THOSE who are outraged by the Supreme Court decision to allow the burial of the late President Ferdinand Marcos in the Libingan ng mga Bayani may take heart in this old folk proverb: “Ang matsing kahit bihisan, matsing pa rin!” (A monkey, even if dressed up, is still a monkey).
Internment in a cemetery for heroes does not a hero make.
Emilio Aguinaldo is buried on the grounds of his historic mansion in Kawit, Cavite. Manuel Quezon’s remains lie in the Quezon Memorial in Quezon City. And Jose Rizal’s final resting place is beneath the Rizal monument at the Luneta.
These are all hallowed grounds. The heroes who are interred there make them so. Nobody is sure where the remains of Andres Bonifacio are. There are doubts that they are in the Bonifacio monument in Grace Park. But he is honored, nonetheless.
Was it Marcos’s dying wish that he be buried in the Libingan ng mga Bayani? Was it, perhaps, to ensure that his memory would be associated with heroism? Did he have doubts that this would be the case?
Marcos had a penchant for appearances. He made sure he would be hailed as the most bemedalled soldier in World War II, never mind that that some – or many – of the medals were reportedly fake. It should, therefore, be no surprise that the Marcos clan would also like to make sure that he would be recognized as a hero – at least, by association with the Libingan ng mga Bayani.
In contrast, Rizal had no such megalomaniacal illusions. A December 2013 article in the Philippine Daily Inquirer by Dr. Pablo S. Trillana III reveals that, before Rizal’s execution, he left a note (originally in Spanish) that stated:
“Dear parents, brother, sisters: Give thanks to God who has kept me tranquil, before my death…. Bury me in the earth, put a stone on top, and a cross. My name, the date of my birth, and that of my death. Nothing more. If later you wish to surround my grave with a fence, you can do it. No anniversary celebrations! I prefer Paang Bundok.”
Paang Bundok would later come to be known as the Manila North Cemetery where, incidentally, Presidents Ramon Magsaysay, Sergio Osmeña and Manuel Roxas are buried. But Rizal’s wish would not be followed. After his execution, his captors buried him secretly, without a coffin, in an unmarked grave in an obscure cemetery in Paco, which is now Paco Park.
It took the determined efforts of Rizal’s sisters for the grave to be found. Fearing desecration by Rizal’s enemies, the sisters had a marker placed with Rizal’s name engraved in reverse: RPJ.
It was not until after the battle of Manila Bay, where the US ostensibly vanquished the Spanish armada, that Rizal’s family managed to have his remains exhumed, placed in an urn, and kept in a sister’s house in Binondo, there to stay for 14 years. In 1912, Rizal’s remains were finally placed at the Rizal Monument, where honor guards are posted 24 hours a day.
Who knows? President Rodrigo Duterte may want to do the same to Marcos’s tomb at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. I hope he realizes, though, that honor guards do not a hero make.
Having said that, however, those who consider Marcos the antithesis of a hero should face two harsh realities:
Firstly, the Marcos family and thousands – maybe millions – of Ilocanos are firm in their belief that he was a hero. Secondly, the Marcoses have been more zealous in extolling that “heroism” than those who consider him a villain, a murderer and a thief.
The fact alone that Senator Bongbong Marcos nearly won the vice presidency in the last elections should tell us that the story of Marcos’s villainy has been lost among the post-martial law generation.
Who is to blame for that?
The Marcoses who have unflinchingly, unwaveringly and unceasingly honored his memory? Or the civil society stalwarts, the martial law victims and the media who have presumed that their occasional cries of “Never again!” would remain meaningful and relevant to each new generation of Filipinos?
The Nazis may have immortalized the maxim that “a lie repeated often enough will be taken for the truth.” But those who went through two decades of Marcos misrule, but have begun to take for granted the significance of EDSA One epitomize the opposite dictum, “The truth, if not told often enough, will be taken for a lie.”
This is one reason, among several, why many of those who marched in the People Power Revolt have since been defined by detractors as “belonging to the yellow horde” – a revision of the once-noble symbolism of that color.
I have read the official statement of De la Salle Philippines calling the Supreme Court decision on the burial of Marcos in the Libingan ng mga Bayani “an ominous development” that “reflects the weakness of our democracy to exact accountability from leaders who abused and are abusing power.”
The statement continues: “We, therefore, call on all our Lasallian teachers and partners to strengthen all their educational and community engagement efforts and programs towards a deepening of our people’s appreciation for democracy and human rights. Let us join with like-minded groups to create more robust advocacy on these issues,”
Is this the first time that De la Salle has resolved to make this move or has it always been the case in the aftermath of EDSA One? I mean no disrespect for De la Salle, where I once taught Advertising Management and of which my eldest son is an alumnus, but my impression is that our people and well-meaning institutions are reactive, protesting perceived acts of injustice only when they are about to be perpetrated and going back to business as usual when the threat subsides.
I am, frankly, puzzled why, it was only after the February 2016 commemoration of the People Power Revolution – the 30th year, no less – that the Philippine government – led by President Benigno S, Aquino III, no less – began to look for a “permanent venue” for a People Power museum, to ensure that the horrors of martial law would not be forgotten by the forthcoming generations.
The “experiential museum” installed at Camp Aguinaldo was described in one news report as a “pop-up” affair – in other words, temporary.
Shouldn’t Presidents Cory Aquino and Fidel V. Ramos have thought about it, having been principal players in that historic event? Ramos did a much better job creating awareness of the first centennial of the declaration of Philippine independence in Kawit, Cavite, although even that ended up with only the Aguinaldo mansion as a permanent memorial to that historic event.
Shouldn’t the son of Cory and Ninoy Aquino, as president of the Philippines, not have taken the “Imeldific” steps to memorialize that instance in Philippine history when the world regarded our country with awe and admiration?
I use the term “Imeldific” because former First Lady. Imelda Romualdez Marcos is the only one I can think of who had the creativity and the zeal to build imposing structures, like the Philippine International Convention Center, the Folk Arts Theater and the Cultural Center of the Philippines to project her vision of a culturally rich and resurgent Philippines – never mind that the substance was like the façade of a Hollywood set.
Now, here we are again, making loud noises over an injustice perpetrated by none other than the Supreme Court. But making loud noises is all that can be done for the next six years under Duterte, whose grand idea it was to have Marcos buried as a hero.
But six years are not a long time. Enough time to plan on perpetuating the memory of martial law and Marcos rule with a structure that will last for generations – much like the Holocaust memorials of Israel. Enough time to be proactive. Not reactive.
And this time, let it not be just Ferdinand Marcos depicted as the villain in that permanent memorial. The nine Supreme Court justices who handed down the decision deserve a place in that Hall of Shame. ([email protected])
