An eyebrow-raising presence
I attended the Jabidah massacre anniversary rites in Corregidor in 2008 because I felt it was my duty as a citizen to know “my history.” I can still clearly remember the event. There were “caravans” of Mindanaoans converging in Manila, from where they were to proceed to Corregidor on a convoy of rented buses and jeepneys. There were lumad, Moros, and non-Muslims from different parts of Mindanao and Sulu to grace the event and they were mostly members of people’s organizations and Mindanao-based civil society groups.
In the bus, I sat beside a former Moro National Liberation Front combatant; at the back of our seat were Moro Islamic Liberation Front representatives. I had never sat beside a Moro that long, fearing I’d be marked as a rebel by government. On our way to Bataan, endless stories of bakwits (refugees), the “old days,” and the excitement of meeting the Jabidah massacre’s lone survivor, Jibin Arula, for the first time and hearing the story directly from him was palpable.
Since then, the Jabidah massacre commemoration has become a “sacred space” of freedom for me. In that space, Moros freely talked about their stories, relished the narrative of their struggle as a people to become a nation; nobody feared of being accused of treason and insurgency, and words like “self-determination,” “freedom” and “Filipino colonial government” were spat out without hesitation. And stories of their longing for peace and freedom as a nation were shared openly. As a Filipino, it was the best education I got by far about the history of my country, and the most modest but most effective lecture on human freedom.
Article continues after this advertisementLast March 18, President Aquino was the guest of honor at the 45th anniversary of the Jabidah massacre. I was absent from the event as I chose to visit the Sangir Moros’ of Balut Island to continue “my education” that started five years ago in Corregidor. But the news of P-Noy at the anniversary struck me with both disdain and horror. I felt sad, dismayed at this display of hypocrisy by our government leaders led by the President himself. Who invited the politicians to grace this activity? Why was the Filipino President present in this event considered a sacred space of freedom among Moros and the best opportunity for Filipinos to learn their history beyond the government’s nationalist agenda?
As expected, P-Noy took the opportunity to lash out at critics of his administration and its peace efforts with the MILF. The worst part of it, from the mouth of a Filipino president, the narrative of the Moros’ struggle, their history and the Jabidah massacre itself were recalled to convince a captive Moro audience to not believe anyone but the government, and to look forward as Filipinos because looking back means falling victims to the manipulation of past Moro leaders who led the thousands of Moros to their deaths.
I’m so sorry, Mr. President, after 45 years the fallen Jabidah martyrs have still to find justice, and it’s not about compensation from government, it is about the most fundamental of all human relationships: respect.
Article continues after this advertisement—ROGELIO BRAGA,
ogiebraga@yahoo.com