La Generala Gabriela of Ilocandia

Drop by the corner of Ayala and Makati Avenue in Makati City, and gaze at a curious monument, of a Filipina, riding a horse in movement. Her body is slightly leaning to her right, with her right hand holding a bolo, and her left hand holding the reins. Her neck seemed to show veins, her mouth open as if shouting. She seem to shout something of a battlecry. If one stares at the statue long enough, one would imagine her riding fast across a raging battlefield, with the clanging of bolos and metal, of exploding cannons and cries of pain. The dust of the moving hooves of the horse, the rider’s sweat as it sparkles into oblivion. That nuance is lost when one sees the traffic of a battlefield in Ayala Avenue.

But look closely, again, this time, at her angry eyes. Was there a hint of grief there? But those eyes were undoubtedly fearless. How warrior-like she was, riding that horse. She seemed intent in attacking a very powerful foe. And even lead an army.

For that was who she was–a Filipina leader in a time when women were kept in close doors, forbidden to be educated, and trained in the strictest discipline under Spanish friars.

Some records show that Maria Josefa Gabriela Cariño was born on the 19th of March 1731, in Caniogan, at Santa, a small town in what is now Ilocos Sur. We do not have portraits of her, since the people of her stature during those three centuries of the Spanish Colonial Period in the Philippines were not important enough for the people at the time–an unfortunate reality that historians today have to deal with. So what we have now, even in the monument at Ayala, are just reimaginings of her, and what some sparse records tell.

Her parents entrusted her to Fray Tomas Millan of Vigan, ensuring that their daughter would be taught the Spanish language, and the ruminations of the Catholic religion. The time came when she grew up to be an attractive literate young woman. Suitors, one of them, a Spaniard, lined up for her hand in marriage. That Spaniard gave Gabriela a shawl–a shawl she gave away to an old woman shivering in the cold one night as she was passing by a barrio.

She was married off by her parents to a wealthy and elderly Ilocano, whom Gabriela had marriage for three years without children. Unhappy though the marriage was, the husband eventually passed away in old age. Gabriela married again, this time, in love, to a young idealist man who would change her life.

Diego Silang, a courier for the Spanish government, found Gabriela beautiful. With their relationship blossoming, they eventually married. Diego’s work brought him to the far reaches of Luzon, from Vigan to Manila and back. And this wider view of the Spanish government in Luzon gave Diego a unique perspective that was very sympathetic to the many Filipinos being abused by the Spanish colonial system. Unfair taxation on poor farmers, forced service demanded by Spanish friars and government officials on “indios”, among other things, affected Diego Silang so much. He and Gabriela identified with them and their pain.

In 1762, winds of change blew from the horizon. The navy of the British East India Company appeared in Manila Bay, and the Spaniards, for the first time, was defeated in battle and driven from Manila (then, Intramuros), the capital of the colony. This battle was but part of a wider war across the seas, fought by the British versus the French and Spanish, that would be known in European history as the Seven Years’ War. The British set a foothold on Manila and held it for approximately two years.

*Map of the British invasion of Manila on September 23, 1762. They would return the city to Spain in the early months of 1764. Map graphic, from the Historical Atlas of the Republic, 2016. 

The defeat of Spain in the Philippines brought shockwaves of both horror and surprise in the country. Spain, unchallenged before, was flatly defeated. And Filipinos, like Diego and Gabriela Silang, have found that it was indeed possible to defeat Spain. With the Spanish surrender of Manila, Diego Silang went back to Ilocos. Across the provinces as he returned, Diego found out that Filipinos have found new courage in airing their dissent in public against the erring and abusive friars, and corrupt alcalde mayores.

When Diego Silang went back to Vigan, he organized a group of like-minded Ilocanos and told them the need to speak out for equality and fair treatment of “indios.” Diego’s group appealed to Don Antonio Zabala, the alcalde mayor of Ilocos. But in response, Zabala had him arrested, flogged in public and incarcerated. When he was finally freed, Diego Silang organized a clandestine operation that sought to push the Spaniards out of what he would call “Ilocandia.” Because his wife Gabriela was half-Tinguian, Diego Silang encouraged her to recruit the fearsome Tinguian fighters to their side. An open battle was fought, led by Diego Silang on November 14, 1762, and surprisingly won. By December, Zabala and Bishop Bernardo Ustariz were captured by the rebellion, and Diego Silang was named “capitan general” of the new Ilocano nation, taking on the similar title held by the Spanish Governor-General. With Gabriela by his side in their leadership of the people, Diego Silang declared Ilocandia independent.

Silang soon established a cordial diplomatic relations with the occupying British in Manila, with the British even using the honorary “Your Grace” in their letters to Silang. With these new developments, the Spanish government centered in Pampanga and led by Spanish Governor-General Simon de Anda saw Diego Silang as a formidable threat. They sought to stop him with whatever means necessary. A plot was arranged to assassinate Diego Silang. Diego’s close friends, Miguel Vicos and Pedro Becbec, were unhappy with Diego Silang’s leadership. On May 28, 1763, colluding with the desperate Spanish friars, the two traitors went to the encampment to visit Silang. Diego was just about to offer them the basi wine, when the act of treachery was done. Vicos shot Diego Silang on the back with a gun.

Gabriela went rushing in, where she found her husband in a pool of blood. Diego Silang died in her arms at around 2:00 pm. He was 33 years old. In grief and anger, the widow vowed that she would continue what her late husband had started. When no man was willing to take the reins of leadership, Gabriela boldly took it. No one knows how she dealt with her grief, for her love for Diego was deep. But a Filipina leading an armed rebellion was unprecedented, and the people of Ilocandia, who initially were demoralized by the assassination, rallied to her cause.

Together with her aide and uncle, Nicolas Cariño, she led her first battle with the Spaniards with a few hundred men at her side right at her own hometown of Santa. They were victorious.

Having been defeated by an indio and a woman, the Spaniards couldn’t handle this new reality and devised plans to eliminate her. She and her army strategically retreated to Pidigan in Abra, a town surrounded by forests and mountains. Now with Itneg warriors at her side, skirmishes were implemented against the Spaniards with greater success. Creative weapons were used–sticks and stones were fashioned into arrows and spears, metal were tempered into bolos. Soon, Gabriela took on an almost supernatural role in the public’s imagination, especially in an age of superstition. The Spanish authorities hated the rebels, and feared them.

In August of 1763, Gabriela and her men fought the Spaniards in the Battle of Cabugao, but they were unfortunately defeated. Moreover, her aide was killed. But this did not dampen her spirit. By the end of the month, she gathered around 2,000 men in a bid to retake Vigan. Meanwhile the Spanish forces prepared well. They assembled 6,000 men with 300 archers to defend Vigan.

The day of reckoning came, the 10th of September 1763. The Battle of Vigan finally began. But seriously misjudging a patch of trees for masses of enemy soldiers, Gabriela’s army did not go immediately in the offensive, and this would cost them dearly. With superior weaponry and numbers, the army fell in disarray, and the remnant rebel army retreated in the mountains of Abra. But it only took five days for the Spaniards to overtake the approximately 80 wounded and exhausted army of Gabriela Silang. They were captured and in chains, dragged to the lowlands of Ilocos Sur.

In the twisted minds of the Spanish torturers of Gabriela, a special death sentence was reserved for her. On September 20, 1763, she was forced to watch as each of her remaining 80 men were hanged one by one in Vigan. As each one died one by one, it was time. She had no regrets. At 31 years old, she stood there, a proud final victim of the scaffold. To the very last moment, unyielding and defiant, Gabriela Silang gladly gave the supreme sacrifice.

For that was who she was.

Calling her the “Filipino Joan of Arc” as some teachers and textbooks would say, doesn’t cut it. She was her own woman. If it were of a different time, a kinder Pilipinas, Gabriela would have lived a full life dedicated to the people she loved with reckless abandon. But history doesn’t have what ifs. What we have is the past, and Gabriela’s short life was willingly offered to the nation. She could have settled for a small retribution of avenging her husband. But she couldn’t settle for less. Hers was a larger dream, the freedom of her people.

If Pinays of today could only recapture their heritage, that the heights of their love always correspond to the heights of their dreams, so large it can encompass a People. That’s the very essence of Filipina beauty, as history has shown–never timid, always compassionate, fiercely loving, and imbued with lofty vision and strength.

In celebration of the National Women’s Month, Women’s History Month–and Gabriela Silang’s 286th birth anniversary last 19th of March 2017.