Andres Bonifacio

Who is Andres?

Andrés Bonifacio y de Castro (November 30, 1863 – May 10, 1897) was a Filipino nationalist and revolutionary. He was a founder and later the supreme leader of the Katipunan movement which sought the independence of the Philippines from Spanish colonial rule and started the Philippine Revolution. He is considered a de facto national hero of the Philippines. Bonifacio is also considered by some Filipino historians to be the first president of the Philippines, but he is not officially recognized as such.

Andres Bonifacio is known in the Philippines as the Great Plebeian. He was born to a poor family in Tondo, Manila, on November 30, 1863. His parents were Santiago Bonifacio and Catalina de Castro.

Although not well-schooled (he reached only primary school), he was quite literate and fluent enough to read and write in Spanish. He admired Jose Rizal, whose works on Noli Mi Tangere and El Filibusterismo inspired him and developed a strong sense of nationalism. He organized a secret society and revolutionary group, Katipunan, in 1892 when Rizal was arrested and deported to Dapitan. Shortly after, Bonifacio became the Supremo (head) of the Katipunan. Unlike those in the middle class, Bonifacio and his circle of plebeians did not seek reforms from the Spanish government. Their aim was to liberate the native Filipinos from tyranny and procure their independence. The Katipunan became the core of the revolutionary army under Emilio Aguinaldo whose election as President of the Philippine Revolutionary Government cost Bonifacio's downfall. After being tried by the council of war on charges of treason, General Lazaro Makapagal led a group of soldiers who executed Bonifacio and his brother Procopio on May 10, 1897.

Happy Birthday Andres!!! 

Wherever you are... thank you for making 

this country a better place!!!

Here's a poem, one of my favorites, written by our great hero, Andress Bonifacio:  

PAG-IBIG SA TINUBUANG LUPA

Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya

sa pagkadalisay at magkadakila

Gaya ng pag-ibig sa sariling lupa?

Aling pag-ibig pa? Wala na nga, wala.

Pagpupuring lubos ang palaging hangad

Sa bayan ng taong may dangal na ingat,

Umawit, tumula, kumata't at sumulat,

Kalakhan din niya'y isinisiwalat.

Walang mahalagang hindi inihandog

Ng may pusong mahal sa Bayang nagkupkop,

dugo, yaman, dunong, katiisa't pagod,

Buhay ma'y abuting magkalagut-lagot.

Bakit? Alin ito na sakdal ng laki,

Na hinahandugan ng busong pagkasi,

Na sa lalong mahal nakapangyayari,

At ginugulan ng buhay na iwi?

Ay! Ito'y ang iang bayang tinubuan:

Siya'y iona't tangi sa kinamulatan

Ng kawili-wiling liwanang ng araw

Na nagbigay-init sa buong katawan.

Kalakip din nito'y pag-ibig sa Bayan,

Ang lahat ng lalong sa gunita'y mahal,

Mula sa masaya'y gasong kasanggulan

Hanggang sa katawa'y mapasa-libingan.

Sa aba ng abang mawalay sa bayan!

Gunita ma'y laging sakbibi ng lumbay,

Walang alaala't inaasa-asam

Kundi ang makita'y lupang tinubuan.

Pati ng magdusa'y sampung kamatayan

Wari ay masarap kung dahil sa bayan

At lalong mahirap. Oh, himalang bagay!

Lalong pag-irog pa ang sa kanya'y alay.

Kung ang bayang ito'y masasa-panganib

At siya ay dapat na ipagtangkilik,

Ang anak, asawa, magulang, kapatid;

Isang tawag niya'y tatalidang pilit.

Hayo na nga, hayo, kayong nagabuhay

Sa pag-asang lubos ng kaginhawahan

At walang tinamo kundi kapaitan,

Hayo na't ibangon ang naabang bayan!

Kayong nalagasan ng bunga't bulaklak

Ng kaho'y ng buhay na nilanta't sukat,

Ng bala-balaki't makapal na hirap,

muling manariaw't sa baya'y lumiyag.

Ipahandug-handog ang busong pag-ibig

At hanggang may dugo'y ubusing itigis;

kung sa pagtatanggol, buhay ay mapatid,

Ito'y kapalaran at tunay na langit! 

love, now and always,