THROUGH UNTRUE

In two days, we will commemorate the momentous event when thousands of Filipinos gathered along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA) and waged a non-violent revolution by wielding "people power" in an unprecedented way. Since then, EDSA has become synonymous with the narrative of this historic victory.

This narrative appeared destined to become a cherished national myth capable of uniting the nation and propelling it toward progress. Many Filipinos viewed it as the dawn of a government built on a strong foundation of democratic institutions and processes, the elimination of extreme factionalism, a no-nonsense strategy against crime and corruption, effective programs to combat poverty, initiatives for social and economic development, the institutionalization of a credible electoral process, and the dismantling of dynasties, monopolies, and cartels.

Sadly, for ordinary people burdened by traffic, taxes, and grueling labor, EDSA has become an empty phrase. As one EDSA veteran quipped, “I thought that after EDSA and the change of leaders, I would be assured that when it rains, I wouldn’t wade through flooded streets, that garbage would be collected, that I wouldn’t fear being kidnapped, that jobs would be plentiful, that my savings wouldn’t disappear when I fall ill, that honest work would be rewarded, and that crimes would be punished. I set myself up for disappointment.”

The EDSA narrative mutated into a political or moral theory that somehow distorted our idea of democracy. After 1986, many people came to believe that street demonstrations were the most democratic way to air grievances. When they disagreed with government policies, they resorted to mass action and called it “people power.” They forgot that the normal and most powerful way to express their will is by electing leaders with integrity, honesty, and the genuine will to serve the nation. Driving out corrupt leaders through people power simply resulted in a “rigodon” of government officials dancing to the tune of street protests and mass action.

Today, just as an oversupply of money erodes its value, the term "EDSA" has suffered an inflation of sorts. The current government, too, seems largely indifferent to preserving the true significance of the event, unfairly reducing it to a mere occurrence. Many political "icons" exploit the annual commemoration as a platform to echo slogans of national pride or moral reform, but their faces are no longer scarred by the 1986 struggle, but glamorized by power, influence, and wealth. Additionally, past commemorations often featured popular media celebrities who entertained, rather than challenged participants to take action.

Despite this, and despite revisionist attempts to distort the narrative, what happened at EDSA remains a unique achievement for the Filipino people. How can we reclaim its true significance? First we must remind ourselves that the most important part of any achievement is often the part that remains unseen. As the Little Prince remarked, “What is essential is invisible to the eye.”

What was visible at EDSA in 1986 was a demonstration of people power. What remained invisible was where we, Filipinos—often known for our divisiveness—derived the power to tame the savage instincts of the EDSA crowd and produce an unprecedented victory over tanks and guns.

In a very real sense, EDSA was not a revolution; it was a revelation. Filipinos revealed to the world the invisible, yet ever-present, qualities that ignited an explosion of unwavering resolve for lasting change. These qualities—the willingness to sacrifice, the yearning for integrity and honesty in public office, the ability to elect good leaders, patriotism, love of neighbor, and faith in a wise Providence who walks ahead of us—are the true heart of the EDSA experience.

Indeed, the 1986 EDSA revealed to the world the Filipino people's better selves, often hidden beneath apathy and indifference. Unless we retrieve and collectively show these qualities again, and make these bear on current realities, EDSA will remain an empty slogan, a tool for political propaganda, and an eloquent testimony to our “ningas kugon” mentality.