinion
[141] that its socialistic character negatives the assertion of
the Spanish writers that the upper-class Filipinos were its real
supporters and directors, working in the background; and that, while
this propaganda from below looked to independence and the substitution
of Spanish rule by Filipino rule, yet it was without any political
program, properly speaking, and there was merely a crude idea in
the minds of the masses that they were somehow going to shake off
their masters, get rid of the whites, and divide up the big estates
not only of the friars but of Filipino landholders as well. Calderón
does not discuss the alleged plan of the Katipunan to assassinate the
whites, especially the friars. It is certain that such bloodthirsty
ideas were in the minds of some of the leaders; but the more direct
documentary evidence that has been produced on this point is perhaps
open to the suspicion that it was manufactured in connection with
the courts-martial which operated with such fury after the outbreak
of revolt in 1896. [142] After all the furore that had been made, the
actual revelations as to the importance of the organization, character
of its leaders, number of its followers, and extent of its operations,
would have made the whole affair somewhat ridiculous, had it not been
represented that behind this humble organization of perhaps forty
thousand initiates in the Tagálog towns there was a great program for
setting up an independent government and that the upper-class Filipinos
were simply using this organization as a stalking-horse. The truth
appears to be that, while these over-important Katipunan leaders
thought in terms grandiloquent, and led their humble followers in
the towns around Manila most affected by the propaganda to indulge
in futile and ridiculous dreams of a coming millennium (while some of
themselves were quarreling over the obols contributed), the movement
was mostly talk even up to the time when an Augustinian curate in
Manila made himself the hero of the rabid Spanish element in Manila by
"exposing" an organization about which the governmental authorities
had had partial information for some weeks, or even months. Bonifacio
started this separate organization in 1894, but Calderón seems to be
correct in saying that work in the towns outside of Manila was only
begun in the spring of 1896. The humble followers were assured that
the Japanese government would help them oust Spain, and that rifles
to arm the whole population would come from there. But Japan never
in the least violated her obligations to Spain, and, if the leaders
even bought any rifles in Japan, they must have been few indeed. [143]
When Bonifacio sent an emissary to Dapitan in the spring of 1896, to
propose to Rizal a plan of armed revolt and that he should escape on
a steam vessel sent for the purpose, and join in this campaign, Rizal
rejected the proposition as folly, and displayed his great impatience
with it. [144] On every ground, it seems probable that, had not Friar
Gil and the Spanish press of Manila been so insistent on giving great
publicity to some Katipunan engraving-stones, receipts for dues, etc.,
kept in hiding by the affiliated employes of a Spanish newspaper,
the revolt might never have come about at all. Certainly, no date was
set for it (though various future dates had been vaguely discussed),
till the sudden arrests of August 19 and 20, 1896, sent Bonifacio and
his companions fleeing to Bulakan Province where, practically without
arms, they appealed to their fellow-workers in Bulakan, Manila, and
Cavite provinces to rise in revolt on August 30. The friars and the
rabid element of Spanish patriots were so anxious to force the hand
of Blanco, and to discredit him, that, it may be, they forced upon a
military commander whose troops were mostly in Mindanao a revolt that,
a few months further on, might either have dissipated itself or have
been avoided by an adequate show of force. [145]
Because the friars are so much to the fore in all the discussions of
these events, we must not overlook the part played by governmental
abuses, as already described. The Civil Guard, given a more extensive
organization and scope of action during these closing years of Spanish
rule, by its abuses (committed, for the most part, by Filipinos
upon their own fellows) played probably the foremost part in drawing
odium upon the government. [146] Next to police abuses, and sometimes
allied with them, were the misuses of the powers of local government
(with which alone the great majority of the people came into direct
contact), especially in regard to the levy of forced labor; and here
again, the humble Filipino's complaint was chiefly against his own
fellow-countrymen of power and position. But, summing up all the
administrative abuses and all the evils of the government system, we
are still left a long way from agreement with the friars' assertions
that the masses loved them and that governmental abuses were the sole
cause of rebellion. [147]
Insurrection of 1896-97.--No history from the Filipino side has
yet come to light, and there are certain points that can be cleared
up only by the frank testimony of the Filipino participants. [148]
We are dependent chiefly on Spanish sources, written in the passion
of the times by men not careful about sifting the facts. All things
considered, the two best sources, both for what they say and for
what may be inferred from them, are the so-called Memorias of two
Governor-Generals, prepared in order to defend their administrations
before the Spanish Senate and the public; that of Blanco covering the
preparatory stage and early months of the rebellion, that of Primo
de Rivera its closing stages. Between these two Governor-Generals,
the work of Monteverde y Sedano covers the military operations under
Polavieja.
Blanco's Memoria [149] affords, unconsciously, the most severe
indictment that could be passed on Spain's fitness to hold the
Philippines (or her other colonies) in 1898. This man was really of
liberal temperament; he had formed a just conception of the real
insignificance of the Katipunan movement; and he strove, when the
crisis was prematurely forced on him, to restrain the vindictiveness
of the rabid Spanish element, and really believed in the efficacy of a
"policy of attraction." But instead of setting forth on broader grounds
the reasons for his course of action and discussing with sincerity
and frankness a policy for the Philippines, he felt compelled after
his return to Spain to bow before the howls of press and public. He
defends himself before his clerical-conservative critics not by showing
the folly of their illiberal policy for the colony, but endeavors
to prove that they were wrong in accusing him of lack of severity as
well as of energy. Thus we learn (p. 20) that, even under a Blanco,
before the outbreak came, one thousand and forty-two persons had been
deported "as Masons, disaffected and suspicious or harmful to their
towns." During the night of August 19-20, 1896, following the sensation
created by Friar Gil, there were forty-three arrests in Manila, and
three hundred more within the next week. During September, thirty
seven men taken in arms were shot, after summary trials (p. 25.) The
number of Filipinos, mostly men of some position, who had not taken
up arms, but were arrested for alleged complicity in the Katipunan,
and involved in the trials before a special court for conspiracy and
sedition, very soon mounted to five hundred, including those sent
in from the provinces. Some remained incomunicados for more than
forty days. The men executed from September 4 to December 12, 1896,
when Blanco surrendered command to Polavieja, numbered seventy-four
in all. [150]
Evidence as to the "reign of terror" that was inaugurated in Manila may
be drawn from the Spanish treatises to be cited, wherein the episode
is recited with gusto. The Spanish press of Manila for 1896-98;
also that of Spain, especially Philippine letters of 1896-98 in La
Política de España en Filipinas, El Heraldo, El Imparcial and El
Correo of Madrid, furnished the original source of information for
these writers, and should be used to supplement this history of the
insurrection. Transcriptions of testimony taken by the special court
for sedition and conspiracy appear in Retana's Archivo, iii and iv, and
evidences that the more yielding witnesses had their phraseology, and
sometimes their statements of fact, dictated to them will be noted by
the careful reader, especially if he be familiar with Spanish methods
of judicial procedure. References to the common use of torture to
make witnesses (in some cases eager enough to insure their own safety
by "delation") sign such testimony, will be found in the Filipino
press since 1898, occasionally also in Spanish periodicals of Manila
since 1898. [151] These same sources also supplement the citations
on Rizal already given, for the story of his trial and execution,
and the increase of severity and terrorism after Polavieja took
charge. They are also, in the main, our sole, fragmentary sources
on the state of Cavite during insurgent control of the province,
the insurgent organization, etc. [152]
The Spanish treatises and pamphlets on the insurrection are: [153]
José M. del Castillo y Jimenez, El Katipunan, ó el Filibusterismo
en Filipinas (Madrid, 1897). Partial accounts of events of 1896-97;
already characterized as rabid and cheaply patriotic.
Ricardo Monet y Carretero, Comandancia general de Panay y
Negros. Alteraciones de órden público ... desde Octubre de 1896 á
Marzo de 1897 (Iloilo, 1897). Mostly official proclamations, etc.,
by the author as commander in the western district of Bisayas,
regarding disturbances there and symptoms of a tendency to revolt.
E. Reverter y Delmas.--Filipinos por España. Narración episódica de la
rebelión en el archipiélago Filipino (Barcelona, 1897); 2 vols. The
title of a later edition is La insurrección de Filipinas. Known to
the writer only by title. [154]
Enrique Abella y Casariego, Filipinas (Madrid, 1898). More temperate
than most other Spanish writings. Treats of the development of the
insurrection, and of the course of events under Blanco, Polavieja,
and Primo de Rivera.
Federico de Monteverde y Sedano, Campaña de Filipinas, La división
Lachambre. 1897 (Madrid, 1898.) Excellent account of the campaign
of Polavieja by his aide; somewhat grandiloquent, considering the
comparative insignificance of the military operations themselves.
Les Philippines et l'insurrection de 1896-1897 (Paris, 1899); a
thirty-nine-page reprint from Revue militaire de l'étranger.
L. Aycart--La campaña de Filipinas. Recuerdos é impresiones de
un médico militar (Madrid, 1900). Contains some charts and some
interesting data on the military campaign as such.
Manuel Sastrón--La insurrección en Filipinas y guerra hispano-americana
(Madrid, 1901). [155] Written by a Spanish official in Manila during
this time, and composed of accounts and documents drawn mainly from
the press of Manila. It is, however, the most useful arsenal of data.
Major John S. Mallory--The Philippine Insurrection, 1896-1898
(appendix viii to report of Major-General G. W. Davis, commanding
the division of the Philippines, in Report of War Department, 1903,
vol. 3, pp. 399-425). A non-critical compilation, mostly from Sastrón
and Monteverde y Sedano. It is, however, by far the best review
of the 1896-97 insurrection as such that is available in English,
and is a fairly satisfactory account for one who cannot consult the
Spanish sources. Far better than Foreman's account.
M. Arroyo Vea-Murguía--Defensa del sitio de Naic (Filipinas). Antes
y despues. (Madrid, 1904.) Of little value.
The Pact of Biak-na-bató.--Purposely, the word "treaty," so often
applied to this transaction, is here avoided; for, apart from
technical objections to a word that applies to agreements between
sovereign powers, this was no treaty in any sense of the word. There
was some mystery surrounding the negotiations by which the insurgent
chiefs surrendered a few hundred nondescript firearms and retired to
Hongkong; untrue or half-true charges were bandied back and forth,
for political effect, in the Cortes and the press of Spain; and,
of the chief actors in the affair, only Primo de Rivera has given
his account--perhaps not with entire frankness. [156] Aguinaldo has
confined his statements on the subject to the most brief assertions
of a general nature [157] to the effect that reforms by the Spanish
government were promised. Primo de Rivera categorically denies this;
while Pedro A. Paterno, the go-between, has made no statement at
all during the nine years that have passed since the conflicting
statements have been before the public, involving directly the
question of his own veracity and good faith. Primo de Rivera is an
ex parte witness, to be sure; but his statements upon the more vital
points involved are corroborated by the very insurgent documents on
this subject captured by the American army in 1899 and now in the
War Department at Washington. [158] Primo de Rivera says that, when
Paterno presented a paper early in the negotiations containing a full
program of reforms, [159] he rejected the document absolutely, saying
he could not discuss such matters with the insurgent chiefs, that
the Spanish government would accord such reforms as it thought wise,
and he could only interpose his good offices to make recommendations
in that respect. The copy of this document now in the War Department
at Washington shows the clauses about reform to have been crossed
out. Primo de Rivera says that, from that time forth, the negotiation
was purely on the basis of a payment to the rebel chiefs to surrender
their arms, order the insurgents in the other provinces to do the same,
and emigrate to foreign parts. The only documents bearing signatures on
both sides, either of those published at Washington or elsewhere, refer
exclusively to these particular points of money, surrender of arms,
and program of emigration, though Paterno inserted in a preliminary
of the final contract on these subjects a clause as to reposing
confidence in the Spanish government to "satisfy the desire of the
Filipino people." [160] Primo de Rivera recommended the transaction to
his government for one reason, expressly because it would "discredit
[desprestigiando] the chiefs selling out and emigrating." [161]
The first proposition of the insurgents was for 3,000,000 pesos; Primo
de Rivera acceded, under authority from Madrid, to 1,700,000 pesos;
and the total sum named in the contract signed on December 14, 1897, is
800,000 pesos. When Aguinaldo and his twenty-seven companions reached
Hongkong, they received 400,000 pesos and never any more. Though
really looking at it as a bribe, the Spanish government had consented
to the money payment ostensibly on the ground of indemnity to widows,
orphans, and those who had suffered property losses by the war, and
to provide support for the insurgent chiefs abroad. That it was the
idea of at least some of the insurgent leaders that the money was
to be divided between them is shown by a protest signed by eight
of those who remained behind to secure the surrender of more arms
than the paltry number of two hundred and twenty-five turned over at
Biak-na-bató, appealing to Primo de Rivera for "their share." [162]
The latter says he turned over to these men and Paterno the 200,000
pesos of the second payment (the actual disposition of which is
unknown [163]); and that he turned over the remaining 200,000 pesos
to Governor-General Augustín in April, 1898, when it was evident that
peace had not been assured, after all. As to the remaining 900,000
pesos which Primo de Rivera had authority to pay, but which did not
appear in the final contract, Primo de Rivera says (pp. 133, 134)
that Paterno omitted them from the document because they were to be
used to "indemnify those not in arms," and that he did not "think it
prudent to inquire further about them at the time." [164]
Enough has been developed to show the demoralizing character of the
transaction. In justice to Aguinaldo and his closest associates,
it is to be said that they had kept the money practically intact,
for use in a possible future insurrection, until they spent some of
it for arms after Commodore Dewey's victory in Manila Bay. [165]
Nor are we able to say categorically that Aguinaldo and the other
leaders in Biak-na-bató were not led to believe that specific reforms
had been promised verbally by Primo de Rivera in the name of his
government; Aguinaldo and Paterno could clear up that matter, but
neither speaks. Just what informal discussion of this subject there
was between Paterno and Primo de Rivera, we do not know; but the
latter's own version will warrant the conclusion that he at least
permitted Paterno to lay before the insurgents the fact that he was
making recommendations on this line, and to hold out the expectation
of results, once he was not confronted with armed rebellion. [166] He
declares that a scheme of Philippine reform, covering also the friar
question, had been drawn up and agreed upon, when Premier Cánovas
was assassinated and the Conservatives soon after fell from power;
but he does not tell us what were the reforms as to the friars. Primo
de Rivera continued to give his ideas as to the need for reform in
provision of parishes, church fees, local government, education, civil
service, etc., after the Liberals came into power. Yet, though stating
the case against the friars in strong terms, virtually confirming every
charge made against them, he appears to have advised only a curtailment
of their power and a more rigid discipline, not their elimination as
parish-priests, which was the aim of most of the insurgents. [167]
When a Spanish editor in Manila began writing in February, 1898, of
political reforms in the direction of "autonomy," without submitting
his articles to previous censure, Primo de Rivera suspended publication
of the periodical. [168] That Spanish circles in Manila as well as
the Filipinos were in expectation, in late 1897 and early 1898, of
the announcement of some comprehensive scheme of Philippine reform, is
apparent from the press of the time. [169] The Liberal press of Madrid
and Barcelona was also actively agitating reform for the Philippines,
and Spanish Liberals and Filipinos addressed petitions on the subject
to the government at Madrid. [170] The general belief at Manila was
also that some sort of promise of reforms had passed at Biak-na-bató,
even that it included the gradual withdrawal of the friars. [171] That
the religious orders themselves knew that they were the storm-center
is sufficiently shown by the Memorial of April 21, 1898, reproduced
post, pp. 227-286. [172]
The Question of Independence.--We have, on one hand, the assertions
of rabid Spanish writers that separation from Spain was throughout
the real aim of the Filipino leaders, who merely covered it under
a plea for reforms (the friars say, under a false assertion that
the Filipinos were opposed to them). We have, in direct opposition,
the assertions of Spanish Liberals and of some Filipinos that the
movement was inspired by genuine loyalty to Spain, and was only a
protest and appeal for reforms even in its last phase as an outbreak
in arms, 1896-98. This view was accepted by the Schurman Commission
in 1899. Again, during the years from 1898 to date, when demands
for independence were made upon the United States, the more radical
Filipino leaders, first in insurrection, now in political agitation,
have asserted that complete political independence was definitely the
aim in 1896-97, and was the ideal in mind for some years before. Thus
they would corroborate the assertions of the more rabid Spaniards who
claimed that Rizal and all his co-workers, both in the aristocratic
ranks above and in the Katipunan below, were hypocritical in their
protestations of loyalty to Spain. Where does the truth lie?
The fact is, one can sustain any view he prefers to take of
this subject, by detached citations from documents of one sort or
another. The real answer is to be found only by a careful survey of all
the evidence as to Filipino activities and aspirations. We note that,
when Rizal discusses the possibility of future independence for his
people, he sets it as a century hence. We need not take him literally,
nor, on the other hand, need we say his title was merely hypocritical,
and he was insidiously inciting his people to think of immediate
independence; we shall be fairer to survey his writings as a whole,
probably reaching the conclusion that the independence of his people
was constantly in his mind, but sober reason warned him to restrain
his and their youthful impatience on the subject. In discussing
Del Pilar and Rizal, it has already been pointed out how the former
changed places with the younger man and became the more impatient of
the two; and the connection of this growing impatience with the more
violent nature of the Katipunan has been shown. So it is not enough to
cite detached passages from Rizal or Del Pilar, for example, to prove
either that they were just filibusters under cover of protestations or,
on the contrary, that they never dreamed of independence. [173] The
propagandists felt differently at different times, under the pressure
sometimes of self-interest, influenced sometimes by momentary incidents
or passions. It is plain that, with some of them at least, a new tone
had been adopted toward Spain when, at the beginning of 1896, the
manifesto of the Katipunan organ to the Filipinos bitterly exclaimed:
"At the end of three hundred years of slavery ..., our people have
done nothing but lament and ask a little consideration and a little
clemency; but they have answered our lamentations with exile and
imprisonment. For seven years in succession La Solidaridad voluntarily
lent itself and exhausted its powers to obtain, not all that they
ought to concede, but only just what of right is owing to us. And
what has been the fruit of our effort unto fatigue and of our loyal
faith? Deception, ridicule, death, and bitterness.
"Today, tired of lifting our hands in continual lamentation, we are
at last ourselves; little by little our voice has lost its tone of
melancholy gained in continual complaint; now ... we raise our heads,
so long accustomed to being bowed, and imbibe strength from the firm
hope we possess by reason of the grandeur of our aim.... We can tell
them bluntly that the phrase 'Spain the Mother' is nothing but just
a bit of adulation, that it is not to be compared with the piece of
cloth or rag by which it is enchained, which trails on the ground;
that there is no such mother and no such child; that there is only
a race that robs, a people that fattens on what is not its own, and
a people that is weary of going, not merely ungorged, but unfed;
that we have to put reliance in nothing but our own powers and in
our defense of our own selves."
Rizal put in the mouth of the old Filipino priest in El Filibusterismo
(1891) the view of the thoughtful Filipino patriot, considering
the social defects of his people: "We owe the ill that afflicts us
to ourselves; let us not put the blame on anyone else. If Spain saw
that we were less complaisant in the face of tyranny, and readier to
strive and suffer for our rights, Spain would be the first to give
us liberty.... But so long as the Filipino people has not sufficient
vigor to proclaim, with erect front and bared breast, its right to
the social life and to make that right good by sacrifice, with its
own blood; so long as we see that our countrymen, though hearing in
their private life the voice of shame and the clamors of conscience,
yet in public life hold their peace or join the chorus about him who
commits abuses and ridicules the victim of the abuse; so long as we see
them shut themselves up to their own egotism and praise with forced
smile the most iniquitous acts, while their eyes are begging a part
of the booty of such acts, why should liberty be given to them? With
Spain or without Spain, they would be always the same, and perhaps,
perhaps, they would be worse. Of what use would be independence if
the slaves of today would be the tyrants of tomorrow? And they would
be so without doubt, for he loves tyranny who submits to it."