On July 27, President Aquino will deliver his last State of the Nation Address before a joint session of Congress at the House of Representatives.
Ahead of the annual affair, the Batasang Pambansa is being cleaned up and its facilities refurbished to make them look presentable for the occasion.
The lawmakers and their spouses are expected to come in full splendor—after beauty treatments—with elegant clothes and expensive jewelry for the event.
In the meantime, the Philippine National Police is conducting crowd-control exercises in preparation for the usual protest demonstrations by militant organizations. Hundreds of policemen and soldiers will be mobilized to maintain peace and order.
As in the past, schools and offices near the Batasan complex will be suspended to minimize congestion in the streets. Countless motorists and pedestrians in the area are in for hellish traffic.
The Sona is an American tradition foisted on us by our former colonial masters during the Commonwealth period. The 1935 Constitution states: “… [T]he President shall from time to time give to the Congress of the Philippines information of the state of the Nation, and recommend to its consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.”
This provision was copied from the US Constitution which reads: “He (the President) shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.”
The practice of delivering a Sona was carried over to the 1973 Constitution that President Ferdinand Marcos used to provide legal color to his martial law regime, then later to the Freedom Constitution that President Corazon Aquino adopted in 1986 as a transitional government framework, and, finally, the present Constitution.
The 1987 Constitution states that “the President shall address the Congress at the opening of its regular session.” The start of that session has been fixed on the fourth Monday of July, although Congress can provide for a different date for the commencement of its regular business. So far, no attempt has been made to alter that date.
The State of the Union Address in the United States evolved from the original “from time to time” into an annual affair. But unlike its Philippine counterpart, that tradition hardly attracts the attention of the American public.
Only the politicians and social personalities who want to be seen rubbing elbows with the powers-that-be make a fuss about it. The delivery of the State of the Union Address is as uneventful as Election Day. Both events come and go without much fanfare and disruption of the routine of daily living.
Like many other American political practices the Philippines has adopted, the Sona has become an unproductive exercise. It is no different from the fiesta that some people in the rural areas indulge in to maintain an old tradition even if it means hocking the family heirloom.
Next week’s event is expected to be a reprise of past Sonas. The President will talk about the accomplishments of his administration. The proadministration lawmakers will applaud with approval. The opposition will criticize the speech as unrealistic or fictional. And if tradition will be followed, an opposition lawmaker will deliver a “counter-Sona” the following day.
While President Aquino is delivering his Sona, the police authorities and demonstrators will be engaged in a test of wills over control of the streets outside the legislative complex.
True, the Sona is a constitutional requirement, but do we really need it? Is a president’s two-hour-or-more visit to Congress worth all the trouble of pulling out hundreds of uniformed personnel from their regular assignments to secure the Batasan premises, disrupting office and school activities, and creating a situation that often gives rise to bloodied heads and broken bones?
Does the country get anything beneficial in return for footing the high cost of hosting this once-a-year exercise that is long on form but short on substance?
Personal lobbying and horse trading, not speeches, determine the legislative action that the executive can get from the lawmakers. To ordinary Filipinos for whom life is a daily struggle for survival, the Sona hardly means anything; it’s looked at as an ego trip that is enjoyed only by the political and social elites.
What adds to the frustration and disgust is the sight of men and women who attend this glorified fiesta in resplendent clothes and expensive accessories. Even the members of the supposedly militant party-list representatives enjoy walking the red carpet in their elegant barong and terno.
The masa can only look with envy at their representatives who have a license to dip their fingers into the public treasury to indulge their vanities.
Considering the modern means of communications, there are other ways by which a president can inform Congress of his or her program of government without going through the hassle and expense that characterize Sonas.
The Constitution does not require the president to be personally present in Congress to comply with this annual reportorial requirement. The Sona can be delivered to a joint session of Congress from Malacañang by remote television telecast or other modern technological means.
When the Constitution comes up for review in the future, the removal or relaxation of the provision on the Sona should be seriously considered.
Raul J. Palabrica (rpalabrica@inquirer.com.ph) writes a weekly column in the Business section of the Inquirer.