A new Edsa spring

At around this time of the school year in the past decades, college students would send requests for interviews—face-to-face, online, or video recording in a venue of their or my choice—for their school projects or theses. The subject matter: the state of press freedom under the Marcos dictatorship, my personal experiences as a journalist during the martial law years. I would mutter to myself, “It’s that time of year again.” And, yes, with the thought, how did they know whom to pick? Who told them about what happened and why was it important to dig deeper?
The requests would come via email, respectfully written, with groups of three or four introducing themselves, stating the name of their school, the purpose, format, and length of the interview. Advance questions could be sent if I so requested. Perhaps anticipating that I might not be able to do the interview, they would ask for an alternative interviewee and contact details. Bad news if the one requesting is a parent doing it on behalf of an entitled offspring.
It is not easy repeating oneself again and again and recalling painful and fearsome events.
In response to one request or two, I asked if a 30-minute video recording of myself, with accompanying martial law-era photos and illustrations flashed while I was speaking, would suffice. The answer was yes. This particular video recording was done two years ago for the online Canada launch of my book “Press Freedom Under Siege: Reportage that Challenged the Marcos Dictatorship” (University of the Philippine Press, 2019). I could not be fully present at the multipurpose online event spearheaded by Toronto-based journalist Mila Garcia, publisher (with husband Hermie) of The Philippine Reporter. After the video presentation, I appeared live on Zoom (in the same clothes I was wearing in the video!) to answer questions as if I was there all along. How cool was that, thanks to the New York-based young Fil-Am techie who was part of the organizing group.
Two days ago, I received a letter from a granddaughter of someone included in the book and asking about it. (Hint: he was involved in the investigation of the assassination of former senator Ninoy Aquino.) His granddaughter has a background in philosophy and ethics of memory, studied transitional justice in Europe and now exploring “memorialization practices in post-conflict societies.”
I mention these to bolster the observation that many young Filipinos here and abroad are interested in what happened during the February 1986 people power uprising that began on Edsa (Epifanio de los Santos Ave.) and sparked the same all over the country, but who also need to know what happened in the years that preceded the downfall of the Marcos dictatorship. In this regard, I always suggest viewing the documentary “Batas Militar” produced by Inquirer founding chair Eugenia D. Apostol’s Foundation for Worldwide People Power, with Kara Magsanoc-Alikpala as executive producer, or Mike de Leon’s “Signos” which is in YouTube.
A smile formed on my face when I read the Inquirer news report with the headline: “Students keep ‘Edsa’ spirit alive” the day after the Edsa People Power Revolution 39th anniversary that saw thousands celebrating, remembering and, most of all, crying out for the destruction of the forces of evil that are presently plaguing the homeland. If, in the past couple of years, people power seemed like only a memory—given the stifling COVID-19 pandemic lockdowns—recent events surely ignited people’s desire to come out and express their disgust and concern. Second-generation activists were out on the streets—students, priests, religious and seminarians, office and factory workers, urban poor groups—with catchphrases and slogans of their own.
A big group came shrouded in black, others in yellow and pink. Seminarians in their white cassocks came chanting the “Ave Maria,” with emphasis on the second stanza. Franciscan friars strode in their brown hooded habits as part of Clergy and Citizens for Good Governance.
Women from different congregations, among them the Benedictines, Carmelite Missionaries, Holy Spirit Sisters, the Religious of the Good Shepherd and their young members, came with their own homemade placards. Most were in religious habits, others in informal streetwear but looking every inch the militant churchwomen that they are. Thank heavens for the placard that said, “Defend Press Freedom.”
Not to be outdone, Seniors on the Move carried a black streamer calling out both the Marcoses and the Dutertes. They cover a myriad of sins, too many to enumerate, that cry to the heavens for retribution:
“Isulong ang diwa ng Edsa. Sara litisin. Marcos singilin. Duterte panagutin. (Keep alive the spirit of Edsa. Impeach Vice President Sara Duterte for her unexplained use of funds. Charge Marcos for his family’s ill-gotten wealth. Make former president Duterte answerable for the thousands of drug war deaths.)”
Bravo to the young, the strong, and the dauntless who carried the day.
—————-
Send feedback to cerespd@gmail.com
Global growth via China-EU cooperation