Dek: In fighting for their cause, activists find that a deeper love can bloom in the battlefield through the relationships that blossom along the way.

MANY BELIEVE that the revolutionary spirit is primarily fueled by hatred towards unjust systems and corrupt people in power. This notion, however, could not be further from the truth. Key Cuban revolutionary Che Guevara said it best, “A true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love.”

Activists fervently fight for and against various causes because of the love they have for their movements and the people affected by the issue. Eventually, it has only become natural to see both romantic and platonic love bloom within and beyond battlefields.

Pet name? ‘Lek.

In Filipino activist spaces, ‘lek is short for “kolektiba,” a term used to address fellow comrades in collective fights.

University of the Philippines Diliman’s (UPD) former Chancellor Fidel Nemenzo and Social Watch Philippines’ Co-Convenor Marivic Raquiza are among those who call themselves ‘lek. Nemenzo and Raquiza are also accomplished academics, passionate activists—and loving spouses for three decades and counting.

The couple met during their college years at UPD through Math class debates and a mutual friend. Both were equally impressed by each other’s social involvement and insightful participation in profound discussions. Talking about movies, food, and especially politics served as a strong foundation for a decade-long friendship, eventually withstanding separate paths and significant others.

Nemenzo and Raquiza attribute their activist roots to their involvement in student government and the political climate at the time—it was the 1980s, the peak of resistance against Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s martial law. “You were always risking your safety. But you know the zeitgeist—the atmosphere of UP in the ‘80s was incredibly rich, diverse, and there was an explosion of ideas,” Raquiza explains.

Nemenzo himself was no stranger to risking safety when he took “a bullet for freedom” during protest action in September 1984. In this awe-striking experience, Nemenzo said he knew he was going to die as he was shot in the back, with the bullet even exiting his chest. Many thoughts cycled through his mind—but despite how gruesome the life-or-death situation was, Nemenzo was thinking about his secret “biggest crush” at the time. “When it felt like I was dying, it was Marivic [who] I thought of and wanted to be beside me,” he says.

As expected, this secret eventually came to light when Nemenzo and Raquiza started dating after more than ten years of friendship. “It felt like incest,” Raquiza jokes due to their sibling-like affinity. Nevertheless, their long-time friendship served as a great foundation for their romantic relationship, marriage, and familial life with their son, Anton.

At present, Nemenzo and Raquiza channel their activist roots in academia as professors at UPD, remaining attuned to and immersed in revolutionary discussions and matters. 

After falling short of securing the spot for the UP System’s new president, Nemenzo also lost his bid for a second chancellor term at UPD. Nevertheless, he earned the support of the university’s current generation of student activists and underrepresented communities.

“When you talk about activism at its core, it’s really a set of principles and values that you hold dear about yourself, your relationships, and life expressed politically. At its core, it’s about beliefs. Those are something we want to [live out]—whether we’ve actually lived those out is something else. But we still share those ideals, and that has helped to promote a meeting of the minds, hearts, and spirits,” Raquiza says.

The “ka” in “kaibigan”

While romance is definitely not out of the question for activists, a far more common type of relationship cultivated in activism is friendships. Whether it be among the activists or the communities they serve, forming platonic relationships are at the heart of collectively fighting for a brighter tomorrow.

Kelsey Hadjirul, an activist studying International Studies at Miriam College, stresses that building relationships is at the heart of activism. Having been engaged in the urban poor sector for two years—among various other causes—she recalls her first experience in the national democratic space through the Save San Roque Alliance.

She shares,“I think immersing in communities and really getting to know the people really taught me a lot in terms of [the] sense of community and sense of working together.”

This idea of community enabled Hadjirul to build many friendships close to her heart. Through shared principles and experiences, she expressed that friendships within activist circles transcend their work—making the larger fight for justice all the easier.

“‘Yung pagiging kasama, ‘yung pagiging comrade, hindi lang siya natatapos sa activism. Friends din kami, at nagshe-share din kami tungkol sa [personal lives namin,]” she states.

(Being a companion and being a comrade—it doesn’t just stop at activism. We’re also friends and we share things about our personal lives too.)

However, being an activist carries its own set of woes, as Hadjirul shares her fear of losing more friends in light of recent state abuses against activists. Among the friends she lost is the late Chad Booc—a human rights activist, Lumad teacher, and her closest friend. “If there’s one person that I look up to in the movement, it’s my friend Chad,” she says.

She recounts her memory of Chad, who graduated cum laude in Computer Science from UPD. “He could’ve lived a comfortable, lavish life, but he chose to serve the people,” she shares. His service, however, was met with imprisonment, red-tagging, vilification by the state, and, eventually, death. “He was so passionate about teaching and volunteering that this terror and looming tyranny couldn’t stop him,” she recalls about her friend.

Despite the danger faced by activists, Hadjirul remains steadfast in fighting for her cause as she finds inspiration in Chad, among many of her other friends who choose to devote themselves to their activism. “Hindi kasi biro piliin ‘yung gan’ong path. Nakaka-proud kasi nakikita mo talaga ‘yung passion ng mga tao to strive for a better future, still remaining steadfast in the fight for genuine social transformation,” she shares.

(Choosing this kind of path is no joke. It makes me proud because you really see the people’s passion to strive for a better future, still remaining steadfast in the fight for genuine social transformation.)

Through her career as an activist, Hadjirul remarks that the value of community and comradeship has never been more apparent to her. “Mahirap kasi talaga ‘yung fight for genuine social transformation, so you really appreciate everyone na tumutulong—na kasama mong lumalaban,” she explains.

(The fight for genuine social transformation is difficult, so you really appreciate everyone who helps out—everyone who fights alongside you.)

In spite of all the difficulties and fears she may have, Hadjirul maintains that her friendships continue to push her forward through the fight.

Love for a cause

Whether romantic or platonic, love is found at the very heart of activism.

It is what plucks activists from their places of comfort to advocate for better conditions. It links advocates together, forming lifelong bonds as they fight together hand in hand.

As Hadjirul put it, “Revolutionary love is very powerful because it’s not just selfless and liberating, but it’s powerful [such] that our love and passion in serving the people is our greatest weapon against vilification, looming tyranny, and dictatorship.”