For martial law survivors, the essence of EDSA remains after 39 years

Tuesday afternoon of February 25th is hot, but not scorching to the point that it will leave a burn on someone's skin. Most of them wear black, some wear yellow, blue, red, or orange, depending on where they belong, while others wear none of these colors. Some of them were students who walked out of their classes because their institution failed to suspend the scheduled meetings and sessions. There were also teachers, jeepney drivers, priests, nuns, and bishops who amid the clamor of the masses, were busy praying in front. 

There are many of them…

Last in line were martial law survivors, who had different tales to share. They were there just like the others—wielding placards and banners summoning the government for accountability, impeachment of Sara Duterte, wage increase, resumption of peace talks, and for the martial law not to happen anew. 

‘Never again, never forget’ as they say. 

They came from various sectors, and of also varying ages, but they gathered under the not-that-scorching heat of the afternoon of February 25 while sharing a common goal—systemic change. 

It was in EDSA, a famous avenue known for overthrowing a two-decade dictatorship, where vehicles move swiftly on the left lane as a wide-scale protest attended by thousands was about to commence on the other in commemoration of the 39th anniversary of the bloodless uprising. Beside them are the seemingly respectable policemen wearing their glossy blue uniforms tucked in their dark navy blue pants, with their black shoes sparkling under the glowing sun. But just right before the march, the police confiscated the licences of jeepney drivers driving towards the avenue with progressive students onboard.

The 25th of February is a busy day for many—both students and employees—after Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos did not declare it as a special non-working holiday for the second consecutive year, turning it into a special working holiday instead. Several institutions have already declared suspension of classes ahead of EDSA’s 39th anniversary, including big institutions like the University of Santo Tomas, Adamson University, and the University of the Philippines (alternative learning day), among others. 

Ironically, the Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP) is not on the list. Despite having the mural of Dambana ng Kagitingan displayed on its main gate; naming a building after the first martial law desaparecido Prof. Charlie Del Rosario; having a martial law political prisoner with former president Nemesio Prudente, and having a supposedly progressive president Manuel Muhi—the university remained firm in its decision to continue classes. This decision from the PUP administration has agitated and forced more than a thousand students to walk out of their classes to conduct a protest at the main campus early morning before the main program in the EDSA People Power Monument.  

Despite these ironies and attempts to distort the narrative of a past known by many, that afternoon of the very same day, people gathered under the sun's heat while the classes and work were still going on. 

Martial law in a nutshell 

History would later make the surname Marcos infamous even on the global stage. His name left an indelible mark etched in the hearts and minds of those who experienced the series of atrocities and violence during his regime. But prior to the dramatic ousting of the so-called strongman through the EDSA uprising, is a successful attempt to prolong himself in power. 

Marcos’ dictatorship lasted 21 years, with nine being spent under martial law. He declared that the Philippines would undergo martial law on September 23, 1972, just two days after the signing of Proclamation No. 1108. The reason, according to Marcos, is the growing number of communist insurgencies, including the Plaza Miranda bombing in 1971, which prompted him to suspend the writ of habeas corpus. However, there are claims that some high-ranking officials were already aware of Marcos' plan to declare martial law, including the US Embassy and even the late Senator Benigno Aquino, who in his 1972 speech, revealed what he knew about Oplan Sagittarius. 

Under martial law, the dictator Marcos seized full control of the government and the media. Through the Letter of Instruction No. 1-A, the tyrant ordered the closure of all media outlets, including media giant ABS-CBN, due to the suspicion of being subversive against the government and alleged ties to the Communist Party of the Philippines. Crony press were the only ones allowed to publish articles and to air during that time. The massive media censorship gave birth to what was called the mosquito press. Aside from censorship, journalists were either incarcerated or killed. According to data by the National Press Club, at least 19 journalists have been killed since 1976.  

Aside from media repression, martial law is also responsible for forced disappearances, torture, arrests, and other human rights violations against dissenters and suspected rebels. Amnesty International reported that 3,200 lives were claimed, around 35,000 experienced torture, and 70,000 were detained in what was considered one of the darkest chapters in Philippine history. 

Narrating the untold

For the victims of martial law and those who experienced it, its horror remains to haunt them even in broad daylight—39 years since EDSA. The wounds inflicted on them remained fresh and vivid in their memories. Many of the martial law survivors are grandfathers and grandmothers now, but they continue to live to share their experiences and narratives with the current generation who seem to forget this dark era. 

Percival Palmes (left) and Danilo Dela Fuente (right) during an interview on EDSA Commemoration. 

Among them were Percival Palmes, 74, and Danilo Dela Fuente, 76. They were both imprisoned at the peak of martial law—Palmes was charged with subversion, sedition, and rebellion, while Dela Fuente was detained under the anti-subversion law. They were activists way back in college. Palmes studied at Araneta University Foundation which is now De La Salle University Araneta, while Dela Fuente is a graduate of PUP, formerly known as the Philippine College of Commerce (PCC). 

“Kasi ‘pag ikaw kasi, kami, right ng mga estudyante, basta lumaban ka sa pamahalaan, ang tawag sa iyo, NPA, komunista,” Palmes recalled. 

Palmes and Dela Fuente recounted their experiences during martial law. According to Palmes, those who were imprisoned weren't called political detainees but instead, either communists or Public Order Violators (POV). During his detention, he suffered torture at the hands of the military. He also shared that during his youth, he was a former member of the NUSP or the National Union of Students of the Philippines. Palmes also recalled how organized the youth was when it came to rallies and mass movements. 

“Noong panahon namin, mas matindi ang estudyante. Nagkakaisa kami kaysa ngayon. Noong araw kasi mas konektado talaga ‘yong communication ng estudyante buong Visayas at Mindanao… Pagka nag-rally dito sa Maynila, nagpapadala lang ng sulat sa Visayas at Mindanao, sabay-sabay iyon, synchronized,” he said. 

“So ngayon, nagbaba ang martial law, so kanya-kanyang takas,” Palmes added. 

During EDSA, according to him, the streets were filled with people who barricaded the huge tanks of the military. He was with the nuns and the masses to corner General Tadiar, who at that time, refused to do the kill order instructed to him. The memories of EDSA are still vivid to Palmes, who even pointed at the exact location where the military tanks were positioned 39 years ago. 

“Noong 1986 talaga grabe, puno ito. Wala pa ‘yong Robinson. ‘Yong Robinson nandiyan, ‘yong tangke, do’n ‘yong tangke na hinarang naman,” he said while referring to the spot where the Robinson's Galleria currently erected.

Meanwhile, Dela Fuente shared a different story. He was still a 23-year-old student-activist when martial law was imposed. He was in every mobilization; he was there during the first State of the Nation Address (SONA) of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. in 1966 at the Old Legislative Building, now the National Museum, in which he said they numbered thousands. He was there with the other activists when they fought for the State Universities and Colleges’ Funds. He was there when the studentry successfully took the property in Pureza and Lepanto from the National Development Corporation to further develop the old campus of PCC. Dela Fuente also joined the Battle of Mendiola in January 1970 which resulted in a violent dispersal and death of four student activists.

Dela Fuente was also in the human barricade to protest for oil price hikes, he also joined transport strikes which eventually led him to be a labor leader. He was there when the sales ladies of a department store in Carriedo held a strike. They marched towards Plaza Miranda, which he said was the main rally center before Mendiola, where fire trucks awaited and dispersed them by harshly splashing water. He can still remember how the sales ladies he was referring to helped them escape arrest. 

“...Ginawa ng mga sales ladies, binuksan ‘yong mga pintuan ng tindahan, pinapasok kami. Pinapasok kami sa loob at bago isinara, para hindi mahuli. Tapos, ‘yong mga t-shirt naming basa, pinapalitan ng mga bargain… Iwan na raw namin iyon, tapos magsuot raw kami ng bagong t-shirt na hindi basa tapos ‘non, pinalabas na kami,” Dela Fuente recalled. 

“Kaya nung nag-sa-saturation, nag-sa-saturate na ‘yong Metrocom, hindi na kami nahuli. [Humalo] na kami roon sa pedestrian,” he added. 

However, Dela Fuente wasn't able to avoid arrest for a long time. Ten years after martial law was enacted, he and his fellow activists were seized when the military raided their place in General Luis Street, Novaliches while conducting a meeting. He was detained for four years and was released just a day after Marcos Sr. was ousted from power. 

During martial law, resistance knows no gender 

Martial law has caused total unrest in the society. Some say that days and nights were tranquil during its effectiveness—but only because critics were put into silence. They were either killed, tortured, detained, or even put into an eternal disappearance. But many had the guts to fight back, and some of them were women. 

Nymia Simbulan is one of them. She wasn't killed, tortured, or put into disappearance but she fought back. Just like Palmes and Dela Fuente, Simbulan was arrested and filed with cases of subversion. She is now at the age of 70, but she was only in her teenage years when martial law was declared. Simbulan is an activist in college. She was studying at the University of the Philippines Manila and was an active student leader. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to finish her degree after her arrest. 

Nymia Simbulan (left) and Nilda Fullon (right) during an interview on EDSA Commemoration

“So, I was closely watched hanggang sa umabot nga doon sa puntong nahuli ako with what they referred to as subversive materials. That resulted to my arrest and imprisonment for six months sa Camp Crame and then sa Fort Bonifacio,” she told.

Prior to her arrest, Simbulan was able to witness how campus militarization flourished in UP Manila. She said that during martial law, students must undergo a checkpoint first before entering their campus. 

“...Before you enter the campus, the military or the police would inspect your things. Iniisip nila, baka may mga subversive materials inserted inside your notebook, your personal belongings,” she stated. 

Due to campus militarization, the operations of their student council halted and they could not even conduct room-to-room discussions because the military forbade them to do so. Even the campus paper, she said, was prohibited from publishing articles. 

“In fact, kung tatlo kayo, pagsususpetsahan na kayo na you may be doing something illegal,” said Simbulan. 

Since rallies were not allowed during martial law, Simbulan and her fellow activists hold what they call a lightning rally in places where there is little to no military and police presence. However, immediate dispersal is needed because the police and military will immediately look for those who led the demonstration. 

But not everyone who dared to stand up and confront Marcos Sr. and his martial law are activists. Some of them are just ordinary people, living their mundane lives, wanting nothing but peace, yet tasting the wrath of the iron fist. Among them is Nilda Fullon, who at that time was just a 14-year old highschool student when the Philippines underwent martial law. 

Fullon is not progressive nor an activist, but she was arrested one day on her way home from school. 

“...Inaresto ako. Naglalakad lang ako pauwi mula sa school, hinuli ako at kinulong [nang] tatlong buwan ni Marcos,” Fullon stated. 

During her detention, Fullon experienced sexual harassment at the hands of her captors. 

“[Sexually] molested ako, hubo’t hubad, wala akong kasalanan, ‘di ako aktibista,” Fullon reiterated. 

That arrest made her outraged. Fullon eventually joined and organized unions. Marcos Sr. himself is the one who recruited her to be an activist. 

“Kaya si Marcos ang recruiter ko para maging aktibista. Kasi kung hindi niya ako pinakialaman, ‘di niya ako inaresto, sana hindi ako nag-organisa ng mga union, ng mga maralitang taga-lungsod, ng mga estudyante. Pero dahil inaresto ako, tatlong buwang nakulong, tigil ako sa pag-aaral dahil kapag bumalik ako sa eskwelahan, ikukulong din ulit ako. Kaya lumaban na lang ako, nag-organisa. Nagpunta sa mga pabrika, nagtayo ng union kasi grabe ang sitwasyon ng manggagawa,” she narrated.  

She also mentioned that during martial law, workers and laborers are in harsh conditions. Human rights violations were also rampant, and the country's economic status was deteriorating to the point that there was little to no rice to be bought from every market. 

“Armed Forces ang nagbebenta ng bigas. Para maibsan nila ‘yon, sinimulan nila ‘yong rice importation. Doon na nagsimula ang importation ng bigas kaya ‘di na nila inasikaso pinalago ang agrikultura natin. Puro na lang importation hanggang ngayon ‘yan,” Fullon claimed. 

In 2024, the Philippines imported 4.7 million metric tons of rice, and is expected to reach 4.9 million this year. This makes us the largest rice importer in the world. 

Fullon received no apology from the Marcoses; she claimed only a handful of compensation, but it's nothing compared to the agony she experienced at the hands of the military who captured her and her youth. 

In EDSA, E stands for ‘eternal’

Even after almost four decades, the lessons and essence of EDSA remain to those who experienced it. Its heroic tale will be passed on generation after generation and will be remembered until justice has been served at last to those who suffered under the martial law and tyranny of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. Not even the declaration of a special working holiday in the last two years would erase its narrative. 

For Palmes, EDSA should never be forgotten until there is already a systemic change. He will forever be reminded of EDSA because that time, people gathered without promoting any political interests. 

For Dela Fuente, everyone should be reminded of people's power, that if they act collectively, they could overthrow an authoritarian. For him, change could only be achieved when people act together. 

For Simbulan, EDSA will never be forgotten as long as there are groups and sectors that consciously try to make people remember this dark era. The lessons of EDSA will remain as long as there are professors who are willing to teach their students how the Filipinos once ousted a dictator. 

For Fullon, nobody will forget EDSA as long as the people are reminded how democracy and the right to free speech and press freedom were killed during the regime of Marcos Sr. The collective power of each and everyone is a constant reminder of how powerful we are against oppressive regimes.

Apart from the lessons taught by EDSA, people should not also forget the tales of those who survived martial law. The stories of Palmes, Dela Fuente, Simbulan, and Fullon may serve as a reminder to everyone to choose a leader who will always make human rights an utmost priority. 

Tuesday afternoon of February 25th is hot, but not scorching to the point that it will leave a burn on someone's skin. What remained blistering that day was the call for justice for all the injustices caused by a fascist regime. 

That afternoon, the temperature was humid, but what remained blazing was the spirit of struggle that EDSA taught to each and every one who marched along EDSA, a famous avenue in the metro known for ending a dictatorship. 

Article by: Paul Bryan Bio

Contributors: El Alberto, Chloe Reodica, Anne Dela Merced, Elijah Pineda, Jan Amarila, Ara Palisoc, Kristine Jhoy Castulo