THIRTY-ONE years ago, the Ateneo defied a regime.

Rallying under the banner of a nation indignant and wearied, enough was enough for the university as it took to the wide avenues of EDSA to topple a dictator. Jesuits, formators, and students alike joined the effort in hopes of a future for their country as open as the streets they filled.

The Ateneo has a rich history as a stalwart of social justice and activism. But this history is under the threat of a polarizing chasm that reduces national discourse into partisan association—a matter of “us” vs “them.

The university is dilawan, at least according to an army of detractors online. Its stances are allegedly nothing more than untoward attacks on President Duterte and other opponents of the Liberal Party (LP). Despite the evidence supporting them, the Ateneo’s claims against extrajudicial killings and the burial of the late dictator Ferdinand Marcos at the Libingan ng mga Bayani are deemed fraudulent and intentionally berating in an era of post-truth politics.

In a previous article, it was made clear that the Ateneo has yet to have an answer to this widely accepted narrative. And it becomes increasingly difficult to mount a defense against this narrative when heavy traffic is the only thing known to occupy the streets of Katipunan.

A tinge of yellow

Allegations of partisanship erupted again as the Ateneo decried the Marcos burial in a series of mobilizations in November last year. The most controversial of these was the protest at the People Power Monument held on the 30th, which Akbayan, a LP-associated bloc, helped organize with the Coalition Against Marcos Burial at the Libingan ng mga Bayani (CAMB-LNMB).

Student leaders of the university were invited by administrators through the Office of Social Concern and Involvement (OSCI) to synchronize protest efforts and consider suggestions from the student body. However, some students, knowing of the ties to Akbayan, were cautious not to reinforce the image of a yellow Ateneo. Already, whispers circulated online questioning the legitimacy of the CAMB protest especially among pro-Duterte and pro-Marcos Facebook pages.

Eva*, one of the student leaders invited to the mobilization, said that it was identified that the event would be the “front act of Akbayan.”

“Concerned students and the Sanggunian identified that although the mobilization was branded as multi-partisan group, the presence of LP-affiliated politicians that would be allowed to speak and [be] recognized during the program would ‘color’ the event and thus the Sanggunian resolved to alter the level of representation,” she says.

She adds that the Sanggunian opted to only invite concerned members of the student body as opposed to officially endorsing the event. But that did little to quell the anxiety of student leaders concerned about displaying partisan bias.

“Though it was clarified that the politicians were speaking only in the context of petitioners who filed the motion for reconsideration at the SC, there was already clamor among the student leaders privy to the mobilization details that feared the affiliation with LP would do nothing to further the message of the mobilization and further associate [the] Ateneo with LP,” Eva elaborates.

New framings

Eva shares her disappointment at the office’s proposition. “I felt that as a mobilization, there was not a lot of effort to reach out to other sectors of different political affiliations,” she says.

OSCI, however, remains firm in its refusal to let allegations affect its proceedings. A representative, Floy Soriano, explains, “There were other organizations like the Freedom from Death Coalition and other schools like UP, La Salle, and Miriam [in the CAMB protest]. The Ateneo did not force students to join, though if you have the same position against Marcos’ burial then you could join them, but not because of partisanship or politicking.”

Further, Arjan Aguirre of the Political Science Department clarifies the role that formators played in the mobilization. “There were faculty members and administrators, on their personal capacity, who offered assistance,” he says, reiterating that the students were not forced to participate if they were not amenable to rallying with Akbayan.

“Many of our faculty members and administrators are well-known activists so they offered awakening initiatives and social formation,” he adds.

On the other hand, Aguirre commends the students who searched “for framings not found in the conventional space of the Ateneo.” He shares, “What I noticed is that there is a widening of awareness, lumalawak ang kamalayan.”

However, Aguirre notes that it was “not a total rejection [of the CAMB protest].” He remarks that the students aiming to be more inclusive, which to him was a good sign, “a good sign of the political awakening in this university.”

Aguirre lauds the students who wanted to reach out to different political groups not made easily accessible by faculty assistance: “Students were interested to know more answers from various sources. For example, as regards to the knowledge of the Martial Law regime, the Ateneo has its own story. Students on their part sought for a deeper understanding by engaging other sectors and political forces [regarding] the Marcos struggle. That’s why our students were so scattered at that time. They were working with various groups.”

Given the Sanggunian’s decision against an official endorsement of the CAMB protesting, Ateneans were split while protesting. Students were spread across different contingents. Some were in Mendiola to join Block Marcos and labor groups that were also protesting for the end of contractualization, though this too would march to EDSA, others stayed at the People Power Monument with the CAMB, and several chose to participate in the mobilization at Luneta instead, five days prior and with Makabayan, a bloc then allied with Duterte.

Qualms over color

With much ado over the perceived color of the university, it is important to ask about the Ateneo’s supposed affiliation with LP and why it matters, for even before the Akbayan issue, the Ateneo has since been branded as biased toward all things yellow.

Aguirre offers an explanation: “[Dilawan] aims to discredit the very character, the image, and the stature of those people, even the institutions, that are against the ruling narrative of the current government.”

Aguirre says that “the people who use the term dilawan manage to establish the connection between LP and people who subscribe to some of the principles, some of the values, and some of the issues that are related to the party.”

“So [Former President Benigno Aquino III] is an alumnus [of the Ateneo] and so are his cabinet members and other people working in the government. In fact, some of our faculty members here used to work in the gov’t during the Aquino admin. If you’ve noticed in the previous elections, most of the issues used by LP candidates were also the issues of this university—it was Mar-Leni that really focused on land reform, transparency, and accountability issues,” Aguirre says, enumerating the connections overblown by “dilawan” accusers.

“But why is it effective [in discrediting the university’s claims]? The problem there lies in the fact that the ‘yellow narrative’ was not able to really convince the general public about its promises [and] its attempts to realize its ideals, especially in the past six years, so people started to doubt [and] become skeptical of the ‘yellow narrative.’ That’s why anyone, anything dilawan is seen as negative,” he adds.

Aguirre explains that there are two parts to this narrative: “the struggle against Marcos” and “the revival in the 2010s” involving the restoration of democratic institutions. “[The Aquinos] failed to finish the project. One example of this is land reform and Freedom of Information [which were left unpassed by Noynoy Aquino]. People use dilawan to invoke this feeling of disgust, hatred, and disillusionment to effectively discredit people and institutions like the Ateneo,” he argues.

Staying true

Aguirre disagrees with the notion of the Ateneo being dilawan when it comes to its activism. Detractors routinely compare the Ateneo’s apparent silence concerning injustices of past administrations and its vocality against Marcos and EJKs today as evidence of partisanship. To this Aguirre responds, “For the past six years under the Aquino regime, the Ateneo responded on critical issues appropriately.”

He cites a number of instances: the university’s call for action on the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program, the joint student-farmer protest against the Coco Levy Fund Scam, the prayer rallies and demonstrations following the Mamasapano clash, and the lectures and protests held against the Priority Development Assistance Fund.

Aguirre believes the Ateneo is and has been fair with its stances—it is not an institution that serves a political front. He contests that even before LP’s formation and rise, the Ateneo was already well established as a producer of “revolutionary thinkers” and a cradle of freedom. He argues that detractors may say what they want about the Ateneo but it will continue upholding the “non-negotiables of nation-building,” and “value democracy and social justice” no matter what.

“The point is that we’ve stayed here for more than 150 years, longer than them. We’ve produced a lot [of works and minds]. We may be called dilawan but that will eventually pass on,” he says. “We cannot control what people think of us but I guess that the best weapon against this is being true to what we’ve always been doing.”

And so today, we take to the streets again.

*Name has been changed at the request of the interviewee.