Social ills end up being trivialized when they are consigned to political personalities. This is apparent in the manner that the Filipinos’ struggle against tyranny under martial law has been reduced to a clear-cut Marcos vs. Aquino rivalry. Although the families of Marcos and Aquino may appear to represent opposed perspectives on Philippine history, contemporary affairs, and beyond—we must weigh the more profound repercussions of authoritarianism and martial law against a liberated and pluralistic society.
Shortly after the Marcoses were ousted in the 1986 People Power Uprising, these buzzwords were coined: “never forget” and “never again.” The former refers to using memory’s capacity to prevent history from repeating, while the latter urges people not to lose sight of it. There has always been a connection between these calls, with the first answering the second. However, it appears that “never forget, never again” has been reduced to only denouncing the Marcos family, which allows for the narrowing of conversation to superficial evaluations of these individuals in question. Justice was a function of memory; it was not an end in and of itself.
Misdirected attention
Critical analyses of the reasons and pressures underpinning the declaration, the fourteen years of brutality that ensued, and the resulting consequences are noticeably absent from the specials, features, and other narratives commemorating the annual declaration of martial law. Judging from the issuances in the media, the same trivialization and apathy have remained obvious among young and even older Filipinos for years. Although students are expressing outrage, is this only rhetoric or a call to action? Are statements in social media sufficient if one does not hold national leaders accountable for maintaining comparable authoritarian practices?
The common scenario indicates an endorsement of the mainstream framework that the dictatorship would not have occurred if Ferdinand Marcos Sr. had not been elected into the presidency and that the nation’s collapse into repression was only caused by the self-interest and corruption of a particular individual, his spouse, and allies. The political system’s authoritarian foundations are overlooked—hiding behind a democratic façade that conceals the obviousness that numerous families—who have benefited from decades of using their monopolies on political power to advance and protect their own interests and those of their foreign backers—had an imperative role in upholding the system.
Being aware of why dictatorship arose and, even more so, why it might still occur requires viewing the martial law era as the natural outcome of the nation’s elite-driven political system. The media should never stop emphasizing to its audience how essential it is never again to tolerate repressive regimes. What is even more crucial, though, is that everybody must keep an eye on the political system—which hasn’t changed much in the fifty-two years since Proclamation 1081—and inform the current and next generations about the necessity of democratizing it.
Never again?
In the minds of those rejecting the serious consequences of historical revisionism and denialism—particularly about the Marcos family’s distorted historical narrative and their political resurgence—the phrase “never again” has become a hallmark.
Yet, martial law was imposed twice after the ousting of the Marcos Regime. Then-President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo issued Proclamation No. 1959 in December 2009 following the massacre of 58 individuals—primarily media personnel—in the provinces of Maguindanao, Sultan Kudarat, and Cotabato City. Soon after, hundreds of fighters from the Maute and Abu Sayyaf armed groups besieged Marawi, prompting Rodrigo Duterte to declare Proclamation No. 216 in May 2017.
The Marcos family has managed to effectively recast Martial Law as a form of the Golden Age of a gracious regime. This historical machismo lures us because it takes advantage of our lack of a well-developed historical sensibility. “Never again” calls not merely the Marcoses but also a reversion of their ideology, the revocation of human rights in the name of a vague peace and order, the institutionalization of state-sponsored plunder, and the impunity of a nation absorbed by a conjugal dictatorship—subjected to the eccentricities of a family. It opposes elevating devotion to an individual above feelings of reverence for one’s nation.
Supporters of the Marcoses view the words “never again” as a denial of their favored political personality. In a sense, it is. However, this line addresses much more than just a binary political personality dispute. It is a disapproval of state fascism and of the Filipinos’ disposition to yield their autonomy—all for fleeting security measures that were granted by more and more repressive militarized and police units operating with impunity.
History used to be an oasis of direction and reason, albeit today it is deemed as the anti-thesis of nation-building. There are popular calls to “move on” from recalling, as it supposedly divides the nation and obstructs progress—perilously warping our sense of national identity that is grounded in our past.
The continued existence of bygones
Forgetting means giving up on the truth. Trailing in the footsteps of the Madres de Plaza de Mayo, the mother of the Desaparecidos in Argentina, the Filipinos must urgently create a “memoria futile”—a recollection that quenches the need and longing for justice. Our past has been replayed countless times; we remain struggling with the aftermath of Martial Law as we failed to “never forget,” leading to the collapse of the pursuit of “never again.”
Extrajudicial killings, enforced disappearances, and tortures continue until today. It is ridiculous that the leaders of the underground movement—who were the core of the opposition to Martial Law—were excluded from Corazon Aquino’s “new democracy” and turned into assassination targets.
The plundering of the national treasury remains a holdover from decades ago—the counterfeiting of budgetary reserves and foreign economic aid and kickbacks of public works projects.
Lumads in Mindanao are still facing displacement from their homelands due to militarization. Farmers’ stomachs are rumbling in hunger while upholding their rights to food security and livelihood. Activists and martyrs are suffering in the fight for genuine democracy and freedom. All in the prevailing impunity.
From the necessity of a more comprehensive and clearer historical knowledge, condemnation of historical amnesia and denialism, to a more political connotation as a catchphrase against impunity and tyranny—the mantra “never forget, never again” must not let the historical discourse be condensed to the mere clash of political idols.
It may also turn out challenging to retain a sense of remembrance, particularly when many in positions of authority favor forgetting as a remedy for the issues facing the nation. Even so, we must not pass on the responsibility of remembering simply to the victims and their families—as it hinges on a false impression that Martial Law annihilated only a small number of individuals, when truth be told, it was the entire nation that suffered.
It is an illusion to believe that the present has been retrieved and the future is brand new. An early judgment on an impasse that hasn’t ended and is still raging. An amateurish finale to a historical chapter that is far from over.
