The Martial Law Baby
They call us Martial Law babies, the generation who grew up under the regime of Ferdinand Marcos. The children who were force-fed images of a perfect society. Martial Law however was about stringent media control, economic plunder and rigged referenda and elections. It was not surprising that we grew up to the most vocal and politicized generation of Filipinos. By the time we reached voting age, we had become seditious and defiant. Grown up, we aligned ourselves with Edgar Jopson, Chino Roces, Lorenzo Tanada and many others who aspired for freedom and democracy.
And so when Ninoy Aquino, Marcos’ main political adversary was gunned down at the airport tarmac on his return to Manila from exile on August 21, 1984, a majority of those who took the reins to oust Marcos were the idealistic youth. We joined Ayala Avenue’s yellow ticker-tape parades, sung “Bayan Ko” with clenched fists raised in the air and tied yellow ribbons all around as a symbol of protest against the crony dictatorship. Our elders who had been stifled by the harsh sweeping actions of Proclamation 1081 (the Presidential proclamation that had put the whole Philippines under Martial Law) remained cautious but we were contagious. There is something about youth that makes us think we are immortal that affords us the luxury of boldness.
Proud moments that been when we as a people stood by each other on EDSA on February 21, 1986 for People Power when Marcos was ousted from his grip to power with a helicopter ride in the darkness of night like a fleeing thief. A proud moment was when we finally give birth to a new fragile democracy with Aquino’s widow; when the bull returned to the stock market and the economy gained confidence. Proud moment was when finally, employment was abundant with the mushrooming of export processing zones.
It seems only like yesterday when those proud moments afforded us to walk with our heads held high. When it was easy to declare that you are Filipino. I wonder now if it is the same now that 20 years after our freedom from Marcos’ reign, seems nothing has changed. Politically, the same old faces are back, just under a different parties. The people we have entrusted the future of our country on are now selling us piece-meal, it seems. How easy we forgive, easier still that we have forgotten. The economy is in a stagnant stage, the exodus of people who wants to work and just be elsewhere continues. The brain drain is creating a vacuum even at the Philippine Senate and Congress!
Hey, but who am I to speak of heroic nationalism when I am in another country oblivious to what goes on in the Philippines. I have not voted in 2 elections and I couldn’t care less if the peso fluctuated against the dollar for it’ll mean more value to the dollars that I send home. I probably shouldn’t give a rat’s ass if the majority of the population voted for another action figure (nyek!) actor pala for the presidency. In the end, I can always retort on this stupidity that you get what you deserve or that you reap what you sow.
But I do care. I carry a Philippine passport, I speak the language, I was born and raised in that country where in my many explorations I discovered beautiful beaches, wonderful people and a culture so varied, so unique and so rich that I still take pride of owning it. I would like to raise my child to be proud of her heritage.
Sadly, though, it seems what the country needs to go beyond the rhetoric. It needs a moving spirit that can stir up once again the nationalism in this country and empower the people to determine their future and for the next generation. Hopefully, it will not be another hero in a coffin nor a devious selfish ruler who will slap us back to patriotism.
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake
By: Rabindranath Tagore
And so when Ninoy Aquino, Marcos’ main political adversary was gunned down at the airport tarmac on his return to Manila from exile on August 21, 1984, a majority of those who took the reins to oust Marcos were the idealistic youth. We joined Ayala Avenue’s yellow ticker-tape parades, sung “Bayan Ko” with clenched fists raised in the air and tied yellow ribbons all around as a symbol of protest against the crony dictatorship. Our elders who had been stifled by the harsh sweeping actions of Proclamation 1081 (the Presidential proclamation that had put the whole Philippines under Martial Law) remained cautious but we were contagious. There is something about youth that makes us think we are immortal that affords us the luxury of boldness.
Proud moments that been when we as a people stood by each other on EDSA on February 21, 1986 for People Power when Marcos was ousted from his grip to power with a helicopter ride in the darkness of night like a fleeing thief. A proud moment was when we finally give birth to a new fragile democracy with Aquino’s widow; when the bull returned to the stock market and the economy gained confidence. Proud moment was when finally, employment was abundant with the mushrooming of export processing zones.
It seems only like yesterday when those proud moments afforded us to walk with our heads held high. When it was easy to declare that you are Filipino. I wonder now if it is the same now that 20 years after our freedom from Marcos’ reign, seems nothing has changed. Politically, the same old faces are back, just under a different parties. The people we have entrusted the future of our country on are now selling us piece-meal, it seems. How easy we forgive, easier still that we have forgotten. The economy is in a stagnant stage, the exodus of people who wants to work and just be elsewhere continues. The brain drain is creating a vacuum even at the Philippine Senate and Congress!
Hey, but who am I to speak of heroic nationalism when I am in another country oblivious to what goes on in the Philippines. I have not voted in 2 elections and I couldn’t care less if the peso fluctuated against the dollar for it’ll mean more value to the dollars that I send home. I probably shouldn’t give a rat’s ass if the majority of the population voted for another action figure (nyek!) actor pala for the presidency. In the end, I can always retort on this stupidity that you get what you deserve or that you reap what you sow.
But I do care. I carry a Philippine passport, I speak the language, I was born and raised in that country where in my many explorations I discovered beautiful beaches, wonderful people and a culture so varied, so unique and so rich that I still take pride of owning it. I would like to raise my child to be proud of her heritage.
Sadly, though, it seems what the country needs to go beyond the rhetoric. It needs a moving spirit that can stir up once again the nationalism in this country and empower the people to determine their future and for the next generation. Hopefully, it will not be another hero in a coffin nor a devious selfish ruler who will slap us back to patriotism.
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake
By: Rabindranath Tagore