Opening Remarks by Judge Soliman M. Santos, Jr. (retired)
Delivered on 20 September 2025 at the auditorium of Bantayog ng mga Bayani in Quezon City..
Thank you, Marie [Marie is a Bikolana by marriage], and thank you, Bantayog ng mga Bayani Foundation for hosting this book launch in a most appropriate venue on the eve of the 53rd anniversary of the 1972 declaration of martial law by then President Marcos Sr.
Thank you all for coming. I would like to attribute some of this to the catchy press release and Facebook post of the Human Rights Violations Victims’ Memorial Commission (HVVMC) Deputy Executive Director Atty. Lawrence Charles E. Salazar who is here [Haen ka na, Nonoy?]. He happens to come from Nabua, Camarines Sur. To quote him, “MGA DASO takes its name from the native Bikol torch… its stories now guide new generations through the darkness of martial law memory… ‘so that we do not walk backwards into a future of repeated violence’… Thirty-three voices from the six Bikol provinces… Their testimonies (of life, loss, and resistance under the Marcos dictatorship) remind us: if we forget, the past merely changes clothes and walks among us again… Come, listen, and keep the torch of memory alive… All book-sale royalties will be donated to the Bantayog. Launch copies will be offered at a discounted price so that every guest may bring home a piece of this living memory…” Thanks for that, Charles, it is an eloquent concise summing up of what this book and launch is all about.
A bit of sad news though, Charles, one of our authors Atty. Henry V. Briguera of Naga City, whose 2024 book STALAG 2: Further Notes of a Martial Law Victim was donated to your office and who is also in your HRVVMC Roll of Human Rights Violation Victims, passed away only last September 12, nearing age 80. Our book MGA DASO came off the UP Press last September 8 but unfortunately Henry did not get to see it. As printed, it was dedicated to three other authors of our 1970s activist generation, all from Albay, who had earlier passed away, two of them while the book was still in the press. Henry, who was not a nat-dem (National Democratic Left)activist, is the first author to pass after the book came out.
Such post-article submission deaths of several authors only underscore the importance of recording, documenting, and writing up the testimonies of those who lived and fought during those dangerous years of the Marcos dictatorship before they – like old soldiers – fade away. There were those physically and mentally handicapped to tell their stories due to old age and poor health. It was particularly hard getting the stories of a number who suffered lingering trauma, the effects of physical and psychological torture during ML. Some chose to forget, but others chose to remember. We co-editors apologized to them for dredging up dreadful and painful memories. Many still live in constant fear of the military in the light of activists still being arrested, disappeared and “salvaged” long after the ML years.
But those who told us their stories were more or less motivated this way: We have to make this effort now, even if late in the day or the night, with more reason when memories of names and events of four to five decades ago are fading and before they are lost forever, an effort we owe ourselves and posterity. A renowned foreign author once famously said “The struggle of [people] against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.” One author told us that even his children and closest friends had not heard his story before, and it was the first time he actually sat down to write it. Now you who read the book will be privy to his previously untold story. Another author thanked us for practically “forcing” her to do this before she forgets these very important parts of her past. The act of writing can serve not only as a memory keeper but also as a form of catharsis and closure in the twilight of our lives. Their stories are a rich wellspring not only for history but also for cognate academic disciplines, notably psychology, both personal and social, including trauma studies. Truth to tell, a number of pieces read more like literature (but not fiction) than history.
Speaking of history, MGA DASO: Stories of Martial Law in Bikol acknowledges the inspiring models provided by earlier books of stories of ML in Cebu and in Davao. We believe in the regional approach and basis for a fairer and more comprehensive national history, whether this be of martial law, of the revolutionary movement, or of the whole Philippine history. We believe in doing more history from below, to complement the of course still important, if not indispensable, history from above. There must be a more conscious effort to redress the absence of small voices from the margins in the grand narratives of history writing, lest their stories be forever shut out. For “they too have their story.”
At this point, it must be acknowledged that the national-democratic narrative has often dominated the critical discourse on ML and the Marcos dictatorship. But like the books of stories of ML in Cebu and Davao, MGA DASO is not a nat-dem project that would present only or mainly the nat-dem view on ML. For that critical discourse, our book decidedly contributes an independent perspective that is not aligned with any political or ideological persuasion and line. Still, our book provides space for the nat-dem perspective, including the role of the NPA in Bikol. A big, if not overwhelming, majority of our book’s authors and subject persons were at least nat-dem activists in the 1970s (dekada sitenta) aside from a number of them being in their 70s (edad sitenta). As nat-dem activists, their anti-dictatorship stance was, for the most part, consciously part of their adopted “struggle for national democracy.” For some (to be clear, not all) of them, this was consciously no less than a “people’s democratic revolution” led by the then newly reestablished CPP guided by the ideology of Marxism-Leninism-Mao Tse Tung Thought. They were freedom fighters opposing the Marcos dictatorship like many others, including the soc-dems and lib-dems, but beyond that they were also nat-dem or communist revolutionaries seeking the overthrow of no less than the ruling “semicolonial and semifeudal” social system through a “protracted people’s war” and the establishment of a “national democratic society with a “socialist perspective.”
Yes, some of them, especially those killed during ML, were CPP cadres or NPA commanders or Red fighters. Some articles in our book state this explicitly, others do not, but the same can be gleaned from context or reading between the lines. For some of these persons, their joining the armed struggle led by the CPP-NPA was largely due to its then being the most organized and effective resistance (aside from the Moro armed resistance) to the military repression that enforced the Marcos dictatorship. Whatever one might think of the CPP-NPA, there is some historical credit due it for this role, as there should be historical recognition for those fought the dictatorship in various ways, armed and unarmed, legal and illegal – whether or not as nat-dem activists or as communist revolutionaries. All these are matters of historical honesty, accuracy and justice.
We co-editors are quite proud of our contributing authors, some of whom were or are ordinary non-activist folk. When we asked for their bio-notes, most of these typically humble Bikolnon gave only one-liners like “teacher and a freedom fighter,” a “doctor to the barrios,” or a “journalist and educator.” We therefore did research on their achievements and awards, and saw how they, and the family members and friends they paid homage to, excelled in their occupations, but more important than that, continued to serve the people and the country in their chosen fields. In showcasing the caliber of these individuals in the last part bio-notes, we hope that our readers, especially of today’s younger generations, can ponder why they, along with thousands of others, did what they did at such great cost, and think of what can still be done for our people and country. In this way, we somehow hope to pass the torch represented by our book MGA DASO.
Having said all that, we now proceed with our Program that is emcee-less. On cue of the stage screen slide, each speaker or singer will just come up the stage for his or her part of the Program and briefly introduce themselves and their respective article or song subjects. We first have a video message from newly elected Bikolana Rep. Leila M. de Lima of ML — not Martial Law, not Marxist-Leninist, but Mamamayang Liberal or pwede rin Manay Leila. Then we come to the meat of our Program which is the two parts of Excerpt Readings from five articles by their authors or representatives. The Excerpt Readings Part 1 features a brother and a daughter speaking about their two respective family members who are already enshrined in the Bantayog ng mga Bayani Wall of Remembrance. This part of our Program, with you in the audience, shows that it cannot be said, as an old activist writer personality once wrote, that they “are barely remembered nowadays, outside of their family and friends.”
After that expected heaviness, there will be the bearable lightness of two Intermission Song Numbers by a Gen Z representative celebrating his 16th birthday today. To my fellow boomers in this auditorium, do not underestimate Gen Z. Just look at their leading the most recent successful Nepal uprising, this time not led by the Maoists there, whose leader was in fact among those ousted from corrupt power. After the Intermission, we have the Excerpt Readings Part 2, where the themes of problem and solution regarding the Marcos martial law dictatorship will be touched. It ends with a brave “Invocation” that was delivered by the now Bantayog hero Atty. J. Antonio M. Carpio with then President Marcos Sr. in the IBP National Convention audience. That “Invocation” will be read by the late Atty. Carpio’s son, No. 14 of his 14 children. The other son, incumbent President Marcos Jr., will unfortunately not be in the audience today – though he might be incognito in Luneta and EDSA tomorrow. But we hope that he somehow gets to hear this — from one son to another son — for the current state of the nation. Our Program then culminates with a Ceremonial Handover of Books to Authors or representatives here before the Closing Remarks. Finally, we have the usual Post-Program refreshment snacks, book purchasing, signings [though Mga Daso has been pre-signed by 2 of its 3 editors], and photo ops.
Dios Mabalos saindong gabos. Viva la Virgen! Take it away, Manay Leila.
Book Review by Jonathan Foe
This is an important but unsettling book for me. Daso is a native torch from Bicol. The book is an anthology that gathers a collection of varied accounts from witnesses to Martial Law, spanning 1971 to 1986, in the Bikol Region. The stories shine a harsh light on a place far away from the National Capital Region (NCR), stories that reflect the national nightmare during the rule of Ferdinand Marcos Sr.
The book is a little bit traumatic for me. I’ve been to Bantayog ng mga Bayani in Quezon City, where the book launch was held, on three occasions. What scares me, personally, is that I was born in 1953. It seemed to me that the Grim Reaper claimed the lives of those born in that year. I’ve lived in Manila for thirty years now, and I know that there could have been a little picture and a short bio of me if not for an accident at birth. I was born American, and not Filipino. Had I been a Filipino, I would have volunteered to join the struggle against the Marcos dictatorship.
The Grim Reaper, a.k.a. Ferdinand Marcos, targeted people my age and had them killed. It was a crime even more devastating than President Rodrigo Duterte’s war on drugs, for Marcos imprisoned and executed the brightest and most promising of the Filipino youth. The stories contained in the book are of idealists, dean’s listers, and nationalists – young people who were willing to lay down their lives for their beliefs, for the restoration of democracy, and for the return of progress in their country.
Most of the stories in the book are about those who survived Martial Law. In contrast, Maria Ira Bisuña’s piece offers a vivid portrayal of her parents’ participation in the movement. Not every story is filled with excitement, but each offers valuable insights. Especially interesting is Victor Velasco of Catanduanes, describing the never-ending lines for nearly everything, lines for rationed rice, lines for drinking water, lines for relief goods, and lining up to greet visiting politicians. Martial law helped mold a mendicant nation that we live with today.
This is an important book that seeks to correct the collective memory of a nation prone to misremember the time. I have been teaching for the last thirty years. As part of my class assignment, I asked students to interview someone who remembers Martial Law, many of whom are elderly residents of Metro Manila.
Surprisingly, these interviews do not follow the book’s presentation. Not scientifically I grant you, but over the years, I observed that the responses tended to divide evenly: one-third viewed Martial Law as the best of times, one-third recalled it as personally good yet marred by human rights violations and lack of democracy, and one-third described it as miserable period marked by abuses, low wages, and the absence of democracy.
I find it strange that some people recall Martial Law as a time of stability, even though the economy collapsed in 1984 as Marcos defaulted on the IMF loans. Unemployment was widespread, wages lay frozen, infrastructure halted, but somehow the eyewitnesses can recall the good times. For instance, in Tondo, one family remembered peace and quiet, while blocks away, there were “SONAS” where homes were raided and men subjected to strip searches. What was calm for some was terror for others.
Perhaps part of the explanation comes from Catanduanes again, quoting Velasco: “What the Marcos years did to us was not only to manufacture what we think, but to condition how we should think. We were trained to conform to the routines of checking the cleanliness of our fingernails, the length of our hair, the number of people allowed to gather in public places. We were told who was law abiding, and how to react when a public enemy is caught or killed by government agents. . . What if the past was believing that banning public meetings of more than ten people was for public safety and not for controlling the movements of the community? What if the past was being told to feel safe because the military jailed and killed subversives?”
Perhaps this was the reason many believed Martial Law was good – because people felt safe, and there were enforced rules made for the welfare of the nation. The media was censored, and the people were not given an alternative account. Yet even after the corruption of the Marcos family was exposed, Filipinos continued to see corruption in the subsequent line of presidents. So, they think nothing much has changed, ignoring the democratic space that has been carved out for them. There is a feeling that corruption is endemic to the system, and that there is no salvation since all politicians are corrupt.
Yet the book is written by those who are idealists, who witnessed atrocities, saw comrades killed, and friends jailed. These writers had no regrets. They can help us point the way out of the corruption that we still face today. The fight for ideals is alive and still being fought.
The header features a montage of the Mga Daso book cover. Contributed photos by Greg Castilla. The book can be purchased from the University of the Philippines Press. Click the link to learn more: https://press.up.edu.ph/product/mga-daso-stories-of-martial-law-in-bikol/
About the book reviewer
Dr. Jonathan Foe earned his undergraduate degree in History in the United States and subsequently obtained a masters in teaching at the Jesuit-run Seattle University. He received his doctorate from the University of Santo Tomas in 2014, where he taught until 2018. He currently teaches at Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila.