By SARAH RAYMUNDO

For a couple of weeks now, I have been working closely with Kerima Lorena Tariman, a cultural activist since the late ‘90s. She has published poems and other literary works in various anthologies, and was the founding chairperson of cultural organization Kabataang Artista para sa Tunay na Kalayaan in 2000.

In the same year, Kerima was arrested and detained while she was managing editor of the Philippine Collegian. While imprisonment and torture are no longer alien to her, she will never be accustomed to her husband, cultural worker Ericson Acosta’s situation in prison.

My work with Ericson began when we were convenors of the Student Alliance for the Advancement of Democratic in Rights in UP (STAND UP). Our goal to organize different student organizations into a political party was difficult, to say the least. It is very humbling to see how activists of the different organizations under STAND UP are now at the forefront of the struggle against budget cuts and all forms of repression.

On February 13, Ericson was arrested in Western Samar and has since become a political prisoner.

This conversation is the result of our initial plan to draft a statement for a press conference and cultural activity to be organized by the All UP Academic Employees Union (AUPAEU) and the Free Ericson Acosta Campaign to be held this February 10, 11:30-1:00pm at the Palma Hall lobby, UP Diliman.­ 

Political involvement is a defining feature of the march toward progress. It is alarming how the government assumes sovereign prerogative to detain social activists and label them terrorists. The prospects of promoting genuine respect for human rights are thoroughly imperiled by the lawlessness of legitimate power.

The fight for freedom is foreclosed when there are more than 350 political prisoners unjustly detained. Meanwhile, the Aquino government claims change and righteousness while it remains loyal to the dictates of foreign interests. Ericson has remained steadfast in his political work even behind bars. Beyond this lies our people’s infinite potential for ushering in a new order.

On UP and Activism 

Sarah Raymundo (SR): Is there any experience from our undergraduate days in UP that resonates with your current undertakings? 

Kerima Tariman (KT): When I entered UP, I was particularly struck by the determination of young radicals to establish a broad alliance of mass organizations under the banner of National Democracy (ND). As you know, it was a very challenging period. National democrats were not very popular. With the split in the student movement, the ND line was severely being discredited at the time.

SR: I distinctly remember that newbies of this period joined the movement as walk-ins. Small numbers of activists stake their claims at the tambayans between the Faculty Center and Palma Hall. That specific area was a space for educational discussion-jamming, and those who were curious enough would gravitate around mojo sandal-wearing activists who sang and talked about lingering social ills.

KT: True. It was their persistence under conditions of marginalization and stigma that hit me. Looking back, if the young activists then succumbed to populism, I would have had a different view of the necessary connection between the Iskolar ng Bayan and the basic masses. I personally would have not survived my ordeal in 2000 if not for the commitment instilled upon us back then. 

SR: I have come to appreciate that commitment as a way of deriving a whole regime of consequences from the First Quarter Storm of the 1970s and the great challenges that shook the movement in the 1980s. It is an endeavor to provide consistency to the practicable truth of the revolution amidst declarations of its failure. This commitment means to proceed with the intention to rectify—a reminder of the need to always begin anew and not merely continue. However, I clearly recall a time when certain figures in the University called this dogmatism, even naiveté. We called it remoulding and hoped that we would never get old.

KT: We got old?

SR: (Laughter) Of course! How did you reconcile these vile insinuations with your stakes as an artist? We know how the gatekeepers in the arts tend to disavow anything "political."

KT: I’ve been exposed to state-sponsored art forms since I was a kid. The Cultural Center of the Philippines—where my father served as an employee in the 80s—became, by default, a playground for me and my two sisters. I went to a state-run high school for the arts. This background has actually made it easier for me to see how art is utilized politically, wittingly or unwittingly. But I view the movement as the only venue for me to understand art in theory and in actual practice.

SR: Even the Art for art’s sake movement was a bold claim against feudalism. Nothing can be more political than a claim to autonomy at a time when art was being dwarfed by feudal patronage. That this claim has been diluted and de-historicized is a stumbling block to understanding art as a form of labor.

KT: When one creates art without being apologetic about its political implications, one is actually being quite ethical. Concretely, one is defining her position between reaction and revolution.

SR: I have always noted the bluntness in your poetry.

KT: Poetry is something that I share with my husband. But I feel we have come to go beyond poetry on account of Maoist aesthetics.

On Imprisonment and State Repression

SR: Your arrest in 2000 created a stir in the cultural scene. But what really shocked me was a feature article by your father (Pablo Tariman) in the Inquirer … there was a picture of a 3-year-old ballerina who went to ballet school with the Marcos couple’s youngest daughter. You never told me about those ballet lessons. But seriously, I was shocked that someone close to me can actually be held in prison for doing what we are all supposed to do as scholars who claim to serve the people. What do you recall of that time?

KT: I was in Isabela on a Basic Masses Integration program. I was only hoping to gain better understanding of the peasant situation in that area. I was all the while keeping an open mind despite petty inconveniences. Of course imprisonment was such a remote idea. But the whole experience, from living with the peasants to my arrest and detention, is an indispensable lesson on the reality of class struggle.

SR: It was indeed an unmistakable validation of the instrumental role of the State in the violent suppression inflicted on peasants and their advocates. My initial shock was followed by a need to forge stronger ties with fellow activists across sectors.

KT: Interestingly, even non-activists came through for me. I observe the same now in our campaign to free Ericson. Not all of our supporters share the same advocacy for national democracy. But I appreciate their recognition of the role of activists and their respect for human rights.

SR: Extra-judicial killings and forced disappearances have mainly targeted organized peasants. Can you tell us how those who have decided to align themselves with the peasant struggle fall victim to state fascism?

KT: At the time of his arrest, Ericson was a volunteer researcher for KAPAWA, a local peasant organization in Western Samar. He wrote articles and reports on large-scale foreign mining and human rights violations. Like most cases of illegal arrests, Ericson has been made to appear like a terrorist, what with trumped-up criminal charges and tedious legal processes that have only delayed the delivery of justice.

SR: What do you think is he missing now?

KT: Aside from monitoring the progress of our son’s two front teeth, he is also being deprived of other simple joys. And I am not even talking about seeing movies or splurging on ice cream. Our work as peasant advocates has altered our preferences and lifestyle. I realized this about us when I read his prison diary entries that poignantly depict his yearning for sky and sea. ●

Sarah Raymundo is the director of the UP Diliman Center for International Studies and a member of the national executive board of the Alliance of Concerned Teachers. Kerima Lorena Tariman is a writer and revolutionary who served as the Kultura and managing editor of this publication from 1999 to 2000. At the time of this interview, Tariman was campaigning for the release of her husband, Ericson Acosta, a fellow writer and activist who also served as the Kultura editor of the Collegian. Acosta was unjustly detained and tortured by the military in February 2011.

The Apolinario Gatmaitan Command of the New People’s Army released a statement on August 20, 2021 confirming the death of Kerima Lorena “Ka Ella” Tariman, along with a Ka Pabling, in an encounter with the 79th Infantry Battalion of the Philippine Army in Silay, Negros Occidental.

This interview was first published in print in the Collegian’s February 8, 2012 issue.