By Dom Galeon BEATEN BUT NOT BROKEN Some of the leaders of the 1896 Revolution against Spain, in a photo taken while they were in exile in Hong Kong. Whenever one talks about the political birth of a nation, one inevitably mentions the people behind it. More often than not, instead of talking about a nation’s mother who gave birth to it, we end up with forefathers, as if men were even capable of giving birth. Whether that’s a reflection of historical misogyny, a question of terminologies, or perhaps something else entirely, the fact is nations have more political forefathers than birth mothers. One can argue that a Filipino nation was born sometime in 1897, at the throes of a revolution that was about to fail against Mother Spain. At the center of it all were our forefathers, whose names are as familiar to many as their own biological dads. That year, 1897, was a crucial one. A revolutionary government was put up in March 1897, after an election held at a hacienda in Tejeros. For many, this was a defining moment in the history of the revolution—when the two councils of the Katipunan in Cavite merged into one. This, supposedly, was a development towards unity. Yet, this much celebrated episode in the history of the revolution that began in 1896 reveals much more than just a united struggle for independence. On the contrary, much of what it has achieved happened with several instances of disagreement and disunity, conflicts that reflect the politics of those we consider to be our nation’s forefathers. Perhaps the most famous conflict that happened at the Tejeros Convention is the one between Andres Bonifacio and Daniel Tirona. Many historians have already discussed the drama between the two, but examining other primary sources reveal that there were many other conflicts or heated arguments that happened during the assembly at Tejeros. Let’s talk about these other instances here. Keep in mind, though, that we’re looking at the different versions of the Tejeros Convention as told by various primary sources. Protests SUPREMO SURPASSED? Andres Bonifacio, according to popular accounts of the events at Tejeros, had a heated exchange with Daniel Tirona. According to the accounts by a certain Telesforo Canseco, an employee of the Dominicans who used to run the hacienda, written sometime in October 1897, there were two disturbances that took place during the assembly. Unlike the more popular accounts of Artemio Ricarte and Santiago Alvarez, both of which were written many years after Tejeros, Canseco recounted what happened at the assembly not as a one-day but as a three-day affair. The first disturbance supposedly occurred on the first day, when Emilio Aguinaldo was elected president. Several of those present—specifically Mariano Alvarez (head of the Madiwang council), Ariston Villanueva, and Bonifacio—contested the results. The three, Canseco wrote, “protestaron de la elección.” This was how the first day of the assembly ended, with disagreement among those present. On the second day, the second conflict happened, Canseco said. When the voting was finally done through ballots, Aguinaldo still won as president, followed by the election of Mariano Trias as vice-president, and Emiliano Riego de Dios as minister of war. It was here that another clash erupted, this time between Villanueva and Daniel Tirona, who both served as ministers of war for the Magdiwang and the Magdaló, respectively. Now that there was only one revolutionary government, they no longer held their posts. According to Canseco, it would seem that this was the cause of their argument. The two blamed one another for losing their previous positions, and the argument must have been rather heated, for each of them supposedly “echando mano a los revolveres,” wrote Canseco. They drew their revolvers. Nothing came of it, fortunately, because they were stopped by the others present, and the elections had to be postponed for a third day. Civil War Brews A second primary source that mentioned a conflict during the Tejeros Convention was Carlos Ronquillo. A member of the Magdaló council, Ronquillo served as secretary to Aguinaldo and was among those exiled with him to Hong Kong after the Pact of Biak-na-Bato. It was there, in 1898, when Ronquillo wrote his memoirs of the Revolution, which he titled Ilang Talata tungkol sa Paghihimagsik nang 1896-1897. According to his versions of the events, the Tejeros Convention also happened in a series of several days. The conflict he recorded involved almost the same set of people Canseco mentioned. The older Alvarez, Villanueva, Bonifacio, and Diego Mojica, Ronquillo wrote, did not agree with what was decided on the first meeting—which was to elect officers for a unified revolutionary government. To show their disagreement, they quietly slipped out of the meeting, while everyone else was busy talking about what to do. A little while later, it became known to the rest of those in the assembly that Alvarez and Villanueva posted guards around the hacienda, purportedly to bring back order to the meeting. The threat of a clash seemed imminent. In order to continue the assembly, those present decided to transfer to Tanza, at the suggestion of the parish priest there. Yet even there, tensions remained high. According to Ronquillo, the following day, when the assembly had moved to Tanza, more rumors came. Alvarez and Villanueva, it seemed, were preparing troops to storm the assembly to prevent it from holding a session. Townspeople were comforted by Jacinto Pulido, president of Tanza, assuring them that his troops were stationed around the meeting place in order to quell any possible threat. In like manner, Santiago Rillo, the representative from Batangas, assured those present that the 7,000 Batagueños scattered around Magdiwang territory could fight any threat from Alvarez and Villanueva. Reassured, the assembly continued. Fortunately, the potential conflict, which was nothing short of a mini civil war between the revolutionists—our forefathers!—did not happen. The threat of a clash did not materialize. More Conflict ELECTED PRESIDENT Emilio Aguinaldo, whose cousin Baldomero was the head of the Magdaló, became president after Tejeros. Moving on to a third primary source that narrated disturbances during the assembly, this time from Antonio Montenegro, a Manileño who came to Cavite and became a member of the Magdaló council. In 1934, Montenegro wrote his account of what happened in Tejeros, which is excerpted in Isagani Medina’s introduction to the 1996 reprint of Ronquillo’s memoirs. This excerpted portion showed two instances of conflict among the participants in the Tejeros Convention. According to Montenegro, the assembly also took at least two days. On the first day, Aguinaldo was elected president, and others were also put in the other posts. But there was a conflict during the election of the secretary of interior. Montenegro did not elaborate on the details of this confusion, though, except that it seemed to have been about misunderstandings between the Magdiwang and the Magdaló. The first day, according to Montenegro, ended with much confusion on both sides. The following day, when the assembly reconvened, it was greeted with another conflict. The events of the previous day were discussed, and those present were divided into two groups: those who were in favor of accepting the results of the previous day’s elections, and those who were against it. Montenegro found himself in the middle of it all. He was in favor of keeping the previous day’s results, noting that there was only a problem with the election for secretary of interior and not for the other positions. Montenegro’s statement angered Villanueva, and his son Andres, and the Supremo Bonifacio. At the height of the confusion and conflict, the assembly was divided into two: those who were in favor of Montenegro (those from Imus and also those who were under Trias), and those who were against him. It would have almost exploded into a gunfight, had Jose Rizal’s supposed wife, Jospehine Bracken, and his younger sister Trining not come to stop these men. They took Montenegro out of the assembly and put him in a room where, he noted, the two women gave him water to drink. Then, according to Montenegro’s account, it would seem that they continued the meeting after all the fuss. Popular Accounts Finally, there were also the conflicts narrated by the memoirs of Ricarte (first published in 1922) and the younger Alvarez, Mariano’s son Santiago (published in 1927). These two men both witnessed the Tejeros convention, yet wrote their accounts after several years had passed. In any case, it is worth noting that their versions claimed that the Tejeros Convention lasted only for one day. Both recounted instances of conflict, albeit all occurred in one day. The first was the conflict between Montenegro and Santiago Alvarez. This is parallel to the one narrated by Montenegro, with similar details. Accordingly, Montenegro said something that came across as an insult to the younger Alvarez, which angered the latter. Almost immediately, Alvarez’ troops stood at the ready, but tensions were pacified with the arrival of Rizal’s widow and sister. The other conflict narrated by both Ricarte and Alvarez is the famous Bonifacio-Tirona clash, which is also mentioned in Aguinaldo’s own account of Tejeros, included in his memoirs written in 1964. The details, as narrated in all three accounts, are largely similar. Daniel Tirona contested Bonifacio’s election to the post of secretary of interior, noting that the position was more appropriate for a lawyer. Tirona recommended Jose del Rosario for the job. Bonifacio, hurt and angered by this, drew his revolver to shoot Tirona, who hid himself among the crowd. The Supremo was then prevented by Jacinto Lumreras from running after the scared Tirona. This protest ended the meeting, with Bonifacio and his allies supposedly walking out after he declared the elections null and void. But, as both Ricarte and Alaverez narrated, the assembly still continued. This account of the Tejeros Convention is supposedly confirmed by the recently discovered letters Bonifacio wrote to Emilio Jacinto. Assuming, of course, that the letters are authentic. CONVENTION CONFUSION When Bonifacio threatened Tirona Our Political Fathers In discussing these conflicts and clashes, which disturbed the Tejeros Convention, it is assumed that their respective sources are valid. An important point here is that these sources could be referring to the same incidents, but due to certain circumstances, the recollections of the memoirists that wrote them may not always be congruent. Take, for instance, the disturbance described by Montenegro. A similar occurrence was mentioned by both Ricarte and Alvarez. There is a great possibility that these three, who were all present during the Tejeros Convention, were actually referring to the same incident. Montenegro, in the middle of an argument, said something that offended Santiago Alvarez and Villanueva. The same can be said of Canseco’s version of the events, which mentioned a conflict between Villanueva and Tirona. This is parallel to the Bonifactio-Tirona conflict. To add credence to this narrative, the confrontation happened after the election of Emiliano Riego de Dios as minster of war, a detail that Canseco’s memoirs and those of Ricarte and Villanueva both mention. These clashes could also be two different instances. No Unity It doesn’t end here, though. Unity was hard to come by for our political forefathers. After the Tejeros Convention, two of the most tragic episodes in the history of the 1896 Revolution—and perhaps even of the Philippines—happened. The first one was the so-called Naic Assembly, which was perhaps the high point of the brewing conflict. On April 19, 1897, another meeting took place at the hacienda in Naic, which was attened by more than 40 people. It was an attempt to establish a seat of power, a government different from the one put up in Tejeros. At Naic, a group of revolutionists, headed by Bonifacio himself, signed a document that seems to undermine the authority of the revolutionary government of Aguinaldo. The supposed plot was discovered by a certain colonel named Lazaro Macapagal—who was held captive inside the Naic hacienda but escaped by scaling one of the walls surrounding the estate. He quickly reported what had happened to Aguinaldo, who was sick at that time and resting in a house in Naic. Aguinaldo himself narrated what he discovered in the hacienda, which he considered to be a seditious act. Things escalated rather quickly. A couple of days later, Bonifacio was arrested at Limbon, on Aguinaldo’s orders, after the former supposedly threatened to burn down a town for not supplying his camp with good. Andres Bonifacio, together with his brother Procopio, was arrested and put under trial. Both were found guilty of acting against the established government, of which Aguinaldo was head, and were sentenced to death. Bonifacio’s actions were judged on the premise that the revolutionary government elected at Tejeros was valid and had real authority. It seemed that it did, at that point. In any case, it is clear that the March 1897 Tejeros Convention is not exactly the most perfect event that displayed unity among the revolutionists, as popular accounts would have it. The birth of the revolutionary government, which remained in power until Biak-na-Bato, did not seem to be a gathering of gentlemen, united with a patriotic ideal. Quite the opposite. Throughout much of what happened at Tejeros, personal conflicts and clashes took center stage. Perhaps some of these clashes were driven by authentic love for freedom on the part of the revolutionists, although it seems impossible to prove at this point. What is clear is that, rather than being a display of unity, the Tejeros Convention was a political tug-of-war between two opposing camps with differing concerns—not necessarily Magdiwang versus Magdaló, or Bonifacio against Aguinaldo, as popular history would have it. Eventually, the unity that should have been the outcome of this assembly was achieved only when the enemy was close to overpowering the revolution and at the expense of one man. In the end, our forefathers did not seem to be as noble as we’d like to believe they were.