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

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 

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.

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.

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

EGO DE MONA KA TEUDO


The moon  is gone
I am wakeful, thinking
of the dried grass
in my brush.
The grass was black
in the moon's light
the moon was palest green
and somewhere in the tall cogon
a birdling sang uncertainly
the moon is gone.  I've
always lain alone
Why does it pain me now?


                                           - Ma. Lorena Barros
                                              Philippine Collegian
                                              July 3, 1969

MAKIBAKA REVISITED:  TWO ESSAYS ON MAKIBAKA (by two former members)

ANOTHER LOOK AT THE MAKIBAKA EXPERIENCE

By Rosa C. Mercado; Diliman Review; l986; p. 60-62

Over the past three years or so, feminists of various persuasions have expressed a high degree of interest over MAKIBAKA (Malayang Kilusan ng Bagong Kababaihan).  It seemed from their various writings that Makibaka has become a springboard to drive home their ideological and political ideas on the women question.  Perhaps it fires their imagination to think that Makibaka has  taken the cudgels in this attempt to draw a feminist line despite the odds it encountered.  Makibaka has become more of a symbol, so to speak, for women activists to crystallize their crying need for acceptance and recognition.

Whoever coined the word Makibaka would never have known that such an audacious name would go down in history as the forerunner of the women’s liberation movement in the Philippines.  It shudders me now to think that such a relatively small band of women could represent an idea far larger than itself, could become more than what it really was, although we did try in our own way to live up to the image of the name.

Credit  perhaps should go to the dramatic flair that marked its entry into the national scene.  Makibaka was launched during the Bb. Pilipinas Beauty Contest in l970.  At that time, beauty contests were enjoying a high degree of popularity and even prestige because Gloria Diaz had just romped off with the Miss Universe crown a year before.  From the ideal Maria Clara image of demure beauty and quiet submission, our Filipino women  traded off their kimono and saya for the flimsy bathing suit and competed with their legs and faces in a bid to carve a name in a male dominated world.  Beauty contests were supposed to be the ideal venue to affirm their womanhood and to rise to national glory and prominence.

Taking cue from the stormy women’s lib in the United States, we picketed the beauty contest and for that novel act, we landed in the front pages of the national dailies not because the press realized the seriousness of our purpose but because we were another form of amusement itself.  Here were a bunch of girls taking a potshot at a national pastime, trying to rub the amused crowd the other way.  Some members of the press even chafed us saying we were sour graping because we didn’t have the three m’s (maganda, matangkad, mayaman) like the beauty contestants.  Nevertheless, we outshouted them with “Down with the commercialization of sex,” “Stop treating women as sex objects.”  “Away with the degradation of women” and other jolting slogans.

Joining the picket was for some of us  a “thrilling” experience, a kind of “explosion” where all hell broke loose and we  felt suddenly transformed.  Here we all were, weighed down by years and years of constant drilling from all sources of authority that distorted our perceptions of our real selves.  Makibaka unleashed the pent-up energies that were bottled up inside us.  It became a rallying point to break away from the traditional cultural mold of a cloying, passive, suffering Filipina and from society-induced crutches like the need to look up to a man or to prepare one’s self mainly in the art of raising a home and family.

After the initial euphoria of self-revelation, we braced ourselves for the enormous tasks ahead.  The explosive issues of those times pushed us into frenetic activism that called for solid and real organizing and propaganda work.  In a way, we were laboring under the presumptions of too militant a name, MAKIBAKA, an acronym that is synonymous with struggle.  Most of us were hardly prepared for the job.  We were all so young and somewhat foolish, some were freshly plucked from high school and many were middle-class and convent-bred who didn’t even know how to wash dishes.  While it was a greatly accelerated period for learning, knowing, feeling and reading, it was also a stressful time for resolving inner conflicts that squared with our quest for the answers to our growing feminism.

One of the by-products of the political activism in the 70's was  that you practically lived and grew together in the headquarters.  Living and growing together  said more for us and about us than all our theories on the women question put together.  By leading a collective life to pursue political work, we discovered in ourselves those parts which we used to deny or didn’t even know existed because they didn’t fit into the usual stereo-typed image of women.  We slept on the pavement of strike areas, went to unheard of places to integrate with people, braved gun-wielding policemen in scab-infested factories, dodged pill boxes at violence marred rallies and were hauled off to police stations in the middle of the night while painting slogans on the street walls.  The more we exerted ourselves in the struggle, the more we realized how narrowly circumscribed our lives had been.  And to think that we were forbidden before to come home at unholy hours!  A lot of the girls had to engage in minor skirmishes  and crying sessions with distressed mothers who were always close at heels trying to reclaim their stowaway daughters.  Stowing away may appear insignificant, but for some of us, it was a breakthrough in declaring self-independence.

Living together 24 hours under one roof also meant that we had to divide house and office chores equally among ourselves.  Fine, but it also meant getting into each other’s nerves because the lazy bones in us were hungry for food but nobody wanted to cook.  Or who was going to throw the garbage or tidy up the bathroom?  The haggling brought us at the brink of quarrels but also made us aware that nobody could be relegated to kitchen work all the time or no job could be so menial as to be perennially assigned to one.  It taught us that we were co-equal in everything, from the “drudgery” of dish washing to the “importance” of mimeographing. 

Makibaka rode on the crest of student activism where mainstream politics meant exposing the three evils of imperialism, feudalism and bureaucrat capitalism that plague the country.  Like other activist groups, we were heatedly engaged in exposing the bases of our national oppression and exploitation.  No marches and rallies on big issues spared us, and our organizing work among women in various schools were annexed to building a strong base of women who toed the national democratic line. 

However, controversy hounded Makibaka from the day it was born.  Women’s liberation was thought of as a western conception that drove a divisive wedge among the activist ranks.  Makibaka was besieged by many self-appointed ideologues who outrightly questioned the basis of its existence.  They pointed out that women’s issues were not “priorities,” that these were “deflective” and “distractive” and had to be “subsumed,” “sublimated” or made “secondary” to the “official line.”  These words were bandied around and were dropped glumly mostly by leading male comrades who were seriously toying with the idea of abolishing Makibaka without even consulting its members.

In a way, all the talk pushed us in the defensive and drove us at our wit’s end. We were definitely not going to hand it to them even if we were groping for our rebuttal statements.  The neophytes in us grappled for ready-made answers.  We tried to learn fast by wading through a wide array of reading materials that came from foreign sources.  Our knowledge of the women question was initially something we had to articulate straight from the books but which we could not as yet connect with our lives and experiences.

The mimeographed materials that circulated around were mostly of two divergent kind.  On the one end were the thick maze of feminist literature from the United States.  On the other end were the revolutionary Chinese and Vietnamese models.  We straddled between a too feminist or a too revolutionary orientation.  The feminist excesses of our western counterparts even made its way through our language.  We would accuse our male comrades of “male chauvinism” at the slightest provocation while they would bounce back by chiding us of being “anti-male.”  We floated automatic slogans for the voice that should have come from the depths of our authentic experience.  Also, there was a definite juvenile exuberance in the way we dropped jargons that were the “in” thing as in the way we would hang around sporting the masa look.  The masa look  is  where you tried to appear unkempt and disheveled, wore oversized polo shirts or ran holes in your maong pants or rubber shoes.

There were, of course, Engel’s Origin of the Family and Lenin’s Women Question

which were standard discussion fare.  Much as these two interesting pieces of writings gave us a lot of strength and solid theoretical base for formulating our own ideas, they were too far removed from the present context to really make a dent.  As for the Chinese and Vietnamese women fighters, their heroism were the stuff our dreams were hitched on but not everyone had the fibers to push their feminism to such extremes.  Our most beloved and highly esteemed Lorena Barros (and the likes of her) still remains a shining example of an ideal woman who continues to haunt us and rock the ground from under our feet.

Looking at it another way, our early brand of feminism had banked too much on the premise that there is something wrong when one tries to dichotomize between women’s issues and national issues as if this is the way one must proceed, if at all.  As if it were a choice between two extremes of thought and one ought to lay down the line as to which should take precedence over what.  People often speak of “issues” when they talk of feminism like prostitution, abortion, the right to vote and the like.  No wonder discussions often bogged down or stood still because the distinction should not be posited at all.

Being an all-women’s group was undoubtedly a unique experience that made more dent in our consciousness than everything that were said.  The fact that women could make decisions by themselves, could decide on courses of action without male intervention were never driven home to us till then.  Here we all were, in the middle of the great issues and we had to sharpen our tools in political analysis if we were to be effective.   There was no room for trivial, small talk nor for skirting the issues with petty discussions on peripheral issues because the situation would not warrant such.  It was often said that women are too embroiled in their emotions and they lack the faculty for relentless, objective and rigorous analyzing that men possess by virtue of the unbridled freedom that early training and upbringing had instilled in them.

Now you may not agree with that but joining Makibaka had tapped the dormant powers in us.  We were reconciled to the analytical, intellectual, and active side of us which would not have surfaced as starkly had there been males to do the thinking and deciding for us.  It was indeed the politics of the times that pulled us out of our shells but it was our unique position of being an all-women group that made us profoundly aware of the need to transcend our weaknesses and limitations if we were to apply ourselves to the demands of the struggle.

Being together had bound us in ways that went beyond politicking.  We had always felt this visceral unity where you share the same resentments against the impositions on the use of your body and brain, you felt the same growing up pain from awkward adolescence to the verge of womanhood, the same ambivalence towards “emotions” and “needs” and “relationships.”  Women’s sensibilities and range of experiences are quite different from men and one could never do away with them under the cloak of political expediency.  They are there, imbedded in us, whether we wish to speak about them or not.  The layers of cultural subjugation, are a difficult thing to erase, one that needed a constancy of effort, a sustained, consistent everyday self-searching and renewal until you could chip away inch by inch, block by block the feelings of inferiorities and insufficiencies drilled through a lifetime.

Actually, the realization that we were already engaged in a living application of the women question only occurred to us many years later after we had left Makibaka.  At that time, because of the many national issues that assailed us and kept us on our toes every minute of the day we were sort of prevented from really confronting our problems as women. Or perhaps we deliberately kept them under wraps, tucked under our HQ beds because we were not supposed to be bothered by them.

Blame it perhaps on our youth and inexperience, but always and always, relationships or to put it bluntly, heart affairs assaulted us and rocked the political equilibrium that we tried so hard to maintain.  It gripped the very center of our being and diffused the abundant energy which we tried so hard to harness for others.  We were saddled by them because we were always trying  to balance relationships, trying to put them in the proper perspective.  Emotions, however, had no place in the political scheme of things and one was always reminded that too many people in Tondo or Sapang Palay were dying of hunger so how dare were we to become so narrowly focused in our personal problems.

One leading feminist once said that if emotional lives are shared collectively then they become a cultural experience.  If this is true, then perhaps women should not find excuses for their feelings but work at them towards mastery.  They are barriers to our liberation and one must confront rather than evade them.  To strike hard at them would be to increase the weapons of self-discovery and self-understanding that we need for tackling the larger political issues that should be our foremost concern.

With this note, the Makibaka experience could be vindicated after all.

MAKIBAKA REMEMBERED

by Salome Ronquillo

May-August l984, Diliman Review, pp. 51-53

The emergence of several women’s organizations after the Aquino assassination makes me reminisce proudly, yet sadly, over MAKIBAKA (Malayang Kilusan Ng Bagong Kababaihan).  The new organizations of women can learn a few lessons from the experiences of Makibaka, said to be the pioneer in the women’s liberation movement or feminist movement in the Philippines.  Makibaka was, indeed, the first Philippine organization to raise the issue of women’s liberation, creating a stir in the media and among the male population of the country.  The organization earned a good mileage of publicity because of its novelty, though not all of it was good.  Sometimes the organization was derided and chided not only by the Establishment but also by so-called comrades in the national democratic movement where it chose to belong.

Singular honor, however, goes to Makibaka for putting the issue of women’s liberation in the “proper context” - that is, by linking the issue to the people’s struggle against the three “isms.”  Makibaka  proclaimed that the semi-feudal character of Philippine society subjugated the women to the men, moulded the women into the shy and conservative Maria Clara, and defined her function primarily as child-bearers and housekeepers; while the semi-colonial nature of the society gave rise to the commercialization of sex and made women the playthings of men.  Ergo, women can only liberate themselves by joining the struggle for nationalism and democracy.  It was a credible though much simple theory which basically answered the question of how to involve women in the people’s struggle and the proper place of a women’s movement in the history that is being made.  Further tinkering on the theory led to assertions by ideologues that women are neither a class like the workers, peasants, etc., not a sector like the students or be referred to as a special group like the cultural minorities.   With this we did not argue, as long as women oppression  and exploitation are recognized as existing .  Women cut through classes and sectors so there are women landlords as there are women peasants, women capitalists as there are women workers (note:  care should be taken not to base a woman’s class status on the class membership of the husband alone.)  But as members of the female sex they have special problems and those belonging to the exploited class suffer double exploitation as members of their  class and of their sex.

As the women’s movement became accepted, more studies and discussions were conducted on the Woman Question.   Research, mostly informal and undertaken by concerned individuals and not by groups and institutions, tried to dig deeper into the problem.  Engels’ works particularly on the origin of the family and state began to be cited as this brought the roots of women exploitation and oppression farther into history, tracing it to the period when private property evolved.  One writer-researcher even went farther, tracing the problem to the difference between the male and the female.  This thinking was obviously influenced by the western press which propagated the wrong notion that women working for their liberation want to be superior to or be the clones of the male specie.  (Albeit there is a small, radical group in the West which rejects all female roles including childbearing.)

These attempts to clarify the women question led to a more beclouded understanding of the issue, although discussions which they triggered were invigorating.   For one, they forced the Makibaka  members to fortify their stand with concrete examples drawn from their experiences in working with women in different classes.  Articles by Makibaka  members including those in the magazine the organization published contained these summing up.

Since the women’s movement in the Philippines was still very young and data on earlier women’s groups were wanting in the kind of information needed, attention was turned to the experience of women in the revolutionary struggle in China and Vietnam.  But Makibaka  did not undertake an organized research on the women’s movement in the two countries, preferring instead to draw inspiration from the bravery of women in those struggles.  (This was also good since the Makibaka  members developed the attitude that if those women could do it, they also could).  Perhaps, after all Makibaka was not the proper organization to conduct such a study since it was deep into organizational and political work.

Makibaka  involved its members in militant mass actions and mobilized politicized women students, workers and professionals.  Its members were at the forefront of all MDP (Movement for a Democratic Philippines) sponsored activities - rallies everywhere, strikes at every corner, community work, etc.  There activities tempered the Makibaka  activists and created “models” for Filipino women in the struggle. Makibaka  contributed the likes of Maria Lorena Barros who fought for and gave her life to the cause she believed in.

Members of Makibaka  believed that they realized their full potential in a purely women organization.  They learned to handle jobs traditionally reserved for men like marshaling  during demonstrations, nailing placards, painting streamers, operating the mimeograph machine, operation dikit, and many more.  They also experienced one time or another, speaking before a rally or symposium, writing a manifesto or managing a chapter.  They felt their contribution to the organization  and were proud of it. 

It was not therefore unexpected that Makibaka  members would come to the rescue of their organization whenever it was threatened by not-so-serious male chauvinists who simply loved to taunt them and the more serious chauvinists who wanted to dissolve the organization (their slogan was “there is no need for a separate women’s organization, much more, movement”).  The charge of “feminism” (for wanting to have a women’s movement and for raising women issues) was a plague which the members feared.  Their leaders walked on a tightrope, forever balancing women issues and national issues, fearful of falling  to the ground.

The plague made Makibaka  neglect important issues and organizational work.  There was not much to differentiate the work of Makibaka  from the work of student/youth organizations, causing some observers to think that Makibaka  was the women’s arm of a youth organization.  For one thing, Makibaka  concentrated  its mobilization and organizational efforts in schools and communities where the youth organizations moved and as a result drew only young women into the organization.  Housewives and mothers,  particularly the wives of workers and the women in urban poor communities who comprise the majority of women population in the cities, should have been the targets of Makibaka.  They were not attracted to the organization either because they felt that it did not meet their needs or they did not fit it.  A Mothers Corps, composed of mothers of Makibaka members and mothers of other activists, was organized within Makibaka but they were not fully integrated into the organization and the corps became mere support group.  The value of the help extended by the Mother’s Corps only shows the untapped potential of housewives and mothers.

Makibaka was aware of the obstacles (housework and male authority) preventing housewives and mothers from joining or getting involved in community and national affairs.  It attempted to set up day care centers in urban poor communities to ease the constraints and managed to actually set up two.  The first one, in Leveriza, was opened in l971 and Makibaka was not prepared for it.  (It was sponsored by a Concon candidate whose wife became an honorary member.  The opportunity was there so Makibaka grabbed it.)  The experience, however, provided many lessons and gave Makibaka the correct orientation for such projects, so that when it opened the second one in Tondo, Makibaka already knew that the community should be involved in the project and in the responsibility of taking care of the children.  In Tondo, the parents helped in the construction of the classroom and the maintenance and operation of the center. 

Another activity which benefitted mothers in urban poor communities was the mother’s class conducted together with a nurses’ group, the MASANA (Makabayang Samahan ng mga Narses).  The mothers’ class taught the mothers modern and scientific child care practices.  The class could also have been effective in promoting breast-feeding and the use of acupuncture and herbal medicines.

Among the issues Makibaka raised as a women’s organization were the irrelevance of beauty contests, the commercialization of sex, and the irrelevance of the ten best dressed women’s list.  It issued statements on the pill and family planning, prostitution and high prices.  But the activity  which landed Makibaka in the newspapers’ front page was the picket against the Binibining Pilipinas coronation night at the Araneta Coliseum.  It was the first time that event was picketed.  The event was again picketed in l972 with formes Miss International Gemma Cruz Araneta leading the picketers.  This time, three international beauty queens had joined the activist movement turning their backs on the world of glamor.  On the other hand, a photo taken at the picket of the ten best-dressed women proclamation night won the Panorama photographer the photojounalism award for that year.

These were just some of the possible activities that could be undertaken and some of the issues that could be raised by a women’s organizations.  Makibaka initiated the moves towards this direction but because of the fear of being criticized as a feminist, the organization relegated such to “more pressing” and broader issues and activities.

The pronouncement that women issues should only be secondary to national issues weakened and eventually killed the growing women’s movement in the Philippines.  Makibaka could have expanded the movement through alliance work with other women’s organizations and sectoral groups.  It could have propagated women issues more widely.  It could have catered to the immediate needs of women to enable them to participate in affairs outside the confines of the home.

In the early ‘70s, Makibaka was the women’s movement and the women’s movement was Makibaka.  So that when martial law was declared and Makibaka was disbanded, a vacuum was created.  There was no organization that was left to speak for women’s liberation.   And although there were women groups created, there was no movement which worked for the liberation of women.  Those were critical years and women issues were very low in priorities.

Fortunately, individual women who were personally committed to the cause began to fill in the vacuum Makibaka left.  The church workers carried the crusade.  After many years of working with women, they have realized the need for a genuine women’s movement that will encompass all progressive classes and sectors.

The task now is to unite existing women’s organizations behind certain principles and on women issues and to rally as many women as possible behind the alliance. 

The Makibaka experience can serve as the starting point of the revitalized women’s movement.  Let us turn nostalgia into an intelligent assessment of the experience and deepen Makibaka’s contribution to the women’s movement in the Philippines.