“Four centuries of jihad, first against Spain, then America, now Marcos, and never defeated, even when we were no match for machine-guns and artillery, our struggle for freedom has continued.” Until he heard this, Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to talk with this gentleman, but now, not wanting to offend or upset him, he listened intently knowing as a Christian he would have to watch himself. “The Bangsamoro masses have always resisted in many ways, since our leaders have often fallen for tricks and collaborated with our enemies. Now our homes, our mosques, and our madaris are being burned, and armed Christians, instead of living side by side with us, are gorging themselves on our land and, without mercy, are killing our young, our old, and our women. ‘Rats,’ as we call them, attack us, while the government supports them and not us.” Nick was familiar with the story but, as it turned out, not with the whole story. He told the gentleman about his own experience in Central Luzon and his parents’ struggle against the government, to which to Nick’s surprise the gentleman frown. (Nick didn’t know the connection between his father’s revolt and the mass migration of Christians, or “rats,” from Central Luzon to Mindanao, resulting in the mass displacement of Muslims.) He would join the Muslims, if he could, he said, and the gentleman shook his head. Nick would have to do what he could in Manila, where he could support his Muslim brothers and sisters by speaking out. The gentleman acknowledged Nick’s statement with a grin, took his hand, and then shook his head again. “We’ve heard that before,” the gentleman said. Whereupon Nick asked, “What would it take to pacify the anger of the Muslim masses?” “I’ve often asked myself why is it so hard to be different,” the gentleman said. “Christians are in the minority here. Um! In any case, no one is stopping them from worshiping.”
My parents, who were converts of the Seventh Day Adventist church, supported missionaries in the Philippines and regularly sent money. Some of that money may have gone to Marawi and the Lakeside clinic there. At the time, I didn’t put this connection together until the gentleman mentioned the Seventh Day Adventist to Nick, talked about their good work and the clinic, and how they saved the life of one of his children. He praised Dr. Santos several times, finally using that as an example of how Christians and Muslim can live together in harmony. I missed the clinic when I walked around the city and would ask Susan if she saw it. (I would also have to write home and tell me parents about the good work they were doing in the Islamic City of Marawi.)
Later I asked Nick if he had found a post card.
“I didn’t get that far,” he said.
The next morning we left Marawi City by bus.
Randy Ford
