Political babble

Disaster is defined as a physical occurrence that causes great damage, such as a typhoon, earthquake, fire or any other similar event.

But in politics, statecraft or diplomacy, disaster can manifest in different shades and forms—a wrong decision, an utterance that can be nuanced in several ways, or even body language and other nonverbal communications.

Of all the disaster-leading gaffes in politics, inappropriate remarks or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time is the stupidest unforced error that one seeking public office or his top leader can commit in the campaign. The damage caused by the error may turn out to be game-changing or altogether irreparable.

Saying the wrong thing when there’s no compulsion for you to do so is inexcusable when campaigning for votes. First, it reveals your mind’s lack of sophistication, failing as it does to recognize the barrenness in terms of truth or propriety or relevant value to your interest of that which you’ve elected to say something about. Second, it betrays a developing panic that your campaign is losing steam and that your opponent is gaining ground and reducing perceptively what was once widely seen as your unassailable lead.

The danger of opening your mouth and putting your foot in always lurks in a political exercise. This is because, like any other human activity, the political game is not immune from the operation of Murphy’s Law—“If anything can go wrong, it will.” You can be careful, you can have the best of intentions or the firmest belief in the validity and value of what you intend to say to advance your goal or your principal’s interest, but your verbal exertion can still produce a result that’s the exact opposite of what you expected.

Not meaning to bring it up again with intent to inflict further pain all around, let me cite the brouhaha stirred by remarks casting doubts on the rightness of Sen. Grace Poe running for president in 2016 considering her foundling origin—an eminent example of an unhappy consequence brought about by verbal effort, done at the wrong, for transparently ill motive, and outside the bounds of propriety and good thinking.

I do not believe the inappropriate poke on Poe’s foundling origin would have grave effect approaching disaster level on the popular standing of any of the “presidentiables.” But definitely, the fallout it has created, especially in social media, should serve as a wake-up call for them and their handlers to carry on more humbly and sensibly, and sound off with more circumspection and goodwill.

Avoiding making funny statements or assertions that at best can be called crude and irrational is no tricky business. It can be learned, or should be learned, by anyone aspiring for public office or by the spokesperson of somebody important.

The late Sen. Genaro Magsaysay formulated a simple dictum for saving oneself from becoming a laughingstock for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time: “More talk, more mistake; less talk, less mistake; no talk, no mistake.” It’s a rule than which there’s none truer or as foolproof, in my opinion. There’s just one problem: It boxes you in and disallows you to express yourself on anything other than “No comment.” Can you imagine the fix you’d be in if you were asked “How often do you beat your wife?” and you answer “No comment”?

I have been in politics for over half a century, have been interviewed by media countless times, have functioned as spokesperson for FVR’s political party, and I don’t remember having uttered anything that put our party in hot water, or compelled me to make a public apology.

My secret? I learned from the masters. I have worked with Pete Teodoro, acknowledged as the Philippines’ original PR guru, and with Joe Aspiras, who was not called “Sunshine Joe” for nothing, and a genius at quieting troubled waters and rampaging egos. And I have most certainly gotten infected by the subtle and disarming PR technique of an unlikely mentor, FVR.

A good guideline for spokespersons in this opening season of political babble is to open your mouth only about matters you truly, honestly have full grasp of and have authority to discuss, and to close your trap about matters of which you have neither full understanding nor liberty to mention. Defuse, not ignore or sidestep, sensitive issues that lead to a trap, through statements couched in humor, not in terms that invite further questions.

US President John F. Kennedy was a master of the quip, the issue-defusing riposte laced with subtle humor. Criticized for naming attorney general his brother Robert, who was perceived as young for the job, JFK brought chuckle instead of smirk to his critics’ lips by replying: “I don’t see what’s wrong with giving Bobby a little experience before he starts to practice law.”

Another guideline: Don’t make statements that carry the invitation “Punch me.” A counterpunch delivered with force and precision can be lethal, such as that delivered by Juan Marquez to Manny Pacquiao’s chin, after which the champ fell like a log, out cold.

Arsenio Lacson was a counterpuncher than whom none could be more devastating. Told one time that his rival for the vice presidential nomination, Carlos P. Garcia, had described himself to the press as the dark horse in the race, Lacson retorted: “Tell that penumbra of the silhouette that I agree with him 100 percent. He is dark and he is a horse.”

Making public statements to perform a duty as some Big Shot’s megaphone or to make way for your garrulous nature is no big deal. It gives you exposure. It can be great fun. That is, unless and until you make insipid, inane, insane, inauspicious remarks that’ll make you an instant punch line, or worse, be the cause of an unmitigated disaster.

Rule from PR 101: If you can’t restrain yourself from talking, be wise; if you can’t be wise, shut up.

Gualberto B. Lumauig (lumauigbert@yahoo.com) is past president of the UST Philosophy and Letters Foundation and former governor/congressman of Ifugao.