IF survival and self-preservation is first nature to all, one wonders why some people willingly walk into the proverbial lion’s den.
By now, the whole nation must be familiar with the cases of Horacio “Atio” Castillo III, Guillo Servando before him, and even Gonzalo Albert. Of course, there were those who came in between—they are also testaments to something bigger: People are still willing to risk life and limb for “brotherhood.”
Atio’s father and namesake remembers him as “a good son, a perfect son, the best son any parent could ever have”, as he was laid to rest on September 27, 10 days after he was pronounced dead on arrival at the Chinese General Hospital, the last place his parents expected to see him again. He suffered hematoma in both upper arms, while bruises and drips of candle were seen on different parts of his body.
“We are no different from other parents. We live our lives for our children, wishing to always shield them from harm, to shelter [them] from injustice. We will forever be tormented that the Aegis Juris Fraternity invited our son, only to treat him like an animal,” Atio’s father said in a Senate hearing on his son’s death.
The elder Horacio will have to live with many unanswered questions now that his son is no longer around to explain. Did he know there was hazing in the Aegis Juris initiation process? What about the fraternity that convinced him it was worth risking one’s life for? Is their family’s love not enough that he’d suffer to be part of a new one?
Craving
By any stroke of luck, some who went through the same thing as Atio did live to tell the tale, though. They may have the answers.
“It’s not that I found my family’s love lacking. I was just craving for companionship since I was living in a dormitory on campus. I don’t have constant companions,” said Steph Hidalgo, an alumna of the University of the Philippines (UP) Sigma Alpha Sorority.
Hidalgo confirmed that the sorority ended up fulfilling her need for companionship and a family away from home, but it was not without any doubts, especially at the beginning of the process. She said she was on the fence as to the promise that there would be no physical initiation at whatever point in the process. But she confirmed something was bigger than this doubt—her trust in the resident who recruited her, Nicolyn Angelica Sese, now serving as the sorority’s prime sister exemplar or chairman.
“I know there was a possibility that they could be lying, like other sororities who lie and say they don’t practice hazing when they really do. I still chose to believe, however, because first, I trust Nicolyn, and second, it was included in the sorority’s constitution that physical initiation is not an allowed practice. I knew I could file a serious case against them if it turns out that they lied,” Hidalgo said.
They did not lie.
“Until the very end, I was never hurt. This sorority proved to me that violence is not necessary for a strong and meaningful sisterhood. They were there for me when I needed them, and they really felt like family to me,” she said.
Another student of the University of the Philippines belonging to a different sorority also emphasized trust in the resident-members as a driving force that made her go through with the initiation process.
Unlike Hidalgo, whose trust helped her believe that she would not be harmed, though, Gome’s trust helped her prepare for what was to come ahead. It helped her believe she could survive every hit. It helped her believe she’d be able to see her family once more, attend classes once more, and look herself in the mirror once more. See, from the get-go, she knew there was hazing in the organization she was joining.
“I was scared, of course, but I believed I could do it, since others were able to do it. If the resident-sisters all survived, there’s no reason why I couldn’t. I also trusted that they wouldn’t do anything excessive,” Gome said.
She also explained how she was against hazing for hazing’s sake and tradition for tradition’s sake, but she is not totally against violent initiation rites if there is a deep meaning behind it.
“Our initiation process was linked to the struggles of the oppressed masses. Every part of the process was used to symbolize the daily hardships of workers and peasants. They wanted us to understand oppression by letting us experience it, so that we may collectively fight against it after the process,” Gome explained.
‘Benefits’
JAY-EM, 21, a senior member of a prominent fraternity in UP, also knew he’d be subjected to physical initiation in his quest to be a “brod.” He just figured the benefits outweighed the risks, even though the risks involved probable death.
“I joined because I knew the benefits later in life will accrue to my advantage. you can be brilliant and successful without a fraternity, but fraternities afford security and network that don’t come as easily to the unaffiliated,” he said.
Bruised and scarred, he definitely felt the day of his induction to the fraternity would be his last. Not once did he feel that it wasn’t justified, though.
“They’d tell you about how everyone has gone through the same. They’d also say that those who joined during the years of martial law up to the early 2000s went through greater hell getting in; that compared to those years, today’s rite is merely a slap on the wrist,” Jay-em said.
He also does not believe his own, or any fraternity for that matter, could be great without an initiation that inflicts pain to its neophytes.
“Fraternities with little to no physicals tend to have less quality brods. In the years of the Commonwealth, the Japanese occupation, and then the martial-law years, physicals and the gauntlet were used to weed out enemy spies. It was a test of character and solidarity for those taking the initiation as a group, and then as a mark of authenticity that the latterday members may use to bond with the old. Sure, it’s not the end-all-be-all, but the first step in building a genuine relationship of taking your side, right or wrong,” he said.
As a legal practitioner, Jay-em also has things to say about the case of Atio and the Aegis Juris Fraternity.
He said the weight of the threat of Atio’s uncle that his death also means the death for Aegis Juris Fraternity depends on how strong (in terms of bond) and how powerful (in terms of positions and connections the fraternity has) they are.
“If you look at a list of cases in the past where neophytes died during initiation, you will find a lot of names and a lot of fraternities even after the passage of the anti-hazing law,” Jay-em said.
He went on to explain that the true test of how powerful a fraternity is would be how its members managed to walk after an incident like this.
“It will not be legal evidence that would put these kids behind bars. It would be the loosening of bonds that will be their undoing. When the alumni think twice about supporting their brods in need, the young blood loses faith in the frat. That fraternity will weaken and finally lose its power to break the law with impunity. When that happens, it’s time to face the prison bars for life—time for that brotherhood to die,” he said.
Jay-em’s own fraternity has faced this same predicament.
“A man was killed in one of the initiation rites my fraternity held a few years back, and no members were ever imprisoned. All graduated; most are successful practicing lawyers now. There wasn’t a lack of evidence against them, but those who partook in the hazing all walked. A fraternity that could make these miracles is a fraternity worth devoting your time and even risking your life for,” he explained.
For Jay-em and many others, real and meaningful brotherhood comes at a price one’s got to be willing to pay. Unfortunately for Atio, the boy who never became a lawyer, never became a chief justice, never fully became a “brod,” there’s no way of knowing now if it all would have been worth it.