Martial Law in History

Context is key in understanding any historical event. The whys and the hows, those questions that provide a firm grasp of the times, are paramount. We know that forty years ago, on September 23, 1972, Ferdinand Marcos declared Martial Law through Proclamation No. 1081. We know that what followed was fourteen years of systematic dismantling of Philippine culture, society, and economy. It was an unrelenting barrage of cronyism, self-interest, and overwhelming ego that brought the Philippines to its knees. The quantity and quality of what was done to the Philippines and the Filipino is almost difficult to grasp in its enormity. In a sense, the argument could be made this is why so many of our young fail to comprehend Martial Law: There is just too much to explain, so much for them to understand. And unless it’s presented properly and competently, the excesses of Martial Law almost becomes satirical, a bad joke that is being played on the unsuspecting. Three thousand pairs of shoes? Tens of millions of dollars worth of jewelry? Mansions in Europe, secret Swiss bank accounts, decadent parties in the United States, mistresses in Australia, multi-million dollar condominium units in New York and London, and so on and so on. Ha! That sounds more like an over-the-top book or film than reality. Even a royal decree from Marcos naming Imelda as his heir and successor smacks of overkill. Yet, it is all there. It happened.

Then there are the dark notes of Martial Law. The salvagings, the kidnappings, the state-sanctioned executions, tortures, and intimidation. The fear that an unsuspecting country soon found itself living in. The sheer impunity of it all. Curfews and beheadings. Beatings and thieving. That was part of Martial Law. Thousands of men and women found themselves jailed, tortured, and murdered. Left by the street side were dead bodies masquerading as unremarked refuse. Those bloody reminders of Martial Law are almost completely forgotten today. There are too many deluded among the youth and old guard alike who celebrate the excesses of Martial Law, they like to point to the dream of a strong man who controlled their lives and harnessed a nation to service his, his wife’s, and their cronies’ perverse desires. I have little doubt that Jose Rizal would find absolutely appalling the continued existence of the Cult of Marcos. This subrosa, barely remarked upon fervent dream for a strong man to come and unburden us of our social and civic responsibility. To lead and guide to the promised land. What else underlies that frequently stated request for a ‘strong leader’ to fix the country, but a lack of personal conviction and desire to assume social and civic responsibility? Rizal called people who believe like that slaves. Ideological slaves with little heart for proudly proclaiming themselves Filipino and contributing to the success of their country. Rizal pointed out that slaves allow tyrants to maintain power, and little men become even smaller men when they find power. Slaves become tyrants: Petty and self-interested. Deluded in their grandeur of squalor.

Even the so-called bright spots of Martial Law that we like to hail in the public discourse are tainted once we dig deeper. For example, Imelda Marcos’ contributions to arts and culture communities fall apart when critically analyzed. Yes, she left an institutional legacy that remains. But, the potency of those institutions has less to do with her and more to do with the men and women who re-imagined their potential. Imelda basically engineered cultural and art institutions into altars for the Cult of Imelda. Her tastes, her demands, her desires, and quirks dominated the cultural landscape. Art, in its essence, is the mirror through which society views itself. Art provides a voice for the people, and often times it is the only outlet for social unrest. That is why there is such a long history of literature, sculpture, cinema, and paintings as vehicles for social subversion and even revolution. Rizal’s Noli and Fili and Paine’s Common Sense helped spark revolutions. Works of art like Picasso’s Guernica are pointed social critique that resonate today. Art, at its best, helps weave national narratives and demands a reassessment of prevailing social standards. Art, in any form, is critical analysis of a subject, a belief, a place, or a time. By muzzling the art community, Imelda eliminated one of the key vehicles through which social commentary can be made. Her husband’s desire to rewrite Philippine history to support and defend his one-man rule is one and the same. Controlling the understanding of history provides the ability to rewrite the context of the present, and even guide the future.

Heinriche Heine famously pointed out “That was but a prelude; where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people.” In a sense, a critical evaluation of art and culture institutions during Martial Law gives us a pointed insight into the mind of Imelda Marcos: She was paramount. She came, she saw, she controlled. It was art by fiat, and Imelda was the grand patroness.

In general we at least grasp the almost overwhelming economic failures of Martial Law; failures driven by cronyism, nepotism, and institutionalized and state-sanctioned graft and corruption. But, in looking at its entirety, it is awe-inspiring. Crony capitalism became the norm. Infrastructure projects were handed out like candy as favors. Projects were developed and implemented for the sole purpose of providing vehicles for corruption. Yes, roads were built, institutions developed, but at what cost? How many languished in poverty while roads were paved to nowhere? While medical institutions that catered to a select few were constructed with public dollars? Yes, we may have a kidney or heart center now. But back then? What was more important, a basic primary healthcare facility serving the hundreds of thousands who did not have access to basic medical care, or a medical facility catering to wealthy Filipinos and foreigners? That is one of the tragedies of Martial Law: The misguided sense of nationalism. It was nationalism turned egoism; a country and its institutions geared specifically to the demands of a Conjugal Dictatorship and their coterie of bandits and sycophants. The result, by 1986, was a crippling external debt amounting to the billions of dollars, where twenty years prior it was only in the millions. Poverty was rampant and new policies of state-sanctioned export of labor were in place.

Context is key. Martial Law came into being because of the context of the period. It survived for fourteen long years because of the context of the time. Fears were preyed upon, information twisted and manipulated to fit pre-determined narratives. That is why the press had to be muzzled, that is why artistic freedom had to disappear, that is even why history had to be rewritten. Without public intellectuals railing visibly against a rapacious dictatorship, without voices offering dissenting views to combat institutional propaganda, the status quo (no matter how oppressive) remains. Martial Law endured.

Despite its continued pervasive and subversive influence, Martial Law is barely understood. It has become more akin to bedtime story used to scare children: If you misbehave, watch out, Martial Law is going to get us! Impeachment? Martial Law! *insert undesired policy*? Martial Law! In its almost consistent deployment, martial law has become less a socio-political state antithetical to democracy and more a running joke. Less something to fear and more a child’s monster under the bed: Something that only exists in our heads. Without a critical understanding of the underlying reasons for Martial Law, we will remain wholly reactive to political changes and developments; consistently weaving fantastical theories of creeping dictatorships and stealthy martial law declarations, all the while the benefactors of Martial Law prosper in their little fiefdoms and maintain their power base. That much needed understanding is only found in the study of history.

Improperly used, history can be deployed to defend almost any excess. Marcos proved this to be true. Proper histories, those that are well-researched and evidentiary based, provide lessons in understanding. More importantly, history gives the present an opportunity to reflect on themselves. Art and history offer the opportunity to question prevailing beliefs and systems; they demand we question commonly held narratives and the actions of our leaders past and present. They give us the chance for critical analysis. John Carey put it this way: “One of history’s most useful tasks is to bring home to us how keenly, honestly and painfully, past generations pursued aims that now seem to us wrong or disgraceful.” Our public historical amnesia robs of that opportunity. Look no further than our popular understanding of Martial Law.

Maybe subconsciously we are scared to fully face Martial Law; to come to grips with what happened, and why it happened. Our present is reflected in our past. Maybe we shove Martial Law to the back of our collective unconscious because we do not want to remember. Maybe it will show us things about ourselves we do not want to face. But, it is there and someday it must be reckoned with.

Painting: Guernica by Pablo Picasso