About five years ago, I found myself in a bright, breezy room with Leila de Lima. It was way past noon. A beautiful, sunny day had greeted all well-wishers who visited her in the detention facility in Camp Crame earlier in the day.
After filling out some paperwork and leaving all my belongings with police officers, I was escorted to the visitors’ quarter. The room was clean and all white. No trace of luxury. There was no air-conditioning. And yet, it felt like one of the brightest and breeziest corners of the city, especially when De Lima walked in with a reassuring smile and resplendent dignity.
Cognizant of both the content of her character and the dark uncertainty enveloping her life, a part of me fervently hoped to see a Mandela-like figure, who could courageously defy both personal tragedy and political adversity.
Although we barely had a single proper conversation before that fateful meeting, I immediately skipped any small talk and, instead, engaged in soulful conversation with a tinge of unfathomable familiarity. After all, she had read my works, especially in these august pages, so she was perhaps familiar with the coordinates of my thoughts. On my part, I looked forward to hearing from the firebrand senator, who had perilously confronted the most terrifying man to have ever occupied Malacañan Palace.
For me, she was, along with the likes of Antonio Trillanes IV, a pillar of selfless resistance against the evils of demagoguery. Quickly, it became clear to me that De Lima had seamlessly elevated herself to a higher moral plain through spiritual introspection. So, I wasted no time discussing the country’s grim political landscape and unabashedly shared ideas about how the opposition could collectively hold the line against the onslaught of murderous authoritarianism.
Having stoically accepted her tortuous ordeal with leonine bravery, she brimmed with the audacity of hope. After jointly surveying granular developments in Philippine politics, I suggested to her that it would be a great idea if she had joined—perhaps through a letter or a pre-recorded video—a press conference or any public event featuring all the incredibly valiant women who have stood up to Rodrigo Duterte’s despotism.
At the time, the idea seemed fanciful, if not outright delusional, given justified fears of a systematic crackdown on any voice of dissent. But De Lima immediately warmed up to the idea, even as she admitted that she had to prepare for the possibility of spending the rest of her days in arbitrary detention, or worse. A conspiracy of events, including the COVID-19 pandemic, militated against that “united front” idea. Not to mention, De Lima barely escaped death during a harrowing hostage-taking crisis in the final days of the Duterte presidency.
Against all odds, however, the upcoming elections have provided a historic opportunity for that united front to finally crystallize. Not long after regaining her freedom, De Lima made the heroic decision to throw her hat back into the ring by contesting for a seat in the House of Representatives under a revitalized opposition political party. And she is far from alone.
Her fellow Bicolana, former vice president Leni Robredo, who singularly inspired million-strong “pink rallies” in major cities, has made it clear that she will continue to serve her people by leading an inspired “Team Naga” in next year’s elections. Jose Manuel “Chel” Diokno, a champion of human rights and the rule of law, is vying for a congressional seat under the auspices of the progressive Akbayan party.
They are joined by other champions of pluralistic politics, including former senators Paolo Benigno “Bam” Aquino IV and Francis “Kiko” Pangilinan as well as progressives such as ACT Teachers Rep. France Castro and labor leader Leodegario de Guzman.
As if that weren’t inspiring enough, tough, youthful, and single-minded statesmen such as Vico Sotto and Trillanes are contesting crucial mayoral positions, which could positively transform the lives of millions of Filipino families. Just as De Lima rightfully transcended her seemingly impossible circumstances a few years earlier just to be ultimately vindicated in style, we also should defy cynicism by looking beyond the cabal of clownish and crooked figures seeking elected office next year. Fortunately, there is no shortage of inspiring candidates. All they need are your electoral support and precious votes.
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rheydarian@inquirer.com.ph