Leon Kilat

My friend Max’s cyber name is Leon Kilat. The guy is doggedly a fan of the revolutionary hero, you can’t help but get curious yourself of both the hero and Max for his silent yet moving "hero worship." So one day, I asked him about it. Fact is, I kind of suspected already that he’s the man’s great great-grandson or some blood relation. I have been harboring all these sort of notion for sometime, I was beginning to think that Leon Kilat looks like Max himself.

Well, contrary to my fantastic imagination, Max, said he just admires the man and is amazed and touched by his tragic plight. And I guess, me, too. That puts us in the same boat.

No other man stands so boldly and mightily in the struggle for independence against Spain in Cebu than Leon Kilat. He who was reputed to be invincible and brave, who sowed the seeds of the revolution in the city, only to die of deceit and betrayal at the hands of the nervous elites of Carcar.

Like the death of Bonifacio at the hands of Aguinaldo, Leon Kilat’s death touches a sensitive nerve even until today. A former officemate who hailed from Carcar once told me in a hushed voice who were principally behind Leon Kilat’s death. It’s funny why he should be speaking to me almost in a whisper. He said that’s just how it is dealt with in Carcar.

Just a few days before his death, the Katipuneros roamed the city victoriously after having driven the Spanish authorities to a pathetic retreat at Fort San Pedro.

I related the story to my 7-year-old son Joshua while touring him around the city, and every now and then he would pepper me with questions of the siege, the drama and the tragedy of those eventful days that began on April 3, 1898.

The Katipuneros intended to starve the Spanish forces holed up in Fort San Pedro, hoping they would eventually surrender. The rest of the city celebrated the triumph of the local Katipuneros. Well, the Parian elite was mostly nonchalant as expected. It was mostly the native sons of San Nicolas who comprised the revolutionary forces.

It still baffles me why they didn’t deliver the decisive blows by storming the fort. Or perhaps they they were just incapable. The ambivalence (if it was) gave time for the Spanish colonialists to send for reinforcement to Cebu, thereby ending the Cebuanos’ short-lived victory.

What happened afterwards is blood curling. Those who participated in what was later known as the battle of Tres de Abril were sought and executed. Even those merely suspected were not spared. Blood of martyrs flowed in the days after Spanish forces regained control of the city.

Others retreated from the city in time. One of them was Leon Kilat or Pantaleon Villegas, leader of the revolutionary forces, native of Bacong, Negros but who came to Cebu to organize the local Katipunan.

He arrived in Carcar, treated to a sumptuous dinner, made to lie in a warm bed. In other words, received with deceitful hospitality for that was all part of the plan. A historian friend of mine disputes some of the known details concerning the treachery. He said ; it was one of Leon Kilat’s men who gave away the secret of his seeming invincibility.

Why the treachery? The group of Carcar leaders who hatched the plan were afraid Spanish forces might storm the town, having heard of what happened ‘ in the city. So they thought killing Leon Kilat would spare them the ire of Spanish authorities.

Today, Leon Kilat’s statue stands proudly riding a horse in a corner of the street leading to the Carcar church.

We are all guilty of killling Leon Kilat or Ninoy Aquino, for that matter when we lose faith in ourselves as a people, in our capacity for greatness. We become a people unworthy of our heroes, a people not worth dying for. It’s when we take pride and inspiration from those whose deaths help us believe in ourselves that they shall have not died in vain.

Well, I’m waxing sentimental again. In this cyber age, my friend Max is making quite a notable contribution. He is making a lot of people interested on the guy Leon. He is bringing him to everyone’s consciousness in chat rooms, discussion groups, blog sites, etc. I guess that’s what I meant about being a Bisaya in the cyber age.