Why did José Rizal uphold his ideals? — Questioning the depths of conviction and death

As the year-end holiday season approaches, many people do not question why December 30th is a national holiday. However, behind that day lies a dramatic event that actually took place in late December over a century ago. On the grounds of Manila, José Rizal calmly headed to the execution site. His refusal to engage in violent uprising was not because he doubted the effectiveness of armed struggle, but because he could not bear to compromise his beliefs.

Yet, what had the most profound impact on Philippine history was not the moment of his death itself, but the very trajectory of his life. Now, December 30th is merely a calendar holiday, signifying paid leave and family time. Modern people have no room for reflection on a figure from the 19th century. However, this indifference may itself suggest why Rizal’s legacy remains so important today.

Between Ideals and Reality — José Rizal’s Choice

Rizal’s path to death was not a matter of fate but the result of thorough deliberation. Several months before his execution, Katipunan proposed rescuing him from exile in Dapitan. The revolutionary forces led by Andres Bonifacio sought to rally his knowledge and influence for the fight for independence.

However, Rizal declined the offer. His reasoning was extremely cold-blooded. At that time, the Philippines was resource-scarce, and the population was unprepared for armed conflict; he was convinced that uprising would only lead to bloodshed and tragedy. Rizal and Katipunan had different approaches. The former aimed for liberation through reform within the system, while the latter chose direct armed independence.

Interestingly, in an official statement on December 15, 1896, Rizal explicitly condemned the uprising movement. “This riot damages the honor of the Filipino people and undermines the credibility of our cause. I strongly condemn its criminal methods and deny any involvement,” he declared.

Nevertheless, history is remarkably ironic. Despite Rizal’s desire for reform within the system, his intellectual activities and propaganda movements fostered a national consciousness that made independence from Spain inevitable.

Historian Renato Constantino pointed out in his 1972 essay, Unthinking Worship: “Propaganda did not bring Filipinos closer to Spain; rather, it sowed the seeds of separation. The pressure toward Spanishization transformed into a clear formation of national consciousness.”

From the Dream of Assimilation to National Awareness — The Trajectory of Thought

Rizal himself long believed that assimilation with Spain was possible and desirable. Deeply enamored with European art, culture, and liberal ideas, he sought his identity as an intellectual within that framework.

However, racism and injustice repeatedly eroded his ideals. Witnessing his family’s land disputes with Dominican friars in the Calamba region, Rizal’s faith in the possibility of assimilation began to waver. In a letter to his friend Blumentritt in 1887, he admitted, “It was a mistake for Filipinos to have long desired and sincerely yearned for Spanishization.”

Constantino evaluated Rizal as “the embodiment of ‘consciousness without movement’.” Yet, that very consciousness was transformed into action through revolution. Rizal played a notable role as a social critic and exposer of oppression. His writings became part of a tradition of protest that blossomed into the independence and separatist movements.

“His initial goal of elevating the Indio to the stage of Spanishization, integrating the nation, and making it a Spanish province, transformed into its exact opposite,” Constantino notes.

Execution or the Liberation of Thought — The Turning Point of 1896

In 1896, in Manila’s Luneta Park, Spain pulled the trigger, and José Rizal fell. But what rose was something greater than him. His execution intensified Filipinos’ desire for separation and independence, unified scattered movements, and provided moral clarity to the independence war.

Without Rizal, the uprising would likely have been more fragmented, lacking unity and with weak theoretical foundations. His life and death brought about a systemic shift—not because he sought martyrdom, but because he refused to betray his ideals.

Historian Ambeth Ocampo describes his enigmatic calmness in Rizal Without a Cross (1990): “Rizal was a man of silence and tranquility, who deliberately and coldly walked toward death for his beliefs. It is said that just before his execution, his pulse was normal. How many people would die for their convictions in an unavoidable situation?”

In a letter written in 1882, Rizal explained why he chose not to save himself: “Furthermore, to those who say we lack patriotism, I want to show that we know how to die for duty and conviction. If we die for loved ones, for the homeland, and for our beloved compatriots, what is death?”

Questions for the Modern Era — Reassessing Rizal’s Legacy

Today, José Rizal is often remembered as a saint-like hero supported by America. His current legacy has been shaped partly by historical narratives under American colonial rule. Theodore Friend revealed in Between Two Empires that “Aguinaldo was too radical, Bonifacio too revolutionary, and Mabini too stubborn,” which is why Rizal was favored.

Constantino further states frankly, “Colonial rulers did not favor heroes incompatible with American colonial policies.”

However, the title of national hero is not an official constitutional status; Rizal’s significance surpasses that. His legacy exists independently. By humanizing rather than sanctifying him, Filipinos can ask deeper questions: Which parts of his example remain valid today? Which parts are outdated?

In Our Task: Making Rizal Obsolete, Constantino says, “Rizal’s personal goal always aligned with what he considered the highest interests of the nation.” The intention to make Rizal obsolete implied that as long as corruption and injustice persist, his model remains relevant. If these ideals are truly realized, his mission would be complete, and the need for symbolic figures inspiring conscience would disappear.

But the Philippines is far from that situation. Just as Rizal refused to betray his ideals, today’s Filipinos are also called to maintain an unwavering stance against the temptations and pressures of corruption and injustice. Perhaps that is the most enduring and essential lesson.

December 30th is a day for the nation to remember not only how José Rizal faced death but, more importantly, why he chose not to save himself—reflecting on the meaning of that choice.