On the eve of the 52nd anniversary of martial law’s declaration in the Philippines, a convergence of art, activism, and journalism has thrown a powerful spotlight on the country’s ongoing struggle for truth and accountability. September 20, 2024, was a night of both celebration and reckoning at the Gawad Cultural Center of the Philippines Para sa Sining, where artists and writers gathered to honor lifetime achievements. Yet, beneath the formalities, tension simmered—an undercurrent that would soon break into open defiance.
Kiri Dalena, artist and activist, attended the awards in support of her mother, Julie Lluch, who was recognized for her groundbreaking work in visual arts. The event, according to Rolling Stone Philippines, was marked by the presence of Irene Marcos-Araneta—sister of President Ferdinand “Bong-bong” Marcos Jr.—who delivered remarks lauding the flourishing of arts and culture during the Marcos family’s earlier rule. But for many in the room, those words rang hollow, given the history of repression and violence that shadowed the Marcos era.
The night took a sharp turn when Pete Lacaba, poet, activist, and former political prisoner, accepted his award for literature. Lacaba’s speech pulled no punches, directly addressing the wounds that still fester: extrajudicial killings, disappearances of activists, red-tagging, and the white-washing of abuses—including the murder of his own brother, Eman Lacaba, during the martial law years. “Pinapaliguan ng pabango ang malalansang mga programa ng diktador Marcos,” he declared, calling out attempts to perfume the stench of dictatorship’s brutal programs. The room erupted as Dalena, positioned away from the Marcos contingent, led a chant: “Artista ng bayan, ngayon ay lumalaban!”—an artist of the people, now fighting back. The audience echoed her call, their voices swelling in a defiant chorus that underscored the stakes of expression in the Philippines.
Dalena’s activism is rooted in her family’s legacy. Born to Lluch, a pioneering feminist sculptor, and Danilo Dalena, a political cartoonist silenced by martial law, she grew up with a keen awareness that art could be dangerous. “We have this concept of activist as a very high, very elevated vocation because our concept of activism was [rooted] in the ‘70s, when activists would really be imprisoned or even killed,” Dalena reflected in an interview from Berlin. Her father narrowly avoided prison, while the Lacaba family endured both incarceration and loss. The trauma of those years shaped Dalena’s belief in the artist’s duty to empathize and connect with the most abused—a responsibility she has carried into her own work.
In the mid-2010s, Dalena co-founded Respond and Break the Silence Against the Killings (RESBAK), an alliance of artists, journalists, and cultural workers confronting the wave of extrajudicial killings unleashed by then-President Rodrigo Duterte’s war on drugs. Through exhibitions, videos, zines, and workshops, RESBAK sought to amplify the voices of victims’ families—often mothers and widows who, at first, feared even showing their faces in public. “It started na they were so fearful, so afraid of showing their faces,” Dalena recalled. But as RESBAK organized protests and public forums, survivors found the courage to speak out. “Doon lumakas ang loob ng survivors to talk in public.”
Dalena’s activism has become increasingly international. In June 2022, she traveled to Kassel, Germany, to participate in documenta, a major global art exhibition. There, she and other RESBAK members unfurled a “STOP THE KILLINGS” banner, made from a thousand mourning pins, and held talks about the ongoing violence in the Philippines. These actions, Dalena explained, were part of a broader effort to forge transnational alliances and keep human rights abuses in the international spotlight. “When I’m in Germany, I take advantage of my being here. That’s how we’re able to create connections for RESBAK.”
Now, in September 2025, Dalena is organizing more events in Berlin, including talks at universities and gatherings with groups like Gabriela and ALPAS Pilipinas. The aim is to bring families of victims to The Hague, where Duterte faces trial at the International Criminal Court. “This is a very important historic moment, and we want them to be able to witness it,” Dalena said. The hope that justice is possible, she noted, would have seemed unthinkable just eight years ago.
Dalena’s art is inseparable from her activism. Her works have documented tragedies large and small—from the Maguindanao massacre in 2010 to the orphans left by Typhoon Sendong in 2013, and the communities traumatized by Duterte’s drug war in 2020. One of her most haunting series, Erased Slogans, began in 2008 and continues to resonate. By digitally removing the text from protest banners in archival photos, Dalena creates images of eerie silence, evoking both the censorship of martial law and the lingering threat of authoritarianism. “I really did not learn the history of photography in school,” she admitted. “I learned through people who were very much not just photographers but human rights activists.”
But the Philippines’ struggle for truth and accountability is not isolated. On September 20, 2025, Maria Ressa—journalist, Nobel Peace Prize laureate, and co-founder of Rappler—appeared on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. The conversation quickly turned to the “weaponization of law” under Duterte, which saw Rappler targeted by government investigations, a shutdown order, and Ressa herself hit with 11 arrest warrants in a single year. ABS-CBN, the country’s largest broadcaster, was stripped of its license in 2020 after persistent political pressure. As Ressa told Stewart, “We just kept going. If you stop moving, you lose the rights you still have—and once they’re gone, it’s almost impossible to win them back.”
Ressa drew chilling parallels between Duterte’s tactics and those of former U.S. President Donald Trump, who has filed lawsuits against major media outlets and publicly celebrated the suspension of “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” after controversial remarks. The playbook, Ressa observed, is all too familiar: undermine the press, control the narrative, and chip away at democratic institutions. Comedians and late-night hosts, from Stewart to Stephen Colbert, have rallied in defense of free speech, but Ressa’s warning was clear: “The erosion of press freedom doesn’t happen in one dramatic moment—it happens in increments. By the time people wake up, the space for truth may already be gone.”
For Dalena, Ressa, and countless others, the lesson is urgent and personal. Whether through art, journalism, or protest, the fight for truth in the Philippines—and beyond—demands vigilance, courage, and solidarity. As history has shown, the costs of silence can be devastating, but the power of witness endures.
