For every stone, a hero

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

What a great show of protest! Last Sunday, protestors (#bawatbato movement) of the planned burial of the dictator Ferdinand Marcos, almost three decades dead, at the Libingan ng mga Bayani trooped to the site supposedly reserved for him. There, one by one, they placed stones with the names of individual heroes and martyrs who lived and died fighting for the restoration of freedom.

They were in the thousands, these heroes and martyrs, known and unknown: farmers, workers, writers, lawyers, priests, nuns, bishops, teachers, health workers, students, politicians, public servants, intellectuals, men and women who took up arms. Many of their names are etched on the granite Wall of Remembrance at the Bantayog ng mga Bayani in Quezon City. As my own act of protest, I list here the names of the 268 (as of 2015) on The Wall, even as more will be added in the coming years.

ACEBEDO, Norberto H. Jr. ACEBEDO, Roy Lorenzo H. AGATEP, Zacarias AGUILAR, Zorro C. AGUIRRE, Danilo M. ALCANTARA, Jose ALEGRE, William D. ALEJANDRO, Leandro L. ALINGAL, Godofredo B. ALTO, Leo C. ALVAREZ, Amada E. ALVAREZ, Emmanuel I. ALVAREZ, Marsman T. AMATONG, Jacobo S. ANDAL, Reynante C. ANDRES, Trifonio AQUINO, Benigno S. Jr. AQUINO, Corazon C. AQUINO, Jeremias A. ARCE, Merardo T. ARCE, Santiago ARCEO, Ferdinand M. ARIADO, Antonio G. ARMEA, Juliet C. ASUNCION, Filomena G. ATIENZA, Monico M. BAES, Aloysius U. BALANDO, Elsa BALCE, Floro E. BARROS, Ma. Lorena M. BAUTISTA, Manuel C. BEGG, William Vincent A. BELONE, Alexander A. BELORIA, Vicente L. BELTRAN, Crispin BERNARDO, Pepito V. BLAS, Catalino D. BONTIA, Evella V. BORLONGAN, Edwin G. BROCKA, Catalino O. BUCAG, Renato L. BUENO, David T. BUGAY, Amado G. BURGOS, Jose G. Jr. CABARUBIAS, Tranquilino CABRERA, Claro CAILING, Crisostomo CALDERON, Jose R., Jr.CALIXTO, Leopoldo Y., Jr. CARIÑO, Jennifer K. CASTRO, Rolando M. CATALLA, Cristina F. CELESTIAL, Artemio S., Jr. CHECA, Jorge CHUA, William T. CHUIDIAN, Mary Consuelo CLARETE, Ronillo Noel M. CLIMACO, Cesar CONCEPCION, Roberto R. CONSTANTINO, Renato CONTI, Mary Concepcion CORTES, Ellecer E. CORTEZ, Delia R. CRISMO, Romeo G. CUPINO, Edgardo R. DAPOG, Eliseo G. DAYANAN, Michael DE GUZMAN, Lucio P. DE JESUS, Jeremias S. DEHERAN, Pepito L. DEL ROSARIO, Carlos B. DEL ROSARIO, Nimfa B. DELA FUENTE, Edward L. DELA PAZ, Remberto DEMIGILIO, Rodney A. DEVERATURDA, Dennis Rolando R. DIMARANAN, Mariani C., SFIC DINGCONG, Demosthenes DIOKNO, Jose W. DOMINGO, Silme G. DULAG, Macli’ing DUNGOC, Pedro Sr. ENRIQUEZ, Albert R. ESCANDOR, Juan B. ESPERON, Fernando T. ESPINAS, Alberto T. EVANGELIO, Ronilo T. FAUSTINO, Gerardo T. FAVALI, Tullio FEDERIS, Rolando M. FERNANDEZ, Jesus F. FERNANDEZ, Resteta A. FLORES, Ceferino A. Jr. FORTICH, Antonio Y. FRANCISCO, Oscar D. FRANCO, Rovena T. GABRIEL, Luis I. GALACE, Arthur E. GALANG-REYES, Rosalinda GARCIA, Enrique Voltaire R., Jr. GARDUCE-LAGMAN, Lourdes GAVANZO, Ceasar Jr. GILLEGO, Bonifacio H. GLOR, Melito T. GONZAGA, Mary Virginia GONZALES, Nicanor R., Jr. GREY, Eugene C. GUEVARRA, Rogelio HICARO, Cesar E. HILAO, Liliosa, R. HILARIO, Antonio M. HIZON, Manuel L. Jr. HOLLERO, Manolo J. ILAGAN, Laurente C. ILAGAN, Rizalina P. IPONG, Inocencio T. JALLORES, Romulo JARAVELLO, Juvelyn JASUL, Alfredo V. JASUL, Ramon V. JAVIER, Evelio B. JIMENEZ, Ester M. JIMENEZ, Mary Bernard JOPSON, Edgar Gil M. JUCO, Estelita G. LABATOS, Alex D. LACABA, Emmanuel F. LACBAO, Ernesto D. LADLAD, Ma. Leticia Pascual LAGARTEJA, Elmer LAGMAN, Hermon C. LAGUERDER, Edwin C. LANDRITO, Vergel E. LANSANG, Lorenzo C. LANZONA, Eduardo E. LAPE, Angelina M. LAURELLA, Francisco C. LAZO, Emmanuel L. LEAÑO, Salvador F. LEGISLADOR, Edmundo R. LINGAD, Jose B. LLORENTE, Teresita E. LOCANILAO, Norberto S. LONTOK, Bayani P. LOPEZ, Mariano M. LORCA, Napoleon P. LORCA, Rolando P. LORETO, Mary Catherine LUCMAN, Haroun Al Rashid LUNAS, Ruben M. MAGLANTAY, Rizaldy Jesus M. MAGPANTAY, Aurelio D. MAHINAY, Julieto MAHINAY, Rodolfo C. MALAY, Armando J. MALAY, Paula Carolina S. MALICAY, Alfredo L. MANAOG, Rodelo Z. MANGLAPUS, Raul S. MANIMBO, Renato T. MARCOS, Ma. Violeta AMP MARTINEZ, Asuncion C., ICM MEDINA, Constantino R. MEGALLEN, Rogelio S., Jr. MENDOZA, Alfredo L. MENDOZA, Armando L. MERCADO, La Verne D. MESINA, Pastor R. MIJARES, Antonio S. MIRABUENO, Vicente A. MOLINTAS, Wright M. Jr. MONARES, Claro S. MONDEJAR, Ma. Luz U. MONTEALTO, Rodolfo T. MORALES, Horacio R., Jr. MORALES, Nicasio M. MORALES, Rogelio C. MORDENO, Rodrigo MUÑOZ-PALMA, Cecilia OBISPO, Immanuel M. OLALIA, Felixberto Sr. OLALIA, Rolando M. OLIVAR, Mateo ONGPIN, Jaime V. ONTONG, Manuel F. ORCULLO, Alexander L. ORDONEZ, Sedfrey A. ORNOPIA, Aniano C. OROT, Nenita T. ORTIGAS, Gaston Z. ORTIGAS, Virgil M. ORTIZ, Pacifico A., S.J. OSORIO, Magnifico L. PADUANO, Joji S. PALABAY, Armando D. PALABAY, Romulo D. PAR, Ma. Socorro B. PASETES, Benedicto M. PASTOR, Fernando T., Sr. PEDRO, Purificacion A. PEÑA, Jacinto D. PEREZ, Dante D. PESQUESA, Florencio S. PETALCORIN, Raymundo O. PONCE, Rodrigo Jr. PRUDENTE, Nemesio E. PURUGGANAN, Miguel C. QUIMPO, Ishmael F., Jr. QUIMPO, Ronald Jan F. QUINTERO, Eduardo T. RAGRAGIO, Clemente P. RESABAL-KINTANAR Ester RESUS, Arnulfo A. REYES, Cecilio A. REYES, Jose B.L. REYES, Victor D. RIGOS, Cirilo A. ROBLES, Reynaldo L. ROCES, Joaquin P. RODRIGO, Francisco A. ROMANO, Rosaleo B., C.Ss.R. ROQUE, Magtanggol S. ROXAS, Sofronio P. SALAC, Roberto C.SALES, Jessica M. SALILI, Edgardo G. SALVADOR, Soledad N. SANCHEZ, Augusto S. SANTOS, Antero G. SARMIENTO, Abraham P., Jr. SILVA, Lazaro P. SIN, Jaime L. Cardinal SISON, Modesto C. SISON, Teresito D. SOLANA, Nicolas M., Jr. STA. ANA, Ronilo J. SUAREZ, Juanito S., Jr. SUMILANG, Michael J. SUYAT, Benjamen TACA, Arturo M. TAGAMOLILA, Antonio S. TAGAMOLILA, Crispin S. TAN, Manuel L. TAN, Mary Christine L., R.G.S. TAÑADA, Lorenzo M. TAOJO, Romraflo S. TAYAG, Carlos N. TEEHANKEE, Claudio TEJONES, Caesar T. TIERRA, Noel C. TIGLAO, Raquel A. Edralin TORRES, Alex G. TORRES, Amanteflor A. UMALI, Ysmael G. VALCOS, Danilo C., Jr. VALENZUELA, Teofilo B. VALERIO, Nilo Christopher Jr. VELEZ, Jose Mari U. VIERNES, Gene A. VILLACILLO, Venerando VILLANUEVA, Marcelino M. VYTIACO, Ma. Antonia Teresa V. YAP, Emmanuel D.R. YBAÑEZ, Rolan Y. YORAC, Haydee B. YUYITUNG, Quintin G. YUYITUNG, Rizal C.K. ZALDIVAR, Calixto O. #

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Pinoy cultural symbols, expressions, brands

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

Centuries from now, if the book is discovered intact in the aftermath of a planetary cataclysm, its readers, if they are Filipinos, would be amazed at how their forebears lived and expressed themselves, what values they upheld, and what personalities they turned into icons.

But even now, readers of Visitacion de la Torre’s new book, “Filipino Cultural Symbols, Expressions and Brands,” would be able to identify with the subject matter she tackles, be pleased with themselves that they continue to use and practice many of these, and recognize or experience them.

Filipinos living abroad (the hyphenated ones, especially) who still value their roots would find in the book a home, something they can consider part of their lives and use to explain to their obdurate young: This is why we are what we are. For us who remain in the homeland, this book is also a reminder. It cannot explain everything exhaustively, but it can make us think that there are elements and influences at work in our lives that make us what we are, collectively or individually. And be proud of them.

As the author explains, “the book provides another texture of the Filipino identity—the images that point to or reveal diverse facets of the Filipino, the expressions he/she reveals himself/herself in and the brands that have engaged the popular imagination of the Filipino then and now.” The book attempts to contribute to the written, printed materials that have similarly explored the subject matter.

De la Torre classifies the cultural symbols into five: built structures, natural wonders, material objects, travel destinations, and rituals/traditions and personalities. Built structures: Ifugao rice terraces, Vigan, etc. Natural wonders: Boracay, Taal, Mayon, etc. Material objects: jeepney, sarimanok, etc. Food: adobo, pan de sal, balut, halo-halo, Jollibee, etc.

The concepts/expressions she discusses are kapwa, kagandahang loob, barkada, jeproks, diskarte, pusong mamon, bayanihan, etc., to name a few. These expressions that describe values, traits and practices are used in the Tagalog-speaking areas of the Philippines. What a pity that their equivalent in non-Tagalog-speaking provinces—differently nuanced, perhaps—are not mentioned. And surely, there are cultural traits and values—among indigenous communities, for example—that are outside of what we are familiar with and also differently named, like the pagta ti bodong in the Cordillera. Perhaps these can be tackled in another book?

Some of the personalities: Jose Rizal, the Santo Niño, Lola Basyang, Ninoy and Cory Aquino, Dolphy, FPJ, Lea Salonga, Pacquiao. De la Torre does not say how she picked them, whether from a survey or the research results used in a TV game show. Conspicuously absent on the long list are Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos. It is because De la Torre prefers to tackle the positive that the icons she chose embody.

Speaking of Marcos who ruled as dictator for 14 years, he is included in a children’s book (in Spanish) on tyrants and despots that was exhibited at a European book fair. The Philippines’ Marcos, with his prominent coiffure in the caricature, is on the same spread as Stalin, Pol Pot, Mao Zedong, Idi Amin, et al., and on the same line as Hitler. There is no book of this sort here in the Philippines. No wonder many who belong to the younger generation are clueless, stunned witless when they learn for the first time that an uncle was tortured to death during the Marcos dictatorship, or why their grandfather’s body has never been found.

Filipino expressions come and go; many survive generations and many still get invented with every new technology (e.g., unli). De la Torre explains away many, among them Mabuhay, hulog ng langit, siksik liglig, kayod marino, peks man, lukso ng dugo, hindi ka nag-iisa, bahala na, diskarte, Filipino time, utang na loob. Again, these are all Tagalog expressions, some ancient, but withstood the test of time.

As to the Filipino brands, there is the iconic San Miguel, Max’s, Jollibee, Mercury Drug, Original Pilipino Music (OPM), Ginebra, Goldilocks, National Book Store, Philippine Airlines, etc. Ang Tibay, a shoe brand of yore, is still mentioned. SM is on the list, of course, but so are some not-so-familiar brands. OFW and Gawad Kalinga are listed as brands.

De la Torre is a prolific book writer-publisher, a keen observer of the Philippine scene. Most of her books deal with our Filipino-ness and are heavyweights (being coffee-table books), but easy and enjoyable to read. “Filipino Cultural Symbols, Expressions and Brands” is her 39th book.

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The Carl Jung Circle Center, with the participation of Pacifica Graduate Institute, will hold a conference, “Salubungan On Depth Psychology: Our Psyche, Our Earth” (Ang Kwentuhan sa Ilalim ng Punongkahoy) on July 6 and 7 from 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. at Club Filipino in Greenhills, San Juan. The conference aims to bring to a wider public the understanding of depth psychology, an approach to therapy that explores the subtle and unconscious aspects of the human experience. It is a multidisciplinary approach that draws on literature, philosophy, mythology and the arts. Moving toward wholeness is seen as the process of bringing to light what has been unknown in one’s personality—thoughts, feelings, memories, archetypal projections—so that the person can understand and integrate them, allowing for a transformation in consciousness. Depth psychology also looks at the ways the unconscious expresses itself in society and culture, and how culture affects the psyche. For inquiries, call Tin at 0926-6341755. #

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Eruption and exodus, 1991

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

“Binulsa ko na lang ang aking kalungkutan” (I kept my sadness in my pocket).”—Paylot,

Aeta leader It has been 25 years since the grand, world-class eruption of Mt. Pinatubo in June 1991. I remember a Franciscan sister, Sr. Emma Mediavillo, rushing to Manila and coming to my house to tell me about the volcanic rumbling felt by the Aeta community in Sitio Yamot in Poonbato, Botolan, Zambales.

The volcano experts had yet no idea something big was going to happen. But the Aeta were already feeling the earth move under their feet. The Franciscan Missionaries of Mary (FMM) were living among the Aeta at that time. Sister Emma, a science graduate who knew the movements of the earth, was stationed there.

Some years earlier, the FMMs had invited me to stay with them there, share in their life with the Aeta, and see for myself the kind of work they did. The FMMs were just starting their ministry with the Aeta community then. The sisters had to get their water supply from the town proper via a trusty weapons carrier, while the Aeta walked kilometers to wash, bathe and fetch water from a spring.

I still have a photo of a tot named Emily with snot in her nostrils, and a photo of an Aeta mother breastfeeding her child. These were used for my feature story in a national magazine. When I went back to Yamot a few years later, the little village had been transformed; the homes made of native materials looked very neat and well-maintained, with lots of green around. Even the Franciscans’ small nipa house was bursting with wild orchids. The teenagers in G-strings enjoyed playing basketball when they were not in the fields. There were no schools nearby. But this life-sharing between the Franciscan nuns and the Aeta at the foot of the volcano was not to remain for long. 

After a 600-year slumber, Pinatubo erupted and continued to do so for days and weeks, covering the towns of the provinces around it, changing the landscape, darkening the sky and even other parts of Southeast Asia. It was an eruption like no other. I remember returning from a vacation in Baguio the day before the major eruption. Had I not come down on time, I would have been unable to get back to Metro Manila until weeks after as the ash fall in Pampanga was heavy.

At home, I was able to sweep fine ash from the driveway and put it in a jar. I still have it. Yes, the ashfall reached Metro Manila.

A week after the major eruption, I went with some religious sisters to Pampanga and then on to Zambales to look for the nuns and the Aeta community. We found them in San Antonio where they had pitched their tents while planning where to go next and settle permanently. This Aeta community, with the help of the FMMs, was among the most prepared to face the wrath of the volcano. But they did not expect the difficulties they would live through.

The Aeta of Yamot were organized and ready to leave their village long before the residents of towns and villages heeded the warnings. Their evacuation was very orderly. Every time the Aeta moved they carried with them meager belongings and took along farm animals.

As early as April 1991 when Pinatubo started to grumble, they began preparing for the worst. Still, they did not expect the volcano to lay their dreams to waste so swiftly. The Aeta had reached Tomangan when they were caught off-guard by a violent eruption made worse by a raging typhoon. Three people were struck by lightning. At that time the Aeta were already panicky. They poured vinegar on the prostrate victims who, they said, miraculously regained consciousness.

That deadly hour came without warning. The Aeta had no choice but to leave behind the work animals they had taken with them during their evacuation. They untethered the animals so they could run for their lives, in the hope that humans and animals would find one another alive again someday. The Aeta remember their animals’ faces. “We know our animals,” an Aeta leader told me. “We know how they look. I hope they are alive.” As long as no one has stolen or claimed the animals as their own, the Aeta will find them. There were about 20 carabaos let loose.

Ten years before the 1991 eruption, when the nuns, led by Sr. Carmen Balazo, FMM, came for the first time, many of the Aeta were afraid and diffident. But it didn’t take long for the Aeta to welcome the new arrivals. They were impressed that the nuns lived simply in their midst and did not attempt to convert any of them to Christianity. Instead, the nuns taught them how to read and write and not be fooled by anyone, especially by middlemen. They did not start off with ABC. It was “L” for lota (land) and “D” for damowag (carabao). They learned how to compute how much they were cheated on their bananas by scheming traders.

When I spent time there, the nuns had been in the area barely a year but already they had wrought changes in the Aeta’s lives. The key was organizing. At the time of Pinatubo’s eruption, the Aeta of 12 sitios in that area had eight cooperatives. Most of the Aeta in the co-ops belonged to the organization called Lakas (for Lubos na Alyansa ng mga Katutubong Ayta ng Sambales). It was through Lakas that many of the Aeta found a voice. Yamot slowly became a dream village. Until…

The Aeta are now well settled in their new communities in Zambales. Every now and then, I would receive a greeting card from them, with their signatures on it. Accounts of the volcanic eruption and the Aeta evacuation, plus photographs of those times, are in the coffee-table book “Eruption and Exodus,” parts of which the Aeta wrote themselves, and for which I wrote the foreword. #

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May I change the topic?

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

The postelection atmosphere is getting more and more toxic and foul from political, sexual, gender-insensitive and murderous tirades from you-know-who, and every time I hear more of the same the blood in my feet rises to my head. There is too much malodorous saliva flying around. Call it diarrhea of the mouth.

Sometimes we need to turn off the sights and sounds and look elsewhere to revive our sanity and breathe new air. And so I look to another arena that is hardly familiar to me but is full of human faces and stories nonetheless.

With the death last week of Muhammad Ali, considered boxing’s greatest, the world of sports was at a loss for words in describing the absence that will not be filled.

I don’t like boxing. I don’t think I will ever fall in love with the brutal sport. I think it should be outlawed. I sometimes wonder what extraterrestrials would think if they came upon a boxing match, which, if you ask me, isn’t too different from a cockfight or a spider fight, a fight to the death between gladiators while the blood-thirsty spectators in the arena lustily cheer. Boxing is the sport of the underdog from the underside. I have yet to know of a boxer who was born rich. Like boxing, long-distance cycling is also for the anakpawis. Although every other rich kid now owns a mountain bike, I have yet to know of one who would desperately want to win a bike tour—in a blistering Philippine summer, that is.

 In boxing and long-distance cycling, one has to have a high threshold for pain. In golf, you walk on soft grass and you have to have lots of money, too, unless you are a caddy with access to the green. I remember Ali as the lighter of the flame in the 1996 Atlanta Summer Olympics. The signs of Parkinson’s disease were already evident then. I have a copy of the April 25, 1988, issue of Sports Illustrated with him on the cover and the cover story “Ali and His Entourage.” It is about “The Greatest” and the people who waited on him when he was the greatest.

The blurb says: “The champ and his followers were the greatest show on earth, and then the show ended. But life went on.” I’m no boxing and Ali fan, but the story by Gary Smith is a great one. The black-and-white photographs by Gregory Heisler are just as great. The story is about decay and decline. It is also about moving on.

Here are the portraits of the men and women who doted on the champ. Here they are, long after the show had ended. All together, they paint a portrait of Ali, even as they paint a portrait of themselves as individuals and as members of an entourage.

Ferdie Pacheco, the doctor: “The first signal of decline was in Ali’s hands. Pacheco began injecting them with novocaine before fights, and the ride went on. Then the reflexes slowed, the beatings began, the media started to question the doctor. And the world began to learn how much the doctor loved to talk… The slower Ali spoke, the more frequently spoke the doctor.”

Gene Kilroy, the facilitator: “The trouble with facilitating was that it left no mark, no ‘Kilroy was here.’ He has covered the walls of his rec room with 50 Ali photos. He reminisces every day. He watches videos of old Ali interviews he helped facilitate… .”

Lana Shabazz, the cook: “Some days, though, I just have to hear his voice. I call him, ask him what he’s eating. People ask me all the time how he’s doing. Know how that feels, when people ask you how’s your child, and you don’t know what to say?”

Luis Sarria, the masseur: “His hands, splayed from long, long arms, were broad and black and powerful from years of hacking Cuban sugarcane. I remembered them, working endlessly up and down the smooth ripples of Ali’s body until he drifted off to sleep. His hand I remembered, but I could not remember him.”

Pat Patterson, the bodyguard: “But the Bodyguard had to sit on the corner stool and watch helplessly when his man needed protection most, in the ring when the end was near. ‘Watching him get hit was like watching someone stick my mama with a knife.’”

Herbert Muhammad, the manager: “His dream of building 49 more mosques like this first one, using the money Ali and he could generate, was drifting further and further from his reach. Ali slurred words and shook and didn’t want to be seen on television.”

Drew “Bundini” Brown, the motivator: “…[T]he ghetto poet who motivated Ali and maddened him, who invented the phrase, ‘Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee’ … who licked Ali’s mouthpiece before sliding it in but never said a yes to him he didn’t mean; who could engage the champion in long discussions of nature and God and man, then lie in the hotel pool before a fight and have his white woman.”

Despite his immense wealth, Ali remained trapped in a ghetto. The world of boxing is a surreal world, a gold mine for stories. Consider the many movies and novels—Norman Mailer’s “The Fight” among them—on this bloody sport. Mailer was in the Philippines to cover the “Thrilla in Manila” between heavyweights Ali and Joe Frazier in 1975.

I cannot help but think of the Philippines’ boxing great, Manny Pacquiao, a newly elected senator of the republic, (he was congressman before that, with the most absences), who rose from poverty and had little education, but is now a multibillionaire, and a lawmaker. Like Ali, he has an entourage that is at his beck and call, who live off him.

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For those who need to brush up on gender issues in the religious life: The Office of Women and Gender Concerns, a mission partner of the Association of Major Religious Superiors in the Philippines, is holding a “Gender Orientation for Formators” on June 22-24 at the Benedictine Sisters Retreat House, Wagner Road, Military Cut-off, Baguio City. This is a subsidized seminar, so the fee is only P500. Call 2636208 or 0942-9804343. #

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"Sutokil' on the menu

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

If speakers of Tagalog have tapsilog and longsilog—short for tapa/longganisa, sinangag and itlog (aged beef/native sausage, fried rice and fried egg) for breakfast, the Visayans have sutokil which stands for the verbs sugba (to grill), tola (to cook a fish/chicken-veggie soup dish) and kilaw (to prepare raw fish marinated in vinegar and spices).

Sutokil, a combo meal for lunch or dinner, sounds like “shoot to kill” but is not as lethal. It is, in fact, healthier than tapsilog and longsilog because sutokil needs no frying and consists mostly of seafood.

There are many sutokil eateries in the Visayas, each one boasting of the freshness of the day’s catch and the spiciness of the kinilaw. Grilled (sinugba) tuna panga (jaw) is to die for. I’ve been to an all-tuna restaurant in Davao City offering sutokil and the visit was really worth it. Cebuanos would exclaim, “Lami gyud!” and Ilonggos, “Kanamit gid!”

I will not be surprised if eateries offering sutokil will be sprouting overnight (also in Metro Manila, I hope) because the acronym is becoming a byword, thanks to the man of the moment. President-elect Rodrigo Duterte’s intent to issue shoot-to-kill orders on lawless elements and his take-no-prisoners stance should cause fear and trembling among those concerned, but his words are also worrisome for human rights advocates. Already, the Commission on Human Rights (CHR) has made its stand against the return of the death penalty which Duterte plans to revive. And Duterte called CHR Chair Chito Gascon “an idiot.”

Those who are tired of heinous crimes and drug-related offenses welcome Duterte’s threats; others consider them harmless bluff and bluster or inflated talk. But will he, can he, on the national level? How far will he go and what if he crosses the line, as his alleged Davao Death Squad did?

Defeated presidential aspirant Jejomar Binay’s campaign line that he would make the Philippines like Makati City where his family ruled (he, his wife, son, and, now, daughter) did not work and he ended up fourth in the tally. And so Duterte’s promise to rid the streets of criminality in a few months, Davao-style, will have to be proven. He now fancies calling himself the “Mayor of the Philippines,” which is more than what the president of this country should be.

Already, the cities of Taguig, Mandaluyong and Quezon City have been putting teeth into their respective ordinances that prohibit unaccompanied minors from being out in the streets at certain hours, and for their parents to be answerable for their children’s actions by paying fines or doing community service. Only now do we know about these ordinances being implemented, although local execs are saying that they had been doing the rounds and picking up juveniles while also admitting that Duterte’s national curfew for minors would boost their efforts. Time to make pasikat and put back their dentures.

But sutokil gastronomic delights aside and speaking of real shootings and killings, something the incoming President said at one of his nocturnal briefings in Davao City, sent shivers down my spine. Asked to comment on the killing of journalists, he said journalists are not exempted from assassination. Did he mean it is always open season? And to say that these journalists—did he, at least, say “only some”?—were corrupt was the reason for their being targeted is to demean the memory of those who died in the line of duty, who died not because they were corrupt but because they were, in fact, hounding the corrupt. They knew where the stink was. A reporter I know who had exposed massive corruption that involved government officials is now lying low because of security threats.

There are corrupt people in the media as there are corrupt people everywhere—the government bureaucracy, the corporate world, the churches, the nongovernment organizations, the banking system. The last one recently gave us a shocking glimpse of a cross-country money-laundering operation the likes of which we have not seen before.

To be fair to outgoing President Aquino who reminded repeatedly, “Kung walang corrupt, walang mahirap,” his call to arms emboldened investigative journalists to dig deeper. But, alas, spade work is still hampered by the nonpassage of the freedom of information bill. But despite this, who blew the lid on the earth-shaking, jaw-dropping massive corruption that involved even senators and their accomplices (several are now in jail and on the run) who allegedly connived with an enterprising operator, if not investigative journalists? I am proud to say that the exposé first saw print in the Inquirer, and with more spade work without letup, the whole operation unraveled. But we have yet to see the last of this.

Those who gave Duterte the majority vote were no doubt enticed by his strong sound bytes peppered with words like “shoot to kill,” “extermination,” and “death by hanging” (he even described how quick it could be, with the spine getting severed and all that). His fans equate this with strong, decisive leadership, with, uh, being presidential.

Archie Brown, political scientist and historian, author of “The Myth of the Strong Leader: Political Leadership in the Modern Age,” eschews worshipping the false god of the strong leader. He writes: “Politicians spend a lot of time trying to portray the leader they oppose as weak. They believe this resonates with a broader public.”

He warns about leaders who “fall prey to arrogance” while “the rest of us… undervalue collegial and collective decision-making… Whether we are talking about authoritarian regimes or democracies, the idea that the most admirable and successful leader is one who maximizes his or her individual power is deeply suspect.” He goes on to cite lessons from history. #

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