Today marks the 50th anniversary of when martial law was signed into law by Ferdinand Marcos back in 1972. I don't normally post about these things, but in this age of misinformation, disinformation, and social media, I think it's important to talk about these things again.
A lot of people who know more than me, who write better than me, and who lived through martial law for far longer than I had are probably better suited to write about this period in Philippine history. I was born in 1983, technically a year after martial law ended, but Marcos' grip on power never loosened. After Ninoy was killed in the then-Manila International Airport, this fomented the resentment of the Pinoys (mostly the middle class) against the first family. This eventually led to the 1986 Snap Elections and, subsequently, the 1986 EDSA revolution, which cemented our country's dedication to democracy. And here ends my very quick, one-paragraph refresher of the events around martial law.
Why do I mention this? Because, while I don't have much recollection of what happened back in the 80s (I was three years old when EDSA happened), my elders would talk. I would hear stories about life back during the Japanese occupation (my grandmother), and during martial law (my parents and siblings).
Let's get one thing clear: back then, we were decidedly very middle class. With both my parents working, we did not want much. But my parents had to make changes to their groceries and the food in the house when martial law came along. I remember dad talking about a point in the 1970s when our country experienced a rice shortage (there was a rice famine back then, apparently, and people have gone on to debunk this as historical revisionism since the rice shortage wasn't because of martial law; I leave the judgment of this to better, more learned individuals) and he had to buy corn rice as a substitute. And more recently, my sister recalled the time when dad would make baguette sandwiches for the family in advance, as opposed to buying food from outside for their school meals.
These are small things compared to what other people experienced throughout martial law. A lot of people died for their beliefs. Even more were put into prison. But it was stories like these that gave me a glimpse of how things were during martial law within my own familial microcosm. And it feels unthinkable for me, mostly due to the fact that I had come to expect a certain level of comfort when it came to how my family was back in the day. And it's mind-boggling. Just think about it. If a family with some privilege would have to make these adjustments, what would a family of lesser means have to do? Does this mean that instead of eating square meals three times a day, they'd have to make do with two? Does it mean that some folks would actually have to starve?
A lot of people did not mind martial law when it first came into being. And, as Butch Dalisay wrote in his post, the people against martial law were far outnumbered - back then, and today still - by those who were indifferent or supportive of the regime. But this only strengthens my resolution that we need to keep talking about these things. The debate is never-ending, and might actually never really end. But that's not the point here. We need to keep talking about these things because people need to have an opinion, and people need to talk about these opinions in order to make sure that, for good or ill, the bad things that happened never happen again.
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