Thursday, February 26, 2026

π—™π—˜π—”π—§π—¨π—₯π—˜: "Undying Placards: The Memoir of the 1986 People Power Revolution" by Kyla Joy Pontiga

 

Layout by: Queen Xyra Blancia

Published by: Jielian Lobete

Date Published: February 26, 2026

Time Published: 2:15PM


In four historic days, Filipinos moved as one—rising not with weapons, but with courage—against the political abuses of a regime that had ruled for two decades. A mark was etched into history, one that time cannot erase. Along a single highway in Metro Manila, ordinary citizens proved that power does not only sit in palaces—it also lives in the streets.


The People Power Revolution, more widely known as the EDSA Revolution, became the nation’s collective stand against the authoritarian rule of former President Ferdinand Marcos. What began as murmurs of resistance swelled into 96 hours of prayer, protest, and defiance along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA). It was not simply a political confrontation, but a battle of will—faith standing firm against fear.


But revolutions do not ignite without a spark. What pushed thousands, then millions, to gather under the scorching sun? What truly unfolded between February 22 and 25 1986 that shifted the course of Philippine history? Behind the images of rosaries, raised hands, and armored tanks lies a chain of causes and choices that shaped those days.


As we revisit the roots of the uprising, the events that defined it, and the changes it set into motion, we begin to see that EDSA is more than a memory. Its lessons ripple into the present, challenging today’s society to reflect on democracy, accountability, and the enduring strength of unity.


THE SPARK


For two decades, the Marcoses led the country under the promise of a “New Society.” Yet for many Filipinos, it became a time marked by fear, hardship, and deepening inequality—while those seated in the highest offices only grew more powerful.


The old saying rang painfully true: the poor grew poorer, and the rich grew richer.


It was not merely the length of Ferdinand Marcos’ rule that stirred anger, but the manner in which he governed. In 1972, he declared Martial Law—an era that saw the rewriting of the Constitution, the reduction of civil liberties, and the tightening of power within the executive branch and his closest allies. The press was silenced, industries were controlled, and the nation sank deeper into debt through loans from global financial institutions. The “New Society” many had voted for in 1965 began to feel like a nation restrained.


Fighting for what is right was dangerous at his time. Thousands were arrested, tortured, or killed—journalists, activists, students—voices that loved their country enough to question its leadership. Each silenced life deepened public outrage. And then came 1983, the time pf the assassination of opposition leader Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr. Though responsibility was never legally pinned on Marcos, suspicion spread like wildfire. For many, it was the final fracture in a government already cracked by distrust.


What began as a quiet stirring of frustration swelled into a collective cry for change. The people had endured long enough. The tension that had been building for years was about to find its stage—not in whispers, but in the crowded streets of EDSA, where history would soon unfold.


THE MARCH


Marcos’ victory in the snap election of 1986 was widely seen as a fraud—an insult Filipinos could no longer swallow.


Soon, the once-busy stretch of EDSA transformed into sacred ground. In quiet defiance, hundreds of thousands gathered—priests and nuns clutching rosaries, families carrying food, strangers standing shoulder to shoulder beneath the scorching sun. Hope hung thicker than the heat. They did not march with weapons, but with courage, determined to bring a dictator down and lift freedom back up where it belonged.


Even within the military, there was growing unrest. When ordered to suppress the protesters, some officers refused and instead chose to stand with the people. Soldiers and civilians, once separated by fear, now stood side by side. The crowd grew stronger each day, proving that unity could challenge even the most powerful leader.


As chants for liberty echoed across the avenue, even former U.S. President Ronald Reagan signaled that Marcos’ time was over. Yet the regime clung to its final hours, appearing on television with strained composure while the nation’s pulse beat louder outside MalacaΓ±ang’s walls.


On the fourth day, history turned. Corazon Aquino took her oath, promising the return of a democracy long buried under the weight of authoritarian rule. And as the Marcos family fled the country, the crowd sang “Bayan Ko”—not in sorrow, but in victory and relief.


EDSA was not merely the end of a regime; it was proof of a people’s power when courage outgrows fear. The smiles that replaced the cries carried more than relief—they carried responsibility. For what was reclaimed in those four days would ripple far beyond 1986, shaping the freedoms, struggles, and questions we continue to face today.


FREEDOM'S FOOTPRINT


Who knew that the placards raised in 1986 would still strike the heart today—especially when familiar surnames once again sit at the top of government, inside MalacaΓ±ang Palace?


The People Power Revolution ended a dictatorship, but it did not erase the deeper cracks in our political system. Manipulated information, red-tagging and attacks on dissent, political dynasties, and justice delayed remain part of our national reality.


New challenges have layered themselves onto old ones. Jeepney modernization debates leave drivers fearing for their livelihood. Inflation continues to thin household budgets. Many young Filipinos graduate only to face underemployment or jobs abroad. Classrooms struggle with shortages, and online spaces overflow with disinformation that reshapes history in real time. Elections, at times, feel like contests between powerful families rather than platforms for genuine reform. All these remind us that democracy, while restored, is still unfinished.


Yet EDSA left us something enduring. It proved that citizens are not powerless spectators. The freedoms we exercise today—the right to assemble, to question leaders, to publish criticism, to organize movements—exist because people once stood unarmed on a highway and refused to surrender their voice. That quiet courage still echoes in campus forums, investigative journalism, fact-checking initiatives, and every vote cast with awareness.


Because of that legacy, remembering EDSA is more than looking back—it is a responsibility. May we never forget the darkness that led to it, especially in times when memory is easily rewritten. And may we never allow the same rotten system to take root again, for democracy survives only when its people choose, again and again, to protect it.


In 1986, millions of Filipinos took to the streets of EDSA in a peaceful revolt against the Marcos dictatorship. Families, students, workers, and even some military officers stood shoulder to shoulder under the hot sun, holding placards, singing hymns, and offering flowers. For four days, the people refused to be silenced, demanding the resignation of a leader who had ruled with fear and corruption. Their unity and courage forced the Marcos family to flee, and Corazon Aquino was sworn in as president, restoring democracy to the nation.


The revolution did not promise a perfect nation. It handed us responsibility. Democracy is not a monument we visit every February; it is a practice we must live daily. As familiar bloodlines continue to shape leadership and old systems attempt to steady themselves, the busy streets of EDSA remind us that authority does not begin in palaces or surnames—it begins with the people.


Perhaps that is the real challenge now. Not simply to commemorate the EDSA Revolution with nostalgia, but to carry its meaning into today’s struggles—to defend truth, demand accountability, and choose leaders with discernment. The placards may have lowered, but the call they carried and the flag they have fought for remains.


REFERENCES:


[1] This happened - february 22: People power in the Philippines - worldcrunch. (2024, February 22). https://worldcrunch.com/this-happened/philippines-people-power-revolution/


[2] Sanchez, M. J. (n.d.). The People Power Revolution, Philippines 1986. Origins. https://origins.osu.edu/milestones/people-power-revolution-philippines-1986


[3] EDSA People Power Revolution. Amnesty Philippines. (2022, July 22). https://www.amnesty.org.ph/2022/07/protestph-edsa-revolution/


[4] Baclagon, C. (2024, February 25). EDSA’s call to action. 350 Pilipinas. https://world.350.org/philippines/revolutionary-resonance-edsas-call-to-action/

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