The sight is all too familiar: Black flags, chants, and students draping Gate 2.5. We take to the streets our indignation against issues such as the Marcos burial and extrajudicial killings caused by Duterte’s drug war.
Most of the time, we are uncertain whether a passing car’s response to “Busina, busina para sa hustisya” is borne out of support. But what is more piercing than the ire are the blank stares from two-wheeled riders and passengers of jampacked jeepneys rushing to get home. If they do single out the futility of our protests, I will not blame them. Because once we put down our placards and change our soaked clothes, we return to the confines of our heavily guarded campus or to the comforts of our own homes. Not to mention, it is easy to shoot across Katipunan to refresh ourselves from hours of protesting.
Meanwhile, they still have to think about how they will budget their earnings, if they actually have the time. We have to grapple with the reality that speaking out is more often than not something only we can afford, and to discount those who do not participate as apathetic is as evil as the atrocities we condemn.
This is not to discredit our protests. In fact, the Sanggunian and various Ateneo groups have shown willingness to engage with different sectors of society in a time when 13,000 drug war deaths are being relegated to mere figures. Now more than ever, we need to speak out against our tactless president and his macho lapdogs who are weakening institutions that provide checks and balances.
Thus, our narrative on human rights should be inclusive. While the drug war merits attention as it is the most egregious manifestation of violence, we also have to show that economic and sociocultural rights are human rights in themselves. Philip Alston, United Nations Special Rapporteur on human rights, argues that the human rights agenda addresses economic and social issues in a “tokenistic manner,” suggesting that the solution is not to shift its focus, but to broaden its base.
For us, it means we also have to recognize that people who have been living in poverty and have no means of escaping structural impediments are already experiencing a form of violence, despite guarantees enshrined in our Constitution and international agreements.
Maybe it is about time we become more vocal on issues such as the Kentex fire in 2015 and the contractualization by companies such as Jollibee. And in our own backyard, we have to engage with Ateneo employees and workers who have been protesting through black armbands for nearly a month now, which sadly nobody has noticed.
With our Jesuit formation, we should by now have realized that while we cannot solve all the ills of the world, we can still help make the country become more just. We have to do away with the “we give voice to the voiceless” trope. We should help not out of a messianic calling to go down from the hill, but because we recognize that the people we meet are dignified and have the same rights as we do.
This recognition, especially among would-be political and economic leaders, makes us not just men and women “for” others, but men and women “with” others. And that, I think, is more telling of what it means to be Atenean.
