The morning of August 29, 1896, Saturday, was uncommon for the commander of the Guardia Civil in Pasig Lt. Manuel Sityar. It was supposed to be "tiangge," but just across the street from his detachment where he stood, he saw the market half empty. From the church down to the plaza, it was silent, strangely silent.
Although Sityar had some knowledge and morbid apprehension about specific gatherings of men in the wee hours months before in his area of designation, he was clueless on what was about to transpire. By dusk, it had become apparent. Pasig Katipuneros were attacking the Spanish detachment. Sityar might have thought only of a small disturbance, but what he was facing that time was non-other than the beginning of the revolution. Later to be called -- "Nagsabado"
Pasig historian Dean Carlos Tech, the foremost narrator of Nagsabado described the event: "Nightfall of August 29, the men from the Pasig barrios of Pineda, Bagong Ilog and Ugong crossed the San Mateo River to Maybunga, where they joined the forces from Santolan, Rosario, Maybunga, Palatiw, Sagad, Poblacion, Pinagbuhatan, Bambang, Kalawaan, Buting and other barrios of Pasig. After some final battle instructions, the gallant sons of Pasig, armed with scythes, bolos, spears, a few guns, and their determination to fight for freedom under the leadership of General Cruz, marched to attack the town. The townsfolk, who were in a fiesta mood, lined the streets, cheering their heroes on. (It was a precursor of the fiesta mood of the Edsa uprising 100 years later.) There were almost 2,000 of them, representing almost every family of Pasig, from all levels of society, in a show of unity against tyranny. At Plaza de Paz, now Plaza Rizal, a sniper in the church tower, hit a man from Bagong Ilog who thus became the first Pasigueño to offer his life on the altar of freedom. The revolutionaries attacked the Tribunal and the Guardia Civil headquarters, in what is now the Guanio residence, capturing 17 de piston rifles and three Remingtons. Manuel Sityar, the Guardia Civil commander, hid in the church tower. It was a glorious night for Pasig, and the whole town rejoiced in that first victory of the revolution, which the old folk remembers as ''Nagsabado.''
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"Nagsabado" diorama at The Pasig City Museum. Photo courtesy of Dr. Ruel Landrito
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First Victory of the Revolution
In his memoir (Memorias Intimas), Sityar has a different account of the uprising. After repelling the attack of Pasig Katipuneros, Sityar went down the church, head to Pateros and even inspected what happened there. The Katipunan revolt in Pateros was bolder and also bloodier compare to that of Pasig.
What happened then the following days when the Guardia civil reinforcement arrived in Pasig? If ever it was a victory, it was short-lived -- Valentin Cruz with his men joined Bonifacio's group and eventually got routed in Pinaglabanan. Cruz was captured then tortured. He was tied to a rope whereby his body was submerged headfirst to the river "Bitukang Manok." He endured the torture and was later exiled to the Marianas.
In an open forum part of the Centennial celebration in the late 1990s, commemorating the events of "Nagsabado," Pasig historian Carlos Tech was asked how many Guardia Civil was with Sityar at that time, he answered, only four. When asked how many casualties were there on the side of the Pasig Katipunan, there was only one. There was a common understanding among those who attended on the need to expound more on the historical accounts. Some even took a dig on the number of soldiers under Sityar's command.
Revival or Revision?
In the last years, there has been a growing interest in Pasig about the events of Nagsabado. It can be likened perhaps to the revivalist atmosphere seen during the Centennial celebration. There are also discussions about its significance to the present socio-political situation. But the fundamental questions about the August 29, 1896 event in Pasig remains unanswered -- Above all of this, is this seeming absence of the word "Nagsabado" in almost all Katipunan documents during and after the revolution. We can directly reason out perhaps that it is entirely a historical event that is uniquely Pasigueno. But who coined the term? Why this desire to define it as a victory when details and explanations point to the fact that it can never be accepted as a real military victory? Are we falling to a kind of revisionism?
Nagsabado: Between Myth and Memory
So was Nagsabado an instance of overly glorifying the facts? Or perhaps a one-sided interpretation of a historical episode designed to cast the Pasigueño in the character of “progressive resistance” against tyranny and colonialism? What, in truth, was the real purpose of the action in Pasig?
Sityar’s account tells us that during the lull in the attack on the church, the Pasig Katipuneros began to withdraw from the plaza. By dawn, the attackers were gone. Meanwhile, Santiago Álvarez, in his memoir The Katipunan and the Revolution, notes the arrival of General Valentín Cruz in San Juan to join the Supremo. He adds that the Pasigueño Katipuneros brought with them seventeen firearms.
All accounts converge on a key revelation: the firearms. The action in Pasig was not an isolated uprising for spectacle’s sake but rather a calculated move to neutralize the guardia civil stationed in town and to seize the weapons kept in the cuartel. In the larger frame, the Katipuneros of Pasig under Valentín Cruz marched to Pinaglabanan, fighting alongside the Supremo himself. Who were these people, then, if not the vanguard of a struggle that rippled beyond their own town?
Still, a Glorious Event for Pasig
Whatever interpretation Nagsabado may invite today—whether as a possible embellishment or a partisan rendering of events—one truth holds firm. In time, when more documents of our past have been gathered, and when our children are able to debate it with clearer reason, even if the word Nagsabado should be proven to be no more than a crafted label, the fact will remain: on the night of August 29, 1896, Pasigueños stood for their freedom. They struck the first move that would set our nation on the path toward independence. In this light, Nagsabado may not only stand for its name, but for the spirit it was meant to embody—the enduring resolve of Pasig to be at the forefront of the struggle for self-determination and liberty.
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