How I Became a UP Student Activist Part II Memoirs of UP Diliman 1972-1974

How I Began My Activism inside the Classroom

It was History 112, going by the course title “The Philippines: 1900-1946.” It covered the American colonial period in the Philippines, and a little of the post-war years.  It was an elective, so I took it not because I had to, but because it was interesting. Most of us thirty-plus students in the class were either history or political science majors. This best explains our keen interest in the subject. It greatly helped that the instructor was a history professor with a reputation of being liberal. His name was Leslie Bauzon, who had a newly acquired Duke University doctorate tucked under his belt. 

Dr. Bauzon was bespectacled, early-thirties, tall, slightly dark, and heavily built. His English and Tagalog both had a heavy Pangasinan accent. He usually wore light colored and long-sleeved barong-tagalogs. Occasionally, he wore long or short sleeved shirts with a tie.  His was a morning class and scheduled Monday-Wednesday-Friday (MWF). It began at exactly 10 am, and ended at 11:30. Our room was at the first floor of the CAS west wing.

It was a good room for discussions. It was spacious enough, and was bathed by sunlight. The large windows welcomed invigorating breezes from the gardens outside. It also had an old but efficient ceiling fan, whose incessant whirring was no match for the room’s good acoustics.  It also helped that a student’s mind was the sharpest at this time of the morning.  All told, I was expecting a great 4-month long class.

When a well groomed Dr. Bauzon introduced the course and presented his mimeographed syllabus, I judged the topics to be in agreement with my activist sensibilities. The bent was clearly anti-colonial and pro-democratic. I distinctly remember Dr. Bauzon’s reference to Karl Deutsch and John A. Hobson when he introduced the concepts of nationalism and imperialism.

The readings were very interesting. The one I liked most was James H. Blount’s American Occupation of the Philippines, an essential work on the subject by an American soldier and anti-annexationist.   The basic nationalist materials were there, like Teodoro Agoncillo’s path-breaking book History of the Filipino People and Renato Constantino’s anti-colonial pamphlets Miseducation of the Filipino, Origin of a Myth, Dissent and Counter Consciousness, and The Making of a Filipino. The latter book introduced me to Filipino nationalist Claro M. Recto.

Based on Dr. Bauzon’s syllabus, and his place in the leftist grapevine, I told myself I was comfortable to blurt out my anti-martial sentiments in his class. I was not yet an ardent anti-imperialist at that time, so the obvious anti-colonial slant of the course served mainly to reassure me that Dr. Bauzon was not reactionary who would disagree with me, stifle my recitation, and give me a failing grade in due time.

As the course progressed, I noticed that many of my classmates were as fervent as I to release their intimidated opinions in class. Many were activists whom I saw in the riotous rallies before martial law. Given this audience, I was eager to probe if the UP tradition of academic freedom, especially concerning classroom discussions, had survived the depredations of martial law. Will Dr. Bauzon permit anti-Marcos statements in his class? What was the policy of the UP Department of History on free expression in the context of academic discourse? Will the UP police arrest students and faculty who make anti-martial law statements in class?

Dr. Bauzon divided his lectures into the following major topics: a) The Origins of American Colonialism; b) The Aguinaldo Capitulation; c) The Philippine American War; d) American Colonial Government; and e) Philippine-American Post-war Relations. He was at once a good lecturer and a good discussion facilitator. His style was free-wheeling and engaging. He lectured energetically, but welcomed abrupt questions and comments.

He must have felt that he had to give us every chance to recite, because the past year was a bad one for free speech. Most of the class appreciated this, and we reciprocated by behaving well. We all listened intently, politely raised our hands to recite, and disagreed with him and with each other civilly. At least to me, the graciousness of this class was a great departure from the venom of many UP activists barely a year before. Perhaps, I reassured myself, the jolt of martial law was a great mellowing process.

Politicizing Class Recitation

From my first glance at the syllabus, it looked difficult to inject angry anti-martial law statements into the topics. They happened many decades before, could be treated dispassionately, and seemed unconnected with martial law. As it turned out, that history class under Dr. Leslie Bauzon, because of its honesty and openness, was my initiation into the anti-martial law movement.

Not that it made me an organized activist, which was many months away. What happened was, finding the right audience and an accommodating professor, I let loose the accumulated resentment I had been nursing all these months. In the process, I lost my timidity and shyness. My license was academic freedom, and reinforcing me were these kindred spirits. They were just too eager to agree with me.

My “protest” style was simple. If, for example, Dr. Bauzon was lecturing on The Origins of American Colonialism, I would let him talk, and then I would politely raise my hand, comment on his points, and seamlessly inject US support for Marcos’ martial law. For the topic “The Aguinaldo Capitulation,” I injected Marcos’ treachery in selling-out Philippine interests to the US. For the topic “The Philippine American War,” I treaded on the dangerous ground of armed response to martial law. To Dr. Bauzon’s astonishment, I daringly said that the response to martial law was armed rebellion.

The topic “American Colonial Government,” opened the floodgates to so many anti-martial law comments, because I sharply but humorously attacked President Quezon’s classic statement that he’d prefer a government run like hell by Filipinos to one run like heaven by Americans. My excellently delivered punch line “There you have it,” brought the house down. 

There was also a lively discussion on whether the “Commander-in-chief” provision in the US sponsored 1935 Constitution, which Marcos used to declare martial law, should have been put there. I was of the opinion that that provision was misplaced, and many classmates backed me up. Finally, the topic “Philippine- American Post-war Relations” was a perfect one for anti-martial law criticism. It covered the harmful treaties that Marcos was ostensibly protecting, like the Bell and Laurel-Langley trade agreements, the RP-US Mutual Defense Treaty, and the RP-US Military Bases Agreement. These issues were standard activist fare, so we pounced on them like hungry wolves.

In the end, it was a matter of gleaning even a hint of a link between martial law and the various topics and sub-topics, and magnifying them, so that Marcos would get burned, at least in our classroom. We miserable protestors all derived consolation from that small victory.

As I expected, my classmates vented their anger with the same intensity that I did, some even more so. I got noticed as an angry anti-martial law student in this class, but I must admit I was not the most vocal. Many were more vociferous, but I did play the role of happy instigator.

After I would bash Marcos, they would all follow my cue and say their pieces. As one spoke, another would agree, and then another, and then yet another, in a livid crescendo of anti-martial law sentiments. Sometimes, the exchange would interrupt Dr. Bauzon for close to half-an-hour in mid- lecture, but he did not seem to mind. He just stood with arms akimbo on the foot-high platform and watched us with a concealed smile. He must have been too glad that the class was so interested in his lectures and so prepared for every discussion. But I also suspected it was a smile of satisfaction, for having done his duty as UP faculty.

My First Encounter

Unsurprisingly, my participation in the recitations, especially my brash remarks about the armed response to martial law, was enough to catch the eye of the covert leftist organizers in that class. I was sure that if there was a government agent among my classmates, he or she would have marked me as well -----I was so outspoken.  Soon, a classmate, whom I knew to be a political science major, whispered something to me.  She encouraged me in what I was doing.

She also told me she was going to introduce me to a contact, or as the activists called it, an “ugnay.”  I knew there and then that she was an organizer. It was 1973, and I was eighteen years old. My career as an organized activist was dawning. Today, almost 40 years later, hindsight tells me many anti-martial law UP students were probably initiated this way. I don’t know if we all passed Dr. Leslie Bauzon’s course, but at that point in our lives, that was a small problem.