EDDIE BOY ESCUDERO, PHOTOGRAPHER

THE LONG VIEW
Inquirer


MANILA, Philippines - Perhaps you've seen a movie titled "V for Vendetta," truly a film for our times. In it, a masked man known only as "V" interrupts the state-controlled media and makes an unauthorized televised address to a London in the grip of a totalitarian prime minister.


The speech of V goes like this. It bears reading in full.



"Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of everyday routine—the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever, be forgot."



Every year, on this day, British schoolchildren recite the rhyme, "Remember, remember, the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason, and plot," commemorating a failed conspiracy by Guy Fawkes to blow up the Houses of Parliament along with King James I. Recently, The Economist in an editorial on the growing dangers of radical religion referred to Fawkes as "the Catholic Taliban," but in "V for Vendetta," the story revolves around a resistance to a British dictatorship with the former bad guy of British history turned into a symbol of resistance. And in small yet meaningful ways, resistance is what's called for these days.



But how? Not by blowing things up or giving the authorities the satisfaction of beating us up, or, God forbid, inconveniencing those who value the smooth traffic flow more than they care about the disappearance of Jonas Burgos, or inconveniencing the congressmen in cassocks known as the Catholic bishops. So what can we do, that allows us to be considerate of the politically blind, but which will show that we are aware, awake, and not in awe of the authorities?



Consider that the prime message of the government that adores your tax pesos so it can serve up cash buffets in the presidential palace you own, is this: they are all the same. This is meant to discourage your thinking of alternatives, because if all the alternatives are like what we have, better the devil in the duster you already have, to any other devil waiting in the wings. But this argument is only good as long as you agree that indeed, you are like them: that when they say they are all the same, they include you.



Are you really like them? Is the congressman or governor waddling out of Malacañang with a doggie bag full of money, the same as you? Of course not. When they shriek, "let he who is without sin, cast the first stone," they forget the number of guests at the cash buffet didn't include millions like yourself. But OK, let's not cast stones. Let's send something peaceful but equally painful: words on postcard.



Which is why, this Friday, we're going to meet at the Ninoy statue in Makati between 11 and 12 noon, and proceed to the Makati Post Office to mail our postcards to Ms Arroyo. We won't make speeches, we won't wave banners, we won't say anything except what will be on our postcards, and it will come from individuals and be sent to an individual, to tell her exactly what we feel. Join us. Bring a friend. Sacrifice an hour of your time. Be among those who cast the first postcards to be sent to the President's desk in Malacañang.


Remember, remember, the ninth of November, a postcard, a lunch break, and march!

(thank you, kat, for the email. see you fri. :<))