Apr 27, 2001
on GetAsia.com.ph
under pseudonym
Rene Diwa
RED FLAGS
UNFURLED Passing by
the EDSA shrine last Wednesday April 25, 2001, I look up and see large
red flags waving in the air. There are shouts and megaphones and bile
in the voices over the sound system. Fists raised in anger. Cloth banners
proclaiming "Poor is Power." It looks like the resurrection
of communism. Rather it is proof that in our little corner of the third
world, there are many who would use and be used. I shudder.
Looking up at the overpass where I stood last January to oust Erap, I
wonder how long this gathering will last. And how it will end. I really
have no idea. Probably there will be no bloodshed. I mean, hopefully.
But I am not sure. The vibe
is all wrong. It is one of indifference and rabble-rousing. A lot of the
people at the EDSA shrine don't really listen to what's being said. Not
that anything is worth listening to. There is a lot of bluster and air,
vehemence and sentiment. But it is sentiment that is targeted at evoking
a heated response from the hordes. I imagine them chanting "Barabbas"
in unison like at the Easter Vigil-- except instead of one person being
crucified in a re-enactment, it's an entire nation that's being nailed
to a dangerous cross of manipulation and bribery. The next
day, aboard the jeep I take to work, the driver is talking to his compadre--
saying how the dump trucks came and collected the people in their neighborhood.
Even the little kids were scooped up. "Makakadagdag rin naman sila
sa bilang," is what the organizers say. My co-passengers, Makati
workers on their way to airconditioned offices, are pretending not to
listen but the driver doesn't care who hears. It's public knowledge. It's
all out in the open: P300 to come to EDSA, P200 more if you finish the
day there. A bonus if you bring Pro-Erap placards.
Text messages fly. E-mails clog Inboxes around the metro. "Get ready to protect the democracy we fought for in EDSA 2!" There's a mass for peace here, a prayer vigil there. Net25 veers from its regular shows to focus on the rallies. Not that I really notice, as there is no television in my humble apartment. And the AM radio announcers' grating commentaries begin to rub me the wrong way after a few hours. Relatives abroad call to ask if everything's okay. And the peso goes down. Again.
The heat appears to match the intensity of the situation. No respite for the wicked and the innocent of the Philippines, it seems to say.
Everyone is talking about a possible coup attempt. About taking back EDSA. About how the poor people who have gathered at the Shrine are being used and swayed by politicians who want to parlay hate into votes. About how this is all really our fault-- for continuing to ignore the poor and not explaining why trad pols are drowning the nation in corruption, they have risen up, bribes or no bribes, to vocalize their displeasure. About Erap's continued appeal in the eyes of the disenfranchised. About ignorance. And the chasm between those who have and those who don't.
It's not a pleasant sight. I cannot bear to stay too long at the Ortigas-EDSA flyover. I feel... endangered? Ineffective? No, the word I search for is "depressed."
And how does it all end?
After a march on Malacanang, and the raising of a state of rebellion, and rabble-rousing candidates washing their hands of the whole shebang... after several deaths at the hands of a mob, after the vigilant middle-class gets back in place to impose its will on the voiceless...
The salesladies at Galeria continue to complain about the smell of unwashed people that lingers in the mall.
And the nuns must clean up the horrific, puddling filth in the public toilets at the EDSA Shrine.
Maybe someday we will learn.
But not anytime soon, it looks like.
* * *
<AUTHOR'S
BIO>
Rene Diwa is a single, frustrated computer geek who wishes he could support
himself by writing. No wonder he's frustrated. Write him at yoruba@email.ro