Metaphorizing good governance: P-noy's inaugural speech from another lens

When asked what my initial impression of newly installed Philippine President Benigno Aquino III’s inaugural speech was, I answered that it is, quite admirably, straightforward and bereft of the rhetorical or oratorical flourish common in Philippine inaugural addresses especially those delivered in the pre-martial law years (see Malaya and Malaya 2004). 

That it is straightforward does not however mean that the speech is lacking in metaphors. Like any piece of political discourse, President Aquino’s or P-Noy's inaugural speech is rich with expressions that on the one hand, facilitate the understanding of abstractions through more common domains of experience, and on the other, create speaker-audience identification, develop goodwill, and bolster political capital for the newly elected national leader.

To illustrate what I mean, I quote the following final statements in President Noynoy Aquino’s first important address to the nation:

‘Layunin ko na sa pagbaba ko sa katungkulan, masasabi ng lahat na malayo na ang narating natin sa pagtahak ng tuwid na landas at mas maganda na ang kinabukasang ipamamana natin sa susunod na henerasyon. Samahan ninyo ako sa pagtatapos ng laban na ito.’ (My hope is that when I leave office, everyone can say that we have traveled far on the right path, and that we are able to bequeath a better future to the next generation. Join me in continuing this fight for change.)

‘Traveling on the right path’ (‘pagtahak ng tuwid na landas’) is a core expression (the nub?) in his 20-minute address. It appears to be a common expression in Philippine political rhetoric and indicates what appears to me as an overarching metaphor of the speech—GOVERNANCE IS A JOURNEY. 

The apparent overarching metaphor is not really different from how governance had been conceptualized in the past presidencies, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo’s presidency included. What of course distinguishes P-noy’s rhetoric from his predecessors—not the least of them Gloria Arroyo whose style of governance he deems to thwart—are the specifics that underlie or constitute the overarching metaphor. We can then ask: what kind of journey does he have in store for his people? How does he further conceptualize this journey and its participants/ travelers (the newly elected government and the people it is mandated to lead)? What road map has he prepared for his government and the people? 

My goal in this attempt at analyzing the text more closely is to show a nuanced conceptualization of the journey through the metaphorical expressions, words, and phrases (lexico-grammatical features) found in the text (I use the original text delivered largely in Filipino as basis for my preliminary analysis) in the hope of giving us an idea of how the new Philippine president wishes to symbolically represent his new administration throughout his term. Also an analysis of the inaugural address, being the speech that sets the tone for the new government, shall serve useful in evaluating whether Mr. Aquino’s conceptualization of governance will have remained stable or will have experienced significant shifts by the end of his term.

What kind of journey does he envision for the country?

I believe the core expression mentioned above encapsulates P-noy’s idea of the kind of journey he envisions for the Philippines during his six-year term: ‘pagtahak sa tuwid na landas.’ ‘Tuwid’ (literally ‘straight’ but translated as ‘ethical’ in the English version of the inaugural address) is a recurring lexical choice in the speech. The pursuit of the straight/ethical path is realized in such expressions as ‘Ang unang hakbang ay ang pagkakaroon ng tuwid at tapat na hanay ng mga pinuno’ and ‘Ipagpatuloy natin ito tungo sa tuwid at tapat na pamamahala’ where the term ‘tuwid’ is linked or collocated with word-choices indicative of the journey metaphor: ‘unang hakbang’ and ‘tungo.’ It is also underscored through contrasting images, as in the following: ‘Ang mandato ninyo sa amin ay pagbabago—isang malinaw na utos para ayusin ang gobyerno at lipunan mula sa pamahalaang iilan lamang ang nakikinabang tungo sa isang pamahalaang kabutihan ng mamamayan ang pinangangalagaan’; ‘Sana ay magsilbi itong babala sa mga nag-iisip na ipagpatuloy ang baluktot na kalakarang nakasanayan na ng marami’ (re: the last example implicitly contrasts ‘tuwid’ with ‘baluktot’ or crooked).

Clearly, Aquino’s idea of governance is metaphorized as a journey towards the straight/ethical path characterized by ethical and honest leadership, suggesting through the repudiation of the way the previous government operated (‘pamahalaang iilan lamang ang nakikinabang’, ‘baluktot’) a trajectory from what had been to what should be, from a presumably sorry state of affairs to one that is almost ideal. This metaphorization re-articulates the message of hope that Aquino promised in his campaign. This, of course, raises high expectations for his presidency, but Aquino curiously deploys other metaphorical expressions in an attempt to strike a balance between the euphoria and the reality of having to lead at a critical juncture of Philippine history.

How does he further conceptualize this journey and its participants?

Perhaps, in an attempt to bring his audience back to the ground, he expressed his ascendance into power as ‘umpisa ng kalbaryo ko’ (translated in the English version as ‘the beginning of my burden’—which actually avoids the semantic tension suggested by the term ‘kalbaryo). The term ‘kalbaryo’ conjures an image of a man carrying a heavy cross, itself an Aquino metaphor for the national problems (‘kung marami tayong magpapasan ng krus ay kakayanan natin ito, gaano man kabigat'). 

On the one hand, the metaphorization functions to remind the president’s audience that while they should be hopeful and celebratory towards the ushering of a new leadership, the task of pursuing good governance or redirecting the nation towards the right path is rather daunting and not an easy one. On the other, it manifests how taken-for-granted it is to mesh Philippine politics with the Christian narrative. It reflects how religion has been inextricably interwoven into the current Philippine socio-political life. 

Also, the metaphor curiously puts Aquino in unison with his mother whose presidency was seen as operating within a politico-spiritual plane (Mamot 1987). If Cory Aquino was Philippine democracy’s Joan of Arc and later the Mater Dolorosa of a nation almost divided, why can’t her son Noynoy be likened to Christ himself? As his speech tells us, his administration is ready to suffer the burden carried over from the previous administration, but promises redemption in the end. Seen within the framework of good versus evil employed in the young Aquino’s presidential campaign, the metaphor and the images it conjures appear to work.

Aquino was of course quick to say that the cross or burden is not his alone. It is going to be shared by all.

Indeed, Aquino conceptualizes the Filipino people as active participants in the journey: ‘Kung kasama ko kayo, maitataguyod natin ang isang bayan kung saan pantay-pantay ang pagkakataon, dahil pantay-pantay nating ginagampanan ang ating mga pananagutan.’ He then saw it fit to reaffirm conceptualizations his mother consistently expressed in her discourses throughout her presidency: ELECTIONS ARE CONCRETE ACTS OF DEMOCRACY; DEMOCRACY IS PEOPLE POWER. He said: ‘Pagkatapos ng bilangan, pinatunayan ninyo na ang tao ang tunay na lakas ng bayan. Ito ang kahalagahan ng demokrasya. Ito ang pundasyon ng ating pagkakaisa. Nangampanya tayo para sa pagbabago. Dahil dito, taas-noo muli ang Pilipino. Tayong lahat ay kabilang sa isang bansa kung saan maaari nang mangarap muli.’ And as if to emphasize the primacy of the people, he represented them as the president’s ‘boss’: ‘Kayo angboss ko, kaya’t hindi maaaring hindi ako makinig sa utos ninyo.’

What may perhaps be considered the most populist-oriented articulation of Aquino’s conceptualization of the people as active participants in the journey may be seen in these words: ‘Inaanyayahan ko kayo ngayon na manumpa sa ating mga sarili, sa sambayanan, WALANG MAIIWAN’ (Today I am inviting you to pledge to yourselves and to our people. No one shall be left behind). This is then followed by some of the most memorable lines in the speech: ‘Walang pangingibang-bayan at gastusan na walang wastong dahilan. Walang pagtatalikod sa mga salitang binitiwan noong kampanya, ngayon at hanggang sa susunod pang pagsubok na pagdadaanan sa loob ng anim na taon. Walang lamangan, walang padrino at walang pagnanakaw. Walang wang-wang, walang counter-flow, walang tong. Panahon na upang tayo ay muling magkawang-gawa.’ Here he employs the rhetorical strategies of repetition and negation—not really original, but nonetheless effective in wielding public approval and support at the early stage of his presidency.

What road map has he prepared for the people?

The road map that Aquino has laid for the people includes his specific plans, the challenges he expects to face, and also the means to realize the plans and respond to the challenge. His speech is not really wanting in specifics: 

• review of ‘midnight appointments’;
• address the shortage in classroom and educational facilities; 
• lessen the lack of infrastructure in transportation, tourism, and trade; 
• revive the ‘emergency employment’ program; strengthen tax collection; 
• fight corruption in the Bureau of Internal Revenue and Bureau of Customs to fund social services;
• strengthen and expand the armed forces and police for the protection of the ordinary folks;
• help farmers with irrigation, extension services, and marketing their products at the best possible price
• cut red tape dramatically and implement stable economic policies
• level the playing field for investors
• create jobs at home
• respond to the needs of the overseas Filipino workers
• strengthen processes of consultation and feedback
• uphold the constitutional right of citizens to information on matters of public concern
• provide true and complete justice for all
• form a Truth Commission headed by former Chief Justice Hilario Davide
• commit to a peaceful and just settlement of conflict in Mindanao

This is all good and pleasant to the ears, but a close reading of the text also reveals what is unstated and deemphasized. 

While P-Noy talked of helping farmers with irrigation, extension services and marketing their products, he was silent about agrarian reform—supposedly the centerpiece of his mother’s administration (Aquino 1991), but something her presidency failed to fully implement what with the still contested and controversial Cojuangco family-owned Hacienda Luisita in Tarlac. 

While P-Noy talked about his government’s commitment to a peaceful and just settlement of conflict in Mindanao, he hardly talked about addressing the long-standing communist insurgency in the country. He did talk about the imperative to ‘defeat the enemy by wielding the tools of justice, social reform, and equitable governance leading to a better life’. That he mentioned defeating the ‘enemy’ (without necessarily and specifically identifying which enemy) suggests an engagement in combat/war and appears to relegate to the sidelines the potential of negotiating and reconciling with an ideologically driven opponent. Meanwhile, the expression ‘wielding the tools of justice’ seems to be reminiscent of the conceptualization DEMOCRACY IS A WEAPON, which had been realized at varying degrees in the four administrations after the Marcos dictatorship.

And while P-Noy talked about cutting the red tape, implementing stable economic policies and leveling the playing field for investors, it might be necessary for us to consider that in Philippine political discourse, ‘red tape’ sometimes also refers to protectionist and nationalist policies that secure for us our national patrimony, that ‘stable economic policies’ are often only stable as far as foreign investors and the wealthy Filipino businessmen are concerned, and that ‘leveling the playing field’ sometimes means less protection from the government and more ‘privateering’ as the economy is increasingly liberalized.

Of course, P-Noy offers good, ethical governance as the means to achieve his set goals. But then it may also be wise to consider that while ethical leadership is necessary to steer the country towards national development goals, it is not, as his incorruptible mother’s example had shown, sufficient to be able to do so.

What specifically is the role of the Aquino government in this journey?

How does the Aquino government figure then in this journey? From what has been discussed so far, the role of the new government is not going to be a clear-cut, monolithic character that is less complex as the previous one or devoid of contradictions.

As President Aquino strives to become the ethical and honest leader that he sets as standard in his inauguration, his government will be juggling roles—often conflicting ones—in order to reach out and work with his various constituents in the next six years. While his government will attempt to be the ‘champion of the poor’, he will maintain to be an ‘enabler of (big) business.’ While he fulfills his vow to be a faithful servant to the people—his ‘boss’, he shall most certainly maintain his affiliation with his political party and political allies who helped out in his campaign.

At the very least we can expect a government that is conscious of its role as a transparent and accountable servant of the people. Perhaps, the challenge for those who dare participate actively in the journey is to use Aquino’s promise of transparency and consultative leadership as a means to negotiate what may be contentious terms in his future policies. 

So what?

So what are the implications of understanding this nuanced conceptualization of governance in the inaugural address? 

The inaugural address is of course not just a concatenation of words that we should dismiss because we easily subscribe to the notion that words are empty and that actions are what make the difference. Words, in fact, are actions. And this is especially true if they come from a powerful agent such as the president. The words of President Benigno Aquino emphasize and highlight what he deems important in his administration; it goes without saying that these same words hide or deemphasize what he considers least of his priorities. Moreover, his words will most likely find their way into laws or statutes or executive orders—what one discourse analyst calls ‘non-negotiable materialities’ or ‘more authoritative contexts’—and they will have a bearing on public policy and how we do politics from the here and now.

Well, there is also the idea that since the inaugural address is expectedly high in triumphal rhetoric and the rhetoric of promise, it would serve the purpose of showing whether, at the end of his term, the president is good on his promises. While that is undeniably important, I am not really very keen on following that for my future analysis. Socio-economic and political analysts can take care of that. 

What interests me more is how the rhetoric in the inaugural is going to evolve in the future rhetorical acts of President Aquino. I suppose that will tell us more about what kind of man we have chosen to pursue the task at hand, and perhaps, what kind of people we have become.

-end-

Venus Raj, Fandom, and the Vicissitudes of Beauty Pageants

(Reposted from facebook)

I think it’s time to purge myself of the sentimentality bug that has gotten into me quite recently. So, at the risk of sounding contrived, I would like to give a more “disinterested” take on the recent controversy that has hugged the pageant headlines during the past week.       

I have listed down several points of reflection from the Venus Raj dethronement and near enthronement saga:   

First, the case of Venus parallels some of the cases examined by author Susan Dewey in her book “Making Miss India Miss World” (Syracuse, 2008)—especially with regard to how girls in the rural areas view pageants as their means towards social mobility and self-improvement, even self-actualization.

Second, the overwhelming support given by (Filipino) pageant fans to the embattled Venus could not have been possible if not for globalization, that is, in the broadest sense of the term. 

Third, there is a limit as to how the “virtues” of globalization work in favor of the oppressed or the victims of the elitist social structure. This is especially the case when we begin to consider the consequences of mediatization (or the media construction of social realities, if you will).   

Fourth, I believe Venus herself can be seen as an example of a woman exercising her creative agency in a structure ruled by elitist interests. This is especially evident in how she handled different opinions about her case—from the legalistic and more pragmatic take on the issue to the downright combative position especially when dealing with her perceived oppressors.   

I shall now discuss them in more detail.   

Self-actualization and Venus Raj   

Indeed, the Venus story is somewhat parallel to the stories of women in India who, Dewey recounts, see beauty pageants as their means towards achieving their life aspirations.   Venus, who comes from a family of modest means in the Philippine countryside, said in one of her interviews that joining pageants has been her way to help her poor family lead a more comfortable life.   

Unlike other beauty contestants who come from well-to-do families and who regard pageants as just one of their many options to achieve personal success, Venus treats pageants as her major mechanism to pull her family out of its impoverished condition. Pageants are part of her very limited options, but she knows very well that because of her natural assets as a woman (including her natural intelligence), she can very well succeed in pursuing such option.   

It may be easy for some to say “let go” or “it’s time to move on”, but when one is poor and her options are very limited, it is natural for her to hold on to every decent possibility of reclaiming her stolen dreams and to preserve what’s left of her dignity. I suspect that the way Venus dealt with the dethronement issue is partly determined by her socio-economic class. I shall elaborate more on this point in the fourth section.   

Globalization and the Pageant Fans   

The seeming “triumphal narrative” suggested by recent developments in the Venus Raj story would not have been possible if not for her adoring fans who took the cudgels for her in what is broadly framed as a battle between the oppressed and the oppressor or the underprivileged beauty and the powerful/ elitist beauty pageant structure.   

Thanks to globalization, the pageant fans from all over the world are able to wield power in the court of public opinion. Thanks specifically to the new communications technology, the pageant fans, especially Venus supporters, are able to gain access to popular social networking sites where 21st century public opinion is constantly formulated and reformulated. They are also able to access important contacts like representatives of the Miss Universe Organization whom they flooded with complaints and letters of appeal after Venus was unceremoniously dethroned.   

Twenty years ago, the appeals would have easily fallen on deaf ears, but because news is now in constant flow in the borderless cyberspace, attention on the issue has been sustained. There was no way for media organizations, the local pageant organizers, and the MUO to ignore the story of Venus Raj.   

  

Mediatization and the Trivialization of Poverty    

There is a catch though to the mediatized global spread of the Venus Raj story. That I argue is the trivialization of poverty.   

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of Vicky Morales and her “Wish Ko Lang” show. Back home, I would indulge myself in a lachrymal late-Saturday afternoon experience every time I would watch the show. Unfortunately for me, there is no catharsis at the end of the show.   

To the unsuspecting, uncritical viewer, a fairy tale ending awaits a tumultuous life journey if one sends her wish to the right godmother. This is what the show [perhaps, unintentionally] suggests. Sure it highlights the triumph-in-spite-of-all-odds aspect in Venus’ life (and every fan, including myself, wants her to succeed in the end), but it cannot be denied that the same show trivializes our concept of poverty, or poverty alleviation for that matter. It is as if dole outs are enough to assuage an impoverished state. It is as if the poor only need the intervention of a fairy godmother—or giant media network if you will—in order to surpass their miserable condition.         

My reservation about this media construction of Venus’ story is that while it may have a lot of lachrymal value, it glosses over the fact that the plight of the impoverished in rural Philippines is implicated in the problematic social structure of the country. This same social structure, I must hasten to add, is what has pushed Filipinos like Venus’ mother to find work in places like Doha, Qatar where foreign workers are not necessarily shielded from abusive employers and exploitative working conditions. It is the same social structure that has maintained the patronage-oriented dynamics in the Philippine countryside. It is a social structure that no mere dole out from a giant network or any fairy godmother can reform or restructure.

   

What the media construction fails to show [or perhaps is afraid of showing] is that the personal narratives of the dramatis personae involved in this story are inextricably interwoven with our national narrative. As it is, biography is tied to history. The birth of Venus in Doha, Qatar, her family’s struggle in the Philippine countryside, and what many would like to believe as her fairytale ascendance to national prominence are all implicated in the not-so-fairytale-like story of the Philippines, incidentally after the fairytale-like episode called People Power of 1986.     

Venus as the Agent of Herstory   

Notwithstanding the highly problematic signals given off by such media constructions, Venus remains an admirable example of a woman exercising her “creative agency” in a structure that is controlled by elitist interests. So far, she has shown that she knows how to play her cards well, and if she maintains this, success in the international arena would not be farfetched for her—with or without the Universe crown.   

Considering that she does not have the resources that would equal those of her perceived oppressors, she has intelligently used the media attention she has generated to let the public hear her side of the story. If she had chosen to remain silent and timid about her situation, her fans’ and supporters’ noise would have easily faded just a few days after her dethronement. 

   

Admirably, Venus is an intelligent girl. Her interviews with the media exhibit not just her sincerity, but her capacity to articulate in the beautiful vernacular her story—which, because of its human interest value, the media has naturally picked up and recontextualized, sometimes to the point of becoming overboard.     

Many have suggested that she should bring the issue to court, and Venus has not been remiss in considering such suggestion. But she is intelligent enough to explore, with the guidance of her able legal counsels, possibilities beyond the courtroom drama, which would have been lengthy and draining for the 21-year old beauty and her family from Bato, Camarines, Sur.   

Not a few have suggested that she should just “move on” or “let go” and forget about reclaiming the crown, adding that the “legal luminaries” of the Araneta group of companies would make sure they stand firm on their decision to dethrone the crowned Philippine representative to Miss Universe 2010.   

Fortunately for her adoring fans, Venus is her own person and is not to be dictated by just anybody, not even by a former international crown holder, whom Venus claims she regards with utmost respect.   

“Worth fighting for”   

In one of her TV interviews, she says: “This is not about the money. This is not about the crown. This is about my dream…” Thus, in spite of the issues hurled against her by her detractors and what may be regarded as the tentacles of elitism (this especially refers to those parties who easily drop contentious terms as “pragmatism”, “rule of law”, and the like to dissuade Venus from pursuing the case), Venus chose to do what she thought was right—to reclaim a dream that was unceremoniously snagged from her.    

In what may be regarded as a strategic move on her part, she framed her quest to reclaim her right to represent the Philippines in the prestigious Miss Universe beauty pageant in a way that would elicit public sympathy and support for her: “My fight is now more than just chasing a dream. It is about clearing my soiled reputation. It is about standing up for people who are poor and born out of wedlock. It is a fight for acceptance” (“Dethroned Bicol beauty fights for dream”, Philippine Daily Inquirer, 9 April 2010). It is not surprising then that she somehow succeeded.   

Indeed, Maria Venus Bayonito Raj, as my friend Jerry asserted in a pageant forum, is “worth fighting for.”   

(Sincere thanks to Raymond Saldana, Owen Reyes, Bruce Casanova, and Keiji for the images)   

 ###  

Reinstatement of Maria Venus Raj as the Philippine Representative to Miss Universe 2010 Petition

http://www.petitiononline.com/genres5/petition.html
This is an open letter to the Binibining Pilipinas Charities Incorporated (BPCI) seeking for the reinstatement of Maria Venus Bayonito Raj as the Philippine Representative to the Miss Universe 2010.

On the evening of March 29, BPCI released a statement to the media that it was letting newly crowned Binibining Pilipinas Universe 2010 Maria Venus Raj go. Ms. Raj was dethroned purportedly due "inconsistencies" between the information in her birth record and personal accounts of her birth. The open letter tells more.

Insipidity and beauty pageants

Loi Landicho, now known to many in the blogosphere as the political satirist Professional Heckler, was features editor when I took the exams for apprenticeship in the UPLB Perspective, the official organ of the State University’s Los Banos campus.  The year was 1994.

 

For the features exam, Loi foisted at least two alternative topics for examinees to write about. One of the topic choices I remember vividly was Manila’s hosting of the 1994 Miss Universe beauty pageant and the controversies surrounding it. I cannot recall his exact question, but it was that pageant related topic that I chose to work on. On the spot, I scribbled down on at least five sheets of long yellow lined paper my thoughts on the highly talked-about pageant.

 

I only saw the 1994 pageant on our old malfunctioning colored television back in Albay, but having had the youthful audacity of a pageant enthusiast, I could then easily churn out important details of the event and be (pseudo)polemical about the controversies that it somehow invited. It was from factual details stored in my long-term memory that I spun out the analysis of the story. I passed the exam and became a campus journalist of some sort.

 

I was told later on by one of my senior colleagues in the paper that Loi gave me high scores for the exam (which I never confirmed anyway). I would like to believe that it was not so much my prose style that got me into campus journalism-LB style. It was perhaps the fascination for details of a freshman student that probably caught the attention of my would-be editor.

 

In hindsight, I believe it was beauty pageants that actually added texture to my otherwise boring student life and the relatively more interesting life that came after.

 

Unattractive and overbearing at times, I probably lead one of the most uninteresting lifestyles in the queer universe. But thanks to beauty pageants and the nuggets of wisdom—yes, wisdom—they have given me, I have at least been able to experience varying shades and textures of green and grey in my life journey.

 

Beauty pageants have undeniably added flavor to my personal style—whether in the teaching-learning situation or conversation with friends.

 

With their proclivity for impressive and memorable stylized performances, pageants have inspired me to be conscious that my vehicles of expression are as important as what is expressed itself. In my own terms, I had to reinvent the dated journalistic notion that one has to write and speak or communicate to express and NOT to impress. Beauty pageants have taught me that in the market place of ideas, one has to do both—to express AND impress, because victory almost always awaits those who can generate substance and fashion it in style.

 

And when I’m down and troubled and I need a helping hand…I find refuge in talking and acting and playing out anything pageant-y. Pageants are a subject of playful mimicry—whether I’m in the virtual world or the world as we know it biophysically. I sashay my way out of my shell—my study area or the university library thinking I’m a star or the reigning title holder (Of course, except for a very few distracted library habitués, nobody notices because everybody is just so busy dealing with the weight of academic work imposed on him).

 

I would also consider pageants as a semiotic resource—a lens for making sense of the world. Pageants can offer illuminating examples of how one infinitesimally small being in the infinitesimally expanding universe can make his life worth living. Isn’t it that pageants tell us to maintain our grace under pressure, display candor under harsh interrogation, adapt competently to the situation at hand, stand up when we fall (“whether on or off stage”)?

 

On the other hand, they tell us that while victory is always sweet, it is OK to lose because there is life for everybody after a debacle or a failure and that there would definitely be people who will still love you “even if the crown is no longer on your head” or hasn’t even touched your head at all.

 

And more importantly, even if there is truth to the claim that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder but some have more power to behold than others”, one can always celebrate the beauty in oneself. Because celebrating beauty is never the monopoly of the powerful few. Beauty has been has been scattered all over the universe for everyone to witness and feel and yes, play with! The littlest gestures, the slightest movements or simplest poses, the most candid utterances—those devoid of contrived profundity, which is something one would find in this prose, hahaha—they can turn perceived imperfections into something fabulously perfect! And that is beautiful.

 

At this point, it is also a welcome respite from the burden of having to write a 250-page dissertation. It makes me hopeful and excited and exuberant even on an unproductive day. Needless to say, it keeps me sane. 

A Little Act of Terror on the First Sunday of Advent

Somebody threw a firecracker at me last night. Yes, a firecracker.

The firecracker blew up close to my abdominal area. I was a bit hurt by the little explosion, but it didn’t leave any noticeable mark on my skin (I guess my growing belly is thick enough). It did leave a conspicuous piece of evidence, though, by tearing the lower part of the shirt I was wearing last night. It was a relatively costly shirt I bought just more than a month ago when my laundry was piling up in the dormitory. The firecracker also almost tore my favorite slim fit jeans.

The incident, which had been boggling me the whole night, happened at around 9:30 pm while I was inside a jeepney coming from SM North EDSA on its way to the UP Campus (I was seated in front of the public utility vehicle and was close to the driver’s seat). It happened along the street connecting Quezon Avenue to the East Avenue—a route where one quite normally sees the pavements crowded by informal settlers, street kids, and more likely, street gangs. Incidentally, it happened in a quite familiar location in what is touted as the richest city in Metro-Manila.

I had been passing by that route in the past few weeks and it was relatively safe until last night. When that little act of terror happened, I was a bit taken aback. That I could actually be a victim of a firecracker was farthest from my mind on the first Sunday of Advent. While I initially felt disgust towards whoever did such an irresponsible act (I suspect it was committed by one of the street kids or a member of a teen gang), I couldn’t get myself to be so furious to the extent of getting off the jeeney, confronting the group of kids along the street, and reporting the incident to the nearest barangay (village) hall.  Besides, I was also afraid something worse might happen to me if I did all that in a zone where I would be treated as the intruder and never as the victim.

When I sniffed the burnt smell on my shirt and felt the hole on it, I began to imagine the worst that could have happened.  The firecracker could have exploded on my face, but thank God, it didn’t. It could have bruised me, but it only burned and tore my more-than-a-month old maroon polo shirt. It could have been a bomb—which is not impossible given the tense political environment in this country—but it was just a firecracker.

And then my mind swirled and twirled and whirled a bit more.

That could not have happened had I stayed put in the dormitory working on and analyzing my texts on a Sunday afternoon. Or I could have been spared from the incident had I opted to take a cab to the campus and paid ten times the jeeney fare (which is ten Philippine pesos). Or the kids or teens wouldn’t have inflicted that little act of terror on a commuter like me if an Efren Penaflorida or a CNN Hero of the Year were in that community keeping the kids busy with books in a pushcart library. Or they wouldn’t even have bothered playing with firecrackers and inflicting discomfort on passersby had there been a Manny Pacquiao boxing event scheduled at that time. Or they wouldn’t be cramping that part of the city had the local and national executives been busy doing their jobs rather than politicking. Or there wouldn’t have been informal settlers and urban poor causing pedestrians and commuters discomfort had the wealth of this country been equitably distributed!

Or, …I think I have digressed too much.

I guess when the Christmas season is fast approaching, such untoward incidents happen more often.  In a country ravaged by poverty and usual elitist indifference, the poor, I suppose, don’t seem to have much of a choice but to inflict little acts of terror in order to rivet attention from those who they perceive to be in more comfortable stations in life. Unfortunately, their victims, more often than not, are those that aren’t that well off—ordinary people who also struggle in the big city.  Because those who are really comfortable are usually shielded from those little acts of terror in their fancy cars, and perhaps, at this time, are just too busy prettifying their swanky houses with glittering Christmas lights.

(5:38 am, Room 4, Bonifacio Hall Dormitory, UP School of Labor and Industrial Relations)

On gay marriage and the parliamentary struggle

The fear that an LGBT (Lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender) group in the party list system would usher in the erosion of the Filipino family is unfounded.

Of course, the fear emanates from the fact that some sectors of the LGBT community are advocating gay marriage, a position which allegedly poses a potential “threat” to existing legal and constitutional provisions on “the Filipino family.”  (Ang Ladlad, the party list group recently denied recognition by the Commission on Elections, has, in earlier reports, however, clarified that gay marriage is not among its agenda.)

It should be made clear to the public that an LGBT party list group in congress doesn’t necessarily mean a vote for gay marriages. The issue of gay marriage, after all, does not and should not define an LGBT representation in a hall of democracy.

On the one hand, there are other (in fact, more pronounced) forms of discrimination against gay persons in various spheres of public life (work place, school, government offices, etc.) that need to be addressed by such a representation. On the other hand, there is still (a healthy) debate going on among gay circles on the issue of gay marriage. In other words, not all gay people are advocating gay marriage.

I for one am not convinced with the idea of gay marriages.

I do not believe marriage is the only legitimate place or “the holy ground” for the expression of love including consensual, responsible, and yes, passionate, genital expression. To embrace the idea of marriage as the only legitimate ground for such human expression is to submit and be complicit to the heterosexist invention that human love is circumscribed. I don’t think there is anything liberating about that.

What is liberating to me is when respect and recognition are accorded to partnerships that do not necessarily fit within the heterosexist definition of marriage.  Respecting these partnerships would mean not using them as bases for discriminating people when applying for employment or for admission to schools or for promotions in the work setting. Recognizing these partnerships would mean an end to their construction in media and public spaces as objects of spectacle—as curious cases of human intimacy (what is so curious about two people loving each other?) and as targets of ridicule.

Such respect for and recognition of the diversity in human-to-human relationships can only be achieved, though, within a context that is devoid of feudalistic, unequal power relations, which ultimately sustain the hegemony of heterosexism in Philippine society in particular and in human societies at large.

In other words, there are bigger social problems that are beyond the immediate concerns of gay people but that a gay representation in Congress should pursue and address. These social problems (e.g., militarization in the countryside) may appear to be remotely related to what is purported as the “gay cause” (e.g., an end to discrimination), but whose resolution remain significant to the gay cause and other liberatory causes nonetheless. They are problems within which the experiences of Filipino gay people and other minority groups are deeply implicated.

Addressing these social problems through parliamentary struggle and through representation in the Philippine hall of democracy should therefore not be denied of gay people and other minority groups. 

 

"Half-full" and some musings on an early Friday morning

(Written at 1:38 am at Room 4, Bonifacio Hall Dormitory, School of Labor and Industrial Relations, UP Diliman Campus)

It’s 1:38 in the morning and I can’t get myself to sleep.  There are a lot of things going on in my head; chief of them is how to get a chapter on what to me is a rather unexciting period of recent Philippine presidential history over and done with.

Yesterday, I was supposed to resume academic work after a brief vacation in my hometown in Albay. But it was gloomy the whole day in this side of the world, and so was the progress of my writing.

There were a few bright spots though.

 First, I was able to successfully send via facsimile to my home department at NUS a completed form of the renewal of my research scholarship for another year—my last year—an ‘endowment’ without which I would have difficulty surviving in a very expensive city-state.

Second, I was able to procure back issues of the journal called Public Policy, some of whose articles I need to have some sort of an academic handle of the Philippine socio-political context of the last twenty years.

Not to be forgotten was my meeting with Jas—a former student, an aspiring pedagogue, and most likely, a future colleague—who gave me a glimpse into another interesting version of life after getting a UP diploma and who, I’m very glad to know, has shown great interest in education work and how its complexities can be viewed using a disciplined lens. She is now doing her MA in Language Education in the Diliman campus.

Another interesting moment was getting myself (and Jas) suddenly interested in what the ‘museum’ in the Museum Café, located in the (literal) margins of Diliman’s Vargas Museum and the Filipiniana Research Center, has to offer.

Incidentally that afternoon, after sipping hot lemon tea and taking several measured bites of some fancy slice of cake with Jas at the somewhat funky Museum Café, there was the opening of an exhibit of art works featuring youtube star Juana Change in various modes of undress. Her curvaceous, voluptuous body on canvas and in photos tells me that I was right when I foisted sometime ago that “flab is fabulous.”

Body beautiful doesn’t always mean Slimmer’s World or Vicky Belo. (If you are in Quezon City, do visit the exhibit at the Vargas Museum in the UP campus. It is a testament to what art can do in tweaking, if not recreating, reality to the advantage of those deliberately disadvantaged by big business and consumerism. Art thumps advertising this time.)

The icing on the cake offered by that visual feast of an opening exhibit was getting to hobnob with the delight of the (contemporary) Philippine art world. There, Jas and I came face to face, side by side, with a section of the Who’s Who of Philippine Art (thirty six artists were there according to Juana) – a crowd with whom Mr. Carlo J. Caparas, Malacanang’s or Gloria Macapagal Arroyo’s National Artist for Visual Arts and Film, would probably detest hobnobbing.

But perhaps, the highlight of my Thursday was reading Conrado de Quiros’s rather optimistic take on the world economic slump—which has incidentally taken its toll even on scholarship grant packages offered to so-called foreign talents by “posh” global universities. How he capped his article captures the kind of optimism he projects in his usually captivating prose imbued with his characteristic criticality: “Maybe in this hour of want, we may discover abundance.” 

Such point is made resonant by an earlier passage in the piece: “On a still broader plane, I am glad the slump has happened because it forces us to wonder about the things that matter in life. It’s not just a question of settling for less, or even doing more with less, it’s also a question of doing better with other things. If the slump makes us a little less material girls and boys, if it makes us a little more spiritual travelers or seekers, then it’s worth its weight in, well, gold” (“There’s the Rub,” Philippine Daily Inquirer, 5 November 2009).

For some of us whose life stations are too remote from enjoying the guilty pleasures of the rich, the slump is nothing new. It’s same same.  In one of our conversations some time ago, when the world was just starting to come to terms with the reality of an economic slowdown, a friend said that the “crisis” shouldn’t be a problem for the majority of the Filipinos who have known poverty all their lives. She adds, “The Philippines has been in an economic crisis for centuries; what else is new?”

Arguably, the slowdown only poses to be a major problem to those who aspire for or are used to the media-constructed “good life.” And I will have to agree with Mr. de Quiros that the crisis should give the affluent—and even those of us who do not belong to the affluent category but more often than not get deluded by media constructions—time to reflect on “what matters in life.”

But it’s not actually the critical optimism in Mr. de Quiros’s article that struck me the most. It is the portion on developing a sense of wonder and on being a spiritual seeker or traveler that did. And these are apparently recurring themes in his essays with or without an economic crisis at hand.

My 12-hour day trip by bus from Legaspi to Cubao on Wednesday actually rekindled that sense of wonder and I would like to thank Mr. de Quiros for helping me articulate what I had felt throughout the journey.

On my way to the Philippine’s capital region last Wednesday, I realized things haven’t really changed significantly in the regions south of Metro Manila since I left the country to study in a foreign land. No, things haven’t really changed significantly since I started traveling fifteen years ago from Legaspi to the Southern Tagalog region to study communication arts in UP Los Banos.

In the countryside—which easily dwarfs in proportion the business districts of any major city in the Philippines, you still see public school children in worn out uniforms and tired slippers earnestly braving long distances of stony, dusty sidewalks just to be able to get to school, and then you wonder how many of them would enter universities and read the kind of books you are excited to devour at your own pace and during your precious “study time.”

In the countryside, you still see public school buildings ingloriously painted with the names of some self-indulgent local politicians or of a national leader, who, in asserting her legitimacy, makes sure no stone is left unturned, and you wonder whether the many books and articles providing incisive critiques of the personalistic and patronage oriented character of Philippine politics ever get to seep through the Filipino public mind.

In the countryside, you constantly see parents of these school children carrying heavy loads of produce from the farms they till, and you wonder whether topnotch research from the best schools in the country has ever made the lives of these farmers better or lighter.

Still astonished by what one discovers when looking through the glass windows of an air-conditioned provincial bus, I have begun to wonder on the relevance of my research agenda. It is an unwelcome thought especially at this time when I could actually visualize a homestretch in a year’s time. But it is a thought worth pondering nonetheless.

(At this point, I couldn’t get off my mind a question purportedly posed by a student to Dr. Ruanni Tupas when he was still teaching in UP Diliman, “Will Critical Discourse Analysis feed the poor?” Hell, I don’t even know how to deal with that question squarely at this point!)

I don’t know if deluding myself into thinking that I am “ahead of my time” would work this time.  (With candor, I am inclined to think that a “sophisticated” reading of Philippine presidential discourse—in English—is something that would be better appreciated in a more developed Philippine context.)

I am inclined, though, to accommodate the unwelcome thought, that source of disturbance, for a while, if only to keep reminding myself that it will take more than my modest scholarship to create even a minor dent in the Philippine countryside.

 ***