Peace, beyond the lines

It was a picture that launched a thousand comments.

 

The news photo of the crying cop gathered virtual responses way beyond its temporal life, sparking apologists from the broad spectrum of the left as well as ripostes from the right. And well, from every other kibitzer in between.

 

Which perhaps includes me, who happened to be a serious student activist before my incarnation in my current field in peace advocacy and education.

 

Yes, I’ve marched rallies in and out of campus, shouted slogans, witnessed and criticized a degenarate system that plagued the land.

 

But while I do not do such things anymore (as I now work for ‘liberation’ in a different way) I wish I could also cross the line as bravely as the young Dutch national did, who addressed, at the top of his voice, a random cop about the atrocity of trucheon-weilding police force that then readily bashed at his comrades, the mass of humanity who were huddled to address their collective grievance to the national government.

 

 

 

(READ: Foreigner writes open letter to SONA’s crying cop)

No, I do not entirely tolerate his rudeness, but the courage to speak up as a way to reach out to ‘the armed other’ was there, at the very least.

 

He was a foreigner yes, and one who had a heart for the country, apparently moved by the grim poverty amidst government ineptness that he saw in the country. He simply happened to be there in solidarity with other activists. In a way, he too, acted from compassion.

 

But at that very moment, he was simply barking at the wrong guy.

 

On the other end of this heated drama, I would profess to equally adopt the cop’s sincere candor. He who did not hit at those on the other side of the line – not even amid the ‘arrogance’ of one young foreign man who came yelling at him. The rare cop did not fight, did nothing but fall into tears. He reached his breaking point, pushed to the limits after guarding the Commonwealth area with other men for two days – without rest, sleep, proper food – and still literally ‘standing’ by orders.

 

It was a compassion uncommon nowadays that still got the better of this unexpectedly mild-mannered policeman. He chose not to hit back even with the provocation of tumultuous emotions from the sea of rallyists, some of whom had tried to hit the police force with sticks and stones on that distressing day.

 

They were barking at the wrong ‘enemy.’

 

The media did take note, as well, that even before the mob had tried to break through the police ranks, this singular cop brandished with his hand a peace sign, obviously eager to lead the hoi polloi back to some sense of calm. 

 

As if that was enough to quieten the mob.

 

Or perhaps, for those who continue to be touched by the image of this policeman’s gesture of conciliation now going viral, it was.

 

You know the rest of the story. By the time the cop was shouted at by the young Dutch, his tears fell. Tears that moved rallyists to approach him with a quick hug, a pat on the shoulder, a hanky – offering some assurance that all hell that broke loose at the President’s SONA will soon be over.

 

Human and humane

 

To me, it was an image so human and humane, from both sides of the line.

 

On the one hand, a rare man in uniform who opted not to touch those he was ordered to clobber. On the other line, those nameless rallyists who stepped out of their way to offer some unexpected solace to the cop in wordless tears. For a moment, each actor in this tiny drama stepped beyond the ideological colors that they came to brandish that very day.

 

It was an unusual scene for me, once a university student activist who was baptized by fire in seeing the realities of Kafkaesque conflicts, even among the spectrum of people who professed by the principles of radical student activism. But also especially in seeing the grim conviction of some comrades for the cause of a “greater war,” vehemently set againt those deemed to be “the Enemy.” Conflicts that have lived on even at the expense of friendships, or of basic respect and civility, this vehement war that is staged in all fronts. All for a cause that seemed no less than noble.

 

But a time came, in those years back, when I was struck with a realization: I would not live for a mission where I would habitually see people degenarate into meaninglessly inhumane labels between allies and foes. 

 

That was years ago. And now, I still have an appreciation for the role that activists must play, regardless of their differing persuasions. In fact, I sometimes still call myself one, what with the kind of unpaid volunteer work that I’ve committed myself to engage in. For ours is the day and age where activism has to play and will continue to play a huge part in ‘waking up’ a sleeping humanity, and blaze on with the spirit of change at various levels of human life. Such is the time in our human history.

 

And now, as I write these lines as an educator and peace advocate, I continue to resonate with the aspiration of every other person in this land – be it underpaid cop, helpless squatter, or staunch ideologue – who, at one point or other, would have acted as victims of a degenerate system, regardless of their conscious political leaning or other.

 

I just wish to put to heart this one assuring message offered to us in this mini-drama: That there are still people out there, with hearts and minds open to cross ideological borders in the name of understanding, perhaps an ephemeral reconciliation, even a fleeting but possible peace.

 

For the gentle cop of the story was not just holding a metal armor like the file of men of his ranks.

 

He also managed, with all his heart, to raise a peace sign with one hand. – Rappler.com

 

Rina Angela Corpus is an Assistant Professor of the University of the Philippines-Diliman. When not busy teaching Humanities and Art studies courses, she volunteers in an NGO that promotes the culture of peace and human values. She is currently part of a nationwide year-long peace campaign called Pause Muna, Peace Muna.