Thanks for small blessings. I have a few minutes at the KLM lounge in Schipol, and surprise, surprise, there is free internet for 30 minute sessions. Checked my e-mail and here is a short blog.

During our board meeting of the Global Campaign on Education (GCE), one item was the theme for the 2009 Global Action Week. We decided in the World Assembly in Brazil that it should be about Youth and Adult Literacy, partly because it is one of the most neglected goals of EFA 2015, and partly because 2009 is when CONFINTEA, the international conference on adult education will be held in Belem, Brazil.

We brainstormed about the main message, not necessarily the final tag line. David Archer came up with the most welcome suggestion - Open Books, Open Doors. The message lends itself to visible symbolic actions that the GAW seeks to do. School doors can be open to out of school youth and adults who are either illiterate or neo-literates. Various buildings - public and private can also open their doors, which can allude to literacy (basic and functional) as ways to lifelong learning.

During the stimulating exchange, I thought Paolo Freire would be smiling at us, since he had a slogan along the same spirit - Read the Word, Read the World.

Toward the end, someone posed a thoughtful question and challenge; I think it was Kailash, GCE president: We have been increasing our mobilization during GAW, reaching probably 7.5 million in 2008 once the validation of data is done. But part of the numbers is because school children can be mobilized; they are organized in institutions, and teachers can lead them in activities. “But adult illiterates and learners are not organized, so with out of school youth,” he observed. “Now that they are the focus of mobilization, how do we involve the school children to get the same numbers and more?”

That led me to respond that we can and should mobilize the school children, not just to welcome the out of school youth and adults into their classrooms for some joint activities e.g. reading and writing. More important is to deliver the message that the main means for promoting literacy, among youth and adults is for them to finish basic education. That is the finding of the FLEMMS survey in the Philippines. But of course, there should be other programs for reaching learners out of school.

Unfortunately, formal basic education and literacy programs for out of school youth and adults are not usually seen as “two legs walking toward EFA.” Those in the formal system care little for out of school youth and adults. Those in out of school literacy programs, or alternative learning systems, do not seek synergy with the schools.

It is time for them, and us, to see each other as complementary approaches, toward EFA 2015 and beyond EFA, to lifelong learning. That should be a topic when we meet with Synergeia about the EQuaLLS program in Muslim Mindanao.

Time to go. Time to board.

Saturday and Sunday, I have been cooped up in the Hotel Barbican for marathon meetings of the board of the GCE - Global Campaign on Education. It’s our first face to face meeting since we got elected last January in Brazil, and our next will be January 2009 in Bangladesh, so we have a full agenda, with more than 30 items and papers to discuss.

After our last session, we hied off to an Italian resto. On the way back to the Barbican Hotel, I spotted this internet place. As soon as we got off at the hotel, I walked back so I can post a short blog before I fly back home tomorrow.

The hotel’s internet access was down the past two days, and I couldn’t check my e-mails or post a blog. But for the next 15 minutes (the place closes at 11 pm), here are some quick snapshots.

At breakfast last Saturday, the hotel had free copies of TIME magazine for early risers, and I took my breakfast while reading the piece on Nelson Mandela’s “Secrets of Leadership.” It’s an inspiring and instructive breakfast read. I agree with the writer that he is as close as we have for a contemporary “secular saint” especially with his beatific smile. I smiled at his self-description as a “trouble maker” whose time in prison tempered to maturity. I think back to my own time in prison teaching me “patient impatience.”

Our board meeting had its routinary moments, but also some good debates, with just enough emotions and heat to give it spice and keep me awake despite jet lag. Later, I told Kailash, GCE president, that some of the debates reminded me of Mao Zedong’s quip, “Without contradiction, there is no life.” By that standard, our board meeting is alive. But the contradictions are non-antagonistic, since they are disagreements on how best to achieve shared goals and visions.

For a number of years, the GCE has been most visible during the April Global Action Week. Why April? Because it was in April 2000 that the renewed commitment to Education for All by 2015 was adopted in Dakar, Senegal. I had a good conversation this morning at breakfast with Gorgiu who comes from Dakar, and I hope he can come sometime to the Philippines to tell us about his work in Senegal and across Africa, as coordinator of ANCEFA.

But part of the growth and evolution of GCE is its more nuanced focusing of its campaign. The general awareness-raising through globally coordinated and highly visible activities will continue, and we hope that the 7.5 million mobilized this year will reach 10 million in 2010. But these are not just geared to support the advocacy to make G-7 countries give their needed share to fill the financing gap in the South. The first goal of the GCE has been defined as focusing on governments in the South to commit the resources needed to achieve EFA. The benchmark figures are 6% of GNP and 20% of the national budget.

In the early years, EFA tended to be understood mainly as universal primary education. In Brazil, the GCE emphasized that all the 6 EFA goals should be addressed, espcailly the most neglected goals of cutting adult illiteracy in half and providing youth and adults appropriate learning opportunities. This becomes more urgent in the run up to CONFINTEA 6, the international conference on adult education which will be held in Brazil in May 2009.

Also, beyond simple access and completion, the GCE wants to give emphasis on quality of education and learning outcomes, and reaching the unreached.

There are many stories to tell and conversations to narrate in some future blogs. But for tonight, let me sign off and catch a bit more sleep before waking up early for the trip to Heathrow 4. I guess I will be back in the Philippines before my body adjusts to the jet lag, so I don’t need to re-adjust and can face the work I had to leave behind for this quick trip to London. I arrive Tuesday morning, and in the afternoon, I will be at the La Mesa Eco Park to discuss the idea of making it an Eco Academy. The next day, we meet with Synergeia on its work in Muslim Mindanao to provide relevant and enhanced learning for out of school youth. And there are the last few paintings I have to finish for my solo exhibit that opens on August 1.

It just occured to me that I am also celebrating the anniversary of my blogging. One year ago, on July 12, I posted my first blog. Checking the number of postings, I average one every other day. I hope that the momentum continues. Thank you to those who tell me they read me regularly. I encourage you to also post your thoughts and join the conversation in cyberspace.

Good night.

Just before flying from Manila, I had 30 minutes of free internet service at the lounge, but the text somehow got lost when I posted it.

Am now in transit at the Schipol Airport in Amsterdam, and I have another 30 minutes of internet access, though not free; it’s 6 euros. But I thought I should repeat the text before I arrive in London and drop off immediately to sleep.

Thinking back to my childhood, my earliest memory was of taking my first steps, tentative and wobbly. Someone was holding me from behind (was it my mother?) and she let go of me. I walked half falling forward a short distance to another woman whose arms extended to catch me (was it my mother?). I remember the color of the cement floor, a red-brown binaldosa, shiny from the floor wax.

That is the only memory I can retrieve from my earliest years. It was in the sala of our house, near the public school. Our house is not there anymore.

The next memory is still from that house, but probably three or four years later. One of my mother’s two brothers, Kuya Villing, was shaking the nipa walls of the sala in grief. My father had just died. it was just after sunset. Then another snapshot - people were passing me over from one side of his coffin to the other at the cemetery. It’s supposed to be a custom, but the precise meaning eludes me.

There is an even earlier story about me, from the time I was in my mother’s womb, told by the other brother of my mother, Kuya Delfin. The school near our house was used by the Japanese occupation forces as their garrison. My father’s eldest brother, Tiyo Omes was the guerilla leader, in touch with the Allied Intelligence Bureau. My father was part of the secret support network.

One of the Japanese officers (I don’t know his name) showed some kindness to my mother and other members of the household, partly because they knew how to sew, and would repair the uniforms of the Japanese soldiers. When my mother was pregnant with me, she got quite sick. The Japanese officer gave her the medicine that helped her recover.

When some Japanese solidarity activists visited me in prison, I told them about this and reflected on the contradiction between feeling grateful for personal assistance by a Japanese officer to my mother and me, and resenting and resisting the Japanese occupation. They expressed their regrets and remorse, but I wasn’t really expecting that. I just wanted to tell the story.

Another story comes from my mother, about the Americans coming into our town. “I cooked fried chicken because they wanted that. In exchange, they gave dried apples and other rations which I fed you,” she said.

Japanese medicine and American dried apples. Could be a metaphor for our early encounters with the world outside the Philippines.

it’s still July 11 here in Europe, though its early July 12 in the Philippines. Technically, my 65th birthday is longer than the usual 24 hours.

My 30 minutes are up. Will walk to Gate D 14 for my flight to London Heathrow. At least this time I won’t have problems choosing what occupation to claim at immigration - educator.

It is the first hour of July 11, and I am officially 65 years old. I really don’t know at what hour of July 11 I was born in 1943.

This is a very short blog.

In a few hours I will fly by KLM to London via Amsterdam. The board of the Global Campaign for Education (GCE) is having a face to face meeting July 12 and 13, and to arrive on time for it, I need to travel on my birthday. It’s a strange prospect - celebrating my 65th birthday up in the skies. I hope that is not a sign that I will soon leave my earthly existence.

During the long flight, I should have time to reflect on my life (birthdays are occasions for looking back and spending time to think). I hope to post a longer birthday blog from London.

This weekend, Girlie, Ayen, and I are in Lucena City for a gathering of the Villariba clan. We are celebrating the 60th wedding anniversary of Cesar Viilariba and Flotilda Collantes - Tatay Iba and Nanay Nene.

The 60 years of loving partnership has produced 13 children (Girlie is the second child, the first girl), and as of today, 44 grandchildren (including two partners) and 5 great-grandchildren.

As our contribution to the anniversary celebration, Girlie and I co-edited a book of Tatay’s essays on education and historical vignettes, with some contributions from the Villariba children and their partners: Girlie and Ceres (the doctor of the family) wrote about Nanay Flotie. Mina, our newest PhD, wrote on caring for the earth in crisis. Sonny, the eldest, wrote a piece on the future of the coconut. Girlie and I compiled some of our blogs under the theme of “Lucena as a Learning City” and on “Learning into the 21st Century.”

After a series of brainstorms, the book title we decided on is Life and Love in a Learning City: The Villariba Clan of Lucena.

The title bears the influence of Stephen Covey’s statement that all human beings want to achieve four things: To Live. To Love. To Learn. To Leave a Legacy.

The other influence is the idea of a “Learning City” which I brought home from a conference on lifelong learning in Korea, and which Girlie and I have been advocating to the educational institutions and the city government of Lucena. We hope that one of the Villariba legacies is for Lucena to declare itself a learning city and develop the corresponding programs for it.

One of the ideas Girlie is exploring for Lucena as a learning city is “glocalization.” How do we develop the potential combination of Lucena residents with the overseas migrant communities of former Lucena residents? It is not just remittances and investments we should be thinking of, though they are part of this combination. More important are the ideas and skills and other learning resources.

Even among the 13 Villariba children, there is already room for exploration. Melo lives and works in San Francisco USA; he came home with Maebel and their two children Mikey and Kathy to celebrate their own 25th wedding anniversary. Deeda also came home from New Jersey, with Jason and their two children Jillian and Julia. Heidi and Bobby came home after decades of living and working in Arizona, but their two children Olivia and Kathrine are studying in New York. Caloy has worked for a time in the Middle East, and is preparing to return there. One of Liza’s sons, Peter, is working as a male nurse in Scotland.

Come to think of it, even Girlie and I have spent more than four years in Europe, working with Philippine solidarity groups and Pinoy migrant communities.

During the anniversary mass at the Carmelite monastery chapel, Obie’s wife Corcor was constantly in tears. I thought she was just being sentimental, since I also felt a surge of feelings when Iba and Nene slowly walked down the aisle, while the Enverga University choir sang “The Impossible Dream.” But afterwards, she explained that she was thinking of her mother and father who have both passed away, and missing them.

I could relate to that. In the swirl of clan celebrations and the clicks of digital cameras and celfones, my mind would travel from time to time to Naujan, where my mother is bed-ridden with her diabetes and wounded foot. Our nuclear family is so small, just my mother and sister Yen who is there with her now. But she will soon have to leave, back to the work that awaits her in Puerto Rico.

At least my mother has eight brothers and sisters, and two of them, Bel and Foy, both unmarried, give time to be with her. A brother, Delfin, also stays in Naujan half of the year, when he is not with his children in the USA; he drops by regularly. Two sisters, Dely and Remy are now visiting from Canada and the USA.

Between thoughts of Naujan and Lucena, I could appreciate the sermon of Bishop Marquez who begged off from a mass scheduled in Manila to preside over the anniversary mass. I thanked him afterwards. He graciously replied, “This is a rare event.”

He dwelt at length on how having many children are a blessing. For those who chose to have only one or a few children, he cited a quote from a parent (though in another context): “Babawi na lang kami sa aming anak.”

Parts of his sermon got me thinking about population policy and the church’s official position. But I brushed away my reactions and instead thought of my eldest son Yeyi, who lives and works in Singapore. Her loving wife Minette is into the seventh month of carrying twin sons in her womb. I wonder how many more children they will plan to have.

At the lunch program which we co-emceed, Girlie asked me to reprise an idea we explored some years back for our good friends Cha and Chuchi. They were activists who didn’t want a civil or church ceremony, despite their devout parents’ pleas. Finally, they arrived a compromise, as a first step. (Years later, they eventually agreed to a formal wedding).

We asked ourselves then “What are wedding ceremonies for?” The loving, courting, and intimacy are mainly private, best done and appreciated by the partners involved. What do governments and churches have to do with this?

The idea we worked on is this: Before there were governments and churches, there were communities, even wider than family and clan. It is to these communities that partners present themselves, to seek acceptance and support for their love and commitment. Later, at formal weddings, it is these communities that governments and churches are supposed to represent.

Today was not just a clan celebration. It was a celebration of a community, of friends and colleagues in what we hope will be our shared dream of a learning city.

It’s past midnight. Girlie and I have just walked back to our place from the Claret chapel where we attended the wake of Lota Encio.

Tonight was the first time I knew that her baptismal name is Lota. I have known her only as “Elma” of Sarilaya, an organization of grassroots and activist women.

There were other things I got to know about Elma only tonight. When we arrived at the wake, Cora, one of Lota’s classmates from high school, was sharing stories about her as friend and campus leader, which other classmates affirmed with their own remembrances.

Lota had a disability, a curvature of the spine which made her look like a small child even as an adult. Her younger sister Myrna said that their mother enrolled them together so she could look out for Lota and protect her against harassment. But Lota proved to be made of strong stuff, and there were no sob stories about her school years. She excelled academically and exercised leadership, wrote for the campus paper, directed plays, organized events.

She comforted and defended friends during times of trouble, but had her mischievous side too - playing matchmaker and finding pleasure when her pairings worked out. The only recurring complaint, expressed with affection, was that she wouldn’t allow any classmate to copy her exam answers.

Her classmates’ portrait showed another side of Lota’s person that those of us in activist circles didn’t know. But it was the same essential Lota that came across in their retelling - intense energy, fiercely loyal friendship, always looking out for others. Her activist involvement only brought another set of “others” to her expanded circle of concern and commitment.

A former comrade of Elma came all the way from Nueva Ecija to tell a pithy but meaningful narrative about their work in the movement. I could only marvel at the territory she covered, from Aurora province, to Rizal, to Central Luzon up to Pangasinan.

Susan, who took care of her during her last months was an living testimony of grassroots women whom Elma helped awaken about their rights and potentials. Her detailed telling of Elmas last days was moving in its simplicity. Up to the end Elma was thinking of others rather than her own plight. Her last uttered prayers were for the women whom we worked with, and for people with disabilities.

When I got the text messages about her death, one of Joey Ayala’s song came to mind, the one about how we measure the value and meaning of a life.

Lota touched a lot of lives through her friendship and activism. But integral to the best years of her life was her involvement in the revolutionary movement. The grand goals of the movement have not been achieved and it has fissured into conflicting tendencies. What does this mean for her now that she is dead at 52, and for those of us who live and have served as she did?

Shall we comfort ourselves with the words of the character played by Clint Eastwood in The Bridges of Madison Country? “We had dreams. They didn’t work out. But it was good to have them.”

Quire unexpectedly I was asked to speak a few words. All I could say was what Girlie and I were whispering to each other as we recalled our all too few encounters with Elma. She was present at many learning conferences of ELF. When we told her about the learning portfolios we were developing for grassroots leaders and educators, she wanted to make her own life portfolio. We had a long discussion about developing a grassroots leadership program for women, based on the experiences of ELF.

She was not only hungry and thirsty for justice. She was equally insatiable about learning. Not merely for self-development, but so that she could serve the grassroots women more effectively.

I thought of what Charles Handy, the management guru, wrote about the funeral of his father. He thought that his father’s choice to be a pastor was too modest and lacked ambition. Compared to his father, he thought he had more income and fame, especially through his books and lectures. But when his father died he was astounded at the number of people who came to the wake and the funeral, each one with a story of personal appreciation of his father.

He wondered, with his books and his career, if there would be half that many people who would go to his funeral because they were personally touched in one way or another by his work.

On our way out, Girlie asked another activist if Elma had ever been arrested by the military and detained as a political prisoner. As far as she knows, Elma evaded arrest despite her continuous revolutionary involvement. Ironically she was arrested and detained by the movement she served with dedication and commitment. She was a victim of suspicion and suffered even torture, until they acknowledged their mistake and released her.

Did she ever forgive them? Most probably, though it would not have come easily. Did she regret her revolutionary involvement? Most probably not. Almost without pause, she picked herself up and went back to organizing women through Sarilaya. Although she started with urban poor women, she eventually went back to her first love - the rural communities.

Walking back home, we silently felt the sense of loss, but also the warmth from hearing stories of Elma’s life. We shared the thanks expressed by those who spoke at the wake, for the blessing of having known Elma and what she stood for.

Tonight, Galing Pook executive director Dok Eddie Dorotan invited Gerry Bulatao and myself to a great dinner treat. I was slightly late, and apologized to our three dinner guests - Mayor Jessie Robredo of Naga City, Governor Grace Padaca of Isabela, and Governor Among Ed Panlilio of Pampanga.

The food was excellent; the company and conversation were even more.

We met at a restaurant near ABS-CBN, since the three were guesting at Tina Monzon-Palma’s Talkback at 8 pm.

Last week, the three met for the first time at Club Filipino, and the news about their meeting created some buzz. Although they would be the first to say that there are many other excellent local government officials, the trio are probably the most well known and inspirational local executives. For many social activists and reform-minded Filipinos, they represent a trinity of hope.

The metaphor of the trinity was triggered by Jessie’s observation that they are a 1-2-3 combination: Among Ed is a first term governor. Grace Padaca is serving her second term as a re-elected governor. Jessie Robredo is on his third and last term as city mayor.

That makes Jessie the “Father” since he is the veteran; in fact this is his second three consecutive terms as mayor. Among Ed is the “Son” as the youngest of the three, the hoped-for savior of Pampanga politics. Does this make Grace the “Holy Spirit”? Maybe we should just follow the interpretation of the Banahaw devotees. They believe that it is more logical to have a “Mother.” For his part Senator Salonga baptized her “Amazing Grace.”

I teased Jessie that friends in embassy circles say his name is being mentioned for the presidential elections in 2010. Jessie waved that away with a smile. But Among Ed pursued the topic, asking him if he would consider. Although he is a Ramon Magsaysay awardee, Jessie had a modest self-assessment: “I am not that well known nationally.”

He added a seasoned politician’s calculation: With less than two years before the May 2010 elections, it is too late to make a run for national office, if we follow conventional wisdom. But last week, one of The Daily Inquirer’s editor predicted that conventional politics may not be enough for 2010: “Most voters will be young. People want something better than the usual.”

Before I could bring that up, Dok Eddie pulled the conversation back to the question about their meeting: “Why did you meet? What do you intend to do together?”

I expected them to repeat what was reported in the news - to exchange experiences, and to help one another govern well. I was surprised at their answer: “For our own survival.”

That was really news to me. But Grace mentioned that cases have been field against her with the Ombudsman. “Don’t worry,” Gerry answered. “The Ombudsman has no credibility.” But she replied that her opponents can use the news about the charges, even if they are groundless, to besmirch her.

Among Ed is also facing charges, in addition to the threat of a recall initiated by his defeated opponent. The charges filed against Jessie are TNTC - too numerous to count.

That is an angle that I didn’t fully appreciate till tonight. I told Eddie that Galing Pook should also look into the need to defend good local officials from harassment, legal or otherwise. While our main focus is on giving recognition to good governance and encouraging its replication, we cannot overlook the need to defend it.

“Good” in good governance should not just mean being ethical and transparent, participatory and accountable. It should also mean being politically astute, able to outwit one’s political opponents. If leaders who are identified with good governance lose through legal manuevers, technicalities, and other political machinations, cynicism about politics will worsen.

The biblical injunction comes to mind: Be simple as doves, but prudent like serpents.

Am in Davao for a workshop with PMTs - Project Management Teams - convened by Synergeia from 11 LGUs in the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao.

Synergeia is one of three implementing organizations of EQuaLLS 2, a USAid funded program on basic education in ARMM. I knew about its earlier participation in EQuaLLS 1, but was not involved in any way since the focus then was limited to improving formal basic education.

For EQuaLLS 2, however, its program includes offering alternative learning system to out of school children and youth. Nene Guevarra has asked me to help design ALS for the 11 places assigned to it. “This is your chance to test your ideas on ALS on a larger scale,” she told me.

The 11 sites are Patikul, Siasi and Jolo in Sulu province; Ganassi and Kapatagan in Lanao del Sur, plus Marawi City; Upi, Barira, and Buldon in the new province of Sharif Kabungsuan; and Paglat and Datu Paglas in Maguindanao province. Because of the latest kidnapping incident, which a participant describes as “fundraising,” there was some teasing about not having ransom money for me in case I get kidnapped when I visit Sulu. Nene was quite relieved to hear about Ces Drilon’s release. She told us that Ces Drilon has been reporting on Synergeia’s work and is keenly interested in it.

When we flew in late last night, I noticed that there were more than the usual number of Mindanao and Manila politicians at the Apo View Hotel. Even Bayani Fernando and Ignacio Bunye were there, so was Bong Revilla. I greeted some MNLF leaders whom I knew from TESDA days.

When Synergeia scheduled the workshop, we didn’t know that there was going to be a big political gathering here in Davao, with GMA expected to fly in. The signs on the hotel schedule board said that LAKAS and KAMPI were meeting jointly. It figures. The ARMM elections are just some weeks away.

I teased Nene Guevarra that LAKAS and KAMPI have to do a Synergeia - synergize their respective and often warring forces. She, in turn, teased the mayors from Paglat, Datu Paglas, and Upi about leaving the workshop for a few hours “to meet your president.” She is an advocate of transparency, and it extends to her own ill-disguised feelings about GMA.

It is not just ALS that the PMTs will be discussing. The previous focus on improving formal basic education continues, and there is also a program to improve the teachers’ competencies to teach English and Math.

ALS itself is not really new in ARMM, or in EQuaLLS 1, but it has been implemented by contracted NGOs and universities who did it without involving the LGUs.

In contrast, Synergeia’s approach to education reform has been to help the LGUs assume the responsibility to take the lead, in cooperation with the DepED and other stakeholders, especially the Parent Teachers and Community Associations or PTCA. In EQuaLLS 2, this approach is being applied also to ALS.

After dinner tonight, I talked for a while with Mario, a member of the Upi PMT. He runs the community radio and is the president of the PTCA. “When Synergeia started its work in Upi three years ago,” he said, “only 2 of every 10 school children could read. Now 8 out of 10 can read.”

Now they and all the PMTs have to look into another set of numbers: How many out of school children and youth are there? An initial community rapid appraisal has yielded a baseline figure. How many of these OSCY want to avail of ALS, and what kind of ALS? Almost all are interested, with some wanting to take all four ALS courses - on basic literacy, PEPT, skills training for livelihood, and high school equivalency.

They spent the whole afternoon working on how they would launch the first ALS programs - choosing and training IMs or Instructional Managers, reproducing modules I will be adapting from the DepED modules, organizing the learning groups, getting the support of parents and barangay officials, identifying community learning centers, mobilizing local resource persons etc.

The plenary discussions on their reports lasted past dinner time.

When the three mayors rejoined the workshop, Nene teased them again, “Did GMA give you any money?” One of them smiled and shook his head. The other said that a palace aide told him it will be distributed later.

Two years ago, I served as one of the judges in Panibagong Paraan, the World Bank-sponsored “market” for development innovations. Browsing through the hand outs, I was intrigued by the tag line of the World Bank’s CAS - country assistance strategy - for the Philippines: Supporting Islands of Good Governance.

That could very well be a slogan of social activists who are into PLG, participatory local governance, and who do not see comparable prospects at the national level in the immediate future.

But then I teased a Filipino World Bank staff about a contradiction between their tag line and their practice: “If you aim to support islands of good governance, and I presume that’s LGUs, why does the World Bank give its money mainly to national/central government?”

His repartee was quick and clever: “By islands, we do not mean just local governments. Remember our country is called the Philippine Islands.”

More seriously, the World Bank’s documents explain that the “islands of good governance” that it supports are not just LGUs, but also selected national government agencies, and even some private sector institutions.

The logic of the strategy seems to be that the way to change the whole country is through some parts, concentrating on those who are willing and able. The rest of the body politic will change through influence and emulation. After all, as Pepe Diokno used to say about Filipinos during martial law: “If fear is contagious, courage can also be contagious.”

Against this logic is the saying that one rotten apple (or mango) spoils the rest in the same basket of fruits. Can good apples or mangoes make the bad apples and mangos in the same basket become good?

Or should the good ones shield themselves against the rest?

This was challenged by former General Jose Almonte in his talk to “local government achievers” convened by Nene Guevarra of Synergeia. I was invited but managed to catch only the last part of the discussion.

JoeAl is reputed to have been a key strategist of the Ramos administration. I thought he had an appropriate riposte to the World Bank tag line - Toward an Archipelago of Good Government.

His opening statement is worth quoting in full:

The provinces, cities, and municipalities you represent are apparently bright spots amid the political darkness that engulfs our country. Nene Guevara calls them “islands of good governance.”

This is an appropriate metaphor for our national situation. Your territories may indeed be isles of bliss. But, by definition, island also means isolation: Island also means limits—and we don’t want good government to stop at the water’s edge.

We Filipinos have been so starved of good government that our appetite for it has become unlimited. What we hunger for is a whole archipelago of good government. We want the blessings of good government for all our 7,100 islands—including even those that are submerged at high tide!

And that’s why we’re gathered here—to consider strategies for converging our islands of good government into an archipelagic whole. We don’t’ want you to content yourselves with cultivating your own gardens. We want you to think on how to spread your individual—and collective—models of development throughout our nation.

His challenge was picked up by Eddie Dorotan of Galing Pook Foundation, who invited JoeAl to address the general membership meeting last June 7. JoeAl’s proposition was that we need a new “people power” initiative for the 2010 national elections, similar to the people power movement that brought Among Ed Panlilio to the governorship of Pampanga.

That’s easier said than done, but it reflects the sentiments of many Filipinos here and abroad. In fact, when I am asked if I will campaign for any of the would-be presidential candidates for 2010, my two-step response is 1) I haven’t decided on any candidate yet, and 2) I would still prefer an electoral “revolution” along the lines of the Pampanga campaign, except I don’t know how it can be done for the presidency.

Last night, I was part of a small “civil society” group invited to a dinner-discussion with a visiting World Bank official; he is in charge of their “community-driven development” programs. The conversations focused on how we look at the KALAHI project in the Philippines, and what should be changed if there is a KALAHI part 2, as requested by the government.

But just before we wound up, he posed a question related to our hopes for good governance at the national level. His premise is that a strong middle class is a key moving force for reforms, and he asked us, “Where is the Philippine middle class?’

Mike Luz, former DepEd undersecretary and now president of IIRR, had a quick reply: “Many have migrated to other countries.” I said I agreed with him.

But pushed further, I cited Benedict Anderson’s long essay on the Philippines after EDSA 1986. He wrote that the middle class reform constituency in the Philippines is limited because a significant part of it has gone abroad. I would add that even if they have not migrated physically, they have migrated in their imagination. (Anderson coined the happy phrase “imagined communities” to describe national communities.}

But he added an important observation, that another part of the middle class has been radicalized. And many interpret their radicalism in opposition to that part of the middle class that has opted for reform, rather than entering into a coalition with it. In some extreme cases, those who have adopted a radical position would rather align with the conservatives against reformers, since they equate all reform with reformism.

Of course to complete the picture, we should add that a fourth part of the middle class, by choice or circumstance, have resigned themselves to being the “servant class” of the ruling class and system.

I expressed my hope that reform-minded overseas Filipinos could combine with reformers who stay in the Philippines to bring about changes, first in local governments, but ultimately in national government. Some of the other World Bank staff present were not so hopeful.

My other hope is for an alliance of radicals and reformers. But that will need much re-thinking and re-imagining on both sides, and a commitment to engage in serious conversations toward convergence and coalition.

Such a needed conversation between radicals and reformers is not only between two different groups or individuals. Equally important is the conversation between radicalism and reform within one and the same person, like myself.