I cannot think of a tactical alliance with the Left because I

Host: The early morning sun filtered weakly through the heavy curtains, casting faint shadows across the room. Outside, the city seemed to wake slowly, the hum of traffic faint but ever-present. Jack sat at the old wooden desk, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge. He stared at the empty coffee cup in front of him, the steam now a faint trace in the air, as if it too had surrendered to the quiet of the room. Jeeny, standing by the window, looked out over the city, her gaze distant, almost lost in thought.

Jeeny: “Corazon Aquino once said, ‘I cannot think of a tactical alliance with the Left because I represent the idea that there is a peaceful, nonviolent way to dislodge a dictatorship. A tactical Left alliance damages my argument. If I succeed with them, we will never know if peace can really produce freedom.’”

Jack: He sighs, his voice low and cynical. “So, she believed that peace could overcome a dictatorship? That’s idealistic, even naïve. Do you really think peace is enough to overthrow a system like that?”

Jeeny: Her voice is gentle but steady. “She believed that violence breeds only more violence. She believed in the power of peaceful resistance, of people uniting without bloodshed. That’s what made her different. That’s why she’s remembered.”

Host: Jeeny’s words hang in the air, each one like a delicate thread of conviction, but Jack isn’t so easily swayed. He leans back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders visible as he processes her thoughts.

Jack: “But sometimes, Jeeny, peace doesn’t move the wheels of history. Dictatorships don’t fall because people are peaceful. They fall because someone forces them to. Look at what happened during the Philippine Revolution. It wasn’t just peaceful marches that did it. It was confrontation, the willingness to risk everything. People died for that.”

Jeeny: “And how many lives were lost, Jack? How many families were destroyed because of the violence that followed those confrontations? The bloodshed doesn't always bring freedom. Sometimes it just leaves scars that never heal.”

Host: The room grows quieter, the air thick with the weight of the conversation. Jeeny’s stance remains calm, but there is a fire in her eyes, a deep conviction. Jack’s gaze never wavers, though a slight flicker of doubt seems to cross his mind. The tension between their perspectives grows, like a storm cloud on the horizon.

Jack: “But what if you don’t have a choice? What if a dictatorship is so entrenched that only force can challenge it? A nonviolent approach may sound nice, but what if it’s just wishful thinking?”

Jeeny: “Maybe it’s about building something more than just resistance, Jack. Maybe it’s about creating a movement that doesn’t need to rely on violence to be strong. What if peace was the strongest weapon we have?”

Host: Jack stands up, pacing for a moment, his thoughts racing. The sound of his footsteps on the floor echoes in the quiet room, as if he’s trying to outpace his own frustration. Jeeny watches him, waiting, calm but unwavering in her beliefs.

Jack: “Peace is fine in theory, Jeeny. But it doesn’t defeat a dictator. What if Aquino’s idea isn’t realistic? What if her belief in peace was idealistic, like a dream that doesn’t stand up to the reality of oppression?”

Jeeny: “And what if you’re wrong, Jack? What if peace is the only true path to freedom? What if we’re just too scared to trust it?”

Host: The room seems to shrink as the disagreement tightens around them. Jack stops pacing and looks at Jeeny, his expression hard, yet his eyes betray something softer — a hesitation.

Jack: “I’m not saying that peace doesn’t have a place. But you can’t ignore the reality of what happens when a regime is in power for so long. Look at Gandhi and his movement. He achieved a lot through nonviolence, but even he had to face confrontation. Peace doesn’t always get the job done.”

Jeeny: “Gandhi didn’t see his movement as just about nonviolence. It was about transforming the heart of the people, about creating a new way of thinking, a new way of living. It wasn’t about fighting violence with more violence. It was about showing that freedom could be achieved through unity and resilience, not just by defeating the enemy.”

Host: The rain begins to fall softly outside, the rhythmic sound tapping against the window. Jack’s shoulders tense, and he runs a hand through his hair, clearly torn. Jeeny doesn’t say anything, but her gaze softens, as if waiting for him to see the truth in her words. The tension in the room feels almost tangible, like a wire pulled too tight.

Jack: “I get what you’re saying. But sometimes, the sacrifices you make in the name of peace are too high. What if it’s not just about winning — but about surviving?”

Jeeny: “And what if you don’t survive, Jack? What if you live in a world where violence is the norm, and peace is never given a chance? What kind of world is that?”

Host: Jack and Jeeny stand there, their words lingering between them, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts. The world outside continues on, indifferent to the battle within the room, yet the quiet tension that has been building finally begins to ease, just a little. Jack’s expression softens, and he looks at Jeeny, a hint of understanding in his eyes.

Jack: “I’m not sure, Jeeny. I’m just not sure that peace is enough.”

Jeeny: She smiles, soft and understanding, as if she’s heard his doubt and recognized it for what it is — a reflection of the struggle in his own heart.

Jeeny: “Maybe we’ll never know until we try. But peace gives us a chance to choose our path, rather than have it forced on us. And sometimes, that is enough.”

Host: The rain stops, leaving only the soft scent of the earth in the air. The morning light filters through the window, casting a gentle glow on the two of them. Jack and Jeeny stand in silence, the rift between them still present, but now softened, as if a shared understanding has begun to form — fragile but real.