With a Most Harrowing Feeling of Disgust
Words, to the ignorant and the savage, do not hurt. Words do not make sense, much less induce feeling, among the lowest of animals. Unfortunately, for most human beings capable of articulating their feelings and making them known, words are all they have. Indeed, words are no match for the indiscriminate use of guns, the privilege of gold, and the luxury of goons. Unfortunately, for many of us, that’s all we really have.
Words which – all too often in the case of this blog – are expressed in unleashed, unbridled, uncontrolled anger, rage, and indignation. For whatever they are worth, though, they must be said. They must be written. Not because they do anything, but because anger should always be released.
With a most harrowing feeling of disgust, I condemn the murderers and conspirators behind the massacre at Maguindanao.
You who held innocent citizens hostage, you who slayed them with impunity, you who murdered them, will have no use for these words. You who beheaded them, you who treated them like animals in the killing beds of a slaughterhouse, will not understand these words. Your words, your law, your ethics, and your sense of humanity are etched in the back of bullets. You will never understand dignity, respect, the value of life, and most certainly, you will not understand freedom.
What you understand is that most revolting act of holding 50 innocent Filipinos hostage, rob them, rape them, and riddle them with bullets.
I do not know what brought about the circumstances of this massacre. I do not know what brought about 100 armed men to block the convoy of Ishmael Mangudadatu and brutally murder each and every person there in ways that are probably too gruesome to contemplate. I do not know who gave the orders for that to be done, and damned be upon him if and when justice gets served. However, I do know this: no explanation, and certainly no rationalization, can be expected of the murderers and conspirators who committed such an unspeakable act of violence even in the most troubled areas of our nation.
You slayed journalists and lawyers, and chalked up more lines in that running tally of human rights violations to the guardians of our freedom. You assassinated honorable people filing their certificates of candidacy for that one shot at change that you, in your blatant incapacity to understand that, cannot and will not do. You raped women, you robbed that convoy of their possessions, and yet to your credit, you even bothered to bury them. That is simply not enough.
Where is your sense of shame? Where is your sense of decency? Where is your sense of humanity? To appeal to your mercy is to appeal to your intelligence, of which you have none. To appeal to your conscience is to appeal to your hearts, which you clearly do not have. To appeal to your guilt and pity is to appeal to your sense of humanity, and human beings you aren’t. What you did today demonstrates that you are a sub-species of humankind that must be rendered extinct by justice. Or at least, a hope for it.
Yet, like parasites, you feed on impunity. You gorge yourself freely of apathy, and you drink deep from the wounds of what you perceive to be helplessness. You slayed, you murdered, for the sake of the power that comes with a seat in Government. You murderers not only make me sick, but you make an entire nation sick. Murderers, thieves, rapists, every single one of you who took a life on that road, on that day, in Maguindanao.
Mga walang hiya kayo. Mga mamatay-tao. Mga pusakal, mga hangal, mga kriminal. Mga hayop, mga walang sinasanto, mga gago. Kinasusuklaman ko kayo. Kinahihiya ko kayong kilalanin bilang mga kapwa ko, at nakakasukang isipin na sa kahit kaunting pagkakahawig lamang, kahit papaano, tao pa rin kayo. Kung sinuman ang bahala sa inyo at sa namamahala sa inyo, sana berdugo din siya tulad ng bawat isa sa niyo.
Soon, someone will call for the end of private armies, of warlordism. Someone will make a call for a clean, fair play on the road to the elections. Someone will find your boss, and someone will make each and every single one of you pay for what you did on this very day. Until then, I pray to whatever gods may be that my words – for whatever they are worth – be a blight upon your souls, although I realize now that you may not even have one among all 100 of you.
With a most harrowing sense of disgust, may you all die in circumstances far worse than what you perpetrated today. Damn you all, and vendetta upon you.