Filipino Women Patriots:
Testimony to the Grace and Strength of Our People

© by Edessa Ramos
Published in Tambuli Newsletter, Zürich, Switzerland, January-March 1997

There were so many of them - women whose lives were never documented, whose names never made it to the classrooms and history books. They carried sensitive materials underneath their saya past the life-threatening scrutiny of the guardia civil. They transported arms and ammunition clandestinely in their baskets or strapped to their bodies underneath their clothing. They crossed the treacherous streets during hours of the night when no self-respecting woman in those times would wander about, bringing revolutionary messages to the different chapters of the Katipunan. They were the frontliners during secret meetings, standing by the windows with their fans and feigning a lazy evening of gossip when all the while they were on the look-out for the enemy, ever ready to warn the leaders huddled around in the sala drawing up strategies for the uprisings. They risked everything that they had, everything that they were, in order to heal the wounds of our fighters. There were those who took up arms themselves alongside their fathers, husbands and brothers in a project whose call transcended all boundaries of class, sex and convention - the Philippine Revolution.

A few women of the revolution made it somehow to the collective memory of the modern generations. Unforgettable women like Tandang Sora, Gregoria de Jesus, Marina Dizon, Trinidad Tecson, Teresa Magbanua, and others who were fortunate enough to have their exploits included in the chronicles of our people’s history. In safeguarding their memory, we might yet do justice to the countless nameless, faceless others whose stories fell along the wayside in the writing and rewriting of our history. In this way, we honor the contributions of all Filipino women in achieving our freedom and building our nation, even as we must continue our research and relentless documentation of their lives and heroism.

In her province of Iloilo, Teresa Magbanua watched her brothers join the Katipunan and arm themselves to fight the colonial regime. As a young girl growing up in this Visayan island of sweeping fields and sea-nudged beaches, Teresa became known for her excellent horsemanship and, later, her unequalled prowess with the rifle. Worried over this behavior so unconventional for a woman, her parents even sent her to a finishing school in Manila. Later she returned to Iloilo and became a teacher. When the island of Panay joined the revolution, she went to her uncle, Gen. Perfecto Poblador of the revolutionary forces, and asked for a contingent which she could lead. According to a short biography published by Kaanak, Teresa had argued that she could ride and shoot better than any man in Iloilo. Her request was reluctantly granted and she led many battles which inflicted crushing defeats on the Spanish forces, earning for her the title of Henerala, the first woman general of the Philippine Revolution. Ironically, Henerala Magbanua was never formally accorded the status of general by President Emilio Aguinaldo. It was her military skill and physical courage which achieved for her the height of legendary status and the undying love of her people. By the end of 1900, when the American victory in Panay was conceded, the revolutionary generals from Pablo Araneta to Martin Delgado, realizing the futility of further resistance, surrendered one by one to the new colonizers. Only Henerala Magbanua refused to surrender. She simply disbanded her forces and quietly retired to private life at Sara, her husband’s hometown.

History demonstrates that we will not run out of women role models who rose to the call of greatness.

Dating back from pre-colonial times when the Filipino woman exercised social and political leadership, and all through the dark period of colonialism which relegated her to centuries of isolation and subjugation, her heart and mind continued to burn with the fierce strength and love for freedom of her ancestors.

Indeed the Filipina, both of yesterday and today, has proven her strength when faced with life’s most difficult challenges. And this she does not just for her own interest but more often for the welfare of others. How can we overlook the stories of overseas Filipinas who came together in solidarity to save a life? I will never forget, for example, the Pinays I met in Vienna, a few years ago. Living the harsh lives of domestic helpers, immersed in a daily struggle for bread and, above all, defending their dignity, there were two sisters who walked the streets of this city on the look-out for fellow Pinays who might have run away from their employers, sheltering them in their tiny apartment and sharing their meager resources until more permanent solutions became available.

We are aware that in the modern world, women often find themselves pitted against each other, for their solidarity indeed poses a serious threat to a worldview defined by violence and the unhampered accumulation of material wealth. More frequent visits to our history, no matter how brief, will remind us that women and men need not subscribe to this worldview, and that to live a life in service of others brings in return something far greater than our individual selves, something which will outlive all of us - the dignity of our race and a better world for our children. For every Filipino child to go out into the world and announce ‘I am Filipino! I am proud of it!’ is to see the blood of our ancestors alive in their veins. Truly it must be the greatest reward of all.

If we study the profiles of many Filipino patriots, most especially women, we will discover that they were not people in search of greatness and recognition at all. Far from it, they were mostly ordinary women who found themselves in the vortex of extraordinary events. Drawing from their inner resources, they became capable of extraordinary deeds. Their participation in the freedom struggle was spurred mainly by a heart that sought to ease the suffering of others, much like the mother who cannot bear a child’s pain and must employ all means to alleviate it, even though it meant transferring the anguish to herself. This selflessness and indomitable spirit make up the heroism of the Filipina, not so much the guts with which she served as courier or revolutionary nurse or ammunitions handler. Not even the fearlessness with which she held the gun could equal the quiet but infectious strength of her will, often disguised by her tender and nurturing ways. It is an inner strength that is far more difficult to achieve even for the fiercest warrior.

It is a strength that we know is resident, though at times dormant, in every Filipino. With it we continue to build heroic lives in our own little ways and face with fortitude the uncertainties of our times.