The reason Rizal chose to be executed: the determination to uphold his ideals

December 30th holidays are now just one of many long vacations for many Filipinos. Buried within the year-end break and especially during the excited period before the New Year, its true essence is often overlooked. Yet, on that day over a century ago, José Rizal walked calmly to the scaffold. Not because he supported violent uprising, but simply because he refused to betray his own beliefs—just for that reason alone.

Interestingly, it was not the act of execution itself that changed the nation, but his life and the writings he left behind. His name has now become legendary, and many Filipinos are gradually losing their sense of what he truly symbolized. Meanwhile, for others, December 30 simply means taking a paid day off, sleeping in, and watching their favorite TV shows.

But in a daily life already exhausted, is there even room to think about a figure from the 19th century? Ironically, that may be precisely why Rizal’s life and death remain significant today.

A Few Months Before the Execution: The Decision to Decline a Rescue Offer

Rizal’s journey to death was not inevitable; it was his choice. During his exile in Dapitan, Katipunan offered to rescue him. Revolutionary leader Andres Bonifacio asked him to help with the uprising, but Rizal refused.

His judgment was thoroughly pragmatic. With resources scarce and his compatriots unprepared for a full-scale revolt, he believed such actions would only lead to pointless bloodshed.

Rizal and Katipunan were on different paths. The former sought liberation through reform, while the latter pursued independence through revolution. Yet, ultimately, they aimed for the same goal.

In a declaration dated December 15, 1896, Rizal openly condemned the uprising. “I condemn this uprising—it dishonors the Filipino people and discredits our cause. I detest the criminal methods involved, deny any involvement, and sincerely sympathize with those who were deceived and rash enough to participate,” he declared.

The Unexpected Consequences of the Propaganda Movement

Ironically, despite Rizal’s consistent desire for reform within the system, his propaganda movement fostered a national consciousness that made separation from Spain inevitable.

Historian Renato Constantino observed in a 1972 essay: “Rather than bringing Filipinos closer to Spain, propaganda sowed the seeds of separation. The push towards Spanishization transformed into the development of a clear national consciousness.”

Despite deeply understanding oppression through his own and his family’s experiences, Constantino described Rizal as a “limited” Filipino. “He fought for national unity, feared revolution, loved his homeland—yet only in his own illustrative way,” Constantino wrote.

For a long time, Rizal believed that assimilation with Spain was both possible and desirable. He admired European art, culture, and liberal ideas. But facing racial discrimination and injustice repeatedly, that belief was gradually eroded. Particularly during the land dispute with the Dominican friars in Calamba, Rizal acknowledged the failure of assimilation, writing in a 1887 letter to Blumentritt, “Filipinos longed for and desired Spanishization, which was a mistake.”

From Consciousness to Uprising: The Transformation of Rizal’s Legacy

Using Constantino’s words, Rizal might have been “consciousness without action.” But that consciousness was vital, and revolution turned it into action.

“As a social critic and a revealer of oppression, he played a notable role. His writings became part of a tradition of protest that blossomed into the revolution and separatist movement. His initial aim to elevate the indio to the level of Spanish, to have the nation assimilated and become a Spanish province, transformed into its exact opposite,” Constantino explained.

Without Rizal, the uprising might have been more fragmented, inconsistent, and weakly justified. When Spain triggered the events in Manila (present-day Luneta Park) in 1896, his execution intensified the Filipino desire for separation, unified scattered movements, and provided moral clarity to the revolution.

The Value of Those Who Stand Firm in Their Beliefs

His life and death brought about systemic change—not because he sought martyrdom, but because he refused to betray his ideals. Ultimately, dying is not a prescription for patriotism.

Historian Ambeth Ocampo describes Rizal’s extraordinary calmness in his 1990 book, Rizal Without the Overcoat: “Rizal was a quiet and peaceful man who deliberately and calmly walked to his death for his beliefs. Before his execution, his pulse was reportedly normal. If it could be avoided, how many would be willing to die for their convictions?”

Ocampo calls Rizal a “conscious hero,” because he was deliberate about his decisions and fully aware of their consequences. In a letter he wrote in 1882, Rizal explained why he chose not to save himself: “Furthermore, I want to show those who deny that Filipinos have patriotism that we know how to die for duty and conviction. If dying for loved ones and the homeland is what death means, then what is death?”

Lessons from Rizal for the Modern Era

Today, Rizal is often remembered as a saintly, American-supported hero. In fact, his current legacy was partly shaped by stories from the American colonial period. Theodore Friend, in his book Between Two Empires, notes that Rizal was favored because “Aguinaldo was too radical, Bonifacio too revolutionary, and Mabini too stubborn.”

Constantino more frankly states, “They preferred heroes who did not oppose American colonial policies.”

But a national hero does not require an official constitutional status. Rizal does not need it. His legacy stands on its own. However, by humanizing Rizal rather than sanctifying him, Filipinos can ask better questions: Which parts of his example are still applicable today? Which parts are not?

In Our Mission: Making Rizal Obsolete, Constantino states, “Rizal’s personal goal was always aligned with what he believed to be the best interests of the nation.” His intention to make Rizal obsolete meant that as long as corruption and injustice persisted, Rizal’s example would remain relevant. If those ideals are truly realized, his legacy would have fulfilled its mission, and the need for a symbolic hero inspiring conscience would disappear.

But the country is clearly not at that stage. Just as Rizal refused to betray his ideals, modern Filipinos are called to resist the temptations and pressures of corruption and injustice with unwavering resolve. That may be the most enduring lesson of all.

On December 30, the nation remembers not only how Rizal died but, more importantly, why he refused to save himself.