When protests backfire: The lessons of Sept 21
THE 21st of September has always carried symbolic weight in the Philippines. It is the anniversary of the declaration of martial law in 1972, a day remembered for its lessons about authoritarianism, resistance and the resilience of democracy. This year, 2025, saw that symbolism renewed as rallies were held across the country, some peaceful, others descending into troubling chaos.
The images from last Sunday tell two contrasting stories. On one hand, the rallies held by leftist progressives at Luneta and by liberal groups at EDSA were calm, peaceful and disciplined. Families, students and civil society organizations came together in solidarity, holding placards, chanting slogans and remembering history. These gatherings reflected the dignified exercise of democratic rights, echoing the memory of EDSA’s peaceful revolt.
But the situation in Mendiola and Recto was starkly different. There, chaos erupted. Reports described rock-throwing, vandalism and unruly crowds that clashed with security forces. Ironically, the establishments targeted were not state offices or symbols of entrenched power, but small businesses, including, most infamously, a motel. What could have been a dignified demonstration of dissent devolved into thuggery.
The tragedy, almost comic in its absurdity, lies in the comparison. In Nepal and Indonesia, young protesters rage against governments they see as corrupt and unaccountable. They storm parliament buildings, burn symbols of state power, and demand systemic change. In the Philippines, the spectacle that went viral was not an assault on injustice but a ransacking of a motel, hardly the imagery that inspires political transformation. If this was meant to mimic the ferocity of regional counterparts, it instead became a parody.
Reports allege that some in the rock-throwing crowd were shouting pro-Duterte slogans. This raises disturbing questions on whether this violence was spontaneous, or engineered. The contrast is telling. Peaceful rallies at Luneta and EDSA sought accountability without destruction. But the eruption at Mendiola and Recto bore all the hallmarks of a deliberate attempt to sow fear and delegitimize the broader anti-corruption cause.
One Duterte Diehard Supporter (DDS) cynically hoped that after Sept. 21, many would change their minds and shift allegiance to the Dutertes. But many who witnessed the violence in Mendiola and Recto recoiled in disgust. For ordinary citizens who might have been sympathetic to the call of “Marcos Resign,” the violent imagery became unbearable. Rather than inspire outrage toward Marcos, the Mendiola disorder strengthened the perception that instability is worse than the status quo. In fact, some now say they would rather endure a Marcos presidency than risk entrusting the future to a movement that tolerates such chaos.
To many, it is increasingly evident that the DDS are pursuing a dangerous game plan to infiltrate or provoke rallies and turn them into spectacles of violence. The strategy is simple but effective. By tainting the anti-corruption movement with images of chaos, they undermine public sympathy and shift the narrative from corruption in government to disorder in the streets. For many Filipinos, already wary of upheaval, this is enough to tip the balance.
Prior to the rallies, there were rumors that by Monday, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. would no longer be in power. Such speculation was fueled by Vice President Sara Duterte’s conspicuous presence in Japan at the time, feeding whispers that she was poised to assume leadership should her supporters manage to create conditions for Marcos’ downfall. These may remain rumors, but the choreography of the violence, the timing, and the positioning feed suspicion that the unrest was less about corruption and more about succession.
This is why clarity is urgent. What is at stake is no longer just whether one supports or opposes Marcos. It is about whether we allow disorder, manipulation and thuggery to dictate the trajectory of our politics. The peaceful rallies in Luneta and EDSA demonstrated that dissent can be exercised responsibly, without undermining democratic values. The violence in Mendiola and Recto, in contrast, revealed the perils of allowing opportunists to hijack legitimate calls for accountability.
We must recognize the tactic for what it is. The DDS and their allies thrive on creating the perception of instability, hoping to manufacture consent for their return to power. But Filipinos must resist falling into this trap. Our history has shown that democratic change, even if imperfect, but when rooted in peaceful collective action, has far greater legitimacy and endurance than any movement tainted by violence.
Indeed, one need only look back to 1986. The ouster of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. was achieved not through bloodshed but through millions of citizens standing their ground peacefully. That memory remains a moral compass. We cannot allow it to be replaced by images of vandalized motels and rock-throwing mobs.
The lesson of Sept. 21, 2025, is therefore sobering. While protests are essential in holding leaders accountable, the manner in which they are conducted determines whether they build solidarity or breed revulsion. In this case, the violence backfired. Instead of weakening Marcos, it ironically and inadvertently bolstered him, reminding Filipinos of the risks of disorder and pushing many to cling to the safety of the status quo.
To move forward, those genuinely committed to the anti-corruption cause must draw a firm line. Violence, vandalism and chaos cannot be tolerated not only because they betray democratic values but also because they are politically self-defeating. By contrast, disciplined, creative and peaceful protest has the power to inspire and persuade.
This is no longer simply about being pro- or anti-Marcos. It is about safeguarding the integrity of dissent itself. If we allow thuggery to define the movement, then we surrender the moral high ground to those who manipulate fear. But if we insist on peace, discipline and dignity, we can expose the cynicism of those who seek to exploit chaos for political ends.
The Philippines stands at a delicate juncture. On Sept. 21, we saw both the best and worst of protests. One path points toward peaceful resistance, echoing the proud legacy of EDSA. The other leads to violence, parody and manipulation, echoing the cynicism of political opportunists. The choice is ours. We must make it wisely.
Disclosure: I am a professor at the University of the Philippines Los Baños and vice chairman of the board of state-run PTV Network, Inc.
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