WATCHING the outstanding movie “Gomburza” during the Metro Manila Film Festival made me realize again the atrocities and abuses of the Spanish friars in our country. The three priests’ execution portrayed the utter ruthlessness by which the Spanish regime characteristically dealt with insurrection, including threats to the superiority of the “prayles.”
Cedric Juan as Fr. Jose Burgos was particularly gripping, especially towards the end of the multi-awarded movie. The scene would have been more compelling if only the director had captured the more essential message of a priest who told a mercifully protesting Fr. Burgos at the garrote platform that “Christ himself was innocent and they crucified him.” Several witnesses to the execution recalled that the words had a calming effect on Fr. Burgos, who eventually fell quiet and accepted his fate.
The march of history has downed the apparent accountability of the Catholic Church not only in the deaths of Fr. Burgos and the two other priests, framed so unjustly for leading the Cavite mutiny but also of our national hero, Jose Rizal. Not a whiff of apology could be drawn from any leader of the Church. The heroism of the four had been well documented in innumerable and truthful accounts.
But sadly, it took a death — his own death — to show that violence can never accomplish what love can.’
The annual commemoration of the martyrdom of Rizal every December 30 has conveniently left out those responsible for the dastardly deed, and dementia has crept into our national and political leadership advancing their mouth-watering craving for millions of votes during elections by not putting up with an errant Church.
Former President Rodrigo Duterte dealt with the problem of drugs violently and he never really cared about the drug suspects as victims and treated them as scums and criminals. Many claim he had them put away by the real and bigger criminals in uniform. There was nothing in the exercise of this power that showed a zeal and selflessness for the lives of his fellowmen.
Our national leaders should learn a lesson from Martin Luther King, a pastor and the most prominent leader of the US civil rights movement. who confronted the vicious use of power in an extraordinary way. In our country, rebels or insurgents, criminals and prison inmates should be shown more humane concern and genuine compassion
“But they didn’t know power the way Martin Luther King knew it. He knew a power greater than guns and bullets, a force more deadly than blue-streak swearing and switchblades. He knew the power of love. And he had seen it kill a lot of bad things.
“He had watched it bring prejudice to its knees in Montgomery, Alabama after a year-long bus boycott put the world on notice that racial discrimination was entering its death cycle. He had watched it topple the bigoted brass in Birmingham’s city hall and earn African Americans a seat at the table in the city’s all-white lunchrooms and libraries.
“He had watched it march through the ranks of armed troopers in the little town of Selma, Alabama, and turn thousands of second-class citizens into duly registered voters.
“Of course, ‘to privilege to love’ had come with the accompanying privilege of spending long nights in jail, scraping up yolks from the face, and being chased off the sidewalk with fire hoses, tear gas, and police dogs. It had meant broken arms and bloody noses, knees to the groin and bottles to the head. Too often it had ended in death — sometimes at the hands of those sworn to protect the public.
“But King looked back to the movement’s roots — and farther back to the movement’s inspiration — and determined that the price of love was always worth paying.”
He wrote: “From the beginning, a basic philosophy guided the movement. This guiding principle has since been referred to variously as nonviolent resistance, noncooperation and passive resistance. But in the first days of the protest, none of these expressions was mentioned; the phrase most often heard was ‘Christian love.’
“It was the Sermon on the Mount, rather than a doctrine of passive resistance, that initially inspired the Negroes of Montgomery to dignified social action. It was Jesus of Nazareth that stirred the Negroes to protest with the creative weapon of love. In a world in which most men attempt to defend their highest values by the weapons of destruction, it was morally refreshing to hear five thousand Negroes in Montgomery shout ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’ when they were exhorted to pray for those who opposed them or pray ‘Lord, give us strength of body to keep walking in freedom and to remain nonviolent, though we may face death.’”
“But sadly, it took a death — his own death — to show that violence can never accomplish what love can.” (From the book Words To Die For by Lawrence Kimbrough)
