Written by Pola del Monte
First published in CNN Philippines Education on Sep 21, 2023 

 

How deep is the impact of the deletion of a word — or a family name — from the collective memory of a nation? 

“NEVER FORGET” has been the battle cry of Filipino activists since the 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution. These two words persist in rejecting the erasure of crimes and abuses under dictator Ferdinand Marcos’ reign, even as his influence transcends death. 

The ascent of the family back to power has ignited fear that this dark portion of history will be deleted from memory. Its latest iteration: the controversial plan of the Department of Education (DepEd) to remove “Marcos” from “Diktadurang Marcos” in the Grade 6 Araling Panlipunan (AP) curriculum. 

Following backlash, DepEd Bureau of Curriculum Development Director Jocelyn Andaya swore: “Hindi po iyan revisionism because ultimately and inevitably in the discussions of these, it will always lead to: sino ba ang nagpatupad nito? So wala pong revisionism na nangyayari at mangyayari.” 

In an interview with CNN Philippines Life, historian Alvin Campomanes said: “If, as Director Andaya claims, the proposal will not change anything, then why propose it in the first place?” 

“Despite its seeming simplicity,” he said, “the change in nomenclature is still meant to separate Ferdinand Marcos from the excesses of his dictatorship.” 

But how deep is the impact of the deletion of a word — or a family name — from the collective memory of a nation? 

 

Language and power 

Examining the relation of language and society might provide an answer. Words are the basic element of language. Language reveals power in society.

The relationship of language and power can be observed in the dominance of the English language in the modern world: the impact of Western imperialism catapulted English into a universal language. Power carried language. 

But at the same time, the British and the Americans have been able to leverage the lingua franca to expand their influence throughout the globe. This becomes an example of language carrying power. 

In a similar vein, the younger Marcos is using his newfound power to change language: by revising the content of history textbooks, especially after years of being powerless since his father was deposed. 

He has previously commented on the role of power in historical revisionism. 

“We have been calling on [revising the content of history textbooks] for years. Siyempre ang nakaupo, under the influence of our opposition,” he declared in a forum back in 2020. 

And in a 2022 sit-down interview with Toni Gonzaga, he said that he would only order the revision of history textbooks “if they’re wrong.” "Factual naman eh. You can check facts, not political opinion,” he said. “What are the things that actually did happen, that we can show, that we can prove?" he said. "We have videos, we have photographs, we have records that these happened." 

Now DepEd, under the new Marcos administration, is actively rewriting the MATATAG curriculum. 

Aileen Salonga, a language studies professor at the University of the Philippines, explains: “Discourse — the way we talk about things, the kinds of words we use to describe the world — shapes the way we see the world and how we live in it. 

 

“If ‘Marcos’ is therefore removed from ‘Diktadurang Marcos, it generalizes and depoliticizes this period in our history, as if it were simply any period of dictatorship.” 

 

“In effect,” she says, “the ways by which we use language shape and construct our reality.” 

“If ‘Marcos’ is therefore removed from ‘Diktadurang Marcos’,” she says, “it generalizes and depoliticizes this period in our history, as if it were simply any period of dictatorship.” 

As it is, Filipinos have already had “trouble remembering” that period in our history. Previous research has found that Philippine history textbooks are already inadequate in discussing

martial law. This, among other factors, has allowed the Marcoses to find the créneau to creep back into Philippine politics. 

“Now that they are back in power,” Salonga says, “the efforts at erasing the link between them and that period in our history are more persistent than ever.” 

 

Negative lexicalization 

Maxine Rodriguez, another Filipino linguist, has conducted several studies about martial law in textbooks, particularly during her time at the National University of Singapore. 

In her research, she analyzed “negative lexicalization” — the selection of (strongly) negative words — as it applies to the Marcos name in the textbook “Philippines: Our Land and Heritage.” 

“Ferdinand Marcos is given a negative evaluation,” Rodriguez observed. 

“As early as the lesson title ‘Ferdinand Marcos, The Dictator,’ the reader is already positioned to evaluate Marcos in a negative light. ‘Dictator’ contrasts starkly with labels of the rest of the presidents in the same and succeeding lessons.” 

It contrasts Manuel Roxas’s “Bearer of the Great American Dream” headline, as well as Carlos P. Garcia’s “Filipino First” President description. Corazon Aquino is described as the “First Woman President,” Fidel V. Ramos, as the “Man behind Philippines 2000,” Joseph Estrada as “Para sa Mahirap,” and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo as “Small but Terrible.” 

Meanwhile, Ferdinand Marcos is The Dictator. 

“Therefore, if the change would be implemented in DepEd-sponsored Araling Panlipunan textbooks,” Rodriguez said in an interview with CNN Philippines Life, “the deletion would tend to shape target readers’ perception of what happened between 1972 and 1986 in the country as a phenomenon without any clear perpetrator.” 

 

"If the change would be implemented in DepEd-sponsored Araling Panlipunan textbooks, the deletion would tend to shape target readers’ perception of what happened between 1972 and 1986 in the country as a phenomenon without any clear perpetrator.” 

 

For Rodriguez, it “removes a readily identifiable social actor who should be held accountable.”

“DepEd’s choice of linguistically representing the period of the regime as ‘diktadura’ highlights the events between 1972 and 1986 as significant enough to be allocated its own discussions in a textbook, while whitewashing Marcos as the primary perpetrator of the dictatorship.” 

Thus, should the directive be finalized, the onus to attach the name of the perpetrator to the crime will fall on the laps of the Araling Panlipunan teachers. 

 

Araling Panlipunan 

Ann Gabuat, an Araling Panlipunan teacher at Miriam College for over 25 years, says that despite the change in nomenclature, the Marcos name will still come up repeatedly in the discussion of “diktadura.” 

“When you talk about dictatorship in the context of types of leadership or governments, students will find out that there are different types of dictators,” she explained. Inevitably, the forms of leadership of former presidents Ferdinand Marcos Sr., and even Rodrigo Duterte, will come up in the discussion. 

She added that today’s culture of social awareness and the 2022 national elections have made students “woke.” They have become visibly more comfortable using words like “patriarchy” and “capitalism” in everyday dialogue. 

“As a teacher, I welcome it. It starts with being curious about something, and then, you Google a term and learn more about the world,” she added. 

“Ang mga bata ganyan — they ask,” she said. “One thing good about the classroom is it is a venue where you can discuss and clarify.” 

“The essence of Araling Panlipunan is to teach students how they can become members of society, part of history, and part of making history,” she said. But she also added that there is an added challenge in public schools, where scarcity of resources affects the quality of education. 

When students ask her about her stand on social issues, she prefaces her response with a reminder: that the reason they study Araling Panlipunan is for them to be able to form their own opinions. This is true even for her students who hail from political families and are destined to become leaders. 

Having gone through six Philippine presidents in the span of her teaching career, Gabuat has seen generations of girls grow, graduate, and metamorphose into tax-paying citizens.

In fact, it was Gabuat who taught this writer about resource allocation in an unequal society. 

The year was 1998. Sardined with 40 other members of Grade 3-Perlas, I was assigned by “Ms.” Gabuat to join half of the class in a large group, while some 15 went to a medium-sized group and a privileged few formed their own small group. She handed each group a bag of 15 candies: too little for the big group, just enough for the medium-sized group; and too many for our class’ version of the 1%. 

“Hindi mo na siguro naaalala ‘yon,” she told me during this interview, “pero nung bata ka, naitatak iyon sa’yo.” 

I do not remember that lesson, nor that specific afternoon, as much as I have forgotten most calendar days of my student years. 

But I do understand resource allocation and overpopulation, as well as the importance of seeking justice in an unequal society. Lessons from school have become invisible hands that tug at my conscience when I make decisions. They form part of my identity, even if I forget the details. 

“As tools of power, memory and forgetting have been used by various governments, both totalitarian and democratic, in order to secure political control over opposing forces,” write Maria Paula Nascimento Araújo and Myrian Sepúlveda dos Santos in "History, Memory and Forgetting: Political Implications." 

“Forgetting has served as a political strategy used by democratic governments at particular moments,” they add. “This being the case, let us not let [this] serve as a means to enable some people to create more efficient ways to control and dominate others.” 

So, in case DepEd pushes through with their plan to reduce the Marcos dictatorship into “diktadura,” let the full, correct phrase be spelled out here in full: 

Diktadurang Marcos. 

Diktadurang Marcos. 

Diktadurang Marcos.