A Time to Grieve, A Time to Rue, A Time to Ask Ourselves – How Can We be so Stupid? So, ok, enough already, so we botched up, messed up and that whole hostage-taking incident blew up in our face for all the world to see. The late Daryl F. Gates must be turning in his grave. Daryl who, you might ask. You know, the controversial LAPD Chief who is credited with having instituted inter alia the much-emulated/imitated (but, alas, never equaled) LAPD SWAT (Special Weapons And Tactics) team. His mistake of course was he failed to secure exclusionary rights on the term“SWAT.” Nowadays, every police unit seems to have one, including, heaven forbid, our very own PNP. The term now conjures a spine-chilling effect on every security-conscious citizen who might have the misfortune of suddenly finding himself caught between a rock and a hard place. There is every reason to re-invent another name for such a police unit which is characterized mainly by members armed to the teeth with high-powered albeit outdated weapons of mass destruction. Indeed, the PNP has come up with another name “SAF” (Special Action Force) just as sinister-sounding if not destructive.
Sorry, I could not help myself. Just the other day, some siblings of mine decided to eat out at a rather popular restaurant. Since there were almost a dozen of us, the waiter seemed at a loss where to get us seated. He turned to me and asked:
“Sir, saan po ninyong gustong makaupo?” I turned to him and said:
“Kahit saan, iho, huwag lang malapit sa mga pulis.” As I said, I could not help myself.
I was of course merely trying to be facetious and smart-alecky as usual. But, as with most irony, I may have been merely trying to be realistic. Where there’s trouble there’s bound to be policemen. And vice versa.
Most of the time, whenever you read about a rumble or shooting in a beerhouse, it will usually involve some policemen or soldiers shooting it out over some sexy waitress. Which naturally prompted our funny fellow-countrymen after the Luneta fiasco to remark that our policemen seem to be experts at “hostess-taking” and not “hostage-taking.” We can be so cruelly funny, to our eternal regret.
So, where to lay the blame. We’ve heard it all before. It’s everybody else’s fault. It’s the fault of media. It’s the unruly, “usisero,” meddlesome crowd. It’s the lack of equipment and budget. Oh, yes, yesterday somebody also remembered to blame the previous administration.
Let me tell you a personal true story. Some time ago, I noticed from our bedroom window a couple of men cutting down some bamboo poles from the lush bamboo grove growing across the street from our house. Since naturally they were equipped with machetes or boloes, I thought better than to stop their illegal activity by myself. Instead, I telephoned our local barangay office to look into the matter. Sure enough, within a few minutes a police van loaded with about a dozen SWAT men in black armed with high-powered rifles swooped down on the place, aimed their weapons at the terrified bamboo gatherers before arresting and hauling them off to jail. Needless to state, I was sufficiently impressed – and helplessly horrified at the massive military exercise.
December 5, 2008 is another day that should go down in infamy as another classic “dog day afternoon.” A 53-year old Filipino seaman (recently home on furlough) was mercilessly gunned down with his 7-year old daughter in their Izuzu Crosswind van just as they were coming home inside their own subdivision in Paranaque in what can only be politely described as another stupid case of mistaken identity. No less than 80 bullets pierced through the Izuzu van. The police had been engaged in a shootout in that residential neighborhood with some suspected robbers. When the smoke cleared some 14 alleged members of a robbery gang lay dead. Recently, at the initiative of the newly-installed DOJ Secretary, some 25 cops involved in the massacre were charged with 2 counts of murder, with no bail recommended, for the deaths of the seaman and his young daughter. Please don’t ask me about the 14 dead robbery suspects. Dead men tell no tales, as Clint Eastwood would say.
Do we have a monopoly on stupidity? I don’t believe so. Idiocy, perhaps, yes, but not stupidity. Unless you believe that police brutality, police incompetence and stupidity are inherently included in the term “collateral damage” which seems part and parcel of every police shootout.
If truth be told, we did not invent the term “idiocy.” The term has Greek, Latin and French origins. If Greek, then idiocy must have been around BC. If Latin or French, then at least since the middle or dark ages. In fact, I’m not aware that we have any appropriate, graphic equivalent for “idiot” or “stupid fool” in any of our local dialects, perhaps out of reverence for Christ’s strong admonition against the use of the term (“raca!”) and risking eternal damnation (Mt.5:22).
On the other hand, if we are not careful, “idiot” or “fool” may eventually become synonymous with “Filipino” in much the same way it found its way into the Oxford dictionary to mean “domestic helper” or “housemaid.”
Is there anything we can do about it? But of course there is. It may take a few generations but who’s counting. We may be stupid alright, but not desperately, hopelessly stupid.
To begin with, let’s start off with the little things. Take the little matter ofpunctuality, for instance. How can anybody even take us seriously if we cannot be expected to be on time. In this country, no one looks at the time. We think nothing about being an hour or half an hour late for an appointment. A wedding that’s supposed to start at 4PM will most likely mean 630PM. Many a balikbayan will find himself/herself all by her embarrassing lonesome if she makes the mistake of going to a party at 6PM when everyone else comes in at 9 or 10PM. We blame the traffic, our mother-in-law, brownouts, the price of gas, or the current or previous government for our chronic tardiness. A tailor or body shop mechanic thinks nothing about being late 4 or 5 days beyond a promised completion date. Commuter trains in the U.S. and Europe are designated and so numbered according to their departure time. Thus, the “716 Train,” for instance, means exactly that – it leaves everyday at, you had better believe it, 7:16.
Then, when we learn to be punctual, perhaps we might convince others that we can be relied upon, to be reliable for bigger, more significant things; in other words, to be credible, trustworthy. It means to be truthful and honest. Which leads to being honorable, i.e., having a sense of worth, a sense of shame. Hindi tayo kapal muks or sin verguenza. It goes with character and integrity. It means we are not crass and shameless, without any sense of what is the honorable, the right thing to do. It means we would rather die than be wrong or dishonest. The Japanese commit hara kiri when they were wrong. It’s also been called “delicadeza” from the Spaniards who may have tried to develop in us a “tender or delicate conscience.” Alas, they may not have tried hard enough.
Most of our government leaders interpret “delicadeza” to mean a juicy position is worth killing for (or holding some tourist hostages to recover it).
Can you imagine if Filipinos were left in charge of a nuclear plant in Bataan? What, after some stupid nincompoops mindlessly inundated the entire Marikina, Cainta, Pasig, Taguig, and other neighboring towns by suddenly and simultaneously releasing dam waters from Wawa, La Mesa, Montalban, etc. and then blaming it all on Typhoon “ONDOY?” Can you believe you could ever get those lying bastards to admit they committed a blunder and drowned hundreds of the helpless countrymen due to their incompetence and stupidity? And you are going to trust such people with an atomic energy plant?
The thing about being truthful is that we have no right to cry out for “justice” unless we are truthful. Justice must be based on truth or it is not justice. Hence, every judicial inquiry starts with the question: “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth… so help you God?” Every little piece of paper the government asks you to submit must be under oath, i.e., under pain of perjury (punishable from 6 months to 6 years imprisonment). Do you think that deters the driver’s license applicant, the business license applicant, the income tax return filer, etc.? What, what perjury are you talking about?
Speaking of starting small, we could also try some road discipline, for drivers and pedestrians alike. We could start by giving the pedestrian, walking in the sweltering heat of the tropical sun and Manila pollution, a modicum of consideration and respect by yielding the right of way. We could avoid competing with jeepney and bus drivers who must at all times drive like crazy just to meet their so-called “boundary.” Otherwise, their families won’t eat for the day.
Then, there is the small matter of basketball. I believe we should forget about basketball and try soccer instead. The whole world plays soccer. Only giants, ogres and diminutive Filipinos insist on playing basketball. Soccer teaches patience. You can watch soccer for hours without a goal being made. Basketball teaches instant gratification, three-point plays. 120-118 is a good game in basketball. In our time, Kobe Bryant would have been called “buwaya,” definitely not the ideal role model.
But, I have digressed. So, what can we learn from the Luneta Park fiasco? How about, with apologies to Ninoy, “is the Filipino worth hostage-taking and killing for?” - JAMES D. LANSANG (jeemsdee@yahoo.com)
Immersion at Don Matias in Burgos Pangasinan