Magno, Angela Gael M.

May 08, 2019

1 AB PSY Ms. Bianca Claveria

Bonifacio as the Sorcerer’s Apprentice

Review of Nick Joaquin’s Bonifacio in A Question of Heroes

Andres Bonifacio. One has encountered this name at least once in their lives. It may be
during November, where his name has been attached to its final day to be remembered and
commemorated. Or perhaps on the ten peso coin, where two figures seem to be battling for
space in the yellow center, and if one was a curious child, one would try to look closely at the
names engraved next to the figures’ heads. And most likely of all, it may be during a lecture in
sixth grade HEKASI, where one would usually first learn the basics of Philippine history.

We have known him for a long time now, have seen him countless of times in
monuments, paintings, and pictures. We know him as the fearless leader of the Katipunan,
always dawning the classic white camisachino and kundiman pants, bolo in hand, and face
warped in eternal charge. We celebrate his revolution and enjoy his non-working holiday, but
do we really know Bonifacio’s role in Philippine history beyond the edited version created for
general patronage? How much do we really know of the Supremo?

Well, both historians and history enthusiasts say not much. Though historians are
known for their extensive aptitude in arguing, one thing they can agree upon is the sparsity of
sources on Bonifacio and the Katipunan. Several have attempted to write his history, painted
him as the “Great Plebeian”, fighting the fight of the masses, and so on. And among the
historians and authors who’ve stuck their bets on who Bonifacio was and is to this day, is Nick
Joaquin, the focus of this paper and whose take on the venerated revolutionary generated much
controversy.

Nick Joaquin is a well-known figure in the Philippine literary scene. Revered as one of
the most distinguished Filipino writers in English and writing about various aspects of the
Filipino, he was awarded the title of National Artist of the Philippines for Literature in 1976. 1
Joaquin regarded himself as a “cultural apostle”, whose purpose is to revive interest in
Philippine national life through literature as well as provide the drive and inspiration for a fuller
comprehension of their cultural background.2 With all of this considered, it is no wonder the
writer and journalist took interest in writing about our history, beyond the fictional realm. In
his book A Question of Heroes, Joaquin poses unprecedented questions on ten key figures in
Philippine history, one of which is Bonifacio. His take provided fresh new perspectives on our
Filipino heroes that, ultimately, humanizes them in our eyes. Focusing on Bonifacio’s chapter
entitled “Why Fell the Supremo?”, Joaquin not only explores Andres Bonifacio’s character as
a man and as a Katipunero, as the title suggests, he also delves into the events leading up to
Andres Bonifacio’s tragic—but perhaps expected—death.3

Joaquin’s being a literary writer shows as he often uses analogies and fictional
situations to better deliver his arguments. Here, he uses the tale of the Sorcerer and the
Apprentice, assigning Rizal as the former and Bonifacio as the latter.4 It is through this book

1
“Order of National Artists: Nick Joaquin,” National Commission for Culture and the Arts.
2
Yaptenco, C. “A Critical Study of Nick Joaquin’s Prose and Poems” (Master’s thesis, 1959).
3
Nick Joaquin, “Why Fell the Supremo?” in A Question of Heroes, (Mandaluyong City: Anvil Publishing,
2005), 86-108. (herein after cited as Why Fell the Supremo?)
4
Why Fell the Supremo? 87

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was it first introduced the idea that the revolution in 1896 was not of Bonifacio’s or the
Caviteños, that the entire period from the Propaganda Movement to the Philippine-American
War was none other than the “Revolution of the Ilustrados”. 5 Joaquin describes how the
Ilustrados had provided the Revolution with its capital of ideas and ideals in the form of Rizal’s
writing urging the creation of a national consciousness6, the writings of one Burgos, Del Pilar,
and Lopez-Jaena inflaming the national temper to the point that revolution became inevitable.
He illustrates the Ilustrados as the Sorcerers, having assembled all the ingredients and waiting
for the right time to set the brew boiling. Then Bonifacio as the Apprentice, ambitious and
impatient, starting the brew without the Sorcerer’s permission, adding his own ingredients, and
stirring the mixture until an explosion occurs and the Sorcerer awakes to find his cave on fire.
According to Joaquin, Bonifacio and his Katipunan was the explosion that obstructed the
Ilustrado’s revolution for it was premature and proved to be in vain.

However, the failure of the Katipunan in the raiding the powder house in San Juan and
laying siege to Manila was only the first explosion, according to Joaquin. It was Bonifacio’s
first, stymieing the already progressing Ilustrado revolution, but it would not be his last. His
next explosion would be the one to doom Bonifacio to his ill fate—but before this, the author
changes gears and takes aim at the Supremo’s past and character. Joaquin describes two phases
of Bonifacio’s character: the Bonifacio in Manila and the Bonifacio in Cavite.7

The Bonifacio in Manila is the one we know better: the father of the Katipunan, the
initiator of the revolt, whose words and ferocity drew in thousands upon thousands of Filipinos
to join his revolution. But more than that, Joaquin draws his life before the Katipunan, describes
an orphaned boy forced to become the breadwinner at 14, supporting his siblings by working
odd jobs like making and selling paper fans and bamboo canes. Sounding awfully similar to
contemporary stories of the common Filipino, it is no wonder that Bonifacio was christened
with the title Great Plebeian or envisioned to represent the peasants and common Filipinos.
However, this image is broken as Joaquin reveals certain facts about Bonifacio. His former
patrons described him as a voracious reader. He worked as a bodeguero to an important family,
then as a clerk to a foreign-owned company. He practiced Spanish, read Dumas and
Propagandist writings, afforded to join the Masons.8 Though not as lavishly learned as Rizal,
there is much proof that Bonifacio was still very much educated. Yet this was not enough,
Bonifacio yearned for the room at the top, and it will be this ambition, according to Joaquin,
that will get him there and, eventually, push him off.

The author then introduces us to the Bonifacio in Cavite. Within more of less than a
week, Bonifacio’s revolution, the so-called “proletariat revolution” had collapsed. Bonifacio
may be an excellent organizer, an inspiring speaker, a charismatic leader, but he is not a military
leader, Joaquin says.9 He then says that from this point on, every decision Bonifacio made has
sealed him to the path towards his death. Upon failing to raid the power house in San Juan and
laying siege to Manila, the Katipunan fled to Balara and later on to Cavite, where news of
Aguinaldo’s success in the first line of defense spread. In Cavite, they had been able to reclaim
5
Why Fell the Supremo? 88
6
Schumacher, John S. S.J., “Chapter 6: The Noli Me Tangere as Catalyst of Revolution,” in The Making of a
Nation: Essays on 19th Century Philippine Nationalism, (Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press,
1991), 91-101.
7
Why Fell the Supremo? 93
8
Richardson, Jim, “Appendix A: Notes on the Katipunan in Manila, 1892-1896,” The Light of Liberty:
Documents and Studies on the Katipunan, 1892-1897, (Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 2013),
416. (herein after cited as Appendix A)
9
Why Fell the Supremo? 97

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certain cities in Cavite, make fortifications, gather armies, and create a military hierarchy of
generals and leaders, while Bonifacio’s Katipunan had failed miserably in their first attack.
Joaquin emphasizes in this chapter that Bonifacio’s revolution of the Katipunan is, in fact,
different from the Caviteños’ revolution. One lasted a week while the other went on for the
next five years.

Seeing the rather hilarious difference in terms of success rate, it is no wonder that the
Caviteños considered themselves separate from the Katipunan and raised suspicion towards
Bonifacio, a Manileño, who strode into their base—“as if like a king” Joaquin says—expecting
to hold the same power and position he had in Manila and in the Katipunan that had so dismally
failed. The fact of the matter was, unbeknownst to Bonifacio, he had renounced his position
and power to moment he and his people lost in San Juan and fled to Cavite and to the eyes of
the Caviteños, he was no more than another refugee from Manila. Bonifacio had taken the
invitation to the Imus Assembly as an invitation to capture the Caviteño revolution and soon,
it would cost him his life.10

Joaquin frames the last five months of Bonifacio’s life into five final acts of a hero’s
tragedy. The first act ends with the Imus Assembly where instead of arriving with humility and
even the most basic of manners, Bonifacio arrives, chin high and assumptions of authority on
his sleeves, as he automatically takes the presiding chair in the assembly to the scorn and
amusement of the Magdalo. Act two displays Bonifacio’s failure in his mission. Instead of
trying to unite the two factions of Magdalo and Magdiwang in order to fight a larger, more
powerful opponent and proving wrong the suspicions against him, he had instead antagonized
the Magdalo, increasing their suspicions of each other to the point that neither groups would
come to the aid of the other in the field. Thus, government troops advanced further into Cavite.
Act three occurs in the Tejeros Convention, our first election. Despite the convention being
dominated by Magdiwang, the Supremo still lost. Though Emilio Aguinaldo was of the
Magdala, the Magdiwang still chose him over Bonifacio, or rather, the Magdiwang chose
Cavite. So, in a way, Bonifacio had managed to unite the two factions, after all, with the
possibility of an outsider ruling over them, the two suddenly fused forces against Bonifacio,
leaving him exiting the election hall crying fraud.11

Act four finds Bonifacio embittered, in-denial, and plunging to his doom. After being
humiliated in the Tejeros convention, he leaves the Cavite revolt, openly defies Aguinaldo’s
orders and authorities, and tries to create a rival revolutionary army, recruiting by force, if
necessary. When Aguinaldo catches him plotting with two other generals in his army,
Aguinaldo finally ordered for his arrest, where Bonifacio is taken to Naic for trial. And the
final act, the trial and execution of Andres Bonifacio. After proven guilty of trying to overthrow
the government, the court-martial requested for the death penalty and Aguinaldo, displaying
admirable magnanimity, changed it to indefinite banishment. However, a group of ex-
henchmen and Bonifacio’s own conspirators asked to withdraw the pardon and allow the
execution. Thus, on the morning of May 10, 1897, Bonifacio, along with his brother, a
conspirator, was taken up to the mountains and shot.12 And thus ends, at barely 34 years old,
the tale of the Great Supremo, slaughtered at the hands of his very own countrymen, a tragedy
which sprang and fostered by the hero’s own character.

10
Why Fell the Supremo? 98-101
11
Why Fell the Supremo? 98
12
Why Fell the Supremo? 99

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 Joaquin’s prose is undeniably compelling and, save for a few hifalutin words here and
there, relatively easy to read; a combination often difficult to find in history books. At first read,
almost any reader would be swept away and nodding to every statement and argument the
author presents in this chapter and consequently, the entire book. Nevertheless, one must
always remember that history, though in the past, continues to evolve through the emergence
of different perspectives or possibly new evidences as time goes by. In the field of history,
almost nothing is set in stone, and no person could ever write history perfectly. With that said,
despite thoroughly enjoying Joaquin’s chapter on Bonifacio, there are some aspects which are
more or less disagreeable or argued otherwise by more contemporary authors.

One would notice that this particular chapter mainly focused on the fall of Andres
Bonifacio, which would then imply a rather negative or dark tone. However, the portrayal of
Bonifacio seems to be in an overly negative light, and, sometimes, close to derogatory. Joaquin
does this by using strong words and statements such as calling Bonifacio a “lowborn”,
describing him to have “the insecurity of the poor”, and suggesting that the only reason he is
revered today is due to a collective sense of racial guilt.13 And though one can simply reason
out it is only for the sake of argumentation, it can seem to be used one too many times.
Especially, statements about Bonifacio’s socioeconomic status which Joaquin claims to be
plebeian or proletarian. Joaquin then describes him as “the poor boy from Tondo” when he
faced the Caviteños, proposing that perhaps the reason for Bonifacio’s behavior in the Imus
Assembly and consequently, the Tejeros Convention was that he did not belong not only within
the lines of the Caviteños, but amidst the class of the bourgeoisie.14

Joaquin also described the Katipunan as proletarian, thus their uprising was a
proletarian movement, “a revolt of the masses” 15 and it was this revolt that ruined the
“Revolution of the Ilustrados”. However, more contemporary authors argue that Bonifacio and
majority of the Katipunan are, in fact, considerably ilustrados. Gripaldo argues that “ilustrado”
merely means one who has acquired a good education—formally or informally. He also argues
that to use ilustrado to refer to intellectuals who were formally educated and was able to study
abroad, thus connoting only elite, moneyed individuals—which is similar to how Joaquin has
defined ilustrado at the beginning—is discriminatory.16 Evidence has also emerged to show
that more than majority of the members of the Katipunan are actually of the middle class and
educated, with none of the members recorded so far working as a worker or laborer.17 Among
other authors who support this argument is Schumacher, who describes Bonifacio as a “self-
made ilustrado” and says that anyone reading Les miserables, History of the French Revolution,
and the Lives of the American Presidents is clearly an educated man.18

This alone, though we know what he meant, has put into question Joaquin’s entire idea
of “Revolution of the Ilustrados.”

13
Why Fell the Supremo? 93
14
Why Fell the Supremo? 105
15
Why Fell the Supremo? 104
16
Gripaldo, Rolando M, “Reflections on Bonifacio’s Philosophy of Revolution,” Translated by Ma. Crisanta
Nelmida, In Filipino Philosophy: Traditional Approach, (Quezon City: Trinitas Publishing, 2004).
17
Appendix A, 416
18
Schumacher, John S. S.J., “Chapter 13: Recent Perspectives on the Revolution,” The Making of a Nation:
Essays on the 19th Century Philippine Nationalism, (Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 2013),
178-209

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 Moving on, as mentioned before, the narrative of the chapter seemed to only regard
Bonifacio in a negative light, barely brushing over the Bonifacio “before” Cavite or before the
failure in San Juan. This, of course, could be attributed to the title of this chapter and therefore
accomplishes and delivers the message it wanted to give, however, it would be even more
beneficial to the reader if a quick overview of how Bonifacio successfully compelled thousands
and thousands of people to join in his revolution. Though historians and writers would disagree,
Agoncillo believes that the writings of Andres Bonifacio, though brute and rough, succeeded
in winning the people to his side.19
A Question of Heroes, as the title implies, has the agenda to question the character of
each of the chosen 10 Filipino key figures in our history, thus, it could be safe to say that the
author could have been susceptible to a subconscious bias to interpret the aforementioned
figure in a negative light or nit-pick at their character. Furthermore, it is also worthy to
remember that Nick Joaquin is more of a writer and journalist than an actual historian.

One of the most memorable and probably effective moments in History class wherein
everyone was paying attention and engaged was when the teacher juxtaposed Rizal Day and
Bonifacio Day, and then proceeded to somewhat give little trivias that cleared or completely
destroyed pre-existing misconceptions about Bonifacio and history in general. Goes to show
how students love and become really interesting in learning something they did not already
know before. And what better way to re-introduce historical figures we’ve known and studied
for so long in a new, harsher, yet more honest light? Plus, as mentioned before, compelling
content and agreeable prose is difficult to come by in history books, but it is books like these
or like those of Ambeth Ocampo’s which can encourage a whole new generation of Filipinos
to take interest in learning about our own history.
Furthermore, the chapter, and even the entire book, can become an effective way not
only to introduce students to these key figures in Philippine history, but also engage them to
think critically and appraise the ones whom they call heroes, especially when one as valiant
and venerated as Bonifacio is suddenly perceived in this low, dimming light. There is already
so scarce information and sources on Andres Bonifacio, and all the more to the common mind
who only knows the Bonifacio of the first part, the Bonifacio in Manila, the Supremo, father
of the Katipunan. Meanwhile, the latter Bonifacio, that in Cavite, is more lacklustre,
disappointing, aggravating, temperamental, insecure, and, ultimately, human.
The more we realize and accept that the heroes we look up to and idolize from the past
are merely humans, the same as we are, the more critical we are of our own idols now. The
more we can look to our idols, authorities, people in power, and question their character, the
more we ask ourselves, “who is worthy to be called a ‘hero’?” However, also beyond that, we
learn to be more forgiving and empathetic because at the end of the day, we are all human. May
it serve as both a reminder and a comfort.

Word count: 2,985 words

19
Agoncillo, Teodoro, “Anti-Spanish Writings: Andres Bonifacio,” In Filipino Nationalism: 1872-1970,
(Quezon City Publishing, 1974). 196-207

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References:

Bonifacio, Andres. “What the Filipino Should Know.” In Teodoro Agoncillo, Filipino
Nationalism: 1872-1970, pp. 196-206. Quezon City: RP Garcia Publishing, 1974.

Gripaldo, Rolando M. “Reflections on Bonifacio's Philosophy of Revolution.” Translated by

Ma. Crisanta Nelmida. In Filipino Philosophy: Traditional Approach, edited by
Ferdinand C. Llanes. 3rd ed. Quezon City: Trinitas Publishing, 2004.

Joaquin, Nick. “Why Fell the Supremo?” A Question of Heroes, pp. 86-108. Mandaluyong:
Anvil Publishing, Inc., 2005.

“Order of National Artists: Nick Joaquin.” National Commission for Culture and the Arts.
https://ncca.gov.ph/about-culture-and-arts/culture-profile/national-artists-of-the-
philippines/nick-joaquin/

Richardson, Jim. “Appendix A: Notes on the Katipunan in Manila, 1892-1896.” The Light of
Liberty: Documents and Studies on the Katipunan, 1892-1897, pp. 399-415. Quezon
City: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 2013.

Schumacher, John S. S.J. “Chapter 6: The Noli Me Tangere as Catalyst of Revolution.” The
Making of a Nation: Essays on 19th Century Philippine Nationalism, pp. 91-101.
Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 1991.

Schumacher, John S. S.J. “Chapter 13: Recent Perspectives on the Revolution.” The Making
of a Nation: Essays on 19th Century Philippine Nationalism, pp. 178-209. Quezon City:
Ateneo de Manila University Press, 1991.

Yaptenco, C. “A Critical Study of Nick Joaquin’s prose and poems” (Master’s thesis). 1959.
Retrieved from Rizal Library’s OPAC (rlo. 800054).

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