WE WILL NOT BE SILENT BY KIRA RABUT AZZAM

This summer I learned to listen and really hear; I learned to pay attention and hear the unspoken words; I learned that sometimes, you have to come out of your comfortable silence, and be the voice you didn’t know you had.

We left early July 19th, Sunday morning from San Francisco to arrive in Manila late Monday evening. Though only six of us left this morning, ten people made up our delegation: the California-Nevada Methodist Bishop, his wife, three pastors, a lay leader, three seminary students, and one college student.

Our journey began as we six, one pastor, one lay leader, and four students, escorted Melissa Roxas, a Filipino-American activist on her return to the Philippines to give testimony to the abduction and torturing she had endured a month earlier. Melissa, who is a member of Bagong Alayansang Makabayan USA, was working for two years as a health worker in the Philippines when she was abducted with John Edward Jandoc and Juanito Carabeo on May 19th, by whom she believes to be members of the Philippine military. They were beaten, tortured, and falsely accused of being insurgents of the New People’s Army, a group that is fighting an underground war against the Philippines’ military. She refused to sign papers incriminating her and suffered for it.  Melissa was later released by promising to comply with her abductors. She surfaced May 25th, and returned quickly thereafter to her home in the U.S. We hoped to ensure her safety back, but the truth is, we stood with her and traveled with her as companions, as she faced a very difficult road. We too, were scared for her, and knew that what she was doing was dangerous.

It is important to confront injustice and evil, and Melissa continues to fight for herself and other victims of torture and oppression. What was even more real was her passion and fire for justice. It was not rage or resentment at being abused, but a deep and powerful drive to do what is right.  This is something I cannot completely explain, but it was what I saw and felt in the people that I met there.  It was an honor to be in the presence of a real hero.

Upon her arrival, Melissa was met by Leila de Lima, chair of the Commission on Human Rights, Father Rex Reyes, secretary of the National Council of Churches, and Bayan Muna, partylist representative Satur Ocampo, as she faced a swarm of media. We watched in awe until it was time for us to leave.

The remainder of the trip was spent learning more about the human rights situation in the Philippines and meeting with different groups who responded to injustices on a day to day basis. Although we did attend the public hearing at the House of Representatives, and the testimony given at the Commission on Human Rights for Melissa, we were not allowed entry on July 30th, the day Melissa testified at the Court of Appeals.

Hosted by the NCCP

, our group got first hand experience at meeting with people in the community and documenting specific offenses. We met with people from the ecumenical community such as the Ecumenical Mission for Peace and Development, the Ecumenical Women’s Group, Kapatiran Kaunlaran Foundation, which provides social services to men, women and children in Manila.

While the current President, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, has been called one of the world’s most corrupt and brutal leaders, there are still some in the government who call for peace and justice and actively advocate for human rights. One such person, Chief Justice Reynato Puno, the only chief justice not appointed by GMA, was kind enough to spend some time with our group to talk about hopeful approaches and implemented policy that might bring change to a much needed situation - the ongoing oppression of the Filipino people. We also attended a Peace Forum between the two government groups who are attempting to reopen peace talks between the government and the New People’s Army.

After meeting with organizations in Manila, our delegation continued on by traveling to two different regions of Luzon: Rizal and Bicol. I was in the group that went to the province of Albay, region, Bicol. We were met by two pastors, both named Dan, who were our guides for the four days we spent there. We met with families living in a fishing village, that were cut off from the water because of a commercialized port that the government had built up. There was a wall that separated them from the water - but not only was their livelihood now stolen, they were concealed behind the wall so that traders and tourists and anyone at the ports would never have to see them or face them. Their neighboring village was being torn down to make room for a concrete road for travelers to get from the airport to the new ports and attractions of the Embarcadero. The modernization and development, which is important to any country, had in this case cut off resources and development for the people living here, people that had lived here for many years. There is no program in place to relocate, compensate or reeducate the people affected; instead they are ignored.

A few days later, 14 of us rode for an hour in a 7 seat van, to visit the home of a family that had been horribly devastated by the clashes between the military and the NPA. Less than a mile from the home we would visit, we passed the military camp with armed soldiers standing in front guarding it’s gates.

We spoke with a woman who sat with her seven children surrounding her, as she explained that her husband and her father had been killed because they had been wrongly suspected of being insurgents for the NPA. While she spoke, her eyes moved above our heads as she monitored her front yard, checking for the military. We knew as well as she, that because she had told us what she’d encountered, she risked her life. But, that’s how important it was. Her fire and her hope for justice was what welcomed us into her home, even in the face of death.

We also met with a family who’d been deeply affected by the Balikatan Exercises in their region. These exercises are labeled in each region as “humanitarian missions” and are set up in schools where the US military trains the Philippines’ military. During these efforts, if someone is hurt or killed, or property is damaged, as long as it’s part of military exercises, the US is not held accountable. So the family that we met with had nowhere to go when their house was blown up, and one of their children killed by shrapnel from the explosion. The other three children and their mother still have scars and pieces of shrapnel imbedded in their skin. The mother insisted that she is not resentful of the military, but there must be justice. There must be punishment for wrong that is done, and the government should look after its people. It’s wrong for a people to live in fear of living.

On our last day in Bicol, our group marched in the People’s March, where we stopped and gathered for a rally in front of the Philippines National Police Station. Voices rang out about the barbaric mistreatment people are facing because of a government that is afraid to listen to its people. Their voices would not be silenced, and their spirits could not be broken. For all those who have suffered under this regime, their stories will not be lost or forgotten. For all those who have died fighting, speaking truth to a face that only spews lies and corruption, their fight perseveres through us.

Later that same day, we sat around a television at a local church and watched the SONA (State of the Nation Address) as Pres. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo spoke words of unsubstantial encouragement and gave undeserving congratulations to her government for their efforts; claiming at one point that 86% of Filipinos have health insurance. The fact that she even had the nerve to say that is a disgrace and indignant.

So, after four days in Bicol and Rizal, the delegation gathered back in Manila, where we spent the remaining days meeting with various government officials and groups: the Commission on Human Rights, the National Democratic Front, and the Government of the Republic of the Philippines.

I don’t know that anyone can really be prepared for what we saw, what we heard, and what we experienced. My first feeling was shame.  Shame because with all the good the US tries to do in other countries, we go for the “big picture” and forget about the innocent people whose lives are hurt, trampled or destroyed in the process.  Ashamed because we are so taken in with the cheers and accolades for being the good ones who teach and support the militia, that we fail to see or hear the voices of the villagers or even fellow Americans who become collateral damage.  Ashamed of the colonialism and imperialism that became blatantly obvious as soon as we got off the plane. My first taste of the Philippines was the faces on billboards that looked like my Filipino family’s but with white skin, on posters in English, advertising skin-whitening. It is difficult to stand in solidarity with a people that are basically being occupied by the people I am representing. I’ve come to understand that our presence there not only brought a different voice as an American, but it was important for us to be there because we are American. We are part of a country that is privileged in many ways and has the power and ability to make change. Our government supplies the Philippine government with a large stipend that is in turn being used for military “needs” - which are then used in part to train a military that is killing, abducting, torturing, and forcing activists, students, journalists, pastors, and many more to be silenced. As a conscious human being it is our responsibility to do what is right and to stand for what is right, even when it’s difficult or unpopular, or scary. No matter what you think or what you believe, there are times in life that you just have to open your heart and be a witness to life.

The delegation left on July 31, 2009. The voices and the stories and the faces of the people are not just an experience we journeyed through. We have listened to their stories and heard their voices. We have felt their spirits and their hope, and their passion, and we will continue to fight for justice for them, along side them. We will not give up - We will not be silent.