Quaker oaths

That title was not misspelled; in fact, it’s the second time the Inquirer has an article with such a title.

The earlier article appeared in the motoring section, of all places, and was about what you should to protect yourself in case of earthquakes. It was written shortly after the devastating earthquakes in Japan.

The title was obviously chosen to catch the attention of readers; Quaker Oats, after all, is a staple in many Filipino homes. My sister and I still remember, not always pleasantly, a standard breakfast fare throughout our childhood of a bowl of oatmeal and a soft-boiled egg. The soft-boiled egg was a real ordeal so today my kids get a choice of fried, scrambled or hard-boiled eggs. Oatmeal though turned out to be a healthy choice so it is mandatory, most days at least, with no particular brand name preference.  (Quaker Oats, I have to say, isn’t owned by Quakers.)

Quaker oaths the kids won’t get though, because Quakers do not take oaths, citing James 5:12 “. . . do not swear—not by heaven or by earth or by anything else. Let your ‘yes’ be yes, and your ‘no,’ no, or you will be condemned.”

Don’t take that “you’ll be condemned” line too literally.  What’s more important to Quakers, Mennonites and other religious groups that don’t take oaths is the need to be truthful at all times, with or without invoking God or the gods.

The Quakers were serious about this, and because they were among the Founding Fathers of the United States of America, they worked hard to ensure that people would have the freedom not to take oaths. The US Constitution prescribes an oath or affirmation for the presidential inauguration. An affirmation is different from an oath in two respects.  First, instead of saying “I swear” you say “I affirm.”  The second difference is that at the end, an affirmation drops “So help me God.”

The Quakers pushed as well for the use of affirmations in courts, so today, in the United States, the United Kingdom and many Commonwealth countries, a person testifying in court has the option of taking an affirmation instead of an oath. I was able to do this two years ago when I had to testify in a Hong Kong court in behalf of a Filipina domestic helper.

The affirmation is an important judicial instrument, reflecting the separation of the state from religion, and respecting the diverse beliefs in society. Note that while an affirmation is used by Christians who consider an oath a form of blasphemy, it can also be used by agnostics and atheists, who could plead that they would be lying if they said, “So help me God.”

‘Pagpapatotoo’

Most Filipinos are unaware that the Philippine Constitution allows the use of affirmations as well. Clearly copied from the US Constitution, there is a provision for a presidential oath (panunumpa) or affirmation (pagpapatotoo).  Here is the constitutional provision in Filipino:

Matimtim kong pinanunumpaan [o pinatotohanan] na tutuparin ko nang buong katapatan at sigasig ang aking mga tungkulin bilang Pangulo [o Pangalawang Pangulo o Nanunungkulang Pangulo] ng Pilipinas, pangangalagaan at ipagtatanggol ang kanyang Konstitusyon, ipatutupad ang mga batas nito, magiging makatarungan sa bawat tao, at itatalaga ang aking sarili sa paglilingkod sa Bansa. Kasihan nawa ako ng Diyos.”  (Kapag pagpapatotoo, ang huling pangungusap ay kakaltasin.)

Why isn’t the affirmation used more often (or used at all) in the Philippines? I guess it’s because those who could, don’t bother. I belong to the liberal Quakers, who are so liberal I was told I could remain Catholic if I wanted to.  Part of being liberal is being gracious, which makes us feel uncomfortable when people get inconvenienced because of our beliefs. So when I was appointed dean last year, I thought I would simply keep quiet during the swearing ceremonies, with the last part, the “So help me God” clause.

But Quakers are also known for being bull-headed: I won’t force you to conform to my beliefs, but don’t ask me to conform to your beliefs if they harm people. Quakers have been imprisoned, even executed, for upholding their convictions, which include pacifism (translated into a refusal to bear arms) and, in the 19th century, a fierce opposition to slavery.

The struggles continue to this day. In 2007, Marianne Kearney-Brown, a Quaker math teacher, got fired from her job at a university in California because every time she was asked to sign an oath of allegiance, she would cross out “swear” and put in “affirm.” She would also insert “nonviolently” before a clause “to support and defend the US and California constitutions against all enemies, foreign and domestic.”  She was fired for insisting on the insertions. She brought the case to court and eventually a compromise was made, with the university issuing an apology and declaring, in writing, that “Signing the oath does not carry with it any obligation or requirement that public employees bear arms or otherwise engage in violence.” Kearney-Brown was rehired.

Notarizing God

I have tried to follow this  principle of flexibility amid firmness. A few months back, the newly elected student council at my college asked me to swear them into office.  I explained I could not do that, and told them there was an “affirmation” option, one whose legality was, well, affirmed by no less than the former dean of the College of Law, Raul Pangalangan.

The students were surprised. They responded that they wanted to respect my religious beliefs, but also said they were “obligated” to swear, rather than to affirm, all the way up to having the oath notarized. I checked again with Dean Pangalangan and he said both oaths and affirmations can be notarized. (I did think it was strange that we needed a lawyer to notarize your swearing in God’s name.)

I told the students I understood their discomfort.  In the end, I had one of my associate deans swear them in.

But that incident reminded me how powerful a dominant religious culture can be, even in liberal UP, and that this is often at the cost of losing awareness of, and sensitivity to, other religions.

There is great diversity out there, even among Catholics, so we really should be more careful. For example, don’t presume that Mass cards for the deceased are always appropriate. Protestants don’t use them and even some Catholics don’t like them. (“What? Are you saying my mother is burning in Purgatory?” quipped a Catholic friend, tongue-in-cheek. Actually, she doesn’t like Mass cards because she thinks the money can be better spent for charity.)

Given the growing tide of religious intolerance in the country, I am going to be more insistent now about using my constitutional right to freedom of religion. It is a choice I want to see extended to others as well. People should be allowed to choose between affirmations and oaths, and if the latter is done, to use a Bible, a Koran, or no religious book at all.