Speech
of
His Excellency Fidel V. Ramos
President of the Philippines
In Commemoration of the 102nd anniversary of the First Cry for Freedom of the Katipunan

[Delivered at Pamitinan Cave, Sitio Wawa, Montalban, Rizal, April 12, 1997]

From darkness
into light

TODAY WE BREAK the customary silence of this deep and brooding cave to commemorate one of the most momentous events in our nation’s history, which took place here at Pamitinan 102 years ago.

On this day in 1895—a year before the word “revolution!” would be carried by every patriotic Filipino’s voice—an exalted group of eight leaders and members of the Katipunan met in the secrecy of these caverns, and here asserted among themselves the need to revolt in the cause of freedom. But more than affirm this need, they also organized themselves into a fighting force, a society of Filipinos committed to independence.

They chose their symbols—and settled on the letter “K” of the ancient alphabet. In the battles that were to follow, this symbol would be a weapon in itself—a weapon of the mind, a concrete image of what had, for centuries, been a deep but often unspoken longing in the hearts of our indentured people.

A ritual of commitment

When we read the accounts of those who attended that historic meeting, we realize that what took place at Pamitinan was, essentially, a ritual—a ritual of commitment, of the full realization of what lay behind them and what lay ahead.

The record says that “after those deliberations, they scribbled on the walls of the cave with a piece of charcoal: ‘Viva la Independencia de Filipinas!‘ and then signed each of their names.”

One of those present, the playwright Aurelio Tolentino, recalled what happened next: “. . . those humble sons of the soil emerged from that cave with their hearts torn with emotion and their eyes filled with tears as they stood speechless, looking at one another. They foresaw how heavily they would have to pay for the ideal they had created.”

And pay heavily they would, indeed, for no more than two years later, the Supremo, Andrés Bonifacio, would fall victim to the inexorable momentum of the revolution, as would many other brave and brilliant men and women. Yet, in the end, the Spanish standard would yield to the new tricolored flag favored by the revolutionaries.

We Filipinos have always appreciated the function and the value of rituals and symbols in our life, such as our heroes designed here at Pamitinan. Rituals and symbols appeal not so much to the stomach as to the spirit; they elevate the common to the scale of the mythic, affirming the existence of a fundamental unity of aspirations and beliefs among peoples of various times and places.

The emotion that swept Bonifacio and his confederates when they emerged from this cave was, as Tolentino himself understood, the awesome realization of their historic role, their self-acknowledged responsibilities.

They had made a pact not only among themselves, not only with their people, but with the freedom-loving revolutionaries of all places and of all times—before and after them—to prove worthy of their aims, to be true to the cause, to live and die with the honor of having served one’s people well.

A special and historic cave

And speaking of symbols, it seems very appropriate indeed that our forefathers chose to meet in a cave. Pamitinan, of course, provided them with the secrecy and the security that was crucial at that time to their fledgling cause. And this cave occupies a special place in our folk belief as the haven of Bernardo Carpio, a hero-figure to the downtrodden.

But who cannot help reflecting, at a moment like this, upon another anniversary that we marked just a few weeks ago—that of Easter, of Christ’s descent into and emergence from his cavelike tomb, into a glorious rebirth?

Out of this cave our heroes, our earthly redeemers, came—and they spread the word of the new life promised by freedom. From the darkness into the light—literally and symbolically, this has been the story of our quest for a better future in the glow of peace, freedom, prosperity and justice.

Today, our nation has emerged into a new dawning of hopes and opportunities—a second century of freedom and of growth made possible by the vision and the sacrifice of those who preceded us to this cave.

To them, we offer our deepest thanks—and make the same commitment that they did, to liberty, to justice, to a provident life for all Filipinos.