Tambuling Batangas Publication January 03-09, 2018 | Page 4

OPINYON Enero 03-09, 2018 Lingguhang Pahayagan ng Lalawigan ng Batangas na inilalathala tuwing Miyerkules / PRINTING PLANT: Sinag Publishing & Printing Services, National Highway, Brgy. Parian, Calamba City, Laguna. Tel nos. (049) 834-6261 & (049) 5763112 / Subscription fee: One year P360.00 Six Months: P180.00 / Commercial Advertising rate: P160 per column cm / MEMBER: Publisher’s Association of the Philippines, Inc. (PAPI) / Raia Jennifer E. Dela Peña Managing Editor / P.L. Villa, RC Asa Contributing Editors / Shara Jane Falceso, Rachelle Joy Aquino, Jacquilou Lirio, Maria Carlyn Ureta staff writers / Ruel T. Landicho Lay-out Artist/ Ms. Corazon D.P. Marcial, Amber D.C Vitto Legal Consultant. email add: [email protected] & [email protected] The last homily ARNOLD ALAMON THE death of well-loved priest Fr. Tito Paez of the Rural Missionaries of the Philippines from the bullets of brutal assassins in Nueva Ecija obviously sprung into action by Duterte’s declaration of war versus the left after the failure of the peace talks should not be forgotten nor ignored. I believe that when a new generation of Filipinos will look back on the notorious but brief rule of the man from the South many years into the future, they will look at the martyrdom of Fr. Tito as a watershed of sorts. They will have the benefit of hindsight decades onwards and they will see that the popular but brutal regime of the folkish dictator began to slowly unravel and lose legitimacy when his madness for order and absolute power eventually victimized a man of the cloth who have taken sides with the poor and oppressed. Last December 4, 2017, Fr. Tito responded to a request of a political detainee just released from prison for assistance. The family feared that he could be in danger once he stepped out behind bars given the climate of impunity prevailing in the country. It was a well-founded fear as motorcycle riding men were seen tailing Fr. Tito’s vehicle when the priest picked them up. Thinking of the safety of everyone, online accounts reveal that the priest arranged for the transfer of the released political prisoner and his family to another vehicle in the parking lot of a parish. The plan was to use his vehicle as a decoy in order for the political prisoner and his family to lose the threat. His fears were proven true when the same motorcycle riding men again followed Fr. Tito’s vehicle and on an appointed portion of the street overtook and then fired nine bullets at the passenger side. The attack was meant to kill the just released political prisoner if he was still riding the tinted vehicle. However, two of these bullets mortally wounded the priest. Witnesses report that Fr. Tito was able to shout to his assassins, “I am priest!” but they still fired their shots anyway. Those were the last words of the “martyr” as the CBCP statement condemning his death correctly asserts. The declaration that he was a member of the ministry of Christ as the assassins peppered his vehicle with bullets was a poignant and powerful final act. In those final and pained three words, the priest was able to give his last homily. And he leaves us with powerful lessons about faith, discernment, and sacrifice. If he only had the opportunity to explain his convictions beyond the seconds it took for the bullets to take away his life, he might probably put it this way: “Yes, I am a priest and have devoted my life to follow in the footsteps of Christ! For me this meant, following in His ministry for the poor and the oppressed. If someone were to come to me for shelter and protection, following the compassion that Christ showed others, I would do so unhesitatingly and with great conviction even if this meant putting my own life in danger. Yes, I am priest and my faith in God’s justness and righteousness is no match to the fear I may have over bullets and leaving this mortal life violently. I am a priest that means that I do not have the luxury to vacillate between whose ministry I should serve. Christ was clear on whose side he was on. In the balance of forces, He stood as I may stand and fall on the side of the poor and oppressed, even those who may have learned to fight back!” Fr. Tito’s last homily should be an inspiration for the religious and non-religious. All throughout, his service to the poor had been the hallmark of his life. To die for a brother in shared solidarity for our common causes in the hands of a murderous State was his final Christian act worthy of our emulation. We are not lacking for silent but inspiring acts of heroism as a people. Fr. Tito’s life and death is evidence of this. It is just sickening that this murderous State under Duterte, who has opened up a new frontier of death targeting members of legal progressive organizations, will have easy pickings among many who are ready to martyr themselves for the same righteous reasons as Fr. Tito did. LELOY MCCARTHY PART 3 INSTEAD of criticizing the fascism of the US-backed Duterte regime, Claudio chose to highlight the “bloody history” of Communists, the regime’s target. Beyond his essay’s “timing,” however, the greater problem lies in his one-sided and ahistorical understanding of killings supposedly done in the name of Communism. One-sided: he did not at least study how Communists and even some academic historians explain these deaths and instead simply parroted the US Cold War line on these. Ahistorical: he did not locate these supposed crimes and excesses in their proper historical contexts. First, he fails to situate the struggles for Communism that he cites in the context of underdevelopment, people’s suffering and war. Second, he also fails to situate governments adhering to Communism in the context of the state of siege imposed by the US and other Western powers through wars, embargo, sabotage, and other measures. Imperialist policy on Communist governments is reflected by the order of then-US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger to weaken the democratically-elected socialist government of Salvador Allende in Chile in the early 1970s: “Make the economy scream.” Let us be clear: these contexts do not excuse the deaths that occurred under the name of Communism, but they provide a better understanding of these. There were deaths that were committed by Communists in error, but it would be erroneous to remove all deaths in the Communist movement and Communist-inspired governments from their historical contexts and present them as evils of Communism. Third, Claudio fails to recognize how Communist movements drew lessons and learned from errors committed in the past that resulted in the death of many. Fourth, if the number of deaths caused by a political and economic system is the standard by which it should be measured, then Claudio should have examined the immensely more numerous killings committed in the name of “liberal democracy” and imperialism – which include those who were killed in many a bloody anti-Communist campaign. Alas, Claudio always prefers the caudillo over the cadre. He cites Robert Francis Garcia’s book To Suffer Thy Comrades [2001] as proof that local Communists are also murderous. The fact that the killings discussed in the book were committed in a small fraction of the Philippine Left’s more than 50-year history shows that the context of those killings is important. Again, Claudio does not present that context: military adventurist errors committed by the NPA, heightened government intelligence and attacks, and errors in the NPA’s handling of alleged infiltrators. The fact that the said errors have not been repeated is proof that such killings are not integral to the principles of Communism. It is also proof that local Communists can sum up their experiences, correctly derive lessons from these, and hold on to those lessons in practice. When Claudio says “It is the moral obligation of the historian in the Philippines to speak about Communism’s bloody history,” he wants that history extracted from its wider historical context. He refuses to study and engage with the best explanations that Communism has to offer for its own history, instead contenting himself with US Cold War propaganda. It is telling that Claudio claims that Communism’s central principle is “from each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs.” This is central, but secondary to the abolition of private property. He betrays his failure to study Communism itself – in fact, its basic text, The Communist Manifesto – and his reliance on ready-made Cold War propaganda. It is uncanny that Claudio speaks in terms of “moral obligation” when in the same essay he joins the chorus of the government and the military in tagging legal progressive organizations as “Communist fronts.” The government and the military will not listen to his faint appeals for Communists’ human rights, but their repressive campaign – already in motion carried out by dominant forces in society – will benefit from his demonization of Communists and alleged Communist fronts. It seems that for Claudio, historians and academics also have the moral obligation to lend a hand to the government and the military’s drive to kill and suppress suspected Communists. Claudio always speaks with the arrogance of someone who thinks that he stands for democracy while his enemies, the Communists, stand for dictatorship. He even calls the CPP a “dictatorial organization.” The strict equation that Claudio makes between democracy and liberal democracy exposes his ignorance. Wendy Brown clarifies: “liberal democracy, Euro-Atlantic modernity’s dominant form, is only one variant of the sharing of political power connoted by the venerable Greek term. Demos + cracy = rule of the people and contrasts with aristocracy, oligarchy, tyranny, and also with a condition of being colonized or occupied… The term carries a simple and purely political claim that the people rule themselves, that the whole rather than the part or an Other is politically sovereign [“We are all democrats now…,” 2011]. More importantly, in class societies, “Democracy and dictatorship are two sides of a coin,” said Francisco Nemenzo, Jr. [“Questioning Marx, Critiquing Marxism,” 1992]. In capitalist democracies, the democracy enjoyed by big capitalists is imposed as a dictatorship on workers and the people, whose only democratic participation is voting during elections. Socialist democracy is the dictatorship of the proletariat imposed on the big bourgeoisie, and since it is enjoyed by the majority beyond regular elections, it is a democracy that is deeper and more real. In the end, Claudio’s anti-Communism coheres with the strategy summarized by American Marxist Fredric Jameson: “The substitution of politics for economics was always a key move in the hegemonic struggle against Marxism (as in the substitution of questions of freedom for those of exploitation) [“Sartre’s Critique, Volume 2: An Introduction,” 2009].” Instead of fighting to change the exploitative, unequal, unjust and violent ruling system, anti-Communists like Claudio fight the very Communists who are risking life and limb for such change – using Communism’s “bloody history” as bogeyman. In more arrogant moments in his essays and social media posts, Claudio celebrates US influence over the country, the Philippines’ “liberal democracy,” and the Yellow faction of the ruling classes. It is in this precise sense – anti-Communism defending the status quo and attacking those who want genuine change – that we can say: anti-Communism can never be responsible. It is always irresponsible. So are the academics and historians that peddle it. 14 December 2017