The Pisay fighting spirit

BY MABUA BARBIE*

One look at the Martial Law freedom wall says it all.

Hundreds of hashtags, pencil sketches of laban symbols, and staunch one-liners denouncing the Marcos name fill up the wall, heavily outnumbering the off-topic jokes, random doodles, and occasional pro-Marcos sentiments.

Their spirits were strong enough to get them through Pisay’s blunders — but the gathering storm around them seemed to be much worse.

Taking The Fight Outside

Katch Viernesto

Content Editors Athena Ap-apid Indie Beldia

Sam Gianan

Danni Santos

Chesca Tumaneng

Communication Managers

Vyan Abella

Paris Bereber

Karl Ducusin Kaleena So

Social Media Managers

Yel Delena Grandis Frias

Kaleena So

Felize Ilagan

Internals Managers

Karl Ducusin Benji Jacob

Raphy Santos

Staff Writers

Kiko Angeles Paulo Aquino

Paris Bereber

Wrynah Calpito Nathan Cometa Yel Delena

Andy Ganancial

Caitlin Gesmundo

Franco Kasilag

Gabbie Penullar

Bianca Peralta

Kyle Ramos

Jaden Reyes

Siobe Saavedra

Bianca Sacramento

Mikko Salvador

Raphy Santos

Maddy Tiu

Joshua Viloria

Atila Vinculado

Creatives

Jez Belda

Lance Libatique

Eris Ramos

Quenso Tambalque

Nico Tan

Niña Viaje

Adviser

Daryl Wyson

We would like to thank the following:

Justice Abdon Amira Batino

Kat Dela Rama Kurt Nuqui

Davis Magpantay Stephen Chua

Exposure

Everyone who participated in #PisaySpeaks

Pisay students seemingly share the same opinions, principles, political advocacies — the same spirit.

And, judging from the names on the wall of Pisay martyrs to the write-ups on Ang Lagablab’s compilation of old articles, it seems that Pisay has had this spirit from the beginning.

The Fight Within School Grounds

Pisay students back then were no strangers to making their voices heard — they had to fight for what they deserved. And with no other available platform, they took their fights to the campus grounds and often, to the streets.

On August 24, 1970, after cutbacks reduced the 12.7-hectare plot of land designated for the permanent campus to 7.5 hectares, students marched all the way to Malacañang and picketed the palace gates.

According to a headlining report by The Science Scholar, students “went on a general strike from August 18 to 25 demanding the immediate settlement of the [campus] site problem” as ownership conflicts put the campus buildings’ construction in a standstill.

The following year, when a photography teacher gave more than half of her students failing marks despite not holding meetings, students did not remain silent. They filed a petition against her, requesting the suspension of their grades in her subject.

In 1969, the outset of President Marcos’ second term was tainted by a severe economic crisis. The value of the Philippine Peso was free-falling, anti-Marcos activist groups were picking up momentum, and the steady growth of their demonstrations was building up to the 1970 First Quarter Storm.

Pisay students couldn’t remain passive through all of this. And so they channeled their fighting spirits to matters beyond school affairs.

Students frequently partook in demonstrations in the neighboring area of the University of the Philippines and in the University Belt over in the City of Manila, places that were notorious breeding grounds for student activism.

They weren’t afraid to speak out, but they found out that, sometimes, speaking out comes at a cost.

On December 4, 1970, while PSHS student Francis Sontillano was participating in a political demonstration along with his schoolmates in the University Belt, a bystanding security guard threw a pillbox (a small explosive) at the crowd of protesters.

Everyone nearby dispersed in time for the explosion, except for Sontillano. When the smoke cleared out, protesters found his body lying on the street, his head shattered and bloodied — he was dead. He was only 15 years old.

His death upended the Pisay community. An open letter from Mrs. Leah Villalba, Sontillano’s teacher, said that Pisay was “trying hard to settle down to normal after the tragedy which completely dislocated us.” But this did not mean they were scared into submission.

Sontillano’s martyrdom, according to the PSHS chapter of the Samahang Demokratiko ng Kabataan, was “the rallying point that catapulted onto higher and newer heights the political consciousness” of Pisay and other school students.

THE DARK AGE

In 1971, the nameplate on The Science Scholar’s September-October publication was printed in blood red. On its left wrote: “Pierce the enemy with your pens,” and on its right: “Restore the writ completely.”

A month after the Plaza Miranda bombings that same year, Marcos laid out the first stepping stone to his ultimate goal by suspending the writ of habeas corpus, the order that almost single-handedly protected activists up to that point.

From September 16, classes were suspended once a week to make way for campus-wide “Protest Days” where boycotts, discussion groups and seminars hosted by alumni activists and former political detainees, and even politically charged plays organized by a local dramatics club were staged.

From outside the campus, several student activist circles also became involved in Pisay, and soon enough, the school was labeled as a “base for cultural revolution.”

However, when President Marcos declared Martial Law on September 21 of the next year, Pisay, and the Philippines at large, couldn’t continue the fight — at least above the surface.

After the declaration, the Philippines fell silent. Radio stations completely ceased airing, media outlets were forcibly shut down, and hundreds were arrested.

A dark age had been cast over the Filipino people. The once-outspoken Pisay students were forced to remain silent as the consequences became too dire for them to continue.

Unbeknownst to much of the general public, activists took the fight underground. Several Pisay graduates kept their heads above ground, writing for publications that opposed the Marcos administration. Others left their college studies to fight in the frontlines, moving away from the city and joining militant groups.

Many of their names can be found on the wall of Pisay Martyrs — martyrs who did not live to witness the downfall of President Marcos’ rule.

The Next In Line

Student activism in Pisay resurfaced following the end of Marcos’ rule, when the chains that bound the opposition were finally lifted.

Activism, however, somewhat took a backseat for a few decades, even as other conflicts and dark eras took hold of the country. School strikes and out-of-campus demonstrations became increasingly difficult to hold as the school had considerably grown since its early days. Staging protest marches has also become more difficult in the surrounding Diliman cityscape.

But students, unwilling to let go of it, kept the fighting spirit alive long enough for us, the current generation. And with the return of another Ferdinand Marcos in Malacañang, this spirit is needed more than ever.

Our turn to fight inches closer and closer as President Marcos Jr. makes his moves. We can’t let another dark age take over again — and with the help of those who came before us and the torch they have passed on, we won’t.