The Day the People Sang
The opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily correspond with the viewpoints of the Collegium Perulae Orientis.
“Right now, it's hot as fuck. I'm pissed off, and I hope they start killing people soon, honestly,” said FGW (pseudonym), a 19-year-old Political Science student from the Ateneo de Manila University, calmly in his remarks that day.
It was all quiet on the eastern front of Metro Manila. Still, everyone knew what was to transpire amidst that peaceful Sunday morning. The motorcycle rider I booked to get to Luneta Park even commented on the rally. When we passed by the House of Representatives in Quezon City, he snidely remarked that the rallies should have been held “there.”
Nevertheless, by 9AM, I jogged across the park gates. The tide of people compacted together as we all flocked to the venue. Everyone came prepared. Students from the most prominent universities in the NCR, all the way to students from the Visayas and Ilocos regions—and even biker gangs south of Luzon—came equipped with placards, costumes, speakers, flags, but most of all, spirit.
“Fuck the government. We should start killing people real soon, and be wary of opposition,” FGW replied as I gathered his opinions on the matter. He concluded that the most privileged of the youth could and should play a part in all of this, particularly mentioning the students of the Ateneo. “Maybe kids of important people do give a shit. And hopefully, those kids of important people soon themselves become those important people and actually do change shit for the better.”
Another student addressed the struggles others faced in trying to participate in youth protests. “Bakit tayo nagkakaroon ng consequences when we want to voice out against the oppression here in the Philippines?" (Why should we face consequences for wanting to voice out against the oppression here in the Philippines?), said an anonymous Legal Management sophomore from the University of Santo Tomas—also a member of the UST chapter of the Kabataan Partylist. She explained that some students have had their good moral conduct removed from their school records (necessary for graduation) when caught attending these kinds of protests.
Nevertheless, she exclaimed her pride in the fact that her school had now begun to subscribe to more “progressive” and “open-minded” outlooks regarding activism. "Kahit yung (university) administration namin, nasa EDSA sila ngayon, may sarili silang form of protest." (Even our university administration is at EDSA now, conducting their own form of protest).
Ultimately, she argued that this rally goes above and beyond petty squabbles between conflicting groups. “Hindi naman siya left vs right o secular vs non-secular. It's a class struggle. It's between the 99% and the 1% na nakaupo ngayon.” (This isn't even left vs right or secular vs non-secular. It's a class struggle. It's between the 99% and the 1% in positions now).
By the time the sun hit its peak, people from all walks of life had already encroached on the park’s grounds. Students, seniors, partylist representatives, performers, cosplayers, veterans, blue and white collar workers, and gangs held their respective banners and insignia.
“It's a mix of everyone here right now. There are leftists, there are the common people here, there are fucking Duterte supporters here, I'm pretty sure. There's just a whole bunch of people,” FGW added.
Truly, everyone's presence made a statement. It made a certain University of the Philippines alumnus (who wished to remain anonymous) reminisce on his days as a student activist in the 80s.
“Noong bata kami, hindi ganito karami. Ang pinakamalaking rally na nakita ko noong kabataan ko, noong pinatay si Ninoy. Kaunti kami noon! Kahit buong U-belt kasama namin, unti kami noon!” (When we were young, we weren’t this many. The biggest rally I saw back then was when Ninoy (Senator Benigno Aquino) was killed. We weren't a lot back then! Even with the entire University-belt joining us, we weren't much!)
Now he viewed the rallies now as the final reckoning. “Patay sila. Hindi nila kaya. Alam mo ‘yang mga yan nakita mo naman, diba? Sports car, may logo ng DPWH. Walang hiya talaga, eh. Iba yung nakawan kita ng hindi mo alam, pero yung mag-t-tshirt pa ako ng ‘Huy! Ninakawan kita, manigas ka diyan!’, diba?” (They're dead meat. They can't handle this. You saw those lot, didn't you? Sports cars with the Department of Public Works and Highways logos. No shame at all! It's different when I steal from you without you knowing, but when I wear a shirt saying 'Hey! I stole from you! Drop dead!', see?)
He argued that this was the prime time for something to finally happen, considering the number of hardships Filipinos nationwide have experienced. “Noong panahon namin, may mga nagmamartsa na mga farmers mula Ilocos hanggang Maynila, makisama lang sa rally. Dapat ba ang Pilipino maghirap ng ganoon? Dapat ba ang Pilipino magmartsa mula Ilocos papunta rito (sa Maynila)? Ilang daang kilometro? Para marinig lang?” (Back in my day, farmers from Ilocos used to march to Manila just to join the rallies. Should Filipinos really suffer like that? Should Filipinos march from Ilocos to here (Manila)? Hundreds of kilometers? Just to be heard?)
He continued to rant on his woes with the government. “Diba ang trabaho ng gobyerno ay bigyan lahat ng inspirasyon at oportunidad - lahat ng citizen? So that they can be the best they can be? Ganun dapat, diba? Eh, anong nangyari? Uminom ka soft drinks—Tax. Bumili ka ng bahay—Tax. Mamatay ka—Tax! Puro tax! Para saan napupunta? Sportscar ng mga ulol!” (Isn't it the government's job to give everyone inspiration and opportunity to every citizen? So that they can be the best they can be? Shouldn't that be the case? Then, what happened? You drink soda—Tax. You buy a house—Tax. You die—Tax! Everything's taxed! And where does it all go? To the sports cars of those dipshits!)
Nevertheless, he ended our conversation with hope and an extraordinarily impassioned declaration for a man his age. “Masaya ako! Dahil ito, lahat ng Pilipino. Ako, hanggang kaya ko, pupunta ako!” (I'm happy! Cause the Filipinos are all here! As for me, I'll be joining these [rallies/protests] while I still can!)
By 10:00 AM, the area surrounding the Rizal Monument was jam-packed. Speakers repeated the cry “Makibaka! Huwag matakot!” (Let's surmount! Don't be afraid!) and “Ikulong na yan! Mga kurakot!” (Send them to jail! Those corrupt fucks!) Groups were selling merchandise that was self-referential and sarcastic for many. Gen Z humor was on full display for specific banners and placards brought by youths.
University-wide organizations and teachers' groups waved their flags in the air. Ice cream vendors and homeless kids were even caught within the ocean of protesters. Fortunately, a significant body of medical professionals was attentive at the scene. It could not be understated that every sector of society was here. I got to talk to Ricky Antonio, President of the Alliance of Health Workers (AHW), on why his organization decided to attend.
“Instead na magtatrabaho ang ating kapwang Pilipino (rito), umaalis sila sa ating bansa. Ano ang dahilan? Sa kadahilanan na napakaliit ng sweldo.” (Instead of our fellow Filipinos working here, they leave the country. And what's the reason? The reason is wages are ridiculously low here.)
“Sinasabi ng gobyerno na napakaganda ng ekonomiya ng ating bansa, ngunit bakit naghihikahos ang mga ordinaryong Pilipino?” (The government says our economy is so good, but why are ordinary Filipinos so impoverished?)
Nevertheless, when asked why he still chooses to work in the Philippines, despite the alluring benefits provided in foreign nations, he had this to say: “Napakasarap kasi maglingkod sa ating bansang Pilipinas, lalong-lalo na kung itataas ang sweldo ng mga health workers, mga nurses, mga doctor-kapiling pa natin ang ating mahal sa buhay, ang ating mga pamilya.” (Serving our country is just that satisfying, more so if they increase the wages of health workers, nurses, doctors, and to be with our loved ones, our families.)
As the heat had begun to test the endurance of attendees, he assured us that his organization would stay to serve the sick and affected, ultimately declaring the resolve of everyone present. “Kahit napaka-init, kahit gutom na gutom na, pero nabubusog tayo. Dahil nakikita natin ang pagkakaisa ng mga mamamayang Pilipino upang labanan ang korapsyon sa ating bansa!” (Even if it's hot, even if we're all outright starving, we're all full, because we see the unity of our Filipino brethren against corruption!)
But conflict had already begun to seep into the event as a man arrived denouncing the Luneta rally as a front laid by Leftists to divert from the actual battle that was to be held at Mendiola Street. He shouted and invited people to join him. He ultimately left as he was cursed at by bystanders and organization members.
A similar incident took place not so long after, when a woman appeared asking people about the purpose of the rally. When asked, she explained that she thought the Luneta rally was meant to express support for President Ferdinand “BongBong” Marcos, Jr.
Nevertheless, these cases did not detract from the energy spread among the participants. The crowd erupted into cheers and celebration as friends and allies shared greetings, followed by rappers and performers singing ballads and preaching sermons against corruption in what would end up as a mini-concert.
After the Luneta program ended, I headed to the Mendiola Peace Arch for the supposed “extension” of the Luneta protest. When I arrived, not a single protester was there. But the streets were already swarmed with crowds of police, with officers on motorcycles patrolling the area. Soon after, I left to go to the day's last stop: EDSA Shrine.
The ride to EDSA was a rather dreary one. The clouds had already darkened by then. Whatever humid blaze the sun had emanated merely an hour ago was blotted out entirely. As I saw the crowd move from EDSA shrine to the People Power Monument, raindrops drizzled down on everybody’s heads. And then the rain began to fall upon the thousands of people wedged between the slurry of cars and fences on the sidewalk. At that point, thousands stood in the rain, unrelentingly pushing forward towards the monument.
That multitude was composed of many people, possibly more diverse than the crowd at Luneta. In addition to those who had already appeared at Luneta, a significant proportion of the crowd was made up of various religious groups: lay organizations, seminarians, Benedictine nuns, Dominican priests, members of the UP Student Catholic Action, Couples for Christ, the National Coalition for the Family and the Constitution, and the Opus Dei.
The private sector was also present. Members of the Philippine Stock Exchange (PSE) were spotted participating in the protest. Ironically, despite the harshness of the rain, the people’s spirits burned even brighter in EDSA. The atmosphere was contagious. For a brief period, I was beside one of the snare drummers, joining in the chants for anti-corruption.
The Kabataan and Akbayan partylists made prominent appearances. Celebrities and politicians arrived in droves. Among the contributors to the event were Former Commissioner of the Commission on Audit (COA) Heidi Mendoza and Former Chief Justice Maria Lourdes Sereno.
Chief Justice Sereno shared a statement with the Collegium. “We need to unite for this issue, because this is an issue that is close to God's heart. Ayaw na ayaw niya yung ninanakawan ang taong-bayan. Dapat unahin talaga ang mga mahihirap. So let us unite, ano man ang pinanggalingan natin. This is our fight for the next generation.” (We need to unite on this issue because it is close to God's heart. He really doesn't like having people being stolen from. We should prioritize the poor. So let us unite, regardless of background. This is our fight for the next generation.)
Whereas Heidi Mendoza—the relatable woman she is to the people—came up on stage, delivered a speech, and then proposed policies for the legislature. Among the proposed policies was one that would ensure transparency among DPWH officials and engineers. Mendoza then argued for the relevance of such a policy and the need for public works projects to be audited correctly.
Beside them, a crowd of Devoted Duterte Supporters (DDS) organized their program, pleading the case of the former president. The other camps that witnessed them booed in conjunction with the cheers they then gave to the anti-corruption camp.
The concert continued with a ubiquitous song, “Upuan” by Gloc 9, a song detailing the hardships of the impoverished—who are well aware of the contrast in lifestyle between them and the rich and powerful.
The EDSA program ended relatively peacefully, with both camps proceeding to banter, curse, and enrage one another. However, ultimately, no serious conflict ensued.
That could not be said towards the final development of the night.
At approximately 4PM, a violent riot broke out in the streets of Mendiola (“ground zero”) all the way to Recto. Gangs and individuals positioned themselves on the roads to commit an all-out assault upon the police stationed thereto. Bottles and rocks were flung, and Molotov cocktails thrown, as a hotel was ransacked. Both rioters and police sustained minor to severe injuries due to the onslaught of violence, and a police officer was hospitalized.
Many had something to say about the events which unfolded that night. “These anarchists will soon realize that being one is not as fun when inside Manila City Jail", declared Atty. Michael Henry Yusingco, a Senior Research Fellow of the Ateneo Policy Center, referring to their eventual indictment for destruction of property and assault on law enforcement.
At this point in time, the motivation and rationale behind the riots remain unclear. Who instigated the fight? Officials are still investigating. The Mayor of Manila, Mayor Francisco "Isko" Moreno Domagoso, suspended classes and enforced tight curfews for minors in response to the mayhem out in the streets. He said in a Facebook post: "Ganito binaboy ng mga mobster ang Maynila!" (Here is how the mobsters sullied Manila!), sharing photos of vandalized stop lights and LED billboards.
On account of these developments, public perception soured towards certain activist groups involved in the demonstrations. Furthermore, due to the insurmountable expense of taxpayer money needed to repair damages, many wonder whether these riots were indeed effective, or were merely mindless displays of violence brought on by frustration and poverty.
It is still too early to tell what this day has brought upon the nation. Whether these events will spark a larger flame that shall carry on through the coming months, or remain a brief stint that Filipinos will forget eventually, one thing is for sure: rarely did everyone in the nation come together for a single day as they did last Sunday, September 21.
Will this be the biggest story of the month? That will be answered come next week.