on the 2012 SONA & political prisoners' hunger strike

Last September, just as a week-long hunger strike of political prisoners was nearing yet another frustrating ending, some unconfirmed and cryptic piece of news had filtered out of the Palace, alleging to the effect that Philippine jails were now being divested of political prisoners. But the President had not in fact made any announcement acceding finally to the strikers’ call for a general, unconditional and omnibus declaration of amnesty to free all political prisoners in the country – it turned out that it was just the Presidential Spokesperson giving official word that in the first place, as far as the administration was concerned, political prisoners simply did not exist.

It was not however your usual fare of Malacanang farce; Edwin Lacierda this time was not at all the stammering, choking bureaucrat screwing up on an otherwise perfect lie. It was, rather, a highly ingenious and studied performance which, for all its supposed terseness and indifference, still managed to come across as a perversely powerful warning – that as a matter of state principle, political dissenters shall invariably treated in no other context except in relation to common, even heinous crimes. Instead of general amnesty, what government had in essence declared was general policy.

The unabated incidence over the last couple of years of government critics, activists and revolutionaries being arbitrarily arrested or abducted, tortured and slapped with fantastic non-bailable criminal charges, attest to how seriously such policy of political persecution has so far been put to actual practice by the present dispensation. Indeed with the full repressive force of existing laws and state machinery thoroughly committed to the purposes and methods of the current Pentagon-designed counter-insurgency program Oplan Bayanihan, the US-Aquino regime is building its own legacy of human rights violations and state terror – now with a record 99 documented cases of extra-judicial killings, 10 enforced disappearances, and 107 political prisoners arrested under its watch. The military, police and prison systems have likewise recently conspired in a number of separate attempts to carry out the transfer of certain political prisoners from civilian jails to military camps to further punish and break their militant response to the debilitating conditions of their incarceration.

Hundreds of political prisoners nationwide including myself, are once again on a hunger strike to condemn the continued prevalence of illegal arrests and detention, and the heightened repression and “custodial militarization” of political prisoners. Under the US-Aquino regime, general, unconditional and omnibus amnesty for political prisoners can be granted only through the strength of people’s clamor and widespread support. Freedom can only be achieved through unrelenting struggle.

FREE ALL POLITICAL PRISONERS!

Ericson L. Acosta
July 16, 2012
Political Prisoner
Calbayog City
Sub-provincial jail
Western Samar

Finally, with Ericson Acosta!

by Sarah Raymundo

Perhaps one of the unexpected things that have come out of Ericson Acosta’s political prisoner status is the fact that Emani Cricket -his only son- has learned to play the guitar so well. Someone or else something must return what this boy has lost to the fascistic ways of the U.S. Aquino regime. This for Eman has turned out to be the guitar chords of songs that Eric had written singlehandedly or with the radical cultural crew.  It was perhaps his means of finding a better way with Eric who has ceased to return to Manila since he was captured in Samar in February 2011. Since then, not a single hearing of his case, no word from the Department of Justice, nothing at all from the state that took him away from his wife, son, friends, and the movement that he continues to serve.


But one Saturday afternoon before the end of June I wed my time with Kerima’s,  and found ourselves with the Cricket in his room, on a double-decker. While the mother was hell bent on finishing an important piece, Emani  and I got busy with the junior guitar which Eric bought years ago out of his savings from a small stipend that full-time activists receive on a regular basis. Not the best guitar I’ve laid my eyes on. But Emani’s hands on the digital tuning machine from Tito Ruel is a magical clincher. I played the monumental intro to Blur’s Tender, claiming it to be one of Eric’s favorite songs even when I wasn’t sure that he shared my obsessive liking for it. After playing the first stanza, I gave the guitar back to Eman. He then played from the top, and no other piece had any edge or significance, for me anyway, and at least for that moment.


Fast forward to Sunday, July 22, 2011, Ericson told me that Tender is one of his favorite songs, and that he and Eman should jam sometime.  I hurriedly marked Calbayog Subprovincial Jail as one of the places where we loved like children, a place much like the University of the Philippines back in the 90s when it felt like we knew each other completely before even beginning. Around half an hour before that, I sent Raia a message and told  her how this short travel  with Bomen from the hostelry to the jailhouse was making me so anxious; I wished this transportation they call the multicab will fail to give me a chance at this vicinity. It was like travelling to the edge where emotions might go haywire and irretrievable.


But the entrance to the jailhouse was smooth. We were welcomed with courtesy upon our mention of “Ericson Acosta.” “Are you his sister? No.” I thought Eric and all the other prisoners are in another building other than the one which housed us for a while, and which reminded me so well of the fact that we have had left the sovereignty of ivory. I must have been swaying from side to side carrying two backpacks, and a shoulder bag which contained Judy’s surprises for Eric (copies of the Philippine Collegian and other relevant university papers, Yes Magazine, Starstudio, a book, a note, and a few things that I had put in, stuff from me and from other friends). Bomen brought Eric a copy of Jun Cruz Reyes’ newest book, Amado, to be launched on Friday (yes, the one from Calbayog gets to read it first), and of Omeng’s Lagalag.


Eric suddenly appeared like some sailor landing from a cruise--poised, genteel, and with the swagger that is unmistakably his. Part of the reason why I was apprehensive in seeing him that morning around 8 o’clock was that our coordinator failed to disclose the identities of his visitors for the day. He doesn’t like that. In prison, he says, he completely has no control over anything about his life. If there are matters or affairs that would affect him for the day, and if these are very well within the friendly radar of the movement, then it should be something that will commit him and his visitors. He wants to know when to wear his best shirt, when to use conditioner for his long hair, and for whom is he making all that fuss.


That circular darkness of the void was not in view. In no uncertain colors did he paint his stories but red. How will I ever catch up in years to discover the pride that Eric has lived through in being with the people of Samar? But he tells of many wonderful stories in a tone so generous, it was almost an assurance that they are ours, too.


Of course there were tears that flowed from his eyes as I was holding the camera that recorded his thoughts on the week-long hunger strike of political prisoners nationwide. Each time I see a dear one in tears, I become a very old woman whose tear glands have all dried up.  That is my body welcoming Stalin and begging him to stay. And I don’t think I owe anyone a fucking liberal irony when it all comes down to some kind of an anti-Wall Street Corporeal Occupy. Eric requested another recording of his message of gratitude and solidarity to those who have supported the cause to free all political prisoners in the country. Tears were shed (his very own, one more time), and I almost hated him for  my awkwardness that smelled like macho shit. He could only say “Close kasi tayo kaya naiiyak ako eh.”


Eric for me is definitely one of those significant Moseses  who have led  me to the promise land. But unlike Moses, Eric gets into it himself. Eric has his own Moses in prison. Moises is an old man who has become one of Eric’s students in a literacy program that’s been running since he got into the jailhouse. Moises loves to read English pieces, he would askcEric to translate every single word he struggles to read. He never had visits from family. He was always out of money. This had been the reason for his low status in prison as he would be the one begging  for food, smokes, and what not from the other prisoners. When Eric came into the jailhouse, he offered himself to be his sidekick. He pledged his loyalty and services in exchange for food and some money. He was baffled when Eric told him that they will share money and food minus his personal services.


One day, Moises son visited him to ask for his blessings. He was about to marry this girl. The son left with the promise of coming back with his fiancée, and a feast that will feed all the prisoners and the jailguards.  For the first time, Moises will have an advantage, he will  not to beg for food but will be  the reason why there is good food. And just because he is a father despite himself. Here is a son, suddenly all grown up, a most welcome stranger to Moises’ life, the same person who asked him to be a part of a very important decision he is about to undertake. All dressed up for the occasion every day for a week, Moises quietly waited to give away his fatherly blessings. That could have spelled endless banter and tough teasing. To Eric’s surprise, the usual badgering among prisoners never took place.


Finally and independent of him, Moises has gained the respect of his fellow inmates through the stories of fatherhood and the beginnings of family life he shared while waiting for his son to come back. His lessons were too precious to be mocked at a time when his greatest expectations failed, and were to mean nothing if amnesty were to mean anything at all to the imprisoned.


I am completely secure about my friendship with Eric. But I do get jealous when friends tell me about new people they have met, people who amuse them lately. I am certain that Moises is now one of Eric’s best buddies. To Moises’ amazement and confusion, a portrait of him with all his tattoos has been sketched by Eric. It was something that Moises could not explain.  Nobody had ever looked at him in ways so faithful , so painstaking, so folksy... it kept his mouth ajar for a while. But Eric revised the tattoos, and turned them into images of Mao Zedong and some political slogans. Moises confirmed recognition understanding of these revisions on account of his political discussions with Eric. But he strongly asserted that such revised portrait is somebody else.  He did not speak to Eric for a short while. That is how I know they are equals.


I did not know whether to tell Eric that Bomen and I will be back for a radical chit-chat sometime soon. "Sometime soon" has always been our deadline for his release. With us when we got there was a motion from Eric’s lawyer to have him undergo a medical check up for his failing kidneys. The hearing for this urgent matter is supposed to happen in Calbayog this coming Friday. I need to tame the wildness of it all: minding deteriorating organs, racing with and against time, dressing up for freedom, gearing up for stalemate, being there. Steady and steadfast, like always, like Eric.

SONA 2012 HUNGER STRIKE STATEMENT

More statements by political prisoners on the nationally-coordinated fasting / hunger strike here

Last September, just as a week-long hunger strike of political prisoners was nearing yet another frustrating ending, some unconfirmed and cryptic piece of news had filtered out of the Palace, alleging to the effect that Philippine jails were now being divested of political prisoners. But the President had not in fact made any announcement acceding finally to the strikers’ call for a general, unconditional and omnibus declaration of amnesty to free all political prisoners in the country – it turned out that it was just the Presidential Spokesperson giving official word that in the first place, as far as the administration was concerned, political prisoners simply did not exist.

It was not however your usual fare of Malacanang farce; Edwin Lacierda this time was not at all the stammering, choking bureaucrat screwing up on an otherwise perfect lie. It was, rather, a highly ingenious and studied performance which, for all its supposed terseness and indifference, still managed to come across as a perversely powerful warning – that as a matter of state principle, political dissenters shall invariably treated in no other context except in relation to common, even heinous crimes. Instead of general amnesty, what government had in essence declared was general policy.

The unabated incidence over the last couple of years of government critics, activists and revolutionaries being arbitrarily arrested or abducted, tortured and slapped with fantastic non-bailable criminal charges, attest to how seriously such policy of political persecution has so far been put to actual practice by the present dispensation. Indeed with the full repressive force of existing laws and state machinery thoroughly committed to the purposes and methods of the current Pentagon-designed counter-insurgency program Oplan Bayanihan, the US-Aquino regime is building its own legacy of human rights violations and state terror – now with a record 99 documented cases of extra-judicial killings, 10 enforced disappearances, and 107 political prisoners arrested under its watch. The military, police and prison systems have likewise recently conspired in a number of separate attempts to carry out the transfer of certain political prisoners from civilian jails to military camps to further punish and break their militant response to the debilitating conditions of their incarceration.  

Hundreds of political prisoners nationwide including myself, are once again on a hunger strike to condemn the continued prevalence of illegal arrests and detention, and the heightened repression and “custodial militarization” of political prisoners. Under the US-Aquino regime, general, unconditional and omnibus amnesty for political prisoners can be granted only through the strength of people’s clamor and widespread support. Freedom can only be achieved through unrelenting struggle.

FREE ALL POLITICAL PRISONERS!

Ericson L. Acosta

Political Prisoner

Calbayog City

Sub-provincial jail

Western Samar

DECEMBER 6 HUNGER STRIKE BULLETIN

NEWS BULLETIN DEC 6, 2011:

ON 3^RD DAY OF DETAINED ARTIST ACOSTA'S HUNGER STRIKE:

SUPPORTERS DEMAND PULL-OUT

OF TROOP DEPLOYMENT IN CIVILIAN JAIL

The Free Ericson Acosta Campaign (FEAC) will join CampoutPH which starts in Mendiola today.

TODAY IS THE THIRD DAY OF DETAINED ARTIST ERICSON ACOSTA'S HUNGER STRIKE. The Free Ericson Acosta Campaign (FEAC) today received this update from one of its convenors, Renato Reyes Jr. of BAYAN:

"Just came from Calbayog court. The prosecution wants Ericson transferred to the Catbalogan Jail (near the headquarters of the AFP's 8th Infantry Division), even if all his hearings will be in Calbayog. They fear that Ericson will be rescued by the NPA if he stays in Calbayog. Jail security is tight. There is an army squad camped out literally outside the window of the prison receiving area where we met. CHR Calbayog says it will look into the AFP detachment beside the jail."

The FEAC demands the pull out of the highly irregular, if not illegal, military deployment at the Samar sub-provincial jail in Calbayog, a civilian detention facility. According to Acosta, a platoon of soldiers from the 87^th IB were first deployed in the nearby barrio since July in the pretext of military operations. Today, a squad from the 14th IB loiters inside the facility’s premises listening in to Acosta's conversations with visitors. The military troops also impose on the guards to show them records of prison visitors.

Acosta says that it is necessary to maintain the civilian nature of the Samar sub-provincial jail. “It is also a challenge for civilian authorities to assert their power over these military ‘invaders.’”

The troop deployment and overkill security arrangement during Acosta’s first court appearance where he was made to ride the jail vehicle as a lone detainee in the midst of soldiers in full battle gear “are symptoms of one affliction." “Fascism is the most dangerous type of paranoia,” Acosta said.

Acosta is scheduled to appear in court on December 8, 2011. His counsel, a group of lawyers from the National Union of Peoples’ Lawyers, will once again move to defer proceedings pending the DOJ’s decision on Acosta’s review petition filed last September 1. The motion to transfer custody of the Acosta is also scheduled to be heard, but the NUPL has yet to receive a copy of the motion.

Instead of wasting government and military resources with Acosta's security arrangements, the FEAC reiterates its appeal to the Department of Justice (DOJ) to withdraw fabricated charges of illegal possession of explosives lodged against him, and to effect Acosta’s release from detention immediately.

“Malaki ang aking pag-asang bibigyan aksyon ng DOJ ang kaso ni Ericson. Manalig tayo dito," said playwright Malou Jacob who as Executive Director of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), personally appeared at the DOJ to support the filing of Acosta’s review petition

“Sawang-sawa na ako sa kalaboso!” Acosta said in support of CampoutPH which will commence today at the Mendiola Bridge in Manila.

PAHAYAG NI ERICSON ACOSTA SA APAT (4) NA ARAW NA FASTING NG MGA BILANGGONG PULITIKAL

Bilang nag-iisang bilanggong pulitikal dito sa sub-provincial jail ng Calbayog City, Western Samar, nais kong ipaabot sa lahat ng iba pang bilanggong pulitikal sa buong bansa na ako’y kaisa sa apat (4) na araw na fasting o pagliban sa regular na pagkain na nagsimula ngayon, Hulyo 22, at gagawin hanggang sa araw ng State of the Nation Address o SONA ni Pangulong Benigno Aquino III sa Hulyo 25.

Kaisa rin ng mahigit 300 bilanggong pulitikal sa bansa ang mahigit 20 pang detenido pulitikal na narito, o mula rito sa Silangang Kabisayaan, kagaya ng mga NDF peace consultant na sina Eduardo Sarmiento na nasa Crame, at Jaime Soledad na nasa Leyte Provincial Jail; lider-pesante na si Dario Tomada na nasa Manila City Jail, sina Paterno Opo, at Felicidad Caparal; ang mga magsasaka na tinaguriang “Catbalogan 5”; at iba pa.

Noong 1994, bilang aktibista at editor ng Philippine Collegian, ay nakiisa ako sampu ng iba pang kabataang aktibista sa isinagawang hunger strike ng mga detenido sa pangunguna noon ni Donato Continente, na bago nabilanggo ay isa ring aktibista at myembro ng istap ng Collegian. Hindi ko akalain na gagawin ko muli ito ngayon habang ako na mismo ang nasa likod ng mga rehas.