Towards an HIV/AIDS-free society

Privilege speech I delivered yesterday, 2 December 2013, at the House of Representatives.

—

Mr. Speaker, I rise today to speak before this House, to both commemorate and call to action.

Yesterday, December 1, marked the 25^th year of the observance of World AIDS Day.

I know many of our colleagues may wonder, why talk about HIV/AIDS now, when so many other concerns, some perhaps more urgent or compelling, face our nation and this Congress? In the face of issues concerning PDAF – or the absence thereof, post-Yolanda reconstruction, climate change policy, and the continuing campaign against poverty, it is tempting to brush aside the issue of HIV/AIDS and to consider it as “not a priority.”

But it is precisely this attitude of relative indifference that has brought us to the alarming juncture where we are today, where 25 years after the global community has declared an all-out campaign to combat HIV/AIDS and 15 years after we enacted our own AIDS prevention law, the increase in reported cases of HIV/AIDS has hit terrifying figures – 4,072 new cases since January of this year, 491 cases in October alone, out of the 15,774 total cases reported since 1984. That means 25.8% of all HIV/AIDS cases in the last three decades were reported in the first ten months of this year.  

I therefore rise this afternoon not only to join the rest of the world in commemorating World AIDS Day but also to talk about some of the urgent issues related to HIV/AIDS that I believe we must take up.

This time presents us with the opportunity to examine our substantial progress in the battle against the HIV and AIDS pandemic and to reaffirm our commitment to achieving an HIV/AIDS-free society. We also remember those we have lost, encourage those who continue to suffer, and lend support to their family and friends who, in many cases unfortunately, continue to bear the unfair and misguided discrimination of society.

The year 1998 marked the beginning of our country’s declaration of war against the disease with the passage of RA 8504, also known as, The Philippine AIDS Prevention and Control Act of 1998, a national comprehensive plan of preventing the spread of the disease within the populace. It outlined the necessary tools and strategy needed by the government to prevent the occurrence of new infections, control its transmissions, make available the necessary care and treatment to the victims and protect the rights of the HIV/AIDS victims and key populations at higher risk to the infection. A coordinated national response against the disease was also established through the creation of the Philippine National AIDS Council (PNAC).

In the 15 years since the enactment of the AIDS law, government worked to elevate the nation’s awareness of the disease, supported studies that aimed to reduce its transmission, and built ties with various NGOs, community groups, and international agencies to help curb the increasing trend of infections. The 1998 AIDS Law intended to curb and stabilize the spread of HIV and AIDS in the country was, in fact, hailed as “best practice” by the international community.

In addition, as signatory to the United Nations Millennium Development Goals (UNMDG), we made a commitment to halt the spread of HIV infection and to begin reducing its incidence in the country by 2015.

In the global arena, UNAIDS reports show that 95% out of 186 countries are on track with their MDG on HIV/AIDS. This marked a pivotal juncture in the worldwide effort of curbing and halting the spread of the disease. There has been a downward global trend in new cases of HIV/AIDS victims at the turn of the millennium, as 77 countries had either stabilized or reduced HIV infections within their territories—an indicator that the world may soon make the zero-infections, zero-deaths and zero-discrimination UN political declaration on HIV/AIDS an achievable reality.

These positive developments in the global arena, unfortunately, are not reflective of the current state of affairs in our country. Despite the 1998 law, and the efforts undertaken in pursuit of its goals, a triumph against HIV/AIDS is not yet within sight, as number of new HIV infections continue to expand rapidly. When the AIDS bill was enacted in 1998, HIV/AIDS victims were numbered at 189. This figure was more than doubled by 2008 as recorded cases reached a total of 528. By 2012, HIV/AIDS reached a staggering total of 3,338 cases.

Prior to 2008, HIV prevalence in the Philippines was considered “low and slow”, with only one new HIV infection being reported per day. Five years after, the tide has completely turned. HIV prevalence has now become “fast and furious”. In August of this year, reported new HIV cases increased to 16 per day, or 1 new case per 1.5 hour. This means that by the time this assemblage is adjourned at 7PM, there will be 13 new reported cases of HIV infection, with 2 new cases being reported as we conduct this session.

The radical upward surge on the HIV/AIDS situation in the country, thus, requires that we bring this issue to the forefront of the Congressional agenda.

Accomplishing the goal of an AIDS-free society requires us to reconfigure our knowledge and understanding of the subject, scrutinize the emerging trends and developing dynamics within the population afflicted with HIV/AIDS and craft an up-to-date effective prevention and control response which takes into account the experiences of the last 15 years.

As I mentioned earlier, within this year alone, a total of 4,072 HIV/AIDS cases were already recorded. This is 40% higher compared to last year’s figure of the same period and a thousandfold increase since the enactment of the AIDS law. Health experts have explained that the massive jump of infections is due to low use of condoms, multiple sexual partnerships among key populations at higher risk to infections, and unregulated sharing of needles among people with injecting drugs (PWID). Unprotected sex, in particular, doubles a person’s likelihood of contracting HIV and unregulated needle-sharing has become a major cause of transmission for the disease.

A closer look on the epidemic situation in the country reveals shifting trends and changing dynamics in the demographics of people affected by the disease. Out of the recorded four thousand plus HIV/AIDS cases this year, a hugely disproportionate distribution was apparent, in terms of geographic, gender and age. A huge concentration of the victims now are the young generation, belonging to the 20-29 year age bracket, predominantly male (95% of the total cases) and they are found mostly in NCR, Region 7 and 4A (Manila, Davao and Angeles, Pampanga). HIV prevalence within these regions are pegged at 5% or higher—surpassing the HIV prevalence within the general population. They are now flagged as priority areas that are in dire need of focused intervention on prevention, treatment, care and protection. Manila, for one, is of particular concern as it accounts for more than 50% of the total number of new HIV cases recorded this year.

Although sexual contact remains the dominant mode of virus-transmission, its main drivers have now changed faces. Prior to the turn of the millennium, females were considered the main drivers of the disease: specifically, those engaged in sex trade. Recent studies made by the Department of Health and various other international agencies reveal, however, that males having sex with other males (MSMs) now predominate. They comprise 80% of the total number of HIV cases in the country.

According to government epidemiologists, if nothing is done to address and reverse the existing conditions, HIV cases are projected at an all-time high of 45,000 by 2015. This bleak prediction should urge us to step up our game and meet the demands of the developing dynamics and changing conditions that continue to encourage the spread of the disease.

The fact that the disease afflicts less than one percent (<1%) of the general population should not deter us. We should not let the number fool us into treating this issue with a great degree of political comfort and complacency. Instead, this should challenge us to take firm actions to prevent the disease from becoming a full blown pandemic, as has happened in many countries. Prevention is better than cure, but for diseases such as HIV and AIDS that has irreversible infections and with no discovered cure, prevention is the cure.

The government has made progresses in areas such as: providing wider access to anti-retroviral treatment (ART), a treatment used to slow down the progress of HIV in the body to victims and the highly at-risk population; investments were placed on research aimed at reducing the spread of the disease; and, leveling up of the peoples’ knowledge of the disease were undertaken. The manner of discourse, however, is largely saddled by our country’s traditional values and culture. These considerations continue to prevent an open debate and discussion of the issue in the public arena, thus, limiting peoples’ understanding of the issue.

The continuing stigma and discrimination against HIV/AIDS victims and their family has also greatly hampered the achievement of a future that is AIDS-free. The shame, guilt, fear of alienation, discrimination and other perverse repercussions that come along with being identified with the disease pushes victims to hide their conditions, not seek treatment or disclose their status to their partners—thereby, increasing the likelihood of the spread of the disease.

I remember reading a news report back in 2010 about Rolly (not his real name), a person living with HIV, who worked as a dancer in a bar. In the article, he recounted the painful ordeal he encountered due to his condition. He related how, at his workplace, people living with HIV/AIDS like him were locked inside a room and those who served them food would kick it under the door. They were treated like outcasts. For people like them, discrimination and stigma is a harsh reality they have to live on every day. Another report published in 2008 told of the horrific experience by a family in Olongapo, who, after it was discovered that one of their family members was HIV positive, woke up to find a their house on fire. It was later found out that their neighbors, afraid of possibly catching the virus carried by their family member, colluded to torch their tiny hut.

Faced with an impending death, a hostile and discriminating society, it seems the story of ‘Rolly’ aptly describes the experience of living with AIDS—that the discrimination from the society against HIV/AIDS victims can be much more painful and fatal more than the virus itself.

We have made significant progress in other areas of our development goals. This time, let us channel this nation’s creativity in the serious fight against HIV/AIDS making good of our commitment in eliminating HIV/AIDS in our society. Let us ensure that no infections occur due to lack of information, or worse, misinformation, no death due to lack of treatment and no discrimination due to lack of understanding and compassion.

The nation must be equipped with the necessary information that will guide them to stay healthy and avoid the infection. Enough funding should be made available to aid the health sector provide the necessary quality and accessible prevention, treatment, care and support services to people living with HIV/AIDS and to those who are highly at-risk of contracting the virus.

It is time to open the debate and discussion of the issue in the public arena. There is a need to break the myths and misconceptions that surround the disease, which, consequently, breed stigma and discrimination from the society.

That is why, earlier today, I, with two other members of this distinguished House, the Honorable Teddy Brawner Baguilat of the Lone District of Ifugao, and the Honorable Lani Mercado-Revilla of the 2^nd District of Cavite, did our small part in attempting to lift the stigma attached to HIV/AIDS by undergoing voluntary HIV testing at the free clinic currently set up at the House of Representatives medical building. The clinic will be open for three days, and I urge all of you, my esteemed colleagues, to take the test, if only to show to our constituents and fellow Filipinos that there is nothing to fear, or to be ashamed of, insofar as these crucial preventive practices relating to HIV/AIDS are concerned.

The issue of HIV and AIDS is one that is not, and will never be, an exclusive topic that is reserved for the victims, their families and their friends. It is our issue too, as a nation and as a country striving for inclusive economic growth and development. It is our moral obligation and common mission to ensure that, in our journey toward progress, no one is left behind — not the poor, not the sick, not the old, not the weak. We should not let anyone fall between the gaps and inadequacies that characterize several of our laws and institutions. And to be willing and ready to lend a hand those who do.

I hope, my dear colleagues, that we will take up this challenge.

Thank you, Mr. Speaker, and good afternoon.

Statement during the Akbayan Press Conference, 16 October 2012

My (disrupted) statement at the Akbayan Press Conference on 16 October 2012. Got through the first nine paragraphs before hooliganism reared its ugly head. Finished the last three paragraphs, with their ironically appropriate message of mutual respect and cooperation, after the ruckus had died down.

And yes, I continue to believe we can, and should, work together, rather than trying to pull each other down.

—-

First off, I would like to congratulate our brave Bangsamoro brothers and sisters, as well as our determined peace negotiators for forging that most elusive peace agreement. There are lessons to be learned from all this and I will go back to that later. For now, I would like all of us to pause for a few moments and reflect on how important this peace is to our nation.

Imagine a Mindanao without war. Last year, most of us would have said that it was impossible. But now here we are. And I say it is great to be a Filipino in these extraordinary times. The future is exploding with possibility for this country.

Of course, we still have that Cybercrime Prevention Law to take care of. Akbayan is not taking it lying down. Media is not taking it lying down. And best of all, neither are hordes of new freedom activists online taking it lying down. Last week, Akbayan, through Congressman Walden Bello already filed a bill repealing cyberlibel and the other, equally onerous provisions of the controversial law. I guess we have Congress and Pnoy to thank for getting people to fight for their right to freedom of expression. That is the way democracy works after all. “If it’s good, it’s really good. And even when it’s bad, it’s still good.” I think I first heard that from Nelson Mandela he spoke at the University of the Philippines in 1997. I just took out the sex part.

Anyway, back to the topic in hand. There was a time when we would have been on the warpath the moment Anakbayan and the KMU called for Akbayan to be disqualified from the party-list system. They’re wrong, and again I’ll get back to this in a bit, but they did get one thing right: that Akbayan, after all, is no longer the political party that it once was.

Indeed, Akbayan has come a long way from being just a vehicle of marginalized sectors that had to scramble for precious votes come election time. Well, medyo nakausad-usad na kami sa Akbayan, though we will still be scrambling for votes next year. Kailangan pa rin naming kumayod at magtrabaho just like any group in the party-list.

Akbayan takes pride in being in a stronger position right now compared to when all our student activists, women advocates, trade unions, overseas workers, peasant organizations, fisherfolk, urban poor groups, LGBTs, and professionals came together to put up Akbayan in January 1998. Back then, we were only hoping to get into Congress. Now, we have two seats in the House of Representatives and are aiming to get the full complement. We call that hard work.

Akbayan also has this very, very small number of people in the executive. Anakbayan and the KMU have been very good to point them out, me included. But as of October 5, isa na akong former government employee. In fact, I am now officially unemployed, unless you count being Akbayan spokesperson as employment. So if you know of any available jobs out there, call me, maybe?

The way Anakbayan and the KMU see it, Akbayan individuals getting appointive positions in the executive is tantamount to mortal sin. Isang di mapapatawad na kasalanan. It isn’t mortal sin. It’s called coalition work. It is difficult but necessary for any contender in the party-list system. Therein lies progress, not only for Akbayan’s constituency, but for all marginalized sectors as well.

At this point I must insist on a reality check for Anakbayan and KMU. They simply overestimate the amount of influence Akbayan supposedly wields inside the Aquino government at this point. Mukhang naniniwala ata sila sa binanggit ni dating Chief Justice Corona na hawak naming sa leeg ang Presidente. Hindi po totoo yun. Akbayan is hardly the power behind the throne. Akbayan people within the executive are more like conscientious government employees, with low salaries and lots of work. Hard workers all and eager to serve. Our small presence in the current government has not changed who we fundamentally are – a party of citizens and activists coming from various sectors doing what we can to help build a better society, a better nation not only for the marginalized groups we represent but for all Filipinos.

RA 7941, or the party list law, never intended that parties representing the marginalized be forever barred from entering government, that would be self defeating. Those that do, though, should always continue to remain true to the interests of the sectors that they represent. And in it’s 14 years of existence, Akbayan has striven to do precisely this, in Congress, in government, and in the citizens’ movements to which it proudly traces its roots. And ultimately, this IS the spirit that animates the entire concept of the party list system and the party list law.

I am sure that all progressive forces within the party-list system share the same hope for this country, it’s just that our history, our failed political relationships, keep on getting in the way of our working together in the here and now. But I continue to hope and to wish that in my lifetime, we—Akbayan, Anakbayan, KMU, Kabataan, Bayan Muna, or what have you—will be able to finally dampen our differences, treat one another other with respect, and cooperate in ways that will benefit the sectors that form our political parties.

The Bangsamoro and the Government of the Republic of the Philippines
just did the impossible. So there is hope for us yet.

UPIS 2011 Commencement Speech

My speech at the UP Integrated School graduation held this afternoon.

—

Chancellor Saloma, Dean Ocampo, Dr. Zuñiga, Prof. Donkor, Dr. Tadena, Mga Mahal na Guro, Mga Magulang, Mga Bisita, Ang Mga Magsisipagtapos, Mga Kapwa Estudyante at Kaibigan, Magandang Hapon po sa inyong lahat.

Unang una maraming salamat sa pag-imbita sa akin na maging bahagi sa inyong pagtatapos. Isang malaking karangalan para sa akin ang pagkakataong magsalita dito ngayong hapon. Sa katotohanan, medyo kinakabahan nga ako. Kahit ako’y nakapag oral arguments na Supreme Court, nakipag-debate sa mga pulis sa loob mismo ng Camp Crame, at na-interview na nang napakaraming beses sa TV at sa radyo, iba pa rin talaga ang pakiramdam kapag kailangan mong magsalita sa harap ng mga guro na nung huli kang Makita ay 12 year old ka pa lamang.

Please allow me to start with a confession. Or to be more accurate, two confessions. First is that I never actually graduated from UPIS. Ayon nga sa programa, ako ay bahagi ng Batch 86 Elementary. I suppose this is a polite way of saying na sa ibang eskwelahan ako nag-high school. So actually, graduate ako ng Philippine Science. Pero bago niyo ako pag-babatuhin, bigyan niyo ako ng pagkakataong magpaliwanag. Gusto ko sana talagang mag-UPIS. Talaga. Walang biro. In fact, nagpunta na ako sa building natin dyan sa may Katipunan (na balita ko’y malapit na yatang maging Mall sa darating na mga buwan) para mag-enroll sa Grade 7. Pero, anong nangyari? Pinigilan ako ng ilan sa aking mga guro sa elem at pinilit kumbinisihin na lumipat sa Pisay. Sayang daw ang pagkakataon. So, mabigat man sa loob ko, di ako nag-UP nung high school. Hanggang ngayon pinagsisihan ko pa rin paminsan-minsan. Lalo na’t yung crush ko nung Grade 6 ay tumuloy sa UPIS…

Binawi ko naman pagkatapos ng high school. Pagkagradweyt ko, sa UP ako uli nag-aral. Kung titingnan natin ang buong kasaysayan ng aking pag-aaral, mula elem, hanggang kolehiyo, law school, at post grad, bukod sa apat na taon ko sa Pisay, at isang taon sa NYU, buong buhay ko bilang estudyante ay nasa UP ako. Kapag dinagdag ang sampung taon kong pagtuturo sa Unibersidad, 24 years na akong nasa UP. Nakabawi na naman siguro diba?

My second confession is that, after I accepted this invitation to speak, I found myself completely at a loss as to what I was going to say. I can probably explain this, in part, with the fact that I am still at that point in my life – o sige na nga, that age – where I do not expect to be giving commencement speeches. It still feels like I just graduated from high school, and it still comes as a surprise to realize that that was actually 21 years ago.

The other reason for my difficulty is more fundamental. Commencement speeches are supposed to be replete with profound insight and relevant advice. At the same time, they are addressed to a group of people – young high school graduates like yourselves – who are probably sick of getting insight and advice. After all, you are at the height of invincibility, with a decade of formal schooling behind you and the limitless possibilities of college and career waiting before you. Who needs advice?

So let’s make a deal. I won’t give advice. I won’t tell you what you should or should not do. I will not even venture to prod you down the particular paths I think you should take. Instead, I will just tell you about my own observations, my own experience about the terrain that we will, in all likelihood, soon be exploring together as fellow travellers.

First let’s start with the good news. The future – your future – is rife with opportunity. Perhaps more than any other time in the history of our country, the possibilities for the talented, the hardworking, the determined Filipino graduate, are virtually limitless. With the advent of the Internet and the rise of information technology, with the opening up of international job market and the emergence of the global economy, your choices as to the careers you will pursue and the lives you will lead are no longer confined to what can be provided in the Philippines. In fact, rather ironically, many of you will probably find more attractive choices outside of the country: a truth attested to by the fact that so many of my own classmates, in elementary, high school, and college, now live and work abroad.

Let me point out though that this is good news to you – specifically those graduating today. The unprecedented levels of mobility and flexibility, make no mistake, are not available to all Filipinos, but they are to you. After all, you are graduating from UP, which means that you have been fortunate enough to have the education and the ability that will allow you to access, and take advantage of, all these opportunities. So many of our fellow citizens, who do not have the benefit of your – our – background, unfortunately, cannot say the same.

This brings me to the second point, that hand in hand with these opportunities available to you as individuals, is the reality that collectively, our country, our community, our world, face tremendous challenges on a wide spectrum of issues. The disparity in educational opportunities I mentioned earlier is just one of these. Rampant poverty, poor governance, corruption, environmental degradation, the list of problems seems endless. But take note that I characterized these issues as challenges. They are not givens to be simply accepted, they are difficulties to be overcome, questions to be answered, challenges to be resolved.

In your enthusiasm for the grand vista of possibilities that lie before you, remain aware that so many others are denied the privilege of that outlook on the future. The sad fact is, right now, not everyone can be a graduate of UP. But more significantly, be aware that apart from the many individual opportunities open to you, there is now a collective opportunity, at this point in our country’s history, to respond to these challenges, and work for something better. The frustrations and tragedies we have had to endure over the past few years have given us a renewed perspective on the challenges facing our nation, our world. On numerous issues ranging from human rights, to the environment, to good governance, many Filipinos, both in government and civil society, have seized upon a new determination to build something better. The last time our country experienced this kind of enthusiasm for change was 25 years ago, after my own graduation from UP Elem, and after the EDSA revolution. Do not neglect to consider this opportunity as well.

Which brings me to my third and final point: in the face of these opportunities and challenges, what role should a graduate of UP play? I said earlier that I would restrain myself from giving you advice on this, your day of days, and I will keep that promise. I will leave you to answer the question for yourself – what role should you play?

Allow me to share, however, something I heard from my own high school graduation. Yes, from that other school. Something which in the 21 years since, I have not forgotten.

Our speaker then, Roberto Verzola, an engineer and social activist and currently secretary general of the Philippine Greens, talked about his own high school graduation. Sabi niya, pag-graduate daw niya ng high school, ang pakiramdam niya, dahil sa edukasyon at pagkakataon na naibigay sa kanya, parang may red carpet na nakalatag sa kanyang harapan patungo sa kanyang maningning na kinabukasan. Pero nung pinagmasdan niya ng mas mabuti, nakita niya na ang red carpet palang ito ay mga likod ng mga ordinaryong mamamayang Filipino na siyang nagtratrabaho at nagpapakahirap para mabigyan siya ng pagkakataon para sa isang mabuting kinabukasan.

I would like to think, that to a greater or lesser extent, most of what I have done, or tried to do, in the 21 years since then, has been to prove myself deserving of the unbelievable privilege given to me by my fellow Filipinos: the same opportunity and privilege that has now been given to you. And make no mistake, it is an unbelievable privilege.

I will not tell you what role you should play. That is a question that you can only answer for yourself. But I hope you will consider the unbelievable privilege you have been given, and those who have given blood and sweat so that you may exercise this privilege, when you finally determine for yourself what role you will play in your own individual futures, and in our country’s future.

Muli, salamat sa pagkakataong magsalita ngayong hapon, at isang malugod at mainit na pagbati sa inyong pagtatapos.

Congratulations, Batch 2011.

 

Breathing out

This is something I should have written 18 months ago.

I have always believed myself burdened with the curse of conscience. I could never get the hang of closing one’s eyes, ears, and mind, to the awfulness that some of our fellow human beings are forced to call their everyday lives. And seeing, hearing, and realizing the hardship that so many others are made to endure — whether by fate, destiny, God, society, or the good old semi-feudal, semi-colonial state — has, in turn, prevented me from being comfortable with living a “normal” life, with a “normal” career and “normal” aspirations.

I always had to do something. To get involved, to at least try and make a difference.

A line from Gary Granada’s Uunahin Ko Kayo has always struck a chord with me: Ang pangarap ng marami sa mundo/ Ay hindi ko hahayaang mabigo

This, for want of a better term, restlessness, pushed me to join the student movement when I was in the university, and later, the ranks of what can be loosely called the progressive movement.

For the most part, it was a decision, and a life, that I do not regret. Besides the fact that I felt “compelled” (or as I said before, cursed) to do this, being in the progressive movement has given me moments and experiences I would never trade away. I have witnessed human beings at their finest: generosity in the midst of grinding poverty, courage in the face of insurmountable odds, good will in the grip of the most heartrending tragedy, hope triumphant, time and time again, over despair.

Some of my best and closest friends, including my wife and soulmate, I have met in the course of my life in the progressive movement, and it is something that I will always hold dear.

Sometimes though, the things that are dearest to you can also break your heart.

And I suppose this is what I came to understand 18 months ago. That the more you love something, the more you invest of yourself, your effort, your time, the more painfully your heart will break when it finally lets you down.

It took me 18 months to write this, and that I now can, is a sign, I hope, that I’m better.

In the end, who I am remains essentially the same, and so, my choices stand. I cannot even imagine myself doing anything else. It is sad, in a way, but it is also, unfortunately, true. In my darkest days I thought — no, I wanted to believe — that heartbreak could change who I was, lift the curse, so to speak. But wounds heal, and eventually we remain who we are, scarred yes, but ultimately the same.

So I continue to soldier on. Fighting the same battles, tilting at the same windmills, living the same life.

Maybe someday, I’ll even get to be as happy as I was before.

Remembering Hope

Two Saturdays ago, I heard of Cory Aquino’s death and was rather surprised to find myself deeply affected. I was gripped by a feeling that was part sadness, part nostalgia, and part… something else. It took me a while to identify what that “something else” was, but eventually I recognized it for what it was — the faint, bittersweet remembrance of youthful hope.

Cory Aquino’s presidential campaign and the popular uprising that followed it 23 years ago probably means a lot of things to different people. But for me, it will always be the time that I fell in love, fatally and irrevocably, with the idea of what our country could be.

I suppose it was unavoidable that my impressionable 12-year old mind would become enamored with the excitement for change that so charged the air then. Cory’s candidacy at the time did not only represent something better than the status quo, i.e. an improvement from the Marcos regime, but was a beacon for the nation’s long pent-up enthusiasm for change. And when the EDSA uprising came and catapulted Cory to the presidency, despite the best (or perhaps worst) efforts of the forces supporting the old regime, it seemed the perfect affirmation of our faith in the boundless possibilities of such enthusiasm.

Of course, later, the disappointments would come. The massacre at Mendiola, the (re)institution of the total war policy, the unthinking assumption of illegitimate public debts – these and other decisions by “President Cory” would eventually dampen even the seemingly limitless enthusiasm of the campaign and at EDSA. The “Cory magic” would eventually fade in the face of harsh, unforgiving Philippine reality.

Still, having felt that wonder once, I never quite looked at that “reality” the same way. The most serious social problems were simply challenges that would inevitably be overcome, obstacles to be swept aside by sheer effort of will, by our indefatigable belief in ourselves and in the power of our collective enthusiasm. No matter how overwhelming our nation’s troubles seemed, the hope, no, the conviction, that that better community, that better country, that better world we craved, always remained within our grasp if we worked hard enough, if we trusted in ourselves and in our fellows enough, never faltered.

Half a decade after EDSA, when as an undergraduate at the University of the Philippines I marched against the Cory government’s plan to extend the Bases Agreement with the United States, it was, quite ironically, this selfsame conviction, born during the Cory campaign, that lay at the heart of my motivations.

The years, of course, eventually took their toll even on this remnant of hope that I took from EDSA. Though I forsook academic achievement and a mainstream career in favor of continued involvement in what can only be broadly called “the progressive movement” (in a vague, distant sort of tribute to something briefly glimpsed in 1986), disappointment, frustration, cynicism, and plain weariness ultimately reduced that fierce, vibrant hope into a dull throb of dissatisfaction. Enthusiasm for change gave way to anger with the status quo. It became more important to crush the oppressors than to build a future for the oppressed. Hope became hate.

Every so often, though, that dull ache of dissatisfaction would flare up, somewhat painfully, into a semblance of the old, lost optimism.

Two Saturdays ago was one such moment.

Cory Aquino’s death opened the way for a celebration of her life. And fairly or unfairly, it once again reemphasized for many, including myself, that 23 years ago, she symbolized the power of possibility. Her passing, and the outpouring of support and gratitude that emerged in response to it, helped me remember that at the core of our dissatisfaction with our current leaders, at the heart of our frustration with our country’s woes, is that belief, deeply buried though it may be, that we still can build a better world.

I would like to think that in the end, the social change so many of us crave will not be brought about by the jaded cynics, but by those who continue to hope, and to dream. Cory’s triumph in 1986 proved that those who hope can wage a successful struggle. Cory’s passing now reminds us that those who struggle must not neglect to hope.