Roselle May Advincula

 GOMBURZA: History’s Tale of Unfortunate Events At the break of dawn on February 17, 1872, three secular priests were publicly executed. They did not lead a revolution. They did not fire a gun. They did not plan to overthrow a foreign government that was reigning in their homeland. They were just ordinary priests, members of the church that didn’t belong to any religious orders, fighting for the rights of their fellow native clergies. But on that tragic day in 1872, their death ignited a fire within the Filipinos, people who at that time, were already thirsty for freedom. Who are the GomBurZa? The three martyrs who died in Bagumbayan, now known as Rizal Park, on that ill-fated day were Mariano Gomez, Jose Burgos and Jacinto Zamora. Before we delve into what led to their execution, let’s discuss the life and identity of the three priests now collectively known as GOMBURZA. Mariano Gomez Out of the three, Mariano Gomez is the oldest—he was 72 at the time of their execution, and probably the one that has witnessed more insurgencies during his time. He was an illustrado—a term for “educated” and “enlightened” Filipinos in the Spanish colonial period. He earned a law degree at the University of Santo Tomas, but decided to enter the seminary after graduating. When he was still studying theology, he participated in an examination that selects an appointee for the parish of Ermita, Manila. The test was a competitive one but Gomez managed to get the highest mark. However, due to the minimum age requirement, he was not given the position. Instead, he became a pastor in Bacoor parish of Cavite two years later. During his term, he fought for reform in the local clergy, causing the elites, who were mainly Spanish, to detest him. With a liberal mindset, he once led a call for amnesty for Filipinos who were forced to fight for the Spanish government. In 1849, a royal order commencing the transfers of seven parishes in Cavite to the religious orders were strongly opposed by the native clergy, including Father Gomez. The same order was delivered in 1861 for another 29 parishes within the Archdiocese of Manila. Fr. Gomez started a campaign against these orders and was backed by businessman, Jose Tuason, lawyer Juan Lecaros, and Fr. Pedro Pelaez. In a tragedy due to an earthquake, Fr. Pelaez, who was one of Fr. Gomez’ strong support, died. The latter had since lay lowed and distanced himself even from the movements aiming for the rights of fellow native clergies. Jose Burgos Despite being only half-Filipino, Father Jose Burgos, whose father was a Spanish lieutenant and whose mother is a native of Vigan, is a relentless pursuant of the native clergy’s rights and freedom. But perhaps, that is also the reason why he also sympathized with the insulares or the Spaniards born in the Philippines. The rights of the insulares in the Philippine church were included in his campaign for reformation. Among the three, he is probably the most accomplished for having finished two bachelor degrees in Phliosophy and Theology and then earning licenses in both fields, and gaining two doctorate degrees—one in Theology and another in Canon Law. He was bold in expressing his opposition against unjust. In one notable incident while he was still studying in Letran, he reportedly led a report against the school’s administration when they placed their own candidates in the student council elections. His nationalism that was already evident even while he was still young led the Spanish government to see him as someone dangerous. Jacinto Zamora While history reports say that Jacinto Zamora is as active as Gomez and Burgos in pushing for the reformation of the church and for the rights of fellow priests, when it comes to clergy attributes and standards, he was not as exemplary as the two. He was said to have gambling activities, to the extent of playing cards even during masses. As far as bad lucks go, Father Zamora’s fate was probably one of the worst. In 1872, in the midst of an impending mutiny, a gambler friend sent Zamora a letter. The letter had three words that branded the priest a rebel and a pursuant of revolution in the eyes of the Spanish government: bullets and gun powders. The words were just a mere code for “cash”, but it fell in the wrong hands, at the wrong time. A Case of Colonial Period Fake News and Sensationalism Did you notice any mention of the Cavite Mutiny in the life stories of the three martyr priests? No? That’s because they were never involved in that uprising. But why would three innocent individuals be executed for a crime they didn’t even commit? Let’s look back at the situation of the church and of the indio laborers and soldiers right before the famed mutiny. Under the iron leadership of Spanish Governor General Rafael Izquierdo, the policies that exempted Filipino laborers and soldiers from paying taxes and forced labors were abolished. This in turn, did not make the locals happy, and that gave birth to the planning of the Cavite Mutiny. Within the same period, two things were simultaneously happening within the church. One, the native clergies were active in their calls for secularization. Two, Central Government in Madrid announced its intention to strip the friars of their authority to intervene over civil government matters and of their power to run educational institutions. Add the two and you would have a panicked, desperate Spanish friars. Their positions are being threatened, directly by their own government and in their power-hungry minds, by the native clergies. It was a case of desperate times, desperate measures. Come January 20, 1872 when about 200 oppressed workers in Cavite along with the city’s residents and even illustrados came together and seized Fort San Felipe. They succeeded in assassinating the Spanish commander assigned in the fort and some of his officers on sight. But that’s it. Due to another misfortune that seem to follow this tale, they were subdued and captured in just two days. The key contributor to this failure? A false alarm. On the night of their attack, Sampaloc, a district in Manila, was having a feast for the Virgin of Loreto. What is always present in fiestas? Fireworks. The insurgents of Cavite thought the fireworks was the signal they were waiting from their comrades in Manila, who were supposed to infiltrate Fort Santiago first then use the canons there to signal the start of the attack. As a result, the reinforcement the Cavitenos were waiting for never arrived. After capturing those who participated in the revolt, Gov. Gen. Irquierdo sent a report to the king of Spain. It was a magnified and well-weaved story of two unrelated events that just seemed to fit together perfectly. In the general’s account, he concluded that the revolution was not only due to the dissatisfaction of the laborers that were removed of their privileges and but also because of the cooperation of the native clergy who were then calling for secularization. He went as far as saying that the uprising happened because the Filipinos wanted to overthrow their government to elect their own king, one like Father Zamora or Father Burgos. He also didn’t fail to mention the supposed animosity of the native clergy towards the Spanish friars that led them to corroborate with the rebels. The friars who were clinging at the tip of their powerful robes, were quick to jump in the situation and use it for their advantage. They reiterated the events to the Spanish Government as an organized act that was happening throughout the archipelago. All these accounts written and made by those who hold power during the colonial period resulted in the sentencing that happened on February 15, 1872. Fathers Mariano Gomez, Jose Burgos and Jacinto Zamora was convicted of treason and was sentenced to death by garrote. Witnesses have said that on the day of the execution, Father Gomez was already resigned. In his old age, he must have expected death to come to him anytime soon. Father Zamora already lost his mind and had vacant eyes. Father Burgos, who was the last to be executed, wept like a little boy. Watching his fellow priests die before him, he cried and screamed about his innocence. His claims fell of deaf ears, as deaf as the government that didn’t investigate the general’s and friar’s reports. Their death was unjust, but what happened to the GomBurZa that day served as a match that lit the hearts of their fellow countrymen seeking independence and liberation.