December 10, 2011

SAMPAGUITA


This morning Little Comrade
gave me a flower’s bud
I look at it now
remembering you, Felix,
dear friend and comrade
and all the brave sons and daughters
of our suffering land
whose death
makes our blades sharper
gives our bullets
surer aim.

How like this pure white bud
are our martyrs
fiercely fragrant with love
for our country and people!
With what radiance they should still have unfolded!

But sadness should not be
their monument. 
Whipped and lashed desperately
by bombed-raised storms
has not our Asian land
continued to bloom?

Look how bravely our ranks
bloom into each gap.
With the same intense purity and fragrance
we are learning to overcome.


             - Ma. Lorena Barros 
               Summer of 1973
               Published in Ulos





SAMPAGITA

Kaninang umaga ang Munting Kasama’y
naghandog ng buko ng bulaklak.
Minamasdan ko iyon ngayong
Ginugunita kita, Felix,
Mahal na kaibigan at kasama
At lahat ng magiting na anak
Ng ating nagdurusang bayan
Na ang mga kamatayan ay
Nagpatalas sa ating mga sundang
At nagbigay sa ating mga punglo
Ng tiyak na puntirya…

Katulad nitong dalisay na talulot
ang ating mga martir
na may bangis at halimuyak sa pagmamahal
sa ating bayan at mamamayan!
anong rikit ng liwanag na dapat pa nilang ibukadkad!

Ngunit hindi lungkot ang dapat
nilang bantayog.
Hinaplit sa kawalang pag-asa
ng sigwa ng mga bomba
Di nga ba’t ang ating Asya
ay patuloy na namumulaklak?

Masdan kung gaano katapang ang ating hanay
na bumukadkad bawat patlang.
Nang may katulad na masidhing kadalisayan at halimuyak
Natututo tayong magwagi.

(Salin ni Joel B. Saracho)




















November 12, 2011

Sulat sa Ina, Hulyo 23, 1973



23 Hulyo 1973

Mahal kong ina at kasama -

Labis kong ikinalulungkot na hindi tayo nakapagpaalam nang harapan.  Kay rami pa nating pag-uusapan!  Subalit kailangang makasapat ang sulat na ito.  Nais kong ipaabot sa iyo ang nilalaman ng ilang pahina mula sa aking notebook.

Ang una ay may petsang Mayo 21.  Katatanggap ko pa lang ng isa mong liham:

“Pagkat ikaw lang ang magulang na kinagisnan ko, labis-labis ang pagmamahal ko sa iyo mula pa sa aking pagkabata.  Subalit ang lahat ng taong minahal kita bilang magulang ay katumbas lang ng isang taong minahal kita bilang kasama.  Kahit iilang pagkakataon lang tayo nagkita sa loob ng taong ito ay kay lapit ng ating kalooban sa isa’t isa.  Totoong maraming sandaling nais kong makapiling ka, ihinga sa iyo ang lahat ng kalungkutang di ko maaring ipakita sa mga kasama pagkat dapat ay lagi tayong masigla.  Subalit isipin ko lang na mauunawaan mo ako ng lubo ay gumagaan na ang aking loob.  Mapalad ako sa pagkakaroon ng isang komunistang ina!

“Lagi kong  naaalala ang iyong huling sulat. Nabanggit mo ang inyong paghihirap kung paano halos lamang-tiyan na lang ang kinakain ng aking mga maliliit na kapatid.  Subalit wala ni anino ng pagkalunos sa iyong mga  salita – parang malamig na tubig sa naghahapding sugat ang iyong sinabi:  “ang pagsumikapan nating dalawa ay ang parating manatiling matatag at masigla lalo na sa harap ng ibang kasama”.  Kay palad ko sa iyo, ina! Kahit minsan ay di ako nakarinig sa iyo ng panunumbat, gayong kung di ko inilaan ang aking buong buhay sa rebolusyon ay marahil di kayo maghihirap nang ganito.  Naghahapdi ang aking kalooban tuwing maiisip kong nagugutom kayo ng aking mga kapatid.  Lumalaki sila at kailangan nila ng masustansiyang pagkain.  Masakit sa aking isiping wala akong tuwirang maitulong sa inyo.  Inip na inip  na akong makalabas at sumapi sa ating magiting na hukbo! Isulong ang digmaang bayan upang lalong mapabilis ang pagbagsak ng bulok na lipunan!

“Bago ko matanggap ang iyong sulat, kung anu-anong “multo’t halimaw” ang nasa isipan ko.  Lagi akong malungkot, nangingibabaw sa akin ang dalamhati  para sa mga kasamang nadakip o nasawi at sa kanilang mga naiwang mahal sa buhay.  Ngayon masigla ko na muling nahaharap ang bawat araw.  Sino ang makaiisip na ikaw, ang awtoridad na pinaghimagsikan ko nuong aking kabataan, ay siyang magandang halimbawa sa akin ngayon!  Anong mga milagro ang di nagagawa ng pakikibakang dakila tulad ng sa atin!”

Ang tulang  ito ay may petsang 11 Hulyo 1973

            Ina

Ano ang isang ina?
Mayamang hapag ng
gutom na sanggol
Kumot sa gabing maginaw
Matamis na uyayi
Tubig
sa naghahapding sugat

Ngunit ano ang isang
komunistang Ina?

Maapoy na tanglaw
tungo sa liwayway
Sandigang bato
Lupang bukal ng lakas
sa digma.
katabi sa labanan at
alalay sa tagumpay
Ang ina ko

-           Cita Tagumpay

Hindi ko na kailangang sabihin pa na umaasa ako sa iyong pagsubaybay sa aming anak.  Ibuhos mo sa kanya ang damdaming-ina na di ko maipadama – hanggang sa panahong makukuha ko na siya, na sana’y di hihigit sa  isang taon.

Hanggang sa muli.  Huwag kang mag-alala sa akin.  Ipaaabot ko ang iyong pangungumusta sa ama ni lengleng.

                                                            Sa rebolusyon,

                                                            ang  iyong anak

September 16, 2011

YOU ARE LORD


We step to a stately measure
you and I sedately flirt
around each other

you
will not have me ardent: emotion
is unsophisticated.
To speak of love we must
quote; your aesthetic will not
admit of creative stutter.

well
you are lord
and I must wait, but

there are only so many steps to
a dance, and only so many words
to Byron.

Why there is no need for M. Fred
                in Modern Society

We all of us are
aluminum pots
crack proof.
dented?  easier
replaced than mended.


                                                           - Ma. Lorena Barros
              Philippine Collegian
              May 22, l966  


















August 7, 2011


17 Enero 1976

Mga kasama,

Bagamat medyo huli na, maalab na pagbati sa ika-7 anibersaryo ng ating Partido. Dumating ang inyong mga sulat bago mag-Pasko at tunay na nakapagdagdag ito sa diwa ng pagdiriwang. Kay sayang makarinig mula sa mga napalayong kasama! Hindi kami nakapagpadala ng sagot noong huling lakad ng kom pagkat nagipit sa panahon. Sa panig ko, pawang mga opisyal na sulat at ulat lang ang nakaya kong tapusin. Kaya nga’t para sa ulat na ito’y sinamantala ko ang madaling araw. Totoong napakabigat ng iskedyul namin lalo na ngayon.

Ang sonang gerilya na kinapapalooban ko ay nasa panahon na naman ng pamamasok ng kaaway. Patapos na ang tag-ulan at muli na naman nilang matatawid ang mga ilog at dagat. Napakahalagang maihanda ang Partido, hukbo at masa upang ito’y makapanatili ng sarili at huwag madurog ng kaaway. Malaki ang pagkahawig ng sonang ito sa mga sona sa CL. Relatibong malapit sa malalaking sentro at linya ng komunikasyon, malaki ang taya ng mga naghaharing uri at dayuhang kapitalista, bagamat bulubundukin at may ilang bahaging prontera. Noong nakaraang taon, laban sa ating dadalawang iskuwad gerilya na halos pawang single-shot ang mga baril, nagbuhos ang kaaway ng isang batalyong PC-PA tropa. Ang layunin ng operasyon ay “inisin sa duyan” ang rebolusyonaryong kilusan ditto; alam ng kaaway na maliit at mahina pa ang ating puwersa.

Bagamat 5 kasamang kadre at mandirigma ang napatay sa operasyon at 2 namumunong kadre ang nadakip bukod sa mahigit isandaang masa na dinakip o binugbog bigo ang kaaway, nananatiling buo ang ating hanay at matatag tayong maling nagbangon. Sabi nga, muli tayong tumayo, magpahid ng dugo’s malibing ang mga kasamang nasawi at mahigpit na humawak ng sandata upang muling humarap sa kaaway.

Nitong mga huling buwan, ang organisasyon ng Partido sa sona ay naglagom ng karanasan upang makita ang naging mga kahusayan at kahinaan sa nakaraang pagkilos. Marubdob na nag-aral ang buong kasapian sa mga ginanap na komperensyang pangteorya. Naging malinaw sa mga kasama ang mga katangian ng sona at kung paano sa nakaraang pagkilos ay naging hiwalay sa kongkretong kalagayan ang naitakda at naisagawang programa. Pangunahing tendensya ang bahid ng dogmatismo at “kaliwang paglihis”, naging labis ang pagtaya sa sariling puwersa at lubhang matayog ang mga ambisyon. Sa kaparaanan ng pagwawasto, lalong napalalim ang pag-unawa ng buong kasapian sa digmaang bayan at maraming natutuhan hinggil sa paglapat ng MLMTT (Marksismo-Leninismo-Kaisipang MaoTsetung) sa mga aktwal na kalagayan. Sa ngayon, natapos na ang malaking bahagi ng pagwawasto at panloob na konsolidasyon; nasa yugto na ng pagbigay ng pangunahing diin sa pampulitikang gawain. Makailang ulit na mas handa ang ating subhetibong puwersa sa pagharap sa panibagong pananalakay ng kaaway. Kung maiiwasan ang naging mga kamalian sa nakaraan, di magtatagal at malalagay na tayo sa kalagayang makapaglulunsad ng taktikal na pananalakay sa kaaway.

Sa gitna ng ganitong kalagayan, marahil mauunawaan ninyo kung bakit medyo nadiskaril ako sa ilang mga nakuhang impresyon mula sa inyong mga sulat. Lubog na lubog ako sa kalagayan ng digmaan at medyo nagitla ako sa nakitang kalagayan ng ilang mga kasama – na wala sa digmaan o parang wala sa digmaan. Ngunit sa panahong namagitan mula noong una kong mabasa ang inyong mga sulat at ngayon, napag-isipan ko na ito ng mas malalim at nakikita kong maging ang mga kasamang sa wari’y wala sa digmaan ay nakapaloob ito at di mahihiwalay na bahagi nito. Halimbawa na lang, di ba’t halos pawang nabilanggo na tayo? Naging POWs (Prisoners of War)?

At ngayon ang iba sa atin ay nakabalik sa pangunahing agos samantalang ang iba’y naging DPs (displaced persons o water lilies sa terminolohiya ng lungsod). May ilan ding pansamantalang nahiwalay, hindi dahil sa pagkabilanggo kundi dahil sa ibang pangyayari tulad ng dislokasyon sa organisasyon ng Partido na dulot rin ng digmaan. Lahat tayo ay nasa digmaan pati na ang mga walang kamuwangmuwang tulad ng mga sanggol at taong di mulat. Ito ang ating obhetibong kalagayan. Nagkakaroon lamang ng kaibahan sa antas ng mga may kamalayang kapasiyahan na pumaloob sa digmaan at maging bahagi ng puwersang nagtatakda ng direksyon nito at tagumpay. Maari tayong dalhin na lang ng agos ng rebolusyon. At maari tayong siyang maging motibong puwersa nito, bahagi ng talibang organisasyon. Ngunit ito’y sa kasalukuyang yugto lang ng digmaan. Sa pag-unlad nito, tayong may kamalayan at karanasan na pipilitin at pipilitin ng kalagayang manguna sa rebolusyonaryong agos o sumalungat rito. Ito ang sinasabing “burden of awareness”. Hindi na natin maisasara ang mata ng diwang namulat na. Pansamantala, maaring mahilom ito, mapuwing. Subalit kamatayan na lang ang makapagpipikit. Kayat mulat tayong mananangan ng sandata para sa sambayanan o para sa mga mapagsamantala’t mapang-api, alin lang sa dalawa.

Tulad ng sabi ni Kasamang Virgie, “we believe in you like hell.” Bagamat naipamukha na sa atin ng mga katulad ni Ramon na may ilang magtataksik sa rebolusyon mula sa kaloob-loobang hanay natin, hindi nasira ang tiwala ko sa nakararaming kasama. Buo ang pananalig ko na habang nakikitunggali tayo sa sarili ay magagapi ang anumang multo’t halimaw tulad ng pesimismo at pagpapabaya sa rebolusyonaryong tungkulin. Napakagandang senyales, sa wari ko, ang nasasalaming “self consciousness” sa inyong pagtaya sa sarili, ang kawalang pagkukunwari at walang kurap na pagtingin sa katotohanan. Bagamat nababalot sa madidilim na salita, ito’y may hugis ng pag-asa. Kundi’y hindi na marahil kayon mag-aabalang sumulat sa amin.

Paano ko kaya maipahihiwatig kung paano lalung tumining sa isipan ko at damdamin ang kahulugan ng katagang “kasama” nang mabasa ko ang inyong liham? Tunay na nagkakalayo tayo sa pisikal na distansya at kinapapaloobang kapaligiran – ibang iba ang ating mga kalagayan – subalit naroon at di maipagkakamali ang init ng halik at yakap, ang marubdob na pagmamahalan na isinilang at binubuhay ng rebolusyon. Sabi nga ni Kasamang Cheng, alam na natin ang tibok ng bawat isa – hindi man ito lubusang nagkakasabay.

Sana ay maunawaan niyo kung iisang sulat lang ang magawa ko sa ngayon para sa inyong lahat. May mga partikulat akong karanasan at kaisipan na nais ibahagi sa mga particular na kasama subalit kailangang mamili ako sa isang sulat o wala muna. Ayaw ko namang magpadala ng maraming sulat na pawang telegrama. Huwag niyo naman sana ako gantihan ng isang “joint letter” din! Nais kong maging mas malalim ang pang-unawa sa inyong buhay. Napakarami ring nais kong mabalitaan hinggil sa lungsod, sa mga isyu na mainit ngayon, sa kalagayang pangkultura, sa mga masalimuot na maniobrahan sa hanay ng mga reaksyonaryo, pag-unlad ng pandaigdigang kalagayan atbp atbp atbp. Napakahalaga sa amin rito na bihirang makabasa ng pahayagan o makapakinig ng radio, ng inyong buhay na pagsusuri sa pambansa at pandaigdigang mga pangyayari, kundi’y magiging napakakitid ng aming kamalayan – at ito’y maaring magbunga ng subhetismo o lokalismo. Tiyak na maraming bagay na “taken for granted” na ninyo subalit bago sa amin (at siempre vice, versa). Huwag tayong manghinawa o tamarin na sumulat sa isa’t isa. Mali ang sabi ni Kasamang Ine na di siya maaring maging ka-koresponsal ng mga tulad naming nasa kanayunan. Marami kayong alam na di namin alam. At hindi kami interesado sa mga magagandang balita lamang. Ang lahat, pati kapaitan at kasakitan ng isa’t isa, ay makabuluhan sa ating pag-aaral hinggil sa kabuuan ng buhay ng tao sa daigdig, at sa paglikha natin ng tunay na makataong lipunan.

Kaya, sa madaling salita, SUMULAT KAYO NG MAS MAHABA, hane?

Bukod sa pagsulat, nais sana naming hilingin ang inyong patuloy na pagtulong sa pag-solicit ng mga pangangailangan dito. Maraming maliliit ngunti mahalagang mga bagay na maari niyong ipadala, tulad ng medyas, bonnets, kumot, panlamig, ballpens, notebooks, notepads, scissors, nailcutters, needles and thread, paper clips and fasteners, business envelopes, manila envelopes, large and small plastic bags, flashlights, batteries, jungle knives, medicines, pagkaing naitatabi o naiimbak tulad ng de lata at daing at mga instant foods gaya ng Royco soups, vetsin, pantalon at t-shirt na dark colored at madaling matuyo, mga sako, raincoats, toothbrushes, toothpaste, sabon atbp atbp. Kung magagawa niyong magsolicit kahit small amounts nito at tipunin bago ipadala rito, napakalaking tulong talaga. May particular na pangangailangan rin dito ngayon ng tutulong ng research hinggil sa mga vested interests dito. Maari ba kayong tumulong?

At lalo’t higit, may malaking pangangailangan para sa mga kasamang gaganap sa gawaing liyason. Sino kaya sa inyo ang puwede? Kakailanganing mag-commute sa lalawigan mga dalawang beses sa isang buwan, magsagawa ng alliance work at pumasok sandali sa sona upang makapanayam ng lubos hinggil sa gawain. Ano ang inyong palagay? Sabik naming hihintayin ang application forms.

Lampas 8:00 a.m. na at dumating ngayon lang ang mga kasama sa hukbo. Pawang pagod sila mula sa mahabang lakad at mabigat na pasanin, ngunit masisigla at maraming kuwento. Marami na muling gagawin kung kaya’t kailangang putulin na ito. Ang dalang balita ng mga kasama ay may nakatakdang pulong ngayon sa isang baryo na kalapit dito, pupulungin ng mga PC (Philippine Constabulary) ang masa pagkat sosonahin raw itong lugar. Malamang na sisimulan na muli ang konsentrasyon ng masa sa mga sentro ng baryo bilang paghahanda sa operasyon.


Sige, talagang kailangan nang tumigil.

MAKIBAKA, HUWAG MATAKOT!

Sa tagumpay,

Ka Luz














July 8, 2011

AT FOUR O’CLOCK, OR FIVE

At four o’clock, or five,
the neons leave the city to the dawn.
It comes, silent and spare,
swept in by cleaners’ brooms.  Taxis
are once more busy; the streets stretch
and lengthen every sound from the warming motors.
White light spreads over the white cement;
beneath the bridges huddled sleepers stir,
turn over, and sleep again.
Growing slowly heavy and opaque the white light
spreads over the commonplace of dogs
inspecting garbage.
Carbined watchmen nodding at warehouse doors,
blind capiz windows.
Footsteps drag on the wooden stairs.
His sanded lids, thick tongue seek
Comfort in a pillow.  Soon the reeking breath
has filled the room, and once more darkens it
against the dawn.

                                                                -  Ma. Lorena Barros
                                                                   undated; unpublished 


June 19, 2011

LIBERATED WOMEN II
by Ma. Lorena Barros
Pugadlawin Taon 18 Blg. 3; Enero-Pebrero, l971

The oppression of women in Philippine society cannot be isolated from the oppressive character of the society as a whole. Filipino women comprise what has been described by Juliet Mitchell (in Women: the Longest Revolution) as “half a totality.” Filipino women are fundamental to the Filipino condition; their oppression must reflect a fundamentally oppressive system of social relationships.

And indeed if we look at Philippine society as a whole, we find that it is a society characterized by the oppression and exploitation of the many by the few. More exactly, it is a society where the peasants and workers (90%) of the total population, and to a lesser but no less real extent, the students, professionals, small businessmen and the national bourgeoisie (9%) are systematically deceived and coerced to submit to the greedy domination of the U.S. Imperialists, the comprador bourgeoisie, the landlords and the bureaucrat capitalists (1%) who run the country. (See Amado Guerrero, Philippine Society and Revolution).

Much remains to be done in the field of research in order to locate the exact mechanisms by which the oppression of women contribute integrally to the maintenance of the oppressive status quo. Several writers have given important clues. Margaret Bensten (in the Political Economy of Women’s Liberation) has written about the huge amount of socially necessary labor performed by women in the home which goes uncompensated. She has further pointed out that this peculiar relation to production produces women who are “conservative, fearful, supportive of the status quo.”

Other writers on the subject, such as Juliet Mitchell, (ibid.) and Laurel Limpus, (in Liberation of Women,) have similarly pointed to the family as the central factor in the oppression of women and their inhuman use in preserving and sustaining an unjust social system. F. Engels, as early as l902 wrote that “Monogamy was the first form of the family founded not on natural, but on economic conditions, viz: the victory of private property over primitive and natural collectivism” (The Origin of the Family).

Although by standards of contemporary bourgeois social science (which has developed more instruments of measurements than useful concepts for comprehending social phenomena) the literature on women’s liberation may be said to be impressionistic and inexact, it is clear at any rate that imply because “women are the other half” and are thus an integral part of society, their oppression is integral to the oppressive nature of the society as a whole.

Therefore, as Juliet Mitchell wrote: “Since the problems that face women are related to the structure of the whole society, ultimately our study of our particular situation as women will lead us to the realization that we must attempt to change this whole society.”

Women in the Philippines who have become conscious of their oppression have indeed arrived at this realization. The programme of the Malayang Kilusan ng Bagong Kababaihan (MAKIBAKA) states:

To liberate the creative potential of women, it is first of all necessary to liberate the Filipino masses of which they are part. No sector of the population can be free from exploitation of any sort unless the primary exploitative relation, that between U.S. Imperialism and domestic feudalism on the one hand and the broad masses of the Filipino people on the other, is totally destroyed. Moreover, it is in their participation in the national struggle for liberation fro feudal and foreign oppression that women can achieve their own liberation.

This position puts the women’s liberation movement in the Philippines squarely in the context of the national democratic revolution. It defines women’s liberation in terms of participation in the revolutionary struggle now assuming unprecedented heights in the cities and the countryside.

And, as such, it suggests a whole new semantic universe for the word “femininity.”


The new femininity

At one point in the December 4 rally protesting the blacklisting of more than 800 student activists from their schools (in which a high school student, Francis Santillano, was brutally slain by fascist hirelings of the Feati Administration), a male demonstrator succinctly defined the new woman, the new femininity. The protest march had entered the UST campus and the marchers were urging the other students to join them. A male demonstrator shouted to some women students watching the marchers from a safe second floor window: “Maganda sana kayo, mga miss, kung nandito kayo sa baba at nakiki-martsa sa amin!” You would be beautiful if you were down here marching with us).” Although he spoke in terms of beauty, since it is primarily in terms of beauty that women are valued, it is clear that he was referring to anew ideal of femininity.

It is an ideal that is a far cry from the Maria Clara satirically described by Rizal but taken as a model by several generation of Filipinos both men and women, who took him too literally. Maria Clara was a social ornament, a weakling who fainted in times of stress and who ran away to a nunnery to hide her head (while her lower region, just like the ostrich’s stuck out in an extremely vulnerable position for Padre Salve’s delectation), a poor sort of human being who could betray the man she loved for the sake of an abstraction such as her own and her dead mother’s “honor”. Maria Clara’s social conscience manifested itself in impulsively donating her necklace to a beggar, a leper. It was beyond her capacity to conceive of more substantial action. In all things, Maria Clara’s supreme quality was submission, a quiet, unprotesting acceptance of her sad fate.


The new woman, the new Filipino, is first and foremost a militant. It is not enough for her to decorate a school window and smile encouragement at the boys marching in protest against student harassment: she must march with them. And since, in the cities, participation in protest marches means not only marching but often also dodging police truncheons, evading precinct-produced Molotovs and pillboxes and trying to get some over to the pigs’ lines oneself, expertise in hitting the ground when the Metrocom or Task Force Lawin or whatever pig force it is start firing, agility in climbing wall, and other requirements of urban street fighting - the new Filipina is one who has learned not only to march, but also to carry herself in these situations with sufficient ease and aplomb to convince the male comrades that they need not take care of her, please.

The new Filipina is one who can stay whole days and nights with striking workers, learning from them the social realities which her bourgeois education has kept from her. This means that she is also ready to picket for hours under the sun, ready to throw herself in front of a truck bearing scabs or materials for the factory’s machines to prevent it from breaking the picket line. More important, this means that she has convinced her parents of the seriousness of her commitment to the workers’ and peasants’ cause, a commitment which keeps her out of the house at all hours of the day and night, and requires all sorts of behavior previously way beyond the bounds of respectable womanhood.

For the militant in the rapidly developing revolutionary situation in which we find Philippine society today, there is never enough time for all the work that has to be done. There are political tracts and manifestoes to mimeograph, correspondence to type, research files to keep in order and update, revolutionary articles to write or reproduce, press releases and other propaganda materials to distribute - to mention only routine , almost clerical tasks. There are discussion groups to organize and sustain, and always several strikes which need support, speeches to make, teach-ins to attend, first aid and nursing classes, fund-raising projects to finance day-to-day activities, a myriad things which require more than 24 hours each day.

The militant has therefore to spend all of her waking hours at the organization headquarters or wherever her political tasks take her; more conveniently, even her sleeping hours. That is, all her time. For most Filipino families, with their traditional feudal set-up, this means virtually being a stowaway, cut off from one’s family and home.

But today we are witnessing a mutation of the Filipino family, especially where daughters are concerned. When the militant girl comes home after several days’ absence, and recounts to her family how the striker just beside her was hit by bullets from goons or police hired to break the strike; or how the house where they had stayed in the province was shot up by Monkees to scare the barrio folk away from their teach-in; or how she felt when she saw carbines aimed point-blank at students by uniformed murderers in the last demonstration- how can it occur to her parents to question her moral behavior when she is away from home? When she leaves again the next morning, unable to say when she would be back, if ever, how can even her mother ask for assurance that she has protected her virginity in the manner she was brought up to (by holding up a wedding ring)? As Franz Fannon, writing about the Algerian women, said: “The militant girl in adopting new patterns of conduct, could not be judged by traditional standards. Old values, sterile and infantile phobias disappeared.”


The Filipina, through her militant participation in the revolutionary struggle, has thus brought to life a new women, this new woman is no longer either a mindless ornament (which she would be if born to a well-to-do family) or a mindless drudge (if she were the wife or daughter of a peasant or worker). She is a woman who has ‘discovered the exalting realm of responsibility’, a woman fully engaged in the making of history, in the destruction of imperialism and feudalism and the building of a new democratic society. No longer is she simply a woman-for-marriage, but more and more a woman-for-action. A comrade.

Strangely enough, this new definition of femininity in terms of revolutionary militancy has not reduced her desirability as a woman, in the eyes of male comrades and also those of the bourgeois beaux she has had to discard because of her politics. The reason may be that just as there has evolved a new femininity, so also is there today a new masculinity a new man.

The new masculinity

For centuries the women of the Philippines have had to accept as fathers, husbands, brothers, sons poor substitutes for men, who walked their own land, with head bowed to the white conquistador and his mestizo offspring. When it was not the white colonialist whipping the Filipino to servility, it was the brown collaborator who had assumed the dress, the speech, the culture of the white masters. The Filipina, a daily witness to this continuous emasculation of her men, developed a concept of masculinity which rejected what she found in them, and instead assumed the characteristics of the colonial master.

Even today this concept of masculine desirability still finds snug habitation in the dark corners of many Filipino women’s minds, perhaps because the white colonial master is still very much around. The real man, the man whom the captive women dreams of, is fair-complexioned, if possible white. He is tall, much taller than the average Malay male can ever be, and is slim and long boned, not squat or stocky. He is hairy, not smooth-skinned and is beautifully Caucasian.

He doesn’t woo, he rapes a women into submission. He speaks a language she does not understand and acts in a manner utterly foreign to her - the result of which is that their relationship is one-sided both ways. Nor would she wish it different. She does not want to understand him at all, for if she does he would surely fall from his pedestal - just as many a Spanish lover who was a dock-hand in Seville before he became a friar in the Philippines or a G.I., who merely cleaned toilet bowls in the army during the war before he made a killing in surplus equipment fell from their pedestals the moment the women understood just what they only were.

For his part the Filipino male developed an image of himself which sought to make up for this inferior status beside the white colonizer. The true Filipino male, according to this defensive myth, is one who drinks savagely, will die rather than lose face or honor, and has one or two wives and several queridas. The philanderer to the nth degree is virile to the nth degree. Because he could not deserve the total respect of one women, the colonized Filipino male sought to make up for the lack by adding on several more half-hearted fragments.


Thus today one finds the jeepney driver who has just been helpless before the extortionist cop finding comfort in the thought that he has at least the choice of which wife to bawl out in retaliation. Or the army general who has been granted two squeaky cannons by the benevolent American advisers of JUSMAG after he begged for two hours for two tanks to use against peasants in Central Luzon, showing off his medals and recounting his glorious war years to his paid querida. Or even the President of the Philippines, gloating at having all-American blonde comforter to remove the bitter taste of mendicancy and servility in his puppet mouth after his annual beggar’s trip to the White House.

In a country where life is hard, unemployment is high and labor cheap, women are more plentiful than men, it is easy enough for a man, virile or not, to collect women, provided he can feed, clothe and shelter them and their children. Domestic and sexual labor, like other kinds of labor in our semi-feudal semi-colonial country, are at the mercy of the economic lords. It is no accident that the top politicians in the country, who are the top puppets and the top consumers of U.S. Imperialist shit, have the most wives. They have the most shattered male egos and rake in the most profits from their emasculation. Not far behind are such types as sugar barons who have to kiss U.S. Imperialist asses to make sure their sugar gets bought, or comprador bosses who like to call themselves industrial magnates but are actually mere financial and trading agents of US Imperialism. And there are of course those, who, whether they can afford it or not, imitate them.

Obviously this type of pseudo-male can have no attraction for the militant girl, the new Filipina. Nor can she want that of the white colonial master, who is used for target practices (lacking guns, a saliva). What is the new masculinity, the new man, who commands the respect not only of the militant girl but also, perhaps more importantly, his own?

There are many concrete examples, so we need not discuss ideal types. Foremost are the fighters in the New People’s Army, the army which that spectacular defector, Lt. Victor Corpus of the PMA, called “the real army of the people.” Bernabe Buscayno or Commander Dante, as the head of the NPA exemplifies the revolutionary fighter’ clever, courageous, heroic, outwitting the puppet troops at every turn and inflicting casualties way out of proportion to his guerilla unit’s arms and number. There is Corpus himself, young, intelligent, intensely patriotic and partisan to the cause of the Filipino masses, and now part of the NPA. Though among young women in the cities this respect and appreciation for the Red Fighters may smack of romanticism, for the peasant lasses in the feudal countryside the NPA soldier is concretely a liberator - and thus very male.

In the cities, there are the many fiery young men who give voice and concrete expression to the people’s struggle for liberation, men like Nonnie Villanueva of the Kabataang Makabayan, the firebrand professor Ramon Sanchez of the Samahang Demokratiko ng Kabataan, Ruben Guevarra of the fighting USTC Labor Union. There are the youth who died fighting terribly unequal battles against the police and the puppet troops of the AFP in Mendiola. There are the young men who do their unspectacular but no less important jobs quietly and efficiently in the mass organizations, in this way contributing hugely to the total revolutionary effort.


In brief, what defines the new masculinity is revolutionary militance. Not the Caucasian good looks, not the number of women conquered or bought, but the contribution he is making to the national democratic revolution enables the Filipino male to reclaim the manhood which his centuries of oppression took away. This is what has gained for him the total respect of the Filipino woman, and a pride in him that is not founded on his proximity to excellence by Western standards, but a pride built on his rediscovered identity and dignity.

It may be noted that both the new femininity and the new masculinity are defined in terms of revolutionary militance. Those who like to say “Vive le difference!” may inquire: but where then is the difference? What distinguishes the new woman from the new man?

The answer is nothing.

In a future article, I hope to discuss how the differences between men and women have been overplayed in history for the purpose of exploiting both. For now, let me just say quite arbitrarily that there are very few differences between men and women which are not culturally or ideologically defined; that is, the biologically given differences are very few and cannot be the most important reasons for the marked social differences we find today between men and women. Especially in the face of the high level of technology available to contemporary generations, whatever biological inequalities there might be are easily rendered insignificant. All evidence points to the conclusion that men and women belong to a single species and cannot differ to the extend of requring for each of them a whole and separate set of cultural definitions.

May 27, 2011

OPERASYON BAHA


by Ma. Lorena Barros

Philippine Collegian
September 11, 1970


The response from the more affluent
was more spontaneous and more generous
the majority of them anonymous.
National disaster
brings out the best in us.
We still have good reason to be proud of ourselves.
         - Teodoro Valencia
           Over a Cup of Coffee 9/7/90

     “Ten mattressed beds in the refugee room (Marikina Youth Center and Welfare Building: unpainted wood wetly dark, new but one can feel the termites gnawing) beside the Metrocom Office.”

     Mga sampung pamilya ho kami rito. Hindi namin kasama ang mga iyan, nadatnan na namin sila rito.
     Mga Igorot.
     Tignan mo ‘yung isa, pati bisig may tattoo.

     “The millionaire’s accountant is better off than the millionaire’s driver. The millionaire’s driver is better off than the squatter in the slums across the street. The squatter has four flimsy walls and a patchwork rook; the cart dwelling scavenger has none. But he is better off than the Igorot, he is a Christian and civilized, a mirror in the mud reflecting skyscrapers. Even in the greatest adversity there are always those who are more miserable. Hail pollyanna.”

     Sa Melitona kami galing, sa tumana.
     Sa tumana, sa may tabing ilog. Doon kami nakatira.
     Hindi sa subdibisyon. Sa labas kami, ganito:

     “But she is young, the face smooth and brown, the curve of the belly vibrant with new life. So why are her hands an old crone’s hands, large and big-veined and the palms with skin like rubber? She is young...her old hands sketch upon the mattress the diagram of their old lives:”

     Nandito ang ilog, eto ang subdibisyon, dito kami sa gitna. May pader dito.
     Kaya kami binaha nang ganito, dahil diyan sa pader na iyan.
     Ang sabi ng mga datihan sa tumana, noon daw ay bumabaha rin pag apaw ng ilog ngunit ngayon lang tumaas nang ganoon ang tubig. Mangyari’y naglagay ng pader ang may-ari ng subdibisyon, napakataas at mahabang-mahaba. Kaya’t lugar na tuloy-tuloy ang daloy ng tubig papunta sa bukid, nahihinto ng pader at tumataas nang tumataas.

     Dati kasi’y bukirin lang ang lugar na iyon. Ngayon’y gagawin nang subdibisyon.
     Pinaalis nga kami ng may-ari sa dati naming lugar. Dati’y hindi naman kami ganito kalapit sa ilog nakatira. Medyo paloob. Ngunit pinaalis kami ng may-ari at sabi’y tatayuan daw ng mga bahay na magagara ang lupa.
     Inilipat namin ang aming bahay sa tabi ng ilog.
     Siguro nama’y walang may-ari ng pampang. At walang magkakagustong magtayo ng bahay doon. Kundi kami.
     Kahit kami’y ayaw doon, ngunit anong magagawa mo? Mabuti na kaysa wala.

     “She is old, a fine-lined face with incongrously flirtarious red-betel-stained lips. (Why aren’t you dead? I ask you-why aren’t you dead. How did you get that gray hair? How did you manage to survive?”)

     Alas dos ng umaga, ineng, nang kami’y lumikas. Napakadilim. Abot na sa baywang ang tubig sa loob ng bahay.
     Ang aking iniipong balutan ng Breeze, naiwanan. Inanod na siguro.
     Ang kuwintas kong bigay pa ni Inay.
     Ang mga bata na lang ang nailabas namin, bukod sa aming katawan.
Napakabilis ng pagtaas ng tubig. Wala kaming nadala ni anumang kasangkapan.
     Eto, may nadala akong ilang damit. Basa lahat.

     “Don’t breathe. The air is full of the odor of damp decay. Don’t inhale. Don’t decay.  Will the sun ever come out and dry these clothes, these muddy floors, these faces?”

     Ang sabi ko naman sa kanila’y hindi bale, basta buhay tayong lahat.
     Hu, buhay! Buhay nga, walang-wala naman.
     Nagsalita na naman ang asawa mo.

     Ang sabi nung gagong si Johnny sa radyo, siguro daw ito’y babala sa atin ng Diyos, pagka’t tayo’y makasalanan. Anong makasalanan? Bakit ang mahihirap lang ba ang makasalanan? E bakit kung sino pang may kakaunti lamang ay siya pang binabaha, inaanod ng dala-dalawang pinggan at iisang baso ang iisang banig, ang iilang damit? Yung mga mayayaman sa kanilang mga naglalakihang bahay na bato sa loob ng kanilang mga nagtataasang bakod naanod ba ang kanilang mga kagamitan. Sila ba’y walang kasalanan?
     Si Doming naman.
     Si Doming naman. Mabait naman sila a. Hindi ba’t pinapasok pa kami sa bakuran?

     Oo nga naman. Nang umalis kami sa amin, ineng humingi kami ng silong sa isang bahay ng mayaman doon sa may kalsada. Pinapasok ang mga babae at bata at pinainom pa kami ng kape. Para daw mainitan ang aming sikmura.
     Mabait naman sila.

     “The men stayed out in the raging rain; it was all right, as long as the women and children were dry. That big rich warm lighted house: they’re afraid we’ll loot it once we get in. (What are a few looted mansions compared with their looted lives?”)

     But here’s loot! Old clothes. You don’t have to loot them. Here. Old clothes they give you, rather than throw away.”

     Hoy, dalawa na iyang hawak mo, akin naman ito!
     Akin, akin-
     Akong nauna rito a.
     Bakit lalaki ka ba, ba’t hawak mo iyang pantalon.
     Mapupunit lang e, bitiwan mo!
     Walang-wala kasi kaming damit, ineng. Agawan tuloy.
     Para kayong ngayon lang nakakita ng lumang damit.
     Si Doming naman.

Ba’t ikaw, hindi ka magsusuot nito? Kay bilis pa naman niyang asawa mong mang-agaw.

     “And the children? Fair hopes of their fathers. This little girl’s arms and legs covered with sores (how will she grow up to be Miss International) that boy’s lips, ringed with ulcers: vitamin deficiency (how will he learn to smile) distended bellies. These worms, they can’t wait for death, they begin to feast on child flesh”.

     Suot na niya ang isa, o. ‘yung bata sa may pinto.
     Lalaki iyan.
     Bakit naman pambabae ang isinuot mo?
     Wala akong nakuhang panlalaki e.

Ang panganay ko’y bakla. Napakabait. Nagtitinda sa palengke. Kahit anong trabaho papasukan. Ano bang hiya-hiya.

     “Where do they come from, the patient people who fill the slums and the sidewalks at night the pickpockets the beggars the prostitutes these transplanted peasants whose wide earthspreading feet can’t fit into the rich man’s slender shoes?

     Taga-Leyte kaming lahat.
     Ang iba’y matagal na rito-mga anim na taon. Kami’y kaluluwas lamang.
     Nandito na ang aking mga anak, ineng. Sumunod na lang ako.
     Nagtatanim. Nagtatanim kami sa tumana.
     Mais. Mga gulay. Kangkong. Kamote. Petsay. Marami.
     May kangkungan ako. Sigruo’y wala na ngayon, naanod na. Paano kaya ngayon?
     May anak ka namang nagtratrabaho a.
     Kung sabagay. Peon.
     Peon, ‘yung nagsisimento ng pader.
     Sabihin mo kung aling pader.
     Pader ng subdibisyon!

     Kakatuwa, ano, ineng? Ang pader na siyang dahilan ng pagbaha sa amin ay tinutulungang itaas ng isa sa amin. Pero anong magagawa mo? Mabuti pa iyon kaysa walang trabaho.
     Walang maaring mamili ng trabaho. Kung ayaw magutom. Kaya na nga ba sinasabi ko dito sa asawa ko e tama na ‘yang hiya! Ano bang hiya-hiya, nagugutom na ang mga anak mo. Kung ako’y walang dinadala, kahit taga-linis ng tae’y tatanggapin ko.

     Mahirap ang buhay.

     “And you, women, when will you cease to be apologists for the status quo? When will you stop scolding and soothing away the anger, the rage, the maimed dignity of your men and instead stoke their fire to greater burning? When will you cease to be dead weights pulling them to the mire, and instead be the vision of a happier time?”

     Mahirap ang buhay.
     Mas mahirap ang buhay sa probinsiya.
     Oo nga.

     Bakit kamo, ineng? Oo nga’t kung magtatanim ka lang ay may makakain ka na. Ngunit pagkain lang ba ang kailangan ng tao?
     Walang pera. Walang pagawaan. Dito sa Maynila, huwag ka lang maghiya-hiya ay may pagkikitaan ka na.
     Tama! Dito’y kay daming nangangailangan ng yayang tagahimod ng puwit ng kanilang mga anak, o ng kanilang mga asawa. Ng mga taga-punas ng upuan para sa mga iksekyutib, taga-bukas ng pintuan, taga-sara ng pintuan, taga-bantay ng pintuan, taga-paypay o taga kumpuni ng air-conditioner. Ng mga tsuper, ng mga taga-linis ng kalye, taga-gawa ng kalye, taga-bakbak ng kalye, taga-pangalaga ng mga harding mas malawak kaysa bahay mo. Ng mga taga-kain ng dumi!
     Doming naman.

     Kasi’y wala kang pinag-aralan, Doming, kaya tagakain lang ng dumi ang maari mong maging trabaho. Kaya na nga ba kahit hirap na hirap ako’y pinipilit kong mapag-aral ang kahit isa lang sa aking mga anak. Pero paano kaya ngayon, wala na ang aking kangkungan?
     Hindi naman pumapasok ang anak mo a.
     Naku e hihinto daw muna siya. Wala kasing pera para sa kanyang mga damit. Ayaw pumasok nang hindi disente ang damit. Pagtatawanan lang daw siya ng kanyang mga kaklase. Kaya’t nag-iipon sana ako ngayon, para sa isang taon...

     Hu, pinag-aralan! Hindi nyo ba alam na ang mga bellboy sa Hilton ngayon, kailanga’y college student? Sige paghirapan n’yo ang pag-aaral ni Ernie, tignan natin kung anong lalabas. Pag may pinag-aralan ka, mas disente nga ang suweldo mo pero taga-kain ka pa rin ng tira. Taga-tago ng kayamanan ng iba akala mo kung sino nang mga bank teller na ‘yan, nakauniporme pa. Taga-pangasiwa lang ng yaman ng iba, ng kung sinong hindot, kailangan commerce graduate. Iksekyutib, puta!
     Ke may pinag-aralan.
     ke wala
     puta, puta puta puta
     taga-kain ng tira
     Ako, isang lalaking tinatawag: nasaan ang aking kalalakihan? Ang alipin ba’y may bayag? Araw-araw ay nilululon ko ang aking hiya, humahalik sa lupa pagkat may asawa’t anak na nagugutom. Bakit kailangang mamili sa hiya at pagkain? Bakit kailangang mamili sa pagiging tao at pagiging patay-gutom? Ako ba’y isinilang upang maging busabos?

     Putaputaputaputa
     mabuti pang mamundok
     mamatay ka ma’y lumalaban
     at makapatay rin
     at malay mo
     Marami tayong api
     napakarami
     mas marami sa nang-aapi.

May 6, 2011

PRISON VISIT


The prisoners in MPD Precinct 5 are temporarily detained in a two-storey wooden house beside the unfinished concrete building which will later accommodate them.   The house is dingy and its faded green paint is peeling off in ugly spots; it looks like a dirty PC uniform thrust into a corner of the precinct compound.

‘Yun hong nakatingin dito at nakangiti, an old woman in widow’s  weeds points to someone behind the chicken wire screen which separates the detention cell  from the tiny waiting room.  Yun hong aking anak.
The prisoners move about the detention cell, stirring the grass straw on the floor.  the old woman’s son presses close to the screen,  his fingers hooked about the wire.
O, kayo naman, ano ‘yon?
W e would like to see Mr. Alfonso Sabelano.
The clerk sits up a bit straighter.  Clearing his throat, he shuffles the papers in front of him and finally answers.  You better ask the sergeant over there.  Sarge!
We would like to see Mr. Alfonso Sabelano, Sergeant.
The Sergeant clears his throat.  Ahem, are you relatives?
No, we are friends of his.
Well, ahem, he was taken out.
Where?
Uh, ahem,  I don’t know.  Ah, I know!  He went to point out Ruben, the actual gunman.
There is a note of triumph and a sneer in his last words.  We keep silent, not knowing what to make of the information.
Ahem, you know, Rubben, that USTC rat!  He was the guy who pulled the trigger.  Ahem, a double murderer.  He  killed Dasmarinas and Macalde.
Oh.
Ano ba kayo, KM right?
No, but we would not mind being KM.
Uh, ahem, so!
That’s all right, another man cuts in.  He does not have the bleary blood-shot eyes of the sergeant but has a similar paunch.  (Why do all officers of the law have big stomachs?)
That’s all right, he says again.  The KM is a legal organization.

Exactly.  That’s why we can’t understand why the Monkees killed Dasmarinas-unless being legal is no longer sufficient protection from official murder.
The Monkees! says the Sarge.  The President says there are no Monkees.
But Senator Aquino says there are, right here in the city.
Between Aguino and the President I would rather believe the President says the other officer.
But the Senator has evidence.
But the Senator is not the President.
Anyway, cuts in the Sarge.  Hindi Monkees ang pumatay kay Dasmarinas at Macalde.  Mga KM ang pumatay sa kanila.
But Dasmarinas was one of the most effective KM  speakers! Why would other KM members kill him?
He was accused of being a CIA agent.
We look at each other and burst out laughing.
Double murder is not a funny thing, you know,   the other officer says.
Exactly, sir.  And these actions of the State against militant youth nationalists have cast serious doubts on the existence of democracy in our country.
KM ang pumatay sa kanila!  The Sarge is losing his temper.
Granted, the other officer says, granted that it was not one of you who killed them, why would the government want to kill them?  Dasmarinas was no big leader of the  KM.  Sure, he was an effective speaker, but he was a small guy in the organization.  If the government were really after the KM we would go after the bigwigs!
But sir, you already have no less than the national chairman of the KM, Nilo Tayag.
Aba, ahem, that’s a different matter.
In what way different, sir?
‘Yang si Nilo Tayag ay subversive.  He wants  to overthrow the government.
What makes you say that, sir?
Aba, ahem, he goes around the country agitating the people at rallies and teach-ins.
Agitating for what?
Revolution!
Why?
Such people have lost faith in peaceful reform.  They want a bloody war to change the system.

Sir, what will happen to Alfonso?
The maximum penalty for murder is death.  At best he will get a life sentence.
Why death or life imprisonment?  Does the State not believe that murderers can be gradually and peacefully reformed, so that they can once more be of service to society?
Ahem, aba, malalim na pilosopiya na ‘ata iyan.  Pilosopo ka ba?
The other officer shakes his head sadly.  Murder stains the soul irrevocably.  A man who has once killed will kill again.  Such a man will always be a danger to society.
But Sir, the State has so many murders in its hands already.  The Lapiang Malaya massacre, the Jabidah Massacre, the massacre of students on January 30, the murder of Sta. Brigiga, the daily killing of peasants in Central Luzon.  Murder, to borrow your words has stained its soul irrevocably.  It will always be a danger to society.  It  is beyond gradual and peaceful reform, to borrow your logic, and must therefore be either done away with - the maximum penalty - or otherwise incapacitated for life.
Ahem, aba!
Therefore to want to do away with this murderous State is only just and right, and not at all subversive.  Isn’t that so, sir?
Sabi na sa iyong pilosopo iyan, e.  Basta hindi niyo maaaring makita si Sabelano.  Kahit naman nandiyan siya’y incomunicado, walang maaaring kausapin kundi mga malapit na kamag-anak.
We turn away to go.
Just a minute.  What have girls like you got to do with criminals like Sabelano?
Alfonso is not a criminal unless proven guilty, sir.
You are students?  Where do you study?
U.P.
St. Theresa’s.
Ano?  Sa mga eskwelang Katoliko ba’y may mga aktibista rin?
There is nothing, or there should be nothing, in a Catholic school which prevents its students from being concerned about country and fellow men.
Hindi kayo KM?
We are members of MAKIBAKA.
`           Ahem?
Malayang Kilusan ng Bagong Kababaihan, sir.  We just wanted to see Alfonso.
Well, you have to see the CO here to get a permit to see him

Who is the CO?
Major Lazaro!  the sergeant says with that familiar note of triumph.
Where is Major Lazaro?
He is not here.
Where is he?
On Mondays he acts as the personal security officer of the Mayor.  You may see him here any day except Monday.
Mayor Villegas, sir?
Yes.
Where is Alfonso now?
I told you.  He has gone to point out where Ruben is hiding.  It takes a rat, ha ha, to catch another rat.  Ha ha.
Will he testify against Ruben?
If the court accepts him as state witness, he will testify against Ruben.
But he will also be punished, if he testifies against Ruben?
No, he will go free.
What?           
Because he would be on the side of  the government.  That would wipe out his guilt.
But he would still be a rat in your eyes, sir?
Pilosopo kang talaga ano?
You would  have turned him into a more acceptable rat, sir, a government rat?
Ahem!
Come on, let’s go, I’m hungry.  Let’s go.
Outside the precinct a light rain is falling.  We pass a small group of workers at the new precinct building, squatting around their lunch of rice and dried fish.
Akin kayo, mga miss.
Salamat ho.  Nakikita niyo ba si Boy diyan?
‘Yung KM?  Oo, ngunit paminsan-minsan lamang.  Sa itaas siya itinatago.
Kumusta ho siya?
Dati  mataba, pero ngayo’y payat na.  Mahigpit ang gwardya sa kanya.
Maari ho niyo kayang ibigay itong magasing Pilipino sa kanya?  Basahin na rin ninyo.
Sige. Pag natiyempuhan namin.
Salamat ho.
Walang anuman.  Naawa na rin kami sa kanya.  Parating nakayuko tuwing dadaan.

I was so afraid they’d arrest us, you know, the way you spoke.
Wasn’t I pompous?
We all laugh.
Yeah, I felt like giggling at your big words.
That Sarge reminds me of the police officer at the PCC raid.  You know the story?
Go ahead.
Well, during the PCC raid, the students whom the police found inside the building were all lined up against the wall and questioned.   One student, scared to death, said, hindi po ako komunista!  Anti-communit pa nga ako sir e.  The sergeant slapped him and said, Ah, kahit na anong klaseng komunista ka pa, lahat ng mga iyan ay pare-parehong masama!
Laugher again.
Stupid ass!
Fascist pig!
More laughter.
Big words.  Democracy.  Freedom.  Commitment, Society.  But behind them only these little things: that day by day institutionalized violence robs a man of his dignity, turns him into another instrument of violence against yet other victims; that day by day men are taught or forced to survive by doing violence to other men; that day by day men manage to live in spurious peace by constantly denying that they are not free, that no man can be free unless all other men are free.

-  Aug. 27, l970
   Philippine Collegian