Edsa Lost

HERE'S EDSA FOR YOU An Edsa icon (Ramos) littering the famed celebration 

WHILE IT IS TRUE THAT we should all remember what happened in the past so as not be condemned by it, I still find it futile at times to commemorate and even remember Edsa Revolution. Not because it doesn’t have any impact on me anymore, but because it has already lost its luster, its appeal. 

Isn’t it a shame that the person we booted out of the Palace, the person we abhorred at the height of that uprising, is now buried at the Libingan ng mga Bayani? Whatever that meant, it signals the end of our relationship with Edsa. 

I was still in my fourth grade when that happened. The atmosphere surrounding that revolution was one of excitement and uncertainty. It would have been a different narrative, though, if Marcos was all too healthy at that time that he could have pulverized everyone who attended that rally. Instead, he chose to leave, leaving Malacañang in tatters and the whole nation in revelry.

It was a defining moment to a lot of Filipinos. Many of my neighbors at that time who were either informants of the Constabulary or sympathizers to the Reds suddenly became staunch supporters to Cory Aquino and Doy Laurel, regardless of the pair's elitist front and with no real platform at best. Many simply want to get rid of the Strong Man at all cost. 

The revolution, nonetheless, still stands aloof among the many in history that ousted a dictator through peaceful means. 

Now, I don’t even know what to do with it. Those who fled with the Marcosses are now back in power, most of them, however, are second or third generation supporters. The aftermath of that revolution somehow did not live up to its promises. And not only does Edsa lost its spirit, its lost in translation, too. Say, if you ask, for instance, any pedestrian along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue what Edsa means, they would probably shake their heads and will give you that dumb look as if you’re intruding in their busy parade. 

Edsa is now a stray dog. It used to be so cute just to mention that name. Today, though, it is reduced into a meme, or worse, a promo line of a midnight sale. That’s how lost Edsa had become. I even wonder if it has been included in classroom discussions lately how significant this revolution was as far as free speech is concerned. I seriously doubt that. 

The only time I could feel the spirit of Edsa is when I get to hang out in a concert celebrating the said event. But there’s no Ramos jump in there, no Enrile phone call, no Roilo Golez, not even the Apo Hiking Society, just a bunch of booze and bimbos and the bright lights on stage.

Perhaps the burial of Ferdinand Marcos at the Libingan, after all, is a psychiatric phrase, and that we should all forget about the past and moved on, including that of Edsa. It would be a mockery even if we keep on celebrating it and yet we could still see some glaring vestiges of that old regime hanging around with us. 

I am no longer in my fourth grade and yet it feels like the early 80s when that infamous martial rule was supposedly lifted. 

And yet, for what it’s worth, I still venerate Edsa for all its intent and purposes, particularly when I think about the freedom I have every time I redress an issue. That has been the enduring legacy of Edsa over the years. And if that’s the only drink left in this once celebrated revolution, I would happily take it down.                  

photo