Is criticism tantamount to subversion, and is asking questions treason? Opinion ends up deeply divided on these matters during times of national emergency or crisis. Two examples will suffice.
In the frantic days immediately after Typhoon “Ondoy,” there were instances in which Richard Gordon was criticized because Red Cross volunteers were kept waiting for what turned out to be a photo opportunity that never took place, because Gordon didn’t turn up. Gordon is in a particularly sensitive position when it comes to these things, because of the nonpartisan nature of the Red Cross, and his partisan identity as both a senator and presidential aspirant, an unprecedented situation for a chairman of the PNRC.
But in typical Gordon fashion he faced the situation squarely enough, explaining the photo-op scheme wasn’t his, and furthermore, vowing no such thing would ever happen again. While some of his admirers continue to have ruffled feathers over criticism having been ventured in the first place, the chairman himself did the right thing: there is no such thing as lčse-majesté when it comes to the elected head of a humanitarian organization who also happens to be an elected official—and who has to finely balance the at times contradictory duties of the offices he holds.
When Typhoon “Pepeng” struck, the President ordered the Mansion House in Baguio opened to the public as an emergency shelter. Three busloads of students from Taguig were allowed to park in the premises that night, although the students weren’t allowed to alight from their buses. The next morning, when the President went to Baguio, the buses were asked to leave. Everyone in Baguio City knew what happened, and how a humanitarian order by the President ended up thwarted by her flunkies. This only goes to show that even the best-intentioned policies can be ruined by crude or contradictory implementation.
The twin tragedies of Ondoy and Pepeng brought out the best in so many people, but also exposed the shortcomings of the public and private sector when it comes to providing relief and rehabilitation assistance. The biggest shortcoming of all, in terms of officialdom, is that it enjoys very little public trust. As government tried to manage the outpouring of support from people overseas for typhoon victims here at home, quite a bit of nudging had to take place for officials to realize that they had to go the extra mile in terms of explaining existing regulations and to offer reassurances that aid would go where it was intended.
Secretary Esperanza Cabral of the DSWD has been, on the whole, patient and committed to the utmost transparency and accountability in the handling of donations, while taking pains to explain what her department is doing—and how it pains the rank and file to operate under a climate of mistrust born, not of her current handling of the twin crises, but of the mishandling of previous ones.
In recent days Cabral’s been upset over a blogger asking some pretty pointed questions based on her experience as a volunteer in the DSWD warehouse in Pasay City. The issue, shorn of all the emotionalism that’s come to surround it, is simply this: Is the DSWD moving fast enough in dispatching donated relief goods, considering the continuing need of so many citizens for relief?
The blunt answer is, the DSWD could be moving faster, and it took the public outcry caused by the blog for the government to start sounding a call for more volunteers, which sidesteps the question of whether it’s a wise or even necessary policy to rely on volunteers for a line agency to fulfill its functions. The DSWD has done a lot, as it is; so the public interest lies in figuring out how it could do better—which it can’t do, without the public participating by means of criticism and helping in problem-solving.
What struck me immediately about the controversial blog entry was that the problems the public has come to associate with officialdom and relief were notably absent. There was no pilfering, no looting, no diversion of relief to line official pockets. This, in itself, is a colossal achievement: the warehouses are secure, items are tidily kept and they presumably end up where they should. Another thing that struck me was that the secretary has proven true to her pledge to be transparent and accountable about donations: they are publicly available, on line, listing monetary donations, and donations in kind, and the disbursement of relief goods.
Some things could stand improvement, in terms of the record-keeping of the DSWD, for example in terms of donations being recorded in one manner, but recorded, in the disbursements, in another: canned goods recorded by the box upon receipt, but sent out in batches of actual cans, for example. This makes for a confusing, not to mention untidy, inventory system that leaves too many gray areas when the time comes to reconcile inventory received and dispatched. Or take items having to stay in the pipeline until a monetary value can be assigned: either a more comprehensive database of values can be created, or donors urged to provide this information.
When the whole issue was at its most ferocious, some people expressed uneasiness about the repercussions of questioning the DSWD and its methods. This is an unwarranted fear; the DSWD has come to realize it has to explain its policies and methods to the public; and it has armed the public with facts that confirm its assertions. On the whole it has been a healthy exercise in accountability that should reassure foreign donors and the citizenry that, ultimately, Cabral serves.
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READERS are invited to visit http://blogs.inquirer.net/current/ to see relevant readings on the issue of the DSWD warehouse, to see eyewitness accounts, the department’s accounting of donations and how the system can be improved.
