Martin Luther King on the Corona Impeachment

Sunday, January 15, is Martin Luther King Jr. day in the USA.

That day, I briefly Googled for quotes from this modern day prophet, as a simple way of honoring him, and to serve as my “liturgy of the word” for the Sunday.  And since Monday was to be the start of the impeachment proceedings against Chief Justice Corona, I hoped I might find some relevant words from Dr. King.

But Girlie and I had to go to the Body Talk orientation session given by our good friend Dorothy Friesen (a kindred spirit of Dr. King, an activist for social justice and peace). I didn’t have time to find what I was looking for.

Monday was so full of meetings, I didn’t have time to catch even the start of the impeachment. But today, at Tuesday’s end, I found some time to resume my search. And I did find quotes from Dr. King that speak to me about the Corona impeachment, though not always as I expected:

Law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. 

Never forget that everything Hitler did in Germany was legal.

Dr. King’s words can cut both ways, though my initial interpretation was tilted by my political bias in favor of the PNoy presidency.

On some positions, Cowardice asks the question, “Is it safe?” Expediency asks the question, “Is it politic?” And Vanity comes along and asks the question, “Is it popular?” But Conscience asks the question “Is it right?” And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but he must do it because Conscience tells him it is right.

Obviously, Dr. King’s words address quite a different context and different issues. But I take them as a healthy challenge to my present state of mind and heart about the impeachment process.

I must confess that I am not as excited and incensed as many friends, and do not feel the need to engage in public partisan debates on the issue. Hence, Dr. King’s words on taking a stand and taking sides poke my conscience, even if I am conscious that they do not really apply to the impeachment issue:

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. 

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

The hottest place in Hell is reserved for those who remain neutral in times of great moral conflict.

I take some comfort from another set of Dr. King’s observations on how some people conduct themselves, even in movements for change and significant political moments.

Whatever their final outcomes, such movements and moments offer opportunities for deeper and long-term political education. But this calls for effort and creativity. Dr. King’s observations reflect his share of disappointments and frustrations:

Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will.

Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.

Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think. 

I close with his wise and challenging call for the kind of leaders we need:

A genuine leader is not a searcher for consensus but a molder of consensus.

Thank you, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. And a belated Happy Birthday!

Poignant Words from Jose Rizal

For this year’s Rizal Day, I wanted to write something different from the usual. Possibly a review of Felice Sta. Maria’s book on The Foods of Jose Rizal.

While reading the first chapters of Felice’s book, I also checked Facebook for updates.

Clicking a link to Sonny San Juan’s article on Rizal, I found some quotations from Rizal that I have not read before. They are refreshingly different in tone from the better known quotations from Rizal. The word that came to mind is “poignant.”

Why not make a poster with some excerpts that speak to me, I thought. That would be a good way to remember Jose Rizal today. Here it is:

A few minutes after posting it, a number of Facebook friends “liked” the poster, but also asked: “Are these really Rizal’s words? Where and when did he write them?”

Unfortunately, the article of Sony San Juan did not have footnotes. But thanks to Google, I eventually found the source. Yes, the words are Rizal’s own. They are from a letter he wrote during his exile in Dapitan to Fr. Pastells S.J. It is dated November 11, 1892.

The time and setting of the letter partly explains the tone of Rizal’s message. He was in exile in Dapitan, but he was not yet faced with the prospect of being put on trial or condemned to death. It was not a situation calling for a heroic stance. The more immediate challenge must have been how to make full use of his considerable skills and energies in such limited circumstances.

In that context, I can understand the provocative impact of the note scribbled by Fr. Pastells on the first page of Thomas a Kempis’ The Imitation of Christ, which the priest had sent to him:  ”What a pity that such an excellent young man had not lavished his talents on the defense of better causes!”

Rizal’s measured response is directed to Fr. Pastells, but it is also reflection of the struggle within himself. That is the source of the poignant tone.

“ It is very possible that there are causes better than those I have embraced, but my cause is good and that is enough for me. Other causes will undoubtedly bring more profit, more renown, more honors, more glories, but the bamboo, in growing on this soil, comes to sustain nipa huts and not the heavy weights of European edifices. I do not regret neither the humbleness of my cause nor the meagerness of its rewards but the little talent that God has given me to serve it. If instead of weak bamboo I had been solid molave, better service I would be able to render. But He who has arranged it thus sees what the future brings, does not err in any of His acts, and knows very well for what use are even the smallest things.

” As to honor, fame, or profit that I might have reaped, I agree that all of this is tempting, especially to a young man of flesh and bone like myself, with so many weaknesses like anybody else. But, as nobody chooses the nationality nor the race to which he is born, and as at birth the privileges or the disadvantages inherent in both are found already created, I accept the cause of my country in the confidence that He who has made me a Filipino will forgive the mistakes I may commit in view of our difficult situation and the defective education that we receive from the time we are born. 

“ Besides, I do not aspire to eternal fame or renown; I do not aspire to equal others whose conditions, faculties, and circumstances may be and are in reality different from mine; my only desire is to do what is possible, what is within my power, what is most necessary. I have glimpsed a little light, and I believe I ought to show it to my countrymen.“

Re-reading Rizal’s words, I think that they speak to our generation of activists, about the choices we made, and the consequences we accepted.

Celebrating Christmas after Sendong

After Sendong, it is impossible to think of celebrating Christmas and not  think about Cagayan de Oro and Iligan.

Christmas is family reunions, around the the media noche table. That is what we will have in Lucena tonight, with the gathering of the Villariba clan.

But there will be no reunions and media noche meals for thousands of families whose houses have been swept away by Sendong, and who are still anxiously hoping to find missing members, or mourning their dead.

The day before Christmas, I re-read what others have written about Sendong and its aftermath. There are many words of compassion and wisdom. I choose three that continue to occupy my mind and heart.

The first is from friends at Balay Mindanaw Foundation Incorporated:

We refuse to be victims. We are resources.

When news of Sendong’s destructive impact broke, Girlie and I thought of friends at BMFI whom we have known for a decade and whose Facebook status we regularly check.  Kaloy Manlupig was quick to send the first updates. Ayi Hernandez’ personal story gave us a gripping sense of the risks and the responses. After accounting for all the BMFI staff and their families, many of whom took shelter in the Balay Mindanaw Peace Center, they focused their time and energies on assisting the families and communities assigned to them. They have been issuing regular bulletins about their work and the donations they have received.

Their work inspires us. But also their words, which they first heard from another Asian peace activist.

The second is from Atty. Tony La Vina’s article, After Sendong, 10 Things We Must Do:

Avoid distractions and blame games, but exact accountability.

“Although this is certainly not the time for blame games, accountability must be exacted. In other countries, notably in Japan, officials take themselves out of the equation by resigning and taking responsibility. Unfortunately, we do not have that tradition here. And so I welcome the task forces created by the President to investigate what happened, although I would have preferred an independent commission to do this job to have more objective findings. Nevertheless when they finish, I hope they will file the appropriate criminal, civil and administrative cases against accountable officials. I would especially want charged those officials who abetted the activities that exacerbated the disaster, or those which had the information and the power to prevent it (but negligently did not do so).”

The third is the title of the pastoral letter of Archbishop Tony Ledesma SJ:

A Time to Grieve, A Time to Build

After Ondoy, we worked together in the Climate Change Congress of the Philippines (CCCP). Although our initial focus was on MetroManila and national policies, Archbishop Tony consistently drew our attention to the precarious situation of Cagayan de Oro and its endangered watershed.

“In some of our churches, the Misa de Gallo could not be celebrated because the church became a refuge for families seeking higher ground.  In one chapel, even pigs and other animals were brought in and tied at the foot of the altar.  Lay ministers were scandalized until the parish priest reminded them that this must have been the same situation in the stable of that first Christmas night…

“The longer-term challenge is to help these families re-build their present homes or re-locate to safer grounds.  We are heartened by the visit of President Aquino and other public officials.  His declaration of a state of national calamity and observation that families should not be allowed to return to extremely dangerous areas are welcome statements.  Last January 2009, the city had already experienced severe flooding.  Some old-time residents recalled that this phenomenom happens every forty years.  But barely three years after that, Typhoon Sendong came with greater vengeance.

“We have to cast a broader look at the entire river basin area of Cagayan de Oro River.  This extends to the northwestern part of Bukidnon and surrounding areas.  Illegal logging and irresponsible mining activities have contributed to the degradation of the environment and the siltation of the river bed.  The erection of man-made structures may have also impeded the natural flow of the waters. (The continued hydraulic flush mining along Iponan River has likewise caused widespread flooding of the Canitoan-Iponan areas of the city.) It is for these reasons that we have to strengthen the Cagayan de Oro River Basin Management Council, a multi-sectoral effort to protect and conserve our most precious natural resource after our human resources – the river system.

“As we approach Christmas week and the coming of the new year, may I propose a Family-Adopt-a- Family program.  Families unaffected by the flood can invite to their homes an evacuee family, especially those that have lost their homes or loved ones, for a few days or for a Christmas meal to share the spirit of the season. May the new-born child in the manger fill us with the spirit of solidarity in moments of adversity and hope in the sharing of love and life with one another.  “Make us know the shortness of our life that we may gain wisdom of heart” (Ps. 90).

When Will They Ever Learn?

The eve of November 1, especially if it is a holiday, triggers reflections about death. But also about life, since today is also the official birth of the 7 billionth person on earth.

Pancho Lara’s reflections on war and peace in Mindanao which he asked me to post in my blog, has also appeared in today’s Inquirer.

He steered my attention to another piece worth sharing. It is by Ed Quitoriano, and I am posting it here for you to appreciate.

Ed Q, as he is known to friends, brings a perspective and authority to the discussion that is rooted in decades of his direct experience and observations about war and peace, in the Philippines and in other countries, notably Indonesia and Aceh.

Killing and Dying for Peace

Ed Quitoriano

War making is an extension of politics by any means and war machines are the instruments by which political aims are achieved. Warriors may be trained to professionalize war making but they are not thrilled to kill or be killed for the sake of war.  As Sun Tzu would say, “the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting” adding that, ”what is of supreme importance in war is to attack the enemy’s strategy.”

The GPH and MILF have already laid out their strategic frameworks – the primacy of the Philippine Constitution and integrity of the Republic, on the one hand, and, the creation of a Bangsa Moro sub-state, on the other.  Since its emergence in 1978, the MILF has reframed its strategic agenda from secession and full Islamic independence to the creation of a self-determining, Shariah-based, cluster of autonomous areas within a sub-state. Meanwhile, the GPH has not reframed its strategic agenda in dealing with the MILF and other armed challengers – be it the MNLF, NDFP or MILF:  it is the primacy of the Constitution and the integrity of the republic.

Politico-military leaders who remain impervious to change produce a protracted and costly process. However, these costs are bearable compared to the economic and human costs of war. No country will ever benefit from protracted armed struggle except in hindsight – by producing the knowledge and literature that tell readers how to better deal with violent conflict in the future. Whether that knowledge is actually used is an entirely different matter.

In Aceh, the Gerakan Aceh Merdeka (GAM) and the Government of Indonesia fought a three-decade long war for roughly the same intentions expressed by the MILF and the GPH: one seeking independence, the other seeking the integrity of the Indonesian Republic.  Both had earlier histories of war making against colonialism, independently deriving their own strategic frameworks from the map drawn by the Dutch colonizer.

When strategies become vulnerable to public attack, both politicians and military commanders scramble for the best discourse to frame their strategies – often forgetting the costs already incurred.  In thirty years of war prior to the 2005 Helsinki MOU, both sides paid lip service to peaceful negotiations as a strategy. Instead, they communicated through bullets and bombs and allowed military tactics to take command of strategies.

The Indonesian government launched at least three major military offensives in Aceh: first in 1989 when it declared the province as “Daerah Operasi Militer (DOM)” or area of special military operations, announcing the death of GAM in 1996 and withdrawing military forces in 1998; second, in 2001-2002; and, third, in 2003-2004, through the onslaught of the Tsunami in December 2004.  All military offensives have been bloody and dislocated civilian populations. The death toll reached 15,000 lives.  In the first offensive, Amnesty International estimated 7,000 human rights violations.

Intense and bloody warfare always provokes the leaders of competing politico-military forces to pause and confront the grim realities on the ground. As the body count increases and the sheer scale of destruction becomes a living nightmare, warriors begin to question their own humanity. Like their forebears in other conflicts, their concern over the fate of their buddies, rather the objectives of the conflict, becomes more pronounced. They begin to swear allegiance to each other, rather than the State. To be sure, some may actually lose their grip on humanity and unleash more death and destruction, but others begin to question the seeming madness of it all.

No matter how professional a war machine becomes, there is a sense of humanity among warriors. Generals far removed from the frontline often see this as only an erosion of the command and control structure. During the DOM,  the Indonesian military command noted some cracks – some officers not only getting reluctant to fight an all out war but also transferring weapons to the GAM, either out of guilt or sympathy for the enemy cause. During the second offensive in 2001, the Indonesian military commander, Gen. Bambang, had to motivate his troops. At one point, he was caught on TV camera telling his troops that the GAM guerrillas were “monopolizing bird’s nests and selling them to the Chinese for medicine.” He also bragged that he had punished hundreds of Indonesian soldiers for human rights violations – “for shooting chickens owned by civilians.”

Aceh is more than 90 percent Acehnese but even the GAM had to worry about public support for the cause without which its military machine would have problems of recruitment, intelligence and supplies. If Bambang had invented the stealing of “birds’ nests” as a way to motivate the troops, the GAM had its own bogey – “the Javanese enemy.” Equating the Indonesian government to a Javanese government is not too distant from Nur Misuari’s portrayal of Filipinos as “Philipinos” and “colonos”, the heirs of King Philip II of Spain and the government as the heir-colonizer.

In contemporary civil wars, politicians and military commanders could easily motivate the troops by portraying rebels as terrorists, lawless elements or bandits. Rebels would return the favor by portraying government soldiers as mercenaries, fascists and human rights violators.  The general public and the media had to decipher communications exchanged via bullets and bravado rather than intelligent discourse on political aims. In the war machines, military tactics then override political strategies if only to inspire warriors to fight to the death.

Two AFP military commanders have been sacked in the aftermath of the Al Barka clash where 25 lives have been lost (19 members of Special Forces of the AFP and 6 MILF fighters).  It is not known what the MILF intends to do with its own commanders in the field. But certainly the mode of dying in such a battle is a classic example of how tactics in the hands of military commanders could undermine the value of strategic discourse.  One could ask the political aim behind the sending of Special Forces troops, who were on training for scuba diving, to a deadly mission in Al Barka. Similarly, one could ask why the MILF warriors decided to inflict a brutal response despite their knowledge that their leaders were negotiating for peace.

There is even a bigger question for any observer of the peace talks. Are the GPH and MILF panels actually talking to their own followers when they negotiate with each other? Are strategic aims shaped by a winner-take-all framework and attitude?

The Indonesian government and the GAM carried the same strategic aims in three decades of war. Yet two failed attempts at a negotiated settlement in 2000 and 2002 compelled them to go back to talking rather than fighting. This commitment led to the Helsinki MOU in August 2005. One conclusion stood out at the end – peaceful negotiations are difficult but their outcomes do deliver mutually beneficial solutions.  People often think it was the tsunami that did it. Tsunami or not, conflict actors made the final determination that it makes better sense to negotiate rather than wage an endless war. At the end Gen. Bambang abandoned his “birds’ nest” discourse and found himself sitting in the negotiating panel of the Indonesian government.

Honoring the Dead in Basilan

Coming home for the weekend, I open my Facebook account, and got a message from Pancho Lara, a good friend and an activist scholar whose doctoral studies is on Muslim Mindanao: “Will you post my latest piece in your blog?”

Of course. I always appreciate Pancho’s perspective on war and peace, governance and development. In the midst of of understandable grief and outrage, his voice is a thoughtful and strategic contribution to our pubic conversation on war and peace in Mindanao.

Honor the Dead with a Lasting Peace

Francisco Lara Jr.

The incendiary and discriminatory language and the drumbeat to arms that often accompanies violent flashpoints across the world have been reignited by the recent ambush-slaying of army special forces in the island of Basilan in the southern Philippines.

As in other civil wars, the battle on the ground is accompanied by a similar battle to communicate each side’s version of events. In this case the peace skeptics seem to be winning the battle. Several politicians and media commentators have taken turns blasting the ongoing peace process between Moro rebels and the State, none worse than a local radio station’s airing of Kenny Roger’s “Coward of the County” to frame President Aquino’s resolve to end the conflict and sow doubt on the government’s attempts to forge a political settlement.

Amidst the cries and recrimination few have taken stock of what the war in Mindanao actually means for the soldiers themselves. It is often said that soldiers go into battle with the safety and welfare of their comrade-in-arms foremost in their minds. Few are inspired to march to a possible death by lofty aims of freedom, democracy, or state building. They disdain violence as much as their enemies who serve in the front line and as deeply as any family or community that has lived in the midst of armed conflict.

If there is a lesson to be learned from this sad episode it is that peace is the same prize that every soldier covets. It is difficult to imagine that the final thought that crossed the minds of the dying soldiers was revenge. We only repudiate their ultimate sacrifice when we turn our backs on the search for a lasting peace. In turn, we honor the memory of those who gave up their lives on both sides of this enduring conflict by continuing the peace process.

It is easy to ignore the price paid by those directly victimized by conflict when one lives hundreds of kilometers away in the safe confines of the metropolis. Most Filipinos see Mindanao as an island that will never see peace and development, populated by the ‘ruthless other’ who is culturally violent and cannot be trusted. They dismiss the conflict and “mindless” acts of war as the consequence of an embedded culture of violence. As in other conflicts in Southeast Asia, the Middle East, or in Europe, they begin to take stock only when the bombs start exploding in their malls, their schools, or in their places of worship.

Yet tens of thousands have died and half a million people have been permanently displaced by the conflict in Mindanao. Previous administrations who waxed triumphant over their attempts to secure territories and camps from the clutches of the MILF failed to realize the physical, emotional, and economic costs that accompanied these empty victories – a fact underscored by the glaring truth that despite their huge costs these offensives failed to secure a lasting peace.

So who are the brave and real ‘strongmen’ in the midst of violent conflict? Those who spread the language of hate and violence, or those who carry the burden of negotiating an agreement in the face of innumerable odds and the constant demonizing that they and their counterparts across the table endure? Others would find only delusion in this process. Yet if we stood back to briefly consider what has been achieved thus far we discover that a general ceasefire continues to endure, both panels are inching towards an agreement, and the ‘honest brokers’ that accompany the process are inspired like no other period in the past. Indeed, ranged against the recent suspension of negotiations between the GPH and the NDFP, the GPH-MILF peace process is the “low hanging fruit” in the quest for peace.

Several surveys and the political mapping of local constituencies have demonstrated the legitimacy of government’s efforts to broker a lasting political settlement in Mindanao. Yet the manner in which this violent event is played out in the public arena only promises more distrust and bloodletting than the event itself. The disruption in the peace process that may result from this violent act serves no larger purpose than to harden ethnic cleavages and strengthen the position of extremists from both camps who desire to scuttle the negotiations and exhaust their energies by killing each other. They will, in the end, become the real beneficiaries of the protracted conflict if the reigning discourse of violence remains unchecked.

Another fearful outcome from the violence will be the eruption of demands that will make it more difficult for the negotiating panels to move towards a durable political settlement. Beware those who demand tougher standards that can trigger disunity and defections from both camps. They offer the best guarantee that new splinters will emerge from among the insurgents, and provoke disaffection within the ranks of the military that can perpetually harm any peace outcome.

The best response would be to undertake an investigation of the incident principally aimed at preventing a repeat in the future, rather than as a gauge to determine whether the peace process is worth continuing. A strategic move that can emerge from this incident is to add teeth to the role of the joint committee on the cessation of hostilities and the international contact group in conducting an impartial and transparent investigation of the Basilan incident. Beyond this action there are sufficient rules and safeguards within the ongoing peace talks that already enables unhampered communication and cooperation between both parties, including the presence of impartial and honest brokers from the international community that can lean on both sides to plod on, against all odds, to deliver a durable peace.

Finally, like other conflicts in the world, an effective peace process requires what the eminent peace scholar Ed Garcia calls a “marathon mentality”. Patience and perseverance are infinitely less costly than pride and prejudice.

Too Many Meetings?

It’s Sunday evening, and I check my schedules for the coming weeks.

There’s a lot of scheduled meetings.

When my daughter Ayen was in Grade One, her teacher asked her: “What does your father do?”

She didn’t really know how to answer, but she eventually blurted: “My father cannot live without meetings!” When I tell this to other activist-parents, they laugh and tell their children’s version of the same story.

We did have lots of meetings as activists. We still do. But in the few months I have been helping out at the Department of Agriculture, I think that there are even more meetings in government.

Are all those meetings really necessary, or productive?

Al Pittampalli emphatically says “No” in his book Read This Before Our Next Meeting. He complains:”We have too many meetings. We have too many bad meetings.”

He is not really against meetings, only against what he calls “traditional” meetings. In their place, he advocates what he calls “modern” meetings. I don’t have a copy of his book, but found his summary of what modern meetings should be in his website.

The Modern Meeting Standard

The traditional meeting has held us hostage for too long. It’s wasted our time, energy, and drained from us the aliveness that makes work exciting and fulfilling. And for our organizations, the traditional meeting gets in the way of important decisions that need to be made for forward momentum. It forces our organization to walk, when we all have the burning desire to run.

Long live the modern meeting:

1. The Modern Meeting supports a decision that has already been made.

If a decision maker needs advisement pre-decision, he should get it from others via one-on-one conversations. Only after a preliminary decision is made can a meeting be convened. A meeting might be necessary for either of two reasons:

Conflict: The relevant stakeholders can debate the decision, propose alternatives, suggest modifications, or have concerns addressed.  The decision is ultimately resolved.

Coordination: If a decision demands complex collaboration from different people, teams or departments, stakeholders can convene to coordinate an action plan.

2. The Modern Meeting starts on time, moves fast, and ends on schedule.

The Modern Meeting enforces firm meeting end times to ensure that the resolution and implementation of decisions aren’t delayed needlessly. The meeting ends, a decision is resolved and participants get back to work. If you are late, we will start without you. And we won’t invite you next time.

3. The Modern Meeting limits the number of attendees.

Only people who are critical to the outcome are invited to a Modern Meeting. Small numbers allow decisions to be resolved quickly and plans to be coordinated smoothly. If invited attendees recognize that they don’t need to be there, it’s their obligation to decline.

4. The Modern Meeting rejects the unprepared.

An agenda is distributed well in advance of a Modern Meeting, and it establishes the decision being debated or the action being coordinated. The Modern Meeting demands you think carefully through all the different scenarios presented by the decision and come up with thoughtful responses. We will call on you. If you are not prepared, do not attend.

5. The Modern Meeting produces committed action plans.

What actions are we committing to? Who is responsible for each action? When will those actions be completed? The Modern Meeting ensures that these questions are answered, and distributes the resulting action plan soon after the meeting ends. It’s the meeting leader’s responsibility to follow up and hold participants accountable for their commitments.If no action plan is necessary, neither is a meeting.

6. The Modern Meeting refuses to be informational. Reading memos is mandatory.

In order to keep modern meetings strictly in support of decisions, informational meetings are cancelled. For this to be possible, managers will write memos instead, but everyone must commit to reading them. In a culture of reading, informational meetings are no longer necessary.

7. The Modern Meeting works only alongside a culture of brainstorming.

The Modern Meeting is about decision, the narrowing of options. Brainstorming is the necessary complement, as it results in the mass generation of options. Brainstorming has to be done correctly, though. It’s an anti-meeting, so the regular rules of the Modern Meeting don’t apply.

 

Love, Death, and Steve Jobs

Farewell, Steve Jobs. Thank you.

My first computer was a Mac, a gift from my sister Irene in 1986. It was so user friendly  and “intuitive” that a six-year old nephew played with it while I was busy doing something else, and managed to operate it without any instructions.

Mac and its mouse “spoiled” me. I never learned how to use keyboard commands (I still don’t), and I could use PCs only after Windows adopted the icons and other features of the Mac.

My wife Girlie uses an iPhone, a gift from Fr. Paking Silva when I was working with him on rural electrification. Our daughter Ayen uses an iPad, a gift from Sec. Procy Alcala whom I am assisting in the Department of Agriculture.

Our family loves Apple products, but that is not the main reason I appreciate Steve Jobs.

I thank him mainly for his thoughts about life, love and death.

Reflecting on his death at the end of the day, I re-read favorite excerpts from his commencement speech:

On connecting the dots. “…you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”

On love and loss. ”Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.”

On death. “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

“No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.”

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Inspiring. Challenging. Maraming salamat.

Remembering Ondoy

The rains have stopped and it is quiet outside our place in Teachers Village.

Two years ago, around this time, the flood waters that seeped into our sala initially reached our ankles. But we had managed to transfer all the boxes on our floor to the top of the tables. That was not the first time we had to do that, since our street floods from time to time. But the water usually remains only ankle deep.

This time, however, the flood waters continued to rise, reaching our knees, and rising steadily. We scrambled to transfer what we could from the tables, up the stairs, to the upper floor. But the rising of the water outpaced us.

We lost most of our paper files, and our desktop computers, to Ondoy’s waters.

Thankfully, we saved most of our collection of books, since they were the first we carried upstairs. Still, the dominant feeling I had the next few days was a sense of loss. Of course we consoled ourselves that everyone in our household was safe. We realized how little was our loss compared to the communities that were in the direct path of the floods.

All that seems so long ago.

Weeks and months after Ondoy, there was a flurry of discussions and activities. Whenever there was stronger than usual rain, there was a palpable nervousness in Metro Manila.

But the first anniversary passed without any major incident, and Metro Manila settled back into complacency. Were it not for today’s storm signal no.2, the second anniversary of Ondoy would probably evoke little more than ritual remembrance.

There is a lot we must remember about Ondoy and its aftermath.

I think that the best remembrance is represented by the various responses that continue even two years after. Many of them are under an umbrella appropriately called the Marikina Watershed Initiative.

There are a variety of participants and programs under the Marikina Watershed Initiative. But tonight I want to remember with appreciation the community leaders in Calawis, San Joseph, Kaysakat and Sapinit. They have led their fellow residents in setting up Punlaang Bayan, nurseries of indigenous species of trees, for the “rainforestation” of the watershed. They dig the holes in the planting areas and join the volunteers in planting the seedlings.

I also remember and thank the kaagapay, community leaders who serve as community educators, forming community learning groups, and facilitating their search for alternative, more sustainable livelihoods. Their work reminds me of Will Cather’s aphorism: “ There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.”

Don’t Forget to Remember Not to Forget

On September 21, 1972, I told my Thursday class in Assumption College that I had to leave as soon as class ended. They asked why, and I said I was to speak at a protest rally in Plaza Miranda. I half-hoped that some would volunteer to go with me, but no luck.

Anyway, I arrived at the Welcome Rotunda just before the march started down Espana Avenue. My memory is somewhat blurred: Was there a line of riot police that tried to stop us at the UST? But I remember that we did make it to Plaza Miranda, and managed to hold our rally without being forcibly dispersed.

Among progressive activist circles, there was a lot of talk about a possible declaration of martial law. The logical response was to build a broader alliance for civi liberties. We marched under the banner of “Christians for Civil Liberties.” Our choice of name was inspired by Pepe Diokno’s MCCCL – Movement of Concerned Citizens for Civil Liberties.

We didn’t know then that in fact, President Marcos had already signed the declaration of martial law on September 21, though it was promulgated only two days later, on Saturday September 23.

Friday night, I remember riding with Julius Fortuna of the Movement for a Democratic Philippines. His car suddenly stopped. We got out to push it, but couldn’t make it start. We laughed nervously. I don’t know who we managed, but I brought him to the relative safety of my aunts’ house in Paranaque.

Early Saturday morning, my companions woke me up and whispered: “There’s no radio. No TV. Must be martial law.”

I decided to go to Christ the King Seminary. When I entered the gate, the seminarians who were on the grounds and waved me off frantically: ‘The soldiers came early morning and knocked on your door!”

I thought of Julius Fortuna and rushed to Paranaque to pick him up. Fortunately, the Assumption nuns agreed to offer us temporary sanctuary. That was where we watched Marcos’s brief announcement, with Kit Tatad reading the longer documents.

No celphones then for text messages or internet for e-mail and Facebook. We were not sure if phones were tapped. it was hard to sort rumors from news.

To help us pass the anxious hours, the nuns gave us reading materials. They found some volumes of the Selected Works of Mao Zedong and gave them to Julius. For me, they offered a hefty edition of the Jerusalem Bible. The guest room we shared had a bath tub. Julius eagerly tried it. After turning on the tap, he asked, half-jokingly: “Where are the bubbles?”

When political communication lines were restored, one of the first messages we got was from Pepe Diokno in prison. He worried that young activists may be agitated to launch urban uprisings and asked us to do what we can to hold them back.

After a couple of months, most activists were able to regroup to build the backbone of an urban underground resistance. Over the next years, an increasing number pursued the path of armed struggle and established guerrilla zones nationwide.

Thinking of those days in 1972, two aphorisms come to mind. The first is from Kierkegaard: “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.”

The second is from Gabriel Garcia Marquez, with a slight change: “What matters is not only what happened, but what we remember, and how we remember.” I would add, “and with whom we remember.”

 

Edinburgh and ALE Revisited

Girlie and I have been invited by the Scotland Learning Partnership to speak at a conference on adult learning and education. It’s our second time to visit Edinburgh.

While preparing for my talk on the conference theme – The Wider Benefits of Adult Learning, I also revisit the first conference on popular education I helped convene in 1986. It was then that we conceptualized the C-C-M framework for popular education: Context, Content, Method.

Most people associate popular education first with methods – participatory, creative, even fun. But we argued that for popular education to be effective and sustainable, we must first look into its context : Within what program and organization context are popular education activities being done?  And while popular education does emphasize appropriate (relevant and participatory) methods, it must also address the content, both those generated from the context and from those generated by the learners.

In the run up to CONFINTEA VI in Belem, Adult Learning and Education (ALE) became the preferred term.

During my first visit to Edinburgh, also sponsored by Scotland Learning Partnership (which used to call itself Scotland Adult Learning Partnership), we pursued the focus on “learning” to its logical next step, which is to make sure that “learners’ voices” would be heard at Belem. We also took the first steps to set up a Global Learners Network.

In this year’s Edinburgh conference, Girlie and I are team-anchoring a workshop on Alternative Learning Systems in the Philippines. We asked ourselves what we could contribute to help advance the discourse on ALE. We agreed that one lesson we can share from our experience is how to develop learners from grassroots communities to become themselves educators and learning facilitators. In our Filipino language, kaagapay.

We chose two contexts for our presentation: 1) the context of sustainable development of the Aetas’ ancestral domain in Botolan Zambales, and 2) the context of protection and “rainforestation” of the Marikina Watershed in Antipolo.

In both cases, we have partnered with local organizations, and developed selected community leaders and learners to become kaagapays.

To give our workshop participants a visual sense of the two contexts, we prepared 3 posters for each context. They will serve as “codes,” in Paolo Freire’s term, for our dialogical decoding of what ALE is and can be, not just in the Philippines but in Edinburgh.