Obama, to hope

“To dream perchance to hope:  to hope, perhaps to endure.”

Two years ago, when Barack Obama was still a shadow in the political scene, a friend exclaimed: “Obama will be the next US president”.  The name was unheard of.  But what prompted the research about the name was the curiousity why this friend  exclaimed it as if it were gospel truth.

Obama has been synonymous with hope, and its  audacity every time he  speaks, so the reasearch materials revealed.  But history is replete with hopeful stories which turned-out tragic.  Hitler weaved the Aryan myth. Pol Pot of Cambodia peddled the dream of returning to the pure farming society.  Karl Marx had his utopia.  

Is not dream a stuff of all men, black or white, poor or rich?  To hope, and saying it, seems more of a cliche than a kernel of truth.  So why should  his message propel him to the presidency?  How could  he defeat the star-power of the Clintons?  So the endless musings went.

Obama’s dream may not be in the same genre with Hitler’s nor Pol Pot’s nor Marx.  The three have transformed history with gory footnotes, chronicled lately by CNN’s show “SCREAM BLOODY MURDER”, courtesy of Christiane Amanpour’s incisive journalism.  

But there have been great men.   If  Obama wants to align his dream with that of the transformative virtues of Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Theresa,  then his would be a mere glimmer in the sunny light of the two modern heroes.  Should he be likened to John F. Kennedy with his Camelot or Franklin D. Roosevelt with his New Deal, two men who stirred the imagination of  Americans, and yes, the world?  Then Obama may be a mere promise which may or may not happen.

History is replete of biographies, in which  a hero weaves of dreams, dreams that propel most men to action, to materialize the hope.  Obama may not be like these men, but it does not mean he is a lesser mortal.

The research about Obama, prompted by the friend who exclaimed his name, led to many reading materials.  And then the glare of the political campaign and the attendant video news coverage sprung to every living rooms throughout the world the now byword BARACK OBAMA.  The pathos of Obama’s message is not merely the audacity when he spells the word hope.  Men, several of them, dead or still alive, deliver the message of hope equally powerful as Obama does.  There have been great men who transformed the course of humanity men who pursued their dreams. 

The poignancy of his message may lie  in his manner of speaking, in a cool cadence of words, words that ordinary mortals can indentify with.  When he speaks, he is not like the great orator Cicero, nor your politician who promises the skies and stars.  He speaks with the language the man in the street understands and could identify with.

 Take his victory speech, when he said to this effect, “And to those in the far corners in the globe who are huddled over a transistor radio”. That part of the speech reveals that this Obama is not only an American, but the global man who exploits the internet but who still knows that in the far corners of the globe,  there are unfortunate souls who are not wired to the virtual village but are aware of the events as the community gather over a transitor radio.  This image is played out a thousand, if not million times here in the Philippines.

 True indeed, whilst the members in the American family may have internet accounts,  there are many out there in the remote areas of the planet whose source of information is the transistor radio that runs on a battery as the electric power is a luxury that they get to experience only when they are in the city.

And let his reply to the economic recession rings: “The cliff is steep, and the climb is perilous, but we will surmount.”  Here is a man so candid that the economic problem is indeed not an easy task to solve.  Honesty of heart, transparency of thought, these the man in the street take to heart.

Obama has a clear understanding of human nature.  More, he has a solid grip of the human situation, as an American, as of Kenyan descent, and as resident once in Indonesia.  Coming from a white mother and a black father, he has the rare opportunity of seeing the world in two prisms, and having done so, succeeds in synthesizing a dream that both the blue and red states identify with. His message is color-blind.

But come to think of it, heroes, great men, or  men who evokes hope, these men are primus inter pares, not necessarily of their individual worth but of historical moment that calls for heroism, of hope amid hopelessness. To paraphrase Wilhelm Freidrich Hegel:” Great men are not products of their own creation; they are mere creatures of the historical moment”.  John McCain may not have lost to a superior candidate; with Iraq, the economic woes, and Bush oh so many gaffes,  the situation he was thrust into simply wrote the epitaph of his presidential run.  Obama simply put the last nail in the coffin, but it was Bush’s mediocrity that  dashed the Republican’s hope.

“The cliff is steep and the climb perilous but we will surmount”.  Leadership is not about carrying guns like the cowboy Bush.  The affairs of governance are simply vast that no one mortal could handle them all.   Leadership is about inspiration, of bringing a message of hope, and weaving dreams, visions which ordinary mortals understand, and have affinity with.  In times of peril, the message of hope calm the nerves, and the harbinger of the message, propels men into action.  Obama may be it, the message and its harbinger. 

But history is still the final arbiter.

 

revisiting EDSA revolution

The life of the nation does affect one’s life. Twenty two years ago, the Filipinos taught the whole world the ways of democracy which even Mahatma Gandhi did not succeed. The EDSA revolution of 25 February 1986 not only blew the winds of hope for the country but also a new life for so many Filipinos, including mine.

Ferdinand Marcos ruled with seeming impunity from 1965 up to 1986. His excessive greed, together wit his wife and cronies, plundered the treasury, militarized the bureacracy, jailed the opposition, and for the lesser known activists, summary execution. The Marcos years were so dark that Filipinos, resilient as the are, only wished that one day, the light at the end of the tunnel would shine, unknowing that, they would later break open from the dark tunnel themselves.

In August 21, 1983, Ninoy Aquino, the de facto leader of the opposition, came back from his exile in the United States, and braved the warnings and veiled threats of death. Indeed, at the tarmac of the now known as Ninoy Aquino Internal Airport, the Filipino hero of the modern times, met his untimely demise, before the eyes, if not in the hands of the military, that ironically, allegedly was sent to secure him.

But Ninoy’s death saw the birth of spirit of activism that swept across the country. The universities opened their gates so students could transform their ideals into practice as they braved gases, tanks, and worse, summary execution. But what started as a brushfire in the campus turned into intense fire that spread to all levels of society – the poor, the students, the middle class, the church, and even the business elite. Not even the intensified summary executions could douse the searing embers of revolution.

There was no room for apathy amid the call to oust the dictator. In the campus, I saw my friends joining the armed struggle led by the Communist Party of the Philippines. At the early years of their lives, these brilliant students died. Others joined the daily mass protests in the streets, mass movements which were fondly called “parliamentary of the streets”. As for me, I was so skinny I could not possibly carry much more fire an armalite. Besides, I have had in-depth study of communism and marxism and came into a conclusion that the dictatorship of the proletariat is but a mere fiction, for among the members, there is always bound to rise a man of sterling and royal character who will lead, if not dictate the group. As for me, I wrote, and edited the university paper and had my regular opinion column in the local tabloid. The write-ups must have enraged the military that years after, I found out that I was in the order of battle, and that meant, I could have been randomly chosen from among the list, and be, using the lingo of the times, “salvaged” which actually meant being “dispensed with”, or killed without a trace.

Days before February 25, 1986, Gen. Fidel Ramos and then Defense Secretary Juan Ponce Enrile hatched a plan to stage coup which was however discovered before it’s execution. The two and their few men occupied a major military camp and decided to put up a fight to the death. But against the military artillery of Marcos, the group could have been subdued easily, if not for the miracle that later on unfolded.

Cardinal Sin, in a radio station, Radio Veritas, urged his flock to mass around Camp Crame to protect the coup plotters from a certain slaughter as the marines and their tanks were inching their way to quell the military mutiny. Initially, in thousands, then millions, the Filipinos gathered around the military camp to protect , ironically, the coup plotters. Broadcast throughout the world were scenes of people kneeling on the streets and praying the rosary to block the incoming tanks, while others gave flowers to the government soldiers.

A day before, there was uncertainty. It appeared the bloodbath would ensue. Ferdinand Marcos and his ever loyal cousin, Gen. Fabian Ver, then the Chief of Staff, had ordered to use force to retake the camp. February 24, 1986, my friends who were already in the underground movement could not be found anymore. They were preparing for a civil war. In a meeting among student leaders in the school newspaper’s office, those who opted to wage war with the pen had decided to bear arms when the shots in Camp Crame would be fired. When I saw into the eyes of my friends, I saw nothing but a resolved that I have not seen before, a resolve that they would even forget their families who would be against carrying arms. Before we disbanded, my group who were student leaders in the university agreed that should there be bloodbath the following day, we would form a group and join the ensuing civil war.

That night, I was so appeased with myself knowing that my short stint in this universe would be part of worthy cause. But alas, when I woke up very late in the day of February 25, 1986, the Filipinos breathed the fresh air of freedom. The rosaries halted tanks, the roses melted the hearts of the Marcos loyal army; in a word, the unarmed army of nuns, priests, young, old, poor, middle class, and the elite vanquished the hearts of the fully-armed military. The hearts of the military men were subdued with the idea of peace and compassion , and as the saying goes, when the heart is captured, the mind collapses. In a bloodless revolution, the Filipinos made history by ousting a dictator.

That day, I was giving shake hands and high fives to my group. Deep in our hearts, we knew that our pen won over the sword, the idea of freedom triumphed over tyranny.

Months after, in June 1986, I started my serious study of law. My friends pursued their respective careers. The concerns of the country took a backseat. From my pen, for so many years, flowed only legal thesis and briefs.

… A re-examination

Little did we realize that while we have been busy building our respective careers, the politicians have squandered the gains of EDSA revolution.

President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, in 2004, was my choice over Fernando Poe, Jr. But when GMA was sworn into office, scams after scams have been hounding her administration. The fertilizer scam in which funds for agricultural programs were diverted for the election campaign , the most expensive Diosdado Macapagal highway, and now the ZTE deal in which a project which is worth $130 millions ballooned to $300 millions due to over-price.

But what is alarming is not the corruption. In democracies throughout the globe, corruption hounds governments, even in the US. But when the fundamental idea of democracy and the rule of law is assaulted, then the administration reeks of authoritarian tendencies. The democracy which EDSA 1986 is under seized. President Arroyo issued Presidential Proclamation granting her emergency powers without concurrence from congress. She issued executive order not allowing government officials to attend senate hearings without the consent of the president, thereby curtailing the powers of the legislative branch and an affront of the people’s right to be informed. And even as the Supreme Court nullified these orders, she flaunted executive power by defying the decisions. The spate of extra-judicial killings of political activists. The latest was when Jun Lozada, the star witness of the ZTE scam, arrived at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport, he was abducted by military personnel who allegedly, in the style of Ninoy’s assassination, were sent to secure the former.

The tentacles of dictatorship, wherever and whenever, they emerge, should be cut and disabled. Any attempt at curtailing freedom must be opposed. We had our lessons in Marcos when due to our initial apathy as a nation, he mangled democracy and strangled us to fear and submission.

Should there be a repeat of EDSA, no one could tell. The original EDSA was not spawned with one idea nor by one group nor by one event. That phenomenon was a confluence of events which not one group nor ideology nor event can claim to be the parent. Let EDSA be an orphan whose moment of victory is claimed by many parents . And another EDSA? Not one can give birth to it. But whatever may be the outcome, there is a need for us to build our dreams alongside the concerns of our country. We have to get involved in the most effective way we can. It took us twenty years to oust a dictator, and regain democracy, it will only take a year to unmake democracy with the acquiescence of the people.

historical movements

Time and again, the debate rages: what determines  movements, historical moments or men?

Two years ago, when Barack  Obama is not known here in the Philippines, a friend of mine told me, after his brief visit in the United States, that the next US president would be Barack Obama.  I asked what party does he belong?  He quipped: Democrat.  In a staccato fashion, I unleashed arguments that Hillary Clinton would be the nominee and would trounce the republican in a general election.  Although as for Hillary ,  there is a perception that she will say anything just to win, her intelligence and experience is a plus for America, and the rest of the world.

Little did I realize now that the prediction of my friend is becoming a reality.  Barack  Obama, save perhaps for the super delegates, will lord it over Hillary.

The US, for the last seven years and more, has been led by a Texan Cowboy who thinks more by his holster than his brain.  George Bush presidency has been marked by incompetence and misplaced priorities, waging wars, then doling-out billions  to war-torn countries while being unable to halt the rising unemployment, and the home mortgages crisis.  All these add-up to the historical moments the Americans are revolting against, and are wanting to rectify, pronto, through the polls.

The confluence of events, that is, the present historical moment, is giving rise to a movement made flesh by Barack Obama, he who represents  vision, and hope.  From 9/11, and onwards,  Bush has created his own historical counterpoint: hope instead of the present dispair, and vision instead of blinded pursuit for nuclear arsenal that does not exist.

The Bush debacle is opening the call for clear vision, for a battlecry that can lead the citizens from the mess the leaders have created.  Between Hillary  and Obama, the latter is the natural counterpoint for Bush.  Hillary may have the experience and the wit, but she is not a fresh alternative.  She is not a break from the present, and the US under her helm will still carry the guilt of the past.  Obama is a fresh face, a visionary who inspires  and the light  upon which the rest pin their hope.

The fund raising is a good indicator.  Obama raises campaign funds from small donors who come in droves; Hillary has big but few donors who are very much part of the status quo.

The historical moments have produced the movement and Obama is riding on its crest.Bush has led the nation to discontent, dissent, if not dispair.  People want a new vision which is a total departure from the status quo.  Obama represents that vision. And when the multitude show support to the  campaign coffers, no obstacle can stop its parade to victory.  Anyone who  stands on the way will just drown and sweep ashore.

Obama is not  the creator but a mere creature of the movement: He happens to best exemplify the dream the multitude have for the country.  JFK  may have endeared to a lot of Americans.  But I wonder what would have become of him if not for the historical moment of his time: the emergence of television.  If not for that medium, his sound bites could not have been heard, and his royale presence could have gone unnoticed by the world without the tv sets.

In 1986, in the Philippines, Cory Aquino, a non-politician, once a mere housewife, was catapulted to highesh office , not necessarily of her own merit, but the historical givens that ignite in the multitude the fire to replace a dictatorship.  Cory, a non-politician, a mere housewife (pardon the modifier mere, but it indeed captured the sentiment of the times), represents something fresh, a break of the past, and the harbinger of a new vision.

JFK.  Cory Aquino. Martin Luther King.  These men lived in a historical moment that  created the movement which catapulted them to prominence.  They were icons of the movements of their times.

Barack Obama maybe a mere creature of the movement that resents the historical moment George Bush has led the Americans into.  But do not obstruct the creature in his march to victory.  He represents the movement that is incessant, unstoppable.  You cannot stop the flow of the surging waves: the oppositors will just be swept ashore.

the fallacy of republicanism

I resolved not to comment at least on print medium on political events anymore. The last time I did way back in 1986 when I was still in college, the university president summoned me and the military listed me in the order of battle . Besides, any political comment will have to involve constitutional issues, and owing to my daily dose of legal briefs, I have enough, so I thought.

But the recent political brouhaha in the Philippines leave me with no recourse but to play political pundit once again, even if only for this issue.Last night, I slept not late in the evening, but early hour of the morning as I was glued to the tv monitor. Flashed in the screen were the faces of our congressmen as they explained, in a nominal voting, their votes to unseat the present Speaker of the House, Jose De Venecia. JDV as he is fondly called, has been speaker for five (5) terms, a record in the legislative branch. He did so by astute political manuevering, patronage, concessions, accomodations, and puppetting for the President. He shielded President Gloria Arroyo from several impeachment attempts. He is the perfect icon of traditional politician.

Lately, however, he fell from grace, and last night, he was finally shut off from the corrigidors of power. His idealist son was the whistle blower of an anomalous transaction of the government with a Chinese company, ZTE, involving an over-price of around US $200,000,000.00. The testimony of his son before the senate traced the anomaly to the spouse of the incumbent president, Mike Arroyo. Exposed to the searching light of media scrutiny, the Arroyo’s ego was bruised, and revenge must be made, and indeed, it was had last night.

Jose de Venecia delivered an extemporaneous, albeit scathing speech, outlining how he helped President Arroyo for almost two decades, and the anomalous transactions that he has personal knowledge, and by reading between the lines, he helped cover-up. Despite the two decades of friendship (or is it alliance?) , like Ceasar being stabbed by Brutus, the flaming arrows of tricks and deceptions, hit him from all angles, and to cap it all, even from the people he once considered friends.But more than the attack on the president, the speech hightlighted the fallacy of republicanism, the same fallacy that I took note when I was still taking up political philosophy.

In a republican state, sovereignty resides and emanates from the people. But the people elect their representatives and leaders to run the state. To check the abuses of the leaders, three branches of government are set up: congress, to enact laws; the president to execute the laws; and the judiciary, to interpret the laws. This is the system of check and balance necessary to keep democracy throbbing, and prevent the consolidation of power in one branch. Once power is concentrated in one branch, the other branches lose their independence, and democracy collapses. Then, it is not the voice of the people that governs, but the voice of the president.

Yet the Congress and the Supreme Court are beholden to the President. The power to appropriate comes from Congress, but the disbursement must come come from the president. During the impeachment proceedings, congressmen had to rally to the president or else the pork barrel, the money for their favorite projects, would not be released by the president. As pointed out by Jose de Venecia, the congressmen have to kneel before the sub-alterns of the president before the budget be released.

When a branch of government depends on the other to finance the projects, you can always expect the consolidation of power in the president. President Arroyo, having been raised in the corridors of power when her father was once the president, knows exactly how to consolidate power.

Last night, President Arroyo and her minions, err puppies, ousted de Venecia, and enthroned another pup, Boy Nograles. I do not like de Venecia, but my blood boils with the wanton display and arrogance of power. President Arroyo’s sons virtually installed Speaker Nograles, and consideing the partonage politics, the latter has to lick the hand of the president. Speaker Nograles has to bow to the dictates of the president or he will soon follow his predecessor, to the exit door. Any pretense then of republican democracy is a sham, a fallacy.

I dread the idea of a president consolidating power. The last time was President Marcos, who, having tested martial law powers, never let go of the throne until he was forcibly evicted by the repository of power – the people. Look what happened during Marcos time: the economy was plundered, civil service militarized, and the people who opposed, killed. Worse, the culture of corruption spread like cancer cells that have metastasized.

There is need to strengthen the fences between the three branches of government. Strong fences make good neighbors. Destroy the fences, you lose republicanism. But strong fences make a good democracy. Allowing the congressman to have pork barrels open them to the bait of the president. Stop the pork barrel, and the president would have no fishing rod with which to strangle the independence of the Congress.

It took me several years to speak in open against Marcos. This time, I cannot let history repeat itself.

Let me be a pundit once more.

jihad in the Philippines?

During my secondary education, our family lived near the military camp. We had a store where customers could drink until late at the night. In that store, many secrets were revealed, and many dreams shared aloud. When soldiers drink, they either talk about their exploits with native lasses or their war adventures.

It was still in the mid-70’s when we had the store. The common tale soldiers loved to recount was how, in a war frenzy, they set the entire village in Sulu ( a province in Mindanao, Philippines) on fire, followed by aerial bombing. When the bombing was over, the infantry would charge, not so much to fight, but to claim the booty and loot of war. Outnumbered and ill-equipped, the muslims, mostly civilians, were charred to death, and the living, especially the women, were raped. To cap the day, they roasted human parts, and the ears were their favourite. They had the burning houses for a bonfire.

The story was retold several times that even in moments of stupor, these soldiers must have told the truth. I had this story confirmed by a veteran who did not drink. But according to the soldiers, they were only avenging the gruesome deaths their comrades met in the hands of muslim fighters.

In the early seventies, most parts of Mindanao were war torn – between the Ilaga and the Barracuda. The Ilaga consisting of Christian militias were as brutal as their muslim counterpart, the Barracudas – they would skin each other to death, literally and figuratively. And in the cycle of violence, it is difficult to point who fired the first shot. Imagine the circle: there is no clear beginning and ending.

Now and then, the muslim-christian animosities spark, and the civilians are mostly the casualties. Just like the circle, it appears to be without end.

There have been many peace talks already. The Moro National Liberation Front led by Nur Misuari entered into a peace pact with the government of the Philippines when ex-President Fidel Ramos signed the agreement. The Moro Islamic Liberation Front of then Hashim Salamat is forging a peace accord. In the past, when the material rewards of the peace pact are depleted, the deeper differences prevail, and the first victim of the peace pact is the agreement itself: it is more observed in its violations.

Peace accord among leaders is most welcome; in fact, any attempt at peace should always be encouraged. But peace pacts without the people in the ground truly understanding each other, of having cultural tolerance, is a piece of document without the spirit of peace. The resolution of the Mindanao muslims and Christian conflict hinges on bridging the cultural divide.

Last weekend, I listened with undivided interest the true story of a retiree who lived his life virtually in Bacolod, Lanao del Norte ( Mindanao, Philippines). He has been living among the muslims. One time, there was this Christian who challenged a physically-handicapped muslim. The latter could not obviously fight. This retiree told the Christian to apologize because humiliating a muslim is like killing him. Death is even better than shame for the muslims. The Christian did not listen. Months after, he was shot. Among Christians, challenging one to a fair fight is not as big an issue as killing. But that is not so for the muslims.

While in college, I was in a classroom of eight students. So we had a round table during classes. Of the eight, there were six muslims, and one of them was so pretty that I could not help but stare at her. Knowing how sensitive and protective muslims are with their women, I apologized to the other muslims in the class. I did not stare at her anymore.

The Christians too have axe to grind, so to speak. One time, a muslim came to me to have three death certificates notarized. The death certificates have glaring similarities: three persons, who died under the care of one doctor in one hospital, and their deaths were registered with the same local civil registrar. Worse, the three had pending criminal cases. The death certificates were used to dismiss the criminal cases of drug pushing, carnapping, and rape. Indeed, there are muslims who have wronged Christians with seeming impunity.

We live in a world under different banners of faith. Often, our religions determine our culture. Our cultural intolerance has killed millions of people, during the Crusades in the dark ages, the Holocaust, the genocide in Darfur, in Kosovo, and many other places. One day, our religious intolerance would lead to our extinction.

There is a need to understand the other cultures so that we can relate to them accordingly. With communication comes understanding. Fortunately, we are living in an era of fast and efficient communication. There is the cell phone, internet, fax, radio, cable tv. If we just reach out, there is no reason why we can’t understand each other, and therefore tolerate the differences.

However, there are people who choose to kill, not necessarily to seek religious or historical justice, but simply to promote their interests. In the town of Malabang, Lanao del Sur, still a part of Muslim Mindanao, it is said that the powers-that-be intentionally cut electric power so the folks will remain unconnected with the outside world. Without cable tv, internet, and other mass media, the people are kept in the dark purposely to keep them ignorant, and therefore, easy to mislead.

The worms thrive best in the dark. Exposed to the shining light of education, the folks would embrace cultural tolerance. The government should cut across Muslim Mindanao with a railway system, road networks, and information infrastructure so those muslims who want to keep their folks in the dark will be exposed. The government must cut-open the isolated areas.

Lest we be charged with being naïve, the groups that resist change for their own vested interest, to them the guns must be aimed. To these groups, the Abu Sayyap, Jemaah Islamiah, and the Osamas belong. For them, the war must be waged.

soul for sell

During Martial Law, former Philippine Vice-President Emmanuel Pelaez, exclaimed: “What is happening to our country general?” He was of course referring to the spate of killings and the failed attempt at his life. With the massive vote-buying during the October 29, 2007 barangay elections, one cannot help but join in the refrain. Indeed, what is happening to the country.

Democracy is based on the precept that a state is formed among free men. Republicanism in turn is a democratic government that allows the free people to choose the leaders who shall run the state. Take out freedom, and democracy becomes a farce.

A friend texted me that the candidate he supported lost due to vote-buying. The eventual winner gave P500.00 to the voters, and even the leaders of the opposing candidate were bought. On the eve of the elections, the leaders deserted their candidate after being given money by the opponent. Of course, their were idealists who run but lost miserably due to lack of funds.

It his hard to imagine why a candidate has to spend P300,000.00 to win a seat which compensates him only P60,000.00 annually or P180,000.00 for the three-year term. The only way to recoup the election expenses is to steal government coffers. One politician would even tell his constituents that they should not expect help after all the votes were bought, and they have to wait until the next elections.

Vote-buying, and the other side of the coin, vote-selling, make a mockery out of elections. In this situation, the elite who has the economic power simply consolidates its grip over the people by having political power. The status quo makes it difficult for the poor to run while making it easier for the rich to plunder the treasury with impunity. After all, money wins elections. And the more these leaders plunder the state, the poor becomes poorer, and the more they become vulnerable to vote buying, and the politicians’ grip over the poor getting stronger. Karl Marx, in this sense is right: The economic superstructure determines consciousness, including politics.

Ask a voter why he sells his vote, more often the reason ranges from simple need to purchase rice to utter cynicism in the system. A day before the election, the ball boys in our tennis club were absent; they were there lining up in the gate of a candidate to receive the price for their votes. For them, the P200.00 they receive would translate to two days food on the table. When you argue against hunger, don’t expect to win, unless with your argument, you offer them food. For them, the issue is not about the ideals of democracy and good governance; rather, it is surviving today, and let tomorrow worry itself.

 

Why this piece is titled soul for sell? The freedom to choose is the most valuable freedom in a democracy. If you take out this freedom the state is bereft with a moral authority for governance. The people in turn have no right to expect good governance. Like Faust, the people have sold their souls to the devil, err politician. So they should not expect heaven for a government. And why should they sell their soul? In a situation when your life is threatened with hunger, there is no sense talking about tomorrow, good governance, and even the afterlife. The need is here and now. Only the would-be-saints can talk about paradise in the face of gnawing hunger.

But perhaps, we have to be saints if we want to get out from this vicious cycle of vote-buying, and plunder by the politicians for them to buy votes, economic debacle, and the poor becoming more vulnerable to sell their votes. The country needs martyrs and saints in us. This act of martyrdom is simply refusing to sell the vote in the face of wrenching hunger. This way, we may redeem our souls, and our nationhood.

how to cheat in the election

Don’t get me wrong. I am not writing this to encourage you to cheat election in the Philippines. Two days before the May 14, 2007 election, I was commissioned by the Liberal Party , a dominant opposition party, to lecture its poll watchers. The poll watchers were partisans so I focused on how to counter cheating, and how else can you counter it if you do not know the schemes.

My lecture was a combination of the Omnibus Election Law and the experiences I have had. Here how it went.

1. SLEEPERS LOSE - He who wakes up late will lose. The law says that the Board of Election Inspector (BEI) may convene at 6:00 o’clock in the morning and may open the ballot box to prepare the election paraphernalia at 6:15 a.m. The precinct is open to the voters at 7:00 o’clock in the morning. The opening and closing of the ballot box at this time is crucial. If the poll watcher for a political party is not around, it is easy to put filled-up ballots in the compartment of the ballot box for the valid votes. A watcher who arrives late will only legitimize the voting in that precinct when in fact cheating has been done.

So what time a watcher should go to the polling place? Five o’clock in the morning. I heard an uproar from my listeners. That is too early. Actually, it is not. Note that the official time for the polling place is the time determined by the chairman of the BEI. The chairman can adjust the watch in advance so that the time when the ballot box may be opened and closed will be earlier than the standard time. If you arrive at 6:00 a.m., the watch of the chairman may be already 6:15 a.m. So the ballot box has been opened and closed. The watcher’s job is now fiat accompli.

Based on my monitoring, the army of the poll watchers I lectured arrived at the polling places around 5:00 o’clock in the morning.

2. THE DAYTIME CHEATERS – There are four cheating schemes that may be done during the voting time from 7:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.

a. THE OPEN BALLOT – a voter who has sold his ballot will vote in tandem with another voter who will check each other’s ballot. The law says that filling-up of the ballot must be done within the secrecy folder. A voter may not show his ballot to another. The poll watcher should see to it that the voter will not show his ballot to another inside the polling place nor should the voter be allowed to roam around nor go out of the voting area.

b. THE CARBON PAPER AND CAMERA - the voter who has been bought must show proof that he has voted for the candidate-buyer. When he fills-up his ballot, there is a carbon paper which will show the names he voted for. Or, if he goes high-tech, he can take a picture of his filled-up ballot using the cell phone with camera.

c. THE FLYING VOTER - I have reviewed the masterlist of voters of the Comelec, at least in my area, and found out that there are still registered voters who have been long dead, or have been out of town. Using the names of these voters, an impostor may vote in behalf of the dead. A watcher, if he is not sure of the identity of the voter, may challenge the voter, and the BEI is obligated to ask for identification card from the voter. But the identification card is easy to secure. You execute an affidavit about your identity and you can secure a postal ID. You can even have a fake ID which can easily pass as genuine to an untrained eye. Besides, these voters may stampede within the 30-meter radius at around 3:00 p.m. , the close of voting hours. However, if they are within that radius, they will be allowed to vote. Considering their number, the stampede will cause the watchers to relax on their identity challenge.

d. CADENA DE AMOR – Otherwise translated, the chain of love, which is a misnomer because this is a chain to perpetrate cheating. The scheme goes this way. One voter will get the original ballot but will keep it and instead use the fake ballot. The original ballot will be filled-up and given to the next voter in the chain. That voter gets his ballot, but drops the now filled-up ballot of the previous voter. The chain goes on. This is easy actually to check. The serial number of the ballot must coincide with the ballot that a voter fills-up. However, watchers usually, after several hours, get tired, and the job is left alone to the chairman of the BEI who is the usual chief implementor of this scheme.

3. THE NIGHT OWLS - they operate after the voting hours, when everybody, including the public is already sleepy and tired. They usually operate after midnight. Hereunder are the different species of the night owls.

a. THE ILLITERATE CHAIRMAN - when the night draws near, and everybody is weary and fatigued, the chairman will have an adrenaline surge, pumped-up with his desire to enforce his scheme. Suddenly, the chairman won’t know how to read anymore. If the ballot says ‘ESCUDERO’, he can read it as ‘DEFENSOR’. The watchers who are already sleepy do not have the energy to stand at the back of chairman when he reads the ballot.

b. THE TALLYIST - when the eyes are not watching, the one in-charge of the tally sheet will simply tally a vote to his favored candidate, even if that vote should have been credited to another.

c. THE SWITCHER - suddenly, a black-out occurs. When there is no light, the night owls operate. The chairman who has the filled-up ballots under his sleeves, will switch the ballots. You can secure the ballots for a fee from the COMELEC operatives.

 

d. THE SNATCHER – human energy can endure that much only. Beyond the 24 hour’s duty, he will snap somehow. When the ballot box is transported from the polling precinct to the canvassing area, there would be a tendency that the watcher won’t watch the ballot box, and lo and behold, the ballot box is snatched and replaced with another whose contents have been prepared by a candidate or political party.

3. BIG-TIME CHEATERS – This is now the turn of the “dagdag-bawas ” operative. When the election returns are canvassed, the comelec official who has been paid will simply put a zero and the cheating becomes exponential. If a favored candidate has a 52 in the election return, a zero will be added and the number is now 520. If this comelec official is caught, he will simply charge it to clerical error of the BEI and not his.

The schemes outlined above depend largely on human frailty. It is not easy to be on guard of the election proceeding when a watcher gets too weary and sleepy as the counting can go on for hours, day and night. Computers actually can do the job. But the Election Computerization Law has been gathering dust for almost ten years now. It seems that no one, except the people, would want it implemented. The present system depends largely on human endurance. However, a poll watcher cannot simply last for 24 hours duty. Along the way, he will loosen his guard. If you computerize the system, you are taking out the human factor, and the room for cheating becomes slim and in fact, the only way to cheat is to hijack the computer system which can be easily detected. Understand then why our politicians abhor the computerization.

election 101

I thought that being part of a province-wide campaign core for three elections have taught me the ABC of elections. I now realize that it’s one thing to be a planner, but it’s entirely different to be the foot soldier. The arm-chair politician may have the loftiest of ideas but the best idea is nothing if it is not tested, felt, and sold in the marketplace. And the marketplace is in the mountains, farmlands, and the slum areas where ideals clash diametrically with the stark realities of having to survive on a daily basis. How can you talk of ideals when the mouths need to be feed?

Two decades ago, when my learning in the university had so fired-up my ideals that I almost went underground, the thought of giving dole-outs to gain votes was abomination of what democracy stands for. But as the years passed, and my experiences in political campaigns are added to my resume, I am afraid I am losing grip of those ideals I once fervently espoused.

It was in 1994 when my partner in the law firm urged me to run for the provincial board member, a position in the provincial legislative council. I had the chance of winning considering that I had three municipalities which I considered as bailiwicks. But knowing that money had to be given to voters, I declined. The right of suffrage is so sacred that it should not be bought in the market just like a commodity.

Democracy is premised that every man is free, and his political decisions are not restrained by economic want. You take away this freedom, you virtually erase the basis of democracy, and the novel idea that the constitution is the social contract of free men. Even God has given us the free will, so that we can choose between right and wrong.

For one week straight, we went around campaigning. Where there are people gathered, we stopped, heard their woes, and then we promised to work on these problems. But the promises we made did not ring on them. They have heard litanies of promises, but their plight have not been alleviated. They have ceased dreaming, and much more to believe in the dreams politicians weave and dangle before them. Nope, they are not hopeless of the system. Hopelessness is a mere negative energy of hope. What they have of the system is apathy, the “nothing-matters-attitude”.

So when we went near them, they would ask money to buy liquor, some for medicines, and still others for any reason they can concoct. In short, when you go near the voters during the campaign period, they want to skin your hide. It is only during the campaign period the people can get even with politicians. The rest of the year, it is the politician that would bleed-white the resources of the voters.

When these voters ask for money, I am almost tempted to tell them, “Wait, we have not been in power yet, we did not get any of your money”. More often, I was almost gripped with the surge to tell these voters that you deserve your politicians. But during election period, the voters are the customers, so they are always right.

When people are not even assured of food for the next meal, you don’t expect ideals; that is reserved for the saints and mystics who can divine earthy realities during fasting. But let us face it. The people don’t have the fortitude of saints. If they miss one meal, they cringe on their stomachs, and look for food. And if the hunger becomes unbearable, they forget even the laws that could lock them in jail. In the Philippines, hunger incidence is the highest in Asia. Do you expect then a meaningful election?

This election, the people expect a windfall of cash. And if you cannot deliver, they won’t vote for you, even if you have the most impressive credentials. To them, a brilliant and a dumb politician are alike. The only difference is that the brilliant one robs the public coffers with the niceties of the laws, just like what former President Ferdinand Marcos did; the dumb ones like Erap Estrada go to jail even before they can enjoy the loot.

True enough, there are still voters who vote based on conscience. But these are the people whose basic needs are met. Karl Marx may have been mistaken in his prescription, but the diagnose that the economic superstructure determines political consciousness cannot be more true. In a country where the people living below the poverty line accounts for 70% of the population, the voice of the thinking voters is lost in the wilderness. In a popular democracy, the voice of the multitude prevails.

I am not running for any political position yet. I am campaigning for my candidate, who throughout his voting record, has refused to receive a penny from a politician. His record in public service has been sterling and unblemished. But come lection day, money has to be doled-out. Otherwise, he does not stand a chance of winning. For him, it is a bitter pill to swallow, but swallow he must.

 

This election has been a trial run for the political career I am building. Come that time, I may have to kiss goodbye to the ideals of democracy I once held in my youth. Ironically, have to abandon the ideals in order for me to join the bigger democratic debate.

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Tuesday May 8, 2007 – 02:00pm (CST) Edit | Delete

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politics by anecdotes

1. It’s political season in the Philippines. Anecdotes would, to my mind, offer a clear picture of the political landscape here. So let me share some, in the hope that we can have lucid interval in the otherwise insane political realities.

2. The Philippine Congress is bicameral in nature, closely following the Amercan model, owing greatly to the historical fact that Phippines was once an American colony. The Philippine Senate and the House of Representatives were once populated with great statemen and learned men of letters and law. We had the eminent Claro M. Recto, Jose Diokno, Wigberto Tanada, Jovito Salonga, Arturo Tolentino, and others. We used to addresse them as “Honorables” , befitting of their stature. Lately however, comedians, action stars, [and God forbid, a boxer who has not even finished secondary education wants to run also] are now in the Congress. There was this congressman who said in his speech, “I will cementated the road from Cagayan de Oro to Bulua, and vice-versa”. Now tell me, should we call them “Honorables”? . I may have to take bonamine tablet, an anti-vomitting prescription, before I can pronounce the word.

3. My former law office partner was once a Vice-governor of the province, and went on to become a Congressman. I was privy to the inner sanctum of political schemes. In 1998, he ran and won the lone congressional seat of our province. The hardest obstacle in his election was the mayor who was also a gambling lord, and therefore had guns , goons, and gold. No lawyer would dare to accept the assignment during election time in his municipality, but being the rebel and adventurous in the group, I obliged. In his municipality, there were precincts that had zero vote for my partner even if the latter’s relative would swear to have voted. We filed criminal cases against this mayor, and all the lawyers in our law firm were in constant threat. We had to spend for bodyguards for two years. But during the 2004 elections, that mayor and my partner ran under the same political ticket. In politics, strange bedfellows can sleep together.

4. Philippine election is a year-round affair. If you are a congressman, you have to help all the elections in the province, save perhaps for the positions in the churches. There was this election for the Samahang Kabataan, a youth oganization that has a seat in the local legislative council. There are 14 municipalities in our province. It was a 7-7 for the opposing political parties. To break the tie, we had to get the vote of one Samahang Kabataan president. We had an associate in our law office who just passed the bar exam and was still single. We requested him to win the heart of a lady president. Before the election, our associate and the lady were sweethearts. We were assured of the majority vote.

5. Money can buy votes, so do cut-out newspapers. In one of the political conventions, a member who was seeking nomination, was into vote-buying. He cut newspapers to the size and shape of paper bills; on top and bottom of these cut – out papers, he placed real money, inserted these into envelops, and distributed these to the delegates before the votation. As the distribution was made in the convention hall, those who received the enveloped did not verify the content. [There is still honor among the dishonorables] That scheming member won, and the delegates who were hoodwinked, did not complain. They cannot flaunt their greed and ignorance by complaining.

6. I know of a judge who swears he will never run for public office again. Right after he passed the bar exam, he wanted to help his small town. He ran for a seat in the local legislative council. Brimming with idealism and confidence, he predicted his eventual victory. You see, the highest educational qualification among his opponents was a third year college. In that field, no way could a lawyer lose, so he thought. After the polling centers were closed, he went home to take a rest. He asked his mother whether she had voted. The mother, who was already near senility, said yes. Then the son asked whether she voted for him. The mother took from her pocket a piece of paper, and let the son read the contents. The names of the candidates were written but his name was not one of them. He asked his mother, “What are these names mom?” She replied, “Those are names of the candidates I voted because they gave me money.” He lost in that election.

7. I know the family of our vice-mayor in Cagayan de Oro City. The vice-mayor was a school mate in the college of law here. So do her brothers and sisters. Her father was once a mayor in the city. They had a band. All members of the family were good singers and can play any musical instrument. They were that close. The father, who is a lawyer, raised a good family: three lawyers, one doctor, an accountant, and the rest were all successful in their field. The father wanted to run as vice-mayor so as her daughter. Both belong to different political parties. They had a pact that no one would run. But the daughter did run. Feeling betrayed, the father attacked her daughter in the radio programs. And the daughter just answered: “He was a good for nothing father anyway.” When the mother was dying, they even filed cases as to who among the two should have a custody.

vignettes of martial law

1. Living under the shadows of martial law had never been easy. The martial reign of Ferdinand Marcos lasted from September 21, 1972 to February 25, 1986. As the Filipinos celebrate the most peaceful revolution on earth on February 25, 1986, when then dictator Ferdinand Marcos was booted out from office by the sheer number of Filipinos who went to the streets without arms but bearing only bibles, rosaries, and flowers,it is but fitting to recall the dark days in our country. Looking back in history, and not an amnesia of past events, is the best safeguard that democracy would not be snatched away again. There is a cogent need for remembrance of the dark period especially with the spate of extra-judicial killing of militants and critical media men under the Arroyo administration.

2. I was 3rd year college when I became editor-in-chief of the CRUSADER, the official student publication of Xavier University – Ateneo de Cagayan. That was school year 1984-1985. Rey Gomez, my features editor, decided to spend our semestral break in Libas, Jabonga, Agusan del Norte, my birthplace. The place was rebel infested then. So we wanted to have a feel of the rural situation for our write-up. On our way however, the public utility vehicle we were riding was stopped in one of the military checkpoints in Ampayon, a barangay just 15 kilometers away from Butuan City in the island of Mindanao, Philippines. All passengers were frisked. We were asked for any identification card or a residence certificate, but we had none. The vehicle was allowed to go but the two of us were detained in the checkpoint. When it was nearing night, I decided to use my thespian skill , otherwise, we would have become mere statistics along with the other victims of extra-judicial killings perpetrated by the military. I pleaded to a certain Capt. Ruaya that he should let us go because my grandfather died, so went my alibi. He did not believe me at first, but I shed a tear so he let us run away which we did, fearing that bullets might be following us.

In a twist of fate , sometime in 1997, a certain Capt. Ruaya came to our law firm in Butuan City for a legal consultation. He was the respondent in an administrative case. Immediately, I told him if he recognized me, but he shook his head. I told him of the incident, and I advised him to seek another lawyer lest I might be tainted with bias.

3. The killings, and ham-letting of villages were knocking at the doorsteps of the university gates. Student leadership meant social involvement. The economy was bad. Human rights abuses were rampant. Student leaders simply had to be militants. I decided to lead the students in Cagayan de Oro to rallies, pickets, and civil disobedience. The student paper then had a circulation of about 6,000 per issue, the biggest in Cagayan de Oro. The school paper was my medium. I networked with the other editors of school publications to organize the students into protest actions. I recall that on November 1985, for the first time since the proclamation of Martial Law on September 21, 1972, students of our school went outside the gates, and proceeded to other schools where other students were waiting to join us. That was the start of rallies that culminated on February 22, 1986, the last rally I led and participated. Three days after, on February 25, 1986, Marcos fled the country.

Another twist of fate though deserves mentioning. When I joined the fraternity in the College of Law, a brother who is already a major in the police, told me that my picture was one of those posted, that whenever they decided to “salvage” (a misnomer for killing militants), they take a picture from those posted. The next day, the body would be found somewhere.

4. It was sometime in October 1985 when I joined the journalism seminar in Davao City sponsored by the College Editor’s Guild of the Philippines, said to be a front of the communist party. I arrived in the University of Mindanao, Davao City at three in the afternoon. But the host told me that we had to wait for the other delegates from Manila, particularly Ateneo de Manila. It was already around 9:00 o’clock in the evening when we were herded into a bus bound for the seminar site. On our way, we were stopped by the men in uniforms whom I knew later on to be communists guerrillas. When we arrived at the seminar site, we were greeted with staccato bursts of gunfire. I realized that we were already in the rebel’s lair. The seminar was a mix of journalism and indoctrination.

5. For the school year 1986-1987, I was already enrolled in the College of law. My staff in the Crusader convinced me to take the editorial exam again so that I would remain as editor but they would do all the odd jobs while I concentrate in my law studies. My role then would be merely supervisory. I did continue as editor and entrusted the odd duties to my staff. But when the first issue for that school year came out, somebody inserted in the school paper a manifesto of the Kilusang Kabataan, the communist arm for the youth, calling for the bearing of arms. I resigned and had the whole thing investigated. It turned out that one of my section editors was a member of the communist movement and he went into hiding. I have not heard of him since then.

6. I was invited, urged, and cajoled by the militant left to join the movement. But I had not and will never be convinced with communist ideology. I have read and thoroughly studied the predecessors of Karl Marx. I understood the strength of the social analysis; the diagnosis may be correct but the cure is simply utopia. No way can there be classless society and equality among men. When the proletariat as a class rises to power, the said class is led by an individual or groups who eventually dictate the directions of the class. They become the new ruling elite in place of the oligarchs. We have to admit, men are not born with equal attributes. Someone among us will rise to eminence.

I must admit though that Karl Marx has the best socio-structural analysis of modern society.

7. I take pride in having assembled the best writers of the school to compose the staff of the school paper. There was the selection board that conducted the oral and written exams to choose the editor-in-chief and the associate. But the rest of the staff was selected by me. There was Brady Eviota who initially studied in the University of the Philippines-Diliman, but had to trasfer to our school because he was already identified as leftist. He wrote literary pieces. After graduation, he pursued his writing career and went on to be the grand prize winner for the First Mindanao Writer’s Workshop. (Incidentally, my eldest daughter and his were born on the same date and year). The associate editor, Celerina Rosales joined Malacanang Press Corp right after graduation. Rey Gomez, the features editor, bagged a journalism scholarship to Poland. Nilo Labares was the Visayan expert. He could write beautiful prose and poems in the dialect. He is now a known media practitioner in Cagayan de Oro City. There was also a writer we fondly called Red. He was a prolific writer. He was once with the underground movement. These staffers had a common battlecry : down with the dictator. These select students were virtually plucked out by me from their worlds. You see, prolific writers do not announce their brilliance. You have to seek for them.

8. By April 1986, Malacanang Palace , the official residence of the president and his family, was open house. I was eager to see what the seat of power looked like while the entire nation was living in constant fear and poverty. Palace is always a palace. But this was unique. There was one room where the noted 2,000 pairs of Imelda Marcos was stored. The room for the first lady was perfumed garden. Big bottles of perfume were left by the first lady. She could bathe everyday with those perfumes. In contrast, Ferdinand Marcos’ room was reeking with medicines. It was a virtual clinic. Ah, there was the mural of the first couple known as the “Malakas at Maganda” ( The Strong and Beautiful), of the Philippine mythology. Unlike the myth , the first couple pretensions to eternal power and beauty had to break in the onslaught of the people’s revolt.

9. The university is a microcosm of the society. The political firmament was felt in the campuses. After the proclamation of martial law, student governments and student newspapers were banned. In 1983, together with the radicals among the students, I joined the campaign to form the student government. The school administration vehemently opposed. There were student leaders who sided with the school administrators. But we prevailed despite that we received all forms of harassment including that coming from the military. To my suprise, my schoolmate in high school and classmate in college who opposed the formation of the student govenrment run and won the presidency. The similaries with real politik are evident.

10. If there is any one who prevailed on me not to go underground, t’was my mother. One time, as I went up the stage during a rally, I saw her in a corner shedding tears. She knew then that student activists had been “salvaged”. There were brilliant students I know who joined the communist’s movement. Most have been unheard of since then.

11. If anything at all, the greatest contribution of the Filipino race to modern history is the EDSA people’s revolt. It was the most peaceful revolution. The same method was emulated to break the Berlin wall, to dislodge Romanian dictator Caecescu, and the liberation of the great part of Eastern European nations which used to be part of the iron curtain. As for me, the period of martial law and my involvement in that era has fortified my critical analysis in a given situation, and to form the best response thereto. I could not help but write about vignettes of that era.