The 35-Year Century: Why Rizal’s Legacy Echoes from Bagumbayan to Toronto

As I sit here in Toronto, watching the gray December sky settle over Ontario, the city is buzzing with the frantic energy of New Year’s preparations. In just forty-eight hours, we will be celebrating the arrival of 2026. But today, December 30, my mind is pulled back across the Pacific and through a century of history.

Today marks the 129th anniversary of the death of Dr. Jose Rizal.

It was on this morning in 1896 that a young man of 35 years walked calmly toward his execution in Bagumbayan—the place we now honor as Rizal Park. While most of the world was waking up to a standard Tuesday in the late 19th century, the Philippines was witnessing the birth of a legend.

As I reflect on this date, I am struck by a singular realization: December 30 isn't just a day of mourning; it is the day Rizal became eternal.

The Man Who Lived Multiple Lifetimes

It is easy to gloss over the age "35," but when you look at the sheer volume of Rizal's achievements, the math feels impossible. Most people spend their thirties just starting to find their rhythm. Rizal, by that age, had already lived what felt like several decades.

He was a polymath in the truest sense of the word. Consider the breadth of his "advanced" thinking:

• Scientific Precision in a Colonial Era: While in exile in Dapitan, he didn't just sit in despair. He functioned as an engineer, building a dam and a waterworks system that provided clean water to the community. He was a naturalist who discovered species—like the Draco rizali (a flying lizard)—sending specimens to Europe that challenged the scientific community of the time.

• A Visionary for Education: Long before modern "holistic" schooling was a trend, Rizal established a school for local boys where he taught not just academics, but martial arts, gardening, and carpentry. He believed a person must be developed in mind, body, and spirit to be truly free.

• The Power of the Pen: He was an ophthalmologist who could heal eyes, but he used his novels, Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo, to heal the "blindness" of a nation. His writing was so potent that the Spanish authorities considered his books more dangerous than an army.

Why December 30, 1896, Must Remain Unforgettable

We should never forget this date because it represents the ultimate intersection of conviction and sacrifice. Rizal was a man who had every opportunity to live a comfortable, quiet life in Europe. He could have remained a respected doctor in Spain or Germany. Instead, he chose to return to his homeland, knowing full well the risks.

Rizal’s death was the "culmination of a life well-lived." It wasn't a tragedy of a life cut short; it was a masterpiece completed. His execution didn't silence his message; it amplified it. By standing before that firing squad, he proved that his love for his country was not just academic—it was absolute.

His thinking was so far advanced that he saw a future for the Philippines that many of his contemporaries couldn't even imagine—a future of self-governance, dignity, and global respect.

Reflection from a Global Perspective

Being here in Toronto, part of a global diaspora, Rizal’s story feels even more relevant. He was a traveler, an immigrant of sorts, who lived in Madrid, Paris, Berlin, and London. He understood what it meant to look at one’s homeland from a distance and still feel its heartbeat.

As we stand on the threshold of 2026, Rizal’s legacy poses a haunting question to us: What are we doing with our time? Rizal didn't need eighty years to change the world; he did it in thirty-five. He showed us that the impact of a life isn't measured by its duration, but by its depth and the clarity of its purpose.

This December 30, as the snow falls here in Canada, I take a moment to remember the man who stood in the heat of Manila 129 years ago. He gave up his tomorrows so that we could have ours.