The Filipino people have long been chained to food chains—their doors open as long as the world's awake, their hands never running out of mouths to feed. When the prices to pay for these meals are innocent lives, it’s not surprising for one to find that they're served alongside a plentiful serving of guilt. What's surprising, however, is how easily we are able to digest this. This leaves us in a state of questioning:

Is it really that hard to just eat somewhere else that we'd rather swallow bloodstained meals and just live with the guilt and apathy? Is the idea of eating somewhere else truly so controversial that we can't even digest it, let alone try?

Seeing as our feet are too preoccupied with standing in line for these places and our mouths hooked on justifying why we’re there, you could say so, especially since the boycott—like every other world issue, is rendered more complicated by the fact that we live here, in the Philippines.

While Israel's ongoing war on Palestine is a clear-cut case of genocide, its black-and-white technicalities don’t seem to be as strikingly reflected in the movement that the Palestinian-led Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) has launched since 2005—within the Philippine lens, that is. The fact that the boycott covers a lot—economic, social, and political factors, it can get overwhelming and clashing, making it appear "hypocritical," "ineffective," and "selective," among many other dismissive descriptors that have been thrown at it during the discourse. Once these intricate layers are peeled off, however, it shows the boycott movement for what it truly is at its core: a sacrificial, defiant, and humane act of trying.

A defiance, of course, cannot be complete if not borne out of a collective, which is exactly the root of why it is thought to be ineffective. This crippling hesitance and disregard to join in the movement hinges on the concern for a myriad of factors that, albeit genuine, one will soon find to be misplaced.

One of these factors is the welfare of the labor force. Within the interiors of McDonald's Philippines, workers of all walks and ages give their services to earn a living. Its exteriors, however, are met with an intensified international clamor to never avail of these services, thus posing a threat to the workers who provide them. This comes after McDonald's Israel offered free meals to Israeli soldiers and hospitals, inciting rage and disappointment towards their involvement in the occupation. We are thus placed at a crossroads: do we boycott for the sake of Palestine, or do we consume for the sake of the Philippines?

There is, of course, a way to reconcile both, which will only reveal itself once we know the true goal of the boycott: it is not to close down these places, but to put pressure on them to side with the good. Case in point, we have, among others,  franchises from Turkey, Egypt, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia that have distanced themselves from their Israeli counterparts and donated money to Gaza—some right away, some due to pressure. What's stopping McDonald's Philippines from doing this? Once our collective garners enough of this momentum, this sends a message not just to them, but also to other companies—that support for Palestine is where the money lies. We'll have therefore obtained our goals, none of which, by the way, is to ever have their workers laid off. We must stand with them as we do with Palestinians, by unionizing and demanding better working conditions and wages. But if anything were to happen to them, God forbid, there's nothing and no one to blame except for the corporations themselves, and their lamentable self-serving neutrality.

Intertwined with this are similar concerns regarding the working class and the economy. Against the backdrop of domineering corporate giants lie the humble yet eclectic carenderia and local businesses, whose doors, sadly, are comparably less frequented by the public. Despite offering the same goods for lower prices yet arguably better quality, some people would rather opt for the overly expensive high-end places, even if they're part of the boycott list.

This is what I don't get. This is what I find equal parts unfortunate and ridiculous. This is what I don't bother sympathizing with, for it's clear that these people themselves don’t bother sympathizing with Palestinians at all. If you can afford the overpriced and are truly concerned with the working class, then surely you can afford to support local businesses that aren't affiliated with genocide. Or maybe your individualistic self's too far up that order of Starbs to even start caring about the starved? I'll leave you to contemplate on that.

But in a hasty attempt to retaliate, you bring out the hypocrisy and selectiveness card. I volunteer as an example. I am writing this article in a file on Google Docs. Google is included in the BDS list of pressure targets, and yet I am using it.  Does this make me, and every other Google user for that matter, a hypocrite?

By that logic, all of us are hypocrites, for so much of the things we consume are sourced from the exploitation of mankind and materials. But to boycott is to try. To boycott is to turn these things against itself, against their evil, tragic sources, and use them for the greater good. To boycott is to wield power for the powerless—by writing things like this, by spreading awareness any way you know how, by simply trying.

Trying starts by trusting in its power. But if the movement is plagued with the pervasive mist of mistrust that negatively impacts any effort we exert, surely nothing will move at all. Nonetheless, this doubt, however it may loom, is easily vanquished by a steadfast confidence that anchors itself in the study of how boycotts have worked throughout history.

The BDS Movement itself is anchored in this very history, as it takes inspiration from the South African anti-apartheid movement, wherein individuals, governments, and companies alike refused to have anything to do with the then racially segregated country, eventually causing it a massive all-around loss. Needless to say, the boycotts and sanctions succeeded, just as we Filipinos did back then, as a matter of fact. The 1986 snap elections almost saw Former President Ferdinand Marcos Sr. reclaim his presidency, but was stopped in his tracks by the civil disobedience initiated by Former President Corazon Aquino, which included the boycott of Marcos-owned and -backed media, banks, and institutions. This movement eventually led to the momentous ousting of an insidious dictator.

Now that we know how we've done it for the Philippines, can't we do it for Palestine as well? Or would that still be hard for us?

I'm here to tell you now, bluntly as it may, that it shouldn’t be. Missing your favorite drink whose name you can't even pronounce is nothing compared to the pains of that war-beaten child in Gaza, who's had to livestream his tragedies more times than you've ever had to vlog your coffee dates. Sacrifice it. You'll live, while the Palestinian child has no choice but to survive.

So when you face those doors and choose to enter with an unfazed apathy, read this once again. When you feel a pang of guilt as you’re about to approach the counter, you’re halfway there. When you’re free from the guilt because you chose to turn back and leave, you’re here with us. So stay. 

Stay with us in fighting for all Palestinians. Stay with us in fighting against the entities that fuel the war eager to decimate them. Boycott, defy, sacrifice, spread the word as you must, but most of all, try. To be human is to have lapses in your judgment, but just make up for it and try. To try is the best way to practice your humanity. To try is to hold out hope for those who need it. To try is the most radical thing you can do. 

So, do it. Do it from the river to the sea. Do it so that Palestine shall be free.