By Pilar Toribio

Painting the scene

Last January 23, a Twitter user known as PinoyAkoBlog posted an image of a graffitied ‘Team BBM-Sara’ tarpaulin. In the picture, it is seen that the word ‘duwag’ was spray-painted across presidential aspirant’s Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr.’s likeness.

In the caption,  the account holder expressed their disapproval of the graffiti, discouraging  their fellow ‘Kakampinks’ or Leni Robredo supporters to be radical by avoiding vandalism.

As of writing, the post has garnered 803 retweets, 754 quote tweets, and over 9,000 likes.  Within the comment section, some argued as to whether or not the graffiti was even done by a Leni-Kiko supporter, but many were overall in agreement with the caption.

As seen in one Twitter user’s comment, “[All] I can say is, dasurv, pero wag na sana nila uulitin, vandalism is wrong.”

However, the post sparked discourse across Twitter for its criticism towards protest art. Many progressives and artists felt that the post’s call-out on vandalism but encouragement of radicalism was ironic, as you cannot necessarily achieve one without the other.  

One social media user expressed their disagreement with the caption, defending the use of the visual arts as a means for protest. They then go on to say that vandalism should not be a priority in exchange for remaining silent when holding those accountable for their creation of “generational poverty and entrenched violence.” 

In their caption, they said, “To be radical is to be boisterous and transgressive. Say what you will about graffiti, but as I am from the visual arts, some mark-making [is] needed because this is to take down those people from above. Radicalism is about positionality and mobility. We move and try to hit high.”

This is just one of many examples of protest art being questioned for its purpose within society. While some Filipinos view it simply as synonymous with property damage, others encourage the art form as a means to challenge oppressors and forward social movements. 

A Medium for Change

Protest or activist art has been an avenue for artists to provide social commentary on their political landscape for quite some time.  Although there isn’t an exact moment in history that could be pinpointed, some say it began during the oppositions against World War I when many artists throughout the late 1910s to early 1920s dissented against the required participation in violence. 

Over the years, protest art has come to evolve through many different forms and expressions. No longer confined to variation of performance or traditional art—artists in the modern world have come to make use of media like digital posters,  interactive websites, street murals, fims, music and more. 

These media—graffiti and street murals in particular—are especially accessible because they are shown in public spaces where more ordinary folk can see them. Compared to pieces displayed in formal institutions like museums and galleries, they are less alienating and thus have a broader appeal to those who cannot afford to view commercial art. 

In the Philippines, protest art has been a significant contributor in spotlighting a large number of societal issues such as oppressive political figures and human rights violations. Going as far back to the Marcos dictatorship, wherein censorship was at its peak, political pieces gained popularity as they paved the way for citizens to assert themselves against the tyranny of the regime.

During the 1970s in particular, a group composed of young artists known as “Kaisahan” triggered the social realism movement in the country through their visual depictions of the atrocities committed under Martial Law. 

#WAKASAN NA

In present times, the visual arts have remained a strong driving force during demonstrations and protests. There has been a notable resurgence of artists using their talents to speak out against the many injustices committed by the Duterte administration.  

On President Rodrigo Duterte’s first day in power, he implemented a brutal drug war, giving rise to extra-judicial killings that scarred thousands of Filipino families and unlawfully imprisoned thousands of individuals, most of whom belong to urban poor communities. Now, as he nears the end of this term, he leaves behind a legacy of media repression, militarization, criminal neglect during health crises and natural disasters, and failure to defend national territory, among others. 

Last year, during the State of the Nation Address (SONA), demonstrators marched to the University of the Philippines – Diliman to express their disapproval of the administration’s poor leadership and questionable policies. Along with their own versions of Filipino cartoonist Tarantadong Kalbo or Kevin Raymundo’s tumindig avatar,  which depicts the universal symbol of resistance of a fist raised in the air, protestors also carried signs depicting comic book-style illustrations of working class Filipino citizens opposing the government, with bold text placed at the top saying: “WAKASAN NA!”  

More recently, with the national elections drawing closer, progressive arts and culture groups like Panday Sining have used social media as a platform to vocalize their disapproval of ComElec’s dismissal of Marcos Jr.’s’ tax evasion case, which allowed him to be an eligible candidate for the presidency. 

Through their posts, Panday Sining aims to encourage young Filipino artists to utilize their skills to speak out against the societal ills that continue to plague our country. They even provide programs and educational discussions to further empower them to make use of their abilities for the greater good of the country. 

Defiance or Obstruction to Private Property?

Beyond their digital space, multiple Panday Sining members have continued to use protest art to further their cause, as seen through the times it has drawn the ire of authorities and public officials for their “vandalism” of public spaces. 

Back in 2019, the group graffitied a wall located at the Lagusnilad underpass with protest slogans such as: 

“Presyo, Ibaba! Sahod, Itaas!”

“US-China Layas!”  

But what gained the most attention was a mural of a police officer holding a gun. With the officer’s eyes sunken and its body shrouded in gray, the mural conveyed a threatening air illustrating the cultures of fear and impunity created by and instilled in the national police.  Behind it are the words: “Ano ang gagawin pag pulis mismo ang kriminal?” with the group’s signature “PS” at the bottom.

In another case, 4 Panday Sining members were arrested and beaten by police officers while riding a jeepney for graffitiing a mural of Andres Bonifacio while attending the national hero’s commemoration rally.

Both instances were received with mixed reactions from the public. On one hand, individuals such as Isko Moreno, current Mayor of Manila, publicly fumed over the youth group for “ruining” the Lagusnilad underpass, which at the time was newly constructed. 

He said to reporters, “Ang ganda ganda na, eh. Ang linis na. It took 15 years for that underpass to be attended. Nobody attended to that underpass. Kayo ang nambababoy eh. Hindi makatwiran ‘yan.”

On the other hand, progressive artists like Donna Miranda of Sama-samang Artista para sa Kilusang Agraryo (SAKA), expressed their support for Panday Sining. Miranda said their work is indeed crucial in our society today as it brings emphasis on our sovereignty as citizens and right to self-expression.

She goes on to say that despite local authorities having the power to penalize those who contribute to graffiti and other forms of vandalism, there should be more attention placed on the actual message of their work rather than on the illegal aspect of it. She adds that the government’s turning a blind eye to what the pieces aim to convey is very telling of how our politicians treat public opinion. 

Leaving Lasting Impressions

While graffitied protest art is, in some cities, not exactly a legal means of expressing one’s criticism, the significance of said criticism undeniably remains to be valid. Whether you are for or against it, the whole point of graffiti or other mediums of art is to strike a lasting impression on those who come across it. And if the substance of an artwork highlights crucial conversations revolving around police brutality, exploitation, and many other problems within the Philippines—shouldn’t that be the focus instead?

Daniel Aloc, a writer for Inquirer.net, puts it best in their opinion article:

“People are getting killed without due process and workers are being jailed for merely asserting their rights, while the Duterte administration is selling out the country’s sovereignty to China. Yet we choose to focus our attention on Panday Sining’s graffiti act itself, rather than the message it is trying to convey? Why can we tolerate spray-painted signs like “bawal ang umihi dito” but not political slogans that expose government injustice?”

In short, change does not come from comfort. Rather, it comes from the uncomfortable. The point of protest art is not to showcase juvenile attempts of misconduct, but to contribute to much-needed societal transformations by challenging repressive boundaries and bringing the audience’s attention to pressing issues.