The Indolence of Rizal
Essays for de los filipinos.
I don’t know about you, but for most of my life, I never got the Rizal fixation.
“The pen is mightier than the sword,” everyone nobly quotes, and “he who does not love his own language is worse than a smelly fish,” of course. Nonetheless, in my fifteen-year-old, somewhat-a-bookworm opinion, Noli Me Tangere was an okay novel, but it wasn’t worthy of any special distinction.
I mean, I thought it was important for the impact that it had on the revolution. However, fifteen-year-old me believed that the one novel series decreed by law into a required study for all youth across the country was supposed to be good. These were my thoughts as one in the rare, endangered breed of students that actually read the books prescribed for the school year (as long as there was an English version. Yes, I was worse than a smelly fish D:) and generally enjoyed the readings, too.
Not so for Rizal’s titular novel. Touch Me Not, I sorely decided, is an appropriate label. Long-winded descriptions, deluges of detail, and endless walls of text? Ughhh. No, thank you. I’d rather not touch Noli Me Tangere.
So you see, I formed a pretty poor opinion of Rizal’s fiction.
For years, I let that opinion prevail — and spread it to others, from family to friends. In Grade 9, my high school watched an astounding musical production of El filibusterismo, but I didn’t bother with the book. Instead, when I wasn’t chatting up friends or brooding on my teenage angst, I spent my days reading nonfiction or swimming in the sea of tropey fan fiction. (High literature, I know.)
Eventually, tired of the repetitive reads and ungated quality of internet-published fiction, I turned to recognized literature. I was on the cusp of nineteen, enjoying free classics on Apple Books when I saw the words The Indolence of the Filipino — José Rizal printed in plain white text on a nondescript gray book cover. Curious, I tapped that gray book cover and gave it a go.
I’d been converted.
Rizal was a GENIUS, a luminary, and a fantastic writer.
Just, more so in essays than in fiction.
(Fifteen-year-old me is still sore.)
In fact, as I devoured the series of essays, I wondered why I’ve barely heard of The Indolence of the Filipino before. I can vaguely recall its original Spanish title being mentioned in an elementary history textbook, but that’s it. I have certainly never heard of anyone reading The Indolence, much less singing its praises. Why? Can the lack can be owed to the essay series’ unfortunate title? The Laziness of Filipinos? That seemingly derogatory string of words that threatens to disparage our heritage and bruise our egos?
As someone with a touchy ego, I can testify: That’s not what I felt at all.
“…an evil which instead of being remedied by prudence, mature reflection and recognition of the mistakes made, through deplorable policy, through regret, table blindness and obstinacy, has gone from bad to worse until it has reached the condition in which we now see it.”
— José Rizal, The Indolence of the Filipino
Sobre la indolencia de los filipinos (1890), translated by Charles Derbyshire to The Indolence of the Filipino, is a series of essays written by Dr. José Rizal and published over multiple installments in La Solaridad. In a time where people were either blaming Filipinos as indolent (meaning ‘inclined towards laziness’) or arguing that they weren’t indolent, Rizal’s was the clear, honest voice.
“We must confess that indolence does actually and positively exist there…”
— José Rizal, The Indolence of the Filipino
Ouch?
“…only that, instead of holding it to be the cause of the backwardness and the trouble, we regard it as the effect of the trouble and the backwardness.”
— José Rizal, The Indolence of the Filipino
Ah, yes. Much more palatable.
Ribbing aside, Rizal does not absolve anyone of responsibility. He calls out the Spanish colonizers on their abuses, but he also calls on his kababayan to own their faults. Furthermore, he is not content to name the problem and immediately prescribe a treatment. The doctor diverges: To cure a disease, one must first examine its causes.
“How is it strange, then, that discouragement may have been infused into the spirit of the inhabitants of the Philippines, when in the midst of so many calamities they did not know whether they would see sprout the seed they were planting, whether their field was going to be their grave or their crop would go to feed their executioner?”
— José Rizal, The Indolence of the Filipino
Climate and circumstance, history and hardship. Sobre la indolencia de los filipinos is a piercing examination of how and why the indolent attitude developed. As a reader in the present, you’ll find that it’s not only applicable to the Filipinos of the past. Despite the decades — nay — centuries that have come and gone, many of Rizal’s words are still so accurate at describing Filipinos today.
“All the Filipinos, as well as all those who have tried to engage in business in the Philippines, know how many documents, what comings, how many stamped papers, how much patience is needed to secure from the government a permit for an enterprise. One must count upon the good will of this one, on the influence of that one, on a good bribe to another… a great deal of politics, many salutations, great influence, plenty of presents and complete resignation! How is it strange that, the Philippines remain poor in spite of their very fertile soil…?”
— José Rizal, The Indolence of the Filipino
Doesn’t it resonate? Doesn’t it rankle? Isn’t the fact that we haven’t changed from what Rizal observed a cause for despair? This isn’t right. We must grow. We must be made aware of our faults so that we can correct them. We must become more.
“Without education and liberty, that soil and that sun of mankind, no reform is possible, no measure can give the result desired.”
— José Rizal, The Indolence of the Filipino
That is why, from one youth to another or one student to students, readers, and teachers, I am convinced that every Filipino who has a grasp of the written word should take up The Indolence of the Filipino. Let the scales fall; let enlightenment come. Unlike the novels, it’s not a long work. Just 60 or so pages of thought-provoking, conscience-awakening, and nationalism-inspiring brilliance. It’s wise. It’s wondrous. It’s what we need.
“We can only serve our country by telling the truth.”
— José Rizal, The Indolence of the Filipino
There comes a point where every wall of text comes to an end, no matter how endless it may seem towards the middle. The Indolence of the Filipino may sound daunting and intolerable. However, Rizal is very clear where he wants to be and always has our people’s best interest at heart. I can personally attest, fire burning in my soul as I say it: This essay series is well worth the read.
But some of you readers already knew that. Some of you understood the genius of Rizal long before I. In fact, you might even be wondering when this precocious child will broaden her mind. To you, my dear, sage readers, I can proudly say:
Now that I’m older and more mature (luh), rereading Noli Me Tangere is a new experience. I can now appreciate the subtle cues and delightful sarcasm that flew over my head at fifteen. Rizal’s wit is everywhere. His fiction is excellent. The Noli Me Tangere series truly is a glorious work.
Still, I’ll stan where it is most needed. The Noli Me Tangere series already has all the attention and readership it could ask for. But Sobre la indolencia de los filipinos is a national treasure that nobody knows.
The influence of Rizal’s name embowers all of us: Martyr and National Hero, household icon, childhood companion. His essay series is not the only source to learn about the Filipino people, but, with his influence, it could be the only source Filipinos are willing to take criticism from.
Almost no one has heard of The Indolence of the Filipino. Almost no one is encouraged to read it.
Is this not something we ought to change?
I ask you.
It’s critical and eye-opening. It’s needed.
That’s why, for as long as this burgeoning nationalism in me requires it, I’ll promote The Indolence.
And here, in this one article, I close with the crux:
The Indolence of the Filipino has an audience to illumine, if only they are willing to pick it up.
