Dear Meg, what can we do when comrades feel down? – Pinoy Weekly

Thank you for looking after our comrades, and for writing to me. I believe you’ve articulated something that’s difficult, but important, for us to talk about.

Losing hope as an activist, I can imagine, could feel very much like sinning. On top of feeling low—as one does with the loss of hope—one would also feel guilt, with thoughts along the lines of, “we’re not supposed to feel this way!”

But like I’ve written many times before, there are no shoulds with feelings. Losing hope does happen, and I would add, even to the best of us. The question, then, isn’t whether it’s alright to feel hopeless as a revolutionary, but what to do about it when we’re in the situation.

We begin with what’s within our control, always. We give ourselves the care we need, most preferably in a community setting. Yes, you might not have much hope right now, but I promise you’ll be fine if you’re there for each other—to listen, to cook and eat, to play music, to explore nature together (the list goes on), until the other feels better.

In any case, losing hope does not, and should not, mean losing commitment. I think this is the case for our comrades. In fact, I would argue that most of the time, it’s not the loss of hope that weighs them down, but the fear that because of it, they might have no use for the movement. That, as you know, is absolutely untrue.

More important than staying hopeful, I believe, is to keep fighting. To acknowledge the feelings’ existence, but to carry out one’s duties anyway. I think it helps a lot to focus on the work at hand. This way, one actually feels allowed to lose hope—what isn’t allowed is to not do what needs to be done. There’s a difference. Moreover, being able to do something still, however small, should bring a sense of accomplishment, and renew one’s strength.

Once you’ve regained some, I would advocate reclaiming hope, as a matter of principle. I think we must continue to look forward to the revolutionary vision of a better world, to believe in its possibility. To nurture this hope is, in a way, to honor the sacrifices of our martyrs: we do not give up because our comrades did not die in vain. Such hope, too, would be an expression of our faith in the oppressed, a supreme trust in their will to stand for their fellow human.

I wouldn’t say there had not been instances when I felt this will was not strong enough. But I’m saying that at many important moments and sometimes in the most unexpected situations, people do rise to the occasion. I think this is how history is made anyway, and why we can have this conversation today.

Fortunately, too, I’ve witnessed enough examples of miracles of life in the movement—people who could have easily taken oft-travelled roads, but became comrades who risked life and limb for the Cause, and with their sacrifices, made the impossible possible. There were dutiful churchworkers, and landlords and businessmen, who ended up becoming revolutionaries in our midst. There used to be timid farmers and workers who are now our most fervent campaigners, our most eloquent and revered freedom-fighters.

From the harsh days of the dictatorship, we also have countless stories of men and women who chose—against all logic of personal safety and instinct of self-preservation – and organize among communities. They showed us that in the most hopeless, pitch-dark situations, a spark can and does emerge, and change everything. Sometimes at once, sometimes over time. Both are alright.

Just yesterday I was talking to a friend who shared their experience of holding a long educational discussion with someone who used to not want to be involved in activism. Someone who once just liked a quiet and safe life. Someone who used to wonder how come activists would come to them even on weekends. Now they wanted to learn so much more about society—they did not want the session to end, and say they have never been more excited about studying.

My friend was overjoyed, and there was this glimmer in their eyes as they talked about it. I know this is not exactly the grand, sweeping triumph you might have wanted me to write about, but I think of how this might be what organizers go through each day, and keep them going: living with the people, understanding their needs, standing with them to fight for those needs. Misperceiving at times, making mistakes, and course-correcting. To try and try again while growing through errors, I think that’s what waging a revolution means.*

These days, we hear news of the State failing the people at every turn, alongside increasingly brazen attacks on activists, on the daily. It’s been injustice upon injustice, and each time, our heart breaks a little. In such instances, I know there is great power in seeing even the tiniest fruits of our efforts. They make the painful parts easier to bear.

In this admittedly tough time in our history, I wish you these moments, enough to keep you going. More importantly, I wish you the strength to stay in the struggle, and to be able continue to fight, and fight beyond hope.

Take care, F, and thank you once again for writing.

Meg