Reflection on the EDSA Anniversary 2023 delivered at EDSA Shrine on a symposium organized by Clergy for Moral Choice (Part I)
Tatlumpo’t pitong taon nang nakaraan, marami sa atin dito ay nakatayo na sa lugar na ito. Bago pa man nila ginawa ang simbahang ito, banal na ang lupang kanyang kinatatayuan. Dito natin pinigil ang mga tangkeng kanilang ipinadadala upang lipulin ang kanyang bayan. Wala tayong sandata. Ang dala-dala natin ay mga crusipijo, mga rebolto ni Maria, Santo Nino, Santo Entierro, at kung ano pang meron tayo. Dito din sa lugar na ito, binigyan ng bulaklak ng isang three-year old boy ang isang armadong sundalo. Dito din sa lugar na ito, hinarang ng mga madre ang mga tangke habang nagdarasal ng rosaryo.
EDSA has become a sacred ground for us, not only because of these “sacred objects” that we brought but because it is here that God liberated his people. It is here that God appeared. Dito natin ipinakita na maari nating ipaglaban ang ating kalayaan sa isang mapayapang paraan. Dito natin ipinakita na sa pamamagitan ng ating pananampalataya, maaring baguhin ng Diyos ang ating bayan.
I was then a young seminarian, three years away from my ordination. I want to say this today: EDSA People Power was not a spur of the moment thing. Hindi lang sa panawagan ni Cardinal Sin, kaya tayo’y pumunta dito. Maraming taon ang dumaan bago mangyari ang EDSA. High school pa kami noon, ang dami na naming narinig na pinatay, tinortyur at nangawala. Pero dahil kontrolado ang news sa panahon ni Marcos, mahirap mabalitaan ang mga karanasan na ating narinig ngayon. At dahil uhaw kami sa news, pinag-aagawan namin ang mga mimeographed leaflets na aming pinagpapasa-pasahan.
Hindi bago ang red-tagging. Dati na yan. Church premises were raided for so-called subversive materials. Many priests, religious and lay church workers were killed or just disappeared. Yong nag-recruit sa akin sa pagpapari na si Fr. Rudy Romano, isang Redemptorist, nawala na lang at hindi na nakita hanggang sa ngayon.
So when Marcos declared snap elections 1986, we felt there was a ray of hope. We volunteered for vote watching with NAMFREL. Wala pang PPCRV noon. Kasama ang ibang mga madre at seminarista, doon ako na-assign sa Malabon-Caloocan area. Naranasan kung dumapa na lang dahil nagkabarilan sa aming presinto. Pero hindi kami natakot. Itinaya namin ang aming buhay upang bantayan ang bawat balota. Na-iimagine nyo ba ang scenario na ito: 8-10 madre, seminarista at layko ang nagkakapis-bisig paligid sa isang ballot box. Ganon ka “close-guarding” hanggang makarating sa COMELEC sa City Hall. We felt then that each ballot was sacred, and we were willing to risk our lives for it.
Ibang-ibang na ngayon! In the last election, our votes just disappeared on transparency servers in split seconds without us knowing where to watch. Pagkatapos ng isang oras, uwian na, may nanalo na!
In 1986, when 35 computer encoders at PICC went out in protest, we knew something fishy was going on. Sa takot nila, nagtago sila sa Baclaran at baka anong mangyari sa kanila.
So when Cardinal Sin called us to EDSA, people did not hesitate to go. I can still vividly remember that night. After the Mass, we announced that we are organizing for EDSA. More than half of our small congregation went with us, bringing their kids, their own cars, food, images, etc. Sa totoo lang handa kami kahit ilang araw na walang uwian, walang bihisan.
I started with this personal narrative because today that peaceful movement of people’s faith is revised, maligned and demonized. It was not a political party that brought us here. It was not ideology that brought us here — be it leftist or rightist. I did not come to EDSA for the “oligarchs” (now called the “yellows”), most of whom we do not personally know. In fact, at that time, “yellow” was not about the Liberals. Cory Aquino ran under the PDP-Laban, the same party where Duterte also ran later. For us, “yellow” was primarily a color of protest. Our faith sensibility tells us that something was wrong with the Marcos government.
To put it simply, I came to EDSA because of my faith. It was our faith that moved us and made us place our lives on the line. Our cry was: “Tama na. Sobra na. Palitan na.” It was the cry of the prophets. That is why this ground is sacred to us no matter how the trolls and the past and present governments would like to delete it from our memory.
At this moment (37 years after), I am now a theology professor on weekdays. But on weekends, I help my brother Vincentians in our parish in Payatas. Para sa mga nakapunta doon, marami pong problema sa Payatas. Pero simula noong 2016, nagkaroon kami ng problemang hindi naming napaghandaan — extrajudicial killings.
Ang dami pong pinatay sa Payatas. May dala-dala silang drug list. Papasok sa mga barung-barong, hahanapin ang mga tao na yon, at babarilin ng ganon na lamang. May kasamang pang planted shabu. Naalala ko pa naglilibing kami noon ng 8-10 sampung patay linggo-linggo. May isa doon, binaril pagkatapos niyang magluto ng spaghetti para sa birthday ng kanyang anak. Binaril siyang nakaluhod sa harapan nila. May isang barkada noon, nagluto-luto dahil day-off nila sa tambakan. Pinasok ng mga pulis, tinalian ang kanilang mga kamay at isa-isang binaril. Pagkatapos ay kinain pa ng mga pulis ang niluto ng kanilang mga pinatay. Ang hindi nila alam may isang pang buhay doon at nagpapatay-patayan. Tulad noong Martial Law, sinabi ng mga Nanay: “Tama na. Sobra ba. Awat na.”
These widows, mothers and orphans are the prophets of our time. They have banded together to bring up their children with nothing, literally nothing, but their faith alone.
Father Daniel Franklin Pilario, C.M., is a theologian, professor, and pastor of an urban poor community in the outskirts of the Philippine capital. He is also Vincentian Chair for Social Justice at St. John’s University in New York. The opinions and views expressed in this article are those of the authors. They do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of LiCAS News or its publishers.
