Last Sunday, thousands of Filipinos joined mass gatherings at various venues to express indignation over alleged corruption in the national government’s infrastructure development programs, and impatience over the perceived slow pace of investigation and conviction of the personalities involved.

Most participants were from the church and religious organizations, civil society, youth, and labor sectors. We heard that participants in the rallies included retired officers from the Armed Forces of the Philippines and the Philippine National Police.

It is significant that the rallies, dubbed the “Trillion Peso March,” coincided with Bonifacio Day – a day set aside each year to honor a person recognized as a national hero. As we mentioned in one of our past columns, Andres Bonifacio, “Father of the Katipunan,” is a name synonymous with the proverbial “matapang na tao” – the brave man.

That label came from the image of him that has been passed on from generation to generation of Filipinos. When we hear his name, we imagine him as a bolo-wielding warrior who feared no one. He stood up to and fought the soldiers of our then-colonial masters, who had superior weapons and superior military know-how.

Our image of him is that of the angry leading a ragtag band of fighting men, tearing up their cedulas, and then letting out that classic battle-cry of “Sugod, mga kapatid” (Charge, brethren).

Bonifacio is an “idol” to many Filipinos, particularly those who would describe themselves as “masa.” After all, Bonifacio came from the grassroots. He was the direct contrast of Dr. Jose Rizal. Unlike Dr. Rizal, he received no formal education. Dr. Rizal was the rational intellectual. Bonifacio was the emotional field commander. Like other revolutionary leaders in the mold of Antonio Luna, we saw him as the personification of “puso.”

Many of us see Bonifacio as the heroic figure who bucked the odds and led a revolution on the basis of “heart.” He was the original “pusong Pilipino.”

His critics say he had “too much puso.” There are those who felt he would not have died what they thought was a useless, premature death in the hands of political rivals had he used more “utak” than “puso.” Revolutions require more than just “heart,” they say, but also rational planning, strategic thinking, and decision-making based on logic and reason. Based on how we imagine Bonifacio from our history textbooks and movies made about him, he was none of that.

Historians who hold this view may have a point.

Despite that, he is a “hero” to us. He represents our “tapang” and our inimitable “puso.” So, today, we will pay tribute to the Supremo of the Katipunan by honoring the power of the Filipino “puso.”

That “tapang” and “puso” were evident in the peaceful gatherings last Sunday.

Many of our countrymen summoned both courage and heart to show up, go to the streets, and perform the brave act of open and peaceful protests. We honor, in particular, those who had the courage to stand up on the protest platforms without masks. We feel that masked hooligans who instigate violence amid protest rallies are cowards who cannot claim to be sons of the “Father of the Katipunan.”

In our view, the greater act of “tapang” and “puso” was displayed last Sunday by those who clearly rejected violent, extra-constitutional options to solve our current problems. Men and women of courage and heart took a solid position against the overthrow of the legitimate constitutionally-mandated government. They nixed the idea of a resignation by the President. They gave a clear “no” to the appointment of a “consensus leader” and to the formation of a civil-military junta.

In other words, they made a brave stand for the constitution and the rule of law. They would have made Andres Bonifacio proud.

In so doing, they reminded us of the meaning of patriotism. They protest and demand reforms because they love our country. They do not want our country damaged and razed to the ground despite the scandals now hounding us. It is an act of courage to reject propositions that would divide the nation and pit us, Filipinos, against one another.

As we have said before, our view is that the Bonifacio kind of Filipino “tapang” and “puso” does not equate with over-emotionality. The Bonifacio “puso” is one that works with the “utak.” The “utak” helps the Filipino size up the challenge that is in front of him. He weighs risks against opportunity, danger, and sacrifice versus the possible reward. There are times when the risk outweighs the opportunity. There are times when the magnitude of the sacrifice required of the Filipino far outweighs the promise of reward.

This is when theBonifacio kind of “puso” comes in. This is when the Filipino summons that strength from within – the strength which has greater power than the odds, than the size of the enemy, than the risks and the disadvantages that a situation presents. The Bonifacio “puso” is more than just a burst of emotion. That “puso” is a decision – a decision to overlook the odds and to keep one’s eyes and focus on the things that truly matter to the Filipino: be it a dream, a need of the family, or the timeless tenets of freedom and human dignity.

That is the kind of “puso” we inherited from the original “matapang na tao” – the Supremo Andres Bonifacio.

This is the courage we need to muster and display as we navigate the rough waters we now find ourselves in.