Today, the nation remembers the declaration of martial law in the context of a collective rage over the ghost projects. In several parts of the country, people will be holding rallies in protest against what they perceive as unmitigated corruption among politicians, the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) and construction firm owners.
In connection with the commemoration of the declaration of martial law, I recommend the book False Nostalgia: The Marcos “Golden Myths” and how to Debunk Them, by JC Punongbayan. The book delivers what its title promises. Using irrefutable data, the author refutes the claims that martial law was a golden period.
While each chapter contains detailed information intended to answer the different claims of the martial law apologists, the foreword written by Emmaneul S. De Dios from the University of the Philippines, provides an insightful explanation of the conflicting narratives of the martial law era.
De Dios says that conflicting narratives with regards a past dictatorship are not unique to our country. Take the case of Spain. It was only in 2018 when the body of Francisco Franco was exhumed from the Valle de los Caidos and interred in a private family vault. After all, it cannot be denied that Franco made some projects, like the efficient railway system. But it was decided that to honor a dictator would be incompatible with the ideals of democracy. (I cannot but note the obvious irony: Franco’s body was buried in Spain’s equivalent of the Libingan ng mga Bayani and later transferred to a private family vault. In the case of Marcos, it was the opposite: from a family mausoleum to the Libingan ng mga Bayani.)
Germany is more successful in controlling the narratives in relation to its past. Prohibition against the Nazi propaganda is now prohibited by its penal code. There is a law against holocaust denial. Publicly displaying swastikas and wearing nazi uniforms are prohibited. But the legal success has actually not prevented the emergence of pockets of neo-Nazis and the far right.
The different interpretations of the same historical events tell us that historiography is not a simple attempt to recall the past. Memory is not a passive recipient of past events. Memory is not like a fish net, waiting for whatever kinds of fish may enter. We also choose what to remember and what to forget. We choose where to place the net and thus we choose the kind of fish we intend to catch.
But while admitting that recollection of the past necessarily involves subjectivity, we also say that inevitability of different interpretations is one thing, distortion of history is another. In explaining this point to my students, I use an example of a literary classic: We can say that The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is about love. Still others may say that it is about life. It can be said it is about prayer. All these interpretations are within the realm of plausibility. But to say that The Little Prince is a comedy is already a distortion of its meaning.
In the same manner, to say that the martial law era was a golden age is plain distortion. Consider the following, which I have gathered from different sources:
We know from the detainees themselves that officers did not torture before 1972. One long-term prisoner, Leoncio Co, noted that the regular officers, trained at the Philippine Military Academy (PMA), who arrested him in 1969 were very understanding and even advised him “do not incriminate yourself.” After martial law however, attitudes were different — a change epitomized when he witnessed a recent PMA graduate, Lt. Rodolfo Aguinaldo, torturing a woman with such severity that she nearly lost her mind. (Source: “Theater of Terror: The Spectacle of Political Violence under Marcos and Duterte” by Alfred McCoy)
We experienced our worst economic crisis or recession in 1984-1985. In fact, we never experienced a recession as bad as the Marcosian one until 2020, 35 years after Marcos’ ouster, during the Covid-19 pandemic, when the gross domestic product (GDP) sank by almost 10 percent. But even with the pandemic, the Marcosian crisis can still be legitimately called the worst economic crisis that befell the Philippines since World War II. At the height of the Covid-19 lockdown, we experienced negative growth but only for five consecutive quarters. In contrast, during the Marcos regime, we experienced decline for nine consecutive quarters. In addition, the total damage to the economy during the Marcosian crisis was 14 percent, overshadowing the 10 percent drop due to the pandemic. (Source: False Nostalgia by J.C Punongbayan.)
Today, as we rightly march again to protest against graft and corruption, we ask the question what lessons have we forgotten, or have never learned, so much so that the same problems would resurface, under different forms?