‘Hillary’s heckler’
The planned visit of US Secretary of State John Kerry to the Philippines, which was cancelled at the last minute, made me reminisce about another state visit, made nearly two years ago, by then US Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton. That state visit changed the course of my life and earned me the moniker “Hillary’s heckler.”
It was Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2011, at around 9 a.m. when I received a text message from an unfamiliar number saying that I was invited to a “conversation in Manila” with the former US first lady that would take place the following day at the National Museum. It took a few minutes for me to realize what I had just read, as I was extremely drowsy after putting to bed another issue of the Philippine Collegian, the official student publication of the University of the Philippines Diliman. I was its editor in chief at the time.
But I did not hesitate to confirm attendance. As an avid observer of US politics, I knew where Hillary stood in her country, and the event meant a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for student leaders and campus journalists to pose hard questions to one of the world’s most powerful women.
* * *
That night, I reviewed my past articles and researches on the strained and highly unequal relationship between the Philippines and the United States. I formulated questions for Hillary, keeping in mind that she was in the country for the 60th anniversary of the Mutual Defense Treaty (MDT). This treaty between the Philippines and America supposedly allows “mutual” support for the two parties in times of need. It paved the way for the Visiting Forces Agreement (VFA), which allows US troops to enter our shores and conduct military exercises.
As I tossed and turned in bed, I recalled my readings in Philippine history as well as the fiery patriotic essays and speeches by Claro M. Recto and Renato Constantino, and the discussions on imperialism and hegemony that I attended during lunch breaks at UP’s Palma Hall. I remembered my brief interview in 2009 with Balikatan whistle-blower and ex-Navy Lt. Nancy Gadian, where she told me how US troops were meddling in the insurgencies in Mindanao and how the US military had been able to maintain a fairly permanent presence in the country despite the lack of a legal basis.
As I reflected upon the gravity of the issues involving our country’s relationship with the United States, it became clear to me that night that it was no longer sufficient to ask hard questions. Being invited to the “conversation in Manila” was an opportunity not just to question meekly but also to expose, oppose, and protest.
* * *
Having resolved what I needed to do during the Clinton forum, I consulted activist friends the following morning. Together we hatched a simple yet daring plan: Along with other student leaders invited to the event, we would sneak protest banners into the venue and hold a lightning rally that I was to lead.
Later I took a bus to Manila and got off a few blocks from the National Museum to meet with other student leaders who were to join me in the lightning protest. We hid the banners in our rather formal attire, and were able to enter the venue nonchalantly.
I sat beside a group of Moro students and waited anxiously for the event to begin. From where I sat, I saw how tightly packed the hall was. A talk-show setup was arranged in front of the audience.
Minutes later, a staff member of the US Embassy came in and instructed us on how to comport ourselves once Hillary arrived. She was quite stern in saying that we should not do anything that would disrupt the event. My stomach turned.
A half hour passed and the US secretary of state arrived and took one of the chairs facing the audience. Soon, I realized that the whole event, hosted by TV giant GMA, was an elaborately scripted show. Celebrities and prominent news reporters asked most of the questions, many bordering on the trivial and the mundane. One even asked Hillary what was in her purse and what songs were in her iPod.
But in time the members of the media started asking more relevant questions, such as the extent of the MDT’s coverage and if the United States would protect the Philippines in the event of an attack by China, which Hillary evaded with ease. My heartbeat quickened, and I sensed that it was time to stand up and launch the lightning rally.
Slowly, I took out the banner hidden in my buttoned-up shirt. And then I rose, shouting, “There’s nothing mutual with the Mutual Defense Treaty! Down with US imperialism! Junk VFA!” Everyone in the hall seemingly froze and looked at me, including Hillary. For a split second, time stopped.
My initial chants were supposed to serve as a signal for the other student leaders to stand up and join me—but no one did. Unfazed, I held my banner—on which were the words “Junk VFA!”—even higher and repeated my chants in a shrill voice. Soon, security personnel approached me. They tugged at my banner and rushed me out of the hall. As I was being escorted out, I heard Hillary mistakenly referring to me as a “lady,” perhaps due to my high-pitched voice.
No sooner had I exited the “conversation in Manila” than hate posts started circulating in the social media. People called me names: attention-grabber, a nuisance, a disgrace to the Filipino people. But I was prepared to face the barrage of criticisms. I knew that on one hand, my person was being slighted for what I did; yet on the other hand, more people were now talking about the MDT, the VFA, and our unequal ties with America that have made our country continually subservient to its strategic, political, and economic interests. People began asking again why our country is still in the tight grip of the United States, and even just for that reason alone, I knew that the risk I took was worth it.
* * *
Hillary’s state visit greatly altered the course of my life. In that packed hall, I faced one of the world’s most powerful women and realized that I needed to stand up for my beliefs even if others would not dare do so.
After Hillary’s visit, I became aware that there is a lot to be done to rekindle the nationalist spirit of the Filipino people, especially the youth. I realized that my calling in life is to rouse, organize and mobilize people to fight for their rights. That is why even if I had years of training and experience as a journalist, I chose to be a full-time activist.
Almost two years have passed, and another US state secretary has committed to visit the country before the year ends, this time to close a bilateral agreement that would allow greater US military presence in the country. When Kerry comes to visit, I will take part in the mass actions—no longer as a single protester in a scripted event, but as a fledgling activist ready to dedicate a lifetime for national democracy.
Marjohara Tucay, 21, is the executive vice president of Kabataan Partylist, the first and only youth representation in Congress. He studied broadcast communication at UP Diliman.
