I was just seven years old when martial law was declared. I did not know what it was all about.
At home we watched on television students holding demonstrations, waving placards and shouting protest mantras. They were angry at the dictatorship and called for the restoration of democracy.
In the classroom, our teacher taught us this song:
May bagong silang/may bago nang buhay, Bagong Bansa, bagong galaw/sa bagong lipunan
Nagbabago ang lahat/tungo sa pag-unlad, at ating itanghal/Bagong Lipunan
May bagong silang/may bago nang buhay, Bagong Bansa, bagong galaw/sa bagong lipunan
Nagbabago ang lahat/tungo sa pag-unlad, at ating itanghal/Bagong Lipunan
Ang gabi’y nagmaliw nang ganap, at lumipas na ang magdamag
Madaling araw/ay nagdiriwang, may umagang namasdan
Ngumiti na ang pag-asa, Sa umagang anong ganda!
I mechanically learned to sing the song. The melody was inviting and the rhythm marched with vigor.
Early one morning, as I sang this song at home, terrible news broke in the community. Kuya Junior, a young man in the neighborhood, had been shot dead by the Philippine Constabulary. His mother, father and siblings were grieving with all the neighbors. Adult members of the community could not believe that a good man like Kuya Junior would suffer such a fate just because he was out past the curfew hour.
At the time, I still did not understand that the New Society Ferdinand Marcos was promoting was one of terror, suppression and deception. I was ignorant of the thousands of victims of salvaging, enforced disappearances and other forms of human rights violations.
It was difficult then to openly criticize the atrocities of the conjugal dictatorship of Marcos and his wife Imelda. I remember my teachers whispering to each other when they had negative things to say about Marcos. In the community, old men and women would caution any person who spoke against Marcos.
I thought that this was normal. Only when the protests of the progressive movement gained ground and exposed the bankruptcy and evil deeds of the Marcos regime, did my perception begin to change. To the frustration of Marcos, persecution, salvaging, disappearances and unspeakable torture targeting activists, progressives and supporters of the movement did not stop freedom fighters from carrying out their struggle for national sovereignty and democracy. And their sacrifices finally bore fruit and toppled the Marcos dictatorship in 1986.
Looking back, I can say that a dictator will never admit that he is a dictator. A dictator uses threats and even manipulates the law for his benefit, in the guise of maintaining peace and stability and pursuing development, when in fact what drives him is his resolve to protect his personal interests and perpetuate himself in power. A dictator will employ any means at his disposal to mislead the public—this is clear to me as I remember that marching music that had me believing in a New Society.
“Never again, never again to martial law!”
—NORMA P. DOLLAGA,
Kapatirang Simbahan Para sa Bayan,
kasimbayan@yahoo.com.ph