Asian Journal- The Filipino-American Community Newspaper

If Dr. Jose Rizal were alive today, what would he say? How many times have we asked this question, in jest, in exasperation, in drunken stupor, in occasional, if not rare, nationalistic fervor? What, indeed, would our national hero say? And, while we’re at it, what would those other heroes, those many men and women who sacrificed love and life for the sake of a better country, say?

Through the musical satire Rizal is My President, co-presented recently by the Asian Journal and Balikbayan Magazine, we get the delicious, eyeopening, heartwarming treat of an idea. Apolinario Mabini, Andres Bonifacio, Antonio Luna, Marcelo H. Del Pilar, Gabriela Silang, Tandang Sora, and Ninoy Aquino, they’re all in that special place in heaven for the noble, and they are cooking up a campaign to send the noblest of them all back to lead the country they so love, the country they had dreamed and still dream, so much for—the same country that had, arguably, done nothing to lengthen their patriotic stay, their immense sacrifices notwithstanding.

We see The Marangals breaking into song and dance, even as they engage Rizal— dear, Rubik’s cube-addicted, net-savvy, a little-bit-vain Pepe to them—in an impassioned debate on why he should run for president in the upcoming Philippine elections. Reluctant Rizal issues a heartfelt response: I already gave it my all. Isn’t it enough that I gave up my life?

This time around, not even Ninoy can convince him the Filipino is worth dying for all over again. But Rizal’s mother— or that tangible memory of her unconditional, nurturing love—can. And yes, the Filipino—in the body of a poor, wide-eyed boy who has had to do without his own loving OFW mother—can.

Rizal is My President is like the Filipino heart. It is at once desperate and hopeful, hilarious and scornful; there is love and light where others who do not understand would only expect there not to be. It captures the Filipino spirit. It is both fighting and surrendering; often on the verge of dying, but never really dead. There is song and dance and a mournful funeral scene. It laughs a little; it weeps just as much. And, when you least expect it—like a little after Rizal and Ninoy, in their private little mutual admiration society, whip out treasured "pictures" of the other in a one-peso coin and a five hundred-peso bill, and then give rise to a new denomination—a life lesson hits home.

In the midst of his reflections, Rizal is haunted by his mother, the OFW mother, the motherland. All three incarnations have been held hostage at some point—wrongly accused, wrongly treated, wrongly judged—and yet all three just kept on giving, never asking for anything in return, except maybe steadfast love."Tunay nga na maliban sa Diyos, ang ina ang lahat-lahat sa atin," he muses. Indeed, aside from God, it is our mother who is everything to us.

For the love of his mother, of his motherland, of who and what had so generously poured into him every magnificent thing that he was, Rizal makes his decision: Like a superhero—I kid you not!—he would fly back to his patria adorada, his perla del mar de oriente, nuestro perdido Edén, to meet that boy who, like many of us Filipinos, is clinging on to that seemingly impossible dream of a hero.

Rizal meets boy. Boy is terrified (and not to mention thinks he’s a drug-crazed maniac who’d broken into his house). Rizal convinces boy. Boy begs Rizal to stay (and send those real powerdrunk political maniacs away). Rizal, for all his self-awareness in his place in history, gently but firmly refuses an active role in another generation’s story. I gave you my life, he seems to say instead, now use it to be your own hero.

It is at this point that musical morphs into mission, into movement. Rizal is My President is a project of the OCCI Fullness of Life Foundation, which seeks to awaken the leader in each and every Filipino. Based on the book Rizal is My President, 40 Leadership Tips from Jose Rizal by Napoleon Almonte, it was adapted for the stage by Joshua So and directed by PETA’s Raffy Tejada. De La Salle University’s Harlequin Guild students star in it, performing original, heart-stirring songs by Noel Cabangon.

The musical satire premiered early this May at Ateneo Loyola Heights. It will transfer before the end of the month to St. Scholastica’s College Manila, and then move on to other schools and venues, spreading the news that, yes, he was shot dead by a firing squad in Bagumbayan, but Dr. Jose Rizal can stay alive in us in so many ways—forty to be exact.

The 40 leadership tips from the book figure prominently in the musical. Nearing its end, The Marangals fan out in the audience area, spreading pieces of papers bearing these tips to a noble, heroic life. Know your country. Rise above the heartbreak. Face the bullet. Know how to say goodbye.

Musical morphs into mission, into movement, and Rizal is alive. Now we know that, with the legacy of his life, you don’t have to die to be a hero. These days, it is quite the opposite, actually. For this nation to soar, you have to love. So, you have to live.

Rizal is My President, the book, would soon be available in the United States.

( www.asianjournal.com )

( Published on May 22, 2009 in SF Magazine p. 5 )