[OPINION] ‘Difficult: The Life and Times of Etta Rosales’ — a big lesson in perspective

• Difficult: The Life and Times of Etta Rosales, written by Carmela Abao, explores Etta's life and activism, emphasizing the importance of context in understanding historical events.
• Etta's unwavering commitment to social justice and her transition from underground activism to mainstream politics highlight her adaptability and determination to effect change.
• The book illustrates that political commitment can evolve and that finding new ways to pursue a vision for social change is crucial, as demonstrated by Etta's enduring influence and legacy.

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Some biographies tell you what happened. Difficult: The Life and Times of Etta Rosales makes you stop and ask why. Written by Ateneo de Manila University political science professor Carmela “Melay” Abao, it is a very well-crafted book and, for me, a profound lesson in perspective — a reminder that events cannot always be understood on their own, but must be seen in the context of the times, the struggles, the choices, and the people who shaped them.

Reading Etta’s story made me look back at many events and people I thought I already understood and see them in a different light. What stays with me most is a deep admiration for Etta’s stubborn persistence — the refusal to give up on what she believed was right, even when the path was difficult and the odds were against her. 

Her commitment to a more just and humane society, especially for the poor and marginalized, was not simply an idea she espoused; it was a conviction she carried throughout her life. Her vision remained the one constant in a life marked by difficult choices amid changing political, as well as personal, circumstances. That, perhaps, is what makes her story both difficult and inspiring.

Difficult is divided into six chapters, chronicling Etta’s life from childhood, through her years in the underground movement, her transition to parliamentary politics, and eventually her chairmanship of the Commission on Human Rights. There is also a chapter devoted to her marriage and family life. The book ends with her struggles with cancer, stroke, COVID-19, and the Duterte presidency.

Etta, now 87 years old, grew up in relatively comfortable circumstances. The daughter of a military officer, she received her early education at the University of the Philippines (UP) before attending Woodrow Wilson High School in Washington, DC. She later studied English Literature at George Washington University but completed her college education at UP Diliman after her father was recalled to the Philippines and promoted to the rank of commodore. She earned a degree in Foreign Service.

She was first “exposed to activism” while pursuing a master’s degree in Asian Studies at UP in the late 1960s. Later, she was recruited into the underground movement and became active after the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus in 1971, and the declaration of Martial Law in 1972. 

She was captured twice, and during her second arrest in 1976, she was tortured and sexually harassed. Yet these experiences did not break her spirit. 

She continued the struggle, eventually helping lead the teachers’ movement through the Alliance of Concerned Teachers (ACT), the multisectoral organization Bagong Alyansang Makabayan (Bayan), and other formations of the national democratic movement.

When the CPP-NDF [Communist Party of the Philippines-National Democratic Front] split into factions, she identified with the anti-Joma Sison group known as the Rejectionists (RJ), while the other faction became known as the Reaffirmists (RA). Yet Etta refused to join any formal RJ organization. As she explained to some of her underground comrades who mostly identified with the RJs, she wanted to explore new forms and ways of struggle, particularly parliamentary politics.

What makes Etta’s decision to shift the arena of struggle particularly significant is that her move from revolutionary politics to electoral politics was not simply a move from idealism to pragmatism. It was a choice about where political struggle could be most effective.

While many of her colleagues in the underground wanted to establish an alternative to the CPP, Etta was thinking about how to continue the struggle for social change outside the ideological, political, and organizational ambit of the CPP — or of any other alternative organization. This led her toward mainstream politics.

Yet her entry into mainstream politics did not mean a rejection of her activism or of the principles that had guided her life. Rather, it raised a larger question: Can political transformation be pursued only from outside the state, or must movements eventually find ways to enter, occupy, and use state institutions to advance their vision of social change?

Etta’s willingness to test this question by courageously entering mainstream politics is, for me, one of her greatest contributions to the broader movement for social change. She was willing to move beyond the familiar terrain of movement politics and into institutions she had once challenged from the outside. It was not necessarily a retreat from struggle, but an attempt to discover whether the state itself could become another arena for pursuing the changes she had spent her life fighting for.

That is one of the things I find most compelling about Etta’s story. Her circumstances, political affiliations, and arenas of struggle changed, but her underlying purpose did not. She kept searching for ways to make her vision relevant to the realities of the time. And perhaps this is the deeper lesson of Difficult: political commitment is not always about where you stand or what organization you belong to. Sometimes, it is about finding new ways to pursue the same vision.

A few months ago, Etta and I were exchanging emails about the difference between the personality cult surrounding Marcos Sr. and that of Duterte. At the end of the first email, she wrote: “Etta, not so cockeyed optimist anymore.”

I replied, and she wrote back:

“It just occurred to me while reading your response to not so cockeyed me, that what you term as the ‘qualitatively persuasive segment of our population that has consolidated in favor of the Duterte cult’ was a slow process of dismay and disappointment post-EDSA Revolt. This lineal process was largely met by complacency and inaction and opportunism…”

Then, in the final paragraph, she wrote:

“As you explicitly express, it will perhaps take generations after to provide the creative response. Our duty now is to plant the grains and hope that one of them will grow out of the withered weeds.”

I keep coming back to those words.

Etta may no longer consider herself a “cockeyed optimist,” but I still see in her life the stubborn optimism that made her keep fighting, changing course when necessary, and looking for new ways to make a difference. She spent 54 years of her life planting those grains — in the underground, in the teachers’ movement, in the human rights community, in Congress, and in the institutions of the state.

And perhaps that is what I take away most from Difficult. Etta herself is one of the grains she planted. So are the people she inspired, the movements she helped build, and the ideas she refused to abandon.

And I remain optimistic — not cockeyed optimism, but a quieter and more stubborn kind — that one of those grains will indeed grow out of the withered weeds. – Rappler.com