D: What was the memorial?
L: It was for Jules’ lawyer-brother, his second death anniversary. Actually this year we celebrated death memorials several times. The first was the fifth anniversary of the five killed in Antique, and after that of Tay Baler. It was a series. We realized how important memorials were to keep alive a movement and to keep it vigorous by looking back to its heroes. It’s been good for families who suffered sorrow. And it’s been good for the new generation who would not know these heroes if we didn’t introduce them. At least they have models to follow. As you know, there are also negative models. [Laughs.] Some of us just lie low, no involvement. That’s offset by these examples, many of them young, in their 20s, who gave their lives for the cause.
Those young people I was with in Antique who were killed were only 20, 22, like Ferdie. When young people hear this—we invited Ferdie’s father to speak here, he didn’t read his speech, just letters from Ferdie that he put together—young people were very impressed by his intelligence that was reflected in his writing.
Tony Tagamolila, Tony Hilario also… In UP, progressive students can get over-involved in activism. When they see how these past activists were, they realize that the latter didn’t let their studies go to pot. You see, now the trend in LFS is to set the “four pillars” straight: activism, family, studies, self. There was a time when LFS was an association of flunkers, repeaters, etc. If students become activists, that doesn’t mean that they should rebel against their mothers and fathers.
D: Is this a different way of thinking, or the same as during your time?
L: It wasn’t formalized in our time. Now I think it’s better since after all, we old-time activists are now parents ourselves. [Laughs.] During our time we had no examples to emulate. It used to be, if you didn’t like your mother’s discipline, you left home. Now, even that is taken into account.
D: In your view, is that better?
L: Oh yes. Now, for example, LFS members will call mothers and introduce themselves. If the mothers don’t approve of their children’s joining, it’s okay. But there are many mothers who approve and like the fact that they’re approached by the organization. In the past, no such thing took place.
D: That’s an excellent development, isn’t it?
L: Yes. Some parents are taken aback and express disapproval, but let their children decide for themselves anyway. But parents say they like being approached and given respect in this way.
D: The split in Manila (RA vs. RJ) hasn’t affected Iloilo?
L: I think Iloilo has been heavily affected, Negros, especially. What we observed is that even among NGOs… RJ took over quite a few NGOs, especially those with funds. For example, what happened in Negros with alter-trade…there was a support-Negros campaign where it wasn’t dole-outs but the setting up of a trading arm concentrated in [producing] balangon and muscovado sugar for export. In the beginning shipping just to Mindanao, then later on to other countries. The goal of alter-trade is to help small planters. (One of my siblings is a small grower.) This was picked up by RJ in Negros. I’m sure you know that RJ also suffered splits into two; I’m not well acquainted with these two groups.
D: Were your parents always in support of your cause?
L: My mother said once, my daughter seemed to be so good, why did she turn out like this? [Laughs.] Of all my children, she seemed the most tranquil. And she ended up a rebel. One of my sisters was also in the movement. I have two brothers who became activists along with me, but after their arrest, they dropped out.
My mother said about me, “But she, even after many arrests, she didn’t give up.” [Laughs.]
D: So you had two brothers also arrested?
L: Yes, two older ones. My mother wondered why I’d stay in the movement. After all, of all things, I’m a woman!
D: Were you upper-middle class?
L: Yes, but my Lolos and Lolas had a petty-landlord mentality, and they were the ones who pressured my parents.
D: Did they try to convince you to get out?
L: Well, when you’re immersed in the movement, you don’t really think about those pressures, unless you yourself weaken inside. It was my father who asked, don’t you have any plans of coming back to a normal life? I replied, how can I do that? My father said, after all you’ve done, for your own good you should not weaken. Before I left, he told me: if you should give up at all do it now before you burn a lot of bridges, but do not give up later. He gave a business analogy.
My mother, of course, came to see me in the stockade when I was confined with criminals, and she cried. She stayed with me through hunger strikes and offered, “Do you want me to join you?” Contributed to (Bulatlat.com)
Delia D. Aguilar most recently taught women’s studies at the University of Connecticut and will be assuming the visiting position of Jane Watson Irwin Chair in women’s studies at Hamilton College this coming academic year. Her book Women and Globalization underscores the need to understand women’s labor as the motor of production in globalization.
