True heroes, thriving in our hearts and minds, need no official approval
Credit to Author: MARLEN V. RONQUILLO| Date: Sat, 31 Aug 2019 16:15:29 +0000
The epic events in the life of a country, especially in the early years, are rarely marked by physical markers. This is the reason behind the importance of dates — the more precise and specific, the better — in remembering and commemorating the most important events, including the events of impossible heroism and nobility, in a particular country or in a particular race. Dates have been, from time immemorial, the de facto historical markers.
Historical accounts rendered by some prominent public intellectuals on the Atlantic side, for example, narrate, in chronological order, the accounts of life in the Anglo-Saxon and Norman England drawn from the translated version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which is a compilation of the seven manuscripts based on early annals. The take-off points are important dates in the lives of the early Anglos-Saxon/Norman England years.
What important events took place in the 9th century, during the time of King Alfred, which was about the time the chronicling of the Anglo-Saxon/Norman England years started?
What was the reign of King Canute like? Did the Anglo-Saxon world suffer much during the reign of Æthelred the Unready? The Chronicle had a comprehensive accounting of Anglo-Saxon life during the rule of Edward the Confessor.
Before the narratives, before the more comprehensive and substantive explanation of historical events, you have to have dates. The acts of heroism and betrayal, the nobility of heroes, and the brutality and rapacity of the heels are chronicled extensively. There is often a judicious account on at what specific time frames these occurred.
In our own specific context, we remember the date of Rizal’s execution, his date of birth and almost the most important events in his life — up to the time in the late 20th century when Malaysian leader Anwar Ibrahim, a scholar of the Malay race, called Rizal the first “Renaissance Man” in this part of Asia. There was a time in our public school life when we knew (and we knew by heart) the exact time and circumstance of Josephine Bracken’s entry into the life of our hero.
At what young age did Rizal lose one of his slippers to the currents, then unshod the other so the finder may find a pair and can make use of the find? At that age, we knew that Rizal already was the epitome of the Jesuit ideal — “a man for others.”
When did the Katipuneros assemble at Pugad Lawin, tear their cedulas and collectively start the assault on everything that represented Spain?
When was the treacherous day the elite of the revolution murdered Ka Andres and his dream of a revolution led by the proletariat? At what exact period did Emilio Jacinto write and publish the Kartilya ng Katipunan, the revolutionary movement’s code of ethics?
When did the insurrection against the new colonial masters, the Americans, start — led by new heroes that emerged after the phlegmatic fight put up by the retreating Aguinaldo forces?
What was the day of infamy in the mid-20th century, when we were dragged into World War 2? When did the Japanese execute Jose Abad Santos?
In the late 20th century, the August day Ninoy Aquino lay bloodied at the airport tarmac was recently commemorated.
The deaths of our martyrs and heroes, often premature and brutal and carried out by the forces of reaction, are marked by dates, complemented with accurate — but often understated — narratives of their heroism and martyrdom. The dates are not mere dates and the stories or our heroes and martyrs are like hymns that we sing forever. Embedded in our hearts and minds.
Nothing is implied about heroism. Nothing can be faked. The dates of martyrdom are long remembered, forever etched in the collective memory of a people — or at least the class of people — who do not want to forget.
This is universal. The stories of a country have the stories of its heroes and its martyrs at the very core of its existence and its reason for being. They are at the center of all national narratives.
Question. Do we need to officially sanction heroism? Or stamp an official government seal to prove the verity and authenticity on what our heroes and martyrs did? Just to satisfy, perhaps, the twisted whimsy of a senator of the realm who recently said this: “The reality is that, officially, we have no heroes.”
What? Officiousness will just devalue heroism.
What comes close to an official recognition of heroism right now in the Philippine context is burial at the Libingan ng Mga Bayani. The Libingan, as the name states, is the official resting place for our heroes. Burial there is the de facto state-granted stamp on heroism. That must be the reference point of the senator’s twisted historical whimsy. That heroism should be official and state-sanctioned.
The problem is undeserved burials can desecrate even the most hallowed ground like the Libingan. Recently, through a presidential fiat, a supposed hero with more than 30 fake war medals supporting his claims of fake heroism was buried there (the fakery was exposed by the newspaper Malaya under the late Joe Burgos), a contentious burial marred by days protests.
The senator, herself charged with faking her University of the Philippines and Princeton diplomas, is that buried man’s daughter.