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.

                                                               * * *

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. #

Read More

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. #

Read More

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.

                                                              * * *
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. #

Read More

"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. #

Read More

Castrillo's monument vs. Marcos tyranny

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

When the renowned Filipino sculptor Eduardo Castrillo passed away last week at 73, news reports about him included the enumeration of many of his bigger-than-life metal monuments—historical, sociopolitical, religious—that are familiar to the public. Among these are the People Power Monument on Edsa, the Bonifacio Monument near Manila City Hall, and the Rajah Sulayman Monument in Malate. Some are in the provinces.
 

But there was no mention of the one at the Bantayog ng mga Bayani compound in Quezon City, where heroes and martyrs who fought against tyranny during the dark years of the Marcos dictatorship are memorialized.
 

Soaring to the sky, this 45-foot bronze monument by Castrillo depicts a mother trying, with one hand, to raise from the ground a fallen son, while her other hand is raised to the heavens in defiance. It is a piece of work that rends the heart and pierces the soul—a timeless reminder that freedom is not free, that freedom comes at a price.

If you were one of those who experienced the excesses of the Marcos regime and the cruelty that defined it, if you lost loved ones—family members, friends, colleagues and comrades—during that despicable era, you would shudder at the memory when you look up and lay your eyes on Castrillo’s work. Yes, upon gazing at it you would, not only because of the painful events it brings back but also because of the stark poetry in the agony it depicts, the beauty in the defiant stance of a mother who must bear an unspeakable loss.
 

Truly Castrillo was able to capture the roiling mix of anger, pain and defiance. It is the reverse of his “Pieta” as far as the bereaved mother is concerned. She looks up instead of looks down. She does not sob but screams. She does not cradle her dead son but seems to be pulling him along. Because she moves. She is Inang Bayan, the motherland.

At the foot of the monument is a stanza (in Spanish, English and Filipino) from “Mi Ultimo Adios” of Jose Rizal: “I die just when I see the dawn break/ Through the gloom of night, to herald the day:/ And if color is lacking my blood thou shall take,/ Pour’d out at need for thy dear sake,/ To dye with its crimson the waking ray.”
 

The Bantayog complex now includes a P16-million building which houses a small auditorium, library, archives and museum. The 1.5-hectare property was donated by the administration of President Corazon Aquino, through Land Bank of the Philippines, the year after the Marcos dictatorship was toppled and Corazon Aquino was swept to the presidency in 1986.
 

I wish I had interviewed Castrillo long ago to ask him how he came to depict the defiant mother and her fallen son in that way, what inspired him, what he knew about the persons for whom his piece of art in bronze would be dedicated. How long did it take him to finish the work? What were his thoughts and feelings when he saw his creation being hoisted up to its pedestal? Did he often come around for quiet moments to find inspiration from the heroes and martyrs?
 

What I learned just now is that the Bantayog monument was commissioned by a donor for a seven-digit price. I do not want to mention a name because the donor might want to remain unknown. I do not know him at all.

A short distance from the monument to the heroes and martyrs is a black granite wall of remembrance where the first 65 names were etched in 1992. Many names have been added every year since then, bringing to 268 the names on the wall as of 2015. The biographies of these heroes and martyrs are posted on the Bantayog website (www.bantayog.org).
 

All of them were opposed to the martial law regime of the dictator Ferdinand Marcos and considered freedom advocates. The way they lived and died varied, but they had heroic streaks that made them worthy to be included in the list of names on the Wall of Remembrance.
 

The monument, the commemorative wall and other structures at the Bantayog complex are dedicated to the nation’s modern-day martyrs and heroes who fought against all odds to help restore freedom, peace, justice, truth and democracy in the country.
 

According to the Bantayog ng mga Bayani Foundation, its “Never Again, Never Forget Project” is “a response to recent attempts by certain groups to rewrite Philippine history, to confuse the young generation about the truths of the Marcos dictatorship, to erase its horrors, abuses and deceptions, and to have it remembered as a ‘golden era’ in the Philippines.”
 

Bantayog plans to expand its information activities that would include publishing biographies, dissemination of informative materials, film showings, roving exhibitions and museum tours.
 

It hopes to spread lessons from the martial law era and recently tackled “issues related to it included in the national debate during the 2016 electoral campaign.” It hopes to counter the “historical deception and mass forgetting of the sins of the dictatorship” so that “Philippine politics and the writing and learning of Philippine history will be the better for it.”
 

The Bantayog ng mga Bayani Foundation is chaired by Alfonso T. Yuchengco. Former Senate president Jovito R. Salonga was chair emeritus until his death early this year. May Rodriguez is the executive director. The complex is at the corner of Edsa and Quezon Avenue, just behind Centris Mall. Castrillo’s creation is a good starting point for visitors on a historical trek. Before going to the museum, visitors should head for the Wall of Remembrance and search for names of next of kin, friends, colleagues, comrades—the known and little-known—who fell in the night and also those who did not die in battle but continued the struggle until the breaking of the dawn.
 

Like many of his bronze creations that reach out to the sky, may Castrillo’s spirit reach out and soar to the heavens. #

Read More

Duterte's speech writers and other thoughts

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

Presumptive President-elect Rodrigo Duterte has rightly earned the moniker “The Mouth” because of the expletives and strong words he issued during the election campaign. Analysts of every color and odor who have come out of the woodwork during this season of surprises even attribute to Duterte’s foul language the voters’ attraction to him. He was supposedly saying for them what they could not say out loud. Including his cursing of the Pope and the Pope’s mother? Including his rape wish?

Foul language has so punctuated social media postings on the elections that even the young have taken to it. What a pity. So young and already so foul-mouthed can aptly describe these nubile cyberdenizens who post before they think.

Having taken the lead in the <@!*&%#^-^> language department during the campaign period, Duterte should now sanitize his mouth a bit without entirely losing his penchant for colorful language. I heard some of his handlers say that it behooves their principal to sound more presidential now that he has gotten the majority’s mandate.

Duterte is known to ignore prepared speeches and go extemporaneous. We saw that when he spoke before members of the Makati Business Club who were eager to hear him speak about broad economic policies, but toward the end, he instead perorated on the so-called “5-6” scheme of Indian moneylenders in cash-strapped communities. He left no time for an open forum—a subtle but smart move to avoid questions.

But now that Duterte is going to be the president of this once-woebegone nation now out of its sickbed—a development for which President Aquino is not getting enough credit—will there be a makeover, at least in Duterte’s way with words? Who will be his wordsmiths, the writers who will second-guess the Duterte mind and articulate what he needs to say to 100 million Filipinos? Who will be burning the midnight oil for next day’s oral delivery?

What will Duterte’s speeches now be like? For starters, his inaugural speech? Will his speeches be in elegant language—Filipino, English or Cebuano—or will they be deliberately gruff, made to sound off-the-cuff, with pauses for grunts while he chews his cud? (Is he into gum or does he need a denture change or something?)

Some might say that words are just words and that concrete deeds on the ground are more important. Sure. But we also need to hear about them first. The way the British Royal Navy needed to hear Winston Churchill roar, “Sink the Bismarck!” And, in a call to arms, call Hitler a “maniac,” a “monstrous apparition,” and end his speech with “march[ing] together through the fire.” It’s on YouTube.

Those who diminish the importance of the written and spoken word need only to consider the Bible and those who wrote the stories in it, the writers who inspired revolutions, the poets who stirred patriotic passions. As the biblically inclined would often say, quoting scriptures, “In the beginning was the word…” Think of Rizal’s novels. And who is not moved by a recitation of Amado V. Hernandez’s “Lumuha ka, aking bayan…” or the singing of Andres Bonifacio’s “Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya?”

One of my all-time favorites is a line from Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru’s speech on the eve of India’s independence in August 1947. “At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance.” I first read it in “Freedom at Midnight” (by Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins) when I was in my 20s and was smitten by the sound of the words.

Remember President John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address and Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg address?

But we have ours. Before me now are five CDs that contain “20 Speeches that Moved a Nation,” speeches delivered by Filipino men and women during their time and worth listening to by generations. For the recording, the speeches were recited by theater people mostly. Each CD has the transcript of the speeches. The “20 Speeches” were compiled years ago by Manuel L. Quezon III, grandson and namesake of President Manuel L. Quezon. He produced the set before he took a post in the Aquino administration, a hidden position that meant giving up his column in Inquirer Opinion (his space was right below mine) and to which, I hope, he returns. Only now I remember and see that I had written a blurb to go with the set; that’s why I was given one.

I am curious as to who will be writing Duterte’s speeches and how he will deliver them. At 71, Duterte is the oldest to be elected to the presidency, and old habits die hard. Will he read from paper or does he have to learn to use a teleprompter? President Aquino appeared at home with the gadget and, with his good speaking voice, delivered relatively well in both Filipino and English, sarcastic punches included.

Speeches, like homilies, are meant to be heard. Delivering a speech is talking to an audience. Content is important, but so is the sound of the words, the length of the sentences, the rhyme, the rhythm, the cadence, the syntax. The tone of voice. There are four big reasons for a speech, says author George Plimpton: to inspire, to persuade, to entertain, to instruct. Also, to inform.

Those who invite us to speak think that because we are writers, we can just show up tomorrow and spew out the words. Mark Twain said, “It takes three weeks to prepare a good ad-lib speech.” Writing to be read is different from writing to be heard, although as writers, we want our words on the page to sound as if spoken, to sing as if sung. #

Read More

Leni's Magnificat moment

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

It’s the month of May, when many Filipino Catholic Marian devotees celebrate the life of Mary, mother of Jesus. Muslims, too, have great respect for her. But Mothers Day, which happened to fall on the eve of Election Day, came and went, almost lost in the election cacophony. My Marian thoughts a few paragraphs from here.

It’s game over for many contested posts, if we go by the unofficial election results that have come in. But as of this writing, the vice presidential candidates are still neck and neck, with top contenders Leni Robredo and Ferdinand Marcos Jr., son and namesake of the late ousted dictator, jostling on the tally sheets.

Marcos Jr.’s purposeful rise and coming so close to the presidency has worried tens of thousands of survivor-victims of the Marcos dictatorship. On the other side, Leni’s own overnight rise from behind, beneath and below (where she dwelled in the start of the campaign) in the vice presidential race has amazed us all. After she said yes to the call to be the running mate of Mar Roxas, we saw how this reluctant candidate gave it her all.

To end that last sentence with “and never looked back” would not be quite apt for Leni because this grassroots lawyer, widow of the interior secretary and beloved mayor of Naga City Jesse Robredo, mother of three daughters, and congresswoman from Camarines Sur has not stopped looking back to where chapters in her life ended and began: the plane crash site in the sea where Jesse died in 2012.

Jesse had Leni who will continue to serve. And so as Leni’s steady and inexorable rise in the preelection surveys and in the postelection count unfolded before our eyes, some trolls that reside in the netherworld of social media would send cruel and vicious messages. As Leni recalled on GMA News’ “State of the Nation” hosted by Jessica Soho, someone had posted on Facebook: “Napaka-evil mo, sana ikaw na lang ’yung nasa eroplanong bumagsak, hindi ’yung asawa mo.” (You are so evil, I wish you were the one in the plane crash, not your husband.)

Huh? What about her is evil?

Leni said she was tempted to answer: “Hindi mo lang alam na nung bumagsak yung eroplano ng asawa ko, wini-wish ko na sana ako na lang ’yung nasa eroplanong ’yun.” (You have no idea that after my husband’s plane crashed, I would wish I were the one on that plane.)

You have no idea. Yes, loss and emotional pain could be so overwhelming that death would seem like a welcome balm. One has to go through some kind of dark night in life in order to understand that kind of sharp, searing pain from the depths. But, the poet-psalmist assures, “Joy comes in the morning.”

Call it comic relief or something out of the movies, but in Bocaue, Bulacan, two mayoral candidates who ended up in a tie had to settle for coin tossing—for cara y cruz, literally. Thank God for some rain in the form of laughter in this sweltering El Niño month.

Leni might yet be the answer to the prayer for divine intervention for which many Filipino voters had been desperately hoping. When the die was cast, and hope dimmed for those who had fears in their hearts about what’s on the road ahead, the image of steady Leni and what she stood for seemed to provide a ray of light. Having worked with those on the fringes of society, she vowed to personally and literally get them included in the government’s agenda.

Now that victory is nigh and when asked how she would see herself in a Duterte presidency, Leni did not flinch from her original option to be with the disenfranchised. If given a choice, she said, she would want to see herself in antipoverty programs, not a Cabinet position.

To Marcos Jr.’s unfounded tirade (he now sounds like his father stricken with paranoia during the dying days of his dictatorship) that Leni could be part of the Liberal Party’s so-called “Plan B” to topple presumptive president-elect Rodrigo Duterte and install her as president, Leni just laughed. “I have no presidential ambition,” she asserted. Clearly he has, she added in so many words.

On Leni’s part, it has all been affirmation after affirmation about the battles she took on after Jesse died. The reluctant candidate has made broad strides and accepted challenges with nary a tinge of personal ambition. And always, with gratefulness in her heart.

I think of Mary’s Magnificat, her cry of praise and gratitude to God who raised her up. The Magnificat is Mary’s longest spiel in the Bible where she says, “You have thrown down the mighty from their thrones and exalted the lowly…” Surely many of us have had Magnificat moments in our lives. I think of Leni and I think of the Magnificat.

From nowhere, Leni has come this far. I pray she triumphs.
                                           * * *
After voting early in the morning of May 9 (I was among the first batch in my precinct) and going to the wake of a friend ( a women’s rights advocate in the Church sector), my friends and I had lunch at a Cubao restaurant with fiesta-like pahiyas decor used in Lucban, Quezon. Just across from it is Novotel where, it was falsely rumored, vote-counting machines were being stored for cheating purposes. No wonder we saw media vehicles coming. Dud! We focused on our fiesta fare.

Henceforth we will be associating the month of May with elections. But what is May without the Flores de Mayo and the Santacruzan? What’s life without the childhood memories of May, of blazing summers and sudden downpours, of food and fiestas, of beaches and rivers and flowers and songs?#

Read More

While we were sleeping

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

God help us, is now an oft-repeated refrain.

The emergence of Ferdinand Marcos Jr., the late dictator’s only son and namesake, as a front-runner in the vice presidential race has caught many by surprise. Or should it? It shocks and worries those who suffered during Marcos Sr.’s 14-year dictatorial rule and those who continue to suffer the aftermath of those dark martial law years. Loss of loved ones, properties, livelihood and the personal trauma of those who survived have not been erased by the decades that have passed.

Recognition of the victims’ bravery in the struggle against dictatorial rule through the soon-to-be-built Freedom Memorial (museum, library and archives) and the forthcoming compensation for survivors and the families of those who perished, both mandated by Republic Act No. 10368, will serve as grim reminders that, indeed, there were people who suffered. That, indeed, there were heroes and martyrs as there were tyrants and despots. That, indeed, there exists the Marcoses’ ill-gotten wealth. The compensation (P10 billion) comes mainly from a Marcos stash in Swiss banks that the Swiss government returned. But there’s more out there to be discovered.

Alas, during these past three decades after the Marcos dictatorship came crashing down, many of those who made this happen, the militant sector in particular, became preoccupied with demonizing the succeeding governments. They were busy trying to get their ideological agenda across. They laid aside—conveniently or purposefully—the Marcos past while claiming their portion from the ruins and pushing forward their political plans.

I am referring to the militant, ideological Left that continues to espouse a protracted class war and a bloody insurgency in the countryside while having one foot in the electoral process. But to give credit where credit is due, the leftist militants were the ones who had a sustained, protracted struggle against the Marcos dictatorship that, alas, was overtaken by the 1986 People Power uprising and military putsch (so-called Edsa I) that brought down the Marcos dictatorship.

The militants who had broken away from their hard-core comrades sought alternative ways to serve, but in the din of clashing political views and strategies, were often outshouted by their former comrades. Those who took the mainstream path of service—via academe, business, civil society, media, politics, church—became preoccupied with their particular concerns. Who was guarding the fort?

The Marcoses slowly and stealthily found inroads and, in no time, were back in the country, claiming back their lost territories that would again be their stepping stones to power. Again the blame-throwing. Why is the story about the Marcos dictatorship not in the history books being used in schools? Who were supposed to have been the repository and guardians of these dark memories? Was everybody so busy moving on?

And so, to borrow the title of a movie, while we were sleeping … something was going on. In street-corner journalese, nakatulog sa pansitan. Which reminds me of the Bible parable about those who were supposed to keep vigil with their lamps but were caught sleeping when the bridegroom came, except that in our case, there was no bridegroom to be expected but a bunch of despoilers to be prevented from regaining foothold.

In fairness, there were groups and individuals that kept the candle of memory trimmed and lit for heroism and sacrifice to be kept alive, among them, the Bantayog ng mga Bayani Foundation, the human rights groups, the writers who wrote books, the walking, living survivors who shared their experiences with the young.

And if I may tap ourselves on the back, the journalists and other media workers (documentarists, filmmakers, theater denizens) who did their part to impart. Year in and year out, during special dates, we at the Inquirer would come out with articles on the heroic struggles during those dark years to remind, remember, honor and be thankful for regained freedoms.

But there had been little institutional or governmental assist to perpetuate the memory through education, not only of the heroes and martyrs, but also of a dark chapter that should never happen again. Sure, there is the Presidential Commission on Good Government’s (PCGG) recovering some Marcos wealth. It is to be commended for belatedly showing to the public the enormity of what had been recovered (Imelda Marcos’ jewelry collection, among them). But there is so much more out there, among them, the hundreds of artworks that are in the millions of dollars each. (We wrote a series on these masterpieces last year.)

It is in the area of collective memory that there might have been a blip. Not because of some psychogenic amnesia or selective forgetting of the pain, but simply because of neglect and complacency.

And so the cramming. How to prevent Marcos Jr. from becoming vice president, a post perhaps not as powerful as that of a Senate president or House speaker, but it is a sneeze away from the presidency.

I dug up my files (digital and hard copy) of almost 30 years and, yes, sometime in 1987, the year after the Marcoses fled and Cory Aquino became president, there were efforts in the academe to incorporate human rights awareness in the curriculum. Those who had witnessed and experienced human rights violations during the Marcos military dictatorship, those in the academe especially, wanted human rights to become a byword in early education. I did a Sunday Inquirer Magazine story on this (“Is there a human rights teacher in the schoolhouse?” 6/14/1987). Whatever happened to it?

I am trying to put together a list of books (now in the hundreds) on the dreadful martial law years. You can help by sending me the image of the cover, author, description of the book, date of publication and publisher. I hope to make a blog site of it. Any suggestion for a blog site name? #

 

Read More

Nuns all over PH pray for divine intervention

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

They call on voters to chose 'servant-leaders'

Presidential aspirants Davao City Mayor Rodrigo Duterte, Senator Grace Poe, Senator Miriam Defensor-Santiago, Vice President Jejomar Binay and Mar Roxas. Presidential aspirants Davao City Mayor Rodrigo Duterte, Senator Grace Poe, Senator Miriam Defensor-Santiago, Vice President Jejomar Binay and Mar Roxas.


DESPERATELY seeking divine intervention, Catholic Church parishes, religious congregations and various groups are turning to prayer and fasting in the run-up to the national elections on May 9.

Given the muck, mud, slime and scum being thrown about during the election campaign, given the quality of candidates lording it over at the hustings and regaling crowds with pies in the sky and inappropriate jokes, these are desperate times indeed.

On May 1, the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) president, Socrates Villegas, issued a “pastoral appeal” titled “Prophets of Truth, Servants of Unity” that urged voters to “discern (their) choices.”

“In this novena of rosaries and Masses, we claim from the Lord the gift of a godly electoral process,” said the archbishop of Lingayen. “With the permission of the bishops, the Blessed Sacrament may be exposed for public adoration to beg the Lord for the gift of peaceful elections.”

He told the candidates: “Pray! Pray not only to win but pray that the Lord may show by His signs His chosen leader for this nation, this nation who calls on Him at the crossroads of its national life.” But even before the CBCP pastoral appeal, some religious congregations have already been on their knees, fasting, praying novenas and the rosary for clean elections and so that voters would be discerning and choose exemplary servant-leaders.

At the Carmelite monastery in Lipa City, the contemplative nuns have been praying a novena to the Holy Spirit since April 30.

A novena is a series of nine-day prayers for a particular intention.

“We have been praying daily the four mysteries of the rosary specifically for the elections,” said Mother Prioress Mary Grace Rillo, OCD.

At the Cubao diocese, women and men from religious congregations have composed common daily intercessory prayers and have used them since April 30, said Fr. Aris Sison, rector of the Immaculate Conception Cathedral.

‘Veritas’ prayer

Sr. Sonia Aldeguer of the Religious of the Sacred Heart said her community had incorporated the prayers for the elections into their community night prayers. They use the “Veritas” prayer that came from the Association of Major Religious Superiors of the Philippines and its Justice and Peace and Integrity of Creation task force.

Another prayer composed by one of the sisters ends with an intercession for administration candidates Mar Roxas and Leni Robredo.

Aldeguer said a religious congregation in Taguig City on Friday held a forum and mock elections among their mission partners. The winners, Aldeguer said, were Roxas and Robredo.

The Franciscan Missionaries of Mary (FMM) are also among the congregations that have taken to prayer and adoration of the Blessed Sacrament for the elections. Sr. Asuncion Borromeo, superior of a Cubao community of FMMs, said they were also praying the Veritas prayer. The Veritas prayer asks the Holy Spirit for “divine wisdom and insight” for the Philippine electorate.

The Missionary Benedictine Sisters have been also praying and fasting, said Sr. Mary John Mananzan OSB, head of St. Scholastica’s College Institute of Women’s Studies.

No endorsement

In his statement, Archbishop Villegas said: “We encourage you to pray the rosary every day and receive Holy Communion starting May 1 until May 9. In this novena of rosaries and Masses, we claim from the Lord the gift of a godly electoral process. With the permission of the bishops, the Blessed Sacrament may be exposed for public adoration to beg the Lord for the gift of peaceful elections.”

According to him, the Catholic Church has never asked any political candidate to seek its endorsement.

“But the Catholic Church has always demanded of Catholic voters that they cast their votes as an act not only of citizenship but also as a public declaration of faith. We ask this most earnestly of all of you, Catholic brothers and sisters, in the forthcoming election,” Villegas said.

He noted that the desire for change was understandable because the people had suffered from “incompetence and indifference.”

“But this cannot take the form of supporting a candidate whose speech and actions, whose plans and projects show scant regard for the rights of all, who has openly declared indifference if not dislike and disregard for the Church specially her moral teachings,” Villegas said.

‘Servant-leaders’

In a two-page pastoral letter issued on Sunday, Bishop Buenaventura Famadico of San Pablo City urged the Catholic faithful to vote “servant-leaders” and reject candidates belonging to political dynasties.

“This is the day when we can prove how we truly love our country by using our single vote as reflection of ourselves and our share in God’s saving actions,” Famadico said.

“Selling your votes and buying votes by candidates degrade into mutual manipulation between voters and candidates,” he added. With reports from Tina G. Santos and Romulo O. Ponte, Inquirer Southern Luzon Read more: http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/782891/nuns-all-over-ph-pray-for-divine-intervention#ixzz4D96pPanJ Follow us: @inquirerdotnet on Twitter | inquirerdotnet on Facebook

Read More

Bishop Julio Labayen on revolution and spirituality

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


Yesterday while I was working on the column for today, I received word that Bishop Julio Xavier Labayen passed away early in the morning. He was three months short of 90. I had to put on hold the column piece I had begun. And, through his writings and my recollections of my associations with him, enter virtually into the essence of this man, this Carmelite priest, this “revolutionary” bishop who quietly shook the ramparts of the Catholic Church in the Philippines by his radical stance on the oppressive structures of society and the poor.

But not to forget: Labayen insisted on one all-important, binding ingredient in well-intentioned pursuits, be they political, ideological, developmental or religious: spirituality. (His biography, “It is the Lord,” by Sr. Ma. Dulce Emmanuel F. Inlayo, OCD, is available at Claretian publications.)

I still have the transcripts of my interviews with and articles I had written on him. I wish I could share them in one fell swoop. Here are excerpts from one I had written:

Who is Bishop Labayen? A line I had written made it as a blurb on the back cover of his book, “Revolution and the Church of the Poor.” Had I known it was going to be used, I would have volunteered something better.

Here it is: “Bishop Julio Xavier Labayen, a member of the Order of the Discalced Carmelites, is viewed by many as ‘controversial,’ having figured in clashes with the Marcos dictatorship. In a sea of conservatives in the Philippine Church hierarchy, the bishop is considered a voice in the wilderness.” Pardon the mixed metaphors in this intro to my Q&A that came out in the Inquirer in that frenzied week of Pope John Paul II’s visit in 1995.

I did stress his being a Carmelite—steeped in the spirituality of mystics John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila—to contrast with his being perceived as a leftist by the military and even by his colleagues.

In his book, Labayen attempted to present the Church of the Poor from “the perspective and analysis of revolution.” The book was not an apologia for some Church people’s romancing Marxism and so-called liberation movements. Far from it. What Labayen wanted to see was “a letting go of what has become irrelevant and obstructive, a going beyond… a dying to what has ceased to serve life… .”

What he was driving at was the failure of revolutionary movements to deliver. Some things just didn’t work. Or don’t work anymore. Or were bound to fail.

“What I write here,” said Labayen, “is the fruit of my 33 years of pastoral experience as the bishop prelate of Infanta (Quezon)… interwoven with the dark strands of trials, crisis, harassment, persecution and marginalization, and also with the bright strands of pastoral breakthroughs, deep insights, qualitative turning points, reassuring faith-experiences of the living God of history, His/Her comforting presence in the midst of abandonment, and discovery of the fathomless depths of the human spirit.”

But before tackling revolutions, Labayen presented two models of the Church—the “imperialist” Christendom model and the Church of the Poor. In this context he said that “while the Church may be historically shaped and conditioned by history, the same Church was founded by Jesus Christ to shape history.”

In Chapter 5 (“Where did revolutions go wrong?”) Labayen made a straightforward criticism of revolutions abroad. He cited Europe and China and lingered in Latin America, Nicaragua especially, where the Church played a vital role in the revolution. “In the initial process of revolutions,” Labayen wrote, “the outcomes either fall short of the initial noble intentions or, sometime after victory, short-change the masses.”

At home, Labayen cited the failure of the Christians for National Liberation (founded “with the intention of having a Christian presence in the revolution”) “to influence the revolutionary process to make it more humane, compassionate and less rigid.” He noted that cultural and psychological perspectives were often not taken into consideration in revolutionary affairs. It cannot all be politics and economics, he pointed out. The human factor is important. The human heart, the human spirit, he argued, also seek to be liberated.

But of course, he presented another paradigm—Christ. Not the one who is conveniently portrayed as a radical to polarize social classes, but the Christ who preached about an interior revolution in the human heart and spirit. The bishop was on to another plane. Labayen, the social action man, was not shy to say: “Those who are committed to revolution often think that the interior journey of the human heart and spirit is tantamount to copping out of the struggle… considered reactionary [and] will delay the revolution.”

He urged revolutionaries to “consider the essential condition for a genuine and lasting revolution which is that of a radically changed human heart and spirit. In other words, a spirituality for/of revolution.” He dared suggest that they “understand the contribution of the mystics and psychologists… It may well be that here we encounter a yet untapped inner resource that we have not harnessed for revolution. Could it be that herein lies the ingredient that is lacking for the satisfactory and fulfilling outcome?”

I was stumped by this. I had long waited for someone to say this.

Dig into your inner well, he exhorted, then offered words from San Juan de la Cruz’s Spiritual Canticle: “And then we will go on/ To the high caverns on the rock/ Which are so well concealed;/ There we shall enter/ And taste the fresh juice of the pomegranates.”

If, as they say, John of the Cross, if peeled and stripped of the Christian layers, is really a Buddhist monk, I think Bishop Labayen, if stripped of his activist label, was truly a contemplative, a monk at prayer, on his knees in the bloody fields of battle. #

 

Read More

As the mind, so the mouth

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

We don’t need a Sigmund Freud to tell us that what comes out of one’s mouth—be it a slip, a flub, interjections of surprise, anger or joy, and other puzzling, shocking utterances—can reveal something about one’s state of mind and heart. What more when the utterances are plain offensive, and the utterer incorrigible, unapologetic?

Almost 2,000 years ago, someone named Jesus was already preaching about what comes in and out of one’s mouth: “But the things that proceed out of the mouth come from the heart, and those defile the man. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, slanders…” And: “For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.” There’s more where these came from.

And so when a campaigning presidential candidate, Rodrigo Duterte, recalled last week to a crowd a 1989 hostage-taking incident in a Davao City prison facility and how a female Australian missionary working among the prisoners was repeatedly raped and killed, he expressed anger but also added in so many words that he, as the mayor, should have had the privilege to be the first in line to her body. She was movie-star beautiful, he emphasized.

I was dumbfounded.

Duterte and his apologists have backtracked a bit by saying it was uttered in anger (?) then. So what was the sense in repeating the same offensive line 26 years later? To regale the crowd? Was the story such a delectable story to tell? I do not believe that it was uttered then and repeated now as a joke, as some people think it was. Joke or not, it was plain cruel —to the dead, her fellow hostages, her family, her compatriots, women, and those who respect them.

This was not the first time Duterte unleashed gender-offensive lines and dished out jokes with sexual overtones. Expletives? Plenty. Even Pope Francis and his mother got cussed.

No, he will not apologize, Duterte said as of this writing. Take it or leave it. No breast-beating for him, just more chest-thumping. Nobody controls his mouth, he made it clear. Love me, love my mouth.

What can one say? As the mind, so the mouth.

Gutter language, he calls it, harking back to his so-called humble beginnings. Humble beginnings? But didn’t he attend exclusive boys’ schools at some time in his life? Granted that he tries to identify with the poor of this world, but does he think gutter language defines the poor? The humble folk who struggle to rise above penury and achieve life with dignity should be insulted. Why equate poverty with rudeness and boorishness, with kabastusan?

Duterte (called “Dudirty” by his critics) is the kind of president we deserve, if we are to go by the cheers of the crowd he wows and the explanations of his apologists, among them a bar topnotcher and senator. How have we come to this? Some call him “Do30,” which might have been coined by journalists and those who know what 30 means, not barring divine intervention, fire and brimstone from the sky, and other apocalyptic occurrences.

That Duterte might not really be that interested in the presidency is not a totally wild conclusion. He was a reluctant candidate in the beginning who had to be constantly pushed. He gave a grudging yes but after he did, it looked like there was no turning back. Does he now secretly wish he did not get into this? Why the self-destructive statements that turn off rather than attract voters?

On the other extreme, is he preparing us for a Duterte-style presidency, a “vigilante”-style leadership reminiscent of his Davao brand of managing a city? Boasting of his Davao exploits (e.g., shooting down criminals, no questions asked), he is foil to Vice President Jejomar Binay who boasts of his own Makati City exploits. The Binays (the VP, wife Elenita, son Junjun) have ruled Makati for more than two decades. A daughter is now a senator, while another daughter, the congresswoman, is now running for Makati mayor after her brother was removed and is now facing charges of corruption. But the Dutertes (father and daughter, interchangeably or in tandem) also ruled Davao City uninterrupted.

If this were a movie, it would be titled “Iyo ang Makati, Akin ang Davao,” starring fast-drawing actors spewing quotes like “Isang bala ka lang!” that make moviegoers’ adrenaline rise.

But the campaign season is not a movie. Candidates know that the crowds are entitled to some entertainment, but to dish out offensive quotes, cruel jokes and insulting spiels, and to present lewd numbers are condescending. It could even backfire on them. The loudness of the laughter and howling is not necessarily indicative of votes. Those in the crowd will go home and recount what they heard and saw, the scandalous sounds and sights among them.

The health of Duterte’s mind is one thing, and is obvious. What about the wellness of his body? Didn’t he drop intimations about his mortality? While presidential candidate Miriam Defensor Santiago openly admits she has Stage 4 lung cancer, Duterte has not disclosed his state of health. Nor have the three other presidential candidates. There is a clamor for the presidential and vice presidential candidates to disclose their state of health and their staying power. For starters, why not submit their blood samples? For DNA testing, if necessary. Just to make sure some of them are not related to each other.

For Duterte followers, some quotes from the Buddha:

“The thought manifests as the word. The word manifests as the deed. The deed develops into habit. And the habit hardens into character. So watch the thought and its ways with care.”

“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow. Our life is the creation of our mind.” #

Read More