A brave, angry world
Wading though my Facebook newsfeed in the past few days, I witnessed through a series of photos and videos the revolt of Americans against their own police force.
George Floyd, an African-American from Minneapolis, died on May 26 while in the custody of members of the Minneapolis police department. The arrest was conducted on the corner of 38th Street and Chicago Avenue just outside the Dragon Wok Restaurant.
Floyd’s death came as a result of an officer — Derek Chauvin— kneeling on his neck for roughly nine to ten minutes despite the cries, “I can’t breathe”.
Hong Kong, too, has been hogging the headlines: students as young as 16 to 17 being tear-gassed, bludgeoned by police batons, and cuffed for dissenting against Beijing’s move to introduce a law that would “undermine judicial independence and endanger dissidents” as reported by BBC News.
These images are stark reminders of a childhood steeped in lies, murder, and the brazen cruelty of people in power.
I was a day shy of turning nine when dictator Ferdinand E. Marcos placed the whole country under martial law in Sept. 1972. His reason? The nation was allegedly being overrun by communists. Two years prior, in 1970, the First Quarter Storm had erupted, a series of protests and demonstrations marking the growing civil unrest against the Marcos regime.
My introduction into a world too corrupt and violent to be ignored arrived on Dec. 1972, roughly three months after Proclamation No. 1081.
My grandfather, Jose Pablo, took a much-needed break from work to watch the six o’clock news. I recall leaping onto his lap as he slumped on his chair as a shot of cognac warms in his hand.
Right there and then, I saw a man in a dark suit lunge at the First Lady Imelda Marcos with a bolo while the latter was winding down her speech.
At nine, I understood little of what was happening. I turned to my grandfather, who was obviously shocked at what he saw, and asked, “Why is that man trying to hurt that beautiful lady?” I found out years later that the assassin was a certain geodetic engineer who went by the name Carlito Dimahilig. He was killed by presidential security forces shortly after his failed attempt.
Growing up, I began to understand why. By declaring martial law, Marcos had turned the country into a police state. The next nine years saw the military regime arrest, execute and assassinate dissidents, critics, students, journalists, rebels, poets and intellectuals, any and all who’d dare cross the path of Marcos. Many to this day, mostly student leaders, remain desaparecido.
Behind the violence and carnage, Marcos and his cronies looted the country for all it was worth. The scare tactic was, in fact, a smokescreen to cloak the dictator’s true intention. At the end of each day, these suave men of smooth words and impressive education were mere felons and thieves, not the political and intellectual giants their loyalists hailed them to be.
It was at this time when my feelings for officers in uniform and people in power in general turned none too friendly. Shortly after reaching college, I began joining protest marches to oust Marcos.
The next several administrations were no different. They have all stained their hands with the blood of the innocent through the help of police and military forces. Mendiola massacre happened under Corazon Aquino’s watch, the Maguindanao massacre under Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, and the Kidapawan massacre under Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino.
Former President Fidel V. Ramos, then a lieutenant general and acting Armed Forces chief of the Marcos regime, was blamed for the deaths of 20 human rights protesters when police opened fire at a peaceful demonstration.
The Associated Press’ report on what is now called the Escalante massacre said, “It is believed to be the worst protest violence under Marcos’ 20-year rule. The soldiers said they fired only after they were attacked by the demonstrators. The dead were shot either in the back or the side, indicating they were fired at while fleeing, the Escalante fact-finding Committee, a joint military and civilian body, said in its report.”
Incumbent President Rodrigo Roa Duterte tops them all with the Patikul Massacre (the brutal killing of seven Tausug farmers in Sept. 2018), several other killings which involved farmers from Mindanao, and the tens of thousands murdered without due process under Operation: Double Barrel, Duterte’s war on drugs. All this is a span of three years.
On the night of Aug. 17, 2017, in Caloocan City, 17-year-old Kian delos Santos was dragged out of his home, cuffed and brutally murdered by Caloocan policemen at a small empty lot while begging “Tama na, po” (“Please stop…”). According to police, Kian was a suspect in an ongoing investigation in the area related to illegal drugs.
A lower court verdict found out that the policemen had lied, proving that the young boy had been murdered helplessly while in the custody of the officers.
As for the desaparecido, close to 2,000 cases of enforced disappearances have been reported since the time of Marcos.
How and when policemen have turned rogue is anybody’s guess. They’ve been charged with everything from felony to rape, murder, and more recently the solicitation of sexual favors in exchange for a quarantine travel pass.
George Floyd’s murder in Minneapolis was just one of a long string of brutal human rights violations by cops against black people in a country that prides itself with its Bill of Rights. Police brutality, which is also prevalent in Hong Kong, has put much of the tourist destination at the edge of its seat.
To be fair, some police officers in various states reportedly sided with the demonstrators, taking the knee in protest of the killing of Floyd. However, it stands to reason at this point that these officers should not stop at mere symbolism. They should find concrete ways to put a stop to police brutality once and for all.
How long with the revolts last (yes, I call them revolts, not riots)? Your guess is as good as mine. Violence breeds violence for the mere fact that oppressors do not deserve the people’s patience and magnanimity. For far too long black people have been pushed to a corner. Resistance — more so, violent resistance — is inevitable.
This much is certain: so long as police officers side with oppressors, so long as people in uniform take up the cudgels for criminals in power, and wear violence and brutality as a badge, our present and future will remain a brave, angry world.
These felons with badges should prepare to reap the whirlwind.
