[Published in Kinaadman 9: 42-56. Copyright 1987. Xavier University.

Reprinted in Filipino
philosophy: Traditional approach. Part I, Section 1. Manila: De La Salle University Press, 2000.
Later printed as a revised version in the third edition of Filipino philosophy: Traditional
approach, Part I, Section 1. Quezon City: C & E Publishing, Inc., 2009. The present version is
an updated earlier version.]

ANDRES BONIFACIO THE TRANSLATOR: A CRITIQUE1

Rolando M. Gripaldo

The author contends that Bonifacio was an ilustrado or an intellectual,

that he translated Rizal’s poem when he was in Cavite, and that he deliberately
mistranslated Rizal’s “Mi ultimo adios” for agitational purposes. Bonifacio used
the awit form in his translation since it was the popular form at the time. He was
aware of the significance of bringing to the masses a revolutionary framework for
them to realize there was a way out of their misery.

INTRODUCTION

This paper will examine Bonifacio’s translation of Rizal’s “Ultimo adios.”2 Teodoro
Agoncillo considered Bonifacio not only a careless, amateurish, and bad poet but a poor
translator as well. To quote him (1956:96):

[Bonifacio] was not a poet, judged properly…[and] here and there in his
lines, as in the poem Pagibig sa Tinubuang Bayan…and in his translation into
Tagalog of Rizal’s Ultimo Adios, he showed poor handling and lack of confidence
in his ability as a translator and as a creative artist.

Together with S.V. Epistola, Agoncillo (1963:5-12, 72-80) tried to show this in The
writings and trials of Andres Bonifacio. For example, the first line of stanza 17 of “Pagibig sa
tinubuang bayan” (“Love of Native Land”) is “Saan magbubuhat ang paghihinay” when there is
no such Tagalog word as “paghihinay.” Agoncillo and Epistola believed Bonifacio must have
meant “strength.” Also, in “Katapusang hibik ng Pilipinas” (“Last Sob of Filipinas”) the first line
of stanza 4 is “Gapuring mahigpit ang mga tagalog” when “gapuring” does not exist in the
Tagalog vocabulary. Bonifacio, who may have committed an error in spelling, may have meant
“gapusin,” i.e., “Gapusing mahigpit ang mga tagalog.” Other errors are of this spelling or
typographical nature as in stanza 7 of “Ang mga cazadores” where “mandi” should have read
“mandin” and “halatan” “halatang.”3 The word “tanguay,” which Agoncillo and Epistola
questioned, may have referred to Cavite since this province is called Tanguay (literally “the
Peninsula”) in another work (Lopez 1912:22, 24-26, 35-39, etc.). The word “aguwat”
(“distance”) in “bakit sa tanguay malayo at aguwat” is a noun and not an adjective like
“malayo,” but this can be interpreted as an instance of poetic license. Agoncillo and Epistola
translated the whole line as “for the promontory is far and distant,” although I think a better

1
translation should be “Why is it in Cavite, which is far and distant.” There are also words
difficult to decipher in stanzas 25 (first line), 26 (first line), and 27 (third line) of “Pagibig sa
tinubuang bayan.” If, however, we cast aside typographical or spelling errors, then there is only
one serious instance in which we can say Bonfacio was a bad4 poet, viz., the use of the word
“paghihinay” in “Saan magbubuhat ang paghihinay.” But even here the word “paghihinay” may
have been a spelling error, for it seems to have been “paghihinang.”5 The line may be rendered
as “Where will the welded bond” or “Where will the unified strength,” instead of “Where will
the strength” as Agoncillo and Epistola did. In other words, Andres Bonifacio, even if we admit
him to be an amateur6 poet, was not a bad one after all.
It is in the light of the above interpretation that I will analyze Bonifacio’s translation of
“Ultimo adios.” As I will show later, the inaccuracies, misinterpretation, or “poor handling” that
can be identified in the translation seem to me deliberate, i.e., for agitational purposes rather than
the result of literary inadequacy. In what follows I will discuss (1) Bonifacio’s philosophy of
revolution in order to set the proper perspective; (2) the content of Bonifacio’s translation in
prose; (3) the critique itself which deals with an extensive analysis of the translation; and (4) the
concluding section which seeks to understand Bonifacio’s significance as a political agitator and
his perception of the important factors that could lead to a successful revolutionary agitation.

BONIFACIO’S PHILOSOPHY OF REVOLUTION

Bonifacio’s concept of revolution is embodied in the article “Ang dapat mabatid ng mga
Tagalog” (Agoncillo and Epistola 1963:2-3, 68-69) and it is akin to its original political meaning
of “restoration.” Historically, the word “revolution,” which was first used as an astronomical
term, gained popular currency in the natural sciences through Copernicus’s work, De
revolutionibus orbium coelestium. When first adopted as an ordinary word in human affairs,
“revolution” was used as a metaphor (with the connotation of a perpetual, ever-recurring
irresistible motion associated with the stars) to refer to the rise and fall of human endeavors.
Later as a political term, the word “revolution” came to mean a “restoration.” According to
Hannah Arendt (1963:42-43), the restoration of the English monarchy, overthrown with the
execution of King Charles I, was called a revoluton.
Prior to the coming of the Spaniards, Bonifacio wrote, the Tagalogs lived in great
abundance and prosperity. They were on good terms with the people of the neighboring countries
with whom they traded and bartered all kinds of goods. Their literacy was high: young and old,
men and women , knew how to read and write in their native language. But when the Spaniards
came and offered them friendship, together with the promise of guiding them towards a better
way of life and a higher stage of knowledge, the Tagalogs were persuaded by these deceitful
words. Moreover, the Spaniards agreed to follow and respect the customs of the people. Thus
occurred the Blood Compact between King Sikatuna and Miguel Lopez de Legazpi.
Unfortunately, Bonifacio said, for over 300 years while the Tagalogs kept their part of the
agreement by providing the Spaniards with their needs and by fighting in their wars, particularly
against the Chinese and the Dutch, the Spaniards did not keep their part of the agreement. Instead
of leading the Tagalogs to the path of knowledge, the Spaniards betrayed, corrupted, and
contaminated them and destroyed the Tagalog indigenous customs; they brought them up on
pretensions or false belief; and they pushed the country’s honor into the mire of wickedness.
Bonifacio held that a little affection which the Tagalogs asked for was answered with banishment
while the Spaniards considered a sigh heaved from the natives’ breast as a grave offense and was

2
immediately ferociously punished. Consequently, there was nothing stable in the lives of the
natives. Peace was disturbed by the moans, sighs, and grief of orphan, widows, and parents (of
those wronged or put to death by the Spaniards). Bonifacio argued that slavery enchained each
native, thereby debasing him. What then should the Tagalogs do? Reason dictates, according to
Bonifacio, that in the face of widespread suffering; increasing betrayals, insults, and slavery; and
the fact that the promised prosperity of the Spaniards was not forthcoming, the Tagalogs must
therefore rely on themselves and cease depending on others for existence. Moreover, they must
unite in sentiment, in thought, and in purpose in order to have sufficient strength to combat the
existing evils of the country and they must voluntarily dedicate all their strength to what is good
in order to succeed in what they wished for the land of their birth, viz., prosperity. Here lies the
crux of Bonifacio’s philosophy of revolution: the abundance and high literacy enjoyed by their
forebears would have to be restored or recovered by the present generation, the justification of
which was the Spaniards’ having reneged on the agreement between the two peoples embodied
in an oath symbolized by the Blood Compact.

CONTENT OF BONIFACIO’S TRANSLATION

The first stanza refers to a lost paradise (“kaluwalhatiang sa ami’y pumanaw”). Its first line
stresses the farewell theme of the whole poem. The second stanza expresses the author’s
(Rizal’s) willingness to sacrifice his life—be it sad and repressed (“lubhang malungkot”) or
resplendent and charming (“maringal man at labis alindog”)—for the welfare (“kagalingan”) of
his country. Stanzas 3 and 4 convey the willingness of others to sacrifice their lives without
qualms (“walang agam-agam”) for the redemption of their country.7 The fifth stanza imparts the
author’s recognition of his impending death at the time when the dawn (independence) is
approaching while the sixth stanza imparts his willingness to spill his blood, if need be, to
brighten the glow of dawn.8
In stanzas 7 and 8 the author conveys his desire since he was young that she (Motherland9)
be proclaimed (“tanghalin ka”) a gem of the Orient sea (“sa dagat Silangan hiyas na marikit”)
whose eyes are dry and whose forehead is held high—no wrinkles of suffering and no stain of
shame. The ninth stanza gives the message that in all the author’s life what he wanted
(“ninanasa-nasa”) and always had in mind (“laging gunita”) was to see the Motherland free from
suffering and shame (“guminhawa ka”). In the tenth stanza the author considers it a pleasure to
fall (“malugmok”) in order for the Motherland to arise (“matanghal”) and to die (“hininga’y
malagot”) for her to live (“mabuhay ka lamang”).
The next five stanzas (eleventh to fifteenth) portray the relationship between man and
nature, i.e., between, on the one hand, the author and, on the other hand, the flower and the
grasses, the moon, the dawn, the wind, the bird, the sun, and the raindrops. The author writes “If
on my tomb shall grow amid thick grasses a decent flower, let it touch your [Motherland’s] lips
and then kiss my soul; let the warmth of your breath and the waft of your sincere affection (‘pag-
giliw na tunay’) touch my brow underneath the cold grave; let the dawn bring forth the daybreak
(‘magalaw na sinag’) and the swift wind (‘hanging hagibis’); if in case a bird shall descend and
alight on my cross, let it sing a song of peace, and let the sun vaporize the raindrops to return to
the skies with my lamentation (‘pagdaing na hiyaw’).”
The sixteenth stanza deals with the author’s death and with prayers: “Let someone dear to
me cry over my early death and when one perchance may pray for me, pray also for my repose,
dear Motherland.” Stanzas seventeenth and eighteenth continue to request the Motherland to

3
pray for the hapless dead, the tormented, the poor mothers who have suffered, the widows, the
orphans, and the captives: “Pray too that they may see your own redemption (‘kalayaaan mong
ikagiginhawa’).” Stanzas nineteenth to twenty-second emphasize calm, serenity, and total
abandon: “If at night only the dead are left to vigil by themselves, never disturb the cemetery’s
serenity and its mystery; in case you hear the sounds of the guitar and the psaltery, it is I who
sing to you, dear Motherland; if no one remembers my grave anymore, if cross or stone marks
my grave no more, then let it be tilled by a hardworking man and let it be hoed and scattered;
before my bones shall melt and disappear, let your dust (‘alabok ng iyong latak’) be the sign they
have shared your place.”10 The twenty-third and twenty-fourth stanzas emphasize this feeling of
total abandon: “It does not matter if I [Rizal] be completely forgotten, for after all I will travel
your skies, streets, and firmaments; I will be a vibrant sound, light, hues, aroma, echo, sound,
song, and moan—the sincere hope of the faith I keep.”
The last four stanzas (twenty-fifth to twenty-eighth) impart the final farewell message to all:
“I am going to a place where there is no slave, tyrant, and hangman; where faith never fails
(‘Pananalig doo’y di nakasasagot’); where only God reigns. Farewell to my parents, brothers and
sisters, friends of my childhood, and sweet stranger; farewell, all my beloved: to die is to have a
light, short sleep.”

CRITIQUE

To translate is to render the meaning of a set of concepts in one language into a similar set
of concepts in another language. And the translation is difficult or easy depending on whether the
cultures of two different native speakers are similar or not, since language is culture bound.
According to some experts (Thorton and Whatmouth 1968), “Where the nonlinguistic cultures
are similar, translation can often be exact…But where cultures differ, translation is often
difficult.” A metaphorical way of interpreting the difficulty in perfectly translating a language of
one to another language of entirely different culture is to liken it to the act of “fitting in a
differently-shaped container with the solid contents of another container” (Gripaldo 1978:61),
while a different way of viewing a difficulty in translation is by focusing on linguistic structures.
As Agoncillo and Epistola (1963:iv) noted, “the structure of Tagalog is so different from that any
attempt at a literal translation would end in a farce, if not in a tragedy.”
Bonifacio devoted two stanzas to Rizal’s one stanza, i.e., Rizal’s “Ultimo adios” consists of
fourteen stanzas having five lines each while Bonifacio’s translation has twenty-eight stanzas of
four lines each. We may raise the question “Why?” If culture and linguistic structure pose some
translation difficulties, are these insurmountable in such a way that a Tagalog translation of
Rizal’s poem in just fourteen five-line stanzas is impossible? The answer, I think, is negative.
While it is true that during the time of King Sikatuna and Miguel Lopez de Legazpi, when they
made the “Pacto de Sangre,” their cultures were miles apart, this cultural distance had been
shortened—though very slowly and unsatisfactorily—for a period of more than three centuries so
that during the time of Bonifacio the cultural gap was not as wide as before: in fact, the Tagalog
language reflects this cultural change because in addition to Indian and Chinese linguistic
influences, it is further enriched by Spanish linguistic influences (Agoncillo and Guerrero
1970:31-33; Francisco 1971:10-12).11 Moreover , the Tagalogs, said Hester (1968), “served as
primary mediators of more than 500 years of Chinese, Spanish, and U.S. influence, selecting
from, interpreting, and adapting these foreign cultures to the basic Indo-Malayan social pattern.”
Hence the cultural barrier, albeit still wide, is surmountable. As regards the difference in

4
linguistic structures as indicated by the fact that Spanish is Indo-European whereas Tagalog is
Austronesian, this difference is something that endures forever. But as I (1978:60) argued
elsewhere:

Ideas and emotions are not among those (syntactic and phonemic structures)
which are tied down with any particular language. A language is simply a vehicle
for expressing ideas and emotions. When an idea is novel to the language in
question, a new word is coined for it.12

In other words, since what is to be translated in “Ultimo adios” are the ideas and emotions
therein, then despite the difference in linguistic structures, a translation of that poem into
Tagalog in just fourteen five-line stanzas should be possible. As a matter of fact, one has only to
examine the other Tagalog translations such as those of J. Cruz Balmaseda, Jose Corazon de
Jesus, Albino C. Dimayuga, Guillermo E. Tolentino, Santiago Y. Cuino, J. R. de Leon, Desiderio
Camacho, Nieves Baens del Rosario, Rufino Alejandro, Jose Villa Panganiban, Primo Arambulo,
Eduardo Padilla de Leon, Constancio Santos, Mar S. Yulip, and Vicente de Jesus (Surian
1962:17, 43, 48-49, 54-55) in order to see the unfolding of this possibility. Why then did
Bonifacio choose a poetic framework consisting of twenty-eight four-line stanzas? Is it a matter
of being arbitrary, or did he have a definite purpose?
The reason that may be forwarded for Bonifacio’s arbitrariness is that he was familiar with
the twelve-syllable quatrain as shown by the fact that all his poems were written in this poetic
form. But there is no logical reason why Bonifacio could not have experimented with a five-line
stanza. There is probable cause to think he decided to use twenty-eight four line stanzas not so
much for the sake of his own personal familiarity with the quatrain or of his own personal
convenience, but primarily because he was thinking of his audience. He was writing for the
masses and, therefore, he needed more freedom to elucidate Rizal’s message to them and at the
same time to present a poetic form that was familiar to them, i.e., in a twelve-syllable quatrain,
since the more familiar awits in currency at the time were in this poetic form, such as Florante at
Laura (Baltazar 1947:11-73) and Bernardo Carpio (n.d.:1-101).13 In terms of syllabication, the
original Spanish poem contains fourteen syllables per line (see Rizal 1958:401-402 and Bernad
1980:118); some English translations vary from ten to fourteen syllables per line;14 the
translation in local languages (other than Tagalog) and dialects likewise vary from twelve to
more than twenty syllables per line;15 and some Tagalog translations range from twelve to
eighteen syllables per line. All these translations have adopted the poetic format of fourteen five-
line stanzas. The Tagalog translation of Antonio Valeriano has fourteen stanzas but each stanza
contains ten twelve-syllable lines, whereas those of Bonifacio, Gatmaytan, Sevilla, and Poblete
have twenty-eight stanzas with each stanza having four twelve-syllable lines (Surian 1962:1-43,
48-49, 50-55). Logically, Valeriano’s format which allots two lines (twenty-four syllables) for
each line of the Spanish original is better than Bonifacio’s format, but apparently this does not
conform to Bonifacio’s perception of the poetic form he apparently believed familiar with the
masses. Gatmaytan, Sevilla, and Poblete seemed to have simply followed Bonifacio’s format.
Let me analyze four important stanzas of Bonifacio’s translation: 16

Spanish (stanza 5) lines

Ensueno de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo, a

5
!Salud! te grita el alma, que pronto va a partir b
!Salud! !ah, ques es hermoso caer por darte vuelo; c
Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo, d
Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir! e

English translation

My life’s fancy, my ardent, passionate desire, f

Hail! Cries out the soul to you, that will soon part from thee; g
Hail! How sweet ’tis to fall that fullness you may acquire; h
To die to give you life, ’neath your skies to expire, i
And in your mystic land to sleep through eternity! j

Bonifacio’s translation (stanzas 9,10)

Sa kabuhayang ko ang laging gunita k

Maningas na aking ninanasa-nasa l
Ay guminhawa ka ang hiyaw ng diwa m
Paghingang papanaw ngayong biglang-bigla. n

Ikaw’y guminhawa laking kagandahang o

ako’y malugmok, at ikaw ay matanghal, p
hininga’y malagot, mabuhay ka lamang q
bangkay ko’y masilong sa iyong kalangitan. r

Spanish (stanza 11)

Y cuando ya mi tumba, de todos olvidada, i

No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar, ii
Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada, iii
Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a la nada, iv
El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan a formar. v

English translation

And when my grave by all is no more remembered vi

With neither cross nor stone to mark its place, vii
Let it plowed by man, with spade let it be scattered viii
And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored, ix
Let them turn to dust to cover your earthly space. x

Bonifacio’s translation (stanzas 21,22)

Kung ang libingan ko’y limot na ang lahat xi

at wala ng krus at batong mabakas, xii
bayaang linangin ng taong masipag xiii

6
 lupa’y asarolin at kanyang ikalat. xiv

Ang mga buto ko ay bago matunaw xv

mauwi sa wala at kusang maparam, xvi
alabok ng iyong latak ay bayaang xvii
siya ang babalang doo’y makipisan. xviii

Notice how Bonifacio elucidated Rizal’s poem: stanza 9 is a translation of the first two lines
of stanza 5 of the Spanish original while stanza 10 is a translation of the last three lines. Notice
further that lines k and l convey the message of lines a and f. Line m (“ay guminhawa ka ang
hiiyaw ng diwa”) is the translation of “!Salud! te grita el alma” or “Hail! Cries out the soul to
you.” Line n translates “que pronto va a partir” (“that will soon part from thee”). It is interesting
to observe that line r seems to translate lines d and e or lines i and j; on closer scrunity, however,
it appears that Bonifacio simply dropped line e (or line j) from his translation such that lines o
and p translate line c or h and lines q and r translate line d or i. Bonifacio must have realized that
“la eternidad dormir” (“to sleep through eternity”) is inconsistent with his rendering of the last
line of the poem: “mamatay ay siyang pagkagupiling” (“to die is to have a light, short sleep”),
since to sleep eternally implies that there is no way of awakening (or coming back with vigor
after one’s sleep).
Notice also that stanza 21 translates the first three lines of stanza 11 of the Spanish original
and stanza 22 translates the last two lines. While line xi is a rendition of line i (or line vi ) and
line ii (or line vii ). Bonifacio added “masipag” on line xiii which is not in the Spanish original
and chose the Tagalog word “asarol” (hoe) rather than “pala” (spade) to translate “azada” (spade
or hoe). Quite interestingly, the English translators such as Elizabeth Pattens, Charles
Derbyshire, Nick Joaquin, Amado Yuzon, and Encarnacion Alzona used “spade” while the
Tagalog translators such as Bonifacio and Vicente de Jesus used asarol.”17 In stanza 22 “mga
buto” (bones) instead of “mga abo” (ashes) is used to translate “cenizas” (ashes).18
It is evident in his translation of Rizal that Bonifacio tried to capture the sympathy of the
masses for the Katipunan goal of Philippine independence by alluding to their everyday common
experiences so that they may join the revolutionary society, which at that time (1897)19 was
waging a revolutionnary war against the Spaniards. “Buto,” e.g., which is part of oneself, is more
meaningful in the experience of the masses than “abo” and “asarol” than “pala.”20 “Masipag” is a
meaningful trait that can be associated with the lowly farmer. This attempt at capturing the
people’s sympathy and consciousness for the overthrow of the Spanish government is best
shown in the last two lines of stanza 18 of Bonifacio’s translation:21

Spanish (stanza 9)

Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura;

Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual;
Por nuestras pobres madres, que gimen su amagura;
Por huerfanos y viudas, por presos en tortura,
Y ora por ti, que veas tu redencion final.

7
 English translation

Pray thee for all the hapless who have died,

For all those who unequalled torments have undergone;
For our poor mothers who in bitterness have cried;
For orphans, widows and captives to tortures were shied,
And pray too that you may see your own redemption.

Bonifacio’s translation (stanzas 17,18)

Idalanging lahat yaong nangamatay,

Nangagtiis hirap na walang kapalaran
mga ina naming walang kapalaran
na inahihibik ay kapighatian.

Ang mga bao’t pinapangulila,

Ang mga bilanggong nagsisipagdusa,
dalanginin namang kanilang makita
Ang kalayaan mong ikagiginhawa.

Why, we may ask, did Bonifacio mistranslate the last line of the Spanish original to “Pray
too that they may see your own redemption”? It is significant to note that the term “kanilang”
(“they”) as a deliberate mistranslation of the suppressed word “tu” (“you”) in “que veas” (“that
you see” or “that you may, will, shall see”) refers to the widows, the orphans, the tortured
prisoners, and the like. Bonifacio addressed his message to their relatives and friends, to
indifferent Filipinos, and to those who cared for the tormented so that they would rise up and let
those who are suffering see, while still living, the redemption of the Motherland. The original
Spanish is addressed only to the Motherland and the effect of this to the audience is quite
passive.
It is now clear that Bonifacio’s role as translator was only a façade of his role as a
revolutionary agitator. He was, however, pragmatic in the sense the he made use of some
selected ideas on subversion and revolution of reformers, particularly Jose Rizal whose Noli me
tangere and El filibusterismo, together with “Mi ultimo adios,” “The indolence of the Filipinos,”
and the annotations of Antonio Morga’s Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas, greatly influenced him.
He also made use of the everyday experiences of the common man. Furthermore, he availed
himself of the religious sentiments of the masses, sentiments derived from Christ’s pasyon (Ileto
1979:11-28, 103).22
To begin with, the term “eden” translated as “kaluwalhatian,” which connotes great
happiness and prosperity, was used by Rizal to refer to the pre-Spanish “better times,” which
through colonization was lost (“perdido”) and which to Bonifacio had to be regained. Also, the
concept of sacrificing oneself for somebody is a dominant theme of the pasyon as when Christ
sacrificed Himself for humanity and we likewise find this theme in the poem as when Rizal
sacrificed himself for the Motherland. Quite importantly, the mother-child relationship is very
meaningful to the masses since it is a lived out experience, that is, between one’s mother and
himself, and therefore a reference to such a relationship will touch the sensitivity of the masses,
the sensitivity that is nurtured through the pasyon, through the relationship between Christ and

8
His mother. It is but for a son (Rizal in this case) soon to die to bid farewell to his mother
(Motherland in this case) and his loved ones. Furthermore, the harmonious relationship between
man and nature in the poem represents that kind of relationship between man and nature before
the Fall of man. A person destined to die desires the harmony of paradise, the harmony between
him and nature where there is peace of mind. If Bonifacio rendered “descansar” (“rest”) or
(“pamamahinga”) as “pagkagupiling,” it seems largely because life on earth is temporary, a kind
of passage, and that there is something expected to happen after death: something like the
resurrection of oneself (as the soul rises to heaven), an idea inspired by the resurrection of Christ
in the pasyon. (“Pamamahinga” connotes that kind of rest one needs after working so hard while
“pagkagupiling” connotes the desire to have a peace of mind.) The whole point here is that
Bonifacio saw in “Mi ultimo adios” the religious dimension, among others, in the experience of
the masses. So he encouraged them to sacrifice their lives in order to recover the lost paradise, as
Christ did for humanity, and they must not fear death, for after all it is nothing but having a
“light, short sleep,” after which one can awaken again with vigor and zest (in an afterlife).

CONCLUSION

Bonifacio the agitator is inconsistent with Bonifacio the plebeian, that is to say, that he was
uneducated and poor, for it would be extremely difficult for one who is uneducated and can
hardly eat to play the role of an active agitator, or one who is active in politicizing the masses. In
spite of his having no higher formal education than primary schooling, Bonifacio had educated
himself informally. He had studied, for example,

…the Spanish translations of a book on the French Revolution, Eugene Sue’s The
Wandering Jew, Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo, The Ruins of
Palmyra, the Bible, Hugo’s Les Mesirables, International Law, the Penal and
Civil Codes, Lives of the Presidents of the United States, and a number of novels,
particularly the works of the Dumas, father and son. (Agoncillo 1956:106)

He was in other words an ilustrado.23 Unfortunately, he was not recognized as such by the
formally educated ilustrados themselves who looked down upon him as being “uneducated” and
“poor.” According to Agoncillo (1956:106), “They could not permit the economic and social
underdogs the luxury of forming a secret society, believing that this was the exclusive
prerogative of the ilustrado.” Looking at the background of the early katipuneros, however,
Guerrero (1981, 245-46) argues that one would realize that

…they did not belong to the lowest rung of Filipino society. The supremo
[Bonifacio] himself was educated and widely read…He found employment in
Pressel and Company, one of those foreign business houses in Manila which
became the nurturing ground for young Filipino workers and employees whose
entrepreneurial spirit would later make them men of status and influence.
Bonifacio’s associates were certainly not plebian (sic): Ladislao Diwa and
Teodoro Plata were clerks of court in Binondo and Quiapo respectively; the
former was a graduate of the University of Santo Tomas. Jose Turiano Santiago,
secretary of the first Katipunan supreme council, was a graduate of the same
university, and was an accountant and a business agent. Deodato Arellano and

9
 Roman Basa, prominent council members of the Katipunan were clerks in the
Spanish artillery corps and the Spanish naval headquarters, respectively. A close
associate of Bonifacio, Pio Valenzuela, who came from a principalia family of
Polo, Bulucan, was a medical student when he joined the secret society. Emilio
Jacinto, who is regarded as the “brains” of the Katipunan, graduated from the
Dominican-run Colegio de San Juan de Letran and then enrolled at the Pontifical
University. Moreover, he was the son of a prominent merchant (Guerrero
1981:245-46).24

To agitate politically is to stir or prepare people to pursue a course of political action, to

arouse political interest in them for something. Bonifacio was situationalist25 enough to have
carefully examined the situation whereby one can avail of all avenues that can lead to a
successful revolutionary agitation. First, Bonifacio recognized and adopted the view that the
revolutionary ideas of the intellectual elite like Rizal were important in agitation.26 Second, he
tried to exploit the religious experience of the masses, the influence of the pasyon of Christ
through their experience of the Holy Week which provided them with a “language for
articulating [their] own values, ideas, and even hopes of liberation” such that a revolution
appeared to them as a restoration of a “lost eden, the recovery of which demanded the people’s
participation in the pasyon of [the] Mother Country” (Ileto 1979, 5-16, 317).27 And third,
Bonifacio also took into consideration the plebeian personal political, social, and economic
travails in life in terms of Spanish and monastic oppression, cruelty, depravity, and exploitation,
among others. All three factors Bonifacio perceived to be present in “Mi ultimo adios.” In effect,
he would have said what someone (Guerrero 1981:241; see Schumacher 1982:462-63) had
tersely expressed: “[I]n the study of…Revolution…no single factor, motive, or group can
provide a satisfactory answer.”
The significance of Bonifacio the agitator lies in the implications of his agitational work:(1)
that the agitator is important in any revolutionary struggle; (2) that the masses, who experience
exploitation and sufferings, do not have a revolutionary framework; (3) that their misery and
sufferings are individual or separate facts or experiences which need a consistent and coherent
revolutionary framework; and (4) that unless an agitator brings this framework to the masses,
politicizes them, makes them aware of, for example, the lost paradise (the pre-Spanish better
times) that has to be regained or makes them realize there is a way out of their misery, then their
chances of joining a revolutionary society or group are negligible.

NOTES

1. First published in Kinaadman 9 (1987). The latest published version appeared in Filipino
philosophy: Traditional Approach, Part I, Sec. 1. (2009).
2. Originally this poem had no title but it came down to us, Leon Ma. Guerrero (1974:480)
said, “with the rather repetitious and unimaginative title of ‘My last farewell’.” Rizal’s friend,
Mariano Ponce (Alzona 1972:160), gave the poem that title. This translation is the only one
Bonifacio ever had.
3. The quatrian reads:

Ngalang “cazadores” hindi nadadapat

kundi “sacadores” ang ukol itawag

10
 bakit sa tanguay malayo at aguwat
mandi[n] halatan[g] matakaw at duwag[?]

The name “cazadores” is inappropriate

They should be called “sacadores” instead.
Why is it in Cavite, which is far and distant,
They’re still known as greedy and cowardly?

In the context, “sacadores” are those who choke people (sakal/sacal means to strangle).

4. Bad” in the sense of being inconsistent and illogical with his ideas or careless with his
choice of words.
5. The rime pattern is the same here: “paghihinay” and “paghihinang” rime because the
endings fall within the same group of consonants, the katinig na mahina, i.e., l, m, n, ng, r, w,
and y.
6. “Amateur” in the sense that Bonifacio was a beginner and that it is difficult to understand
why in “Tapunan ng Lingap” Bonifacio ended his poem of quatrains (nine stanzas) with a triplet
(tenth and last stanza). We cannot say that the poem is a poetic form like the sonnet or the
rondeau because it is just one and does not form a poetic tradition. Agoncillo (1956:335, n. 17)
considered Bonifacio a “mediocre writer—in the artistic sense.”
7. Agoncillo and Epistola (1963:78) had the last line of the fourth staanza read “yaon ay
gaon [?] din kung hiling ng Bayan.” The word “gaon” may have been a typographical error since
the entire context of the stanza seems to point to the word “gayon”—a version adopted by the
Surian ng Wikang Pambansa (1962:1) in their publication of Bonifacio’s “Pahimakas ni Dr. Jose
Rizal.”
8. This rendering may be interpreted to mean Rizal was anticipating that his death would
encourage the people all the more to fight for freedom and thus to hasten the advent of
independence.
9. Bonifacio translated Rizal’s “Patria” (“Fatherland”) as “Bayan” and I freely translate this
as “Motherland” because Bonifacio referred to his country as “Ina” or “Ynang Bayan” in his
other poems such as “Pagibig sa tinubuang bayan,” “Tapunan ng lingap,” and “Katapusang hibik
ng Pilipinas.”
10. The Surian ng Wikang Pambansa (1962:3) considered the word “latak” in “alabok ng
iyong latak” a spelling error and replaced it with the word “latag” which is closer to the original
Spanish meaning of “El polvo de tu alfombra.”
11. The best way to find the Spanish words that are incorporated into the Tagalog lexicon is
to consult Vito C. Santos (1978:1-2675), although many of these are of later adoption. And the
best way to have a glimpse of the cultural change is to read Rizal’s two novels.
12. Language is a living instrument of the person in order to express himself/herself. It was
originally invented by his/her ancestors but eventually it assumes a life of its own. It grows as
every individual comes into being and passes away. It is imbibed, modified, expanded, and left
behind by the individual. In a sense, it controls the person as he/she controls it. It submerges
him/her as he/she attempts to submerge it within his/her control. Some aspects of it are passive
while other aspects are active. Where the individual imbibes or accepts its embedded
conventional meanings as established by usage, language is passive, but where he/she uses it to
express new meanings, ideas, emotions, and relationships, then language is active. In one sense,

11
the person passively adopts aspects of his/her linguistic horizon and in another sense, he/she
actively appropriates, modifies, and transforms it into a living horizon of his/her own (cf. Linge
1976: xxviii-xxxiii).
13. The religious corrido, Pasyon Pilapil, has five lines per stanza with eight syllables per
line. Though widely read during the Holy Week, the Pasyon Pilapil was not as “current” as the
other two. Bonifacio and other Katipuneros, e.g., were very familiar with the story of Bernardo
Carpio (Ileto 1979:16-24, 127; Lumbera 1968:627-28).
14. See Echevarria 91960:1-8); Pattens (1934:8-9); Derbyshire (1958:214-21); Yuzon
(1933:6-7); Bray (1898:31-32); and Joaquin (1969:37-39). I deliberately count the measure in
terms of syllabus rather than in terms of poetic meters like the iambus, trochee, anapest, and
dactyl because the latter are not important in my analysis.
15. See Jalandoni 91969:1-2); Comision (1961:122-26); Tampuhan Nasudnon (1961:36-
37); Caro (1974:3); Pechay (1933:10-11); Yuson (1933:12-13); and Reyes (Osias Papers).
16. Stanzas 5 and 11 of the Spanish original are taken from Hernandez et al. (1958:401-
402); stanzas 5 and 11 of the English translation are lifted from Alzona (1972:161-62); and
stanzas 9, 10, 21, and 22 of the Tagalog translation are taken from Bonifacio, (Agoncillo and
Epistola 1963:79-80).
17. The other Tagalog translators simply avoided using “asarol” or “pala,” both of which
are derived from Spanish. To cite some examples: (a) Jose Gatmayan: “sa nangagbubukid ay
ipaubayang / bungkali’t isabog ang natiping lupa;” (b) Jose Corazon de Jesus: “Bayaan mong
kahit sino ay bungkalin itong lupa;” (c) Albino Dimayuga: “Ay pabayaan mong dukalin ng tao,
durugi’t ikalat;” (d) Guillermo Tolentino: “Bayaan mong bungkalin na’t isabog ng maglulupa’t;”
(e) G. Santiago Y. Cuino: “Hayaan mong araruhin, buhaghagin ng panghukay;” (f) Desiderio
Camacho: “Bayaang linangi’t makalat ang lupa;” (g) Rufino Alejandro: “Puntod ko’y bayaang
bungkali’t ikalat;” and (h) Jose Villa Panganiban: “Bayaang lupa’y bungkalin, durugin at
ikalatlat.” See Surian ng Wikang Pambansa (1962).
18. A number of Tagalog translators—Gatmaytan, Sevilla, Poblete, Balmaseda, J. C. de Jesus,
Dimayuga, Tolentino, Camacho, del Rosario, Alejandro, Panganiban, Arambulo, de Leon,
Alvero, Yulip, Valeriano, and V. de Jesus—used “abo” or “mga abo” to mean “remains of the
dead” (see Surian ng Wikang Pambansa 1962) in the same manner in which English
translators—Pattens, Yuzon, Joaquin, Bray, Derbyshire, and Alzona—used “ashes” to mean
“remains of the dead.” “Mga abo” is therefore a more accurate translation of “cenizas” than
“mga buto.”
19. Jose Rizal was executed on 30 December 1896 and Bonifacio by this time was already
in Cavite. According to Santiago Alvarez (1992, 71), the Rizals (Trinidad, Paciano, and
Josephine) let Bonifacio see the farewell poem, which after some time Bonifacio translated into
Tagalog. See in this connection, Quibuyen (1998, 64-67).
20. If one is translating for an intellectual audience, then it will not matter if he uses “spade” or
“hoe” for “azada,” although the English translators I have mentioned were inclined to use
“spade.” If, on the other hand, one is translating for the masses—in particular, for the peasants—
then the term “asarol” is more meaningful than the term “pala.” It cannot be legitimately argued
that Bonifacio merely wanted to satisfy the dodecasyllabic poetic measure because the original
“Lupa’y asarolin at kanyang ikalat” can be rendered “Lupa ay palahin at kanyang ikalat” with
the same twelve syllables retained. Vicente de Jesus, a contemporary poet, was translating for an
educated audience but, unlike the English translators, he was inclined to use “asarol.”

12
 21. Stanza 9 of the Spanish original is lifted from Hernandez et. al. (1958:402); stanza 9 of
the English translation is from Alzona (1972:162); while stanza 17 and 18 of the Tagalog
translation are from Bonifacio (1963:79). All italics mine.
22. According to Ileto (1979:16), it is the Pasyong Pilapil (first published in 1814) that was
the most common text used in nineteenth-century pabasa, or pasyon readings.” See Schumacher
(1982:459).
23. An illustrado is an educated individual or an intellectual. Generally, one becomes an
ilustrado through formal education. Bonifacio was an educated man, although his education was
through an informal way. Mere reading of books does not make one an ilustrado because he may
still not be educated. There was, however, nothing in Bonifacio’s circumstances that showed he
had not educated himself. He had instructed himself in Spanish; had written an essay and some
poems, and his having read a lot of books (by the standard of his time) confirmed his being an
educated person. As Dr. Valenzuela told Daniel Tirona: “I know, Don Daniel, that you are more
educated than Don Andres, but when it comes to the history of revolutions, I think that you have
yet to read all the books that he has read on the subject before you can successfully defend your
side.” An ilustrado may come from a wealthy or a poor family. Apolinario Mabini was one
ilustrado who came from a poor family. Bonifacio was another. See Majul (1977:1, 12; 1964:10-
12); Agoncillo (1956:75); and Schumacher (1982:449-50).
24. See in this connection, Ileto (1982:106), Fast and Richardson (1979:67-74), and
Quibuyen (1998:36-37).
25. An extensive treatment of the situationalist philosophy is found in Gripaldo’s
Circumstantialism (1977:1-144).
26. Majul (1967:14-15, 17, 38) believed that it was through the ideas of the intellectual
elite, who articulated the thoughts of the masses, that the masses involved themselves in the
revolution.
27. In this sense, Bonifacio was a precursor of Ileto’s (1979:13) view on the pasyon as
having “latent meanings that can be revolutionary.” In fact, Rizal possibly may have also been
thinking along this line. See Schumacher (1982:459-60).

REFERENCES

Agoncillo, Teodoro A. 1956. The revolt of the masses. Quezon City: University of the
Philippines.
________ and S. V. Epistola. 1963. The writings and trial of Andres Bonifacio. Manila: Manila
Bonifacio Centennial Commission.
________ and Milagros C. Guerrero. 1970. History of the Filipino people. Quezon City: R. P.
Garcia Publishing Co.
Alvarez, Santiago. 1992. The Katipunan and the revolution: Memoirs of a Filipino general.
Translated by Paula Carolina S. Malay. Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press.
Alzona, Encarnacion, trans. 1972. Rizal’s poems. Vol. 3, Bk 1. Manila: National Historical
Commission.
Arendt, Hannah. 1963. On revolution. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, Ltd.
Baltazar, Francisco. 1947. Florante at Laura. Edited by Rosario Bella Gana. Manila: Philippine
Book Company.
Bernad, Miguel A. 1980. The nature of Rizal’s farewell poem. Kinaadman 2.
Bernardo Carpio. n.d. Manila: Juliana Martinex.

13
Bonifacio, Andres, trans. 1962. Pahimakas ni Dr. Jose Rizal. In Mga salin sa Tagalog ng Ultimo
adios ni Dr. Jose Rizal. Manila: Surian ng Wikang Pambansa.
Caro, Adolfo. 1974. Huring paaram ko. The New Bicol Post, 20 December.
Comision Nacional. 1961. Mga balak ni Jose Rizal.Manila: Comision Nacional sa Centenario ni
Jose Rizal.
Derbyshire, Charles. 1958. My last farewell. In College anthology of Rizal’s works. Edited by
Jose Ma. Hernandez, et al. Manila: R. P. Garcia Publishing Co.
Bray, Howard W. 1898. My last thoughts. In Biography of Dr. Jose Rizal by Ferdinand
Blumentritt. Translated by H. W. Bray. Singapore: Kelley and Walsh, Limited.
Echevarria, Ramon. 1960. Rizal’s Ultimo adios. Makati: Century Publishing Co., Ltd.
Fast, Jonathan and Jim Richarson. 1979. Roots of dependency. Quezon City: Foundation for
Nationalist Studies.
Francisco, Juan R. 1971. The Philippines and India. Manila: National Book Store, Inc.
Gripaldo, Rolando M. 1977. Circumstantialism. Dumaguete City: Silliman University press.
________. 1978. Language and its philosophical presuppositions. Mindanao Journal 5.
________. 2009. Filipino philosophy: Traditional approach, Part I, Sec. 1. Quezon City: C & E
Publishing, Inc.
Guerrero, Leon Ma. 1974. The first Filipino. Manila: National Historical Commission.
Guerrero, Milagros C. 1981. Understanding Philippine revolutionary mentality. Philippine
Studies 29.
Ileto, Reynaldo C. 1979. Pasyon and revolution. Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University
Press.
________. 1982. Critical issues in “Understanding Philippine revolutionary mentality.”
Philippine Studies 30.
Jalandoni, Magdalena J. 1969. Ang katapusan ko nga paalam. Jaro: n.p.
Joaquin, Nick. 1969. The valedictory poem.In The song of Maria Clara and other poems of Jose
Rizal. Manila: Alberto S. Florentino.
Linge, David E., trans. and ed. 1976. Introduction. In Philosophical hermeneutics. By Hans-
Georg Gadamer. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Lopez, Honorio. 1912. Ang tunay na buhay ni P. Dr. Jose Burgos. Manila: J. Martinez.
Lumbera, Bienvenido. 1968. Assimilation and synthesis (1700-1800); Tagalog poetry in the
eighteenth century. Philippine Studies 16.
Majul, Cesar Adib. 1964. Apolinario Mabini: A revolutionary. Manila: National Heroes
Commission.
________. 1967. The political and constitutional ideas of the Philippine revolution. Quezon
City: University of the Philippine Press.
________. 1977. Principales, ilustrados, intellectuals, and the original concept of a Filipino
national community. Asian Studies 15.
Pattens, Elizabeth. 1934. Last farewell. In Rizal’s “Ultimo adios” in European languages.
Edited by Pablo Lazlo. Manila: Libreria “Manila Filatelica.”
Pechay, Leon C. 1933. Maudi a pakada. In Rizal’s “Ultimo pensamiento” and translations.
Compiled by A. M. Yuson. Manila: Carbungco Chef and Caterer.
Quibuyen, Floro C. 1998. A nation aborted—Rizal, American hegemony, and Philippine
nationalism. Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press.
Reyes, Vicente Salas. n. d. Mi ultimo adios (an Aklanon translation). Camilo Osias Papers,
National Library, Manila.

14
Rizal, Jose. 1958. Ultimo adios. In College anthology of Rizal’s works. Edited by Jose Ma.
Hernandez et al. Manila: R. P. Garcia Publishing Co.
Santos, Vito C. 1978. Filipino-English Dictionary. Manila: National Book Store, Inc.
Schumacher, John, S.J. 1982. Recent perspectives on the revolution. Philippine Studies 30.
Surian ng Wikang Pambansa. 1962. Mga salin sa Tagalog ng Ultimo adios ni Dr. Jose Rizal.
Manila: Surian ng Wikang Pambansa.
Tampuhan Nasudnon. 1961. Katapusan nga panamilit.In Mga siday ni Jose Rizal. Manila:
Tampuhan Nasudnon ha Pagsaurog han Gatos na Pagtagmo ni Jose Rizal.
Women in the revolution (Marina Dizon y Bartolome, Espiridiona Bonifacio y de Castro, and
Jospehine Bracken). 1997. The Philippine Journal of Education 76.
Thorton, John L. and Joshua Whatmouth. 1968. Encyclopaedia Britannica. S.v. Language.
Yuson, Amado M. 1933. Tauling pamisip. In Rizal’s “Ultimo pensamiento” and tranlations.
Compiled by A. M. Yuzon. Manila: Carbungco Chef and Caterer.
Yuzon, Alzona M. 1933. Rizal’s parting thought. In Rizal’s “Ultimo pensamiento” and
translations. Compiled by A. M. Yuzon. Manila: Carbungco Chef and Caterer.

15