“The Philippines could have been another Singapore if the late president Ferdinand Marcos held on to power,” opined Senator Bongbong Marcos. You’ve got to give it to the guy, every son thinks big of his father.
The Philippines as next Singapore sounds convincing if said in the 1950’s when Singapore was a nation in shambles, reeling from the physical and economic ravages of war. Said today, Bongbong would just leave most Filipinos (especially the younger ones) disoriented than enlightened. Singapore is a regional superpower there’s even no point of comparison between it and 1970’s Philippines, Bongbong’s father’s heyday when the Philippines was wallowing in artificial progress under Bagong Lipunan.
But no offense to the good senator, there is really no indication that the Philippines would be like Singapore even if his father ruled longer. If it is any consolation none of the country’s past and present leaders could make us Singapore—not in the last 50 years—not even in the next 50. With the way we handle our nation’s affairs and our past and present leaders’ lackluster performance versus corruption Singapore as an aspiration is way out of our league. We should pick countries our own mettle such as Thailand, Vietnam or Cambodia.
We were once “almost there” but corruption got the better of us. The Philippines is a case of riches to rags because of corruption. Those born in the last 2 decades would find it delusional and even smug calling the Philippines “a rich nation” and I can’t blame them. They woke up to poverty where there’s barely any sign that life used to be better.
Luckier (older) Filipinos have lived through our country’s glory days after World War 2 when we were regarded as the second wealthiest nation in Asia, next to Japan. It was only in the 1960’s that we started eating dust as fellow southeast Asian nations sped passed us. And in the Marcos years our economy had further stagnated due to economic mismanagement, political instability, and corruption. These stunted our chances at growth in the Singaporean magnitude.
Economic recovery in the post Marcos years had been modest, but whatever gains made were constantly waylaid by external economic recessions, internal political strife, and of course, lots of corruption. And it’s not to say that the succeeding presidents did a great job at fighting . From the ensuing Aquino, Ramos, Estrada, Arroyo administrations to the great Aquino comeback of today, corruption remains incurable.
Singapore amid all these, had blossomed into the island nation of abundance that we know it today because it is the least corrupt nation in the world according to Transparency International. Our Philippines is at the opposite end of that spectrum and we can’t stress it enough that corruption closes a lot of doors for a country already starving for opportunity. As long as we don't succeed in fighting corruption or prosecuting the corrupt, foreign investors would also skip the Philippines taking progress away with them.
Singapore owes much of its success against corruption and crime to one word-DISCIPLINE. It cracks the whip at the slightest misdemeanors. Singaporeans even call their city, a “fine city” with a host of seemingly normal human activities considered unlawful and violators are slapped with hefty “fines”.
These include smoking (outside designated areas), littering, spitting, not flushing the toilets, unnatural sex and even gum chewing. Note that many Filipinos love to do one or all of the above and there’s no way those acts will be outlawed in our extremely considerate country. We can’t even clamp down on jaywalking, much less graft, tax evasion, plunder, drug smuggling or massacres.
Singapore boasts of its judicial corporal punishment which is consistently and systematically implemented to eliminate basic social ills that weigh down on progress. Singapore may have come under fire for its rigid laws and penalties such as caning and systematic executions of serious criminals are often seen as inhumane but discipline had been responsible in making Singapore the hybrid regime that it is today.
By keeping tabs on discipline, corruption and crime have become an exception than a common occurrence in Singapore which has the highest execution rates in the world (relative to its size). Some 408 people have been put to death in Singapore from 1991 to 2003, according to Amnesty International. This may have instilled fear in the people but it had achieved its end—order, leading to progress.
Our “now-you-see-now-you-don’t” death penalty on the other hand boasts of just one executionee in recent years, Leo Echegaray whose guilt (or innocence) is still being debated upon, probably because our investigations and trials have not been thorough. This brings us to another recipe for a successful country—a formidable justice system that is firm, non-negotiable and incorruptible.
The Philippines is light years away from Singapore where discipline is concerned. And if we as a country could only come close to Singapore as far as discipline, maybe—just maybe—we’d get there.
And absurd as it may seem, let me quote former President Marcos who once said, “Para sa ikauunlad ng bansa, disiplina ang kailangan”.
This one, Marcos got right.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Media gets tired too
By: Stanley Palisada
News media today is the most fatigue-stricken on earth nowadays. With the developing war in the middle east compounded by natural calamities over in Japan and New Zealand in the past few weeks, news teams are driven to exhaustion and news finances, to premature depletion.
Deploying reporters to other countries successively during the first quarter of 2011 is largely unplanned. It’s true that news networks set up provisions for the unknown, as news media is in the business of breaking stories. But who would ever think crises of various magnitudes would hit different regions of the world almost simultaneously, as if on cue? Even major networks CNN and ABC (both sufficiently-backed, financially) have already hinted that the tsunami of global events recently are getting a tad costly for financial comfort, and equally taxing to journalists.
And if these global networks are harping exhaustion, how much more the Philippine news media whose budget and might, are just a fraction of what giant networks have at their disposal?
Three months into the year and the country’s networks are already griping over costly deployments and newsrooms feel like it’s been dumped with a year’s worth of coverage.
And 2011 is far from over. The La Nina enhanced typhoon season in the coming quarter is sure to bring damage and desperation to our countrymen that coverage alone would require sizable resources already. Who knows what else lies ahead? Another Ondoy?
This early PHIVOLCS—inspired by the Japan experience—has also revived talks on how an intense quake similar to Japan’s, could bring the Philippines to its knees. Our very own “big one” shall reap casualties in the hundreds of thousands—and covering all that human misery is a chilling outlook for news media (knock on wood).
While the Philippines is not smack in the middle of the recent killer quakes, waves, and wars for the moment, we are still affected by every world problem via collateral damage. Filipinos are an omnipresent people and it’s highly likely that every nook and cranny of this planet has a Filipino in it. By and large, the costs of chasing stories to the ends of the earth are higher than the GDP’s of Batanes.
Hence catastrophic events outside our land can either reap Filipino victims or Filipinos waiting to be saved—either way, media covers. If a tragedy or war strikes Saudi Arabia for instance, evacuating about a million OFW’s is a humongous problem for the government and a major production for news networks.
That kind operation is like saving an entire city with the sheer number of lives at stake as the number of Filipinos in Saudi Arabia is even greater than the population of some of our cities. In Libya and Egypt alone when OFW’s had to be evacuated news teams covering the exodus of Filipinos, racked up fare, hotel, food and miscellaneous expenses running in the millions.
But more overwhelming than cost of news, is a tragedy’s toll on man himself. When an earthquake and tsunami hit Japan, news media again penetrated the ruined and radioactive cities not just to look for Filipinos and their stories. Media played rescuer and gave hope, by providing assistance to the confused, the desperate and the trapped.
Next to the Department of Foreign Affairs, it is in media that OFW’s seek during desperate times. Just like government, the job of media goes beyond the coverage—as it offers public service. Panicking relatives of Filipinos come to media for both information and assistance especially when they cannot rely on government for these.
Lastly, news media’s job comes with more risks than ever. In the Japan coverage safety concerns over radiation from damaged nuclear plants in Fukushima exposed reporters to new threats such as radiation contamination. In Libya news media could get caught in the crossfire, or targeted just like everyone else.
Amid all these, journalists need debriefing. As human beings, no journalist (no matter how veteran or cynical) leaves the coverage unaffected by the traumatic experiences he had to witness, and tell about.
Debriefing allows people on the ground to talk about their experiences to experts such as psychologists who can help them process their feelings towards these experiences. Debriefing also readies the journalist for yet another tragic, breaking news story--which by recent experience--could come any moment.
News media today is the most fatigue-stricken on earth nowadays. With the developing war in the middle east compounded by natural calamities over in Japan and New Zealand in the past few weeks, news teams are driven to exhaustion and news finances, to premature depletion.
Deploying reporters to other countries successively during the first quarter of 2011 is largely unplanned. It’s true that news networks set up provisions for the unknown, as news media is in the business of breaking stories. But who would ever think crises of various magnitudes would hit different regions of the world almost simultaneously, as if on cue? Even major networks CNN and ABC (both sufficiently-backed, financially) have already hinted that the tsunami of global events recently are getting a tad costly for financial comfort, and equally taxing to journalists.
And if these global networks are harping exhaustion, how much more the Philippine news media whose budget and might, are just a fraction of what giant networks have at their disposal?
Three months into the year and the country’s networks are already griping over costly deployments and newsrooms feel like it’s been dumped with a year’s worth of coverage.
And 2011 is far from over. The La Nina enhanced typhoon season in the coming quarter is sure to bring damage and desperation to our countrymen that coverage alone would require sizable resources already. Who knows what else lies ahead? Another Ondoy?
This early PHIVOLCS—inspired by the Japan experience—has also revived talks on how an intense quake similar to Japan’s, could bring the Philippines to its knees. Our very own “big one” shall reap casualties in the hundreds of thousands—and covering all that human misery is a chilling outlook for news media (knock on wood).
While the Philippines is not smack in the middle of the recent killer quakes, waves, and wars for the moment, we are still affected by every world problem via collateral damage. Filipinos are an omnipresent people and it’s highly likely that every nook and cranny of this planet has a Filipino in it. By and large, the costs of chasing stories to the ends of the earth are higher than the GDP’s of Batanes.
Hence catastrophic events outside our land can either reap Filipino victims or Filipinos waiting to be saved—either way, media covers. If a tragedy or war strikes Saudi Arabia for instance, evacuating about a million OFW’s is a humongous problem for the government and a major production for news networks.
That kind operation is like saving an entire city with the sheer number of lives at stake as the number of Filipinos in Saudi Arabia is even greater than the population of some of our cities. In Libya and Egypt alone when OFW’s had to be evacuated news teams covering the exodus of Filipinos, racked up fare, hotel, food and miscellaneous expenses running in the millions.
But more overwhelming than cost of news, is a tragedy’s toll on man himself. When an earthquake and tsunami hit Japan, news media again penetrated the ruined and radioactive cities not just to look for Filipinos and their stories. Media played rescuer and gave hope, by providing assistance to the confused, the desperate and the trapped.
Next to the Department of Foreign Affairs, it is in media that OFW’s seek during desperate times. Just like government, the job of media goes beyond the coverage—as it offers public service. Panicking relatives of Filipinos come to media for both information and assistance especially when they cannot rely on government for these.
Lastly, news media’s job comes with more risks than ever. In the Japan coverage safety concerns over radiation from damaged nuclear plants in Fukushima exposed reporters to new threats such as radiation contamination. In Libya news media could get caught in the crossfire, or targeted just like everyone else.
Amid all these, journalists need debriefing. As human beings, no journalist (no matter how veteran or cynical) leaves the coverage unaffected by the traumatic experiences he had to witness, and tell about.
Debriefing allows people on the ground to talk about their experiences to experts such as psychologists who can help them process their feelings towards these experiences. Debriefing also readies the journalist for yet another tragic, breaking news story--which by recent experience--could come any moment.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The battle of Sibuyan
(Photo by Rodne Rodino Galicha)
MANILA, Philippines - Its monicker, “Galapagos of Asia” alludes to its natural sanctuaries where migratory birds rest and nest. The island of Sibuyan in central Philippines is “an Important Bird Area (IBA)” to conservation group Haribon Foundation.
Sibuyan is oppulently gifted than many of the country’s islands. It cradles flora and fauna uniquely its own with over half of its tree species found nowhere else on earth.
Biodiversity and endemism rates in Sibuyan are among the world’s highest with 131 species of birds, 10 species of fruit bats, and 123 species of trees considering it home. Species of mammals, rodents and reptiles thrive incognito, deep in the forests of Mount Guiting-Guiting, waiting to be named by some conscientious discoverer.
Sibuyan’s “exceptionally clean” inland waters nurture forests and crops that, in turn, sustain its inhabitants abundantly. The sea surrounding this crescent-shaped island is a bustling marine metropolis.
But behind this picture-perfect paradise, a war rages on.
Irresistible Sibuyan
Immense treasures lie beneath Sibuyan’s bossom. Nickel, gold, manganese, limestone and silica quartz have lured fortune-seeking mining companies that by 2009, a total of 24 mining applications have been submitted, encouraged by the country’s liberal mining policy cast in stone by the Philippine Mining Act of 1995.
These applications encompass 42% of the entire island. Before any large-scale mining activity could begin, mining companies need to level hectares upon hectares of Sibuyan’s forests—its prized endemic species facing untimely demise.
Pro-environment group Kalikasan-People’s Network for the Environment (Kalikasan-PNE) pegs total mining investments in the country at $ 2.8 Billion from 2003 to 2009, and Sibuyan is to contribute greatly to gains from these ventures.
Mercury rising
Increasing mercury levels have been detected in Sibuyan’s air and water. Pro-environment group Ban Toxics had released this month, the disconcerting results of its mercury vapor tests on the island.
Mercury, which is used by small-scale miners to process gold from ore, is a highly toxic chemical that can cause organ failure or harm the nervous system, and waste water containing mercury can harm wildlife and the communities near the mining sites.
Among these is the Mangyan indigenous peoples. The group holds an ancestral domain certificate for at least 20% of the entire island. In the age of climate change, these communities also bear the brunt of future flashfloods from the balding of Sibuyan.
A lonely battle
Residents take it upon themselves to guard their treasures well when threatened. But the war against mining was not without wages. Among its casualties is anti-mining advocate Armin Marin, who, in 2007, was gunned down by a mine guard.
Marin, a former councilor and employee of the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) led a peaceful anti-mining rally when he was shot at close range in the mouth—an ominous message that those vocal against mining will be silenced.
The people of Sibuyan had fought mining through rallies, position papers, signature drives and alliances with pro-environment groups. Local government has sided with the people—in stark contrast to national government’s over enthusiasm for mining.
Tug of war in mining policy
The government is aware of the staggering costs of mining to the environment but made no consideration. With its Mining Revitalization Program, the entire country is even opened to indiscriminate mining.
Within the last decade, late Environment Secretary Angelo Reyes approved a plan of mining companies to cut some 70,000 trees in San Fernando, Sibuyan to pave the way for exploration. In 2009, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources under then Secretary Lito Atienza received flack for granting a permit to Canadian firm Altai Resources, through its subsidiary Altai Philippines Mining Corporation, to mine nickel in over 1,800 hectares of Sibuyan Island. These were met with strong opposition from residents.
Local government, on the other hand, supported anti-mining causes. Governor Eduardo Firmalino released Executive Order No. 1 series of 2011, enforcing an indefinite moratorium on metallic mining in the province, as a result of alarming mercury levels in Romblon's air and water.
The ban on exploration, excavation, extraction, and utilization of metallic minerals in the province of Romblon shall be in effect until all issues, fears and concerns raised by the different sectors, organizations, associations and local communities are addressed substantially.
Demanding climate justice
In the month of December, residents of San Fernando Sibuyan hold their annual “Pag-alad Festival,”which reinforces the people’s committment to defend the environment, whatever the costs. During the festival, the people of San Fernando Sibuyan pray to their patroness, Our Lady Of Immaculate Conception, whom they believe will intercede for those who protect life and the environment.
Sibuyan’s war against mining may not be a success story just yet as the struggle persists. But it is all the more dire and tragic if the island falls and fails, for doing nothing.
Survivor: Banished in Batangas
By: Stanley Palisada
A bored, female voice answered my call to the Munting Buhangin Resort booking office. It’s website promised a white sand beach experience in Nasugbu, Batangas. Backed by Boracay-like pictures, we fell for the seduction. “A place perfect to strengthen family ties,” reinforced the internet.
“Our family room costs 5,100 a day excluding entrance fee of 190 pesos per head. 50 percent down payment should be deposited to our bank account. Deposit slip with your name, address, company and home number should be faxed immediately, for the CONTRACT,” she said.
There’s a contract? “Can we just walk in?” I interjected.
“We will not guarantee a room unless you reserve,” she scared me.
While most resorts would do everything to entice guests, this one was snooty and made us feel like social climbers booking for Amanpulo, Maldives or some other celebrity enclave in France. We decided to just drive over, for the sake of adventure.
Munting Buhangin is just one in a string of resorts in Nasugbu Batangas. Nestled beside prime leisure properties such as Punta Fuego we expected decent amenities and service at the very least.
We turned into its entrance gate atop a hill. A security guard handed over a car pass and radioed the receptionist to expect us. We were told to drive further down a very steep slope that zigzagged for about a kilometer. Half the drive was on a well-paved road which deteriorated into cracked cement slabs towards the end. Another security guard pointed us to a parking area in the forest.
“Hanggang dito na lang ang sasakyan sir,” said the guard. “Bibitbitin nyo yung gamit nyo pababa ng resort,” he added.
We descended via concrete stairs with about 100 steps. This is not easy with bags, inflatables, the heat, the Christmas binge and a pesky 4-year old in tow.
“Pwede nyo po pabitbit yung mga dala nyo magbayad kayo singkwenta sa magdadala,” the guard suggested. We took the advise.
We reached the resort, gasping for air and seeing stars in broad noontime. The sand was my first shocker. I thought I was just dizzy from all the walking but the sand was not really white like in the picture. It was ash-gray-black. But sand was the least of my problems.
The cottages were dilapidated and the world’s most hostile receptionist attended to us. She coordinated our check-in with military temperament, where military precision would have sufficed (took half an hour to fix everything). There was no greeting, just an unwelcoming frown. My wife would have waged World War 3 over customer service violations if not for her own exhaustion.
I looked around and saw plastic benches and cottages in total disarray and people grilling assorted animal carcasses. A restaurant stood uninhabited. We would later discover that food prices there are comparable to posh restaurants but not commensurate to their “evacuation center quality”.
An eardrum-busting Videoke blurted Eva Eugenio’s “Tukso” sang by an old woman whose talents do not include singing. On the sand drunks, beer bottles, cigarette butts and plastic bags lay where seashells used to be. At the beach multitudes swam there was hardly room for waves. The beach front chaos is worse than the heart of Boracay Station 3. Even Villa beach or the Navotas and Malabon shorelines in the 70’s were probably more serene.
Our room in the apartment style building was a couple of steps up a ravine in the jungle—disputing another internet promise of “waking up to a carefree beach”. Instead, wilderness and Dengue mostquitoes adorned our doorstep.
I asked for paradise and was given the rain forest.
We shared our rickety bunker with termites and other critters who were more considerate than the people in the other rooms. As early as lunch time our neighbors spilled onto the common terrace in alcoholic merriment oblivious to peace and order or our mental health.
Once settled, we ordered late lunch and paid over 1000 pesos for chicken barbecue basted with banana catsup and overcooked, third class rice just as gray as the sand. All the other guests (probably not first timers) brought their own food as they knew better. We did not. The website boasted of a full service restaurant but didn’t say it closed at 6 p.m., padlocked all the fridges and left no key to the night staff so overnight guests will die of thirst.
At around 9 in the evening we sat by the beach, parched, hungry and angry. There was nothing to drink. A lone bottle of water was reserved for our son’s milk. I thought of driving all the way to Nasugbu town for drinks and food but my wife thought it was too risky.
This must be the “strengthening of family ties” this resort is promoting. For hungrier or thirstier, till death do us part.
At this time of night Koreans have taken over the Videoke machine and sang their off-key Lady Gagas and Justin Beibers, torturing us until we lost consciousness.
“Could this get any worse?” I asked my wife at bedtime as my life flashed before my eyes.
“Patience, the staff assured us that the restaurant opens at 6:30,” she said, half-convinced. The next day, restaurant opened at almost 10 a.m. We were so thirsty and famished we could have devoured the receptionist if we tried.
That’s Munting Serbisyo, rather.. Munting Buhangin for you. We decided to just pack up, leave and never look back.
- 30 -
Quotes from my favorite Teleserye
By: Stanley Palisada
It's the number one soap opera in the land, now playing (in full) on cable news and (in part) on free-to-air channels. The ongoing probe into corruption at the Armed Forces of the Philippines has all the elements of a top-rating "teleserye" earning a cult following among its victims, the entire Filipino people.
It is easy to explain why. These hearings are grossly informative, visually compelling (especially the facial expressions and reactions), and unquestionably infuriating. I am entertained in an absurd way. Its theme—greed and corruption—hitting every Filipino taxpayer to the very core, especially those who are broke.
It is also a rich source of interesting soundbites. Ive taken down a few while trying to stay composed watching the televised hearings without Valium. Blood pressure is bound to shoot up from overused responses, "I invoke my right to self-incrimination".
If the probe were a movie, "I invoke my right to self-incrimination" would be its title. Other contenders for title are “I forgot” and “I can’t remember” with Amnesiac generals using them as salva vida when the going gets tough.
“Don’t press your luck, I have handled more people than you can ever handle”, a quote summing up Senator Juan Ponce Enrile's exasperation.
It can be a peeve not getting straight answers from the crooked. Good thing Senator Jinggoy Estrada is able to manage a joke amid his desperation, “General Limot…este Ligot”.
“I forgot” or “I can’t remember” can even strip an officer of gentlemanliness. It had been a revelation seeing Senator Antonio Trillanes go haywire over Angelo Reyes’ "I am just trying to defend my name here".
"If you are so concerned about your name sana nag ayos kayo while you were in office. You do not have any reputation to protect”! Trillanes spewed, his tone dripping with vengeance. “This is the day of reckoning. You better find yourself a good lawyer”.
Our story’s hero and heroine, George Rabusa and Heidi Mendoza also spoke words cast in stone. Rabusa might as well take credit for the new whistle blower’s creed: “I started this so I need to finish it. I won’t turn my back on this. I have nothing to lose. I’ve lost everything already, including fear”.
Meantime Mendoza, in this thickening plot of deceit and conspiracy can best be remembered for her motherhood statement, “I appeared before this committee if only to tell our fellow Filipino people and the lowly soldiers that hindi lahat ng Pilipino ay corrupt”.
This endeared her to Senator Miriam Santiago. “I love Heidi Mendoza. I admire her a lot. She must be a very brave woman” Santiago raves. “Are you sure we were not sisters in the previous life?”.
Santiago is seldom caught in a good mood during the hearings. One bad hair day she even waged “biological warfare” against Reyes’ lawyer who wanted “biased” senators inhibited from the hearings.
“It is contemptuous, a revelation of utmost ignorance. That kind of ignorance can only come from a one-celled amoeba" Santiago went ballistic—her “one-celled amoeba” just as memorable as “Fungus Face”, a missive directed at FVR in the 1992 presidential elections.
Our blockbuster also has its light moments, one of which we to owe to Ombudsman Merceditas Gutierrez who charmed her way for the mic with, “Since crush niyo ako, may I say something?”
Her mood swings though, went from cute to doomsday-serious and used the name of the heavens in vain: “We can swear to God, kung may kumita dito, tamaan ng kidlat at mamatay na ngayon din”!
But to me the most memorable Merceditas Gutierrez quote is one that’s less controversial but nonetheless loaded. When she said “We don’t want to rush Mr. Chairman” I was enlightened as to why the cases at the Ombudsman have dragged and piled up to mountainous heights.
The senate hearings also gave a peek at the marital dynamics of those involved. Senator Estrada invoked matrimonial powers to wring answers from tongue-tied Ligot.
“Pag di ka pa sumagot mapipilitan akong ipatawag ang misis nyo. Gusto nyo ba ipatawag ko pa misis nyo?” Estrada juxtaposed.
Some of the nation’s generous husbands are facing the probe. Husbands who showered their wives with off-shore properties, frequent flyer privileges and everlasting affluence. In fairness to the husbands it’s the wives that allegedly enjoyed the high life from day-one, while their better halves have tip-toed through corruption in constant fear of being exposed.
Again, Senator Miriam Santiago puts in perspective just how staggering corruption is, in the AFP: "Kung alam ko lang na ganito pala ang lakas at lawak ng pagnanakaw sa ating bansa, nag-suicide na ako noong pinanganak ako ng nanay ko. Oras na lumitaw ako sa nanay ko, dapat diyan ay hinugot ko na ‘yung umbilical cord at tinali ko sa leeg ko at nagpakamatay na lang ako”.
Now that suicidal quote to me, is earth-shaking. But someone beat her to it.
It's the number one soap opera in the land, now playing (in full) on cable news and (in part) on free-to-air channels. The ongoing probe into corruption at the Armed Forces of the Philippines has all the elements of a top-rating "teleserye" earning a cult following among its victims, the entire Filipino people.
It is easy to explain why. These hearings are grossly informative, visually compelling (especially the facial expressions and reactions), and unquestionably infuriating. I am entertained in an absurd way. Its theme—greed and corruption—hitting every Filipino taxpayer to the very core, especially those who are broke.
It is also a rich source of interesting soundbites. Ive taken down a few while trying to stay composed watching the televised hearings without Valium. Blood pressure is bound to shoot up from overused responses, "I invoke my right to self-incrimination".
If the probe were a movie, "I invoke my right to self-incrimination" would be its title. Other contenders for title are “I forgot” and “I can’t remember” with Amnesiac generals using them as salva vida when the going gets tough.
“Don’t press your luck, I have handled more people than you can ever handle”, a quote summing up Senator Juan Ponce Enrile's exasperation.
It can be a peeve not getting straight answers from the crooked. Good thing Senator Jinggoy Estrada is able to manage a joke amid his desperation, “General Limot…este Ligot”.
“I forgot” or “I can’t remember” can even strip an officer of gentlemanliness. It had been a revelation seeing Senator Antonio Trillanes go haywire over Angelo Reyes’ "I am just trying to defend my name here".
"If you are so concerned about your name sana nag ayos kayo while you were in office. You do not have any reputation to protect”! Trillanes spewed, his tone dripping with vengeance. “This is the day of reckoning. You better find yourself a good lawyer”.
Our story’s hero and heroine, George Rabusa and Heidi Mendoza also spoke words cast in stone. Rabusa might as well take credit for the new whistle blower’s creed: “I started this so I need to finish it. I won’t turn my back on this. I have nothing to lose. I’ve lost everything already, including fear”.
Meantime Mendoza, in this thickening plot of deceit and conspiracy can best be remembered for her motherhood statement, “I appeared before this committee if only to tell our fellow Filipino people and the lowly soldiers that hindi lahat ng Pilipino ay corrupt”.
This endeared her to Senator Miriam Santiago. “I love Heidi Mendoza. I admire her a lot. She must be a very brave woman” Santiago raves. “Are you sure we were not sisters in the previous life?”.
Santiago is seldom caught in a good mood during the hearings. One bad hair day she even waged “biological warfare” against Reyes’ lawyer who wanted “biased” senators inhibited from the hearings.
“It is contemptuous, a revelation of utmost ignorance. That kind of ignorance can only come from a one-celled amoeba" Santiago went ballistic—her “one-celled amoeba” just as memorable as “Fungus Face”, a missive directed at FVR in the 1992 presidential elections.
Our blockbuster also has its light moments, one of which we to owe to Ombudsman Merceditas Gutierrez who charmed her way for the mic with, “Since crush niyo ako, may I say something?”
Her mood swings though, went from cute to doomsday-serious and used the name of the heavens in vain: “We can swear to God, kung may kumita dito, tamaan ng kidlat at mamatay na ngayon din”!
But to me the most memorable Merceditas Gutierrez quote is one that’s less controversial but nonetheless loaded. When she said “We don’t want to rush Mr. Chairman” I was enlightened as to why the cases at the Ombudsman have dragged and piled up to mountainous heights.
The senate hearings also gave a peek at the marital dynamics of those involved. Senator Estrada invoked matrimonial powers to wring answers from tongue-tied Ligot.
“Pag di ka pa sumagot mapipilitan akong ipatawag ang misis nyo. Gusto nyo ba ipatawag ko pa misis nyo?” Estrada juxtaposed.
Some of the nation’s generous husbands are facing the probe. Husbands who showered their wives with off-shore properties, frequent flyer privileges and everlasting affluence. In fairness to the husbands it’s the wives that allegedly enjoyed the high life from day-one, while their better halves have tip-toed through corruption in constant fear of being exposed.
Again, Senator Miriam Santiago puts in perspective just how staggering corruption is, in the AFP: "Kung alam ko lang na ganito pala ang lakas at lawak ng pagnanakaw sa ating bansa, nag-suicide na ako noong pinanganak ako ng nanay ko. Oras na lumitaw ako sa nanay ko, dapat diyan ay hinugot ko na ‘yung umbilical cord at tinali ko sa leeg ko at nagpakamatay na lang ako”.
Now that suicidal quote to me, is earth-shaking. But someone beat her to it.
In the footsteps of Nauru
By: Stanley Palisada
It’s like a scene from an alien movie—bizarre, jagged coral stones—spread across hectares of shoreline. The surface of an uncharted planet from some distant star could look like this. In the stillness and drab, these coral formations mimic tombstones, perhaps marking tragedy in the island’s past. And despite the roaring waves from the south Pacific careening into shore, an eerie silence grips a traveler for what he sees around him is the poignant tale of the island country of Nauru.
But it was not always like this. Centuries ago, the island was the paradise that adventurers with their tall sea tales have spoken about. A small island against the emerald waters of the Pacific Ocean, Nauru’s shores are lined by palm trees on a ring of white sand beaches. Being marooned on the rich and beautiful paradise of Nauru is anything but unfortunate. Nauru’s bounties could sustain life and its inhabitants are a gentle people of Melanesian origins—a farming and seafaring tribe.
A passing explorer in the 1700’s once named it, Pleasant Island where climate was—pleasantly tropical. Bananas, mangoes and a host of other trees thrived in this 21-square kilometer Eden which is a sanctuary of some of the world’s most colorful birds.
These birds would bequeath on Nauru, a priceless gift that would see the country to its legendary rise and eventual doom. For millions of years the millions of birds that visited or lived on the island deposited Phosphate, an inorganic chemical which is mined to obtain Phosphorus. Phosphorus is essential in agriculture and industry. In the early 1900’s the mining of Phosphate began in the island. Profits from mining were split between Britain and Nauru’s colonizer, Germany. The islanders did not mind. They were gainfully employed in the mine sites.
Forests were leveled and mining thrived and generated profits beyond their wildest dreams. The lucrative mining in Nauru drew envy. Australia invaded the island in 1914 and two years later, the League of Nations gave Australia, Great Britain and New Zealand rights to divest Nauru’s mineral resources. Excavation and export of Phosphate continued for decades and by 1967 locals gained control over mining and declared their independence. In the next three decades Nauru had the highest per capita income of any Pacific nation.
The people did not have to work hard. There was even no need to pay taxes as mining and its fruits took care of everything. Nauru’s citizens enjoyed subsidies including free medical services and airlifts to Australia’s hospitals. Everything in the country is imported including food since they hardly grew their own. There was mining money to pay for everything.
Only when Nauru realized that Phosphate is not inexhaustible did it scramble to arrest a grim future that lay not too far ahead. A royalty trust was set up to invest gains from mining. Nauru even demanded its colonizers to pay about 90 million US Dollars in royalties. But these only provided a short economic reprieve for at the turn of the century Nauru’s financial woes worsened. Government failed to pay its debts and creditors are after them.
With the island’s Phosphates running out today, the people of Nauru stare out into their sea of coral tombstones and farther into uncertainty.
* * * *
Just northwest of Nauru lies the Philippines, whose government’s enthusiasm for mining is awe-inspiring despite scary stories from risen and fallen countries that have succumbed to mining.
As the Philippines is in mining revitalization mode, investors are assured that there shall be no resistance to their activities here as long jobs are generated and revenues gush in. Never mind if mining will shave off trees, level mountains, displace communities and pollute air or river at a time when the global is warming up.
At the peak of inconsistency our government claims it is in the forefront of the war against global warming and climate change, while on the other hand it is subservient to multinational mining companies that dangle $ 3 Billion gains from mining in the Philippines.
Senator Edgardo Angara who heads the Congressional Commission on Science and Technology Engineering said, that the country should still take advantage of mining investments as long as the environment is protected and social development in mining communities is prioritized.
But can this really be done? We have no track record in responsible mining nor sustainable development in this country. What we have are bald mountains, over mined regions, mining communities impoverished waiting for tragedy to bury them in the graveyards mining companies have dug up in advance.
In the era of climate change and given our country’s vulnerability to floods, typhoons, and landslides, the consequences of mining is guaranteed, death.
* * * *
We need 10 Million signatures to signify our resistance to mining in Palawan which is the country’s last ecological frontier. Tell your friends about it. Forms can be downloaded from website: www.no@mininginpalawan.com.
Signed forms may be sent via JRS (free of charge) to ABS CBN Foundation, Mother Ignacia Street, Diliman Quezon City.
No to mining in Palawan, or anywhere else in the Philippines! #30
It’s like a scene from an alien movie—bizarre, jagged coral stones—spread across hectares of shoreline. The surface of an uncharted planet from some distant star could look like this. In the stillness and drab, these coral formations mimic tombstones, perhaps marking tragedy in the island’s past. And despite the roaring waves from the south Pacific careening into shore, an eerie silence grips a traveler for what he sees around him is the poignant tale of the island country of Nauru.
But it was not always like this. Centuries ago, the island was the paradise that adventurers with their tall sea tales have spoken about. A small island against the emerald waters of the Pacific Ocean, Nauru’s shores are lined by palm trees on a ring of white sand beaches. Being marooned on the rich and beautiful paradise of Nauru is anything but unfortunate. Nauru’s bounties could sustain life and its inhabitants are a gentle people of Melanesian origins—a farming and seafaring tribe.
A passing explorer in the 1700’s once named it, Pleasant Island where climate was—pleasantly tropical. Bananas, mangoes and a host of other trees thrived in this 21-square kilometer Eden which is a sanctuary of some of the world’s most colorful birds.
These birds would bequeath on Nauru, a priceless gift that would see the country to its legendary rise and eventual doom. For millions of years the millions of birds that visited or lived on the island deposited Phosphate, an inorganic chemical which is mined to obtain Phosphorus. Phosphorus is essential in agriculture and industry. In the early 1900’s the mining of Phosphate began in the island. Profits from mining were split between Britain and Nauru’s colonizer, Germany. The islanders did not mind. They were gainfully employed in the mine sites.
Forests were leveled and mining thrived and generated profits beyond their wildest dreams. The lucrative mining in Nauru drew envy. Australia invaded the island in 1914 and two years later, the League of Nations gave Australia, Great Britain and New Zealand rights to divest Nauru’s mineral resources. Excavation and export of Phosphate continued for decades and by 1967 locals gained control over mining and declared their independence. In the next three decades Nauru had the highest per capita income of any Pacific nation.
The people did not have to work hard. There was even no need to pay taxes as mining and its fruits took care of everything. Nauru’s citizens enjoyed subsidies including free medical services and airlifts to Australia’s hospitals. Everything in the country is imported including food since they hardly grew their own. There was mining money to pay for everything.
Only when Nauru realized that Phosphate is not inexhaustible did it scramble to arrest a grim future that lay not too far ahead. A royalty trust was set up to invest gains from mining. Nauru even demanded its colonizers to pay about 90 million US Dollars in royalties. But these only provided a short economic reprieve for at the turn of the century Nauru’s financial woes worsened. Government failed to pay its debts and creditors are after them.
With the island’s Phosphates running out today, the people of Nauru stare out into their sea of coral tombstones and farther into uncertainty.
* * * *
Just northwest of Nauru lies the Philippines, whose government’s enthusiasm for mining is awe-inspiring despite scary stories from risen and fallen countries that have succumbed to mining.
As the Philippines is in mining revitalization mode, investors are assured that there shall be no resistance to their activities here as long jobs are generated and revenues gush in. Never mind if mining will shave off trees, level mountains, displace communities and pollute air or river at a time when the global is warming up.
At the peak of inconsistency our government claims it is in the forefront of the war against global warming and climate change, while on the other hand it is subservient to multinational mining companies that dangle $ 3 Billion gains from mining in the Philippines.
Senator Edgardo Angara who heads the Congressional Commission on Science and Technology Engineering said, that the country should still take advantage of mining investments as long as the environment is protected and social development in mining communities is prioritized.
But can this really be done? We have no track record in responsible mining nor sustainable development in this country. What we have are bald mountains, over mined regions, mining communities impoverished waiting for tragedy to bury them in the graveyards mining companies have dug up in advance.
In the era of climate change and given our country’s vulnerability to floods, typhoons, and landslides, the consequences of mining is guaranteed, death.
* * * *
We need 10 Million signatures to signify our resistance to mining in Palawan which is the country’s last ecological frontier. Tell your friends about it. Forms can be downloaded from website: www.no@mininginpalawan.com.
Signed forms may be sent via JRS (free of charge) to ABS CBN Foundation, Mother Ignacia Street, Diliman Quezon City.
No to mining in Palawan, or anywhere else in the Philippines! #30
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