Uneventful is a word often used to describe National Heroes’ Day. However, this year’s holiday proved to be different: On August 26, thousands of citizens from the most varied of backgrounds and allegiances gathered at Luneta Park to express their sentiments against the pork barrel system.

This gathering—the Million People March—was unlike any protest movement in recent history. Unfettered by political color, it was a venue where people had legitimate freedom to air their own views on the issue at hand. The protest was one pervaded by the spirit of openness and inclusiveness.

The Ateneo community also joined in. European Studies Lecturer Nastasia Tysmans wrote a Facebook message calling for an Ateneo contingent to the march. Professors and students responded by organizing exactly that—replete with a bus to and from Luneta Park.

The story of the march is indeed a captivating one. Beneath that, however, lies a serious question: How willing are Ateneans to act towards political goals? How willing are we to speak up for ourselves and for the nation, really?

In session

Some of the recent buzzwords on campus have been “apathy” and “politicization.” These are words used to discuss the increasing unpopularity of the student government among its constituents.

For some, however, these words also seem to fit the seemingly nonchalant attitudes of today’s ordinary Atenean towards the world beyond the hill. A popular accusation against students is that we are nowhere as politicized as the students of the 1970s, from whom came stern opposition to Martial Law and movements to Filipinize the university.

However, not all are keen on such a broad generalization. For Brian Giron of the History Department, the issue is not merely one of caring or not; he emphasizes that there are also those who are looking for better means of expressing themselves.

“I think Ateneans have been steadily… trying to get more involved,” he says. He further explains that the Ateneans, by way of their education, are much more cautious with regard to protests compared to others. According to Giron, many students are reluctant to jump aboard causes that they are not yet completely sold on.

The overtly demanding nature of some protests also present problems to some Ateneans. “Ateneans are just looking for avenues that are rational, that are reasonable,” asserts Giron.

Similarly, Tysmans notes that some Ateneans actually have a rebellious streak in them. For her, however, more practical considerations—safety and convenience amongst them—are often overruling factors.

Speaking from her experience of convening the Atenean contingent to the Million People March, she comments that there would have been much more reluctance on the part of the participants to attend if their security was not guaranteed. On the other hand, the provision of convenient transportation to and from Luneta Park also helped convince many to join the march.

That is not to say that there is no such thing as an apathetic Atenean. Both Giron and Tysmans, while disavowing the generalization that most Ateneans do not care at all, nevertheless concede that there are still those who are indifferent.

“I think it’s a false choice for them. I’d like to say they’re apathetic because they weren’t presented with an alternative convincing enough for them,” says Giron. He also points out that most professors, uncomfortable with the notion of influencing the political affiliations of their students, prefer to present both sides of issues and leave the students to decide for themselves. “Unfortunately, some students are not going to be convinced [by that],” he laments.

Tysmans, on her part, thinks that protest fatigue—the disillusionment that sets in after too many protests lead to no discernable change—plays a large part in why Ateneans seem to disdain political action. She also mentions the common notion that our national problems are too big for students, giving them the impression that they can do nothing to help. Encouraging this impression is the role the national media plays in muddling the issues that plague the nation.

Further complicating the issue is the fact that our social memory seems to be confused, especially in remembering our own history. Tysmans uses the EDSA Tayo movement, another anti-pork barrel protest, as an example. She calls into question the choice of September 11 as the date of the protest, given that this is the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on the United States. On top of that, September 11 is also the birthday of former dictator Ferdinand Marcos.

Disenfranchising legislators

From the perspective of Fr. Luis David, SJ, an associate professor at the Department of Philosophy, the political apathy of some students can be traced back, ironically, to the Integrated Non-Academic Formation (INAF) program.

He explains that this attitude stems from the way the programs of the INAF are made. Typically, these programs are designed to be dictatorial in nature, creating a system where “they (the formators) provide answers to questions that are not being asked,” asserts David.

“People tend not to do what they’re told,” he continues. “It’s like reverse psychology.”

He comments, for example, that the Introduction to Ateneo Culture and Traditions program for freshmen focuses too much on having students listen to lectures. He suggests that it should instead be a platform where these students can be engaged and spurred into action. Likewise, he suggests that the Junior Engagement Program be made voluntary, so as to leave students free to gain awareness and act on their own terms.

Tysmans likewise considers the INAF to be a pretentious program that does not effectively motivate students politically. She contends that the various activities only force people into molds they do not necessarily want to fit in, and that the program fails to properly inspire criticality in students.

Beyond parliament

Talking about being active in protests, however, makes little sense if it results in nothing. So, what good does protesting—or other political action—actually do Ateneans?

The fact that protests seem to result in little progress has deterred more than a few students from joining them. These students point to the many times protesters have laid siege to Mendiola Street, only to have the government turn a deaf ear to them.

Giron, however, disagrees. He contends that the reason that little change seems to come out of these protest actions stems from the misconception that protests are an end unto themselves in producing social change. Instead, he argues, protests serve as the beginning of a long-term commitment to positive change.

“You can’t say that you’re going to this place and after [that] it’s all going to be right,” he says. “[It’s] a movement towards the right direction with respect to an issue.”

He also emphasizes the role of protests in sparking discourse regarding complex issues such as the pork barrel system. He explains that the Million People March was, for him, a chance to express his own views, as well as an avenue to listen to what others had to say about the issue.

Tysmans expresses similar opinions. Although she also sees the Million People March as an “event to vent” for the public, she concurs that the event started a national conversation about the issues involved.

Tysmans also saw the Million People March as an opportunity to be able to fulfill her duty to educate people. In fact, she originally envisioned the Atenean contingent to the Million People March as one that would hold on-the-spot sessions on the various issues of the pork barrel scandal.

She also speaks of how the protests showed how people had made up their minds on the issue and, more importantly, how some people were politically reinvigorated. For her, one of the most important achievements of the rally was to make people question themselves.

More than discussing and airing opinions, however, protests have much more symbolic potential. Some, for instance, viewed the Million People March with much romanticism, as a symbol of the rising of the ordinary people against the long-established power elite. Indeed, much of the captivation over the Million People March came from how the actions of just a few ordinary people could create such a tangible effect on society at large.

The same can be said for other protests. David, for instance, recalls his experiences in the 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution. He recounts an encounter between pro-Marcos soldiers and Atenean protesters. Although the soldiers were armed with assault rifles, the protesters nevertheless blockaded them, fearful of what their intentions were. The students locked arms and never gave way until told to.

“It was impressive,” he says. “Of course, the rest is history.”

Session adjourned

It is important to remember, however, that being an active, politically aware citizen goes beyond just protesting. As Giron points out, joining a protest is an expression of a commitment to “do the work”—to take an active part in solving our country’s problems.

While being a politically aware citizen is far easier said than done, Tysmans and David all share some optimism in the aftermath of the Million People March. For David, the rally rekindled, even for a short while, the spirit of the EDSA People Power Revolt in 1986.

Tysmans, meanwhile, sees the Atenean side of the Million People March as “magic.” She relates how many people from different backgrounds seemed to be so invested in the protest, recalling how even the director of the Rizal Library, Von Totanes, pitched in by offering the organizers a venue to convene in.

She realizes that it is not easy for every Atenean to do the same. Perhaps worst off are those whose very surnames are a hindrance to political action. However, she remains hopeful for even them to find a way to be involved.

She says, “You can’t choose what family you’re born into, but you can choose the legacies you want to leave.”