It has been 52 years since the late President Ferdinand Marcos declared martial law in the Philippines. It was a time marked by controversy, with both achievements and criticisms defining the period.
He spearheaded extensive infrastructure development aimed to modernize the country and stimulate economic growth. His administration also promoted agricultural advancements which sought to enhance food security and rural productivity. Additionally, Marcos justified Martial Law in order to restore law and order amid rising crime rates and insurgent, “communist” threats, which was initially successful in stabilizing the nation. However, the regime was mired in severe human rights violations, such as arrests, torture, disappearances, and the suppression of free speech. Corruption was rampant, with public funds allegedly stolen by the Marcos family and their allies, leaving the country deeply in debt.
While infrastructure flourished, economic mismanagement further widened the rift between the wealthy and the poor, leading to long-term economic challenges. Furthermore, the dismantling of democratic institutions and censorship under Martial Law enabled Marcos to extend his rule beyond constitutional limits, effectively centralizing power and stifling opposition.
Despite the corruption of the Marcos administration and the countless human rights violations later into his tenure, people still fondly remember his presidency because of his successful infrastructure projects, perceived economic growth, emphasis on law and order, and nationalist rhetoric. Furthermore, nostalgia, generational gaps, and dissatisfaction with later governments contribute to this sentiment, as well as propaganda & social media efforts to rehabilitate his image. While there are positive aspects of his rule such as reduced crime and national pride, people seem to overlook the human rights abuses, corruption, and economic challenges of his later years. This divide often stems from varying perspectives shaped by personal experience, historical knowledge, and socio-economic context.
“The country was the safest and richest it had ever been thanks to Marcos,” my grandma Rosa, 71, says as reminisces about the time of President Marcos.
Rosa lives in Dagupan City, a major commercial & financial center just north of Manila. Her family was and she still is an avid supporter of the Marcoses, especially since the current president of the country, Bongbong Marcos, is the son of the late Ferdinand Marcos. “Before [Martial Law], there was so much crime. It was very scary. Especially as a woman – when you’re just walking you’re always thinking if someone would attack you or steal from you”, she would say. “But when Marcos declared it [Martial Law], people wouldn’t dare commit crime anymore, because the military would severely punish them.”
My grandma Rosa was from a fairly wealthy family, so they didn’t experience much hardship during that period. I asked her about her family’s quality of life at the time, to which she said that, “It was so nice and very peaceful. My friends and I could enjoy walking and shopping in the city without worrying for our safety. We’d occasionally have family & friends over and have dinners.”
She’d constantly sing praises of the regime, as she and her family benefitted heavily from it. After talking for a while, we eventually got to the topic of the curfew. “If you’re a good citizen, you’ll be fine. There’s no reason to be out past 12[am] anyway, only those looking for trouble would do that – and that’s why those who are caught get in trouble”, she said.
“They took my cousin, on the suspicion of being anti-Marcos. I haven’t seem him since”, muttered my uncle Boy, 62, while grimacing at the remembrance of a haunting memory.
Boyet AKA “Boy” lives in Calasiao, a highly commercialized municipality a few miles south of Dagupan City. He also came from a wealthy family, but the difference from Rosa is that he didn’t support the declaration of Martial Law nor the current state of the Marcos Regime. And his cousin, Carlo, thought so, too.
With any authoritarian or dictatorial government, there would be resistance groups. Carlo would become a part of this, passing newspapers and articles through underground networks attempting to expose the truth and horrors done by the military during the period. “I told him it was dangerous. That if he got caught passing around ‘subversive materials’, he’d be imprisoned. Tortured, even,” said my uncle, shaking his head as he told me this story. “He [Carlo] and I were shocked when we found out innocent civilians were getting falsely imprisoned, tortured, beaten, raped. But what could we have done? Nothing. I guess he felt otherwise.”
I asked my uncle why this wasn’t well known, to which he told me that the truth was being suppressed by the media, that “it was all blatant propaganda. And so many were blind to the truth. Even if you knew the truth, you couldn’t do anything.” He continued talking about Carlo, saying, “He thought he could change things, somehow, with the help of the other resistance members. Others have tried and failed. I told him this, but just couldn’t sit still.” Similarly, I asked him what their quality of life was. He admitted that they were well off, and that he was enjoying the riches of his family and the safety & order that the Martial Law afforded them at the time. “But knowing the truth of the atrocities happening just a few miles from my house kept me up at night. I couldn’t believe it. And now my cousin is trying to be a hero, he’ll just end up imprisoned. Killed, even!”, he exclaimed.
I asked Boy if they ever got justice for Carlo. He shook his head, and with a grim expression, said, “No. It’s been 30 years, we still don’t know where he is. When Martial Law was lifted, we were hoping he’d still be alive. But I know he’s gone.”
The legacy of Martial Law remains deeply divisive, as it represents both a time of significant development and a period of oppression and excess. Both my grandma and my uncle lived through Ferdinand Marcos’ regime. They bore witness to the achievements during his time – and the atrocities committed. The security and economic progress brought about by the Marcos administration is what Rosa chooses to remember, while the horrors and the loss of a family member & friend is what Boy cannot forget.