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FEATURES Yuji Santos
Yuji Santos
A Lifelong Call for Justice
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» Danilo dela Fuente’s memories of the struggle for justice and the pain he felt during Martial
Law remain vivid. These memories motivate him to continue fighting for democracy.
At the beginning of our call, Danilo dela Fuente greeted me cheerfully as it took seconds for the signal to settle. He spoke as if he were talking to a friend, laughing lightheartedly over some of the stories he shared.
There was a grim undertone to his cheerfulness as he narrated his brutal experience during Martial Law. While listening, I admired how, with a steady voice, he managed to tell his story despite the lingering trauma. After all, remaining silent was to him nonnegotiable in any talk of justice.
With Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s ascent to the presidency and his family’s restoration in order, the freedom and rights that the Filipino people fought for during Martial Law are at risk of being sidelined. However, dela Fuente remains steadfast in exercising his right to fight for the truth and justice for fellow Martial Law victims, and defending democracy through the parliament of the streets.
Rising to the Occasion
Dela Fuente was born on January 3, 1949, in Tondo, Manila. He was 10 when he witnessed his father, a unionist, making placards for protests, inspiring him to later be an activist himself. He had the impression that activism was in his blood. “Kasi yung tatay ko, nine years siya sa pagiging presidente ng unyon sa pabrika. Nakikita ko yun, gawa siya nang gawa,” he shared. “Sipag ng tatay ko!”
Those realizations formed the principle by which he chooses to live even now at the age of 73. “Hindi pala pu-pwedeng ibigay kaagad yung kahilingan niyo nang hindi pinaghihirapan,” he said of the tenacity that activism warrants. In 1969, while still a working student at the then Philippine College of Commerce, dela Fuente decided to join the radical group Kabataang Makabayan. The students petitioned for an increase in the funding of state universities and colleges, which was granted. The campus would later be closed during Martial Law, and dela Fuente would only obtain his degree in business education in 1975, two years after his school reopened.
As an employee in Makati, he also became a member of the Friendship Association of Makati Employees, citing the passion for membership in organizations he inherited from his father as his reason for joining. By 1970, he had become more involved in political rallies and demonstrations, prompting him to take absences from work. He is proud of being among the 50,000 activists who stormed the Old Legislative Building
Danilo Dela Fuente, along with other Martial Law survivors, shares his personal experience under the dictatorship regime in a Martial Law forum in UP Diliman, File photo (September 2018).
on January 26, 1970, an event which marked the beginning of the First Quarter Storm.
Days after, on January 30, protesters returned to Padre Burgos Avenue and thereafter decided to march to Malacañang, sparking the events leading up to what is now known as the Battle of Mendiola. Among those events, dela Fuente recalled with a light laugh, was the famed incident of people stealing a fire truck and crashing it into Malacañang. Such militancy pushed dela Fuente and his fellow activists forward in their fight against the tyrannical Marcos regime.
24 Days Under Brutality, Four Years Under Captivity
When Martial Law was declared in 1972, dela Fuente was just 23. He became a labor organizer at the National Federation of Labor, and was arrested 10 years later, in 1982, when the military raided the headquarters of the union. Torturers repeatedly punched his solar plexus, a sensitive area of the abdomen. Afterwards, he was blindfolded with masking tape. “Nagka-dikit dikit yung aking mga kilay at pilik-mata. Pina-blindfold ako for 79 hours,” he recalled.
He was taken to Fort Bonifacio. His captors gripped his front hair and repeatedly smacked his head against the dugout wall. He felt extremely dizzy. “Mga dalawang dangkal ang layo sa likod ng ulo ko. Pag humaba pa, [magiging] tatlong dangkal, malakas ang impact nun, basag ang ulo ko nun. Kaya nararamdaman ko lang hindi pa ako papatayin,” he recalled.
He was returned to Camp Crame, in which 10 men surrounded him and took turns kicking him. He remembered having a restless mind, thinking about what more he would have to endure while embracing what little rest was available for the sustenance of his body.
Blindfolded again, but this time with cotton cloth, he was dragged into a wooden safehouse. He felt grass stroke his feet. His torturers removed the blindfold to show him that they loaded a .38-caliber revolver with a single cartridge. “Tapos inikot … tinutok dun sa aking sentido, kinalabit yung trigger,” he said, remembering details of the Russian roulette.
When he was electrocuted, he thought death was close. His middle fingers were wound with live wire. There were four dials: 3, 4, 5, and 6. Number 6 reached up to the back of his neck, almost to his brain, and would have killed him had it continued, but the torturers stopped there. He then passed out. He awoke in his prison cell at Camp
Bagong Bantay, chilly and gasping for air. “Sumigaw yung isang kasama kong nahuli sa kabilang selda, ‘Hoy, yung kasama ko nagha-hallucinate na,’” he continued. Two people entered his cell, one of whom was a doctor. He refused to drink what was given to him out of suspicion.
It was at Camp Bagong Diwa where he was imprisoned until the EDSA People Power Revolution. Following February 26th, former President Corazon Aquino granted a general amnesty on political prisoners. However, he explained that it was the people who granted them liberty. “Ang tingin namin doon, naging instrumento si Ginang Corazon Aquino para mapalaya kami pero ang talagang nagtulak ng pagpapalaya namin ay EDSA People Power. Ganun namin tinitingnan,” he said.
Unwavering in the Fight for Democracy
One would think that after the ouster of the Marcoses in 1986 and the promises to restore democracy, the path to attaining justice would be less cumbersome and elusive. However, since then, Martial Law survivors have been fighting an uphill battle. Dela Fuente never forgot the agony he endured; in fact, time only made it more vivid in his mind. Every recall strengthens the cause for which he fights even harder: achieving justice and punishing those responsible.
The Human Rights Reparation and Recognition Act of 2013 honors victims of human rights violations such as execution, torture, and disappearance during the Marcos regime. Martial Law victims are entitled to monetary and nonmonetary compensation. The Human Rights Victims’ Claims Board determined the compensation based on a point system. The point system ranged from one to 10. Dela Fuente, who was illegally arrested and tortured, received eight points and is considered “severely tortured.”
The Marcos victory in the 2022 elections is, for dela Fuente, a threat that might render their fight for justice futile. They never stopped fighting so future generations would not have to endure the torment they experienced during Martial Law. But instead of giving up now, he remains committed to rejecting the Marcos-Duterte tandem, both in the halls of government and in the streets. As a co-convenor of the Campaign Against the Return of the Marcoses and Martial Law (CARMMA), dela Fuente, along with 17 others, asked the Commission on Elections (COMELEC) last year to disqualify Marcos Jr. from running. “Sumunod kami sa proseso ng batas eh. Hindi kami lumalabag sa batas kaya nung mayroon nang desisyon ang en banc na dismissal doon sa disqualification, nag-file na kami ng petition for certiorari May 18 bago siya iproklama,” dela Fuente said.
When protestors denouncing the proclamation of Marcos Jr. and Sara Duterte were violently dispersed in front of the Commission on Human Rights last May 25, dela Fuente said the incident was enough reason to carry on fighting. ““At yun yung isang sagot kung bakit ako’y nagpapatuloy pa kahit 73 years old na ako ... kasi kapag hindi namin iginiit iyon yung mga susunod na henerasyon ganoon din–lalo na yung mga kabataan,” he said.
At the end of our conversation, dela Fuente emphasized that protests and demonstrations will never stop because he believes that hopes for a better Philippines will only be realized if we are willing to march for justice in the streets.
Dela Fuente sparked in me a feeling of fortitude rather than fear. Our conversation was aflame with the years-long radical fervor that kept him and his comrades going even through our country’s darkest days. It is the same fervor they wish would urge us on at this crucial point in our history. The country is still a long way from achieving a system that puts the people’s interests first, but as dela Fuente puts it, “Kailangan lang ituloy natin ang laban na ito laban sa kawalan ng demokrasya’t kalayaan.”
