Remembering Jose ‘Ka Pepe’ Diokno: One who stayed

Theodore Te
February 25, 2012

As someone who suffered as much as he did for his country, no one would perhaps have begrudged him a flight out of the country. It speaks so much of the character of the man that he stayed. And that in staying, he persevered. And that in persevering, he fought. And, that in fighting, he led. And that in leading, he inspired.

In those dark days when law was strangled by a dictator‘s mailed fist, no matter that it would often be cast in a velvet glove, he stayed, fought, led, and inspired.

When the idea of rights was aspirational and the idea of fighting for one’s rights, let alone those of others, was unpopular because they proved literally hazardous to one’s health, if not continued existence, he stood firm and held fast. When the idea of law was simply what the dictator willed and the rule of law was his signature on a piece of paper, he, and a handful of others, dared say to the face of the dictator that such a perversion of law was not acceptable and that when the law becomes meaningless and itself oppressive, then the people are justified to looking beyond the law to claim their rights.

When many of the nameless, faceless among us suffered the same lot he did, and worse – to be accused wrongly, to be charged falsely, to be detained indefinitely, or simply to be rendered literally gone, without anyone to raise a hue and a cry – he grieved in solidarity, for he (and his family) knew of that pain, that suffering; but his grief did not allow him the luxury of inaction, instead it spurred him to action.

Together with his old friend and comrade Tanny, one who also stayed, he would fight for those who, unlike him, had no pedigree; he would give voice to those whose voices were suppressed momentarily or stilled forever. He and Tanny (and another named Joker) would bring together other like-minded spirits and brave-hearted souls to say loudly to the dictator “NO!” when all around the dictator, his sycophants were whispering sibilant yesses.

He would fight with what he had, what he knew, and what he held dear: the law that he learned at his father’s library and by his father’s side, the intellect that was given to him by his Creator, the love of country that was innate in him, the sense of justice that he himself was deprived of by the dictator and the support of family, friends, comrades and kindred souls who never left him. Against the devices of the dictator, they were not much but they were enough.

He would speak, over and over again, of law, of development, of sovereignty, of peace, justice, of change and of hope – everywhere he felt he could make a difference. In that deep gravelly voice with a distinct diction, he would also teach. He would teach lawyers, law students and members of the basic sectors; he would talk about paralegalism, about a new kind of lawyering which he would call “Developmental Legal Aid“, he would teach people to be aware of their rights, to be aware of their situation; he would teach people that their right to self-determination would bring with it the right to hope because change would come only when those who desperately need change desire it equally desperately. For many people, lawyers, law students and ordinary people oppressed by the dictator’s “rule of law”, he would change the way that people saw the law, their rights and their country.

Memorably, he would sum up what filipinos were fighting for in his inimitable turn of phrase, “to sing our own songs.”

Read full article @ www.interaksyon.com