REMEMBERING LEAN ALEJANDRO
REMEMBERING LEAN ALEJANDRO.

This article is taken from a SF, California newspaper. In remembrance of a fallen comrade, a hero of the anti-dictatorship broad front, this is shared with you. Remember Lean, whose short spirited life continues to inspire....
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Today's Chronicle

A Fallen 'Martial Law Baby'
Lord of the Battle: Remembering Lean Alejandro

Benjamin Pimentel, Chronicle Staff Writer Sunday, September 15, 2002

The mural on Masonic Avenue shows him arms linked with other activist icons of the 1980s and surrounded by a tapestry of political images.

Lean Alejandro would have been amused at being part of a hodgepodge of political causes from the fight against global hunger and colonialism to the battle for the rights of minorities and the elderly.

But in many ways, in his short colorful life, Lean -- short for Leandro and pronounced "Lay-an" -- fit into that picture perfectly. Beneath his portrait is his quote by which many of us, his friends and colleagues, in the Philippines remember him: "The line of fire is the place of honor."

Fifteen years ago, on Sept. 19, 1987, Lean was shot dead outside his office in Manila. He was 27.

To those of us who grew up under the regime of Ferdinand Marcos -- "martial law babies," as we were called -- he will always be the symbol of political rebellion and engagement, the powerful symbol of a generation that Marcos tried to mold into an army of blind followers. The dictator failed miserably.

Amid the ferment that followed the assassination of opposition hero Benigno Aquino in 1983, Lean led student marches, spoke at public plazas, on campuses and on national TV against the regime and went to jail for doing so. As a political leader, he defied easy definitions.

A Marxist intellectual, he was an outspoken critic, not only of the Marcos regime, but of the U.S. foreign policy that supported the dictatorship. But I never knew him to be dogmatic. The scope of his intellectual interests was broad.

Lean was a fan of "Lord of the Rings," and he drew inspiration from the story of a peasant Jewish family that fought tyranny in the film version of the Broadway musical, "Fiddler on the Roof." The day he was killed, he was reading a book by Italian socialist Antonio Gramsci.

He mingled easily with poor farmers and factory workers from the slums of Manila, joining them on many protest marches against Marcos. He could talk political strategy and ideology with the country's elite politicians, including such revered statesmen as the late Sens. Jose Diokno and Lorenzo Tanada. And he could also deal with the
trapos. That's short for traditional politicians and in Tagalog also means "cleaning rag." Though uncomfortable with his radicalism, some of them were charmed by this son of an overseas contract worker who appeared fearless in the fight against dictatorship.

In 1986, Marcos was overthrown in a popular uprising. By then, Lean was a nationally known political figure -- admired on campuses and in urban poor communities as a spokesman for the dispossessed. But he was also seen as a threat.

His killers have never been identified, though they are generally believed to be identified with either right-wing groups or the trapos.

Marcos is long gone. Today, my homeland is, technically, a democracy.

But democracy, Philippine-style, is an unwieldy, chaotic system dominated by one of the most politically backward and feudal ruling elites in Southeast Asia. Corruption on many levels of government persists. The economy is stagnant and poverty widespread. Caught up in old slogans and tired political formulas, even the hilippine left is running out of answers.

As many Filipinos have realized, getting rid of a dictator was the easy part. Much tougher is building stronger democratic traditions in a society ravaged by more than three centuries of colonial rule under Spain and the United States.

Many critics in the West see a country with a culture so damaged and decrepit there can be no possible hope except with greater Western tutelage. That view, of the Philippines and of former colonies of the West, has become more widespread since Sept. 11. From the ashes of that tragedy has emerged the belief by some that
colonialism and imperialism weren't so bad, after all, in dealing with the Third World -- with backward and corruption-ridden societies that sometimes become havens of terrorists.

In the Philippines, the return of American troops purportedly to fight terrorism has sparked protests and concerns of a new unequal relationship. It is in this context that I truly miss my friend Lean. At a time when the United States and the West are reaffirming their superiority over poor and struggling countries like the Philippines,
Lean Alejandro would have been an incredible spokesman for the Third World, with his intellect, energy, political savvy, unquestioned integrity and commitment. In the Philippines, I can imagine him becoming a voice of authority and inspiration, navigating between the left and the right, the old and the new. About 60,000 people joined the funeral march after his assassination. And many of us "martial law babies" named our children after him.

It was a fitting tribute to one who gave up his life for a nation, and who now occupies a place of honor in the hearts of a generation of Filipinos.

E-mail Benjamin Pimentel at bpimentel@sfchronicle.com.
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:: Bing Sunday, September 22, 2002 [+] ::
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