Let’s move on from that martial law thingy

SINGAPORE—Martial law has been reduced to a Twitter meme. After Sen. Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr.’s near win as vice president, the Edsa generation now bequeaths the narrative’s framing. It will be shaped by young voters who do not disbelieve martial law’s horrors, but are critical of how much work remains to make democracy real.

Clau (@zappybands) tweeted shortly after the voting ended: “Mababait ang mga Marcos (the Marcoses are kind), some people don’t just see it because they focus on the Martial Law thingy :-(” After #LabanLeni (Fight Leni), “martial law thingy” trended last May 9.

After Marcos won 14 million votes, the martial law thingy can no longer be dismissed as ignorant sacrilege. It must be recognized as legitimate opinion.

I was struck by a conversation with Aiya Balingit, a Technological University of the Philippines 2013 graduate and an aspiring painter. In postelection frustration, she asked why, after the Edsa Revolution, one had the Mendiola massacre, the Hacienda Luisita massacre, the Ampatuan massacre, and countless extrajudicial killings. Is it easier to gloss over these simply because martial law is over?

I suggested she publish her thoughts on behalf of the 2010’s youth in a discussion dominated by the 1980s youth. But she felt constrained by an unspoken social convention that all became right again after Edsa, Tita Cory Aquino in her yellow dress, and the crowds singing “Bayan Ko.” Perhaps she will ask her questions in a painting and wrap it with a little of the comfortable vagueness of visual art.

I floated the “martial law thingy.” Her painting sidekick Yeo Kaa quipped in parody that they were not yet born then so “shut up ka na lang.” Actor Daniel Padilla inspired a preelection meme when he told “nagmamagaling (know-it-all)” nonvoters “shut up ka na lang.”

These are socially conscious young artists well acquainted with martial law. They are hardly the stereotyped clueless, brainwashed millennials.

Incidentally, the cruel stereotype proved false. Preelection surveys showed Marcos had more support among older voters. Marcos won 45 percent of OFW votes compared to opponent Leni Robredo’s 19 percent, and there are few very young OFWs. In key countries with over 50,000 votes, Marcos won 55 percent of China/Hong Kong, 41 percent of the United Arab Emirates, 38 percent of Singapore and 29 percent of the United States.

We must reevaluate the Edsa narrative in the face of the 2016 election data.

Carmma’s (Campaign Against the Return of the Marcoses to Malacañang) viral video featured interviews with 19- to 22-year-olds who praised the martial law that took place before they were born.

One describes: “Ang higpit niya ay parang pagmamahal ng magulang (Its strictness was like a parent’s love).” The interviewers reveal they are martial law victims and tell their stories. One girl is so moved she hugs her interviewer.

This claimed narrative is both thought-provoking and frustrating.

First, it emphasizes a generational divide. This has been the tone of public commentary on millennials, martial law and the election, down to the 2014 attacks on Ateneo de Manila students who took selfies with Imelda Marcos. This unconsciously implies millennials must be guilty for not yet being born in 1986 and not learning the facts of martial law from textbooks prescribed by their elders. It implies the youth are not equal participants, so “shut up ka na lang.”

Second, the claimed narrative implies it is illegitimate for millennials to be more conscious of the 2000s than the distant 1970s. One may certainly criticize someone for not knowing the facts of martial law. However, can one similarly dismiss a young idealist who wants to talk about the SAF 44 or the Kidapawan farmers more than martial law?

We coined “necropolitics” as a cynical term for getting elected after a relative’s death. A vulgar meme for the 2016 elections asked that if Cory was elected after Ninoy Aquino died, and Noynoy Aquino was elected after Cory died, should Mar Roxas assassinate his wife? Underneath this black humor, however, lurks the question of whether it is time to add events beyond 1986 to the narrative.

Sen. Alan Peter Cayetano stole the vice presidential debate with, “Can I have one minute? Or pati iyon, nanakawin mo pa rin (Or will you steal even that)?” But individualistic millennials note that criticism of Bongbong Marcos still returns to martial law. When Bongbong Marcos trumpets his 1998-2007 track record as governor of Ilocos Norte, the response is “Never again!” When Bongbong Marcos debates the Bangsamoro Basic Law in 2015, the response is “Never again!” This is unimpressive engagement of a democratically elected senator.

Marcos’ near election and hundreds of thousands of #LabanLeni tweets have spurred calls to review history textbooks and open martial law museums. Education Secretary Armin Luistro has fortunately outlined that students must be taught how to check primary sources for themselves and form their own judgments, instead of institutionalizing a sermon.

One hopes our education is extended from the end of World War II not just to 1986 but to 2016. When youth appear receptive to moving on from that martial law thingy, they do not intend to forget it. Rather, they hope to avoid inheriting a truncated tale that ends in 1986.

The tone of our democracy’s story will now be set by Twitter’s Aika Robredo-Sandro Marcos rivalry and salaciously subversive #RP69fanfic more than the iconic 1997 documentary “Batas Militar.” It will now be retold by those not present, just like the gospels. No one knows how a critical new generation will choose to immortalize it, but if the election social media frenzy is any gauge, it will surely be as impassioned as the first drafts.

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