Two men who lived, fought for the 'masa'

Two days apart last week, two hardy men, one young, one elderly, passed away quietly. The young man’s death on September 3 spurred a torrent of messages of sympathy and paeans mostly from young poets, writers and activists, through their blogs and Facebook pages. The elderly man’s passing on September 5, on the other hand, spawned the onrush of memories about the anti-martial law struggle among his surviving colleagues, including myself.

The young man was Alexander Martin Remollino, 33, activist writer, poet and journalist. He died of lung infection due to diabetes at the Philippine General Hospital. A member of the National Union of Journalists, Alex wrote for the online newsmagazine Bulatlat. com from 2003 to 2010. When he died he was information officer and researcher for Bagong Alyansang Makabayan (Bayan).

The elderly man was Medardo Roda, 76, chairman emeritus of PISTON (Pagkakaisa ng mga Samahan ng Tsuper at Operator Nationwide). His fifth stroke since 2002 led to cardiac arrest with multiple seizures, causing his death at the East Avenue Medical Center. Tonight his comrades in the Kilusang Mayo Uno (KMU) and Bayan will honor “Ka Roda” and his 30 years of activism.

Ka Roda and the late Crispin “Ka Bel” Beltran, KMU chair when he died, were both labor icons, former taxi drivers who drove to rally assembly points in their old-model cars. Unquestionable was their integrity and dedication to the workers’ cause and to our people’s struggles against the Marcos dictatorship, the US military bases, and neoliberal globalization. They fought for freedom, justice, and human rights. At the head of protest marches they stood out, two robust muscular men with solid clenched fists. Their speeches were fiery, but they could make audiences laugh with their peculiar sense of humor.

In 1983, the two were detained for rebellion. After more than a year Ka Roda was released. Ka Bel, who was held longer, escaped before Marcos was ousted. I myself escaped in 1985 after nine years in military detention. Years later, Ka Roda and I would recall with amusement the tags that Marcos had put on us: he called Ka Roda “the most rebellious driver the Philippines ever had” and me, a “viciously militant rebel who continues to commit rebellion in prison.”      

Ka Roda’s leadership imprint remains in the way PISTON, organized in 1981, continues to fight against unregulated oil price hikes and unjust impositions on public utility drivers and operators. He will be sorely missed in protest actions.

Alex Remollino may have lived in circumstances less perilous than under martial law. Yet his heart raged against oppression, exploitation, corruption and abuses, surging ferociously in his writings, particularly his poetry, no less intensely than what we had felt long ago. 

But that rage never showed in Alex’s mien or body language. Addressing him after learning of his death, a friend wrote: “Who could forget your stories about wanting to punch certain people in the face? Politicians, military men, high-ranking government officials… Oh but you kept your temper, and what anger you felt you channeled into your writing, your poetry. You controlled your temper and all that the world saw was you smiling, even if your written words always betrayed that under that smiling exterior was a young man who felt such fire, such compassion for the poor, such love for their struggle.” 

A university professor and long-time activist observed that Alex used “sharp language in calling to account those who cause the people’s sufferings…” but employed “endearing language in paying tribute to the struggling masses.” She compared Alex to Emilio Jacinto, the bright young writer of the Katipunan whose words Alex posted in his Facebook page: “Life that is not consecrated to a lofty purpose is like a tree without a shadow, if not a poisonous weed.”

Although he preferred to identify himself simply as “a writer and development worker in the Philippines,” Alex had already had a poem, “Tuparin Natin ang Banta ng ating Panahon” (Defying the Challenge of the Times), set to music and used in a video that won second prize in the 18th Gawad CCP para sa Alternatibong Pelikula at Video. He also co-authored the book, Subverting the People’s Will: The May 10, 2004 Elections, published by the Center for People Empowerment in Governance (CenPEG).

Another admirer noted how journalism nourished the poetry: “Alex used for his poetry the truths he gleaned from his journalism. Unlike other young poets who found muses from the imagined, Alex drew inspiration from the real sentiments and aspirations, agony and hope of the masses. What he would not share with friends and colleagues would end up in his poems, told more fervently, told more gracefully.”

Alex Remollino and Medardo Roda, with many others before them, may have lapsed into history, but the people’s struggle goes on for as long as the conditions they raged against basically persist. And as the struggle develops new forms, good persons step forward to do their share. Thus is how history is made.