State of Emergency

As of this writing, a State of Emergency has been declared by Philippine President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo. I don’t know yet what this means exactly but I hope it won’t lead to another dictatorship. According to reports I heard over the radio, a coup plot has been foiled, people are marching to the People Power shrine and groups of protesters are gathering in different parts of the Metro. It’s been twenty years since the first (and the only true) People Power Revolution and I can’t help but feel desperate that until now the country is still deep in political turmoil.

I was 13 years old and in first year in high school when the People Power Revolution took place on February 1986. I remember wanting to go to Mendiola (where Malacañang Palace, the official residence of the Philippine President, is located) with my brother to join the protesters then who were calling for the ouster of former President Ferdinand Marcos but our mother wouldn’t allow us. So, we just stayed at home, prayed the rosary, and watched the television to find out what was happening outside.

I remember feeling a bit scared and also excited about what was going on around me. I watched the television and read the newspapers, following the events closely, listening to all the discussions, and forming my own opinions. I was learning a lot about politics - about corruption, power, greed and people’s overwhelming desire for freedom.

Three years before that, I was in the province and the morning after Ninoy Aquino (Marcos’ political arch-enemy and slain husband of former President Corazon Aquino who was placed in power as a result of the People Power Revolution) was killed, I remember my relatives talking about this guy in hushed tones. I didn’t know who he was but I sort of gathered from their hushed tones (the kind they use when they’re saying things against Marcos’ government or when they’re talking about the New People’s Army) that talking about this guy was taboo. That got me all the more intrigued so I remember eavesdropping on their conversations. When I got to school, the teachers were also talking about him in hushed tones. All of them were saying the same things – Marcos had Ninoy killed. Ah, I remember feeling so intrigued. The president of the country killing his political rival – if that is not so komiks, I don’t know what is. Maybe that was the time when I started becoming aware of Philippine politics, I was 11 years old.

Now, I’m 33 and I’m sitting in front of my computer writing this article while rallyists are getting dispersed and prominent activists are getting arrested without warrants and brought to some military camp. Hmmm… this sounds familiar. This has happened before. Philippine history is repeating itself. I better get out of this office and see what’s happening outside.