Today you celebrate your 41st birthday. It’s unfortunate that we’re thousands of kilometers apart so we cannot be together to enjoy your very special day.

Since two weeks ago, I have thought long and hard about my gifts. Finally, I decided to give you two things that come not from my bank account and wallet but from my heart and mind. Just like me, I know that you prefer the inherently priceless over the atrociously expensive.

But before I tell you what my two gifts are, a short explanation is in order: My preoccupation with so many concerns sometimes leads you to think that I do not listen to you, and that I only pretend to do so as my mind wanders off to “more important things” even if I’m with you.

Well, I should clarify a couple of things right now. First, I do listen to every word you say. Second, nothing is more important than nurturing the relationship we have. You are my raison d’etre, in the same way that you always say that I am yours.

Underneath the public image of a serious journalist is a husband yearning for his wife, constantly trying in her absence to answer the proverbial 5 Ws and 1 H — What is she doing right now? Why is she not calling? Who (if ever) is on the other line? When will she call me? Where is she? How is she right now?

With you, I am irony personified as I get flustered by your online presence. I am always at a loss for words whenever we end our day with a two-hour or so conversation on Skype. The reason for my odd behavior is simple: It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. It’s just that seeing you (albeit virtually) more than makes up for my otherwise tiring day teaching students, checking papers, attending meetings, conducting workshops, writing articles, editing papers, among others.

That you are married to a teacher is something you could live with, as your parents used to be college professors. But I know that being married to a journalist is tortuous at the very least, what with the constant necessity for me to spend a lot of time reading, writing, editing, among a million other tasks.

I do apologize if my work gets the better of me and I sometimes forget that we should be spending more time together. On the occasion of your 41st birthday, consider this promise as my first gift to you: I will spend more time with you.

What’s my second gift? To prove that I do listen to every word you say, I know that shortly before we got married, you had the chance to listen to all of the 12 songs in the Rosas ng Digma (loose translation: Rose of War) album. I distinctly remember that your favorite cut is titled “Sa Duyan ng Digma.”

Allow me at this point to make it our song as I translate it into English, a feat that you know is very hard because translation is not my specialization (aside from the fact that singing is my Waterloo). Even at the risk of public embarrassment, I admit that I spent the whole day yesterday doing this.

I know it’s not perfect, but the perfection I strive for is not mastery of the language but the shaping of my identity to be deserving of you.

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy your day and sing our song of joy.

Suffice it to say that Lila Rosa likes these songs very much for reasons both political and sentimental. And who can blame her?

“Paano Mahalin ang Katulad Mo” (interpreted by Cookie Chua, former lead singer of Color It Red) shows the dilemma one faces when he or she falls in love with an activist. A person in love undergoes an “emotional crisis of sorts” when he or she is reminded that the partner-activist’s life is always in danger.

He or she has two choices – either he or she discourages the partner-activist from pursuing the political work the latter does or supports the partner-activist and then prepare himself or herself emotionally for the worst that could happen.

What does one do when faced with this dilemma? Please analyze the lyrics now.

Paano Mahalin ang Katulad Mo

Di ko maikakaila ang pag-aalala
Na sa tuwi-tuwina’y dala-dala
Nangangamba, nangangamba
Na baka mapahamak ka

Dapat sarilinin ko na lang
Kay rami-rami mong pasan-pasan
Baka lalo ka pang mabibigatan

Itatago ko ang aking kaba
At ikukubli ang pangangamba
Ngunit sa dilim
Ay napapansin mo ang takot ko

Ang dinadaing koy para sa iyo
Ang unti-unting matutunan ko
Paano mahalin
Paano mahalin ang katulad mo

Di ko maikakaila ang pag-aalala
Ngunit di ba mas mahalaga
Ang dinggin ka, intindihin ka,
Samahan ka sa bawat pasya

Paano ba ako makakagaang
Paano ba ako makakatuwang
Paano kung ako ay nasasaktan

Itatago ko ang aking kaba
At ikukubli ang pangangamba
Ngunit sa dilim
Ay napapansin mo ang takot ko

Ang dinadaing ko’y para sa iyo
Ang unti-unting matutunan ko

(Counterpoint)
Paano ba ako makakagaang
Paano ba ako makakatuwang

Paano mahalin
Paano mahalin ang katulad mo

(Interlude)

Paano mahalin
Paano mahalin ang katulad mo

The message is clear: Activists have a very dangerous life and there is cogent reason for their loved ones to worry. The kind of understanding, affection and attention one gives to an activist should therefore be very different from someone who lives a “less dangerous” life (or to put it more bluntly, someone who opts to “sell out” to the system).

While the song is very inspiring, a deeper analysis shows that it is ideologically wanting. First of all, is it logical for a person in love to just keep to himself or herself the worries he or she has (Dapat sarilinin ko na lang/Kay rami-rami mong pasan-pasan)? Communication is the cornerstone of any relationship whether bourgeois or proletarian. If one is not transparent about what he or she is going through (including his or her emotional crises), his or her relationship (and even disposition) could be compromised in the future.

That one’s worries are being kept secret in the hope that he or she does not unnecessarily distract the partner-activist from important political tasks is a reflection of being mechanistic and a misinterpretation of dialectics.

A person in love with an activist should realize that the latter, given the nature of his or her political work, does not make the activist any less human. A partner-activist has feelings too, though in a more circumspect and level-headed manner.

This brings us to the dangerous tendency of making distinctions between the personal and political, and their consequent subjection to dialectical analysis. An activist knows that there is no distinction between the personal and political. The personal is political in the sense that an activist does not see the movement as simply a part of his or her life. Instead, the activist sees himself or herself as part of the movement.

It is therefore not advisable to hide one’s worries (Itatago ko ang aking kaba/At ikukubli ang pangangamba) just to “lessen the worries” of the partner-activist. In order to assuage one’s fears, it is best that he or she inform the activist about them.

The next song, “Ikaw ay Sapat,” could be considered a progressive interpretation of a popular saying nowadays between two people in love: “You complete me!” Unlike “Paano Mahalin ang Katulad Mo,” this song clearly makes no distinction between the personal and political, as the love one professes for another is seen as part of the overall struggle for meaningful change. Please analyze the song’s lyrics below:

Ikaw ay Sapat

Umaawit ang puso ko
Naglalakbay patungo sa ‘yo
Dumadalaw man ang nakaraan
Sa piling mo ay handang maghintay

* Kahit malayo, panahon ay salat
Ikaw ang kulang na sa aki’y sapat

** Pagkat ikaw ang pag-ibig kong tunay
Sa ating sumpa ay tapat
Pagkat bahagi ka ng aking buhay
Kasama sa paglayang hangad

Pag-ibig ko’y di magbabago
Magtagal man ang digmaang ito
Ating pagkilos at pagmamahal
Anong alab ma’y handang magbigay

(Repeat *)
(Repeat **)

Pagkat ikaw ang pag-ibig kong tunay
Sa ating sumpa ay tapat
Pagkat bahagi ka ng aking buhay
Kasama sa paglayang ganap

Kahit malayo, panahon ay salat
Ikaw ang kulang na sa aki’y sapat

Don’t you notice how integral love is to the activist? He or she gives a clear message that the loved one is part of his or her life and is integral to the freedom desired (Pagkat bahagi ka ng aking buhay/Kasama sa paglayang hangad). The word hangad (desired) is noticeably changed towards the end to ganap (completed). This shows the seriousness on the part of the activist to nurture the relationship as he or she works towards attaining genuine freedom.

I think this is what distinguishes a hopeless romantic from a committed activist. The first has a tendency to fall out of love as quickly as he or she falls deeply into it, while the second has a more pragmatic and serious view of love (Pagkat ikaw ang pag-ibig kong tunay…).

The only issue I have with “Ikaw ay Sapat” is the following lines: “Kahit malayo, panahon ay salat/Ikaw ang kulang na sa aki’y sapat.” The loose translation of the last line is “You are the one missing which for me is enough.” In my opinion, there is something awkward about how the last line is phrased. I am sure that the activist does not mean to give a message that it is okay with him if the object of affection is not by his or her side.

I think the intended message is the actual title of the song, i.e., that the loved one is enough for an activist to be motivated to continue living a life of countless sacrifice and hardship. This is unfortunately now clear in the line “Ikaw ang kulang na sa aki’y sapat.”

The last song “Iisa” shows how those involved in the armed struggle prefer to be married (i.e., in front of the red flag or bandilang pula). Just like “Ikaw ay Sapat,” there is no distinction between the personal and political, as love between two people is appreciated in the context of their political tasks.

Iisa

Ihaharap kita sa bandilang pula
Tanda ng aking di magmamaliw na sumpa
Sa ‘yo at sa pakikibaka

* Pagmamahal, pagkaiingatan
Kagaya ng nakitang pagpapahalaga
Sa ‘yo at sa pakikibaka

** Hindi mag-iisa pagkat laging magkasama
Ang ating pagsuyo’y bahagi ng iisa

(Repeat *)
(Repeat **)

Ikuyom ang mga bala sa ating mga palad
Saksi ang mga masa sa ating paglalahad
Na hindi mag-iisa at palaging magkasama
Ang ating pagsuyo’y bahagi ng iisa

One cannot be blamed if this song is considered too serious (or in activist lingo, GND or grim and determined). Those who have decided to take their struggle seriously are naturally expected to take love also seriously. They profess their love for each other not just in front of relatives and friends but also in front of the masses in whose name they struggle for change.

These three songs should motivate the blogger to take analyze the intended message of songs both alternative and commercial. Thank you for reading.

Lumaki ako sa panahong ang kinikilalang ”diyos” ay sina Sampaguita, Mike Hanopol at Pepe Smith. Kahit na hindi ko pa alam sa murang edad ang pulitikal na mensahe ng kantang “Jeproks,” nagustuhan ko ito, tulad ng iba pang kabataang nahumaling sa musikang rock.

At dahil sa Juan dela Cruz band (na binubuo nina Hanopol, Smith at Wally dela Cruz), ginusto kong mag-”swimming sa balong malalim.” Hindi ko pinansin ang kamalian ng katagang ”ako’y nag-iisa at walang kasama.” Sinunod ko ang panawagang ”Ang himig natin ay ating awitin/Upang tayo’y magsama-sama/Sa langit ng pag-asa.”

Pero kasabay ng pagtangkilik sa sariling atin ay ang pagkahumaling din sa mga dayuhang bandang nagtataguyod ng musikang rock. Mula slow rock hanggang heavy metal, mahaba ang listahan ng mga bandang hanggang ngayon ay kabisado ko pa rin ang marami nilang kanta – Creedence Clearwater Revival, Rainbow, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, Scorpion at Nazareth ay ilan lang sa kanila.

Inaamin kong dahil sa kolonyal na mentalidad, mas nagustuhan ko ang mga musikang dayuhan sa aking pagtuntong sa hayskul. Dahil nabarkada ako sa mga kaklaseng pareho ang hilig sa musika, madalas na nauubos ang aming panahon sa pakikinig sa mga plaka’t tape ng mga paborito naming bandang dayuhan at lokal.

Mula sa mga pagtitipong iyon kami nagsusuri ng mensahe ng mga kanta. Napansin namin, halimbawa, na ang kantang ”Favorite Son” ng CCR ay isang protesta laban sa agresyon ng Estados Unidos sa Vietnam. Ang ”Temple of the King” naman ng Rainbow ay tungkol sa relihiyon at ang bulag sa pagsunod sa mga nasa kapangyarihan. Ramdam na ramdam din namin ang personal na pakikibaka’t kalungkutan sa buhay na maririnig sa mga kantang ”Soldier of Fortune” ng Deep Purple at ”Changes” ng Black Sabbath.

Pero sa pangkalahatan, kapansin-pansin para sa amin ang kawalan ng malinaw at malalim na mensahe sa mga kanta. Ang isa sa pinakasikat na kanta ng Deep Purple, ang ”Highway Star” ay tungkol lang sa pagkahumaling sa magara’t mabilis na sasakyan (na inihalintulad pa sa katawan ng babae!). Ang mga mas sikat pang kanta ay tungkol sa pag-ibig o mababaw na pagnanasa sa isang babae – ”Dream On” ng Nazareth, ”Always Somewhere” ng Scorpion at marami pang iba.

Maingay, magulo, tila walang paggalang sa awtoridad – mga katangian ng rock na makikita rin sa maraming kabataang wala pang direksiyon sa buhay at naghahanap ng pansarili o panlipunang identidad. Madaling magustuhan ng kabataan ang rock dahil iba ang damdaming naidudulot ng pinagsanib na ingay ng mga instrumento, lalo na ang lead guitar, at ang tila pasigaw na pagkanta ng lead singer. Tila nakakaya ng mga bandang itong ibulalas para sa kabataan ang lahat ng sama ng loob.

Normal na pagdaanan ng kabataan ang pagkahumaling sa rock dahil sa ”rebeldeng” katangian nito na akmang akma sa ”rebelyong” pinagdaraanan nila. Posibleng mababaw o walang direksiyon ang ”rebelyong” nararamdaman ng kabataan – baka galit lang sila sa magulang na parati silang pinagbabawalan, sa titser na parati silang pinag-iinitan, sa kaklaseng parati silang niyayabangan o sa kalarong parati silang iniisahan.

Mula noon hanggang ngayon, ang rock sa pangkalahatan ay hindi nakapagbibigay ng pampulitikang direksiyon sa kabataan dahil ang kadalasang tema’t mensahe ng mga kanta ay nakatuon lang sa personal. Bihirang maisakonteksto ang personal na pinagdaraanan sa panlipunang kaayusan. At lalong kakaunti ang mga naglalahad ng diskurso sa pambansang kalagayan.

Masasabing ang komersiyalismo ay ugat ng mga kompromisong kailangang gawin ng mga banda’t iba pang artista para makarating sa publiko ang kanilang musika. Mayroon din namang bandang walang pulitikal na oryentasyon at kontento nang lumikha ng mga musikang walang malinaw na mensahe.

Anuman ang kahinaan ng maraming banda, sana’y ang pagkahumaling sa rock ay dalhin ng kabataan hanggang pagtanda, at gamitin itong batayan ng paghahanap hindi lang ng mas makabuluhang musika para sa kanila kundi ng direksiyong dapat tahakin.

Para makipag-ugnayan sa awtor, pumunta sa www.dannyarao.com.

For those who are not familiar with Tano, it’s a song about a farmer who gets heavily indebted to a landlord. Tano then decides to join the revolutionary forces. It’s not just because he was pushed against the wall; he had the realization that there is absolutely no hope for development within the political system.

In case you’re not aware, rap actually started as a form of protest in the West, a very radical departure from the current trend of self-absorption and existential angst. If you don’t believe me, try listening to The Revolution Will Not Be Televised by Gil Scott-Heron.

What the political rappers did in this particular video is therefore a reaffirmation of the nature of this music genre. In any case, enjoy the video and tell me what you think. Thank you for your attention.

The first was commissioned by the UP administration in time for the year-long centennial celebration which started last January 8. The second, on the other hand, is the official UPLB centennial theme song, having won the UPLB 19.09 Musicfest in September 2007.

Let’s start by analyzing the lyrics of the upbeat rock song UP Ang Galing Mo!

UP Ang Galing Mo!

Narito kami nagpupugay
Sa unibersidad ng aming buhay
Ikaw pa rin ang binabalikan
‘Di pa rin malilimutan
Ikaw ang UP naming mahal

Salamat sa iyong mga guro
Salamat sa inyong pagtuturo
Taglay n’yo ang kahusayan
Taglay n’yo ang karunungan
Hinubog n’yo kami sa kabutihan

Sandaang taon na tayo
Lagi ka pa rin sa aming puso
Kaya’t kami sumasaludo
UP ang galing mo!
UP ang galing mo!

Wala nang iba pang maihahambing
Sa talino mo’t angking galing
Daanin man sa siyensya
High tech man o kahit ano pa
Ikaw UP ang nangunguna

Sa iyong mga dugo ang kasaysayan
Dumaloy sa pag-unlad ng ating bayan
Sagisag ka ng kagitingan
Bandila ka ng kalayaan
Pag-asa ka ng mamamayan

Sandaang taon na tayo
Lagi ka pa rin sa aming puso
Sandaang taon na tayo
UP ang galing mo!
UP ang galing mo!

Sandaang taon na tayo
Dangal ka ng Pilipino
Sentro ka ng pagbabago
UP ang galing mo!

Sandaang taon na tayo
UP ang galing mo!
UP ang galing mo!

The music and lyrics effectively capture the euphoria surrounding UP’s 100 years. The beat and genre appeal more to the youth crowd. In the process, some UP students can’t be blamed for liking the song. However, I’ve noticed that the more discerning ones are not that receptive, and for good reason.

If you know your basic Filipino grammar, you would immediately notice what’s wrong with a particular word that can be found in the title no less: Instead of “ang galing,” it should be “kay galing.” That the former is commonly used in conversational Filipino does not make it grammatically correct, at least for now. However, you should know that continuous use of the ungrammatical could result in its acceptance in the future.

Don’t you find some lack of creativity in the second stanza where the guro (teachers) are thanked for their…pagtuturo (teaching)? It’s a given that teachers teach. While the intention is to commend teachers for properly shaping their students, there should have been a more creative way in writing this. One cannot be blamed if he or she suspects that the composer simply ran out of words in deciding what rhymes with “guro.”

I also don’t think that UP being first when it comes to “high technology” is true. UP may have the best minds in the country, but the common lament of most students (and professors for that matter) is the lack of basic facilities. And in the context of social relevance, shouldn’t we have an inherent bias for appropriate technology instead of the state-of-the-art?

What about our excellence in non-natural science disciplines like literary arts and media? Kindly refer to the line “High tech man o kahit ano pa.” As a faculty member of the university’s College of Mass Communication (CMC), I guess I belong to the “kahit ano pa” crowd. (Should I be thankful for this?)

There is also something awkward about the use of dugo (blood): History is said to be in our blood, and that the latter flows as society develops. What does this mean? Another important point in grammar: Dugo is already a collective noun so it becomes redundant to use mga as modifier.

As regards the singing style, I am uncomfortable with the singer’s pronouncing unibersidad as YU-NI-BER-SI-DAD. This reminds me of rock singer Ramon Jacinto’s tendency to use American twang in some of his songs in Filipino (Sinasabi ko sa yow/Na wala ekong daramdamin…). While having an accent in using a foreign language is understandable, a Filipino speaking his or her own language should learn proper pronunciation of simple words like unibersidad.

Now that we’re through analyzing this rock song, perhaps we should take it “slow” by analyzing Isang Daan which has, quite predictably, a slow tempo.

Isang Daan

Isandaang taong pagsisilbi sa bayan
Isandaang taon ng kagitingan
Ginising ang ating puso’t isipan
Mula sa pagkakatulog ng kamalayan

* Isang daan tungo sa karunungan
Isang daan tungo sa kagalingan
Daan na tinuro ng ating pamantasang hirang
Inilaan para sa ’ting mga anak ng bayan

Dumating man ang hangin ng pagbabago
Iskolar, huwag patitinag itaas ang kamao
Kasing lawak at ‘sing taas ng langit
Ang abot ng isipan mo

(Repeat *)

Magbago man ang panahon
Pamantasan nati’y ‘di patatalo
Iskolar ng bayan noon at ngayon
Laging angat sa iba

Isang daan tungo sa karunungan
Isang daan tungo sa kagalingan
Isang daan tungo sa karunungan
Isang daan tungo sa kagalingan

(Repeat *)

Notice that the words sandaan (one hundred) and isang daan (one way or one road) are used creatively and convincingly by the composer.

Even if it won a contest at UPLB and is thus the theme song of that particular constituent unit, this is a song that can be embraced not just by the entire UP system but also other 100-year old state universities (e.g., Philippine Normal University) whose students are considered “scholars of the people.”

The reason for this is simple: Unlike UP Ang Galing Mo!, Isang Daan does not make any direct reference to UP, and there was also no allusion to the things that make UPLB distinct and distinguished like agriculture, forestry and development communication. I think this is a welcome move as the composer had the liberty to focus more on UP’s orientation and its tradition of excellence.

There is also an attempt to be socially relevant as the scholars of the people are called upon to continue raising their fists (a sign of militancy), the wind of change notwithstanding. That UP also helped raise the students’ consciousness was also mentioned right at the first stanza.

The lyrics, however, can still be improved. In the first stanza, strictly speaking, the word sandaang should have been used instead of isandaang. (If you don’t believe, look at the P100 bill.) In the refrain, the line “Daan na tinuro…” should have been “Daang itinuro…”

These weaknesses notwithstanding, Isang Daan is a fitting tribute to UP and other state universities especially at a time of government’s very limited subsidy to education.

If you want to have MP3 files of UP Ang Galing Mo! and Isang Daan, you may search the Net or you can opt to just contact me.

Much as I want to, bandwidth limitations prevent me from uploading the two MP3 files. In any case, I’ll be more than happy to share mine with you via email, should you want to.

That’s all for now. Thank you for reading.

In terms of sound quality, it is better than the original acoustic version which, from what I know, is the entry to the September 2007 contest.

That I prefer the acoustic over this official version is just a matter of opinion: You might like the official version if you’re not familiar with the song “We Are the World” which, for some reason, came to mind as I watched this video.

Since it was uploaded only last June 4, only a few people (149 views as of this writing) have seen this video which I took the liberty of embedding for your enjoyment.

I hope you won’t get easily distracted by the smiling faces and totally unrelated gestures as they sung a serious and solemn song. Give the students a break: It’s their moment of glory, after all, and they have every reason to be proud of their work.

It was while listening to these songs that I remembered a long-delayed promise to critique the three other songs that I like most in the album. If you may recall, I wrote about the title cut Rosas ng Digma and Ang Tugon in my previous post. I now take this opportunity to analyze Kahit Kailan, Sa Duyan ng Digma and I Could Have Said.

Kahit Kailan is a song of love between two comrades. Unlike some songs in the album that focus on the love between an activist and a non-activist, there is an attempt in Kahit Kailan to relate a progressive couple’s natural yearning for each other’s company to the need to fulfill political tasks that oftentimes result in self-sacrifice. Please analyze the lyrics of this song to assess the “political correctness” of a particular activist who is both deeply committed and a hopeless romantic.

Kahit Kailan

Bawat sandali nitong buhay nating maikli
Ibig ko laging sabihin na kita’y minamahal
Di sa lahat ng panahon magkatabi’t magkaakbay
Darating din ang araw tayo ay mawawalay

Kahit kailan, kahit saan
Mananatili ka sa puso ko
Ang pag-ibig nating dalawa patuloy na magliliyab

* Itong ating nadarama ay dalisay at payak
Isang pag-ibig na sumibol sa marahas na panahon
Panahong hindi malaya, katarunga’y di tapat
Pangyayaring di tumutugma sa buhay nating pangarap

** Kahit kailan, kahit saan
Pakikibaka’y di mapigilan
Ang sigaw ng ating puso baguhin ang mundo
Kahit kailan, kahit saan
Tagumpay man o kabiguan
Ang pag-ibig nating dalawa hangad ay paglaya

(Repeat *)

(Repeat ** 2x)

Ang pag-ibig nating dalawa hangad ay paglaya

If you’ve been in love before, you know that you cannot blame a person for entertaining thoughts like separation from the one he or she loves. To paraphrase (and contextualize) an old saying, there are only two things you cannot avoid in the Philippines – the value-added tax (VAT) and death.

The first is one of the many reasons to revolt, the second is an inevitable occurrence that you hope will happen first to the real enemies of the state (acronyms GMA and FG come to mind). In any case, there’s nothing defeatist about anxieties over separation (pagkawalay or paghihiwalay) from a loved one.

From a revolutionary point of view, however, there is something wrong in making public pronouncements about the possibility of failure in the struggle for meaningful change. Adherence to a cause carries with it a high degree of certainty about the correctness of one’s political line.

While ideology, politics and organization can evolve over time, taking into account the objective conditions of society, the failure brought about by incorrectness is never an option. It is possible that there will be errors in strategy and tactics along the way, but the failure (kabiguan) referred to in the song does not talk about a task in particular but the movement in general.

What makes matters worse is the song’s underlying message: Despite the failure of the revolution, the love that exists between the two will still thrive. Isn’t it that love between two activists should be anchored on the movement they belong to?

As a last point, allow me to analyze the song’s last line: Ang pag-ibig nating dalawa hangad ay paglaya. (Loose translation: The love between us yearns for freedom.) Freedom from what? Is it from the inherently rigid structure of the progressive organization they belong to? Or is it freedom from the shackles of state repression?

As regards Sa Duyan ng Digma, it is a very, very short song that I like so much that I thought about singing it when I married Joy in December 2004. (Point of digression: I ended up singing another song instead.)

Why do I like it? In terms of form, there are no high notes. In terms of content, it’s politically correct…almost. Read the lyrics below to know what I mean.

Sa Duyan ng Digma

Hangga’t ang ating pag-ibig ay tunay
Bawat pintig ng pag-asa’y taglay
At sa ating digma at pagsuyo
Kainlanma’y di mabibigo

Hangga’t ang ating pag-ibig ay tunay
Bawat mithi natin ay may saysay
At di magsasawang hanapin
Ang tunay na paglaya natin

* Tayo’y maglakbay, hawak-kamay
Aabutin natin ang tagumpay
Bagong bukas ay naghihintay
Aking mahal

Hangga’t ang ating pag-ibig ay tunay
Himig ng bayan ay laging buhay
Sa bawat isip at damdamin
Patuloy nating aawitin

(Repeat * 2x)

Aking mahal

Unlike Kahit Kailan, Sa Duyan ng Digma boosts the morale of activist couples by stressing that failure is not an option in the struggle for change. There is also a good context to the relationship as holding hands, for example, is not just a public display of affection but actual work in fulfilling political tasks. What makes this song effective is that it is sung by a woman: It is the female, perceived in patriarchal society as the “weaker sex,” who assures her partner that total victory will be achieved.

The journey (lakbay) of the couple can be interpreted in various ways, but I am inclined to think that the partner is being asked to join the female in going to the mountains and be part of the revolutionary struggle.

So now, you may ask: What is the weakness of this seemingly perfect song, politically speaking? Haven’t you noticed that the couple’s being part of the movement, together with the eventual victory of the struggle, is contingent on their unrequited love for each other? (“Hangga’t ang ating pag-ibig ay tunay” or “As long as our love is true”) One gets the impression that their separation for whatever reason will negatively affect the struggle, particularly their commitment to be a part of it.

While we acknowledge that an activist also needs to mend a broken heart, failure in love should not affect his or her ideological, political and organizational commitment.

Allow me to end this post with an analysis of I Could Have Said, the only English song in the album.

In terms of form, it is undeniably my favorite, not because it’s in English, but because it uses “I love you” several times without being corny. This reminds me of Paul McCartney’s Silly Love Songs which, ironically, also has “I love you” repeated two or four times throughout the song, either as refrain, bridge or counterpoint.

In terms of content, it is also generally politically correct. Kindly analyze the lyrics below:

I Could Have Said

I have seen so much faces
As I walk to my age
But there’s someone
I can never compare;
You have the eyes of compassion
And the voice of the truth
For you were borne out
In the midst of the struggle

Something makes me feel this strange
Somehow I long for you

As I’ve been watching you
From the day till night
You were singing
The songs of the people;
And the echo resounded
To my thoughts, to my soul
To my music, it ever continued

Something makes me look at you so differently,
Somehow I wanted to be beside you

* As thousands march the streets
And the red flags were waving
We’re alongside
The oppressed and disheartened,
You have vowed not to leave them
As we get all the beatings
From a state
That doesn’t care

But you made it clear to me
You made me feel the sweet things of freedom

** I’ve been thinking of you
A beauty so perfect
For you are one
With the struggle of the people

But before you have left to the hills and the mountains
I wish I could have said, “I love you.”

I love you (2x)

(Repeat *)

(Repeat **)

You made me feel
Feel the sweet things
The sweet things of freedom

Sweet things of freedom (3x)

The music is quite haunting, and the lyrics are obviously strong. That it is sung by a female makes the message more effective. The female is apparently a non-activist who gets intrigued by the lifestyle of an activist and then joins the latter in rallies and other activities. The object of her affection decides to go to the mountains to become a revolutionary, and she is left behind, regretting her failure to profess her love.

What proves to be a bit unfortunate is the message that, as a woman, one should keep to herself her feelings because she should wait for the man to say “I love you.” This is a very feudal attitude and it’s ironic that eradicating feudalism is a major objective of the revolutionary movement.

One may also be led to ask why the woman decided to be left behind when the object of her affection went to the hills. If they share the same conviction, they should go together, right?

These weaknesses notwithstanding, Rosas ng Digma remains one of my favorite albums and nothing can make me delete its 12 songs from my computer and MP4 player. I just hope, however, that should the producers and artists decide to come up with a second volume, these constructive criticisms will be kept in mind.

Even if I think I don’t deserve to be called an activist, I am somewhat hooked on listening to these songs every now and then. Suffice it to say that the entire album is in my MP4 player. My personal favorites are I Could Have Said, Sa Duyan ng Digma, Kahit Kailan, Rosas ng Digma and Ang Tugon (in that particular order).

But just how progressive is it? I discussed in one of my classes that the songs are good, but not good enough to pass the highest standards of ideological, political and organizational correctness.

Upon visiting the Philippine Revolution Web Central (PRWC), a website maintained by the information bureau of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP), you may notice that Rosas ng Digma is not included in the section “Mga Rebolusyonaryong Awit” (Revolutionary Songs).

Don’t get me wrong. The songs in Rosas ng Digma talk about love at a time of chronic crisis and use the revolutionary movement as a backdrop in creatively illustrating the joys and hardships that those in love go through. However, the discourse on love has, from time to time, delved more on the personal rather than political. There are also lines in the song that border on sexism.

Please read carefully the lyrics of the title cut Rosas ng Digma:

Sumibol sa isang panahong marahas
Bawat pagsubok ay iyong hinarap
At hangga’t laya’y di pa nakakamtan
Buhay mo’y laging laan

Namumukadkad at puno ng sigla
Tulad mo’y rosas sa hardin ng digma
At di maiwasang sa’yo ay humanga
Ang tulad kong mandirigma

(Refrain) Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta

Ang kulay mong angkin, sintingkad ng dugo
Nagbibigay-buhay sa bawat puso
Tinik mo’y sagisag ng tapang at giting
Sa langara’y kislap ng bituin

(Repeat refrain twice)

Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta

While the revolutionary backdrop is clear, it’s unfortunate that the male singer likens his loved one to a rose that should be taken care of. The subtext is that women are inherently weak and, like roses and other plants, cannot survive without kindness of those who care. Perhaps those involved in the armed struggle frown upon the use of the phrase “hardin ng digma” (garden of war) because there is nothing green or beautiful about the ongoing war. To be blunt about it, the people’s war may be just, but it is inherently ugly, very much unlike a garden with its pristine greenery.

The answer to this song, aptly titled Ang Tugon and sung by a female, proves to be much worse:

Ika’y paru-parong nangahas lumipad
Sa dilim ng gabi pilit na umalpas
Pagkat hanap mo’y ningning at laya ng bukas
Sa aking mundo’y napadpad

Katulad ng iba ay nagmamahal din
Kahit malayo ay liliparin
Upang pag-ibig mo’y iparating
Sa rosas ng iyong paningin

(Refrain) Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta

(Repeat refrain)

Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta

My tip to those who are planning to profess their love: Please do not say that your loved one is like a butterfly. The latter’s life span is only up to two weeks, and studies show that “the male tends to live a few days than the female.” I remember a moderate student political party at UP Diliman was criticized a few years ago for using the butterfly as its symbol of change. So why is it now used as a symbol of militancy?

That both the male and female singers of Rosas ng Digma and Ang Tugon are yearning to be together may sound harmless; but in the context of revolutionary struggle, isn’t it logical for both of them to be part of it? In other words, both the man and the woman should be mga pulang mandirigma (red warriors). It may not be the intention of the singers and composers, but those who have listened to this song could have the impression that the revolution gets in the way of unrequited love between two people.

The weaknesses of the two songs partly explain why I like the other songs in the album more, even if they also have their own share of weaknesses, the details of which could be the subject of another post.

Then again, I am very happy to note that there are efforts by Musikang Bayan to sort of rectify the weaknesses of the song Ang Tugon. Below is a video from YouTube (uploaded on August 3, 2007) which shows a live performance of Musikang Bayan in Cebu City. Please pay close attention to the revised lyrics of the second song, widely applauded by the audience. (Technical note: If you’re using Dilnet, chances are you won’t be able to view the video as the UP Computer Center blocks YouTube.)

Yes, design and layout have nothing to do with music, but both of them need to adjust to a target audience which was the subject of my discussion. Thank you for reading.