Their reasons were mostly racist—they were Filipinos, and they were unfit to serve as priests. But the underlying motivation was purely economic—more Filipino priests controlling key churches would shake the established status quo or, worse, they could lead a rebellion just like in Mexico or Peru.

In his younger years, he was just as militant, fighting for the rights of the secular clergy and agrarian reform, which made him a wholly unpopular figure among the Spanish landed elite. In 1822, he launched a campaign to provide amnesty for Cavite peasants who were forced to take up arms. He was an old liberal, through and through, riding the crest of the liberal wave of the early 19th century. But the events of the Novales revolt and its aftermath led Gomez to lie low and accept the status quo. By 1872, he was an old man, weary and resigned that little will change in his lifetime.

One day in 1872, he received a letter that one of his gambler friends had “bullets and gunpowder”—code for a lot of cash. That note fell into Spanish authorities and branded him as the one thing they feared the most: a native priest trying to start a revolution.

The cards fell badly for Zamora soon after. An unrelated arrest warrant for another Jose Zamora was given to him and he died in the man’s place. He was 36 at the time.

As a priest, he co-headed a reform committee and was keen on seeing Filipinos taking up more positions in the Church. He saw the Philippine Church as rightfully belonging to the Filipinos—by that he meant the insulares, Spaniards born in the Philippines. But it was that budding nationalism that made him dangerous. In the eyes of the Spanish elite, he was a young upstart trying to upend the established system. That’s why in 1872, he was implicated in the Cavite mutiny—the mutineers were calling out for Burgos, proclaiming him “Rey indio,” native King. He was 35 when he was sentenced to die.

The mutiny was quickly crushed, but the Spanish regime under the reactionary governor Rafael de Izquierdo magnified the incident and used it as an excuse to clamp down on those Filipinos who had been calling for governmental reform. A number of Filipino intellectuals were seized and accused of complicity with the mutineers. After a brief trial, three priests—José Burgos, Jacinto Zamora, and Mariano Gómez.

The death of Gomburza solidified the nascent nationalism felt by so many. The concept of “Filipino” and what is “Philippine” only grew from there. Besides Rizal, the Katipunan also grew emboldened by the liberal ideas which propelled their inadvertent martyrdom, even going so far as using Gomburza as a password.