OPINION | SHOUTS IN THE STREETS: How Protest Became a Crime

𝗔 𝗚𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗧𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻

Across the Philippines, students have always been at the heart of political movements. From the First Quarter Storm in the 1970s to more recent demonstrations, young people have consistently raised their voices against injustice. But today, that voice is being met with an unsettling mix of force, intimidation, and fear.

In the past months, scenes of police clashing with student demonstrators have sparked outrage nationwide. Allegations of officers storming dormitories, arresting students, and using violence to silence them have spread rapidly online. Whether every claim is true or not, one thing is clear: fear is being used as a weapon.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

On September 21, 2025, protests erupted across the country under the banner of the “Trillion Peso March,” a nationwide movement against alleged corruption in flood-control projects. In Manila, demonstrators filled Rizal Park (Luneta) and massed near the EDSA People Power Monument, clashing with police in some of the most intense scenes the capital has seen in years.

The Manila Police District reported over 216 arrests, including minors as young as nine. Near the Malacañang Palace, 49 protesters were seized in confrontations that saw allegations of rock-throwing, fire bombs, and road blockades. Similar actions unfolded in cities from Cebu to Davao, from Baguio to Iloilo, creating the largest coordinated student-led protests in recent memory.

Yet the most chilling claims go beyond arrests. Rights groups and local activists allege that at least 30 people were killed during and after clashes with police, with some victims reportedly students. While the government has denied responsibility and investigations remain murky, the stories of disappearances, bodies turning up in morgues, and families left without answers fuel the sense that violence is being used deliberately to stamp out dissent.

𝗙𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗧𝗼𝗼𝗹

The strategy is painfully clear: make protest feel dangerous enough that people will think twice before joining. Fear, after all, is often more effective than force in silencing dissent. When students see their classmates bloodied, their friends dragged into police vans, or their peers whispered about as “missing,” the message spreads faster than any official order: resistance comes at a price.

Violence in the streets — The use of water cannons, tear gas, and batons leaves more than just temporary bruises. These tactics are meant to shock, to overwhelm the senses, to turn what should be peaceful gatherings into scenes of chaos. For students, the sting of tear gas or the blow of a truncheon is a reminder that their voices are treated as threats, not contributions to democracy.

Arrests and detentions — The sight of young activists forced into vans, often without clear charges or immediate access to lawyers, sends a chilling message to those watching. It tells every student on the sidelines, “If you speak up, this will happen to you.” The arrest of minors makes that message even more powerful, a signal that no one, not even the youngest voices, are safe from state force.

Rumors and fear-mongering — Beyond physical force, fear spreads through words. Stories of dorm raids, abductions, and disappearances, whether true or exaggerated, create a climate of uncertainty. Even if fact-checkers later debunk them, the initial shock lingers. Students start avoiding protests, parents forbid their children to participate, and schools distance themselves from activist groups. The fear becomes self-sustaining, needing little effort from authorities to keep it alive.

These tactics don’t just harm individuals in the moment, they chip away at the fabric of community life. Protest groups lose members. Families teach their children silence instead of courage. Universities, once centers of debate and activism, grow quieter. The silence that follows is not natural; it is manufactured. And that silence is exactly the outcome authorities are aiming for.

𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗜𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀

Protest is not chaos, it is democracy in motion. For students, demonstrations are not only about demanding change in government policy but also about practicing the citizenship they are promised under the Constitution. To march, chant, and hold placards is to claim a stake in shaping the nation’s future. When these actions are met with violence and intimidation, it sends a deeper message: that ordinary citizens’ voices do not matter unless they echo the state.

The consequences go far beyond one protest or one generation. Every baton strike and every unjust arrest plants seeds of mistrust between young people and the institutions that are supposed to serve them. Instead of viewing the police as protectors, students begin to see them as enforcers of silence. Instead of believing in dialogue with leaders, they learn that speaking up will only lead to pain or punishment. This disillusionment festers, creating cycles of resentment that weaken democratic values over time.

And the truth is, every time the state meets peaceful activism with force, it drives the next generation further away. Students who might have been engaged citizens, working with the government to build solutions, turn instead to anger or apathy. Dialogue is replaced by distance. Hope is replaced by fear. In the long run, a government that silences its youth is not just crushing protests, it is cutting off the very lifeblood of democracy itself.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗡𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲

The way forward is not through batons or fear, but through dialogue and accountability. Independent investigations should follow every violent dispersal and every alleged killing. Students should have safe channels to express dissent without fearing for their safety. Police must be trained not as enforcers of silence, but as protectors of rights.

The Philippines has seen, time and again, that young voices are often the first to call out injustice. Silencing them only dims the country’s democratic spirit.

𝗔 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁

Whether or not every story of raids or abductions is verified, the feeling on the ground is undeniable: students are afraid. And when fear replaces freedom, society loses more than just a protest, it loses a piece of its democracy.

The question we’re left with is this: will the Philippines listen to its young people, or will it try to scare them into silence, no matter the cost?

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#TheMaroonInk

#UMIHS