IN English, the Tagalog words "la lang" or "'la lang" (short for "wala lang") means "just . . . nothing" or "just for nothing." Which, as an accompanying text to this cartoon post on Facebook by cartoonist DengCoy Miel, could be read to mean "got nothing better to do, so just drew this to echo some sentiments out there hehehe." Or something like that.
    By his record as both a political cartoonist and a Facebook frequenter with public posts, no one can say that Miel was being cowardly here. His use of "la lang" in this political cartoon could be said to be somewhat like radio and TV talk show hosts' recurrent use of the idiom that goes, "bato-bato sa langit, ang tamaan huwag magalit" (rocks raining down from the sky, whoever is hit must not get angry). Note that such use of that idiom by a broadcaster would often come after a brave criticism of a powerful person's or group's actions or decision or words, which criticism would also elicit tension among listeners who might be fearful on the broadcaster's behalf of some form of retribution.
    So, though there might be a bit of manufacturing of distance in the use of the "la lang" or "bato-bato..." or "pasensiya na po, pero" (I'm sorry, but) or something else similar, one cannot say that these are utterances of cowardice, given that cowardice would simply avoid being critical of anything at all. One can say, therefore, that the use of "la lang," as well as the "bato-bato sa langit . . .," in a political commentary would be somewhat synonymous to a critic's resort to parody or satire, which genres both aim to be seriously critical as well as humorous. We are not much into psychology to posit a conclusion as to why citizens would want to be both serious and humorous at the same time during their criticism of something or someone (is it from being half-afraid of retribution?), but one thing for sure, aesthetics-wise, the serious-humorous combination renders the object of the criticism as totally ridiculous.
    So now let's talk about the cartoon itself.
    We actually all know what it is alluding to: the symbolic unilateral termination by the Department of National Defense of the 1989 UP-DND accord. We say symbolic, for that accord would actually not have prevented the Duterte government, with its rightist penchant for interpreting laws and agreements according to some alleged principle or other, from entering the UP campus anytime. And, in fact, many a UP alumnus have been successfully arrested or killed under the Duterte regime without the need to enter the campus.
    Then again, perhaps the objective, beyond symbolism, is to give access to units, such as those from the not-so-youthful Duterte Youth organization, to enter campus grounds for the purpose of expanding the government's ongoing (unofficial?) surveillance and red-baiting program. That seemingly transparent militarist agenda is what Miel's cartoon is suggesting, particularly the government's alleged desire to militarize campuses.
    But we would still insist that even such access and consequent presence that would accrue from the said accord's termination would still be symbolic. How? Consider this:
    Okay, Miel's cartoon paints the UP Oblation statue in military camouflage. Now, remember that the green camouflage was invented to camouflage soldiers' presence in a jungle. During the pandemic lockdown, the government ordered members of the Philippine National Police to change to PNP jungle camouflage uniforms during their implementation of the lockdown in the city jungle. Which was funny, given that the city jungle's mostly grey color rendered the green camouflage more visible than not. Here, the context of the camouflage was obviously changed.
    The same thing happened with the UP-DND accord's termination. Access by and presence of military or paramilitary elements on campus is there not with the interest of apprehending more supposed would-be communists, for the simple reason that that objective can best be achieved via some real camouflage, e.g., the colorless camouflage carried by undercover "penetration agents."
    Nah. The desire to give access to paramilitary elements in the UP campus (remember that the UP chapter of the Philippine Guardians Brotherhood have long been in existence on campus) is there not to put more eyes on student recruitment of activists (which recruitment, by the way, could be done [and have been done] on and off campus), but is being advanced in the same way that the Philippine war on drugs was announced (like announcing to laundry thieves that barangay tanods will start roaming the barangay neighborhoods from 6-12 pm) without any drug lord or cartel named as the war's ultimate targets.
    And that is why Miel's cartoon is rich. Even though the UP at Diliman campus has the appearance of a jungle, the DND's implied announcement that it would henceforth be sending in paramilitary presences inside the UP system's campuses has all the makings of a de-camouflaged camouflage.
    It's as if the DND is merely trying to accommodate a stupid American red-baiting request that it knows cannot succeed outside of silence, and so is resorting to loud things that are merely for show. Or perhaps it's doing that out of confusion, given that the Duterte regime prides itself with being a friend of the Chinese Communist Party.
    The only way by which this militarization of campus environments can be taken seriously (and not la lang) is if there had been a request that came not from the United States of America but from China, who may be eyeing the Philippine nationalist left as the armed enemy of its newfound internationalism.