ni Aldrin Villegas

Dibuho ni Guia Abogado

Tila digmaan ang sinusuong sa pagtalunton sa kahabaan ng EDSA. Nilalason ng hangin ang baga, nagpapaligsahan ang mga busina, nakikipagpatintero kay Kamatayan ang mga motorista.

Tila patikim ang EDSA sa napakahabang paglalakbay ng bansa patungong hustisya’t kaunlaran. Ngunit higit sa pagkakakilanlan nito ngayon dahil sa malalang trapiko, naging lunan ng tunggalian ang EDSA ng mapanghamong pagkilos ng mga mamamayan laban sa diktadurya ni Ferdinand Marcos.

Tatlong dekada matapos pabagsakin ng taumbayan ang rehimeng Marcos, tila natrapik sa EDSA ang makinarya ng demokrasya. Minamaniobra pa rin ng naghaharing uri ang manibela ng bansa, at inuungusan pa rin ng iilan ang taumbayang naiipit sa buhul-buhol na mga problema.

Pagmulat

Kabilang sa mahigit dalawang milyong kataong dumagsa sa EDSA si Bernadette Aquino o Nanay Bernie, bilanggong pulitikal ni Marcos. Apelyido lang ang pagkakapareho niya sa pamilyang Cojuangco-Aquino. Sa katunayan, isa siya sa mga lider-estudyante noong panahon ng Martial Law.

Hanggang ngayon, may talas at talab pa rin ang pananalita ng halos sisenta anyos na ginang. Malakas at masigla pa rin si Nanay Bernie na patuloy sa pagmumulat ng mga kabataang tila nakakalimot na sa madilim na bahagi ng kasaysayan ng bansa.

Ayon sa Amnesty International, isang global human rights organization, may 70,000 bilanggong pulitikal, 34,000 biktima ng tortyur at 3,240 katao ang pinatay noong Martial Law. Samantala, pinakamalalang krisis sa ekonomiya ang naranasan sa pagkalugi ng mga industriya ng asukal, niyog, at kopra. Sa ilalim ni Marcos, lumobo rin ang utang ng bansa mula $2 bilyon hanggang $30 bilyon, habang dumami pa ang bilang ng mahihirap mula 24 porsyento patungong 40 porsyento. Tumaas din ang presyo ng langis nang mahigit 16 na beses, at anim na porsyento ang naitalang taunang pagbaba ng sahod ng mga manggagawa.

Bilang estudyante ng Economics sa Philippine College of Commerce (PCC) na ngayon ay Polytechnic University of the Philippines, sa ganitong krisis nagsimulang mamulat si Nanay Bernie sa tunay na kalagayan ng bansa. Mula sa mga isyu tulad ng pagkakaltas ng badyet ng PCC hanggang sa mga usaping lumalagos sa tarangkahan ng pamantasan, kasama niya ang mga ordinaryong mamamayang nanguna sa pagbabago.

“We started organizing the students. Hindi lang tayo estudyante. May higit [na] responsibilidad to give back to the people,” aniya. Malaking hamon ito para kay Nanay Bernie dahil nakatataas na opisyal ng militar ang kanyang ama na dekano noon ng National Defense College. Pinapaliwanagan niya ito at sa umpugan ng ideya, naiigpawan ang tunggalian upang makausad sa susunod na hakbang.

Alam ni Nanay Bernie na maaari siyang pahirapan at pagsamantalahan tulad ng panggagahasa, pagkuryente, at iba pang tortyur na sinapit ng kanyang mga kasama. Matapos mamulat sa piniling landas, pinagtibay niya ang paninidigan sa pagsali sa mga progresibong organisasyon. Inspirasyon at paalala sa tunay na diwa ng EDSA ang kanyang mga anak na pinangalanan niyang Dakila, Diwa at Kalayaan.

Pag-oorganisa

Hindi man sinapit ng mga anak ni Nanay Bernie ang Martial Law, tila Batas Militar naman ang dinanas ng anak ni Nanay Nimfa Lazanas sa ilalim ng administrasyon ni Pangulong Benigno Aquino III.

Sa tala ng grupong Hustisya, nasa 557 ang mga bilanggong pulitikal sa kasalukuyan, kung saan 136 ang kabataan, 88 ang may sakit, 50 ang senior citizen, at 50 ang kababaihan. Hindi man aktibo noon sa EDSA si Nanay Nimfa, ang pagiging bilanggong pulitikal ng anak niyang si Eduard ang nagtulak sa kanyang lumaban para sa anak at iba pang biktima.

Katatapos lamang ng high school nang magsimulang mag-organisa si Eduard ng mga magsasaka sa Laguna. Kasama niya si Andrea Rosal, ang anak ni Ka Roger na tagapagsalita ng Partido Komunista ng Pilipinas.

Patungo sila noon sa ospital para magpacheck-up ang noo’y buntis na si Andrea nang harangin sila ng mga miyembro ng National Bureau of Investigation at akusahang kasapi ng New People’s Army.

Kalunus-lunos ang sinapit ni Andrea na piniit sa kulungang mas maliit pa sa silid-aralan kasama ang 31 na kapwa bilanggo. Nagkasakit siya ng pneumonia at kakulangan ng oxygen sa dugo subalit hindi siya pinalabas ng kulungan hanggang sa siya ay manganak. Dahil sa kumplikasyon, namatay ang sanggol matapos ang dalawang araw at ni hindi pinayagan si Andrea na dumalo sa libing ng sariling anak.

Bunso naman sa tatlong magkakapatid si Eduard, na kinakitaan ng galing bilang guro sa Alternative Learning System. “Hindi sakit ng lipunan ang anak ko. Pero winasak nila [ang] kinabukasan, pati pagkatao [niya],” ani Nanay Nimfa.

Para sa kanya, walang pinagkaiba ang administrasyong Aquino sa panahon ng Martial Law. “Inaaresto ‘yung mga nagsasalita, sinasampahan ng kaso na ‘di naman nila ginawa. Sinusupil ang aming mga karapatan—sa pagpapahayag, sa paninirahan, sa hanapbuhay,” aniya.

Bunsod nito, kusang lumalahok si Nanay Nimfa sa mga pagkilos upang ipanawagan ang pagpapalaya sa anak at mga bilanggong pulitikal. Nangunguna na rin ito sa mga kilos-protesta bilang tagapagsalita at kasapi ng Karapatan-Laguna.

Pagkilos

Habang patuloy ang pananamantala, pagtapak sa karapatan, at pagsikil sa kalayaan, itinutulak nito ang sambayan na kumilos, tutulan, at panagutin ang pamahalaan—pasulong mula sa nasimulan ng EDSA.

Ngunit pinupuksa ngayon ang diwa ng EDSA ng mga kasinungalingan ng isang bagong rehimeng Aquino. Habang idinadambana ang sariling mga magulang bilang mga bayani, ibinabaon ni Noynoy Aquino sa limot ang alaala ng kapangyarihan ng mamamayang tunay na nakipaglaban para sa demokrasya.

Sa muling paggunita ng EDSA, mainam na linawing nagpapatuloy ang karahasan, katiwalian ng gobyerno, laganap na kahirapan at kagutuman, kahit hanggang sa kasalukuyan. Ayon kay Dr. Carol Araullo, kasalukuyang tagapangulo ng Bagong Alyansang Makabayan at isa sa mga lider-estudyante ng UP noong panahon ng Martial Law: “Bumagsak ang diktadurya pero hindi ang bulok na sistema.”

Sa gayak ng “demokrasya,” ibinalik lamang ni Cory ang pamumuno ng mga elitista na uring kinabibilangan niya, kaya para kay Araullo, hindi kataka-takang walang tunay at makabuluhang pagbabagong nararamdaman ang mga mamamayan.

“Ang manufacturing natin katulad pa rin noong ‘50s. We were producing agricultural goods then for our domestic consumption, but now even basic goods are imported,” ani Araullo.

Napanatili rin ng mga Marcos ang impluwensya nito sa pulitika hindi lang sa baluarte nila sa Ilocos kundi sa buong bansa. Sa katunayan, tumatakbo pa ngayon si Senador Ferdinand Marcos Jr. bilang bise-presidente.

Malinaw samakatwid ang kahingiang humalaw ng inspirasyon mula sa milyun-milyong mga bayani ng EDSA at lagutin ang siklo ng kahirapan at pananamantala. Pinatunayan ng EDSA na mulat at militanteng mga mamamayan lamang ang magpapatumba ng anumang pasistang rehimen. Ito ang hamon sa kasalukuyang henerasyon ng kabataan na siyang mga tagapagmana ng tunay na diwa ng People Power.

Photo by Katrina Artiaga

by Daniel Boone

To strangers, the Shopping Center (SC) looks nothing more than a dilapidated building crammed with stores. But to UP students, the SC is a “life saver.” Compared to many establishments outside UP, it offers a variety of affordable products and services—from food and school supplies, to computer rentals and haircuts.

Yet this humble establishment is not just a commercial hub but the very manifestation of the UP community’s culture of service.

History of the SC

It was in 1975 when the first stalls in SC opened after the request of students for an accessible hub for services. Four decades later, most these stores are still open to serve students including popular food stalls like Rodic’s.

Remy’s Beauty Parlor is also one of these pioneer stores. Before SC was built, students had to go all the way to Cubao to find a place to eat. SM North and the business complex in Philcoa would not be constructed until much later.

In fact, Nanay Remy played a significant role in the establishment of SC as both students and the UP officials visit her for haircuts.

She recalled that students would often tell her how it was so difficult to buy food and school supplies. She then relayed the message to the wife of then UP President Salvador P. Lopez, who also frequently visited her.

In response, the UP administration loaned money to be able to pay for the SC’s construction which was completed in 1975, according to Nanay Remy, “Wala pang P400 [isang buwan] ang renta noon. Bale sa nasisingil nila, kalahati [ay ginagamit] pambayad sa utang, ‘yung kalahati kita ng UP. After 10 years, sa UP na itong building.”

Nanay Remy boasts that all UP Presidents go to Nanay Remy to get their hair or nails done, except President Angara, whose administration implemented the first rental fee hike, from less than P400 to almost P2,000 every month, Nanay Remy recounted.

For 40 years, the stalls in SC have seen many UP students come and go, including some who went on to become famous celebrities. For instance, Eraserheads lead guitarist Marcus Adoro and blogger and columnist Jessica Zafra have both said they get their eyewear from Sarabia Optical shop in SC.

Rental hike

Beginning his year, however, rental fees in SC were increased from P80 per square meter to P450. On average, stallholders who used to pay less than P2,000 a month will now pay P12,602.76.

The increase in fees will supposedly be used to provide security and renovation for the 40 year old establishment, according to the Business Concessionaires Office (BCO). “UP Diliman will renovate and improve the area so as to comply with all the government requirements, specifically compliance with the National Building Code and the Fire Code of the Philippines,” said BCO Director Raquel Florendo.

Some stalls were forced to also increase their prices. For instance, school supply store Holy Book raised their prices by P1. Meanwhile, a haircut in Edwin Eugenio’s barbershop was increased from P65 to P80. However, most stallholders chose not to increase their “student-friendly” price. Photocopying services remain P0.50 per page, while an hour of computer rental is still P15 per hour.

The BCO implemented the 463 percent increase this February, but stallholders were asked to pay their January dues at the new rates, according to Lawrence Torres, owner of Zodiac Computronics.

Moreover, although a security guard was deployed to patrol the SC, the renovation of the building has yet to start. “For the P12,000, what I expect is [improvement] in the surroundings. We asked for a date, and they said ASAP (as soon as possible),” said Dr. Nella Sarabia, owner of Sarabia Optical.

Stallholders also condemn the prohibition of the use of mezzanines, which they built to provide extra space for employees and customers.

“Kami naman ang nagpagawa niyan with the approval of the Architect’s Office ng UP… Kung sa tingin nila ay hindi safe, bakit hindi nila ipa-check sa mga licensed structural engineers?” said Torres. “Kung sasabihin ng engineers na hindi safe at kailangang magdagdag ng pundasyon o poste, willing naman kaming mag-comply.”

Meanwhile, under the new contract signed by the stall holders, only P11,191.50 will go to the rental fees. They will also have to pay P1342.98 for tax, P40 for garbage collection, and P28.28 for insurance fees. Electric fees are not included and are paid separately.

Also written in the contract is the provision that the fees will increase three percent every year until 2018. The P450 that stallholders pay this year will increase to P463.50 next year until it eventually becomes P477.42 the following year. By that time, average stallholders will have to pay P13,370.27 every month.

Aside from these problems, stalls in SC currently do not have any piped-in water supply. In desperation, some stalls—especially those which sell food—now get their water supply from deep wells, which has been illegal since 2004.

Reality check

Stallholders in SC do not treat their service to UP community as business. After all, students and professors spearheaded the campaign for the construction of the SC, and they are its primary stakeholders. However, they were never consulted regarding the increase in rental fees.

In fact, even student leaders and officials of the UP administration recognize SC’s role to the UP community. “Hanggang ngayon kumakain pa rin ako [sa SC, at doon] din ako nagpapa-xerox ng books,” said UP Diliman (UPD) Vice-Chancellor for Community Affairs Nestor Castro.

“Dapat dumaan sa masinsinang dialogues sa pagitan ng BCO at ng mga stall owners [‘yung increase]. Matanda na ‘yung building at kailangang maayos, pero dahil mabagal at matagal ‘yung proseso, napag-iwanan na ang SC kahit pa sobrang daming nagpupunta rito para sa serbisyong hated nito sa komunidad,” said UPD University Student Council (USC) Councilor Beata Carolino.

The hike in rental fees is nothing but against UP’s tradition of service to the community, said Library Information Science student Gillian Reyes. “The SC has always offered somewhat fair prices for services, and it [has been a home] to small-time ventures,” he explained. For students like him, this community culture is what makes it different from the Ayala-operated UP Town Center, whose name actually means nothing but a marketing strategy.

ni Chester Higuit

Hinahandog ng Sinagbayan ang “Daluyong: Isang Pahinumdom,” isang dulang nagpapaalala sa pagpapatuloy ng naratibo ng mga biktima ng bagyong Yolanda dalawang taon makalipas ang trahedya.

Halaw ang dula sa mga kwento ng karanasan ng mga biktima ng bagyong Yolanda na nakapanayam ng mga direktor at aktor nang magtungo sila sa Palo at Tacloban. Sila ang naging inspirasyon ng grupo sa pagtatanghal, ayon sa direktor na si Ekis Gimenez.

Isinisawalat ng Daluyong ang kasalukuyan nang kalagayan ng mga biktima ng bagyo: kawalan pa rin ng kabuhayan dahil sa panghaharang sa kanilang mga sinasakang lupain at karagatang pinangingisdaan, dahil inilaan na ang mga ito para sa mga pribadong kumpanya.

Sa halip na kalingain, tila wala kahit simpatiya ang mga opisyal ng pamahalaan. Sa halip na mga proyektong makapag-aahon sa mga biktima mula sa kahirapan, ginawang katuwaan ang mga biktima sa pamamagitan ng mga fun run, patimpalak sa pag-arte, at mga poster-making contests.

Ngunit bagaman ukol sa trahedya, matagumpay ang paggamit nito ng komedya. Mahusay ang mga linya na palaging umaani ng halakhak mula sa mga manonood. Mahusay din ang istilo ng dula kung saan kalahok ang ilang manonood sa pagtatanghal, gaya ng isang manonood na gumanap na kasintahan ng isang aktres at isang estudyante na gumanap namang kandidato sa eleksyon. Makatototohan ang pagganap ng buong cast na binubuo ng mga mag-aaral ng Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP) Sta. Mesa.

Sa pagtatapos ng Daluyong, tinugtog ang orihinal na musika ng musical director na si Avon Ang, umakyat sa entablado ang lahat ng mga karakter upang magkapit-bisig. Ang takot ng kanilang mga mata at pangamba sa mga unang bahagi ng palabas ay napalitan na ng pag-asa at paninidigang bumangon: “Tayo ang tumutulong at bumubuhat sa isa’t isa. Ang pagnanasa nating bumangon ang ating daluyong.”

Ang dulang ito ang mga halimbawa ng dulang mas maganda kung itinatanghal sa malalaking Teatro dahil sa kalidad ng pagtatanghal at sa mensaheng ipinababatid nito.

Muling itatanghal ang “Daluyong: Isang Pahinumdom” sa Ma. PS De Leon Triangle Park, PUP Sta. Mesa sa ika-4 at 5 ng Marso sa ganap ng 6:30 ng gabi. Para sa impormasyon at tiket, maaring i-contact ang numerong 09777282080.

(Mga larawang kuha ni Chester Higuit)

by Andrea Lucas

If Kristel Tejada were alive today, she would have been a graduating behavioral sciences student in UP Manila. She would also be on her way to medical school, as she dreamed of being a doctor, of bringing medical assistance to people in far-flung places.

All that remains of Kristel’s dreams now are memories, though so much has happened to her family since her passing. Tatay Chris now has a job at the Manila City Hall, and Nanay Blessie busies herself with caring for her children and activities at her local church.

So much has happened to UP as well since Kristel ended her own life three years ago, after she was forced to quit college due to unpaid tuition—the new Socialized Tuition System (STS), budget cuts, the academic calendar shift, the exansion of the UP Town Center. Yet these changes have not been for the better, and there is no guarantee the story would have been any different if Kristel were still alive today.

Dreaming big

Nanay Blessie describes her daughter as a sweet and kind girl who cared deeply about other people’s welfare and had a lot of friends. Kristel was particularly close to her younger brother, Khristof. “Kung papansinin mo, magkamukha nga sila,” she laughs.

Kristel was an outstanding student. She finished elementary and high school with excellent marks at a Catholic school, though she had to rely on scholarship grants to stay in school. Even in college, she showed as much enthusiasm for learning. One of her professors in UP Manila, Professor Andrea Martinez, recalls her as a student who took her studies seriously, but was also sweet and friendly to her classmates. The professor would often let Kristel attend her classes even when she was barred from enrolling, because she knew how much the girl wanted to study. Kristel once gave her a rose as a token of her gratitude.

Kristel’s humble background did not stop her from dreaming big. When Kristel entered UP, the Tejadas thought that her future was bright and full of promise. They never knew dreams had a price and would cost them their daughter’s life.

Oppressive policies

Three years were not enough to make Tatay Chris and Nanay Blessie forget how difficult it was to send Kristel to UP. Back then, Tatay Chris worked as a part-time taxi driver, while Nanay Blessie stayed at home to mind the house and their three younger children. It was a struggle for them to make ends meet, especially since Kristel’s younger siblings were studying as well. “Iyon ‘yung panahon na talagang bagsak kami,” said Nanay Blessie.

When she entered UP in 2012, Kristel’s matriculation fees were assessed under the Socialized Tuition and Financial Assistance Program (STFAP). Kristel was assigned a P300-per-unit tuition under Bracket D, but her family could even hardly afford their daughter’s school allowance. Their appeals for a lower bracket were denied, so all Kristel and her parents could do at the time was to rely on tuition loans from UP to finance her schooling. There were days when Kristel had to skip meals or sell snacks to her classmates just to cover the costs of her daily expenses.

But loans were only a temporary solution—deferring only the payments that the Tejadas are still obliged to settle. Tatay Chris laments that if only there were more subsidy for state universities like UP, if education truly were considered a right of all youth, there would be no need for students to shoulder the costs of their education. It could have gone a long way in helping Kristel and other youth achieve their dreams.

In recent years, the government has allotted funds to UP which fall short to what it needs. This resulted to staggering budget cuts: P1.43 billion in 2014 and P2.2 billion in 2015.

Many other individuals and progressive groups have rallied behind the call for an increase in state subsidy for UP, but the national government would not hear any of it. In December 2013, just months after Kristel’s death, the UP administration implemented the Socialized Tuition System (STS), its proposed solution to the now infamous STFAP.

However, STS also falls short of addressing the problems STFAP had. While STS did away with much of the long lines and the paper work, it has been fundamentally the same. Tatay Chris points out that UP tuition remains as expensive as ever, an observation that is consistent with the official figures from the Office of Scholarships and Student Services. As of the second semester of the current academic year, only eight percent, or less than one out of ten UP students receive free tuition under the STS.

Continuing struggles

Nowadays, the Tejadas are slowly coming to terms with their loss. “Noong ipinanganak ko ‘yung bunso naming si Kristal, parang ipinanganak ko ulit si Kristel.” Kristal even looks like Kristel, Nanay Blessie notes, and this was why they chose for her a similar name to Kristel. Little by little, she and Tatay Chris have begun to raise their younger children to know and remember Kristel.

Yet the family is not alone in remembering Kristel. “Kahit ngayon, may mga close friends siya na dumadalaw sa puntod niya,” shares Nanay Blessie. They have also met a lot of other friends since Kristel’s death—friends who have promised to continue fighting against the oppressive student policies and conditions that led to her death. “Sapat na ‘yung isang Kristel,” Tatay Chris says.

Nothing will ever replace Kristel in their lives, but Tatay Chris and Nanay Blessie still hopes their children would be able to get into UP like their sister Kristel, and they are determined not to let the past repeat itself. Like Kristel’s friends, they vow to continue to lend their voice to the fight for the right to an accessible and quality education.

by Daniel Boone

Based on figures from the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ), the sum of all the expenses paid for and by all presidential and vice-presidential candidates this elections is already a whopping P4.47 billion, an amount equal to the total annual salaries of more than 25,000 minimum wage earners in Metro Manila.

Such a huge spending of money and resources casts doubt on the democratic aspirations of the elections, for how can the people choose the next leaders of their government when only the rich and already powerful seem destined to prevail?

Money talk

No one can ever totally blame voters for thinking that the elections is a frustrating exercise. Though held regularly, there is little to no change in the lives of ordinary Filipinos even as regimes come and go, leaving people to choose only among the same old family names.

In fact, the Philippines is dubbed as the capital of political dynasties with more than 270 families dominating the elections, according to watchdog Center for People Empowerment in Governance. Among these are names that are already too familiar: Aquino, Roxas, Marcos, Binay, Recto, Singson, and Romualdez among others. Both old and new families, these clans form the political elite of the Philippines, with vast lands, wealth, and power at their disposal.

All these resources are crucial during the election season, especially in funding massive campaigns.

In a game like this, the candidates who spend more are more likely to win. For instance, if surveys are to be believed, presidential candidate Miriam Defensor-Santiago who does not spend much is likely to lose. On the other hand, candidates like Jejomar Binay and Grace Poe, who already spent more than a billion even before the official day of campaigning, are topping the most recent surveys.

Launching a national campaign means capturing the public’s attention, including broadcasting commercials in all forms of media. The cost of a single 30-second political advertisement on major television networks ranges from P200,000 to P500,000. Even the wealthiest candidates cannot possibly afford such a huge amount. No wonder most candidates accept or even solicit donations from businessmen and landlords like Danding Cojuangco and other Chinese entrepreneurs.

Historically, the candidates who spend too much for their campaigns tend to recover their expenses when they are already in the position. For example, ex-president Joseph Estrada spent approximately P117.4 million in his 1998 campaign. Three years later, he was ousted after plundering more than P500 million worth of kickbacks from jueteng.

At all costs

These traditional politicians, or “trapos,” will do everything to win, get back, or retain their privileged positions in government—even fraud is hardly beneath them. In 1969, incumbent president Ferdinand Marcos used $56 million from the Philippine Treasury to finance his campaign and buy votes, according to Marvin Bionat in his book “How to Win (or Lose) in Philippine Elections.”

In 2004, then incumbent candidate Gloria Macapaga-Arroyo was embroiled in the controversial “Hello Garci” scandal which questioned the legitimacy of her presidency. In the now infamous recording of her tapped call to then Commission on Elections (COMELEC) commissioner Virgilio Garciliano, Arroyo was ordering “Garci” to rig the election results so she could gain a million votes ahead of her closest rival, Fernando Poe, Jr.

Arroyo and Marcos are thus both reincarnations of the archetypal Filipino politician: their positions give them unlimited access to funds and unlimited control over the country’s democratic institutions, and they do not think twice to exploit them if it means remaining in power.

In other words, money is used not only to fuel campaigns but to buy actual votes as well. On average, a vote “costs” P1,500” according to 2013 data gathered by the PCIJ. Single votes each cost around P500 in Manila and around P10,000 in some parts of Mindanao. Buying votes, however, cannot guarantee success as the opposing candidate can always offer an even larger amount.

Elections can also turn bloody when patronage money and plundered funds are used to buy arms and maintain private armies. Election-related violence is common, notably, in political hotspots where rivalries are intense. In 2006, Abra Representative Chito Bersamin was shot in the head by his political nemesis, Vicente Valeria.

The Ampatuan Massacre, dubbed as the single most violent election-related incident in the country, took the lives of 58 people in 2009. Among those killed was the wife of then gubernatorial candidate Esmael Mangudadatu.

These families, also among the wealthiest and most powerful in their provinces, are voted into power because of a culture of impunity where justice is merely an idea as elusive as democracy.

Call for action

Political dynasties, however, may also set aside their rivalries and support each other to ensure their survival. For instance, three decades after the People Power Revolution, Santiago picked Bongbong Marcos, son of the ousted dictator, as her running-mate.

On the one hand, wealthy businessmen and landlords like the Cojuangcos and the members of the Makati Business Club routinely collaborate with and finance candidates to form a de facto partnership. Chinese entrepreneurs, on the other hand, are among the most active participants in funding campaign expenses for candidates, according to PCIJ. They are also among the most involved in large-scale smuggling in the country.

In the past, the candidate’s financier directly affects the candidate’s political and economic policies. President Benigno Aquino III, for instance, received almost a quarter of his presidential campaign funds from landlord Tony Boy Cojuangco. Aquino is also an ally of the Ayalas.

Without a doubt, no genuine agrarian reform was achieved during his six-year term in Malacanang. Several public services were privatized and awarded to the Ayalas, like the recently opened Manila-Cavite Expressway.

But despite these gloomy prospects, or perhaps precisely because of these, every election should be seen as a challenge to all Filipinos to exercise their right to vote and their right to be rid of money politics. For there are also progressive candidates who must be given a chance to institute reforms that would provide much-needed relief for the Filipino people. It is our duty to make sure they get a fighting chance.

by Victor Gregor Limon

At the end of every academic year in UP, students stage a lightning rally during the commencement exercises. It has become an annual tradition, largely tolerated by administration officials and government guests even as they sit uncomfortably in their seats, watching a group of students appeal earnestly for UP graduates to rise to the challenge of selfless service to the nation and the people.

Such an urgent appeal is not lost on Adam (not his real name), who plans to study medicine at UP Manila (UPM) after he finishes his undergraduate degree this year. To be admitted to the program, one of the requirements is to sign the Return Service Agreement (RSA), a contract that will require him to complete three years of return service in the Philippines within five years of his graduation.

Adam said he is aware that many opportunities await him abroad when he graduates from the UP College of Medicine (CM), the oldest college in the university and the premier medical school in the country. “But three years seem like a reasonable way to give back to those who paid for my education,” he said in an interview with the Collegian.

Recently, however, the RSA has come under closer scrutiny, after the Board of Regents approved an amendment to the contract that seeks to impose a blanket penalty fee on students who will fail to comply with the RSA. Is the RSA still the best policy to encourage UP health sciences graduates to serve the nation? Or has it in fact become merely a token policy that will further diminish the national university’s service-oriented identity?

Symptoms

Originally formalized in the UPCM in 2009, the RSA has now been implemented in six other health colleges of UPM: Nursing, Dentistry, Pharmacy, Public Health, Allied Medical Profession, and the School of Health Sciences in Palo, Koronadal, and Baler.

The wisdom of the RSA operates under the recognition that UPM is the country’s Health Sciences Center, mandated to lead as a public service university by providing various forms of community, public, and volunteer service, explained UPM Chancellor Carmencita Padilla in an email to the Collegian.

As early as 1975, the World Health Organization has tagged the Philippines as one of the major exporters of health workers in the world. Among Asian countries, the Philippines holds the record for the greatest increase in migration of health professionals, according to a 2011 report by the Asia Pacific Observatory on Health Systems and Policies.

From 1997 to 2008 alone, a total of 3,678 doctors, 128,100 nurses, 2,120 dentists, 1,655 pharmacists, and 2,737 midwives sought employment abroad, mostly to industrialized nations like the United States and Canada, the report revealed.

As a result, there is an average of only one doctor for every 1429 Filipinos as of 2014, according to official figures from the Department of Health (DOH). In rural areas, the ratio is much more dismal, at one doctor for every 33,000 patients, despite the fact that local government units are mandated to spend around 30 percent of their internal revenue allotment for public health care.

Such a bleak situation is aggravated by the K-12 education system and the ASEAN integration, which will further facilitate outward labor migration. As nations in Southeast Asia work towards the so-called internationalization and the liberalization of labor markets, Filipino health professionals will find it increasingly difficult to forego opportunities abroad, while the Philippine healthcare system becomes even more privatized in a bid to be more “competitive” in answering global market demand.

The RSA aims to respond to this situation by requiring UP’s health professionals to render at least two years of required service to the people who are after all direct primary stakeholders in their education and training, said Dr. Gene Nisperos, CM professor and vice chair of the advocacy group Health Alliance for Democracy.

Diagnosis

With the latest changes in the RSA, sections of the UP community are questioning if the policy has remained faithful to its original idea of “service to the people.” For some student leaders, the RSA is becoming a form of commercialization, where return service can be easily foregone by paying a penalty fee, which is equal to double the cost of medical education up to the year level completed.

As of academic year 2014-2015, the total amount of annual tuition and other fees for a CM student ranges from around P20,000 to P50,000, depending on the student’s family income bracket.

Under the amendments approved by the BOR in January, there are no longer any acceptable reasons for pre-terminating the RSA, which means that the penalty is imposed by default on all cases of non-compliance—pending any appeal which will be reviewed on a case-to-case basis.

In January, the UPM University Student Council slammed the amendments to the RSA, saying there was “absolutely no student consultation.” In an email to the Collegian, however, RSA Committee Chair Dr. Melfred Hernandez maintained that all colleges implementing the RSA have consulted all stakeholders through meetings, surveys, and presentations.

For Adam, however, such a policy is suspect in the first place, because it institutionalizes a backdoor, no-questions-asked option for those who would rather pay a penalty fee rather than rendering return service. “Even if I want to practice here in the Philippines where I am needed most, the penalty won’t really reinforce my decision, because my parents could just ‘bail’ me out of the RSA,” he confided.

Militant student groups are quick to warn that the new blanket penalty fee will become an income-generating mechanism that merely attempts to recoup “investments,” rather than addressing the urgent need for UP’s health professionals to serve the nation.

“In a way, UP is trying to maximize the return of its [capital and] somehow [this reduces] students [to] mere investments,” said Mark Girasol, a first year MD-PhD student.

For Dr. Nisperos, the RSA has become a “watered-down” version that has strayed from its priorities. For instance, while graduates covered by the RSA were originally limited to practice in the public sector or in underserved areas, UPM’s health professionals have since been allowed to render service in private hospitals and clinics.

This sentiment is echoed by the UPM CM Student council. “We recognize the fact that medical practice is very metropolis-centric. We have to redistribute doctors to give equal attention and service to all the regions in the Philippines,” said UPM CM SC Chair Mark Jason Milan.

The RSA is, thus, only a stopgap measure to, at least, mitigate the effects of the deeply rooted problems of our healthcare system, said Adrian Sampang, an intern at the Philippine General Hospital and former UPM USC vice chair.

“We need to have improved health care services, create decent local job opportunities, build more hospitals. But how do we actually do these if the budget for health remains low, hospitals are closing down, and the government has resorted to public-private partnership to escape its mandate of providing basic social services?”

Gene Nisperos, vice chair of the Health Alliance for Democracy, argues that the Return Service Agreement was originally meant to address the issue of graduates from UP opting to work abroad instead of serving the country. Under the RSA, incoming freshmen starting in 2011 in health-related colleges in UPM are required to sign the agreement, forcing them to work in the county for a minimum of two years. Kenneth Gutlay

Prescription

The success of a truly nationalist and mass-oriented RSA therefore goes beyond a legally binding contract and deterrent penalties. For the RSA to truly carry out its potential, other interventions have to be made, such as a more perceptive admissions process, a nationalist curriculum, and a needs-based deployment program.

When the RSA was formalized in 2009 in the UPCM and implemented in the other white colleges beginning 2011, there was no simultaneous effort to review and revise the admissions policy. “Dapat mas mahusay na piliin ng UP ang mga estudyanteng tatanggapin nito, upang iyong mga tunay na may kagustuhang maglingkod sa bayan ang mabibigyan ng pagkakataon na makapag-aral,” explained Dr. Nisperos.

Given the finite resources of the university and the number of students dropping out of the medicine program, reforming the admissions policy seems to make sense. Based on figures from the RSA committee, the quit rate is an average of around one to three students per learning unit.

Fighting for a nationalist and service-oriented university’s curriculum is also of the utmost importance, to shape students into future health professionals that will heed the call to serve the nation. Threatening the achievement of such an objective is the proposed reform to the General Education Program (GEP), which has been approved in all UP units except Diliman, where fierce opposition from faculty and students prevent its implementation.

The proposed reform to the GEP seeks to reduce the number of GE units from the current to 45 units to as low as 21 units, a clear bias for specialization over a liberal, more holistic education. In a statement by the Congress of Teachers/Educators for Nationalism and Democracy, UP professors slammed the proposed reform, saying UP’s GEP must be nationalist and firmly grounded in the interests of the Filipino people.

Finally, the RSA can only be strengthened if the government will also ensure that employment here at home meets both the personal and professional needs of our health professionals. “Sa madaling salita, para asahan ng gobyerno na manatili at magsilbi rito ang mga graduate ng UP, dapat ay may disenteng trabaho na may disenteng sahod na naghihintay sa kanila,” said Dr. Nisperos.

For students like Adrian and professors like Dr. Nisperos, the aspiration is for the day to come when the RSA becomes an obsolete piece of paper and UP’s Iskolar ng Bayan would willingly and selflessly choose to serve the nation and the Filipino people.

When Adrian graduates, he plans to serve his return service as a doctor in an underserved community or perhaps work at a public hospital. “I’d love to see the day when we no longer need a piece of paper to ensure we give back because every graduate is instinctively, unequivocally, and voluntarily geared towards the betterment of this nation’s health and society in general.”

Adrian Sampang, a student at the University of the Philippines Manila, says he’s going to enter the Doctors to the Barrios program after graduating. Under the Return Service Agreement, students from health-related colleges in UPM are required to work with the country for at least two years, depending on the program entered, or pay double the amount of the tuition fee. Kenneth Gutlay

Illustration by John Kenneth Zapata

by Sanny Boy Afable

Sa sulsol ng ahas, kakainin ni Eba’t Adan ang ipinagbabawal na mansanas. Magiging matandang palaboy ang ahas at iaalok niya ang prutas kay Snow White.  Babagsak ang mansanas mula sa kanyang palad at pag-aagawan ito nina Aphrodite, Hera, at Athena. Ngunit nanakawin ito ni Mario para sa kanyang anak na maysakit at matatanggal siya sa trabaho.

Magsasara ang tabing. Tatangayin ang mansanas ng panahon papunta sa baybayin ng California. Gugulong ito sa pagitan ng nagkikiskisang mga sasakyan ng siyudad. Para bang itinadhana itong pulutin ni Steve Jobs. Sa isang iglap, ang buong daigdig ay maaakit, matatakam, at magugumon sa isang mansanas.

Alamat

Hitik ang kasaysayan at panitikan sa mayamang mito ng mansanas. Ayon sa kritikong si Roland Barthes, ang mito ay hindi lamang isang anyo ng kwento kundi isang “mensahe.” May kapangyarihan ang mito, at kapangyarihan din ang nagluluwal sa mito.

Noon pa ma’y simbolo na ng temptasyon ang mansanas. Sa Bibliya, nanunukso ang pulang kislap ng prutas na karaniwang inilalarawan bilang mansanas: ako ay inyong tikman. Sa galit ng Diyos, pinalayas niya ang unang babae’t lalaking sumuway sa kanyang utos—ang una sa marami pang sumunod na kasalanan ng tao. Sa mitolohiyang Griyego, premyo ang mansanas sa pinakamagandang diyosa, Sinong makapag-aakalang mauuwi ito sa Digmaang Trojan?

Hanggang sa kasulukyan nagpapatuloy ang mito ng mansanas: nakatatakam ngunit makasalanan, simbolo ng kagandahan ngunit simbolo rin ng giyera. Mula sa mga alamat at kwentong-bata, ang mansanas ay naging pangalan, kapital, at simbolo ng paghahari ng kumpanyang Apple. Mapanganib pa rin ang tukso ng makabagong anyo ng mansanas, at ang pag-asam dito ay pagpasok sa isang paligsahan ng salapi.

Sa Pilipinas, may ‘di-pangkaraniwang hiwaga ang mansanas at produktong Apple. Hanggang ngayon, itinuturing ng maraming Pilipino na luho ang mansanas na nanatiling simbolo ng Amerika, ng wikang Ingles, ng karangyaan. Sa maikling dulang “The World Is An Apple” ni Alberto Florentino noong 1954, mansanas ang dahilan ng pagkakatanggal ng tauhang si Mario mula sa kaniyang trabaho, matapos siyang mahuling nagnakaw ng mansanas—isang luho kahit na para sa anak na may sakit.

Sa gitna ng kawalan ng pambansang industriya sa Pilipinas, pribatisadong mga serbisyong panlipunan, mababang pasahod at kahirapan, panandaliang ligaya at ilusyon ang hatid ng imported na luhong mansanas kay Mario, at produktong Apple sa neokolonyang tulad ng Pilipinas.

Panganib

Mula Eden, naging tukso ang mansanas sa mundong pinaiikot ng teknolohiya. Gumugulong sa merkado ang Apple bilang nangungunang information technology company sa daigdig. Nagtala ang Apple ng $180 bilyong na kita noong 2015, higit na malaki kaysa kita ng Microsoft na pumangalawa lamang sa halagang $90 bilyon. Samantala, aabot sa 700 milyong iPhones na ang naibenta sa buong mundo mula nang unang ilabas ito noong 2007, higit na sa kalahati ng kabuuang bilang ng yunit ng teleponong naibenta ng Nokia.

Pinakabago sa inilalako ngayon ng Apple ang iPhone SE, maliban sa mga bagong henerasyon ng iPad, iPod, at Mac. Pero halos walang pinagkaiba ang SE at ang sinundan nitong 6 Plus: magkasingbilis ang mga processor at 12 megapixel pa rin ang kamera.

Ginagawang luma ng Apple ang mga dating produkto at lumilikha ng bagong uso. Tulad ng maraming kompanya, iskema ng Apple ang tinatawag na planned obsolescence, o ang patuloy na pag-“reinvent” sa imahe at mismong produkto nito para sa patuloy na pagkonsumo at kita. Halimbawa, ang mga lumang modelo ng mga produkto ng Apple ay kailangan nang palitan dahil hindi na maaaring makatanggap ang mga ito ng software updates. Sa katunayan, ito rin ang kalakaran ng iba pang mga kumpanyang tech, gaya ng Microsoft, Sony, at Samsung.

Ayon kay Jobs, simple’t magaan ang dating ng salitang “Apple,” tulad ng mga produktong ipinagmamalaki nito na simple, elegante at nakahihigit sa iba. Superlatibo ang paglalarawan sa produkto nito—revolutionary, cutting edge, most exciting, most interesting, most amazing—kaya hindi kataka-takang napakamahal ng presyo ng mga ito sa pamilihan.

Karaniwang nagkakahalaga ang iPhone ng halos $600 o P27,000, malayo sa tinatayang $200 o P9,000 na gastos sa produksyon nito. Malayo rin ang presyo ng iPhone sa halos $250 o P11,000 na karaniwang presyo ng ka-kompetisyon nitong mga Android phones. Malaki ang epekto ng presyo ng iPhone sa pagpapaigting sa mitong ang Apple ay tatak ng kakayahang patuloy na bumili ng produkto—at unti-unti’y pagpasok niya sa panaginip ng mas nakaaangat na uring panlipunan.

Palayo sa Eden

Walang ideya ang ngayo’y nahihimbing na si Snow White na siya’y malalason ng isang mansanas. Tulad nito, mapanganib ang mitipikasyong nililikha ng Apple dahil inilalayo nito ang produkto sa produksyon nito, binabalutan nito ng kislap ang dugo’t pawis ng mga manggagawang lumikha nito.

Lumikha ng ingay ang Apple noong mga nagdaang taon dahil sa balita ng pananamantalang nararanasan ng mga manggagawa ng pinakamalaki nitong supplier sa Tsina. Taliwas sa itinatanghal na imahe ng Apple ang labindalawang oras ng pagtatrabaho at mababang sahod ng mga manggagawa ng Foxconn Technology Group. Pumutok ang balita noong 2010 nang labing-walong manggagawa ng Foxconn ang nagtangka magpakamatay. Labing-apat sa kanila ang binawian ng buhay.

Sa ulat naman ng Amnesty International, bigo ang Apple sa pagtitiyak na walang menor de edad na nagtatrabaho sa mga minahan ng cobalt sa Congo. Mahalagang parte ang cobalt ng mga Lithium-ion battery sa iPhone. Sa kabila ng ipinagmamalaking $50 bilyon na kita ng Apple noong 2015, tinataya ng United Nations Children’s Emergency Fund (UNICEF) na 40,000 ng mga manggagawa sa minahan ng Congo ay wala pa sa legal na edad.

Samantala, habang patuloy ang proseso ng pagkamal ng murang lakas-paggawa, lalong tumitindi ang alienation: balintunang mismong manggagawa ng Foxconn o ng sa Congo ay hindi makabili ng mga iPad at iPhone na kanilang binubuo.

Hindi na kataka-takang naghahanap ang Apple ng ibang “teritoryo” tulad ng Tsina upang palakasin ang produksyon at merkado nito. Ayon sa iskolar na si David Harvey, spatial fix ang tawag dito—bilang tugon sa krisis ng labis na kita at labis na produksyon, naghahanap lamang ang kapitalismo ng bagong mga lupaing paglalagakan ng kapital at muling paghuhuthutan ng bagong kita.

Ngunit bilang likhang puno ng nagpatung-patong na mitolohiya, ang Apple ay nakasisilaw na hiwaga sa kabila ng maraming batikos. Ayon sa kritikong si Jean Baudrillard sa kanyang Consumer Society, ang patuloy na pagkonsumo ay anyo ng “moral demonstration”—ang paghahangad na makamit din ang pribilehiyo’t “kaligtasan” ng mga nasa itaas, sa kabila ng tumitinding kontradiksyon sa lipunan. Kalakip nito ang pagsabay sa uso at paglikha ng komoditi mula rito, habang ang totoong merkado ay ang walang humpay na paghahangad.

Walang tuktok ang tore ng paghahangad. Kay Baudrillard, ang “selective innovation” at “re-invention” tulad ng “planned obsolescence” ng Apple ay nililikha ng naghaharing-uri upang mapanatili ang kanilang distansya mula sa masang naghahangad ng kanilang posisyon. Halimbawa, habang nagiging pangkaraniwan ang SE, lilikha naman ang Apple ng bagong uso. Pilit itong aabutin, at patuloy lang ang proseso ng paglikha’t paghahangad para sa lumalaking kita ng Apple. Dagdag na baitang ang bawat iPhone sa walang katapusang pagnanais ng marami na umakyat sa lipunan.

Pero para sa hanay ng mas nakararaming manggagawa sa daigdig, isang hungkag na pangarap ang pasukin at akyatin ang tore ng paghahangad. Sa “The World is an Apple,” ang tangis ni Mario at ng marami pang tulad niya: “Nilikha ba ng Diyos ang puno ng mansanas para mamunga lang sa may kakayahang bumili nito?”

*Paumanhin kay Alberto Florentino

Illustration by Joshua Rioja

by Andrea Joyce Lucas

Like the cells that confine the political detainees at the Bureau of Jail Management and Penology in Camp Bagong Diwa, this page is not enough space for their spirit and their stories.

These were people who had suffered much even before they ever set foot in Camp Bagong Diwa. Most of them have been tortured and harshly interrogated before they were jailed—through electrocution, being beaten up, kicked, punched. They entered prison with bruises, broken bones, wounds.

For organizing the marginalized and the oppressed and taking their cause to the streets and the countryside, they now sit behind bars for trumped up charges, while government crooks are allowed house arrests and criminals in Bilibid enjoyed luxuries.

In January 8 of this year, a political detainee at Camp Bagong Diwa, Ka Eduardo Serrano, died just before he was supposed to be released from prison. Two of his charges had already been dropped by then, and the courts were deciding in favor of his release. But he died of heart complications after spending more than a decade in jail. On the other hand, Juan Ponce Enrile was granted bail, on account of his “advanced age.” He was charged with plunder.

Behind bars

Among the prisoners we met was Ka Alex Virondo. Charged with illegal possession of firearms and explosives, he was arrested in Quezon City along with five other men. They were dubbed the “Quezon City 6.”

When asked about his age, Ka Alex laughed and dismissed the question, saying he was still young. It has become a running joke among the detainees to say they were younger than they really were. Ka Alex did look spry and young, the only contradiction was his graying hair. It was clear that, even in jail, he refused to be beaten down, but as we talked to him more, we realized there was more to his easy smiles.

It turns out Ka Alex was not as healthy as we thought he looked. Before his arrest, he was already taking various medications for diabetes, and as he bided his time in prison he had to keep a stash of his maintenance pills. The food in jail also did him no good. The inmates used to get fresh ingredients so they could cook their own food, but nowadays they only get rations of cooked food. The rations often do not agree with Ka Alex, who always has to watch his diet.

The inmates suspect the jail switched to rations because it was more profitable. As we sat down together to have lunch that day, we shared the inmates’ ration, which was ginataang kalabasa, and the pakbet which we had brought.  A good hard look at the food ration reveals the obvious: this is not a meal equal to the P50 allocation per prisoner in a national jail facility. But the inmates were happy enough to share what they had, even complimenting the ration, because the squash did not seem to be overcooked this time.

Political detainees like Ka Alex have been through worse times, as there were times before when jail officials forcibly searched their cells for contraband materials, like illegal drugs. During these visits to their cells, the jail officials would trample all over their cells with dirty boots and spoil even their stock of food with gloves already used to handle garbage.

Ka Alex and the other detainees refused to suffer in silence and confronted the jail officials. The detainees asserted their rights, and this was a struggle they won. Another political detainee, Ka Adel Silva, explains, “Hindi [kami] madidisorient kahit na [nakakulong kami].”  Besides resisting the forced searches, they have triumphed in other causes too, including the abolition of the strict policies for visitors of political prisoners. Before they fought for this, their visitors were required to strip down as jail officials searched them for contrabands, like drugs.

Still, life in prison could be lonely for detainees like Ka Alex. Most of his relatives, including his sister, only visited him during hearings. But Ka Alex has no regrets. When he walks out of prison one day, he would continue to criticize the government, until he sees the day when his country becomes truly free.

Freedom through art

The detainees in Camp Bagong Diwa triumphed not only in their struggles for their rights inside prisons. Through art, they also succeeded in expressing their criticism of social issues and messages of encouragement to their comrades outside. The prison cells they were in may be too small, but being confined in them did not cramp their art.

For Ka Alex, it was poetry. “Ang dating hindi manunulat, natutong gumawa ng tula,” he said. Writing came to him naturally after all the troubles he had been through in prison, he explained. This was where he found an avenue for his beliefs and experiences.

The resident painter among the detainees is Voltaire Guray, whom other detainees call Ka Volts. He painted indigenous symbols and social realities, and he often incorporated anti-war themes and sentiments in his work. When his family and friends come to visit him, they would bring him paints and canvasses to work on. As he showed us a batch of his paintings, he shared that the latest artworks he is working on were about the Lumad people.

Like Ka Alex, Kuya Volts learned much of what he knows about painting as he spent time behind bars, but since then he has been able to share his talents with others, from his fellow inmates to people outside prison, through cultural nights and art exhibitions for political prisoners.

For the prisoners, the fight goes on even behind bars—so long as they do not lose hope. As we prepared to go home that day, the detainees gave us the gift of a parting song. It was composed by Ka Ruben Rupido, but the other detainees knew all the words by heart. The cell echoed with their voices in chorus:“Tuluy-tuloy sa paggawa, tuluy-tuloy sa paglikha, tuluy-tuloy sa pakikibaka hanggang sa ganap na paglaya.”

Illustration by Joshua Rioja

by Andrea Joyce Lucas

The College of Engineering and the College of Social Sciences and Philosophy stand across each other along the Academic Oval, like two pieces of a matched set. It is as if their symmetry suggests the equal importance of the sciences and the humanities to UP.

The General Education (GE) program stands testament to this, the core of UP’s liberal education. Ever since its establishment in 1958 by then UP President Vicente Sinco, the GE was expected to become a unifying element that would maintain UP’s sense of nationalism and service to the community.

But now everything that the GE program stands for is in jeopardy, as reforms to the GE program have rapidly gained ground in UP, with all campuses but UP Diliman adopting the administration’s proposed GE reforms. Once implemented, the reforms would reduce the current number of required GE courses to a minimum of 21 units.

The GE reforms promised to strengthen research in keeping with the demand for a “globally competitive” tertiary education. For all its promises of so-called “progress,” and like all changes in the university brought about by an obsession with “internationalization,” it looks like these reforms come with a very dear price.

A case of identity

Under the current GE program, UP students are required to take 45 units of GE courses, of which up to 9 units are prescribed, while the remaining slots are free choice. GE courses fall under three domains: the arts and humanities (AH), social sciences and philosophy (SSP), and math, science and technology (MST). The program was designed to broaden the students’ intellectual horizons, balance nationalism and internationalism and integrate knowledge and skills through an interdisciplinary approach.

The implementation of the GE program in 1958 marked the beginning of the GE program’s long history. The first Filipino UP President, Rafael Palma, made academic freedom the highlight of his term, encouraging discussions about issues pertinent to the country. His successor, Jorge Bocobo, further entrenched nationalist ideals through promoting culture. Even as UP was increasing required academic units in its curricula, the university sought to establish a liberal identity. When President Sinco first implemented the GE program, it stood by the same principles and advocated for the humanization of UP’s brand of education.

But the GE program has never been perfect and the university’s most progressive faculty responded to challenges of keeping UP education relevant and empowering. Undergoing several changes throughout the years, the GE program came to represent the soul of UP—shaping awareness and fostering critical thinking about the issues within and outside the university.

As early as the Martial Law years, UP students began taking courses such as PI 100, The Life and Works of Jose Rizal. Some course offerings at this time also adopted Filipino as the medium of instruction. The GE program became a means to unite the constituent units of UP. There was a need to reaffirm UP’s liberal orientation and bounce back from fascist interventions and the chilling effect of the Marcos dictatorship.

Contradictions

The GE reforms however now present an absurd proposal—to trim down the number of GE subjects to internationalize and rationalize education, as opposed to UP education’s current and more liberal slant.

The establishment of a GE program in the university rests on the idea of holistic learning. Its framework was designed in such a way that the intellect is disciplined for its own sake and for its own highest culture, which is how John Henry Cardinal Newman, author of “The Idea of a University,” defines what university life should be like. A university student should not be confined merely to his chosen field.

In the case of UP, this means the iskolar ng bayan must look beyond personal gain or professional development and develop a sense of obligation to serve the nation. “[GE] cannot be detached from our local struggle and national aspirations as a people,” explained Congress of Teachers/Educators for Nationalism and Democracy (CONTEND) in a statement.

However, the trend to specialize has arisen because of the demands of globalization. In order to be competitive workers, professionals must forego holistic development and trade that for the acquisition of more marketable skills that are useful in the assembly lines of the global supply chain. After having achieved such a level of skill, professionals have little choice but be drawn into the global market and the multinational big businesses that run it.

Taking charge

The proposed GE reforms are not the only manifestation of the crisis in education caused by the demand to specialize and go global. This problem is also manifested in other issues, such as the K to 12 program. Militant youth groups such as Anakbayan and the League of Filipino Students have criticized the new educational system as a neoliberal mechanism to pander to the global labor market. “Higit na iniaayon ng mga ito ang edukasyon sa imperyalstang globalisasyon at dayuhang kapital,” the group said in a statement.

This is where a nationalist GE program could have made a difference. “[The] GE is myopically revisioned [by the proposed reforms] as a burden to be endured by students in their quest for a diploma. [But] in the University’s history, GE has proven itself as the only opportunity for all students to acquire the furniture of the mind,” explained CONTEND. Instead of being slaves to the demands of globalization, a well-oriented GE program could steer students into becoming professionals who will choose to heed the call to serve the nation.

“The ontological foundations of the GE curriculum [should not be just a] diploma mill, but training grounds for the next leaders of the country and henceforth the world. We are not creating robots that will only fall short to the hands of the market but Iskolars who will change the world,” said the UP Diliman University Student Council in a statement.

(Unang nalimbag ang akdang ito sa isyu 17 ng Philippine Collegian noong 26 Hunyo 2016)

ni SB D. Afable

Hindi pa man pormal na nakakaupo sa puwesto, bantay-sarado na ang bawat galaw ng susunod na pangulo ng Pilipinas. Mainam ang ganitong mahigpit at maagap na pagmamatyag, lalo’t pambihira ang mga kontradiksyong kailangang lutasin ni Mayor Rodrigo Duterte, at malaki ang pagbabagong inaasahan ng taumbayan matapos ang anim na taong panunungkulan ni Noynoy Aquino.

Kamakailan lang, umani ng batikos si Duterte dahil sa kanyang walang paumanhing pambabastos sa kababaihan. Malinaw na nagkamali ang alkalde ng Davao: hindi magandang biro ang pagsipol sa isang babaeng reporter at lalong hindi wasto ang magbiro tungkol sa panghahalay at pagpaslang sa isang Australyanang misyonaryo.

Ngunit hindi madaling basta na lamang sabihing wala nang maaasahan pang respeto sa kababaihan mula kay Digong. Noong panahong malinaw nang siya ang magiging susunod na pangulo, sa puntod ng kanyang ina dumulog si Duterte, humahagulgol at humihingi ng tulong para sa napakalaking tungkuling kailangan niyang gampanan. Siya rin ang kauna-unahang alkalde sa bansa na nagpatupad ng isang women’s code.

Kailangan nang magpasya ng susunod na pangulo kung anong Digong ang magiging susunod na lider ng bansa. Ngayon pa lamang, kailangan na niyang tumindig laban sa patuloy na opresyon sa mga kababaihan. Sa katunayan, patuloy ngayon ang mga protesta sa napipintong pribatisasyon sa Dr. Jose Fabella Memorial Hospital, na 65 taon nang nagsisilbi sa mga maralitang ina at sanggol.

Paano ba huhulagpos ang susunod na Pangulo mula sa kaniyang personal na kontradiksyon upang labanan ang iba’t ibang anyo ng pang-aapi sa mga kababaihan?

Dibuho ni Guia Abogado

‘Paanakan ng bayan’

Binansagang “paanakan ng bayan,” malaking tulong ang Fabella sa sa libu-libong mga ina, kababaihan, at sanggol na umaasa sa mura at de-kalidad nitong serbisyo nito. Noong 2014, humigit kumulang 20,000 bata ang ipinanganak dito, o humigit-kumulang limampu’t limang bagong buhay kada araw. Bagamat dapat ay libre, nagagawa nang magtiis dito ng mga ina sa isang libong pisong gastos sa panganganak, kumpara sa 60 beses na mas malaking singil sa mga pribadong paanakan.

Pero sasambulat sa mga inang isinusugod sa ospital ang pagsisiksikan sa loob ng pasilidad. Larawan ang Fabella ng dalawang inang naghahati sa iisang kama, kaya’t naging laman din ito ng popular at mala-teleseryeng kuwento ng pagpapalit ng mga sanggol.

Kung hindi man makaagapay ang Fabella sa laki ng tungkulin nito, walang ibang dapat sisihin kundi ang pamahalaan. Noong 2011, 2013 at 2015, walang inilaang badyet ang gobyerno para sa capital outlay (CO) na maaari sanang gamitin para sa mas maayos na pasilidad at mas matibay na istruktura ng ospital. Kinuwestiyon naman ng Alliance of Health Workers (AHW) ang biglang pagtaas ng CO sa P840 milyon noong 2014, na alinsabay sa bidding ng planong proyekto sa lupang kinatatayuan ng Fabella.

Hindi rin naniniwala ang AHW na ang lumang istruktura ng ospital ang tunay na dahilan upang agad na ipasara ang Fabella at ilipat ito sa bagong gusaling itinatayo sa DOH Compound na inaasahang sa 2017 pa matatapos. Itinuturo ng grupo bilang dahilan ang planong komersyalisasyon ng Home Guaranty Corporation (HGC), isang korporasyong pagmamay-ari ng gobyerno, sa Old Bilibid Compound na kinatatayuan ng Fabella.

Kaya’t nagpapaigting sa kontradiksyon ng Pangulong halal ang positibong pagtugon niya sa sama-samang panawagan ng mga kababaihan, residente at manggagawang bumuo ng piket sa harap ng Fabella, nang sabihin niyang hindi matutuloy ang pagpapasara sa pambansang paanakan sa ilalim ng kaniyang termino. Dati ring pinangako ni Digong sa kanyang kampanya ang pagkakaroon ng libreng pasilidad sa lahat ng ospital sa bansa—pampubliko o pribado—para sa pinakamahihirap na pasiyente.

Pananamantala ng estado

Salungat ang planong ito ng bagong Pangulo sa umiiral na organisado, sistematiko at lehitimisadong pagbabalewala ng gobyerno sa karapatan ng mga kababaihan sa kalusugan.

Sa ilalim ng administrasyong Aquino, naging iskema ng Public-Private Partnership (PPP) ang pagsasapribado sa mga pampublikong serbisyo tulad ng mga pagamutan, kabilang ang Fabella. Hindi naman nakapagtataka ang interes ng iilan na gawing negosyo ang sistemang pangkalusugan ng bansa. Sa tala ng Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) noong 2013, 18.9 porsyento lamang ang ambag ng pamahalaan sa kabuuang P526.3 bilyon na health expenditure ng bansa, habang ang malaking bahagi nito, sa 56.3 porsyento o 296 milyon, ay mula sa bulsa ng ordinaryong mamamayan—malayo sa 45 porsyentong target ng Department of Health (DOH).

Ang umiiral ding labor export policy ng bansa ay pananamantala ng neoliberalismo sa mga kababaihan at mga manggagawa. Noong 2015, mahigit 51 porsyento ng mga migranteng manggagawa, o 1.2 milyon ay mga kababaihan. Mas maraming babae rin edad 15-34 ang nasasalyang magtrabaho sa ibayong dagat—sa kabila ng mga posibleng panganib.

Sa ilalim pa rin ng kasalukuyang administrasyon, babae ang karamihan sa mga nasawi sa mga nasunog na pabrika—Kentex noong 2015, Asia Micro Tech noong 2014, at Novo Jeans noong 2012, ayon sa Kilusang Mayo Uno (KMU). Sa mga kasong hinawakan ng Migrante International noong 2013, 138 sa 174 na mga inabusong OFW ay babae. Nang nagdaang taon lamang, naging salamin ng mga pang-aabusong ito ang napigilang pagbitay kay Mary Jane Veloso sa Indonesia.

Patuloy din ang malakas na panawagan upang palayain ang mga kababaihang bilanggong pulitikal sa ilalim ng Oplan Bayanihan ng rehimeng Aquino. Ayon sa grupong Karapatan, 43 sa 491 na bilanggong pulitikal ay mga babae at humaharap sa patung-patong na alegasyon ng militar, 18 sa kanila ay walang-awang pinaslang.

Malinaw sa mga numerong ito kung paano pinananatili at pinakikinabangan ng naghaharing interes ang subordinasyon ng mga kababaihan sa mapang-aping sistema.

“Sa bansang tulad ng Pilipinas na ang ekonomiya ay sinukuban ng pagpasok ng isang abanteng kapitalistang bansang tulad ng Estados Unidos, ang kolonyal na patakaran sa ekonomya at ang nangibabaw na pananaw sa kababaihan ang magtatakda sa posibilidad at limitasyon ng paglahok ng mga kababaihan sa gawaing produktibo o may kabayaran,” ani Propesor Judy Taguiwalo, dating rehente ng kaguruan sa UP at direkto ng UP Center for Women’s and Gender Studies, at susunod ng Kalihim ng Department of Social Work and Development:

Kontradiksyon

Hindi maipagkakailang kaakibat ng naging paninipol ng pangulo ang nananatiling objektifikasyon at mababang pagtingin sa mga kababaihan—ang “nangingibaw na pananaw sa kababaihan”—sa isang patriarkal at paurong na lipunan. Sintomatik nito ang pagdedepensa ni Digong sa kaniyang inasal bilang ‘freedom of expression.’

Anupa’t ang personal na kontradiksyon ng bagong Pangulo ay sumasalamin din at hindi dapat ihiwalay sa mas malaking tunggalian sa lipunan, kung saan aktibong iginigiit ng mga kababaihan ang kanilang boses at karapatan.

Tinukoy ni C.W. Mills sa kaniyang aklat na Sociological Imagination (1959) na mahalagang suriin ang mga personal o pribadong suliranin (private troubles) sa konteksto ng mas malaking isyung panlipunan (public issues). Ito ang naging inspirasyon, ayon sa ilang akda, upang mabuo ang tanyag na slogan ng mga lider-kabataan at feminista ng dekada ’60: ang personal ay politikal.

Ito mismo ang hamon kay Digong: ang resolbahin ang kaniyang personal na kontradiksyon sa konteksto ng umiiral na opresyon sa mga kababaihan, at sa kaniyang kapasyahang ito, maging kakampi ng sambayanan sa pagsulong ng  alternatibo sa umiiral na sistemang matagal nang malupit sa mga kababaihan.

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Larawan mula sa koleksyon ni Prop. Dante Ambrosio

“He who does not forgive does not forget, but he who does not forget often forgives.” – Madres de Plaza de Mayo

by Alaysa Tagumpay E. Escandor

The autopsy report read six wounds shot at close range. Two bullets while he was standing up. Two bullets while falling to the ground. One bullet to the right leg as he lay bleeding. One bullet to the head. Cause of death: cranio-cerebral injury.

This was how my granduncle, Dr. Juan “Johnny” Escandor, died.

It was year 1983, eleven years since the proclamation of Martial Law, Dr. Johnny, aka Ka Mapalad, was in Manila, the belly of the beast, and doing his best to go undetected. His position in the movement’s Provisional Action Committee required frequent excursions to the city to clinch crucial provisions for the men and women of the Cagayan Valley Armed Command, at the time one of the best performing guerilla forces at war, not just against the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos, but also over timber, minerals, lakes, land, and rivers. Over the very soul of the country.

Dr. Johnny’s missions, however, were becoming increasingly dangerous as the military swelled from 60,000 in 1972 to more than 200,000 by 1983. But the people’s resistance continued as details of Ferdinand Marcos’ plunder began to emerge: first, from foreign economic assistance; second, from Philcag and other discretionary funds; and third, kickbacks from public works contracts.

While Marcos’ offshore accounts grew, the Philippine economy deteriorated under the weight of a US$26 billion debt. Refusing to relinquish power, Marcos increasingly relied on the police and military to keep his position secure.

And so, people continued to be disappeared, detained, or left dead. The terms “salvaging” and “safehouses” took on an ominous tone. By 1983, impunity – the enduring hallmark of Martial Law – reigned from the city center to the outskirts with a force approaching madness.

Dr. Johnny, rebel doctor and founder of Kabataang Makabayan, would not make it back to Cagayan Valley on the night of the 30^th of March. The good doctor was sought, sniffed out, spotted and seized. Viciously. Impunity exacted its due with the crazed vengeance of a predator eager to punish the prey after eleven years of being eluded. An eye gouged, bones broken, guts emptied, skull smashed then stuffed with plastic scraps. Cause of death: cranio-cerebral injury. The price to pay for waging a war for the soul of the country.

A war that did not stop with 34,000 tortures, 2,520 salvages, and 737 disappearances.

Memory and Justice

A generation has passed, but there has been no show of remorse from the Marcoses. On the contrary, the Marcoses are back in power, with Ferdinand “Bongbong” Jr. inching closer than ever to take back Malacañan. There has been no compensation either despite the US Supreme Court’s conviction of Marcos for human rights violations.

When President-elect Rodrigo Duterte asked, “It’s just a matter of distributing the award. So anong problema?” he wrongly assumes two things. First, that the enormity of work that went into rebuilding lives out of the ravages of Martial Law can truly be compensated. And second, that the victims and families are lusting over monetary compensation, when actually it is the symbolic and historical victory that we are after. A victory that is as much ours as it is the country’s. A victory that, until now, wanes more than it waxes. A victory that is still being negotiated.

Not long after the toppling of the Marcoses, the calls were, first, “never forget” and second, “never again”. That is, to draw on the power of memory (“never forget”) so that history will not repeat itself (“never again”). The two calls have always been connected, with the first serving the second. Remembrance was in service of justice, and was not a goal on its own.

The urgent task for countries emerging from their violent past was to cultivate a “memoria fertile” (fertile memory), to borrow a phrase from the Madres de Plaza de Mayo, the mothers of desaparecidos in Argentina. Memoria fertile is a memory that feeds the thirst and hunger for justice.

To forget, therefore, is another variety of impunity. To forget is to abandon justice.

Still at War

Our failure as a people to cultivate that “memoria fertile” is the reason why we see so much of our history being repeated. We have failed to “never forget”. And by that failing, we have not accomplished “never again”. This is why, decades after Martial Law, we are still dealing with the consequences of the past.

The past persists in the murder of Labor leader Rolando “Ka Lando” Olalia. The killing of celebrated activist Lean Alejandro. Ironic that the underground movement’s leaders – the backbone of resistance to Martial Law – were left out of the “new democracy” under Cory Aquino and became targets of assassination.

The past persists in the disappearance of Karen Empeño and Sherlyn Cadapan. The vanishing of Jonas Burgos. The regular occurrence of extrajudicial killings, enforced disappearances and torture.

The past persists in the looting of national coffers. The abuse of foreign economic assistance, the plunder of discretionary funds, and kickbacks from public works contracts.

The past persists in the displacement of the Lumad of Mindanao. The hunger in the bellies of farmers. The continuing war over timber, minerals, lakes, land and rivers. The activists who pay with their lives for waging a war for the soul of the country. In the impunity that still reigns.

The war that Dr. Johnny fought is still with us today. It lives on in our everyday violence.

The task at hand

It is alarming to me that the rhetoric of forgetting is everywhere. Recently, Duterte said, “I will allow the burial of Ferdinand Marcos in Libingan ng mga Bayani because he was a great president and he was a hero.” And then, Sen Bongbong Marcos, “I think it will bring closure not only to my family but to the rest of the country.”

To sustain the position of remembering can be a painstaking task, especially when powers-that-be peddle forgetting as a solution to our national woes. And yet, we cannot leave the task of remembering only to the victims and their families, not only because it is untenable, but also because it rests upon the mistaken notion that Martial Law ravaged only a limited number of people, when in fact it was the entire country that suffered.

In the eve of this new administration, we must decide now, as a people, whether we continue with our forgetting, or do we, at long last, foster and fortify a “memoria fertile”.

My grandmother, who will be 85 this year, sometimes muses how long the wait has been for victory. Indeed, there are days when the wait seems to have congealed so firmly that we’ve forgotten, little by little, that we are actually waiting. Waiting comes with the expectation of a new future. But in this country where past is not past, there can be no new future.

The idea that the past belongs to the past, that the present has been redeemed, and that the future is new, is an illusion. A premature verdict on an unfinished war that still rages. An immature conclusion on a phase of history that still unfolds.

The post The Persistence of Past appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

Illustration by Patricia Ramos (Originally published in Vol. 92, Issue 23 of the Collegian)

by Alaysa Tagumpay E. Escandor

Luis is a 4th year BA Anthropology student in University of the Philippines (UP) Mindanao. Compared to other universities in the region, tuition here is relatively cheap. For a six-member family who barely has enough to eat, however, the cheapest tuition can still be expensive.

To earn enough for his tuition, Luis divides his weekdays between school and work. His weekends are equally occupied with repairing fixtures for P40 per item.

Fortunately, with enough money earned from odd jobs and the Socialized Tuition Fee Assistance Program (STFAP), Luis was able to make it to his senior year. It took months, however, before his STFAP application was approved during his freshman year. All kinds of documents were required; properties and appliances were crosschecked (see sidebar). But, he quips, “it’s better than nothing.”

Steep expense
With an annual family income of a little over P138,000 or P383 per day, Luis qualifies under bracket 6 of the STFAP and receives a 75 percent tuition discount. In this bracket, however, miscellaneous fees, laboratory fees and book allowances are no longer covered. During enrollment, payments can reach more than P1,000 – which, for Luis, entails more scrimping.

When news of the tuition fee hike and STFAP re-bracketing reached Luis, he felt alarmed. Under the new STFAP, brackets will be reduced from nine to only five (see sidebar). If the new system were applied to Luis, he would fall to Bracket C, where recipients will get only a 40 percent discount on the base tuition fee. Using the P600 proposed base for UP Mindanao, tuition expenses would reach P6,480 for 18 units sans the miscellaneous and laboratory fees – an amount beyond Luis’ meager earnings.

Yearly, students have to contend with scant resources and rising prices. Like Luis, they will turn to education as a way to fight their own poverty, only to find that it too has been snatched away from their reach.

The first yoke
The tuition and other fees increase (TOFI) trend in UP began in 1983, at the height of former president Marcos’ unpopularity. To ensure his hold on power, Marcos channeled the greatest part of the national budget to the military. Social services, such as health and education, had to take drastic budget cuts. To compensate for the loss of government subsidy, UP was compelled to generate its own funds through income-generating projects. Thus, former UP President Edgardo Angara pushed for a 169 percent tuition increase.

Before Angara’s imposition, UP tuition hikes were virtually unheard of, especially one as exorbitant as this. Angara’s move spurred widespread protests throughout the studentry prompting the administration to compromise: the 169 percent increase was diffused through four semesters and a 15 percent increase for every succeeding semester.

This trend continued until the Aquino Administration, concurrent with the International Monetary Fund (IMF) imposition on channeling the bulk of the national budget to debt servicing. Like Angara, former UP President Jose Abueva faced perennial budget cuts. Instead of asserting greater state subsidy, however, Abueva proposed another tuition increase.

Consequently, the Students’ Coalition Against the Rising Cost of Education, a militant student organization, led protests to oppose the increase. Amidst all these, the Socialized Tuition Fee Scheme (STFS), the precursor of the STFAP, was first introduced as a possible alternative to the proposed tuition increase. The STFS sought an end to tuition hikes, as drafted by UP Kaakbay and The Coalition for the Advancement of a University Socialized Education, a faculty and student formation, respectively. The students and faculty argued that the tuition hike can only exacerbate social inequality in the campus, and thus, presented the socialization scheme to provide greater equity.

Two sides, same coin
Two versions of the STFS were drafted: the proposal of the University Student Council (USC) and the UP administration. The USC described their version as “socialization from below.” Former Student Regent David Celdran further explains that “the emphasis will be on giving more scholarships and grants-in-aid to students by higher income cut-off requirement to more realizable levels.” In the USC scheme, all students will be subsidized accordingly, depending on their family’s annual income.

Meanwhile, the administration commissioned several institutions in the university to draft an STFS proposal. From these, the administration selected the paper of Dr. Romeo Manlapaz, a Mathematics professor, as its official version. Manlapaz’s STFS proposed that “students who can afford should pay at least the full cost of education.” Manlapaz projected a UP net income of P100 to P150 million per year – a considerable increase from the usual income of P30 million from tuition fees alone.

The Abueva administration admitted that because the UP budget has been slashed to as much as P700 million every year, they were looking for ways to generate more income. The administration, thus, designed the STFS as a means to generate income.

Celdran warned that since the administration’s approach turns “the socialized fee scheme into a revenue-generating program,” fewer students will be subsidized. Consequently, majority of the students will be in the upper brackets to pay the full cost of UP education, coughing up the resources the government refused to deliver.

Initial dissent
Despite Celdran’s warning, both proposals were submitted to the Board of Regents (BOR), the university’s highest policy-making body. On January 30, 1989, the BOR approved Manlapaz’s proposal – the current configuration of the STFAP.

According to the UP administration’s 1989 primer, the STFAP adheres to the following objectives: to “reduce the large state subsidy” and “increase the total UP income from tuition and other fees.” Echoing Celdran, former USC Councilor Ariel Nepomuceno criticized the STFAP for its “income generating” orientation. He described the scheme’s implementation as tantamount to commercialization.

However, the administration claimed that the approved version still adheres to the egalitarian principle “from each according to his means, to each according to his needs.” Abueva also claimed that the STFAP would accommodate “poor but deserving students” in the university.

Students, on the other hand, were surprised to find that the “democratized” scheme that was supposed to provide equitable government assistance was accompanied by a radical increase in tuition. From P40 per unit the tuition soared to P300 per unit – a 750 percent increase. To cope with the increase, students flocked to apply for the STFAP. True to Celdran’s warning, many students were classified under Bracket nine, where they paid the tuition in full.

Both Celdran and Nepomuceno criticized the flawed bracketing system and the arbitrariness of the set poverty line. In “The UP STFAP: A Policy Evaluation Study”, results showed that “majority of the respondents found the benefits inadequate, the application process cumbersome and the work program unfair.” They further believed that the administration was incapable of accurate bracketing. Even Bracket one recipients, those that received complete benefits, thought the STFAP provided insufficient support due to the high cost of living (see sidebar).

Miscalculations
Now, two decades after the STFAP’s first implementation, another proposal comes up. An ad-hoc committee led by Emmanuel de Dios of the School of Economics submitted its proposals. Among these prescriptions are relative tuition increase for incoming freshmen and a “more realistic” bracketing system for the STFAP (see sidebar).

The said committee argues that between the year 1989 and 2005, the Consumer Price Index have escalated, resulting to a 328 percent increase in price levels and simultaneously with the levels of family income. Thus, annual incomes based on 1989 levels of inflation would have more than tripled, the committee claims. For instance, in the current STFAP system, a family with an annual income of P250,001 in 1989 would now be earning more than P820,000 at present. De Dios suggests that the same family can now afford a 328 percent tuition increase.

A USC position paper on the proposal states, however, that the committee’s analysis is based on the principle of ceteris paribus, where all things are kept constant. To arrive at the real value, annual family income should not be interpreted in absolute terms, ignoring other significant variables such as the rising prices of oil, goods and services. The newly implemented Expanded Value Added Tax and the poverty threshold must also be taken into account, according to the USC.

Once these variables are in the picture, the USC projected that many families will have to bear another tuition fee hike despite “realistically being unable to marginally afford the costs of living.” In their position paper, the All UP Academic Employees Union (AUPAU), an organization of UP’s academic workforce, writes that “the salaries and wages of Filipino families have not kept up with the rise in the prices of goods and services in the Philippines…Even those in bracket seven would still be living below the required daily income just to survive.”

In fact, if inflationary adjustments were applied, the USC position paper notes that annual family incomes would decline by three instead of tripling in value. For instance, the same family with an annual income of P250,001 would now be earning only P76,000. Thus, those in bracket 9 can now qualify for bracket five, where they are exempt from paying the tuition fee.

Tricky tirades.com
In the new bracketing system (see sidebar), there is only one tier provided for tuition exemption. In fact, the current brackets have been clumped together arbitrarily, with Brackets two to four as Bracket B, Brackets five to eight as Bracket C and Bracket nine as Bracket D. Bracket E is reserved for students with an annual family income of more than a million.

UP President Emerlinda Roman says that re-bracketing is one of the ways that will help poor students pay their tuition. In conclusion, the committee report says that the new system will provide “wider stipend coverage and higher stipend rates.” However, Shahana Abdulwahid, of the USC Student’s Rights and Welfare Committee, says that only 10 percent of undergraduate students can avail of the stipend coverage, a small fraction of those who truly need financial assistance.

Responding to charges of legitimizing state abandonment, Roman says that “constantly asking the state for bigger subsidies would be futile in light of recent government pronouncements about taming the budget deficit.” However, USC Chair Paolo Alfonso adds that it is the government’s responsibility to provide for their education, as mandated by the 1987 Constitution.

Ramon Guillermo, former spokesperson of the Congress of Teachers/Educators for Nationalism and Democracy – Alliance of Concerned Teachers (CONTEND-ACT), further explains that the reduction of social spending traces its origins from the policies imposed by the IMF, which requires the reallocation of funds to foreign debt payment. Thus, social institutions such as UP suffer from insufficient funding exacerbated by chronic budget cuts. To increase its income, UP “engages in entrepreneurial activities,” according to Guillermo. This includes periodic fee increases, the commercialization of idle assets and the decline of automatic subsidies for students, as embodied by the STFAP.

In the guise of offering financial assistance, the administration uses STFAP as a stop gap measure. The government’s abandonment of education has pushed the administration to scrape for additional resources. The administration, in turn, now opts to siphon these resources from the students in the form of tuition and other fee increases. It has then isolated itself from its constituents – aiming its energies against the students and away from the real source of the problem: Government neglect.

SOURCES:

Guillermo, Ramon (1997). Rationalizing Failures: The Philippine Government in the Education Sector. Education for Development Magazine. IBON Databank.

Santillana, Carolina (1995). The UP STFAP: A Policy Evaluation Study.

Santos, Ma. Deanna (1988). What on Earth is the STFS? Philippine Collegian.

University of the Philippines (2006). Final Report: Ad-hoc Committee to Review Tuition and Other Fees.

—

NOTE: This article was published in Volume 84, Issue 9-10 of the Collegian dated 14 December 2006.

The post Paying Scholar:
The Motives Behind the New STFAP appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

by Sheila Ann Abarra, Sanny Boy Afable, Megan Aglaua, Daniel Boone, and Juan Miguel Caacbay

The ride along President Benigno Aquino III’s Tuwid na Daan for the past six years was tedious, bumpy, and has only left out the marginalized in isolation. Now, with his administration, will newly-elected President Rodrigo Duterte continue driving the country along Aquino’s rough road, or will he steer the people to a better destination?

PROMISED LAND

Farmers tirelessly work every day to put food on every Filipino table. Ironically, they are among the poorest and most vulnerable to human rights violations (HRV) and exploitation, and the Department of Agrarian Reform (DAR) under the Aquino term seem to dismiss the fact that most of the farmers are landless.

Hopes were high when Rafael Mariano, the former chairperson of peasant-group Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas (KMP), was appointed as the new DAR Secretary. He was the first farmworker to head the unit- a farmers’ son who witnessed at a young age the struggles faced by his kin.

The DAR was mandated to lease lands to farmers through the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program (CARP), which aims to “grant landless farmers ownership of agricultural lands” by issuing Certificates of Land Ownership Award (CLOA), a document attesting the land as their own.

A total of 7.8 million hectares was set to be distributed until 1998, but the passage of a law amending CARP and allocating additional funds for the program extended the deadline for another ten years. The distribution was prolonged further under the Arroyo administration in 2008 with the creation of the CARP Extension with Reforms (CARPER).

Peasant groups denounced the CARPER because the landholdings of the Arroyos, Cojuangcos, and other landlords remained untouched in its provisions. Moreover, the CARPER allows landowners to reacquire their land after a 10-year retention period.

While 88 percent or 6.9 million hectares have already been distributed, 44 percent of it are public lands which farmers had to pay for using, KMP stated. Land grabbing and CLOA cancellations were also rampant during Aquino’s watch along with HRV cases, exacerbating the peasants’ struggles.

Only 9.7 percent of CARP beneficiaries have been fully paid, while majority of the remaining 90 percent had their CLOAs cancelled, according to 2014 data of the Land Bank of the Philippines.  More than 2.9 million hectares of private lands are yet to be distributed, including the haciendas in Tarlac, Pampanga, Bulacan, Nueva Ecija, Batangas, and Negros.

Meanwhile, drought-stricken peasants in North Cotabato picketed in April to beg for food from the government. Governor Lala Mendoza, however, ordered 150-strong policemen to disperse them later killing three farmers. A month earlier, Hacienda Luisita workers decried abuse and bulldozing of more than 20 hectares of their crops.

As the new DAR secretary, Mariano aims to institutionalize the Genuine Agrarian Reform Bill (GARB) which farmers believed will put an end to CARP and distribute the lands. Now that nine out of 10 farmers remain landless, the call to abolish CARP and dismantle land monopoly has never been as timely.

The administration of President Rodrigo Duterte are urged to prioritize the distribution of idle lands to landless farmers to cover for all the flaws of the previous administrations. GARB was filed in 2008 but has not been signed into law until now.

SYSTEMIC CHANGE

So many problems in the Philippines have long prevailed that their existence have become the norm. For instance, the country’s internet speed, the second slowest in Asia, seems not to bother 43.5 percent of the population who call themselves netizens.

The creation of the Department of Information and Communications Technology (DICT) would place the much needed attention on our technology infrastructure. Recent news of the $81-million launder between the Philippines and Bangladesh, and the Commission on Elections website leak further emphasized the need to establish an Information Communications stronghold that will secure the country’s databases from being accessible to cyber-criminals.

Signed by former President Benigno Aquino III, Republic Act no. 10844 split the Department of Transportation and Communications (DOTC) into what is now the DITC and Department of Transportation.

Atty. Rodolgo Salalima was appointed by President Rodrigo Duterte to be the Secretary of DICT. With 40 years of experience in the telecommunications industry under his name, Duterte believes him to be an expert in the field.

As indicated in the RA 10844, the secretary, three undersecretaries and four assistant secretaries are required to have at least seven years of expertise in whichever information and communications technology, information technology service management, information security management, cyber security, data privacy, e-commerce, or human capital development in the ICT aspect.

Five agencies will be incorporated under DICT: Information and Communications Technology Office, National Computer Center, National Computer Institute, Telecommunications Office, National Telecommunications Training Institute, and all DOTC communications branches.

Nevertheless, technology still has not reached far-flung and rural communities that are located in the peripheries. With the establishment of the ICT, the government should aim not only to improve, but also provide wider access to the people to better facilitate communication.

Moreover, the DICT must be used as an avenue that will give Filipinos the opportunity to hone their skills in the field of technology and make it as a sustainable source of livelihood.

With the great need for the country to catch up with the world’s technocratic revolution, technology should spread across the nation holistically. With the DICT’s simultaneous entrance with the new administration, the department should serve as a genuine manifestation of systemic change.

ROAD TO PROGRESS

Before the Daang Matuwid regime took over in 2010, the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) was perceived as the most corrupt government agency, according to 2009 Pulse Asia survey. It is quite alarming that the department which was supposed to serve as proof of the country’s progress is the same department most unbridled with corruption.

Near Aquino’s term-end, a survey by Social Weather Station’s Survey of Enterprises on Corruption showed how the agency’s reputation improved to “poor” from 2009’s “very bad.” Still, the department today is associated with corruption, excess of funds, and inefficiency.

Almost P1.2 trillion was allocated to DPWH from 2011 to 2016. In his last SONA, former President Benigno Aquino III claimed to use part of the department’s budget to fix and build a total of 12,184 km of road. However, instead of prioritizing new roads for hard-to-reach areas, the government destroyed and reconstructed decent and usable road networks.

Meanwhile, DPWH failed to address the worsening condition of Metro Manila traffic caused by inefficient public transport and further aggravated by road works and sudden increase in the number of private cars. The department also engaged in several public-private partnership (PPP) programs like the Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA) Expressway, scheduled to open in November—13 months behind schedule.

To fix the department’s problems, President Rodrigo Duterte has tapped Las Piñas Representative Mark Villar to be its secretary. A graduate of Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania, Villar previously held executive positions in real-estate agencies like Crown Asia and Vista Land. Villar’s appointment stirred mixed reactions as he is the son of real-estate moguls Senator Cynthia and former Senator Manuel Villar.

Before accepting the post, Villar has claimed authorship of 10 national laws in the 16^th Congress as representative of Las Piñas, most of which are geared towards job generation and financial literacy. It remains a question whether Villar’s business expertise will fare well in handling road and infrastructure projects, a job many think should be given to engineers well-trained in the field.

As former senator, Villar’s father was accused of intervening with the construction of the C5-road extension to lead to his own properties. The younger Villar, however, vowed not to take advantage of his position.

As DPWH secretary, Villar is poised to be at the helm of what Budget Secretary Benjamin Diokno calls the “golden age of infrastructure,” given a promising annual budget increase from 5.2 to seven percent of the country’s gross domestic product (GDP) in the next six years. In turn, the government is expected to improve rural areas where development has been slow during the past administration.

URBAN DECAY

When President Rodrigo Duterte opened the doors of his cabinet to the Philippine left, UP Diliman (UPD) Professor Judy Taguiwalo was easily one of the top picks to head the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD).  Now secured with the post, Taguiwalo vows to transform the agency to one with “tunay na malasakit sa mahihirap.”

Still a staunch activist at the age of 66, Taguiwalo has proven her grasp on the sentiments of the country’s laborers when she founded the All UP Academic Employee Union and All-UP Worker’s Alliance. Both unions sought to reveal the plight of employees in the university and enjoin them to fight for their rights.

The labor situation in the country has long been a cause for alarm. The number of unemployed workers stand at a rate of 6.1 percent this 2016. Meanwhile, four out of 10 workers are non-regular or hired by agencies, according to the National Statistics Office. Agency-hired workers are usually contracted for a period of only six months, making their jobs unstable and source of income uncertain.

The lack of job security has been one of the contributors to extreme cases of poverty in the country. Regardless of the banner projects implemented by the Aquino administration such as the Pantawid Pamilyang Pilipino Program (4Ps), a conditional cash transfer program aimed to eradicate extreme poverty by investing in health and education, the poor still account for about 80 percent of the current population.

Various poverty eradication programs have been implemented before 4Ps: National Household Targeting System for Poverty Reduction, Kapit-Bisig Laban sa Kahirapan – Comprehensive and Integrated Delivery of Social Services – National Community-Driven Development Program (Kalahi CIDSS-NCDDP).

However, these programs failed to address problems of the poor as they were mere band-aid solutions. Unemployment and contractualization remain rampant.

To address this, Taguiwalo’s first call of action is to “address the issue of widespread contractualization in the department.” Of DPWH’s employees, only 1,908 are regular while 9,632 employees are contractual. Around 60 percent or 16,855 of its total personnel are “job order” employees who do not receive compulsory benefits, according to Social Welfare Employees Association of the Philippines (SWEAP)

On the other hand, Taguiwalo is doubtful about the 4Ps as she believes the country needs a more sustainable program for the indigent, instead of a makeshift solution. The new secretary reiterated how inconsistent the program is in terms of choosing beneficiaries, since there are ineligible citizens who are still beneficiaries of the program.  Thus, Taguiwalo has concluded that there is no need to institutionalize a stop-gap measure in terms of poverty alleviation.

Tasks such as financial assistance for the poor, providing quick and timely responses to emergencies, training DSWD personnel and improving its facilities to help the marginalized and exerting full efforts in the protection of the farmers and lumads are Taguiwalo’s main agenda as DSWD secretary.

 “We should legislate long-term economic initiatives that will create more sustainable jobs and livelihood,” Taguiwalo stressed.

SELL-OUT

Leonor Briones has long been an advocate of budget monitoring in the country. The UP Diliman National College of Public Administration and Governance (NCPAG) professor emeritus served as the national treasurer under former President Joseph Estrada. She has further pursued her advocacy as lead convener of budget watchdog Social Watch Philippines.

Now poised to head the Department of Education, Briones is bent towards keeping the department’s budget in check to improve its efficiency.

But more than its efficient budget spending, Briones faces the even bigger burden of continuing the K-12 program, a curriculum reform the country’s education system has inherited from former President Benigno Aquino III’s term.

The latest class opening this June left behind around 400,000 Grade 10 students who were forced to drop out of school, according to youth group Kabataan Partylist. In here alone, the previous administration has failed in its task to provide quality and accessible basic education and to lay foundations for life-long learning and service for the common good.

Students are obviously not the only ones affected by the curriculum shift, as K-12 is also deemed to displace 13,634 teaching and 11,456 non-teaching staff, according to Commission on Higher Education. On top of these are the errors on new textbooks to be used for K-12.

There are around 1,300 errors on the Grade 10 textbook entitled Diversity: Celebrating Munticulturism Through World Literature alone, said Antonio Calipjo Go, academic supervisor at Marian School of Quezon City. While the figures are already working against K-12, newly-elected President Rodrigo Duterte, along with Briones, has expressed support to continue the program.

Much preparation has already been made for K-12 and the law has long been overdue, hence it is too late to stop its implementation, said Briones.

As an expert on budget, Briones believes DepEd needs to prioritize solving poverty. According to her, with or without K-12, there will always be a level of casualty because of poverty.

In doing so, Briones will seek an additional P45 billion funds for the department, a huge chunk of which is for the Alternative Learning System (ALS), a module-based program designed for learners who cannot access formal schooling. Parts of the fund will also be used to fix defects of K-12 program.

Back in 2012, the government promised that K-12 will resolve high unemployment and drop-out rates but data from DepEd itself show the opposite. In light of all of these, Briones should consider everyone’s right to education and lead the department to providing a better education system for the country.

OF BLOOD AND GOLD

Mindanao’s Lumad indigenous peoples (IPs) took an arduous journey in last year’s Manilakbayan to fight for their ancestral lands. Mining companies eyeing their mineral-rich Yutang Kabilin were said to be behind the harassment of Lumad communities and the brutal killings of their leaders — a grim reality many IPs, and the people in general, continue to face in light of modern development.

The mandate then for the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) is to oversee the utilization and conservation of the country’s rich natural resources, while protecting the IPs that are most vulnerable to modern changes. And so the appointment of Regina Lopez, or simply Gina Lopez, to spearhead this task stirred mixed responses given her skepticism toward mining.

Lopez, who hails from a prominent and powerful clan, believes that mining, including its supposedly responsible form, causes destruction and poverty. She has repeatedly stressed that the poorest areas in the Philippines are mining areas. Her anti-mining stint was highlighted by the Save Palawan Movement, a nationwide call she initiated to stop all mining operations in Palawan.

Active in civil society works, she was also the chairperson of both the Pasig River Rehabilitation Commission and ABS-CBN Lingkod Kapamilya Foundation.

Her statements are not always without basis, as many would come to believe. Research by independent think tank IBON Foundation in 2015 states that the share of mining in our gross domestic product is a scanty 0.7 percent while it only employs 0.6 percent. Moreover, 97 percent of mineral production are exported “instead of being instrumental in the development of local industries.”

In the previous administration, DENR boasted of its accomplishments under former Sec. Ramon Paje. Paje reported that the National Greening Program (NGP) reforested 1.6 million of the 8.97 million-hectare denuded area of the country—surpassing the combined 1.232 million-hectare reforestation by the government in the past 50 years. Paje also noted the decrease in the number of illegal logging hotspots from 197 to 23.

However, this laudable record was tainted by mining-related incidents recorded under Aquino’s term. Abusive mining by local and foreign corporations remained at large even with Aquino’s new mining policy stated in Executive Order 79, demanding larger government share from mining revenues while only reinforcing the already destructive Mining Act of 1995.

In 2012, volumes of leak from Philex Mining contaminated two rivers in Benguet. Last year, six coal miners were buried by a landslide in a mine pit in Antique. Mindanao has become the ‘mining capital’ of the Philippines, prompting militarization and displacement of many communities like the Lumad.

Meanwhile, 52 environmentalists were killed under Aquino’s “Daang Matuwid” according to the environmental group Kalikasan PNE. A 2015 report by the international watchdog Global Witness also placed the country second to being the deadliest country in the world for environmental advocates.

At the heart of these issues, the DENR is crucial in safeguarding the rights of the IPs, whom the World Wildlife Fund call the “best conservers of forest biodiversity.” While taking a firm stand against the harmful effects of mining, Lopez has yet to prove if her acts will finally bring the Lumads closer to their ancestral lands.

Illustration by Rosette Abogado

The post Steering the Wheel appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

by Camille Joyce Lisay

The past academic year has seen countless attacks to the country’s only national university, some proposed by the very people within its ranks. Facing these challenges head on, the student regent (SR) has stood his ground in delivering critical stances that captured the voice of the student body.

Representing 55,000 students across UP’s eight constituent units, SR Miguel Enrico Pangalangan’s leadership went beyond his mandated constituents as he also addressed issues that hounded other sectors.

Pangalangan has pursued the Office of the Student Regent (OSR)’s legacy of collective action in order to disturb the status quo, a testament that this is the true formula in combating repressive policies.

Mandate

The SR’s place in the Board of Regents was borne out of the students’ struggle to gain representation in the university’s highest policy-making body. In 1987, students found their representative in the form of now senator Francis Pangilinan, the first SR granted with the right to vote in the board.

Although muddled with issues of corruption, administration intervention, and even division among student councils in the past, the office has practiced proactive vigilance to resolve internal problems.

Today, the office remains to be at the forefront of lobbying for the interests of the UP community.

“Hindi naman iisang tao lang ang SR. So we have to see that ang pagkakapanalo natin sa Board is always paired with the students campaigning for their rights,” shared former SR Krista Iris Melgarejo.

Taking the lead

A UP Visayas Tacloban nominee despite being a Diliman resident, Pangalangan was selected last year during the 40^th General Assembly of Student Councils (GASC) from a pool of five nominees. His visibility among other UP units highlighted his brand of leadership: initiating multi-sectoral campaigns to forward a greater call.

Pangalangan started his term with the Department of Budget Management’s proposal to slash UP’s 2016 budget by P2.2 billion— the largest decrease for its budgetary allocations. As one of the convenors of the Rise for Education (R4E) Alliance, he led the campaign opposing the budget cut. UP was then able to up its allocation by P900 million in the approved 2016 General Appropriations Act.

The R4E was further used to mobilize student councils and organizations to promote the right to education. The alliance launched campaigns to junk the Socialized Tuition System, the tuition scheme currently used by the university to determine how much a student must pay based on socioeconomic background.

“Together with the OSR, we have built chapters of the R4E in the campuses of the UP System, enabling student councils, organizations and formations to more efficiently address issues pertaining to our right to education,” said KASAMA sa UP Chairperson Raoul Danniel Manuel.

The fires that razed the College of Arts and Sciences Alumni Association Food Center, Alumni Center, and the Faculty Center prompted the OSR to raise concerns on the structural maintenance of buildings in UP Diliman. The consecutive fire incidents highlighted the low maintenance of current facilities and emphasized the administration’s failure to provide enough budget for capital outlay, which includes the creation of new dormitories.

For his term, Pangalangan also recognized that the OSR is inseparable from the plight of other sectors. As the 700-strong Lumad community marched to UPD on October 26 last year, he stood at the frontline to welcome and support the indigenous people’s nationwide campaign called Manilakbayan.

This, along with creating more noise to stop the abolition of Dr. Jose Fabella Memorial Hospital in Manila, were some of the problems Pangalangan dealt with to show the inseparability of struggles beyond the university.

Dissenting voice

Within the BOR, Pangalangan had to stand up to 11 other members whose decisions were often against what he fought for.

Pangalangan’s term saw the addition of more business schools to the university name. Private entities doling out donations to UP paved the way for the creation of UP Bonifacio Global City (BGC), UP Clark, and now the UP Technology Innovation in Cavite, which will be constructed through the donations of the Villar Foundation.

While we continue establishing schools that are for profiteering schemes, we lack equipment in the School of Health Sciences in Koronadal, where students have nothing to use but their imaginations to envision the experiments they need to do, said Pangalangan during his end of term report.

UP education took another direct hit when the professors themselves moved to reduce the number of General Education courses to 21 to 36 units from the original 45 required units to finish a degree. The proposal is aligned with the basic education curriculum’s transition to K-12 program, stating that the lessons taught in GE classes must have been tackled in the additional two years of K-12.

The board has already approved the proposal of all constituent units except UPD to reduce GE units, despite opposition from the SR. The students were not consulted- the creation of this policy would have been more participatory and inclusive if the students were a part of it, Pangalangan said.

“If all of the courses are possible to work out for everyone’s benefit, if they included us on that basis, why do we still jump to the conclusion that we have to reduce the GE [units]?” he added.

Pangalangan was also pressured when he singly opposed the activation of the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC) in UP Mindanao and Baguio. The SR cited the lack of academic unit that would implement ROTC, relegating control and management of the program to the Armed Forces of the Philippines.

“We contested with UP Mindanao implementation considering that Manilakbayan was a national campaign, so we need to scrutinize the integrity of the military especially in UP Mindanao,” he said.

We are outnumbered in the board, making it difficult to make the voices of students heard amid protests against anti-student policies and harassment from the state and military, Pangalangan said.

Despite his active participation in campaigns, Pangalangan was criticized for granting observer status to the National College of Public Administration and Governance Student Council (NCPAG SC) during the 41^st General Assembly of Student Councils (GASC) in UP Mindanao. NCPAG SC failed to confirm their attendance on time, depriving them of the right to vote during the proceedings.

While Pangalangan clarified it was a standard operational procedure, students slammed the OSR for allowing mere technicalities to take away NCPAG’s voting rights. This impasse, however, should not undermine his term’s contribution to the student movement.

Pangalangan stood by the OSR’s mandate to fight for the rights and welfare of the students, from within and outside the board.

“We are done with our term, but we are not yet done serving the people,” Pangalangan said as he closed the 42^nd GASC, the official end to his term.

The post Resolute Stand:
The Office of the Student Regent under Miguel Enrico Pangalangan’s helm appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

ni Sanny Boy D. Afable

Nang-aanyaya ang pangako ng bagong mundo. Dito, malayang magagalugad ng tao ang lahat ng hiwagang nakatago sa espasyong kaniyang kinagagalawan. Kaya niyang banggain ang limitasyon ng sarili at ng nakasanayang realidad. Mababago niya ang hugis ng mundo.

Mag-isa siyang maglalakbay, tatakbo upang hulihin ang mga nagtatagong hiwaga. Sisilipin niya ang bawat espasyo, bawat kanto, gagapiin ang sukal ng lugar.

Ngunit naisin man niyang humulagpos sa limitasyon ng realidad, inilalayo siya ng ‘di nakikitang puwersa mula sa natitigang na kanayunan patungo sa sanga-sangang mga lansangan sa lungsod. Sasabay lamang siya sa alon ng iba pang naghahanap din ng hiwaga hanggang tangayin siya nito sa mga monumento, parke, at mala-halimaw na gusali—sa puso ng lungsod.

Titigil siya sa kinatatayuan. Dito nagkukumpulan sina Pidgey, Rattata, at iba pang Pokémon. Napaliligiran siya ng mga Pokéstop at Pokémon Gym. Nasalat niya ang Poké Ball sa kaniyang smartphone at ‘ibinato’ ito sa bawat nilalang na nagtataglay ng kakaibang kapangyarihan at katangian.

Sandali’y nawaglit sa kaniyang isipan ang mundo sa labas ng hiwaga. Ngunit nananatili ang ayos at latag ng daigdig. Langit ng mayayaman ang nagtataasang mga gusali sa lungsod at paraiso nila ang malalawak na lupain sa lalawigan. Sa mga laylayan at gilid ng sentro ng kapangyarihan, naroon ang sangkatauhan.

Pokémon World

Para kay Satoshi Tajiri, ang lumikha ng larong Pokémon, isang mahiwagang mundo ang panghuhuli ng mga Pokémon tulad ng panghuhuli niya ng mga insekto at butete sa Machida, isang rural na bahagi ng Tokyo kung saan siya lumaki noong dekada ’60 at ’70.

Kinailangang bumangong muli ng Japan mula sa iniwang pinsala ng digmaan, kaya’t sumandig ito sa malawakang urbanisasyon ng mga lungsod. Sa paglaho ng mga pamilyar na tanawing binago ng industriyalisasyon, naisipan ni Tajiri na lumikha ng panibagong mundo, kung saan maaaring patuloy na maglakbay at makapaglaro ang mga susunod na henerasyon ng kabataang Hapon.

Unang nasaksihan ang Pokémon World sa mga Game Boy noong 1996. Dalawa lang ang layunin ng manlalaro: humuli ng maraming Pokemon at makumpleto ang koleksyon sa Pokédex, at magsanay ng mahusay na grupo ng Pokemon na tutunggali sa ibang grupo—’ika nga, “be the very best like no one ever was.”

Sa muling pagbubukas ng mundong ito sa pamamagitan ng Pokémon Go, tila nakalapat na ito sa mga espasyo ng tunay na mundo. Sa tulong ng kaniyang smartphone at ng GPS, buong pananabik niyang ginagalugad ang espasyo ng kaniyang mundo tulad sa ideyal na mundo ng Pokémon, ‘di alintana ang babanggaing mga pader at hangganan sa totoong buhay.

Hindi lamang siya nakikipagtunggali sa kapwa Pokémon Trainer sa loob ng Gym. Lingid sa kaniyang kaalaman, maging ang espasyong tinatanaw niya ay produkto at patuloy na hinuhubog ng tunggalian ng nagbabanggaang mga puwersa. Ang espasyo ay hindi blangkong lunsaran ng mga pangyayari, ayon kay Propesor Kristian Saguin ng UP Department of Geography. Ito ay “socially produced” at simbolikal. “Through everyday practices and as we live our daily lives, we create spaces. Often, however, these everyday practices do not match or sometimes conflict with other visions of space […] abstracted from the daily lives of people.”

Nabubunyag ang katangiang ito ng espasyo sa larong Pokémon Go. Bagaman ideyal ang Pokémon World, nalilimitahan ito at nahuhubog ng materyal na realidad. Pulitikal ang espasyo at lunan ito ng tunggalian. Susunod ang tao sa mabagal na daloy ng trapiko habang tinatanaw ang Eevee sa ‘di kalayuan. Nais niyang tawirin ang nagtataasang pader ng pribadong subdibisyon para hulihin si Growlithe. Pagsubok din ang pakikipagsiksikan sa bangketa o kung gagalugarin ang maraming mga eskinita ng Maynila.

Dibuho ni John Kenneth Zapata

Lure Module

Dahil “catch ‘em all” ang layon ng laro, maaaring gumamit ang manlalaro ng Lure at Incense upang makahuli ng mas maraming Pokémon. Hindi ito palaging libre at hindi ito mura kung bibilhin. Patuloy siyang maglalakad hanggang sa tangayin siya ng kaniyang smartphone sa nagtataasang mga gusali, dambuhalang mga mall, at mga negosyo sa tabi ng mga monumento. Susubukan din niyang dumalo sa ‘Lure Drop Party’ ng Ayala Malls.

Samantala, iniinda ng ilang manlalaro, o nagnanais maglaro, ang pagkukumpulan ng mga Pokémon, Stop, at Gym sa mga lungsod. Mayroong malaking konsentrasyon ang laro sa mga urbanisadong espasyo ng Pilipinas tulad sa Maynila. Isang malaking negosyo ang Pokémon Go, at ‘di ito nalilihis sa tunay na layunin ng lungsod: maging daluyan ng kapital at kita.

Tulad ng sa tunay na daigdig, ang daloy at galaw sa mundo ng Pokémon Go ay patungong lungsod, at hindi paluwas mula dito—walang pinagkaiba sa daloy ng mga hilaw na sangkap at rekursong tulad ng pagkain, tubig, at enerhiya. Nakasentro ang pinakamaraming mga Pokémon sa siyudad, na sumasalamin din sa hindi pantay na pag-unlad sa pagitan ng lungsod at lalawigan.

Ngunit kabalintunaang ang lungsod ay isang malaking Lure Module ng yaman, habang ang mas nakararaming masa – 54.7 porsyento ng ating populasyon o 50.5 milyon noong 2010 – ay nakatira sa mga rural na bahagi, at nasa higit na komplikadong espasyo at mas mahirap na realidad.

Walang Pokémon Go sa mga kanayunan, bagaman umiinog dito ang mas marahas na tunggalian. Patuloy na lumalaban ang magsasaka upang mapasakamay nila sa wakas, tulad ng mga Pokémon, ang kanilang karapatan sa lupa. Marahas na paghuli naman ang tugon ng mga nasa kapangyarihan.

Samantala, bagaman konsentrado ang laro sa lungsod, mabangis na espasyo pa rin ito kahit sa mga nagbabakasakaling manlalaro sa loob nito. Higit itong lunan ng tunggalian at kontradiksyon. Siguradong mailap din ang mga Pokémon at Poké Stop sa nagsisiksikang iskuwater sa loob mismo ng lungsod. Kahit pampublikong espasyo ang ilang eskuwelahan at mga mall na potensyal na paraiso ng mga Pokémon, hindi pa rin basta-basta nakakapasok dito ang maraming masang nagnanais, kahit pansamantala, na maging bahagi ng hiwaga.

Poké Gym

Nais ng tao tumakas mula sa mapaniil na pang-araw-araw at nakasanayan.

Habang nakakulong siya sa lungsod na kontrolado ng iilang nagpapatakbo sa laro, lalo lamang lumalaki ang siwang sa pagitan niya at kaniyang trabaho, ang matitingkad na ilaw, nakabibinging ingay, at masukal na istruktura ng di nakikitang rehas: ang siyudad. Kaya lagi, panandalian niyang tinatakasan ang masalimuot na realidad.

At ngayo’y tumatakas siya kasama ni Pikachu. Para kay Propesor Hazel Dizon ng UP Department of Geography, dahil nagiging kabahagi ng augmented reality ang mga manlalaro, “may mga pagkakataon na akala nila ay nasa virtual sila at nalilimutan nila na bahagi sila ng material reality… Nalilimutan na may mga tunggalian sa espasyong materyal.”

Hindi napupunan ng Pokémon Go ang mga puwang sa pagitan ng indibidwal at ang lungsod, dahil ang mismong lungsod ay puno ng mga puwang mula sa iba’t ibang tunggalian dito.

Kaya ang hamon, ayon sa heograpong si David Harvey, ay igiit ang ‘right to the city.’ Higit ito sa indibidwal na karapatan sa lungsod. Ito ay kolektibong hangaring baguhin ng lahat, maging ang mga nasa labas ng lungsod, na maging bahagi sa paghuhulma at pagbabago ng siyudad.

Para kay Saguin, binibigyan ng right to the city ang lahat ng karapatang lumikha ng lungsod para sa lahat, sumasalangsang sa kasalukuyang anyo nito—marahas at hindi makatarungan.

Walang right to the city sa kasalukuyang konfigurasyon ng mga lungsod sa Pilipinas, kung saan idinidikta lamang ng iilan ang daloy ng lungsod, at nananatiling estadistika ang mga maralitang nakakulong sa ayos ng lungsod—lalo sa ilalim ng ‘war on drugs’ ng bagong administrasyon.

Upang igiit at mabawi ang ating right to the city, kailangang kumilos ng kolektibo sa labas ng itinakdang mekanismo at batas ng iilan sa loob ng lungsod. Ayon kay Dizon, “kailangan ng kolaborasyon ng mga ginigipit upang mapanalo ang espasyo.” Katumbas ito ng pagbabago sa takbo ng laro: “may kolaborasyon ang mga manlalaro upang mahuli ang mga Pokémon.”

Pagbabalik ito sa dating imahe ng lungsod bilang lunsaran ng diskurso, pagkilos, at radikal na pagbabago. Dito, muling nang-aanyaya ang pangako ng bagong lungsod. Malayang magagalugad ng tao ang lahat ng hiwagang nakatago sa espasyong kaniyang kinagagalawan. Kaya niyang banggain ang limitasyon ng sarili at ng nakasanayang realidad. Mababago ng kolektibo ang hugis ng mundo. ■

The post PokéWorld:
Paggalugad sa Espasyo ng Pokémon GO appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

Kuha ni Chester Higuit

ni Daniel Boone

Lampas ika-walo na ng gabi nang matapos ang anim na oras naming byahe tungo sa bulubunduking bahagi ng Pampanga. Bahagyang nahirapan ang jeep na sinasakyan namin gawa ng matarik at baku-bakong kalsada ng Barangay Nabuclod, Floridablanca, dagdag pa ang kawalan ng ilaw sa daanan.

Pinamumuhayan ng katutubong Aeta ang sinadya naming komunidad. Nabanggit na sa akin at mga kasamahan ko sa Kule ang kinakaharap nilang sitwasyon bago kami tumungo sa lugar, ngunit nabigla pa rin ako sa inabutan namin: walang maayos na tirahan at palikuran ang mga pamilya, malayo ang suplay ng tubig, at iilan lang din ang may kuryente.

Sa kabila nito, malugod kaming tinanggap ng mga Aeta. Payapa ang buong paligid, ngunit tila maririnig sa katahimikan ang tinig ng mga Aetang lumalaban para sa kanilang kapakanan.

Kuha ni Aliona Silva

Pagbasag sa katahimikan

Noong pumutok ang Bulkang Pinatubo taong 1991, napilitan ang mga Aeta na bumaba at makipamuhay sa kapatagan. Isa lamang ang Nabuclod sa naging tirahan nila, na bahagi ng kanilang 5,000 hektaryang katutubong lupain.

Halos magkakamag-anak ang lahat ng lokal sa Nabuclod. Mahigit 100 pamilya ang naninirahan sa barangay, at isa doon ang pamilya nina Kuya Michael at Ate Lani kung saan ako pansamantalang nanirahan.

Hindi nalalayo ang uri ng buhay nila Kuya Michael sa karamihan ng nasa komunidad. Sa isang maliit na bahay na gawa sa pawid at kawayan, nagsisisiksikan sila kasama ang kanilang limang anak. Hindi sila napabilang sa 16 na pamilyang napagkalooban ng mga bahay na gawa sa bato at semento mula sa Housing and Urban Development Coordinating Council noong 2012.

Hindi man nasama sa pabahay ng gobyerno, mapalad na kung tutuusin ang mag-anak dahil kasama ang tahanan nila sa naaabot ng kuryente. Umaabot sa P13 ang binabayaran nila Kuya Michael kada buwan sa gamit nilang dalawang maliit na bombilya at maliit na telebisyon.

Halos walang maririnig sa paligid bukod sa ingay ng mga manok, bibe, baboy, at kambing na alaga ng mga residente bilang pandagdag kita. Kulang ang kinikita nila sa pagtatanim ng gulay tulad ng mais, gábi, at ampalaya, at lugi pa sila kung susumahin ang hirap at pagod na dinadanas sa pagsasaka.

Mahigit dalawang oras paakyat-baba sa kabundukan ang tinatahak nila Kuya Michael bago makarating sa taniman. Hindi na nila alintana ang panganib dulot ng paglalakad sa makitid na daanan sa gilid ng bundok, na sa isang maling hakbang ay maaari nilang ikamatay.

Sa panahon naman ng anihan, binibili ng mga sakadero sa kapatagan ang mga ampalaya ng P15 kada kilo lamang. “Wala kaming karapatang magbigay ng presyo. Kung magkanong ibabayad nila, ‘yun na,” kwento niya. Halos P10,000 ang naging utang ni Kuya Michael nitong anihan ng Marso na mababawi lamang sa panahon ng gábi kung kailan bahagyang mas malaki ang kita.

Kuha ni Chester Higuit

Bulong sa hangin

Palaging naaagrabyado ang mga Aeta sa ganitong kalakaran, kaya naman ganoon na lamang ang pagpapahalaga nila sa edukasyon upang mabigyan ng mas magandang kinabukasan ang mga anak nila, pahayag ni Ate Lani.

Hindi biro ang inaabot na hirap ng mga batang Aeta makapasok lamang sa paaralan. Mahigit kalahating oras ang nilalakad ni Kathleen, panganay nila Kuya Michael, upang umabot sa klase sa ikaanim na baitang. Hindi nila iniisip ang oras kadalasan ding nahuhuli ang kanilang guro na nagmumula pa sa bayan.

Mahigit tatlong oras naman ang nilalakad ng mga nasa hayskul pababa sa bayan para lang makapasok. Kwento pa ni Ate Lani, kaunti lamang ang nakakapagkolehiyo dahil tumutulong na lamang sa taniman ang mga batang Aeta pagkatapos ng hayskul.

Kung makakatungtong man sa kolehiyo, tatanggap sila ng P10,000 kada semester mula sa lokal na pamahalaan: pang-matrikula ang kalahati, at pang-upa naman ng dormitoryo kalapit ng pamantasan sa Bacolor o San Fernando ang matitira. “Kulang talaga ‘yun kaya ipangungutang pa namin,” aniya.

Dagdag pasanin din sa mga Aeta ang kawalan ng malapit na pagamutan. May health center sa tabi ng eskwelahan ngunit hindi na umano ito binuksan, kung kaya’t kailangan pang ibaba sa bayan ang mga may sakit. “Libre ‘yung konsulta para sa [amin], pero may bayad ‘yung gamot,” ani Ate Lani.

Ilang hakbang lamang mula sa bahay nina Ate Lani, narinig ko ang mas malakas na hinaing mula kay Kuya Rudy, kapatid ni Kuya Michael, na nakipagkwentuhan at pahapyaw nang nagsumbong sa amin ukol sa mga paniniil na ginagawa sa mga Aeta lalo na sa usapin ng pangangamkam ng lupa.

Kuha ni Chester Higuit

Tinig ng representasyon

Taong 2010 nang magpatayo ang lokal na pamahalaan ng 480-metrong zipline at tatlong viewdeck para makaakit ng mga turistang magbibigay ng karagdagang kita para sa mga Aeta. “Sabi sa amin, gaganda ang buhay namin, pero kahit isang kusing, wala kaming natanggap,” ani Kuya Rudy.

Dahil dito, bumuo ang komunidad ng isang komite na magsisiguro sa kapakanan ng mga Aeta sa lugar nila. Tinawag ang grupo na Angaw na nangangahulugang “sigaw ng katutubo,” ngunit tila mas pinakinggan pa ng pamahalaan ang kalansing ng pera.

Ipinatawag sa bayan ang mga kasapi ng Angaw upang pagpulungan umano ang ukol sa kabutihang maidudulot ng proyektong zipline, ngunit niloko lamang sila ng mga awtoridad, ani Kuya Rudy. “Pinapirma kami lahat sa attendance [sheet], hindi naman lahat sa amin marunong bumasa, ‘yun pala, kontrata na pala ‘yun na [pumapayag kami],” dagdag niya. Mahigit 1,000 hektarya ng katutubong lupa ang nawala sa mga Aeta dahil sa proyekto.

Samantala, nakaamba naman ang proyektong geothermal power plant ng Aboitiz Power Renewable, Inc. (APRI) na itatayo sa gilid naman ng kabundukan upang gamitin ang heat energy mula sa ilalim ng lupa. Sa kabuuan, 20,000 hektarya ang sasakupin ng planta mula Bundok Negron hanggang Bundok Cuadrado na parehong nasa Pampanga at Zambales, pahayag ni Kuya Rudy.

Isang public-private partnership (PPP) ang planta na iginawad sa mga Aboitiz noong 2012, na nilalayong magsuplay ng kuryente sa ilang lugar sa Zambales at Pampanga.

Kapalit ng pagpayag sa pagpapatayo ng planta, inalok ang mga Aeta nang maayos at tuloy-tuloy na trabaho. Ngunit dahil hindi naman nakapag-aral ang karamihan sa mga Aeta, maaaring maging kasangkapan sila bilang murang lakas paggawa, at sa huli, sila pa rin ang malulugi, ani Kuya Rudy.

May panganib ding dulot ang proyektong geothermal power plant ng APRI dahil hindi ito nakasunod sa pamantayang isinasaad sa Renewable Energy Safety, Health, and Environment Rules and Regulations (RESHERR), ayon mismo sa datos ng Department of Energy nitong Enero 2016.

Dagdag pa ni Kuya Rudy, makakalbo ang mga kabundukan kung ipapatayo ang planta, kasabay ng unti-unting pagkasira ng ilog, pagkawala ng mga isda, at pagkamkam ng lupang taniman nila ng gulay.

Pansamantalang napigilan ang pagpapatayo ng planta dahil ayaw nang lumagda ng mga Aeta sa kahit anong kasunduan. Gayunpaman, hindi nawawala ang pangamba na kamkamin ng mga negosyante ang lupang kinagisnan na nila balang araw.

Kuha ni John Reczon Calay

Sigaw ng katutubo

Napahanga ako sa pagkakaisa ng mga Aeta. Maririnig sa kwento nila kung gaano sila kalapit sa kalikasan, na siyang tangi nilang pinagkukunan ng pangkabuhayan. Ang mga kwento nina Kuya Michael, Ate Lani, at Kuya Rudy, marahil, ay kwento rin hindi lamang ng mga Aeta sa Nabuclod kundi ng kalakhan ng mga katutubo sa bansa.

Noong Oktubre 2015 lamang, naglakbay ang libu-libong katutubong Lumad sa Mindanao tungo sa Maynila upang iparating ang kanilang hinaing na wakasan ang militarisasyon sa kanilang komunidad at paaralan.

Ibang laban naman ang kaharap ng mga katutubo sa Didipio, Nueva Vizcaya. Nagresulta ang pagpasok ng mga kompanya ng minahan sa komunidad ng pagkasira ng ilog, pagkawala ng tirahan, at pagkamatay ng maraming mga residenteng nag-aklas laban dito, ayon sa KATRIBU, organisasyon ng mga katutubo sa bansa.

Tulad ng kwento ng mga Lumad at mga katutubo sa Didipio, narinig ko rin sa mga Aeta ng Nabuclod ang panawagang sana’y pakinggan sila ng mas marami pang tao: na sisira hindi lamang ng kalikasan kundi ng buhay ng mga residente ang pagpasok ng mga negosyante sa kanilang lugar. Ito ang narinig kong sigaw ng katutubo.

At baon namin sa aming pag-uwi ang mahalagang gampanin na iparinig ang sigaw na ito sa higit pang nakararami. ■

The post Sigaw ng Katutubo appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

Illustration by John Kenneth Zapata

■ Aldrin Villegas

This is the story of the “Greatest Show on Earth.” Enlivened by multicolored fireworks and the rhythm of people dancing the samba in festive national costumes, the Maracanã Stadium staged a spectacle of Brazilian culture and natural beauty to open the 2016 Games. In this city of white sandy beaches and soaring mountains, the Olympic Games brings the world’s attention to Rio de Janeiro.

To tell the story of Rio is to tell a tale of two cities. The Rio brought to the world’s attention is the city advertised in Olympics videos: Sugarloaf Mountain, Copacabana, the statue of Christ the Redeemer, Ipanema. However, the real city is the one behind the scenes: shantytowns known as favelas, a sea of cinderblocks with narrow roads snaking in between the vast expanse of urban slum.

Rio 2016 is thus an arena of polar opposites. This is an Olympics set in a backdrop of crises—a corruption scandal; a deep recession; a president battling an impeachment trial. The Olympic torch has been extinguished, but the game continues in an arena of warring narratives.

A new world

Hosting the 2016 Olympics is Brazil’s shot to establish its status as a developing country and tell its story to the world. Rio 2016, with its slogan of “A New World,” paints a picture of transformation and progress.

But what makes a story powerful is not necessarily facts. Instead, it is how the audience creates meaning from the story. Porter Abbott, author of The Cambridge Introduction to Narrative, includes narrative discourse in his definition of narrative in addition to the story. In Rio’s opening ceremony, the discourse is a combination of theater, cinema, and technology all working together to present Brazil favorably to its worldwide audience.

This Olympics tells the story of the city of asphalt. The cosmopolitan neighborhood basks in the sun with Ipanema at the forefront of beach culture.  When the sun sets over this city, the elite head home to wash off the sand and prepare for a nightlife in clubs and restaurants. As people flock to Rio for the Games, a wall enclosing the freeway welcomes them towards the asphalts.

However, lurking behind the shadow of the city is a contrasting scene—the favelas on the hill. Here, basic social services like sewers and running water are scarce, while a strikingly different system of laws and conduct prevails. Here, gang members live a life where it is either blood or glory, and confrontations between police and drug traffickers are part of the daily grind.

As the city rushed to make ready for the first Olympics in South America, it swept off more than 77,000 locals to turn their homes into something else—an Olympic park, a sporting venue, or perhaps just to clear the view.

Inspire a generation

Creating a fantasy of what it means to be a country, the Olympics is not just about winning medals but changing how the world sees a nation—like a story that is always mediated, the Games is a spectacle that is constructed.

Following the success of London 2012, the world has been skeptical of Brazil in a time of recession and political turmoil. From the opening ceremony’s gutted budget to the modest demand for tickets, the Olympics has been surrounded with contradictions—one of which is sustainability in a celebration of extravagance.

In recent years, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has been creating a rhetoric of legacy in the story of the Games.  In London 2012, the slogan “Inspire a Generation” boasted of a legacy to transform the lifestyle of people through sports. However, assessments later showed that sporting numbers plummeted—an Olympic legacy failure of a sedentary nation.

This only affirms that the impact of narrative, including its meaning, is not something that is securely under the author’s control. Readers are always called to be active participants in narrative, since the story is really something that we construct, according to Abbott.

A glamorized story of inequality is revealed in the Olympiad world created by the IOC. Reserving bids exclusively for major world cities, the Olympics excludes smaller cities in the quest for global relevance. In the end, the glitter of the Games fails to hide the tilted global order embedded in the narrative of the Olympics.

One world, one dream

While the IOC professes political neutrality, the Olympics however fails to transcend the influence of international politics. It is in fact a powerful political space, often used as a platform for enacting or dramatizing political conflicts, according to sociologists David Karen and Robert Washington.

The official narrative we are told is a story of universalist aspirations. The 2008 Beijing Olympics, a debut for China as a major power, captured this well in the slogan “One World, One Dream,” purporting equality among competing nations. However, the reality of power relations shaping the course of its narrative stands as an undeniable contrast.

Despite the Olympics’ goals of promoting international peace and harmony, these goals remain hollow in reality. Political injustices within and between member nations were protested at various point in time in the Olympics, but the IOC chose to remain silent.

A notorious example is the 1968 Olympics, where two black American athletes displayed a “Black Power” salute to call attention to racial injustice in the US. The US Olympic Committee banned them not only from the team but from competing in the Games permanently, while the IOC kept mum. Decades since then, the organization now claims to give voice to the victims and unsung heroes of the war.

Rio 2016 presents the world the story of the ongoing refugee crisis with the first ever refugee Olympic team. “Having no national team to belong to, having no flag to march behind, having no national anthem to be played, these refugee athletes will be welcomed to the Olympic Games with the Olympic flag and with the Olympic Anthem,” said IOC President Thomas Bach.

Aside from being a battleground for sports, the Olympics is a political arena. Rio 2016 could have served as a unique platform to make a political stand. But even after the spectacles in Rio were finished and the Olympic torch was extinguished, no real commitments were made to address the refugee crisis.

When confronted with political conflicts, the Games’ commitment to peace and harmony is just empty rhetoric. The Olympics may frame its narrative as “The Greatest Show on Earth,” but it is for the spectators to judge this story, set in an arena of contrasts. ■

The post A Tale of Two Cities appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

Dibuho ni John Kenneth Zapata

■ Camille Joyce Lisay

May ilang buwan lang ang nakalilipas, nasa loob pa rin sila ng piitan. Nagsisiksikan ang anim na bilanggo sa loob ng isang maliit na selda. Dagdag pa sa hirap ng buhay sa loob ng bilangguan ang panggigipit ng mga warden at iba pang opisyal: sapilitang paghahalungkat ng mga gamit, pagkukumpiska ng mga babasahin, pambababoy sa mga imbak na pagkain. Pandarahas ang naging kapalit ng paglaban para sa kapayapaan.

Ngunit tila sumisibol na ang pag-asa para sa inaasam na kapayapaan. Idineklara na ang tigil-putukan sa pagitan ng Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) at New Peoples Army (NPA). Tinakdaan na rin ang pagsunod sa ilang dokumentong papanday sa pagkakasundo ng dalawang panig. At sa wakas ay lumaya na ang ilan sa mga bilanggong pulitikal sa bansa, mula sa hanay ng mga National Democratic Front of the Philippines (NDFP) consultant, upang makilahok sa mga pulong sa Oslo, Norway hinggil sa usaping pangkapayapaan.

Nag-aanyaya ito ng pangako. Sinisikap ng dalawang panig na taluntunin ang pinakaugat ng tunggalian upang isakatuparan ang mga layunin ng usaping pangkapayapaan.

Ugat ng tunggalian
Taong 1968 nang itatag ni Jose Maria Sison ang Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) bilang tugon sa lumalalang kahirapan, kawalan ng soberanya, at pananamantala sa sambayanan. Simula’t sapul, layunin na nitong itaguyod ang mga nasasadlak na sektor sa lipunan: magsasaka, manggagawa, kababaihan, at mga katutubo.

Binuo ang NPA bilang militar na sangay ng CPP. Malawakan ang naging pagtangkilik sa grupo—umabot sa 60,000 katao ang napabilang sa armadong puwersa nito dahil na rin sa patuloy na panggigipit ng estado sa ilalim ng diktadurya ni dating Pangulong Ferdinand Marcos. Tinatayang 75,730 kasong pulitikal ang isinampa sa ilalim ng dating diktador, habang naging agresibo ang AFP sa pagtunton sa grupo ng NPA.

Nang ideklarang terorista ang CPP-NPA sa ilalim ng Anti-Subversion Act ni Marcos, itinatag noong 1973 ang NDFP upang pagkaisahin ang puwersang masa laban sa diktatura. Nagsisilbing legal na sangay ng CPP ang NDFP na pinamumunuan ni Luis Jalandoni upang kumatawan sa grupo sa mga usaping pangkapayapaan katuwang ang gobyerno.

Pangako ng negosasyon
Naganap ang unang negosasyong pangkapayapaan sa Maynila noong 1986 sa termino ni dating Pangulong Cory Aquino. Dito sinimulang palayain ang mga bilanggong pulitikal. Ngunit pansamantala lamang ang naging tigil-putukan nang pumutok ang Mendiola Massacre noong 1987 kung saan 13 magsasakang nagmobilisa ang nasawi.

Bunsod nito, inilunsad ang negosasyon sa Oslo simula 2001 kung saan magsisilbing tagapamagitan ang pamahalaan ng Norway. Nalagdaan na ang mga dokumentong siyang katuwang sa pagpapadaloy ng negosasyon: ang The Hague Declaration noong 1992, Joint Agreement on Safety and Immunity Guarantees (JASIG) noong 1995 at Comprehensive Agreement on Respect for Human Rights and International Humanitarian Law (CARHRIHL) noong 1998.

Sa ilalim ng naunang dokumento, napagkasunduan ang pagkakaroon ng apat na substantibong adyenda bilang gabay sa pagpapadaloy ng negosasyong pangkapayapaan. Kabilang sa adyendang ito ang usaping karapatang pantao, sosyo-ekonomikong reporma, politikal at konstitusyonal na reporma, at disposisyon ng mga armadong pwersa.

Ipinagkakaloob naman ng JASIG ang proteksyon sa mga nahabla ng kasong politikal. Gingarantiya nito ang seguridad ng mga bilanggong pulitikal mula sa detensyon, interogasyon at prosekusyon. Nagsisilbi namang balangkas ang CARHRIHL sa pagtamasa ng unang adyenda na nagpapaigting sa proteksyon ng karapatang-pantao kabilang na ng mga mamamayang kaisa sa armadong pakikibaka.

Ngunit sa kabila ng CARHRIHL at JASIG, nagpapatuloy ang paglabag sa karapatang-pantao maging ng mga kasapi ng NDF. Aabot ng 600 ang mga biktima ng extrajudicial killings habang 543 ang nanatiling nakadetinang poldet, kung saan 304 dito ang napiit sa ilalim ng administrasyon ni Pangulong Benigno Aquino III.

“Dapat ipatupad ng gobyerno ang CARHRIHL. Ito ay para maprotektahan ang mga komunidad na apektado ng labanan upang masubukan natin ang kooperasyon at palaguin ang koopersayon sa pagitan ng CPP at ng pamahalaan. Gusto natin na maging maayos ang relasyon nilang dalawa. Makakatulong din ito upang mapagpatuloy ang usaping pangkapayapaan,” pagbabahagi ni Prof. Dennis Quilala.

Humarap rin sa patong-patong na kaso ang 22 NDFP consultants sa kabila ng proteksyon mula sa JASIG. Naglabas ng pahayag ang panig ng estado na maaari lamang maisaalang-alang ang bisa nito sa mga beripikadong pangalan dahil sa mga naitalang kaso ng palsipikadong pangalan.

“Hindi dahilan ang paggamit ng aliases upang hindi itakda ang pagsunod sa JASIG. Pinahihintulutan nito ang paggamit ng assumed name dahil maaaring may peligro. Lalo na ang mga mula sa underground, para na maengganyo ang lahat na lumahok sa usaping pangkapayapaan,” giit ni Atty. Edre Olalia ng National Union of Peoples Lawyers (NUPL).

Hamon sa administrasyon
Bagaman tinatanaw na oportunidad ang negosasyon, nahahaharap pa rin ang dalawang kampo sa pagkakaroon ng kapasyahang tumindig sa mga napagkasunduan. Isang hamon para sa delegasyon ng bansa na magpanday ng ilang inisyatibo upang patibayin ang adyendang kapayapaan.

“Kinakailangang may umiral na kagandahang-loob, tiwala at kapasyahan na sinserong harapin ang nakasalang sa negosasyon. Nananalig ang maraming sektor na mayroong aabutin ang negosasyong magaganap sa Oslo pero hindi puwedeng magtakda ang dalawang panig ng agarang demand mula sa isa’t-isa,” pagbabahagi ni Atty. Olalia.

Isa lamang ang pinatutunayan ng usaping nagaganap sa Oslo: sinisikap ng estado at ng militanteng grupong lutasin ang 45 taong tunggaliang umangkin ng laksa-laksang buhay at tumupok sa milyon-milyong pisong ari-arian. Estatistika lamang sila sa mga pahina ng kasaysayan, ngunit dala nila ang mga alaala ng pagiging mamamayang minsa’y nilupig ng bayang mahirap – ng kapwa mahirap. ■

The post Tugon sa Tunggalian appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

Ilustration by Guia Abogado

■ Sanny Boy Afable

Had it not been for the popular uprising in EDSA thirty years ago, we could still have been living in the golden age—a long period of stability and prosperity despite threats of communist insurgency and Moro secessionism. And so, to avoid bloodshed, the longest-serving president and architect of the New Society Ferdinand E. Marcos had to step down from his office after 21 years of invaluable service to the nation.

This is the version advanced by the present Official Gazette of the Republic of the Philippines, the “official repository of government documents” run under the Office of the President. Apparently, this version of history contradicts the version held by many, who decried the Gazette’s claim and described it as “historical revisionism.”

This revision leaves on the ash heap of history the memory of those who stood up to the dictatorship. As with all conventional accounts dominated by the Aquino-Marcos rivalry, the elite—not the people—is the protagonist of this narrative.

Story-telling

Filipinos already had a concept of “kasaysayan” that is rooted in indigenous culture long before the country was colonized, said Jaime Veneracion of the UP Department of History. “Kasaysayan ang tawag natin sa isang makabuluhang paglalarawan ng nakaraang salinlahi […] Ang kabuluhan ay nakatuon sa isang tiyak na grupo,” he explained.

Being a complex chain of narratives with a “writer” and intended readers, history is thus open to discourse. Throughout history, dominating historical interpretations have always been questioned and, in fact, revised to create more accurate accounts of the past. When the friars took it as a matter of historical truth that the Filipino are indolent and backward, Jose Rizal belied this claim by digging up the history of advanced pre-colonial societies in the Philippines.

In the neutral sense of the word, revisionism is thus a legitimate process of writing history. But it has gained a negative connotation after World War II when holocaust denialists called themselves “holocaust revisionists.” Historical revisionism is now used interchangeably with “historical negationism,” to mean the attempt to negate widely accepted versions of history, or even to deny facts, as in the case of Marcos revisionism.

The underlying issue with historical revisionism is not the attempt to rewrite history per se. It is that forces—often members of the political or economic elite—clash over the power to frame the many narratives in the past in order to serve their own interests.

The victors’ narrative

As a subjective understanding of the past, history has many faces. Marcos loyalists choose to focus on the superficial infrastructures built during the “golden age,” while liberals recount how they restored and championed “democracy.” In this sense, history does not simply mirror power relations in the pastꟷit is also shaped by them.

The traditional function of history was to “speak the right of power” or to secure the victor’s dominance, Michel Foucault said in “Society Must Be Defended.” Such was the case with Martial Law, having been explained by Marcos as a ploy to impede the “threat” of communist “insurgents.” However, the spike in recruitment for the New People’s Army came after Martial Law was declared, due largely to Marcos’ abuses.

This version of history, according to Foucault, has only served the interests of masters, monarchies, empires, or in the case of martial law history, the rival elite powers. It ignores at large a past of “dark servitude and forfeiture”—the many narratives of oppression and struggle that the nation witnessed under the dictatorship and which continue to exist today.

These grand narratives, to cite, ignore that three decades since the dictator was overthrown, people are still arrested for their political expression; farmers remain landless and starving; and indigenous peoples are evicted from their lands to give way to foreign investments.

These accounts of the people’s struggles challenge the elite’s picture of the past and the present, forming what Foucault called “counterhistory”—a “revisionism” of the victor’s history.

A history of the people

No less than President Rodrigo Duterte leads the open attempt to rewrite Martial Law history from the perspective of the Marcoses—one that runs counter to the story of the people. Despite strong opposition from many groups, the president still expressed his desire to bury the late dictator in the Libingan ng mga Bayani.

This shows that history is now deemed an antithesis of nation-building, when before it served as a guide and source of meaning. There are popular calls to “move on” from remembering Martial Law as it supposedly divides the nation and impedes progress. This view dangerously distorts our identity as a nation nourished by a sense of history.

The lack of critical understanding of the people’s narratives stems from versions of history that are untold from the Filipino people’s point of view. Popular narratives of Martial Law history fall short to emphasize the long and brutal mile it took before the “peaceful revolution” in EDSA.

The Campaign Against the Return of the Marcoses to Malacanang (CARMMA), a multi-sectoral network of Martial Law victims and dissenters, explains that many people think the dictatorship years were “the golden years of our country’s history [because they are] unaware of the terrible prices at which they came.” This is due to the lack of discussion in popular history books and syllabi. According to CARMMA, these “have never been changed to include the other side of the Martial Law era.”

Ultimately, attempts to write and rewrite history should always be anchored on the experiences and material reality of the people, and not on the deified icons who are evidently invested in how history is shaped. This history will serve not only to narrate the past but also to fuel the people’s struggles in the present. ■

The post (RE)VISIONED: The contradicting views of a national history appeared first on Philippine Collegian.

Illustration by Guia Abogado

■ Andrea Joyce Lucas

Late in August this year, a trailer started circulating online. It featured a hooded figure holding a mechanized bow, with a quiver full of arrows strapped on his thigh. This new superhero from GMA claims himself to be the new face of justice, a defender in the midst of the smoke-filled city plagued with crime. He calls himself Alyas Robin Hood.

But even before the show aired, netizens were quick to label the new show a rip-off of the The CW Network hit series Arrow. In responding to vocal critics, writer Suzette Doctolero passionately defended the show, arguing that it does not take inspiration from Arrow, but from the “masterplot” of the “vigilante figure,” the British folk figure Robin Hood.

But it seems that it was not only the masterplot of the vigilante figure at work, but another masterplot of a different kind—the formula of a show saleable and viable for mass consumption.

Something borrowed

Doctolero defended Alyas Robin Hood by insisting that, because it is a modern Filipino retelling of the Robin Hood folktale, it could not just have been a rip-off. Both Arrow and Alyas Robin Hood, after all, derive their stories from the British masterplot.

A masterplot is a “recurrent skeletal story, belonging to cultures and individuals that play a powerful role in questions of identity, values, and understanding of life,” said Porter Abbott, professor of literary theory at the University of California. Masterplots often work in secret—a story or an author could be using a particular masterplot unwittingly, he added.

There were only a handful of masterplots in the world that we use again and again, Doctolero said in defense of Alyas Robin Hood. Many artists and creators, however, disagree. For them, the look and feel of Alyas Robin Hood along with the timing of airing the show was still suspect, as it appears to feed on the popularity of Arrow among Filipino fans.

Masterplot is said to work in secret because each iteration becomes a fresh take on the skeletal story. Doctolero thus undermines her own defense—there is an insistence on using a masterplot but no mention of any new things that Alyas Robin Hood adds to the table. The argument is thus a thinly veiled attempt to conceal how the show depends on the promise of a tried and tested formula.

Ratings reign supreme

The production of local TV shows is mostly all about “pegs” that are trending and popular, said Carljoe Javier, managing editor of Anino comics and professor at the Ateneo de Manila University. He recounted his experience as a consultant for a show, “It was frustrating because you get tied to some other concept, rather than trying to follow the spirit of the material you are working on.”

The lack of new things on popular television is tied in to how the content is bound by modes of production. Javier pointed out that the model of fast-moving consumer goods (FMCG) governs this production. “[Shows have to be] appealing to the market that’s being targeted by FMCG,” he said.

The primary target market for these “products” remains to be the poor, who continue to wield power in the ratings game. They are engaged, habitually watch television, and therefore the ideal consumer with whom profit could be ensured.

Theodor Adorno, in his seminal “The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception” said: “The entire practice of the culture industry transfers the profit motive naked onto cultural forms.” Products are tailored for mass consumption according to the ideology of the culture industry.

This results in the sameness evident in many local shows. “The autonomy of works of art, which of course rarely ever predominated in an entirely pure form, and was always permeated by a constellation of effects, is tendentially eliminated,” Adorno said.

New concepts and new stories rarely ever make it into production, because they do not fit preconceived notions of what sells. And the culture industry does not even need to defend itself from the charge of making shows only for profit—this is dismissed by saying that these shows are purely for entertainment anyway.

Potential rebirth        

In contrast, there has been a boom in television shows in the United States, brought about by the new ways people could watch them. Where before the TV industry is monopolized by a few major networks, cable channels and streaming sites like Netflix and Hulu have entered the picture. Cable and streaming services have not only made TV watching more flexible for the audience, these also contribute a variety of new shows to watch. Some of these shows have been immensely successful, like HBO’s Game of Thrones and Netflix’s Stranger Things.

In the Philippines, attempts to make creations more accessible via new distribution channels had been frustrated by profit. In 2014, the leading committee of the Cinemalaya Film Festival briefly made its films available on YouTube, before they were taken down because many filmmakers and studios involved decried the potential loss in profit.

The TV industry is likewise constrained by the monopoly of major networks, such as GMA and ABS-CBN. As they dominate the airwaves, we see TV shows with the same look and feel to them, starring the same actors and actresses again and again, rehashing formulas and remaking the same hit shows. Despite being a six-decade-old industry, TV remains riddled with cliché but marketable plots: the rags to riches tale, the case of switched identities, and the story of “rich boy meets poor girl.”

Finding an alternative to the usual offerings from mainstream media, a lot of independent performers and artists have emerged with creative ideas through more accessible channels. Some of them, like online personalities Mikey Bustos and Lloyd Cadena, utilize Facebook and YouTube to share content with their viewers. But as they gain more popularity, they are soon co-opted into the money-making scheme of mainstream media as new “talents.”

Mass media production is thus permanently crippled by the designs of profiteering. In order to raise its level, the industry must ultimately be liberated from the chokehold of business interests. Doctolero insisted on the relevance of Alyas Robin Hood because it highlights the figure of a social justice defender. But this figure will be more appreciable and the story more potent if only they were free from the masterplot of marketable media. ■

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