Happy new things
Last year brought some pretty weighty changes in the national mindset.
First was a new vigilance—against pork in particular and corruption in general. The Inquirer’s exposé about Janet Napoles and the P10-billion scam she wrought with legislators, one that entailed the utter waste of people’s money while the people themselves groveled in want, sparked a national outrage against pork. The “Million People March” showed the depth of that outrage. Although it did not quite bring in a million people, it came close to it, people streaming in and out of the Luneta to register their anger.
As far as I know, this was the first time the public had really gotten pissed off about corruption. We have not lacked for media exposés of and congressional hearings on corruption before, but much of it had just gone blithely by with the public, with no small help from the bishops, muttering, “What else is new, let’s just move on.”
For the first time, the public, or the more aware section of it, showed an appreciation of the national budget as people’s money, as our money, as something that ought to go to us, and corruption was stealing from us. Where before we simply treated it as something that belonged to government officials, to which we were entitled only crumbs, leavings, balato. The spectacle of officials sinking our money into fake NGOs and thence into their pockets suddenly became odious.
I can only hope that sense of oppression grows stronger this year. I can only hope the new vigilance deepens and widens this year.
Second was the new democracy. Or probably, more accurately, the glimpse, or spontaneous practice, of real democracy.
I’ve always said that we’ve never really had true democracy because the people’s participation in their governance was limited to elections. Either they could be ignored, as in Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s time, or they could be asked to trust completely in government which knew what was best for them, as in P-Noy’s time. The social media in particular changed all that. Suddenly, the public refused to be scorned or humored, suddenly it demanded to be heard.
That had its good and bad side. By allowing every Tom, Dick and Harry to weigh in on everything, the social media also became a natural target for paid hacks and spinners. Additionally, it exacerbated the sorrier aspects of Filipino culture, chief of them the crab mentality, or national penchant to bring down the successful or well-intentioned by way of rumor, innuendo and plain lies.
But just as well, by allowing the public to weigh in on everything, it gave it a voice. It made real the dictum vox populi, vox Dei, the voice of the people is the voice of God, a thing we used to associate only with elections. Suddenly, no one could be overbearing anymore, as Mar Roxas found out when he berated Alfred Romualdez in Tacloban. Suddenly, no one could be epal anymore, as Jojo Binay found out in Zamboanga, Leyte and Dasmariñas. Suddenly, no one could be Teflon anymore as P-Noy himself found out over the last few months.
The people will be part of their governance. Democracy is a wretched system, except that all others are worse.
Third was the new normal. “Yolanda” didn’t just tear down a city, it tore down our smug belief that we could continue to ruin the planet without quite literally reaping the whirlwind. Or that we had a special place in God’s heart we would forever be spared the plagues that were plaguing the world. When, as the Greeks knew even then, Zeus helps those who help themselves. Romualdez would complain that had government just warned of an impending tsunami instead of “storm surges,” they would have been better prepared. Now he knows what a storm surge means.
It’s the new normal, catastrophe is the order of the day.
Fortunately, the new normal also brought in its train a new bayanihan. The storm of goodwill and generosity Yolanda unleashed was as much a joy to behold as Yolanda itself was a grief to be awed by. Overnight, relief goods and relief givers poured into Tacloban as the rest of the country and the world went on a giving binge. It was bayanihan on a scale we hadn’t seen before, as people of all color, faith and station in life, their consciences stricken and their hearts tugged by the spectacle of pain stretched out before them, rediscovered their common humanity.
Who knows? Maybe we can sustain that for a long time. Maybe we can turn charity into justice.
Finally, there was the new morality. This one courtesy of a sublime accident or providential design, take it as you will—the Vatican suddenly having as unlikely a new pope in Pope Francis as Middle-earth had of a savior in the Halfling Frodo. Overnight, the Vatican turned from reactionary to progressive, from conservative to activist, from pro-rich to pro-poor. Overnight, the Catholic Church went back to its roots, rediscovering the Man or Deity after whom it was named, who was the son of a carpenter who walked around with fishermen.
Pope Francis’ advent sent a storm surge across the world, beyond the Catholic clergy, beyond the Catholic Church. Closer to home, it pulled the rug from under a local hierarchy given to defending its privileged status by insisting on doctrine, ritual, tradition. By recalling instead that the essence of Christianity was to do good rather than avoid sin, to tend to the material and spiritual needs of the poor rather than the salvation of wealthy donors, to give back to religion a living presence rather than a dead memory, Pope Francis energized a faithful that was turning faithless. In the process giving Filipinos in particular to know a new spirituality, a new morality.
Happy new things these were. And happy new things these may continue to be.
Happy New Year everyone!
