Where Were You?
20 years ago, when we were still law students, we felt a breath of fresh air stirring in our midst when Cardinal Sin called out the people to protect the soldiers.
To us, we wondered what all that meant. At that time, we just finished studying the 1973 Constitution or the Marcos Constitution and I recall that not even the commentaries of Fr. Bernas spoke negatively of that charter, al least not as openly as he does now in his Inquirer columns.
But while the atmosphere of martial law prevailed in those days, pre-EDSA circa 1985-86 was a joy in law school. While our classes were held in the evenings, we full time law students would join the rallies in Makati in the afternoon and stormed Security Bank which when they saw the rallyists would immediately roll down their steel doors.
We would walk the length and breadth of Ayala Avenue to the cheering Makati office personnel who would open their windows from buildings high up and rain down their yellow confetti, presumably shredded from the PLDT yellow pages, cheering us on. We would sing Bayan Ko, listen to speeches, both fiery and hilarious, interspersed with chanting and sloganeering but all the same, critical of Marcos and his cronies.
In law school, there were a handful of Marcos loyalists holdouts and among them were the daughter of then Defense Secretary Juan Ponce Enrile, the youngest son of a former Minister of Justice and whose other famous brother is a lawyer turned news personality and a wine connoisseur, the son of a former PBA commissioner, the brother of a TV female news personality, and the sister of a famous fashion designer. And to their credit, they did not shirk from their belief that Marcos was their man. Before the snap elections, they would wear Marcos red t-shirts while most of us would wear Ninoy or Cory yellow. While the battle for the hearts and minds was fought in the streets, the law school was not immune from occasional outbursts of “Cory”"Cory" "Cory" and “Marcos pa rin”. It was simply unacceptable to fence sit during those heady days.
When the snap election was held, we were taking up Election Law and our professor, Atty. Rogelio Nicandro, suggested to us that those who volunteered in any form or manner during the snap elections would get credit. Immediately, droves applied as NAMFREL volunteers and I was assigned to Xavier school to monitor the elections in San Juan. Even FPJ’s daughter was a NAMFREL volunteer in San Juan.
In one instance, there were Marcos volunteers who entered the Xavier precinct wearing Marcos red and they were told it was prohibited by law and was asked to leave. Of course, being Marcos country, they haughtily refused and even shouted “Marcos pa rin”. We retorted and chanted back “Cory” “Cory” drowning their arrogance till they decided to leave the election premises. And naturally, all those who volunteered got a grade of 90 in Election Law.
When Cardinal Sin called out the people to support the RAM boys, some of us were set to attend the ordination rites of Fr. Louie David in Ateneo Loyola. Some of us never made it to the ordination because we got detoured at EDSA and just about decided to stay on not knowing where this would lead to.
I remember at one point standing at the foot of the stage at Camp Crame where Fidel Ramos, Juan Ponce Enrile, Mel Lopez and some other political personalities were giving out their pep talk. This was the time when Ramos was jumping and telling us that it will be over soon. We were cheering them on and so hopeful that the dictator would be gone. It turned out that he was giving us a pep talk because they heard rumors that Marcos was going to send out his troops and tanks for the last time to quell the revolt.
My memory may not be so clear at this point but that scene where Ramos was jumping on the stage and my face was clearly evident among the throng was immortalized in Mr. Arillo’s book. Unfortunately, having no sense of history and no regard for posterity at that time, I failed to get hold of his book and have not seen a copy since.
We stayed and slept in EDSA. We faced the tanks and soldiers. We befriended nameless people. We shared food and drinks as though we were long lost confreres. More than a rally, all of us came to EDSA to break bread and fellowship with all who were willing to stand in the line of fire and take the bullet, as it were, for freedom and change of government. Like the namesake of the street, it was truly an epiphany of saints, men and women of goodwill who believed that corruption and bad government should not last a day longer.
It was 20 years ago. Many of us have become disillusioned and some like Ignacio Bunye have the temerity to say EDSA is no longer relevant. 20 years ago, I was willing to die for my country. I have no reason to depart from that belief 20 years hence, present leadership notwithstanding and apathy being the new social cancer.
Like Leah Navarro when interviewed by Newsbreak Magazine, I want my country back too.
To us, we wondered what all that meant. At that time, we just finished studying the 1973 Constitution or the Marcos Constitution and I recall that not even the commentaries of Fr. Bernas spoke negatively of that charter, al least not as openly as he does now in his Inquirer columns.
But while the atmosphere of martial law prevailed in those days, pre-EDSA circa 1985-86 was a joy in law school. While our classes were held in the evenings, we full time law students would join the rallies in Makati in the afternoon and stormed Security Bank which when they saw the rallyists would immediately roll down their steel doors.
We would walk the length and breadth of Ayala Avenue to the cheering Makati office personnel who would open their windows from buildings high up and rain down their yellow confetti, presumably shredded from the PLDT yellow pages, cheering us on. We would sing Bayan Ko, listen to speeches, both fiery and hilarious, interspersed with chanting and sloganeering but all the same, critical of Marcos and his cronies.
In law school, there were a handful of Marcos loyalists holdouts and among them were the daughter of then Defense Secretary Juan Ponce Enrile, the youngest son of a former Minister of Justice and whose other famous brother is a lawyer turned news personality and a wine connoisseur, the son of a former PBA commissioner, the brother of a TV female news personality, and the sister of a famous fashion designer. And to their credit, they did not shirk from their belief that Marcos was their man. Before the snap elections, they would wear Marcos red t-shirts while most of us would wear Ninoy or Cory yellow. While the battle for the hearts and minds was fought in the streets, the law school was not immune from occasional outbursts of “Cory”"Cory" "Cory" and “Marcos pa rin”. It was simply unacceptable to fence sit during those heady days.
When the snap election was held, we were taking up Election Law and our professor, Atty. Rogelio Nicandro, suggested to us that those who volunteered in any form or manner during the snap elections would get credit. Immediately, droves applied as NAMFREL volunteers and I was assigned to Xavier school to monitor the elections in San Juan. Even FPJ’s daughter was a NAMFREL volunteer in San Juan.
In one instance, there were Marcos volunteers who entered the Xavier precinct wearing Marcos red and they were told it was prohibited by law and was asked to leave. Of course, being Marcos country, they haughtily refused and even shouted “Marcos pa rin”. We retorted and chanted back “Cory” “Cory” drowning their arrogance till they decided to leave the election premises. And naturally, all those who volunteered got a grade of 90 in Election Law.
When Cardinal Sin called out the people to support the RAM boys, some of us were set to attend the ordination rites of Fr. Louie David in Ateneo Loyola. Some of us never made it to the ordination because we got detoured at EDSA and just about decided to stay on not knowing where this would lead to.
I remember at one point standing at the foot of the stage at Camp Crame where Fidel Ramos, Juan Ponce Enrile, Mel Lopez and some other political personalities were giving out their pep talk. This was the time when Ramos was jumping and telling us that it will be over soon. We were cheering them on and so hopeful that the dictator would be gone. It turned out that he was giving us a pep talk because they heard rumors that Marcos was going to send out his troops and tanks for the last time to quell the revolt.
My memory may not be so clear at this point but that scene where Ramos was jumping on the stage and my face was clearly evident among the throng was immortalized in Mr. Arillo’s book. Unfortunately, having no sense of history and no regard for posterity at that time, I failed to get hold of his book and have not seen a copy since.
We stayed and slept in EDSA. We faced the tanks and soldiers. We befriended nameless people. We shared food and drinks as though we were long lost confreres. More than a rally, all of us came to EDSA to break bread and fellowship with all who were willing to stand in the line of fire and take the bullet, as it were, for freedom and change of government. Like the namesake of the street, it was truly an epiphany of saints, men and women of goodwill who believed that corruption and bad government should not last a day longer.
It was 20 years ago. Many of us have become disillusioned and some like Ignacio Bunye have the temerity to say EDSA is no longer relevant. 20 years ago, I was willing to die for my country. I have no reason to depart from that belief 20 years hence, present leadership notwithstanding and apathy being the new social cancer.
Like Leah Navarro when interviewed by Newsbreak Magazine, I want my country back too.
posted by Edwin Lacierda | 3:10 AM
8 Comments:
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MY BALLS ARE MAJORITY STOCKHOLDERS.
MY PENIS IS A CAPTAIN OF INDUSTRY.
Hi there Ed,
Nice recollection of those vanished days...What that generation must ask of itself, in my opinion, is whether it can do Edsa 1 again. I know we thought we did in 2001. But we didn't, it turns out. Davide cheated for GMA and only let us think we won fair and square again. Edsa 2 was TOO EASY to be the confirmation of Edsa 1 as baptism. There was no slap, no danger, really, for the Armed Forces even mutinied.
The real test of Edsa 1 is "Edsa 1 Again"
The disdain of someone like El Capitan probably comes from not having participated in something that the heroes praise as heroic. It's a natural reaction, though I guess he was being a "dick" about it.
You are so right, Dean. EDSA2 can't hold a candle to EDSA1. In hindsight, it was a pretty weak facsimile, a veritable walk in the park. Did that lack of danger contribute to it's dilution?
Like Edwin, I remember those four days in February very well. A strong memory was the fear we all felt, especially at night. Remember Joey Rufino in tears in front of the tanks? And that happened in full daylight.
Another memory - a fierce commitment to stay on that stretch of road and its environs, because to leave the area, even for a while, felt like you were turning your back on your country. Best of all, no one on EDSA looked at you like you didn't belong. We were all there, rich and poor, famous and not, young and old. We were all ok with the possibility of dying together. We prayed together, shared food, swapped stories, slept on each other's shoulders.
It was our one brief shining moment. Our gift to the world. It's sad that we failed EDSA. I hope we get the chance to make penance.
Edwin,
I was a college freshman. I lived in Greenhills East, walking distance from EDSA. My classmates divided ourselves into a day shift and a night shift. My house became the base from which we would gather and set off for EDSA. The day shift would stay til around 7PM, the night shift would arrive around 5PM and stay til around 8AM when the day shift was just coming back. I didn't sleep for two days but I didn't feel it at all.
I was standing in front of a tank on Ortigas corner EDSA, when the soldiers started the engine and revved it up to scare us away. I was directly in the tank's path and got scared so I tried to move aside out of its direct path but everyone else did the opposite and ran toward the tank. They had no fear. Or at least they were better at confronting it then I was. I couldn't move away so I let the crowd push me toward the tank. Thank God the driver decided not to move. People were crying and praying. I was just glad I didn't get run over.
Beside me were rich and poor standing together, treating each other like equals.
Who would have thought back then that it would lead to this?
No one gives a damn anymore.
What an extreme coincidence anonymous. During Edsa 2 I used to ride my bike out the Edsa/Ortigas gate of GH East to observe the 3 days of 24/7 demonstrations that led up to 20 Jan 2001.
In contrast to the hair-raising recollection you just shared, what I recall the most is the all-night Trance Music and dance fest going on near the Couples For Christ tent, which was giving out sandwiches (nice ones!) and drinks. In the dark, the luminescence of cell phone reflected young, eager faces reliving perhaps what they had heard about the heroism of Edsa 1.
But Erap was no Marcos. And I guess, neither is Gloria a Cory.
Edwin, I like your thoughts. Care to exchange hard reciprocal links? Create a link to my blog, I'll do the same...
I was only a kid then, about seven years old. I don't have any recollection. All I know are from articles in the papers.
EDSA 2 has become a joke, a picnic, a pale shadow. If EDSA 1 is a tragedy, EDSA 2 is a farce, to paraphrase Marx.
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