Bakit takot tayong pag-usapan ang rekrutment ng CPP-NPA?

The University of Santo Tomas recently hosted an academic colloquium on the prevention of terror grooming, a discussion that dared to confront one of the country’s most sensitive and complex issues: underground recruitment. The event was designed to open dialogue and challenge perspectives, a space where truth could surface even if it made some uncomfortable.

As one of the presenters, I knew the discussion would not be easy. Talking about the Communist Party of the Philippines, the New People’s Army, and the National Democratic Front has always been met with tension. True enough, familiar narratives about “red-tagging” and the “crimes of the state” surfaced, while the realities of underground recruitment and armed struggle were again buried under rhetoric.

During the open forum, a Philosophy student stood up to speak. She asked why I joined the New People’s Army and remarked that she believed my answer would be different now. Her question was strong and personal, one that cut through the formalities of the event. Before I could respond, she said she felt “in danger” because representatives of the National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict were in the room. She walked out before hearing my answer.

If only she had stayed.

My answer would have been simple and sincere. The reason I joined the NPA is still the same reason why I continue to fight today: for the Filipino people. What changed is not the cause but the direction. I am no longer under the dictatorship of the Communist Party of the Philippines. I no longer hide under the label of “activism” that excuses violence in the name of revolution. I am a Filipino citizen who upholds the Constitution, who chooses to speak and act openly, and who no longer hides behind a nom de guerre.

I was there not just to present our study, and certainly not to make anyone feel threatened. More than ever, I wanted to show that on the ground, things have changed. Former members of the CPP-NPA are still struggling to be accepted by mainstream society. Many of us carry visible and invisible scars. Some people want us erased rather than welcomed. We are still labeled murderers, rapists, and extortionists. Those labels are convenient, and they are false for many. They are stigma, the same kind of stigma that attaches to other marginalized sectors who have suffered neglect and exploitation. Yet despite the stigma, I believe in the many people who are sincere about fixing what is broken. There are honest actors inside the Armed Forces of the Philippines, in government agencies, and in academic institutions who want reform and who are ready to work together for real solutions. These people exist, and I see them everyday.

I understand the fear that made her walk out. It has deep roots in our history. From the years of the Marcos dictatorship to the present, many activists, journalists, and community workers have been harassed, arrested, or killed. Some of them were legitimate members of the CPP-NPA, and some were not. Would I ever say that these violations were right? Absolutely not. No ideology can justify extrajudicial killings or abuse of power. The security sector must always observe due process and follow the Comprehensive Agreement on Respect for Human Rights and International Humanitarian Law. Only in legitimate armed encounters can the use of force be justified, and even then, human rights must remain non-negotiable.

However, we must also acknowledge atrocities committed by the NPA itself. There are countless stories from far-flung communities of civilians killed and buried in secret graves, victims not of the military but of their own supposed protectors. Many were accused of being traitors or spies. I have seen the faces of the innocent and the broken families they left behind. These are also part of our national history, though often silenced by selective memory.

The Philosophy student asked why we are not discussing the reasons why there are NPAs. Ironically, that was the entire point of the colloquium. We were there to examine the roots of rebellion, to analyze the systemic problems that push people to take up arms, and to understand how the movement continues to manipulate genuine grievances. If only she had stayed longer, she would have realized that her question was not ignored but central to our purpose.

I do not dismiss her passion. I once carried that same fire when I was a student at the University of the Philippines Mindanao. I was angry at injustice, inequality, and the corruption of power. I believed that revolution was the only language the state could understand. But over time, I learned that rage without reflection becomes destruction. Revolution without conscience becomes tyranny.

The UST academic colloquium is a sign that our universities are finding the courage to engage with the difficult truths of our history. It shows that academic spaces can be arenas of reason and not propaganda. It proves that students are capable of listening, questioning, and discerning for themselves.

To the students who stayed until the end, who listened, who asked questions, and who were willing to understand, thank you. You are the hope of this country.

So why the question: “Bakit Takot Tayong Pag-usapan ang Recruitment ng CPP-NPA?” Both sides are uncomfortable with reality. The CPP-NPA fears exposure because their underground networks, recruitment strategies, and manipulation of grievances depend on secrecy. Every honest conversation about recruitment frustrates their machinery. At the same time, the government hesitates because acknowledging these realities means confronting systemic failures that have left the poor vulnerable, exploited, and angry enough to pick up arms in the first place.

Talking about recruitment is not propaganda. It is courage. It is objectivity rooted in lived reality. It is recognizing the struggles of the toiling masses, the missteps of revolutionary movements, and the failures of the state, all at once. Only by facing these truths without fear, without ideology, and without excuses can we begin to reform, to heal, and to build a society where no one is forced into the shadows to survive or fight.