Amante: Goyo and our need of heroes

(Illustration by John Gilbert Manantan)
(Illustration by John Gilbert Manantan)

IN schools, our children are still taught that Gregorio del Pilar gave his life in the Battle of Tirad Pass and, in so doing, saved the life of Emilio Aguinaldo, the first president of the republic.

Del Pilar died less than three weeks after his 24th birthday. Aguinaldo was not much older at 30, and it was only 15 months after his loyal supporter’s death that, trapped by the Americans who pursued him, he surrendered in Palanan, Isabela.

The movie “Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral” compels us to rethink the popular view of Del Pilar as martyr and hero, brought down well before his prime. What we see, instead, is an arrogant and imprudent figure, a young man who became a general too soon out of a combination of bravery, blind luck, and his loyalty to Aguinaldo.

Much of the action unfolds in the five months of relative quiet that followed the murder of Antonio Luna (who was only 32) in June 1899 in Nueva Ecija. It’s not clear why this happened--perhaps it was Aguinaldo’s shortsightedness and Del Pilar’s lack of military experience—but they squandered these five months, visiting town fiestas and, in Goyo’s case, pursuing women when he wasn’t trying to rid the revolutionary army of General Luna’s closest aides or taking over Luna’s headquarters in Pangasinan. One of the most effective motifs in the movie shows Del Pilar being haunted by his memory of the tortured Captain Manuel Bernal, who called him Aguinaldo’s bitch and taunted him to bark.

The writer Nick Joaquin’s reading of Del Pilar’s quick rise is merciless. Del Pilar, in his view, “had to be put in a position where he could instantly crush the Ilocanos should it turn out that the killing of Luna had inflamed them and made them dangerous. At a time when a foreign enemy had to be faced on the field, the hatchet of the Republic was poised against its own people.”

If filmmaker Jerrold Tarog intended for “Goyo” to make us question our need of heroes, he accomplishes that beautifully. Del Pilar doesn’t suffer from the revelation of (or speculation about) his doubts. Addressing the 60 men who had volunteered or been coerced into digging and defending the trenches of Tirad Pass, Goyo says, “There are no heroes here, only men who love their country and are willing to pay the price for that love.”

Nearly all of them paid the ultimate price and yet, in the end, accomplished little. (One character who survives after a comical tumble down the arid slopes of Ilocos Sur turns out to be a fictional character. Do stay until the credits for one of the movie’s best jokes.) In those months of quiet after Luna’s murder, Aguinaldo and Del Pilar failed to execute the guerrilla warfare plan that Luna, who was better-trained in the tactics of war, had laid out. They failed to plan for Aguinaldo’s escape, failed to put in place the food and shelter to which their army could have fled. The Aguinaldo who fled “through the highlands did not know where to go; he simply ran and ran until, in Palaan, he reached the sea and could run no further,” Joaquin wrote.

But perhaps it’s just as well that the Goyo and Ka Miong we meet in this thought-provoking and must-see film are all too human: sometimes petty, sometimes short-sighted, and yet, despite all that, worthy of their place in our bittersweet history. When history tells us about heroes, it tends to absolve us of the need to act. Their feats seem superhuman and impossible, and we can’t imagine ourselves being capable of doing the same. We might yet accomplish more, once we free ourselves of our need of heroes.

(Recommended reading: Nick Joaquin’s “A Question of Heroes” and Dr. Resil Mojares’ “The War Against the Americans: Resistance and Collaboration in Cebu, 1899-1906.”)

Trending

No stories found.

Just in

No stories found.

Branded Content

No stories found.
SunStar Publishing Inc.
www.sunstar.com.ph