Harry Roque, Imee Marcos, and Philip Salvador were among the front acts before his arrival. They did not sing but they had the same message: Mahal na mahal kayo ni Tatay Digong.

As if the reminder was necessary.

Of the 2,500 in attendance, a big proportion were domestic workers. This was to be expected. Majority of Filipinos in Hong Kong, after all, are in household service. And everyone knew that to get out of work on a Thursday was not an easy feat. But they did.

All for tatay.

As if it was also necessary, OFWs were reminded that they were modern-day heroes. Labor Secretary Bello asked if they knew why they were heroes. With much enthusiasm, he claimed that “if it were not for OFWs, the Philippine economy would have collapsed long ago.” The country is thus thankful for all their sacrifices.

All this was music to Filipino ears. 

Barangay fiesta

But it was not just one political speech after another.

The audience was treated too to a series of special numbers – a showcase of the best of Filipino talent in Hong Kong. The repertoire was all too familiar: Delilah, New York, and, of course, My Way.

At one point Imee Marcos, Harry Roque, and Mon Tulfo even got carried away to dance with the crowd.

Nothing was surprising. It was your typical barangay fiesta – loud and fun. Only that all these took place in Kai Tak, a terminal for cruise ships.

With effortless creativity on the part of Filipinos, the waiting hall became a fiesta hall. Think of barangay gymnasiums converted for a similar purpose.

And the people were fired up in time for his arrival.

It was the perfect atmosphere to welcome not just a rockstar. Tatay Digong is your loving father who will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

He deserved nothing less.

His speech

Tatay Digong did not fail them.

As expected someone sang You Raise Me Up. But it was Ikaw that caught his attention. As if on cue, Duterte readily took the microphone to sing along. By the time the song ended, the large screens were filled with the faces of teary-eyed Filipinos in the audience.

The emotional atmosphere was perfect for Tatay Digong to begin his speech. He was ready for it.

Immediately he talked about his negotiations with Kuwait. He divulged that soon he would sign an agreement with its government to make sure that OFWs there would receive a day off every week and retain their passports.

The crowd cheered. OFWs in Hong Kong know the importance of these basic, hard-earned privileges.

Duterte also reminded the audience that his presidency was all about eradicating corruption. "If you go home now, wala nang magbukas ng bag sa airport. Wala na ring tanim-bala." (Gone are the days of opening bags in the airport and of planting bullets in your luggage.)

The crowd cheered again.

These accomplishments might seem trivial to outsiders. But to OFWs these were necessary for their safety and security. To them the airport for a long time had been mired not just with inefficiency but corruption that took advantage of their vulnerabilities.

Finally, Duterte brought up his crusade against illegal drugs. He repeated his well-rehearsed lines: "Do not destroy my country. Do not destroy our young people. I will kill you."

Make no mistake about it. That was not revolting for the audience.

On my way out I spoke with Yollie, a domestic helper from Sta Cruz, Manila. She was very pleased to report that her neighborhood is now a safe place. "Okay lang ang mga napapatay, drug addict naman sila eh." (The deaths are okay, they're addicts anyway.)

Yollie smiled a lot, you'd would think she is the nicest aunt ever.

Returning the favor  

Filipinos in the audience knew how to return the favor. 

When one domestic helper received a stern message from her employer to go home immediately, she insisted she would stay. She then told me she was willing to pick a fight if need be.

A gentleman behind me wondered out loud if some Filipino reporters were present. (Yes, he singled out Rappler.) In the same breath he said he was prepared to hit them with his water bottle. The lady next to him assured him that there were far more people in the audience ready to defend the president. 

This is Barangay Hong Kong. 

For its people Duterte’s charm and his promises are one and the same. It pays to be reminded that he got 65% of voters here. To them he is what the Philippines needs to keep it strong and safe from its enemies. To them he is a great president and a dependable tatay. 

Disagree if you will, but know that they will fight for him.

Because fighting for him is fighting for their future. – Rappler.com

Jayeel Cornelio is a sociologist at the Divinity School of Chung Chi College, The Chinese University of Hong Kong. Follow him on Twitter @jayeel_cornelio.

They say if we don't forgive, the weight of the transgression stays with us. What does that mean exactly? Because sometimes we say things that sound good and make us feel good, that make us think we are wise, but really they are nothing but hollow words, sometimes intended to deflect from the unpalatable truth. Some people say that when we forgive, we will feel the weight lifted. They say we’ll feel light, as if forgiveness is a cheap drug that makes us high, that immobilizes us and allows us to rest, so that we are free from the trauma inflicted upon us.

I don't, for a moment, believe it.

I think it is a Hallmark card slogan, put together by a team of underpaid wanna-be serious writers who are doing the job to tide them over until the next big real writing project. I think it is uttered by people, often men, who have not felt sexually violated, who have probably whistled at a woman walking alone in the street, boldly and with impunity caressed a female underling's arm or thigh, or suggested repercussions for unrequited, unwanted attention.

Should there be room for forgiveness for the kinds of transgressions that damage the spirit, destroy the innocence of child, and forever take away her agency? Even the religious say, "An eye for an eye." Perhaps what it really means is: An I for an I. And I will not forgive you. At least not today. Not because my mother has died and her body has been committed to ash. I will not do it because your sick brother, my mother's half-brother, son of the woman who brought my mother's family so much pain and abuse, asks for it for you. Even if you yourself ask for it, I will not forgive you. Not even on your death bed.

I do not think my forgiving you will make me whole again. I have lived with my broken self all my life, at first believing it was my fault for staying silent, for pretending it didn't happen, locking it deep inside where the child still resides, angry and distrustful; for thinking back then that it was enough to shut my eyes closed and brace my tiny rebelling body, fold it unto itself and make it hard like a rock, clench every muscle, every sinew, and resist your probing hands with sheer will.

Indeed, I will not do it even if my mother rises from the dead and orders me to forgive you. Or if her siblings threaten to disown me the way my mother was disowned by her uncles when she went to her father's funeral, big with child and with no husband by her side.

Forgiving you will not make me feel lighter or wiser. It will not help me move on; in fact, I have moved on carrying your transgression like a tumor in my body. The weight no longer bothers me. In truth, it is not forgiveness that made it light or benign. It is how I have spread it by sharing it. Thinner and lighter it got until it was no longer malignant. Let me add, too, that in the process of unburdening, I've received and helped other survivors carry their burden. I carry mine and the weight of others' trauma like a badge of honor.

To be honest, if called upon the stand as a witness to your molestation, I can no longer recall the exact times, the exact details, and I would probably lose the case, further traumatized by the unreliable justice system. Institutions are often cold and dehumanizing places. It makes me think of the nights and days spent at the hospital by the side of my mother, intubated against her will, fed and drugged according to protocols and notes of doctors who came and went but never for more than a few minutes. They are like the lawyers and judges who probe and question the victim without much regard for their comfort.

It would not be enough that I remember refusing to leave my mother's side every time there was a house party, out of fear of waking up in the middle of the night to your clammy hands touching me in all my innocent parts. I would likely be asked, "How old were you then?" "Which bedroom was it?"

True, I can no longer dig from the recesses of memory the exact details of your transgression. "Was there ever penetration?" "Did he make you do things against your will?"

But what I do not remember, and perhaps by choice, my body refuses to forget. The way it tenses up and recoils, and at times is unable to discern intent in someone's touch. The way it has taken a long long time to shake off guilt and shame in pleasurable moments.

My only regret is that I did not have the courage to confront you and to make sure that you do not inflict pain and damage upon another child.

How ironic that in English, your name means little angel. But then again it makes sense that you could deceive everyone with your angelic countenance that made girls swoon and your brothers believe you were blameless. It makes me wonder if you yourself were molested, although that doesn't necessarily excuse you or your actions.

And to many people who still think that forgiveness is the only way I can move on and retrieve the part of myself that my molester took from me, I say be quiet and listen. Because sometimes when someone tells you a story of childhood trauma, there is really nothing else you are expected to do but to listen and to bear witness.

This letter has been written in lieu of forgiveness. It has lightened my load.

Your estranged niece,

Mel Manay*

– Rappler.com

* Editor's Note: The author has used a pseudonym due to the sensitive nature of her story. She says the #MeToo movement has given her the courage to write this piece.

"Federalism is the mighty weapon that will destroy Imperial Manila!"

Ardent advocates of shifting to federalism treat this rallying call as self-evident. It is certainly a catchy soundbite that many Filipinos have taken as gospel truth.

The administration is in the midst of a constitution-writing undertaking that could, if successful, lead to the submission of a draft federal constitution by June, to coincide with President Rodrigo Duterte's State of the Nation address in July. Ostensibly, their federalism proposition's avowed goal is to weaken the central government's overbearing authority over the rest of the country.  

The very text of the 1987 Constitution conveys the dominance of a central government underpinned by an extremely powerful President. Moreover, the Supreme Court has ruled in several cases that the powers of the President are not limited to what are expressly enumerated in Article VII on the Executive Department and in scattered provisions of the Constitution. Nor should the constitutional limitations be treated as a diminution of the general grant of executive authority. 

Therefore, in the Philippine constitutional order, the President himself is the sole wielder of executive power. He appoints for practically all positions in the central bureaucracy, including the armed forces and the police. He has sole control over the entire executive branch, from department secretaries down to the rank-and-file.

Correspondingly, the President has a direct hand in all matters of government – from public housing to agriculture to solid waste management to foreign investment to tax collection to sports to water management to foreign trade and affairs, and so forth. In all these public functions, the President plays a very prominent role. Crucially, control over and dispersal of public funds is also heavily concentrated in his office.

The imperial nature of the Philippine presidency is undeniable. The reach of whoever wields this power extends far and deep as evidenced by how President Duterte addressed the Boracay "cesspool" tragedy.

The degradation and decline of Boracay is not a unique phenomenon. In fact, Baguio is now next in line to meet this fate. Bohol, Cebu, and Palawan are about to proceed along this direction, too. 

Obviously, neither is the degradation and decline unexpected. The lack of consideration for sustainable development has put these natural wonders in imperil from the moment they were opened for tourism. 

Without disregarding the urgency of this problem, it would still be reasonable to expect government to be circumspect and deliberate in its approach. Indeed, some sectors are even prepared to undertake long term solutions instead of the usual stop-gap options.

Nonetheless, the response of President Duterte to such foreseeable disaster was not exactly out of character in regards him and the office. An intrepid Malacañang reporter described the President's decision-making process as "instinctive, abrupt, and with a penchant for the dramatic."

Draconian resolution

We know now that the total shutdown of Boracay was the President's idea and initially did not have unanimous backing from his Cabinet, although this draconian resolution is now fully supported by the entire administration. 

In fact, the Department of the Interior and Local Government, acting as an alter ego of the President, recently released an 8-item list to serve as a precursor to the department's official guideline to govern the total closure order.

However, some items in the list are arguably unconstitutional as they infringe on people's freedoms without due process, particularly items 2, 4, and 8 with regard to freedom of movement, and item 5 relating to press freedom. To wit:

"2. No ID, no entry. Residents/workers/resort owners will be allowed entry into the island subject to the presentation of identification cards specifying a residence in Boracay. All government-issued IDs will be recognized. Non-government IDs are acceptable as long as they are accompanied by a barangay certification of residency.

xxx

4. One condition for entry. No visitors of Boracay residents shall be allowed entry, except under emergency situations, and with the clearance of the security committee composed of DILG representative, police, and local government officials.

5. Journalists need permission to cover. Media will be allowed entry subject to prior approval from the Department of Tourism, with a definite duration and limited movement.

xxx

8. One entry, one exit point. There will only be one transportation point to Boracay Island."

These directives when taken together appears eerily like the old Martial Law counter-insurgency strategy of hamletting. If these prescriptions are retained in the official guidelines without any clear legal justification, it would not be a surprise if affected stakeholders bring the matter to the Supreme Court. 

The rationale for such a highly punitive response is unconvincing, to say the least. But the fact that the decision-making process was highly centralized is another objectionable aspect. Notably, even the stakeholders meeting was held in Manila. 

Obviously, the decision-makers tasked to find a solution to this big problem are central agency bureaucrats, but being a former mayor from Mindanao, it was still disappointing that the President was not particularly more sympathetic to the wishes of the affected local governments. 

Whether the full shutdown of Boracay will be a boon or a bane remains to be seen. But the vital lesson Filipinos must learn from this tragic episode is that the imperial nature of the presidency breeds imperial tendencies. Consequently, the preference of the central government is always the winning option. Leaving the regions to simply adjust accordingly. 

Unfortunately, the omnipresent characteristic of the office also engenders an inherent desire to test the limits of legal and constitutional boundaries. Sometimes this propensity can evolve into a governance mindset of being overly sensitive to criticism and being rancorous to critics. The worst-case scenario sometimes is a government impervious to demands of transparency and accountability from the citizens.   

Given this very important caveat on the perils of our highly centralized government, a query by the sublime constitutionalist, Father Joaquin G. Bernas, SJ, in the 1986 Constitutional Commission is worth noting:

"Should we continue a system where practically all governmental power must come from the central government, from Manila? Must we continue the overdominance of Manila over the rest of the country?" (Record of the Constitutional Commission, Volume 1, June 3, 1986, p25.)

As the constitutional change discourse intensifies, we must not forget that the primary objective is to decentralize governance over the country. The goal is to dismantle Imperial Manila. – Rappler.com

Photo of Boracay by Angie de Silva/Rappler

On Saturday, April 14, the filing of certificates of candidacy (COC) for the May 2018 barangay and Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) elections started.

The last barangay election was held on October 28, 2013. Following the regular 3-year cycle, the next one was supposed to have been held on October 31, 2016. It would have been the first during President Rodrigo Duterte’s term of office. 

However, on October 15, 2016 – or barely 15 days before the scheduled October 31, 2016, elections – Duterte signed Republic Act 10923, postponing the polls to October 23, 2017. Then, on October 5, 2017 – two weeks before the elections, he signed Republic Act 10923, moving for the second time the barangay elections to May 14, 2018. (TIMELINE: Efforts to postpone barangay, SK elections)

As for the SK elections, the last one was held on October 25, 2010. The next one was supposed to have been held on October 28, 2013, but it was postponed by Republic Act 10632 to a date “to be determined by the Comelec between October 28, 2014, and February 23, 2015,” to give Congress time to study and reform the existing SK law.

As no reform law came out of Congress by the deadline set, Republic Act 10656 was passed on March 25, 2015, further postponing the SK elections to “the last Monday of October 2016,”synchronizing it with the barangay elections.

The new and improved version of the SK law, however, did not come until January 15, 2016, with the passage of Republic Act 10742 or the “Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) Reform Act of 2015.” Now synchronized with the barangay Elections, the SK election was also affected by the two barangay election postponements and was ultimately moved to May 14, 2018.

Reforms introduced

While the coming May 14 elections will be conducted pretty much the same as the past as far as the barangays are concerned, it will be the first time for the SK elections to be held under the significant changes introduced by the SK Reform Act.

First, the SK Reform Act introduced an unusual electoral scheme in the country. It has been an electoral tradition in the country that the right to vote comes with the right to run for public office. Under thos SK law, however, while all citizens between 15 to 30 years of age can vote in the youth elections, only those between 18 and 24 years can run for and hold SK positions.

Legislators reasoned that those 15 years of age but under 18 are still minors under the law, and thus ineligible to enter into contracts. Usually, signing of contracts have to be done through the barangay captains – a setup that is claimed to often lead to collusion and corrupt practices. But how about those over 24 but up to 30 years? No explanation has been given, except probably that they are too old to represent the interest of the youth, which leads to the question: why include them in the Katipunan ng Kabataan and make them vote in the first place?

Second, in the SK Reform Act, Congress for the first time has adopted an enabling legislation for the policy of prohibiting political dynasties under the 1987 Constitution. While Article II, Section 26, of the Constitution adopts the state policy of guaranteeing equal access to opportunities for public service and prohibiting political dynasties, the provision is not self-executory; it requires an enabling law for it to take effect.

Seeking to prevent and disrupt political dynasties at the barangay or village level, Section 10 of the SK Reform Act sets as one of the qualifications for an official of the Sangguniang Kabataan that he or she “must not be related within the second civil degree of consanguinity or affinity to any incumbent elected national official or to any incumbent elected regional, provincial, city, municipal, or barangay official, in the locality where he or she seeks to be elected.”

The prohibition bars the relatives of the incumbent of elected national and local officials up to the “second civil degree of consanguinity or affinity” from becoming an official of the Sangguniang Kabataan.

This covers the spouse of the incumbent barangay captain and members of the sangguniang barangay if they are still within the 18-24 age bracket, their “first degree relatives” (like their children), and “second degree relatives” (like their grandchildren or their siblings).

The same rule extends to the relatives by affinity or by marriage of the incumbent. Following and applying the civil service rules on relationships, the husband shares no degree of relationship but treated as one with the wife and vice versa. This prohibition therefore extends to the relatives of the incumbent’s spouse within the second civil degree.

However, it excludes and does not cover “third degree relatives” by consanguinity or affinity of the incumbent or his or her spouse, like their aunt or uncle, or their “fourth degree relatives,” like their cousins.

By putting this qualification, it aims to level the playing field by barring relatives of incumbent officials who directly or indirectly benefits from or can readily take advantage of the barangay’s resources, vehicles and properties, in addition to the influence or goodwill of the incumbent. 

Weak points  

While the law is celebrated as a milestone, being the first and so far the only legislation to contain an anti-political dynasty provision 31 years since the ratification of the Constitution, how does it play out in real life? Is the approach taken by Congress really an effective means of preventing political dynasties among SK officials? 

One of the apparent weak points of the anti-dynasty provision of the SK Reform Act is that the prohibition is contingent with the fact of incumbency or only applies to relatives of elected government officials who are “currently holding office.” When that elected government official resigns, say before filing of the certificate of candidacy, then by all legal intents and purposes, he ceases to be an incumbent and thus takes him out of the coverage of the anti-political dynasty provision. This means that a 3-term barangay captain who is about to “graduate” can conveniently resign a few months before the end of his term so his son or close relative can run for SK chairman.

How I wish our legislators added that clause in Section 43 of the Local Government Code to the effect that voluntary renunciation of the office for any length of time shall not affect the barring effect of the provision. As currently worded in the SK law, however, it appears that this scheme – resigning near the end of one's term – can be done to circumvent the dynasty prohibition. 

To the contrary, it is equally persuasive to argue that what cannot be done directly cannot be done indirectly. Quando aliquid prohibetur ex directo, prohibetur et per obliquum. In other words, when it is a clear case of circumvention, the spirit of the anti-political dynasty provision could be stretched and be made to apply.  

Personally, I learn toward the first interpretation, as I believe that any doubt in the law should be resolved in favor of the fuller and unhindered exercise of the right to vote and run for public office. Ultimately, however, it will be the Comelec which will decide whether to approach this problem liberally or strictly, and overall set the tone of its implementation. 

The requirement of incumbency will also make it possible for a former 3-term barangay captain returning from a one-term break to concurrently run with his children, grandchildren or his relatives as SK officials, he being not an “incumbent.”

Another strange question thrown to me is whether an incumbent barangay captain can make his son run in the neighboring barangay. Strange scenario, but this would also appear to be possible. The law provides that an SK candidate “must not be related to any incumbent elected … barangay official, in the locality where he or she seeks to be elected.”Thus, if Juan is an incumbent barangay captain in Barangay A and his son, Pedro, runs in Barangay B, technically Pedro has no relative who is an incumbent elected barangay official in Barangay B and can seek an SK post.

It is a different scenario, however, in the case of sitting city or municipal mayors and vice mayors, whose children or relatives cannot run in any barangay within the city or municipality where they serve. But the same child can run in other cities or municipalities. The same prohibition applies to the relatives of provincial governors, vice governors, members of the sangguniang panlalawigan cities and municipalities, and the elective regional officials of the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao.

This anti-political dynasty provision also unqualifiedly applies to the relatives within the second degree of all incumbent elected national officials, like the president, vice president, senators, and congressmen, absolutely barring them from running for an SK position in any barangay in the country. This means that the granddaughter of President Duterte, Isabelle Duterte, who recently turned 18 and would have been eligible to run for SK, is barred from running for being a second degree relative of the President. The same prohibition would apply to the eligible daughters of Vice President Leni Robredo. 

Not a ground for disqualification 

The public, however, must understand that despite the prohibition, Comelec cannot police and check every candidate who files a certificate of candidacy for an SK position. Not only because of the sheer number of it, but Comelec does not have motu propio powers to deny giving due course to or cancel a certificate of candidacy of those candidates violating the anti-dynasty provision under the SK Reform Act. A proper petition needs to be filed to trigger an inquiry. 

Lawyers must also be reminded that this anti-political dynasty provision is, technically speaking, a matter of a qualification – a negative qualification to be exact – and not a ground for disqualification. One of the first things I have learned in practicing election law is that the absence of qualification is not tantamount to or equivalent to a disqualification.

A petition for disqualification is limited to the grounds listed in sections 12 and 68 of the Omnibus Election Code and Section 40 of the Local Government Code. In other words, these two are different in terms of form, required content, and effects, and thus, must not be confused with each other. Breach of this anti-dynasty provision may rather be pursued either before elections through a petition to deny due course under Section 78 of the Omnibus Election Code on the ground of material misrepresentation, or after election through a petition for quo warranto. 

In the end, while we can all agree that the law as crafted is not perfect and has exploitable loopholes, we have to understand that having it in the first place, even in its diluted form, is already next to miraculous. At this point, we can only hope that these “baby steps” would become strides toward giving full effect to that anti-political dynasty provision in the Constitution which the whole country has been hoping for the longest time. – Rappler.com 

Emil Marañon III is an election lawyer who served as chief of staff of former Comelec Chairman Sixto Brillantes Jr. He graduated from the SOAS, University of London, where he studied Human Rights, Conflict and Justice as a Chevening scholar.  

When asked what these two presidents – Rudy Duterte and Don Trump – have in common, pundits and political scientists immediately say that it is their populist streak. After all, both supposedly won by tapping on an intense wave of anti-elitism among their constituents and by grandstanding as the voice of the people at a time when they were increasingly marginalized and silenced.

All this is, of course, a lie. It is now common knowledge that Trump and Duterte benefited from the talent of the propaganda machine Cambridge Analytica, and that their bountiful campaign chests did not come out of the tingi-tingi (piecemeal) donations of the poor but from the bank accounts (legal and hidden) of the American and Filipino rich.

Their first policies as presidents also show how minimal their concerns for the poor are: Trump removed environmental regulations, ended American participation in the global economy and thus risk a spark in the unemployment rates, and drastically cut the budget of social services departments. Duterte borrowed and killed, and he has Trump showering him with kudos. 

In short, the idea of the populism argument as the tie that binds Donny and Digong does not hold water. 

How about their rascally dispositions? Are they not evil twins in that regard? Possible. They do like to trash talk (although Digong is much vulgar) and push the conversations into intolerably vulgar directions. Digong added to the general interests by proclaiming that he liked Trump better than Barack Obama because, “We both like to swear.” 

Alas, this is not unique to Don and Dig. Every American and Filipino president I remember swore like they were chicos de calle. Rolling Stones Magazine’s brief history of presidential profanity shows how “dirty words” were part of White House parlance, expressed with bravado by “Honest Abe” Lincoln, to the Camelot-like JFK, to the seemingly spiritual Obama. Manuel Quezon was known for his Spanish curse; Gloria Arroyo, her puñetas; and Noynoy Aquino’s expletives could supposedly match that of Marcos and Erap. So, like populism, there is nothing new here when looking at the antics of Don and Digong.

Revolting treatment of women 

What they share very closely is their revolting treatment of women. 

To the two D’s, women are sex objects, there to satisfy their libido. Women are the “trophy” wives and mistresses whom they can bandy around to brag that they still have “it.” However, often following this braggadocio is the admission that it is Viagra that enables them to perform – not the romance nor passion, but the blue pill. Recall what Digong admitted to a BBC correspondent: “I was separated from my wife. I'm not impotent. What am I supposed to do? Let this hang forever? When I take Viagra, it stands up." And check also what he told the Inquirer.

When done with these women, they move to others. Trump was notorious for bragging that he could easily call a woman “a pussy” when he “moved on her.” But we know this is not true. He has a hard time jumping from one bed to another because, as Stormy Daniels wonderfully put it, “[The] sex was textbook generic [and] was nothing crazy,” adding, “It was one position. What would you expect someone his age to do?” 

Their followers take pride in these displays of gerontocratic macho bravado, broadcasting what they would do to women. In their troll-threats, they are out to show to their idols that the abuse they can heap on women, especially critics, will be far worse than what their gods would do to the other sex. And they are out to make the two D’s proud of them. 

Their defenders claim that the sexual swagger is just that – empty bluster. In practice, they say, Digong respects women (look at his women’s centers in Davao!) while Trump acknowledges women’s talents (check out the exemplary works of Elaine Chao, Kellyanne Conway, Betsy De Vos, Nikki Haley and, of course, First Daughter Ivanka Trump!). These are patronizing portraits. The Trump women are only holding their posts through the generosity of the men, and women centers were nothing but gildings to strongman rule. 

Take out these embellishments and you are left with these rogues, ready to goafter the woman nearest to them, not caring if these are housekeepers, sex workers, a nurse, or a businesswoman. They regret not having “sampled” missionaries, or call women who refused their advances as liars. 

Afraid of strong women

Sexual reprobates like their women weak and submissive to hide their impending impotence but, more importantly, because they want to conceal what they are terrified of: strong women. They reserve their venom on those women because these women’s ability, intelligence, standing, and grace bring into stark contrast these scalawags’ ignorance, pettiness, narcissism, and their paranoia. 

Hilary Clinton may be arrogant, but there is no question who the better states-person regarding knowledge of American policy and its relations to global politics is. Trump cannot even pronounce the names of the Latvian president, Tanzania, and even Beyoncé!  Stormy Daniels is not just any run-in-the-mill porn star. She is a professional sex worker who knows the value of her expertise and has gotten relatively rich because of it. On 60 Minutes, she exuded street-smart intelligence, poise, and coherence. Put her interview alongside Trump’s back-and-forth with the New York Times, and you know who is much smarter.

Listen to the speeches of Senator Risa Hontiveros and interviews of Agnes Callamard and Maria Lourdes Sereno, and then eavesdrop on Digong’s rambling on sexual politics and rants against drugs, and, hands down, the women win. And women who are reticent about expressing their views show their contempt through their smirks and ho-hums when Duterte bragged about condoms and mistresses.

Even the American women supporters of Trump had become “troubled” by Trump’s out-of-script exaggerations and lies.

Don and Dig always lash out against media (“Fake news!”)  they reserve their bile when women challenge them. The nastier they become, however, the more they are exposed for what they are: emperors with no clothes and flaccid presidential members. – Rappler.com 

Patricio N. Abinales is lunghay Ozamiznon now working abroad.

How little we know of a universe where we spend most of our hours.

That’s the biggest irony in Mark Zuckerberg’s appearance in the US Congress last week, as he apologized for a data breach that took hard-nosed investigation to uncover, talked about a networked platform that few lawmakers could comprehend, and defended a business model that’s at the core of the technology industry but which has largely escaped regulation.

Harvard’s most famous dropout stuck to one message in the face of lawmakers’ grilling: that Facebook should have taken a broader view of what it had engineered. What he did not say is that there have been various instances in the past that would have prompted this “broad” view, if only Facebook was scared enough to listen then. 

In the last couple of years, the tech giant has been exposed and questioned for the following:

• flippant management of its team of human and machine content moderators
  
• insistence that it was a “neutral” platform that could not be accused of manipulating people’s thoughts and choices
  
• refusal to deal with fake news head-on and its delayed response to it
• attack on journalism, especially in countries such as Guatemala, Cambodia, and Slovakia, where Facebook removed news stories from users’ social feeds
• lack of transparency in how it is governing (or misgoverning) the regime that it had created

Pre-Cambridge Analytica, some were already calling for blood, such as the shutdown of Facebook. Pre-Cambridge Analytica, Facebook was already being bombarded with doubts about how it was running its backend. That Zuckerberg is now the subject of nasty memes and being pummeled on the very platform that he built shouldn’t shock the former boy wonder; he had it coming.

But what now?

The problem is for Zuckerberg to solve. He did not only build the company from his dorm room, he controls it to this day. This is not a case of a CEO facing the prospect of getting ousted by his Board; this is the case of a CEO who has both majority shares and the public persona to do anything that can move the company forward.

As one of the leading technology thinkers had written in an opinion piece in the New York Times, Zuckerberg “has the power to shake things up” and “rather than circling the wagons, Facebook can join the cause.”

Yet, the problem is also not just for him to solve.

Policymakers, both in the US and elsewhere, need to have a better understanding of the complex and nuanced landscape that social networks have brought to bear on society and our processes. This way, they avoid crafting policies meant for a traditional, static environment, which our tech-driven world clearly is not. The last thing we need is instant policing online that may be used against citizens later.

Institutional users of Facebook, such as media, research and technology organizations, must also not fence-sit their way through this. 

Even if Facebook hired millions of content moderators, they are no match to the vetting capacity and breadth of its very capable and knowledgeable users, who should now engage Facebook more aggressively and intelligently. (READ: Facebook partners with Rappler, Vera Files for fact-checking program)

If Zuckerberg thinks the solution lies internally, he is wrong. He should in fact seize this opportunity to listen to and mobilize the very people who use the platform – to reform it and stop it from further endangering democracy. 

That is the real meaning of connection, that is the real meaning of what he termed as the “idealism” that made him think of Facebook.

Because a lot is at stake. 

The Philippines, for one, is going to have its mid-term elections next year, an activity that will be supervised by an essentially jurassic elections commission that could not even begin to grapple with how networked data targeting will influence the vote. Add to this the little knowledge that Philippine lawmakers and policymakers have of what’s happening online.

To be sure, there are no hard and easy answers to data privacy and networked cultures, because as you read this, chances are your data is already being peddled universally and your social feed has yet again shown you lies that you liked, simply because they were shared by friends you trusted.

So the challenge to those who govern us is this: for them to know what they do not know and to begin to consider social media platforms as something many citizens could no longer do without.

Therefore, anything indispensable to the public must be obligated to serve it well, and not merely enjoy the cover provided by free markets. – Rappler.com

It has been percolating in the President’s mind since last year, this thing about entering into a joint development deal with China in the West Philippine Sea. Like an itch, it needs to be soothed. And what’s the best way to do this? Simply give in to it. 

The President’s thoughts on how the country should go about satisfying this uneasy  itch have progressed from foggy to slightly clear. On two major occasions, Rodrigo Duterte has declared his great inclinations: during his second State of the Nation Address (SONA) in July 2017, and in a meeting with Chinese Premier Li Keqiang in November of the same year. 

In his rambling SONA, he was vague about details, but said that the issue of the West Philippine Sea had to be tackled “sooner or later.” He gave flesh to this earlier bare-bones statement in a press conference that immediately followed, but was coy about the main personalities involved: “It's going to be just like a joint venture…. There’s a partner already, I just cannot reveal…. Our representatives and their representatives…are talking and they are exploring.”

When Premier Li visited Manila, he and Duterte issued a statement agreeing to “cooperate with each other…in maritime oil and gas exploration and exploitation.” Asked by reporters if this would mean lifting the moratorium on oil and gas exploration in the South China Sea, Duterte said it was a “possibility” but only if it served the “higher interest” of the country.

The “higher interest” of the country, as the President sees it, is for the Philippines to stay in China’s tight embrace because the global power has the wealth to dispense to boost our economy and fund the government’s “build, build, build” program and the rehabilitation of war-torn Marawi. Nothing could be more explicit than these declarations straight from the President’s lips: “I need China more than anybody else at this time of our national life.... I just simply love Xi Jinping…”

‘Co-ownership’

Early this year, the “joint venture” that popped up in his head in 2017 transformed into “co-ownership.” In a speech in February, the President disclosed that China offered joint exploration which is “like co-ownership, it’s like the two of us own that.” It was unclear if he was referring to sovereign rights over the West Philippine Sea or the resources that abound there. Or perhaps both.

Clearly, Duterte has trumped the international tribunal’s decision invalidating China’s 9-dash line claim over most parts of the South China Sea.

Thus, for the first time, Duterte and Chinese President Xi Jinping have given the green light to joint exploration in the South China Sea. This took place in a recent bilateral meeting on the sidelines of the Boao Forum held in Hainan, which Duterte attended.

Brunei and Vietnam

Malacañang’s Harry Roque has pointed to two joint development agreements, commonly referred to as JDAs, as examples: those of Brunei and Vietnam. His point was: what is stopping the Philippines from venturing into this territory when our neighbors are already deep into it?

But these are different and cannot serve as models for the Philippines. In the case of Brunei, a joint venture between the China National Offshore Oil Corporation or CNOOC and the Brunei National Petroleum Company was focused on providing drilling services to oil and gas companies for offshore exploration.

As for the arrangement between China and Vietnam, this concerns mainly the Gulf of Tonkin, also called the Beibu Gulf, an area where both countries had agreed on maritime boundaries and to manage the fishery resources there. But this did not involve disputed features.

To date, none of the ASEAN claimants has an existing JDA with China in areas where there is an overlap of claims.

Boracay-type decision

What then exactly will be the terms of the Philippines-China deal? These remain murky. Secretary Alan Peter Cayetano said that the foreign affairs and the energy departments have yet to come up with a “legal framework.” Whatever these will be, they should be transparent and subjected to public scrutiny.

Moreover, have the DFA and the DOE studied other models that could apply to the Philippines? If so, what are these? Missing is complete staff work. 

Lessons can be learned from the past as well, when the Philippines and China forged the Joint Marine Seismic Undertaking or JMSU that covered the Reed Bank. Vietnam vehemently protested this as it violated an agreement among ASEAN countries to deal with China on South China Sea issues collectively. The JMSU became a tripartite agreement—but a case questioning its constitutionality is still pending in the Supreme Court.

Herein lies the trouble: once the President has set his mind on a course of action, none of his alter egos, none of his advisers, can pose a different option, a contrary view, or a nuanced approach.

This looks like it will be another Boracay-type decision. The decision to shut down the island for 6 months was purely the President’s call. It appears that the men and women in the Cabinet, Duterte’s aides scramble to justify the President’s preference or aim to please him. 

As Cayetano said after the Duterte-Xi agreement: "If our legal minds, the DFA, the Department of Energy, Malacañang, and some of our consultants can come up with a framework tomorrow, I will send that to the Chinese tomorrow. If they can send it back to us the next day, and they say they agree, then we can start drafting the MOU or the agreement, and vetting it for official okay." – Rappler.com 

READ: Part 1: My Thai wife, the Big C, and me

We lived through a number of false dawns, when the latest CT Scan or Pet Scan would show that the cancer indicator had drastically declined, pointing to the possibility that she was in remission. 

It was on occasions like this, when the doctors would tell her she could afford to take a vacation from chemo, that her high school classmates, whom she christened the “Fatboys,” would gather to celebrate at her house with food and drink. Happy reunions like these provided the opportunity for her friends and relatives to embrace me as one of their own, despite my very rudimentary Thai. It was then that an anti-corporation activist like me discovered that Google Translate not only facilitated communication but also created community.

Hopeful CT Scan readings also provided the opportunity for us to travel. With hope returned energy, and we took off for those countries she had longed to visit but somehow had never had the opportunity to do so, like Brazil, the Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, and Italy. 

I applied for fellowships and teaching positions, which enabled us to live for months in New York, Wisconsin, and Japan. Looking back, I think she did not fully trust the cancer readings and wanted to absorb as much of life as possible in case these readings did not, in fact, portend the much-desired remission. These were happy times, when she could spend hours shopping at her favorite US garments store, TJ Maxx, in Madison, Wisconsin, or when we would queue to get into the best tonkatsu hole-in-the-wall near the Kamata subway station in Tokyo. 

She liked to cook, and she would entertain guests in Manila with her home-cooked tom yum kung shrimp soup and tom kha gai chicken dish. She loved the Philippines, and one of her goals was to master Tagalog, though, like me when it came to Thai, she was endlessly frustrated by what she considered the complexity of Tagalog. 

“You have all these crazy conjugations,” she said. “We have only one tense in Thai.” To which I replied, “Yes, but you have this crazy tonal language, where depending on the tone, the word klai could mean 'near' or 'far' or the word suay could mean 'beautiful' or 'ugly’.”

Chemical warfare

But reality would always intrude, rudely. After a few months, the next CT Scan would register a rapid multiplication of cancer cells. The pattern became all too clear: the cancer would retreat before a new chemo formula, bringing down the cancer reading, then they would regroup to find ways to get around the enemy, then having developed immunity to the formula, they would counterattack with a vengeance. 

There was savage chemical warfare taking place in my wife’s body, and it was taking its toll. Yet the illusion persisted, perhaps in me more than her, that we could indefinitely stave off the final assault with more and more potent chemo formulas. Since her passing, I have been haunted by the question whether chemo delayed or accelerated her demise. I doubt if I will ever be able to find the answer.

In any case, the dream that chemo could prolong her life indefinitely was shattered in mid-January of this year, when the cancer began attacking her brain, bringing about so much pain that we had to bring her to the emergency room where they pumped her full of morphine. A 10-day treatment with radiation therapy saw her regain both strength and spirit, so that at the end of it, she had become the lively center of activity at Chulalongkorn University Hospital’s cancer ward. I kidded her that she would probably win if there were an election held for the ward’s “patient representative”.

The Big C’s final offensive

We brought her home in mid-January, only to bring her back less than two weeks later as the cancer resumed its attack on her brain. Again, a brief interlude of relative well-being after radiation therapy followed, after which she underwent another CT Scan. At that point, the doctors gave us the news that the cancer’s offensive had broken through to different parts of her body and they were discontinuing chemo since it was no longer effective in containing the cancer’s spread. 

That was the handwriting on the wall, and she took it bravely. Lying together, she took my hand one evening and told me that despite all her tribulations during the last four-and-a-half years, this had been the happiest period of her life, much more personally fulfilling than when she had been professionally active. 

“Chan raak khun mak mak,” she whispered in Thai. “I love you very much.”  Then she asked, “What’s going to happen to you?  It’s you I’m worried about. I told Jit to promise me that she’ll take care of you,” relating her conversation with her cousin.

On March 22, Ko marked her 55^th birthday with a merit-making ritual officiated by a Buddhist monk, one that, in Buddhist belief, would help release her from the cycle of reincarnation and human suffering. The next day, an ambulance came to fetch her from her house for the last time to bring her to a Catholic-run hospice in downtown Bangkok. Four days later she passed away.

Unsolved puzzles

It was only during the 5-day Buddhist departure ceremonies that I began to truly appreciate my wife’s impact on people. Hundreds of people came upon learning of her passing, paying their respects to a person who had touched their life as a compassionate humanitarian worker, a political activist who sought to bring opposing parties to common ground, a person loyal to colleagues and friends and devoted to relatives.

But before the rituals ended, I wanted to take advantage of the presence of so many of her colleagues and friends to make sure I solved the two mysteries that still remained unanswered – queries that she used to gracefully sidestep with a kiss or a smile.

The first one was why Ko made such a drastic break from Thai public life 5 years earlier. One piece of the puzzle was provided by one of her closest friends who told me that part of her withdrawal was job-related. After 10 years as executive director of the Siam Cement Foundation, the mother company was doing a rotation and assigning her to a new post, and while she understood the rationale for the rotation, she felt that there was still so much more she wanted to do to improve humanitarian services in Thailand as head of the agency, so she resigned.   

Another piece came from another friend, who speculated that the battle between “Yellowshirts” and “Redshirts” that had riven Thai politics during the Thaksin period had thoroughly disillusioned her, especially when her friends found themselves on opposite sides and close friendships were torn apart. 

A third piece of the puzzle came from another confidant, who said that Ko told her that she had done everything else and the only thing remaining that she really wanted to do was to experience married life.  But all this did not add up to explaining her sharp withdrawal to close friends like former Prime Minister Anan, who told me, “I tried to get through to her, but she just seemed to close all doors. I could not understand it at all.”

Perhaps the mystery of my wife’s break with Thai political and civil society will never be completely answered. Nor will the second mystery, which was why she chose me to be a partner in place of much more qualified candidates. But though I still was curious, the answer had become irrelevant. Though I think we started our relationship as good friends who were probably not yet in love with each other, by the time Ko departed, our battle against cancer had made our friendship evolve into deep, true love.   

As he left the cremation rites at which he officiated, Prime Minister Anan, who had served as Ko’s surrogate father, said to me, ”Thanks so much for taking care of her.”  I choked and could hardly utter my response, “I would do it all over again if given the chance.”

No surrender

The day after the cremation, under a soft sunlight in the Gulf of Thailand, I committed the remains of the person who had provided the meaning of my existence over the last 5 years to the sea.

The Big C had won, but having put up a good fight, Ko would have felt no dishonor at the outcome. She had not surrendered. I was reminded of the time 5 years ago, in May 2013, when she and I went out on a boat, probably to the same spot, where we lowered her mother’s remains to the sea.

Did she have any inkling then, I asked myself, that nearly 5 years later, she would be joining her mother in the depths? She could not hold back her tears then, and I could not hold mine back now, as I thanked her for giving me the best years of my life. – Rappler.com

Rappler commentator Walden Bello is the husband of the late Suranuch “Ko” Thongsila.

Whenever she was in extreme pain, she would tell me that if this was going to be her life, then it was not worth living.  But two weeks before she left forever, as her weakened legs made their way down the ramp, her right arm draped around her caregiver’s shoulder, she gave me an imploring look. It said she wanted so much to live. It was then that I first really broke down in the four-and-a-half years that I had nursed her in her long-drawn-out battle with what we had named the “Big C”, perhaps fearing bad luck should we call the Enemy by its name.

A few days later, lying in bed, she asked me if stem cell treatment was still an option. “I know it won’t reverse it, but probably it might delay things,” she said. It took me some time to gather the strength to tell her that our doctor friend had told me that the treatment was only effective in reversing multiple myeloma or leukemia, not colon cancer. 

What I did not tell her was that our friend had also told me that he would look into immunotherapy, another treatment, but one that was still in an experimental stage and needed subjects. I did not want to raise false hopes, especially now that she was in a terminal state, but I desperately wished that she would still qualify for the treatment and that slight possibility buoyed me, almost becoming a reality in my imagination.

Missing sashimi

The day our friend told me about the possibility of immunotherapy, I went around town looking for the best tonkatsu, a Japanese pork dish that she had fallen in love with when we stayed for a month in Tokyo last year. I brought her the best I could find in Bangkok, and when she tasted it that night, she said, “It’s not bad, but can you bring me some sashimi tomorrow night?"

Early next morning, our friend called me and said he was sorry to have disappointing news, but immunotherapy would only be licensed for experimental use in December. I was crestfallen, but I told myself that at least she could still look forward to having sashimi for dinner. But by the time I got to the hospice, I was told she hadn’t woken up and had slipped into a deep coma at dawn.  

No, she won’t regain consciousness, the chief nurse told me, and about 30 hours later, at 4:34 pm, March 27, 2018, my wife, Suranuch “Ko” Thongsila passed away, with me, her relatives, and a few friends looking on numbly as the electrocardiogram flatlined.

The proposal

It was about 5 years ago, sometime in March 2013, while I was about to return to the Philippines from the United States, that I got a message from her that read, if I remember rightly, “My mother is dying. I need you.” It was curious, but it was a message to which the only possible response was, “Yes, I’m coming right away.” 

Ko was a good friend, with whom I had kept in touch over the years, ever since she translated my book A Siamese Tragedy into Thai about 13 years earlier. We sometimes had dinner when I went to Bangkok while I was still on the staff of Focus on the Global South, a research institute I co-founded in 1995, but these were reunions where we caught up with each other’s life, and a romantic love life was the last thing on our minds.

By 2013, Ko had moved into the center of humanitarian activity in Thailand. As the executive director of the Siam Cement Foundation, the corporate responsibility arm of one of Thailand’s biggest corporations, she had played a key role in the rebuilding of Southern Thailand after the devastating tsunami that killed over 5,000 people in 2004 and in the government-civil society effort to stop the massive floods raging towards Bangkok in 2012. 

In the process, she had built up an extensive network of friends and colleagues that included politicians, academics, and civil society activists. She was especially close to former Prime Minister Anan Panyarachun, who had become a father figure to her, and was on familiar terms with people from all parts of Thailand’s political spectrum, like former Prime Ministers Abhisit Vejjajiva and Chuan Leek Pai of the Democrat Party, and Chaturon Chaisang, a parliamentarian who was one of the leading personalities in the “Redshirt” government of Ying Luck Shinawatra.  

Not surprisingly, being a very attractive and still unmarried career woman, she had many prominent males in hot pursuit of her, and over our dinners over the years, she sometimes talked about her liaisons and why she ended up turning down offers of marriage. The reasons were diverse, but the main reason, which she acknowledged in a joking fashion, was that she was a career woman in a hurry, who had no time for marriage.

I felt that the text she sent me in March 2013 was not an ordinary hey-good-friend-come-see-me-message, and true enough, when I got to Bangkok, she told me that her mother had said she would be more at ease departing for the afterlife if she knew somebody would take care of her before she died. 

Though not on easy terms with her mother, Ko took her request seriously, thought it over carefully, and came to the conclusion that the only person she thought would fit the bill as a lifetime partner was me.  This jolted me, but I also knew that saying no to this extraordinary, beautiful woman that I had perhaps subliminally desired over the years was not an option. Still, I was curious why she chose me. 

The one thing I was sure of was that she did not choose me because I was a member of Congress. If political or social prominence was a prime criterion, then there were certainly much more attractive personalities on the Thai social scene that she could have had for the asking.

It was an intriguing puzzle, but playing Sherlock Holmes as to her motives was the last thing on my mind at the time of her mother’s funeral in Bangkok in May 2013, which also served as our formal coming out as a couple. To her close friends, it came as a total surprise. 

“How come we never knew about you and this guy?” they would ask her, to which she would laugh and reply, “But I did not know about it myself.” As for me, I was not exactly comfortable being sized up by some of her male friends, some of whom probably felt a national treasure was being snatched from them by a Filipino who came out of the blue.

Her mother’s funeral also marked another development in Ko’s life, and that was her exit from active participation in Thailand’s social and political life. It was something that I only began to realize over time, but it eventually became a big a puzzle as to why she decided to choose me as her partner.

The good life interrupted

Ko was eager to get on with what she regarded as her new life in the Philippines, and she happily adjusted to the role of being a congressional wife, one that was so different from her role as a decision-maker and activist in Thailand. When with friends, I kidded her that she might eventually regret having a partner 17 years older than her since she would end up taking care of me in my old age, to which she replied that adult diapers had greatly simplified that task. 

We had a lovely 5 months, until she was diagnosed with fourth stage colon cancer during a routine visit to her gynecologist in Bangkok in August 2013.  The first thing she did when she heard this was to sit me down and tell me, “You did not bargain for this. You are under no obligation to remain in this relationship. You are free to leave.” I must have said something like, silly girl, did you think I would be that easy to shake off, and we hunkered down for the battle with the Big C. 

Her first surgery took off a good chunk of her colon and some of her liver. Six cycles of chemotherapy followed, which left her drained of energy and numb in different parts of her body. A second surgery removed more of her liver, leaving her with just about a fourth of it, and this was followed by another debilitating bout with chemo, also 6 cycles long.

Two more surgeries followed, interspersed with chemotherapy and radiation therapy. The surgeries and treatments battered her body, with her complaining that what was causing her pain and discomfort was not the cancer but the different operations and treatments. Our lives begun to be built around early morning visits every two weeks to Chulalongkorn University Hospital for a daylong consultation with different specialists, inpatient and outpatient chemotherapy sessions, and when things really got rough, hospitalization for days or even weeks. 

She did everything, including undergoing alternative therapies like an all-vegetable diet, and she registered great frustration at how Western-trained doctors and alternative therapists would simply dismiss each other’s prescriptions.

“I asked the doctor if I needed to avoid meat or cheese, as the nutritionists recommended, but he said I could eat anything and told me not listen to those people,” she said, shaking her head at the feud between Western-trained cut-and-chemo doctors and the you-are-what-you-eat school of cancer nutritionists.

Gradually, my priorities shifted. These were tumultuous times for me politically, with me resigning from Congress owing to my differences with the policies of then president Benigno Aquino III and being drafted to run for the Senate in 2016. Ko was adamant that her condition must not interfere with my political agenda, and she insisted that I go home to the Philippines to campaign even as she underwent a particularly draining bout with chemotherapy in Bangkok. 

But long before the 2016 campaign, I had already made a choice, and that was to place keeping her alive at the top of my agenda, with politics and writing relegated to a distant second. This meant long absences from Manila to be with her in Bangkok. To be concluded – Rappler.com

Diehard supporters of President Rodrigo Duterte or so-called DDS have raised their concerns about Facebook’s recent initiative to partner with fact-checkers and prohibit fake news (as verified by the fact-checkers) from being posted or shared on its social media platform. Some DDS bloggers and even some members of mainstream media have called the initiative censorship.

But is it really?

Censorship, according to Wikipedia, is the suppression of speech or information. The basis could be many things but usually it is for content that is found objectionable or harmful by the government or the community.

Conceptually, censorship happens when a third party (the government or the community) prevents another (usually the media) from sharing or publishing information. When a person or the media suppress their own speech with no compulsion from a third party, it is called self-regulation (sometimes self-censorship).

With the rise of social media as a platform for individuals to express and share their thoughts or ideas, what do we call it when the social medium (Facebook) itself suppresses information (fake news) posted or shared by its users with no compulsion from the government? Based on our definition and concepts, it would then be both censorship and self-regulation!

So yes, blocking fake news posted or shared by users on Facebook is technically censorship. But it is also self-regulation. Let’s explore the implications.

The negative connotation that is stirred by the word censorship usually comes from the situation when the government prohibits or cracks down on speech. This is because governments may abuse their power on what kind of speech they prohibit – from acceptable censored information such as child pornography to unacceptable censored information such as criticism of government officials.

And so the question we must ask – if the blocking of fake news by Facebook is censorship – is whether or not such censorship is acceptable and prone to abuse.

Fake news are lies and propaganda that manipulate people and prevent them from making informed political decisions. It’s next to impossible for any rational person to support the proliferation of fake news on social media. We all aspire for the truth and we are all benefited if people can agree on the facts and the truth. We don’t need fake news to identify real news.

Facebook banning fake news is just like its existing regulations that prohibit users from posting or sharing hate speech and child pornography – all of them are harmful to people and societies. Studies have shown that lies spread faster than the truth! And fact-checking the lies don’t reach the same amount of people.

And so, Facebook is just self-regulating its own power to help lies or disinformation from harming a lot of people and democracies.

Now, is banning fake news prone to abuse? Hardly. The partner fact-checkers, Rappler and Vera Files, are accredited fact-checkers by an international organization. If they wrongfully fact-check the news or reports, their accreditation will be removed. If they are biased or partisan, individuals and other media outlets will call them out and their credibility will go down before the international organization of fact-checkers.

Facebook is a global player. It has no incentive to side with Rappler or Vera Files if they are not doing their job properly. The DDS have already threatened to leave Facebook for its choice of partner fact-checkers. A company does not want its customers to leave or hold a boycott.

More importantly, Facebook is a private company and not a state or government. It has no incentive to side with either DDS or dilawans or any other simplistic political group label. Unlike governments that engage in censorship, Facebook is not likely to ever crackdown on dissent or criticism in favor of one side in politics. There is no reason why it will ban one side’s fake news while allowing another side’s fake news. Again, its customers or users will not tolerate such bias and they will migrate to another social media platform.

It might be unthinkable to believe Facebook users will ever leave the platform but Friendster and MySpace once looked unbeatable. While Jimmy Bondoc and other DDS bloggers have suggested leaving and migrating to VK or weibo, other popular social media and messenger apps such as Line, WeChat, and WhatsApp are also compelling alternatives.

But by banning fake news, Facebook is betting its users will stay and grow. I’m betting on Facebook’s gamble. – Rappler.com

Jesus Falcis is a radio anchor, a public interest lawyer, and a lecturer of the Department of Political Science of the Far Eastern University (Manila). He teaches law-related subjects and has taught Communication students Media Law and Ethics.

When President Duterte assumed office in 2016, maNy had hoped that he – or at least his Cabinet – would finally get rice policy right.

But it now seems such hopes were largely premature and illusory. In fact, Duterte’s rice policies of late are so bad that stocks of cheap NFA (National Food Authority) rice have been depleted – for the first time in decades – while commercial rice prices have spiked.

In this article we confirm this using data, explore possible reasons why this happened, and propose solutions that could turn around Duterte’s bungled rice policies.

Depleted stocks

Let’s begin with hard data showing the alarming depletion of NFA rice stocks under Duterte’s watch.

Figure 1 shows that, years before Duterte assumed office, the stocks of all types of rice – NFA rice, commercial rice, and household rice – roughly followed the same trends, or at least never strayed too far from one another.

But since Duterte came, NFA rice stocks (denoted by the orange line) have deviated from the rest and plummeted at an alarming rate. By early April 2018, NFA rice has essentially been “wiped out” in warehouses and markets nationwide.

Figure 1.

The LEDAC (Legislative-Executive Development Advisory Committee) requires the NFA to keep at least 15 days' worth of buffer stock at all times.

But now, we’ve run out of subsidized rice – the first time this has happened since NFA’s creation in 1972, or in nearly 50 years.

Granted, there’s still commercial rice to be bought from markets, and 250,000 metric tons are set to replenish NFA supplies as early as May.

NFA stocks are also very tricky to manage: the NFA’s business model of buying high and selling low is inherently unprofitable, and forecasting the right amount of rice to import is fraught with so much uncertainty that it often leads to over- or under-importation.

But the precipitous drop of NFA rice stocks of late is no less shocking because it was needless and totally avoidable.

Where’s the rice?

Where did all the NFA rice go?

For starters, some observed that, last year, the NFA, for some reason, flooded the market with rice during the harvest season and restricted supply during the lean season. This is the exact opposite of how a buffer stock ought to work.

Moreover, a number of dubious transactions suggest gross mismanagement by NFA Administrator Jason Aquino. Most recently, Aquino allegedly diverted 10.4 million kilos of NFA rice from Region VIII and sold them to select rice traders in Bulacan. (READ: NFA’s Aquino diverted E. Visayas rice to Bulacan traders – memo to Duterte)

This much was divulged in a memo by Cabinet Secretary Jun Evasco Jr. who, until recently, headed the interagency NFA Council in charge of overall rice policy.

All the charges against Aquino have been downplayed by the NFA spokesperson. But some strongly believe that the significant transaction authorized by Aquino had a direct hand in the dwindling of NFA rice stocks at least in Eastern Visayas.

How many more dubious deals have the NFA made under the public’s nose and in other parts of the country?

Infighting in the Cabinet

What’s more, despite all the red flags, Duterte seems to be turning a blind eye to Aquino’s gross mismanagement of the NFA.

Instead of punishing Aquino – or at least suspending him – Duterte even recently removed Cabinet Secretary Evasco from the NFA Council and reverted supervision of the NFA to the Department of Agriculture.

This is not the first time Duterte has favored Aquino over Evasco. Last year Duterte fired on live TV one of Evasco’s most trusted assistants, then Palace undersecretary Halmen Valdez, on wrong accusations that she allowed rice imports that will hurt local farmers (the issue is more nuanced than that).

In a recent meeting with rice traders, Duterte even threatened to abolish the NFA Council altogether (even though he cannot do this unilaterally).

Such a move would be pernicious to the country since the NFA Council was established precisely to inoculate subsidized rice from politics and corruption, and reduce the enormous discretion often enjoyed by those who handle it.

Abolishing the NFA Council would only open the floodgates to more shady deals by the NFA, which we now have reason to suspect given Evasco’s damning evidence against Aquino.

In addition, Aquino’s preferred method of rice importation – government-to-government (G2G) – is more prone to corruption and financial strain vis-à-vis government-to-private sector (G2P) importation.

Aside from being exempt from the Procurement Law, every G2G transaction requires the government to take new loans from Landbank. A one-million-ton rice import, for example, would necessitate incurring P24 billion of extra debt from Landbank.

To address the recent depletion of NFA rice, Duterte green-lighted the importation of rice via G2G. But with the oversight function of the NFA Council now gone, who will make sure this and NFA’s future G2G imports will be transparent, corruption-free, and efficient?

In the end, Jason Aquino’s mismanagement of the NFA has transcended mere “whiff or whisper” of corruption, yet Duterte’s hands still seem inextricably tied. Why? One clue may lie in the fact that Aquino enjoys a direct link to Special Assistant to the President Bong Go.

Scarcer, costlier rice

Whether caused by politics, corruption, or plain old incompetence, rice is now scarcer and costlier, thanks to Duterte’s botched rice policies.

Markets are coping, for example, through a flurry of smuggling activities. On April 14, a Mongolian vessel was spotted off Zamboanga Sibugay unloading to two other vessels 7,000 to 8,000 sacks of rice from Viet Nam (the ship carried a total of 27,180 sacks worth P68 million).

Smuggling is often a manifestation of unmet demand. But government, by itself, cannot quickly address rice shortages as long as the NFA has the sole authority to import it.

Economists have long argued that abolishing NFA’s rice importation monopoly – and leaving rice importation to market forces – could minimize the need for (and profitability of) rice smuggling.

Amid the shortage of NFA rice, the poor are also left with no choice but to buy more commercial rice. But thanks to classic supply and demand, this has led to a recent spike of commercial rice prices (Figure 2).

Figure 2.

This, in turn, has contributed to a higher-than-expected inflation rate (that is, a faster rise of prices) in recent months – on top of other factors like higher world oil prices (at a 3-year high), the weaker peso (at an 11-year low), and the inflationary impact of TRAIN.

With the poor devoting as much as two-thirds or three-quarters of their budgets on rice alone, higher inflation’s impact on their incomes becomes even larger.

In view of rice’s singular importance to inflation, some economists have proposed a number of changes in rice policy that could abate inflation’s impact on the poor.

One is to “tarrify” the import quotas of rice – that is, convert the import quotas into their equivalent tariffs. Not only could this reduce the special privileges enjoyed by certain rice traders, but it could also generate revenues that government could earmark for programs directed specifically at poor farmers.

Another is to reduce rice import quotas significantly and allow rice supplies to be determined freely by the market. Here, the NFA wouldn’t lose all reason for its existence; it could still maintain a small buffer stock for emergencies. (READ: Rice in the time of Duterte: Will more imports be good?)

Although some Cabinet members have voiced out these and other sound policy recommendations, lobbying and infighting among Duterte’s minions continue to prevent these proposals from seeing the light of day.

In other words, even while we’re looking for solutions, politics continues to bedevil rice policy. 

Low-hanging fruit

For a nation consuming so much rice, one would think that, by now, our government should be an expert in rice policy.

But decades since the creation of the NFA, rice policy seems as rife with mismanagement and corruption as ever.

This is unfortunate. Many experts agree that rice policy is one of the lowest-hanging fruits of good public policy. Done well, it can swiftly improve the lives of millions of Filipinos, especially the poor.

“Tariffying” rice import quotas or substantially reducing them, for example, could help ensure more and cheaper rice for our people, which we need especially now that inflation has gone through the roof.

But unless the Duterte government sets aside politics, tempers opportunism among its ranks, and gets its act together, plentiful and cheap rice will be as far beyond our grasp as ever. – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD candidate and teaching fellow at the UP School of Economics. His views are independent of the views of his affiliations. Follow JC on Twitter: @jcpunongbayan.

Manuel Mogato is good for any prize at any time. But no prize is more deserved and propitious than the Pulitzer he’s just won for international reporting with two foreign partners at Reuters.

For that, he fought odds not encountered since Ferdinand Marcos's dictatorship (1972-1986). He did it with one hand tied behind his back, since his freedom was under threat, and also did it blindfolded, since the object of his professional quest was kept from him by threat, concealment, and subterfuge.

But, in the draconian regime of Rodrigo Duterte, Mogato has been cast in his moment.

I have known Manny Mogato for more than half his years, all that time as a reporter, a front-line journalist, which he would always be. As editor of 3 newspapers he reported for, before joining Reuters, I observed his quick and determined development into a police and defense specialist, one that very few, if at all, can compare today. It was he, and only he, I deployed to that delicate territory, convinced he was worth more than all the competition put together: he got the fuller story, and he got it more right.

Until our partnership as editor and reporter ended, I had referred to him as "Mogato" – "Send Mogato" – not "Manny," as I call him now that our dealings have become less impersonal, although rarer and more distant. Somehow I thought the name "Mogato" had the phonetic weight that matched his stature in the business – it also happened to match his physical bulk.

I imagine that Reuters' Manila bureau owed him the visit it got from the police, who strained to portray it as casual or routine or, as I actually heard it described, "clarificatory and conciliatory." No police visit is benign, and especially not one paid by Duterte enforcers to a news agency that had been reporting the war on drugs assiduously and in all its brutality.

As the "local guy" –  although most assuredly he was far more qualified than that – Mogato presumably bore much of the burden and risks of the Reuters assignment. But if the Duterte regime thinks he’s a soft target, being precisely "local" – indeed, not a few locals have proved to be such – it is, oh, so mistaken. His Pulitzer is proof.

His winning work has been in fact validated, if grudgingly and self-contradictorily, by Duterte's own obsequious spokesman. "Definitely," said Harry Roque, "I’d have to congratulate Manuel Mogato, but the fact is...the drug war is legitimate; it’s intended to protect the youth from the ill effects of drugs."

"Legitimate" is a word Roque, a lawyer of incredible pretensions, likes to throw around, and, in this particular utterance, a word that resounded with moral bankruptcy: More than 20,000 have been killed in his president's war.

In fact, among the "key accomplishments" in its first year, ending July 2017, the Duterte government lists in the section "Fighting Illegal Drugs" 20,322 kills, which come to 1,700 kills a month, or 56 a day, on the average. These numbers more or less match those the news media themselves have been reporting, and their magnitude alone is reason enough to call into question the legitimacy claimed by Roque.

When cited by the media, those same numbers routinely met with protests of "fake news" from Duterte and his police and troll hordes, who quibbled that fewer than 4,000 deaths were on the government’s hands and the rest on the hands of vigilantes, as if they were acting on the order or incitement or inspiration of someone other than Duterte. In any case, the responsibility has been finally fully acknowledged, set down in official print, though, again, likely a Freudian slip.  

Well, Mogato is the last to be fooled. He knows that, along with his Reuters colleagues, he is a particular target for the particular crime of putting names and faces to some of those numbers and detailing the cold, sick, subhuman instincts with which Duterte's war has been prosecuted. He knows that, under Duterte’s regime, truth seeking and telling are particularly hazardous business.

And that was precisely the context in which he set that cry he raised on winning his Pulitzer, "Tuloy ang laban!"— The fight goes on! – Rappler.com

Tuwing nakakaranas siya ng matinding sakit noon, nasasambit niyang kung ganito ang magiging buhay niya, wala nang saysay pang mabuhay. Ngunit dalawang linggo bago siya tuluyang umalis panghabambuhay, habang naglalakad siya sa ramp, nanghihina ang mga binti, at nakayakap ang kanang kamay sa balikat ng kanyang caregiver, tiningnan niya ako nang may pagsusumamo. Gustung-gusto kong mabuhay, ang sabi ng mga mata niya. Iyon ang unang pagkakataong umiyak ako sa loob ng apat at kalahating taong inalagaan ko siya sa mahabang pakikidigma laban sa Big C. Mas pinili naming tawagin ng ganito ang kanyang kalagayan sa takot na magdala lalo ng masama kapag tinawag naming ito sa totoong pangalan.

Ilang araw pagkatapos ng pangyayaring ito, habang nakaratay siya sa kama, tinanong niya ako kung opsiyon pa rin ang stem cell treatment. “Alam ko, hindi ako tuluyang pagagalingin nito, pero maaaring bigyan pa ako ng panahon,” sabi niya. Hindi agad ako nakasagot. Kinailangan kong mag-ipon ng lakas para sabihin sa kanya na, ayon sa kaibigan naming doktor, epektibo lang ito sa paggamot sa multiple myeloma or leukemia, at hindi sa kanser sa colon.

Ang hindi ko sinabi sa kanya, ayon sa aming kaibigan, titingnan pa niya ang posibilidad ng immunotherapy, isang experimental treatment pa lang at kailangan ng mga subject. Ayokong magkaroon siya ng maling pag-asa lalo na’t nasa estadong terminal siya. Ngunit matindi ko pa ring inasam na sana’y sumailalim siya sa nasabing treatment; nag-angat ng pakiramdam ko ang kaunting posibilidad na ito – naging realidad ito sa aking imahinasyon.

Nami-miss niya ang sashimi

Nang araw na sinabi ng kaibigan namin ang posibilidad ng immunotherapy, naghanap ako ng pinakamasarap na tonkatsu, isang paraan nang pagluluto ng baboy sa Japan na nagustuhan niya nang tumira kami sa Tokyo nang isang buwan noong isang taon. Dinala ko sa kanya ang sa tingin ko ay pinakamasarap na tonkatsu sa Bangkok, at nang matikman niya ito, ang sabi niya, “Hindi na masama ang lasa, pero puwede mo ba akong madalhan ng sashimi bukas ng gabi?”

Umaga kinabukasan, tinawagan ako ng kaibigan namin para ipaalam ang isang nakakapanghinang balita: na sa Disyembre pa magkakaroon ng lisensiya bilang experimental treatment ang immunotherapy. Bumagsak uli ang pag-asa ko, pero sinabi ko sa sarili na dadalhan ko pa rin siya ng sashimi para sa hapunan. Nang makarating ako sa hospice, nalaman ko na simula madaling araw ay comatose na siya. Hindi na siya magigising pa, sabi sa akin ng chief nurse. Makalipas nga ang di kukulangin sa 30 oras, 4:34 pm, Marso 27, 2018, binawian na ng buhay ang aking asawa, si Suranuch “Ko” Thongsila, habang ako at ang kanyang mga kamag-anak, ang ilan sa kaibigan namin ay manhid na nakatitig sa pag-flatline ng electrocardiogram.

Ang proposal

Limang taon na ang nakakalipas, Marso 2013 noon, bago ako umuwi sa Pilipinas mula sa United States, nang makatanggap ako ng mensahe sa kanya. Kung tama ang aking pagkakatanda, ang sabi niya ay: “Malapit nang mamatay ang nanay ko. Kailangan kita.”  Wala akong ibang maaaring sagot kundi, “Pupunta agad ako diyan.”

Isang mabuting kaibigan si Ko. Hindi naputol ang aming komunikasyon sa loob ng 13 taon pagkatapos niyang isalin ang libro kong A Siamese Tragedy sa wikang Thai. May mga pagkakataon na kumakain kami sa labas kapag nasa Bangkok ako noong nasa staff pa ako ng Focus on the Global South, isang research institute na tinulungan kong maitatag noong 1995. Ang mga ganitong reunion ay pagkakataon lang para magkabalitaan sa aming buhay, at ang pagkakaroon ng romantikong relasyon ay malayo sa isip namin.

Noong 2013, nasa larangan na ng gawaing humanitarian sa Thailand si Ko. Bilang executive director ng Siam Cement Foundation, na nakatutok sa corporate responsibility ng isa sa pinakamalaking korporasyon sa Thailand, malaking papel ang ginagampanan ni Ko sa muling pagbangon ng Timog Thailand matapos salantain ng tsunami na pumatay sa may 5,000 katao noong 2004 at sa mga inisyatiba ng gobyerno at civil society para mapigilan ang malawakang pagbaha sa Bangkok noong 2012.

Dahil sa kanyang trabaho, nakalikha siya ng isang malawak na pakikipag-ugnayan sa mga pulitiko, sa mga nasa akademya, at mga aktibista mula sa civil society. Naging malapit siya kay Punong Ministro Anan Panyarachun, na tila naging imahe ng isang ama para sa kanya; naging pamilyar din siya sa mga tao mula sa iba’t ibang bahagi ng pampulitikang spectrum ng Thailand, tulad nina dating Punong Ministro Abhisit Vejjajiva at Chuan Leek Pai ng Democrat Party at Chaturon Chaisang, isang mambabatas na naging lider ng gobyernong “Redshirt” sa pamumuno ni Ying Luck Shinawatra.  

Dahil maganda at nakakabighani, at matagumpay sa kanyang karera, di nakakapagtaka na marami siyang manliligaw. Minsan ay nagkukuwento siya tungkol dito at kung bakit tumatanggi siya sa mga alok na kasal. Iba’t iba ang dahilan niya, ngunit ang pangunahin ay ang kanyang pagiging "career woman." Pabiro niyang sinasabi na siya’y nagmamadaling maging matagumpay sa karera niya kaya’t walang panahon sa pag-aasawa.

Noong natanggap ko ang text message niya, Marso 2013, naramdaman kong hindi karaniwang mensahe iyon para sa isang kaibigan na gusto niyang makita. At totoo nga, nang makarating ako sa Bangkok, sinabi niya ang bilin ng ina na panatag itong pupunta sa kabilang buhay kung alam nitong may mangangalaga kay Ko kapag wala na siya. Kahit hindi naging madali ang relasyon ni Ko sa ina, sineryoso niya at pinag-isipan nang husto ang kahilingan nito. Wala siyang ibang naisip na maaaring makaganap bilang panghabambuhay niyang partner kundi ako.

Nabigla ako, ngunit alam ko rin na hindi ko matatanggihan ang isang extra-ordinaryo at magandang babae  – hindi malayo sa katotohanan kung sasabihin kong marahil ay may natatago ring paghahangad. Interesado akong malaman kung bakit ako ang pinili niya. Natitiyak kong hindi ang pagiging miyembro ko ng Kongreso ang dahilan. Mas maraming kaakit-akit at sikat na personalidad sa pulitika at lipunan ng Thailand na gugustihing maging partner siya.

Isang palaisipan ito sa akin, pero sa lamay ng nanay niya sa Bangkok, Mayo 2013, pinakahuli sa isip kong mag-ala Sherlock Holmes pa. Ito rin ang panahon ng paglantad naming pormal bilang magkarelasyon. “Bakit hindi namin alam ang tungkol sa inyo?” ang naging karaniwang tanong ng malalapit sa kanya. Tawa ang kanyang sagot sa mga ito, sabay sabing, “Hindi ko rin alam eh.” Sa bahagi ko, nakakailang ang pagtrato ng kanyang mga kaibigang lalaki na tila ba iniisip na inagawan sila ng pambansang yaman ng isang Filipinong galing sa kung saan.

Ang pagkamatay ng kanyang ina ang naging simula rin ng pag-alis ni Ko sa panlipunan at pampulitikang buhay sa Thailand. Hindi ko agad ito maiintindihan, at magiging malaking palaisipan din sa akin tulad nang kung bakit pinili niya ako bilang partner.

Pagkaudlot ng masayang buhay

Naging masaya si Ko sa pagsisimula ng bagong buhay sa Pilipinas at madali siyang nakasabay sa papel bilang asawa ng isang kongresista, na malayo sa kanyang papel noon bilang pinuno ng isang malaking organisasyon at bilang aktibista sa Thailand. Kapag kasama ang mga kaibigan namin, madalas ko siyang biruin na maaari niyang pagsisihan ang pagpili sa isang partner na 17 taon ang tanda sa kanya – siya ang magiging taga-alaga ko sa aking pagtanda. Ang sagot naman niya, pinasimple na ng adult diaper ang gawaing ito.

Napakasayang limang buwan noon bago siya na-diagnose na may 4th stage colon cancer sa pagbisita sa kanyang gynecologist sa Bangkok noong Agosto 2013. Ang una niyang ginawa ay kausapin ako at sabihing, “Hindi ito kasama sa ating usapan. Wala kang obligasyong manatili sa relasyon. Malaya kang umalis.” Maaaring ang naisagot ko ay kalokohan iyang sinasabi mo, hindi ako madaling paalisin. At sinimulan namin ang pakikipaglaban sa Big C.

Sa una niyang operasyon, tinanggal ang malaking bahagi ng kanyang colon at atay. Sinundan ito ng anim na cycle ng chemotherapy, na naging dahilan ng panghihina niya at pagmamanhid ng iba’t ibang bahagi ng kanyang katawan. Sa ikalawang operasyon niya, binawasan muli ang kanyang atay, sangkapat na lang nito ang naiwan, na muling sinundan ng anim uling cycle ng chemotherapy, na mas lalong nakapagpahina sa kanya. Magkakaroon pa ng dalawang operasyon at sasalitan ng chemo at radiation therapy. Binugbog ng mga operasyon at chemo at iba pang paggagamot ang kanyang katawan. Umikot ang pang-araw-araw naming buhay sa pagbisita sa umaga tuwing dalawang linggo sa  Chulalongkorn University Hospital. Ginugugol namin ang mga araw sa konsultasyon sa iba’t ibang espesyalista, inpatient at outpatient na chemotherapy, at ang mas malala, may mga panahong maoospital siya ng ilang araw o ilang linggo.

Ginawa niya lahat ng magagawa, kasama na ang pagsailalim sa mga alternatibong therapy, tulad ng diet na binubuo lang ng gulay; nadismaya din siya sa hindi pagkakasundo ng mga doktor na may kanluraning edukasyon at mga alternatibong therapists. “Tinanong ko ang doktor kung dapat ko bang iwasan ang karne o keso tulad nang sabi ng nutritionists, ngunit ang sabi niya huwag akong makinig sa mga taong iyon. Kainin ko raw ang lahat ng gusto kong kainin,” sabi niya minsan habang umiiling ang ulo dahil sa alitan ng doktor at mga nutritionist. Ang preskripsiyon ng doktor ay operasyon at chemo; ang paniniwala naman ng nutritionist ng mga pasyenteng may kanser, you-are-what-you-eat.

Unti-unting naiba ang mga prioridad ko. Mahirap na panahon ito sa akin sa buhay pampulitika ko; katatapos ko lang magbitiw sa Konggreso dahil sa pagkakaiba ng aming pananaw ni Pangulong Aquino sa ilang polisiya, at naghahanda rin akong tumakbo para sa Senado sa 2016 elections. Matigas si Ko sa paniniwalang hindi dapat sumagka sa aking agenda sa politika ang kanyang kalagayan. Ipinilit niya na dapat akong umuwi sa Pilipinas kahit na sumasailalim siya sa chemotherapy sa Bangkok. Ngunit bago pa ang 2016, pinili ko nang maging pangunahing layunin ko ang ipaglaban ang kanyang buhay. Kaya’t mas naging madalas pa rin ako sa Bangkok kaysa sa Maynila. 

Basahin ang ikalawang bahagi: Katapusan: Ang maybahay kong Thai, ang Big C, at ako

Basahin ang bersiyon sa Ingles: Part 1: My Thai wife, the Big C, and me

– Rappler.com 

Ang Rappler commentator na si Walden Bello ay asawa ng namayapang Suranuch “Ko” Thongsila.

Business groups are now in full force defending the status quo by opposing the workers’' demand to reinstate direct hiring as the principal norm of employment in the country.

The ECOP, PCCI, PMAP, foreign chambers of commerce, and the DTI have now become riding-in-tandems raring to shoot down the momentum of the anti-endo (end-of-contract) campaign being waged by labor.

Business groups, in tandem with DTI, collectively argue that ending ‘endo’ will scare off investors. Our collective response to their deceptive argument: Only bad investors are scared of a regular workforce. Luring investors to invest because they can avail of contractual workers with no security of tenure, low wages, and benefits is a policy of profit first before anything else. Labor groups will never submit to this kind of blackmail.

Investments come and go not because of rigid employment regulations as labor cost is but a small fraction of the over-all costs in producing goods and services. Studies show that rather, investments come where there is economic and political stability in any country.

Evidently, the DTI and employers group’s' bottom line in rejecting the labor-drafted EO is the preservation of their unlimited exercise of prerogative, never mind if workers have their own fundamental freedoms to enjoy like the rights to security of tenure, collectively bargain, and to have a fair share in the product of their labor. (READ: Why contractualization is bad for everyone, not just for workers)

What they wanted to protect were not only their own businesses but also their favored middlemen in manning agencies and labor cooperatives. Herein lies the main contradiction –– either direct hiring or hiring through a middleman. The former is a bilateral form of employment, the latter is trilateral. Resolving this structural injustice is what workers had been fighting for in the last two decades. 

Immoral trade

As a recognized and legitimized exercise of business prerogative during the last two or 3 decades, contractualization has effectively undermined workers’' rights to security of tenure, freedom of association, to bargain collectively with their employer to improve their working conditions, and to raise their standards of living.

This is because as a system, it allowed the capitalists and their favored ‘middlemen’ to conduct the most immoral of all trades in modern times – labor contracting. (READ: Why contractualization should stop)

Contractualization can therefore be considered as modern slavery, with employers and their middlemen facilitating the modern trade of labor power analogous to ancient forms of slavery. Today’'s middlemen – represented by manpower agencies, service providers, and labor cooperatives – profit from trading workers to client employers, typically for a commission or agency fee. This is true in the sense that a middleman’s only business is to make profit from another’s labor.

Data from the DOLE in August 2016 show that there are more than 400,000 workers dispatched by more or less 5,000 registered labor contractors to principal employers. Most, if not all, of the more than 400,000 workers were neither unionized nor covered by collective bargaining agreements. The most recent survey revealed that more than 50% of registered small, medium, and large companies employ contractual workers.

The principal employers and their middlemen, in other words, are in the same business of extracting profit from contractual workers with the former enjoying reduced labor cost by paying workers the barest minimum per day while the latter get their respective commissions per head from that trading transaction. If this is not an immoral, exploitative trading arrangement, then what is it?

Furthermore, middlemen serve as walls or physical barriers to the workers’ full exercise of their constitutional rights, including the right to form unions so they can directly and collectively negotiate improvements in their working conditions with their principal employers. This is because direct responsibility as a consequence of direct hiring is effectively lost the moment employers are allowed to contract out or outsource jobs usually performed by regular workers.

Hence, when third parties or middlemen demolished the essence of that bilateral wedlock, job losses and children of endo emerged in many forms such as the 5-5-5, kabo system, outsourcing, and several other schemes of job/service contracting.

Ending endo is justice

Labor groups have gone too far in negotiating with the government for a policy that would promote and protect their rights and welfare guaranteed under the Constitution and international conventions.

It'’s about time that on this class issue, the Chief Executive exercises his political judgement in favor of the workers rather than preserve the status quo being enjoyed to the max by the capitalists. (READ: Palace sides with Bello: No EO vs contractrualization, up to Congress to pass law)

Failing to do so would openly expose the class bias of this administration. The recent survey has already shown that the level of satisfaction of class D & E for this administration is on a decline. –– Rappler.com

Rene Magtubo is the chairperson of Partido Manggagawa

BASAHIN: Unang bahagi: Ang maybahay kong Thai, ang Big C, at ako

Dumaan kami sa mga panahon ng bigong pag-asam, kapag nakikita sa kanyang CT Scan o Pet Scan na humihina na ang kanser at maaaring nasa remission siya. Ito ang mga panahon kung kailan pumapayag ang kanyang mga doktor na magbakasyon siya mula sa chemotherapy session; ito ang panahon na nagtitipon sa bahay ang kanyang mga kaklase noong high school na tinawag niyang “Fatboys” para kumain at uminom. Naging pagkakataon din ito para tanggapin nila ako bilang isa sa kanila kahit na di ako gaanong nakakapagsalita ng Thai. Nalaman ng isang aktibistang tulad ko na napakalaki palang tulong ang nagagawa ng Google Translate hindi lang para sa komunikasyon kundi sa paglikha ng isang komunidad.

Kapag maayos ang resulta ng CT Scan ay nakakapagbiyahe kami, at ang dulot nito ay pag-asa; kasabay ng pag-asa ay ang pagbabalik ng lakas. Doon kami nagpupunta sa mga bayang hindi pa niya nabibisita, tulad ng Brazil, Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, at Italy. Nag-apply ako sa mga fellowship at bilang guro kaya’t nakapanirahan kami sa New York, Wisconsin, at Japan nang ilang buwan. Binabalikan ko ngayon ang mga naganap at naiisip ko na hindi niya pinagkatiwalaan ang mga positibong pagbasa tungkol sa lagay ng kanyang kanser kaya’t pinanghawakan niya ang lahat ng pagkakataong mabuhay sakaling hindi nga totoo ang mga pagbasa sa tests.

Masasayang panahon ang paglalagi niya sa mga paboritong tindahan ng damit sa US, tulad ng TJ Maxx, noong nasa Madison, Wisconsin, kami, o ang pagpila namin para sa pinakamasarap na tonkatsu sa isang maliit na resto sa may subway station sa Tokyo. Mahilig siyang magluto kaya’t nag-iimbita kami ng mga bisita noong nasa Maynila para matikman ang kanyang lutong tom yum kung – sopas na may hipon – at tom kha gai, isang uri ng ulam na manok.

Mahal niya ang Pilipinas, at gusto niyan matuto ng Tagalog, ngunit tulad ko pagdating sa Thai, nadidismaya siya sa pagiging kumplikado ng Tagalog. “Nakakaloko ang dami ng paraan ng pagbubuo ng mga salita,” sabi niya. “Sa Thai, isa lang ang tense namin.” Ang sagot ko naman sa kanya, “Oo nga, pero nakakaloko din ang paggamit 'nyo ng tono sa wika. Ang ibig sabihin ng isang salita ay depende sa tono ng pagkakabigkas nito, tulad ng salitang klai na maaaring ang ibig sabihin ay ‘malapit’ o ‘malayo,’ o ang salitang suay na puwedeng maging ‘maganda’o ‘pangit.’”

Digmaang kemikal

Ngunit laging may paraan ang realidad para agawin ang aming masasayang panahon. Pagkatapos ng ilang buwan, makikita naman sa susunod na CT Scan na muling dumami ang kanyang cancer cells. Naging malinaw na ang nangyayari: aatras ang kanser dahil sa bagong chemo formula kaya’t nababawasan ito pagdating ng pagbasa sa tests, at muling babalik para matalo ang kaaway na gamot, at ang pagbabalik at muling pag-atake nito’y parang isang paghihiganti. May digmaang kemikal na nagaganap sa loob ng katawan ng aking asawa, at siya ang natatalo sa giyera. Ngunit nagpatuloy ang aming ilusyon – mas sa kanya kaysa sa akin – na matatalo ang kanser kapag lalong pinatapang ang chemo formula.

Simula sa kanyang pagpanaw, minumulto ako ng katanungang kung ang chemo ba ay nakapagpabilis ng kanyang pagkamatay o nakapagpahaba ng kanyang buhay. Hindi ko na marahil malalaman ang kasagutan.

Tuluyang nabasag ang pangarap na mapapahaba ng chemo ang buhay niya nitong kalagitnaan ng Enero, nang magsimula nang umatake ang kanser sa kanyang utak, na ang dulot ay sobrang sakit kaya’t kinailangan siyang dalhin sa emergency room, kung saan sinaksakan siya ng morphine. Nagkaroon ulit siya ng radiation therapy nang 10 araw, na nakapagpabalik sa kanya ng lakas ng katawan at kalooban. Dahil dito naging sentro pa siya ng kasayahan sa cancer ward ng Chulalongkorn University Hospital. Biniro ko pa siya na kung magkakaroon ng eleksiyon sa ward na ito, mananalo siyang kinatawan ng mga pasyente.

Ang huling opensiba ng ‘Big C’

Naiuwi pa namin siya noong kalagitnaan ng Enero, ngunit muling ibinalik di pa nakakalipas ang dalawang linggo dahil sa pag-atake muli ng kanser sa kanyang utak. Sumailalim siyang muli sa radiation therapy, na nagdala ng panandaliang mabuting kalagayan. Ngunit nang sundan ito ng isa pang CT Scan, ibinalita ng mga doktor na nasa opensiba na ang kanser sa iba’t ibang bahagi ng kanyang katawan at ipahihinto na nila ang chemo dahil wala na itong magagawa.

Matapang niyang tinanggap ang balita. Magkatabi kaming nakahiga noon, kinuha niya ang kamay ko isang gabi, at sinabing sa kabila ng hirap na dinanas sa loob ng apat at kalahating taon, pinakamasayang panahon ito ng buhay niya, mas makabuluhan kaysa sa kanyang tagumpay sa propesyon. “Chan raak khun mak mak,” ibinulong niya sa Thai. “I love you very much.” Pagkatapos ay itinanong niya, “Ano ang mangyayari sa iyo. Ikaw ang inaalala ko. Sabi ko kay Jit ipangako niya na aalagaan ka niya,” kuwento niya tungkol sa pinag-usapan nilang magpinsan.

Noong Marso 22, ipinagdiwang ni Ko ang ika-55 kaarawan niya sa isang ritwal na pinamunuan ng isang Buddhist monk. Ayon sa paniniwalang Buddhist, makakatulong ang ritwal na iyon para, sa susunod niyang reinkarnasyon, ay palayain siya sa paghihirap na tulad ng dinanas niya. Nang sumunod na araw, sinundo na siya ng isang ambulansya para dalhin sa isang hospice na pinatatakbo ng Katolikong madre sa bahaging downtown ng Bangkok. Lilipas ang apat na araw bago siya papanaw.

Mga palaisipan

Noong limang araw ng seremonya para sa mga pumanaw sa paniniwalang Buddhist ay naunawaan ko nang lubos ang epekto ng aking asawa sa ibang tao. May ilang daan din ang dumating bilang pagbibigay-galang sa isang taong humaplos sa buhay nila – isang humanitarian worker, isang aktibista, na ang naging layunin ay pag-isahin ang magkakaaaway na partido, isang taong matapat sa mga kasama sa trabaho at sa mga kaibigan, at deboto sa mga kamag-anak.

Bago natapos ang mga ritwal, naghanap ako ng mga kasagutan sa kanyang mga kasamahan at kaibigang naroroon. Dalawang misteryo ito na kapag nanghihingi ng sagot sa aking asawa ay tinatapatan lang niya ng halik o ngiti.

Ang unang misteryo ay kung bakit biglaang tinapos ni Ko ang kanyang buhay publiko limang taon na ang nakakaraan. Nasagot ito nang sinabi ng ilan sa pinakamalalapit niyang kaibigan: isa sa mga dahilan ay may kinalaman sa trabaho. Pagkatapos ng 10 taong pagiging executive director ng Siam Cement Foundation, gusto ng kompanya na ilipat si Ko sa ibang puwesto, at kahit naiintindihan ni Ko ang dahilan nito, pakiramdam niya’y marami pa siyang magagawa bilang pinuno ng ahensiya upang isaayos ang serbisyong humanitarian sa Thailand, kaya siya nagbitiw.

Ang sabi naman ng isa pang kaibigan niya, maaaring may kinalaman ito sa naging alitan sa pagitan ng “Yellowshirts” at “Redshirts” na naghati sa politika sa Thailand noong panahon ni Thaksin. Nakaranas siya nang pagka-disilusyon dahil dito, lalo pat’may mga kaibigan ding naghiwalay dahil sa pagkakahati sa dalawang grupo.

Ang ikatlong piraso ng puzzle ay galing sa isa pang kaibigan, na nagkuwentong sinabi sa kanya ni Ko na nagawa na niya lahat ng maaaring gawin sa karera niya kaya’t ang gusto naman niyang maranasan ay buhay-may-asawa.

Ngunit di pa rin nito nasagot ang palaisipan tungkol sa pagsasara niya ng pinto sa isang napakalapit na kaibigan, dating Punong Ministro Anan, na itinuring niyang parang ikalawang ama. Ang sabi ng dating punong ministro sa akin: “Sinikap kong muling umugnay sa kanya, ngunit nagsara na siya ng pinto. Hindi ko ito maintindihan.”

Maaaring hindi na lubos na masasagot ang misteryo tungkol sa pagbitiw ng aking asawa sa buhay na politikal at panlipunan. Kahit na rin ang sagot sa ikalawang misteryo – kung bakit pinili niya ako bilang partner kahit mas maraming nakahihigit. Kahit gusto ko pang malaman ang sagot dito, wala na ring saysay. Nagsimula kami bilang mabuting magkaibigan, ngunit nang lumisan si Ko, ang pagkakaibigang ito ay isa nang malalim na pag-iibigan na dumaan sa isang pakikipaglaban sa kanser.

Bago umalis si Punong Ministro Anan sa seremonyang kanyang pinangunahan, nagpasalamat siya sa akin sa ginawa kong pag-aalaga kay Ko. Hindi agad ako nakasagot dahil sa paninikip sa dibdib. “Gagawin ko ulit iyon kung mabibigyan muli ng pagkakataon,” ang nasabi ko.

Walang pagsuko 

Isang araw pagkatapos ng cremation, isinaboy ko sa Thailand Gulf, sa ilalim ng malamlam na sikat ng araw, ang mga labi ng taong nagdulot ng kahulugan sa buhay ko sa nakalipas na limang taon. Nanalo ang Big C, ngunit dahil sa matapang na pakikipaglaban dito, hindi mararamdaman ni Ko na nawalan siya ng dangal sa kinahinatnan ng laban. Hindi siya sumuko.

Naalala ko ang naganap limang taon na ang nakakalipas, noong Mayo 2013, nang pumalaot kami sakay ng bangka, marahil sa eksaktong lugar din sa dagat para isaboy ang mga labi ng kanyang ina. Mayroon ba siyang pakiramdam na limang taon matapos nito ay sasamahan niya ang kanyang ina sa pusod ng dagat? Hindi niya napigil ang pagtulo ng luha noon, tulad nang di ko pagkapigil sa akin ngayon, habang pinasasalamatan ko siya sa pagbibigay sa akin ng pinakamagagandang taon ng buhay ko. – Rappler.com 

Ang Rappler commentator na si Walden Bello ay asawa nang namayapang Suranuch “Ko” Thongsila

On April 9, President Duterte issued a warning to mining companies in a speech in Davao City: "I do not want to see bald mountains in the areas you have mined. I want to see trees as tall as me in 6 months. If I don't see any in the area you destroyed, consider your permit revoked."

These are bold and important words. The Philippines hosts dozens of major mining companies, many of them operating environmentally-destructive open-pit mines. Planting trees is a standard requirement in mining agreements. But, as suggested by President Duterte's warning, it is not one always taken seriously by mining companies.

A case in point is one of the Philippines' largest open pit mines: that of Australian-Canadian mining giant OceanaGold in the municipality of Didipio in Nueva Vizcaya. OceanaGold has been operating the Didipio mine since 2013. As we saw for ourselves in research trips there in 2013 and 2017, it has not met its reforestation requirements.

True, OceanaGold brags that they won awards for their reforestation efforts. The firm began its reforestation program years before the mine opened, and was the recipient of a 2009 National Environmental Award for its forestry program from the Philippine Department of Environment and Natural Resources.

Our most recent visit was in July 2017, when we traveled to 3 of the company's reforestation areas near the Didipio mine to see if the reality lived up to the awards or even to its reforestation requirements.

We expected to see plantations filled with healthy trees, certainly as tall as President Duterte. Instead, we found hillsides where we were hard-pressed to distinguish the new trees from the surrounding low-lying shrubs, grasses, and other vegetation. Each of the 3 sites had its unique problems but, overall, we found nothing that could be termed a successful plantation, never mind reforestation. A vast majority of trees were either dead, dying, or too small to survive.

OceanaGold is obligated by its mining agreement with the government not only to plant trees but also to maintain these forest areas for 3 years. None of what we witnessed met OceanaGold's obligations under its mining agreement. And none of the sites met President Duterte's new criteria.

In addition, people in the communities near the reforestation sites were outraged that OceanaGold had been allowed to cut down (or submerge in tailings ponds, as we also saw for ourselves) native hardwoods, while replanting with plantation species, such as mahogany, non-native rubber, and gmelina. (That this was allowable under OceanaGold’s mining agreement is outrageous.)

Our 2017 investigations also revealed other problems at the Didipio mine that are typical of other mines in the country, in terms of very limited economic benefits and very high social costs. Supporters of the mining industry in the Philippines are quick to point out that the Philippines is one of the top 5 mineral countries in the world in terms of reserves of gold, copper, nickel, and other metals. It is estimated to have over $1 trillion worth of minerals beneath its soil. Yet, the 41 large-scale industrial mines in operation in 2016 contributed less than 1% of the country's gross domestic product, with negligible job benefits after the construction stage.

Displacement, human rights violations

In addition to the failures of reforestation, we found widespread displacement of families around the mine site in Nueva Vizcaya, and human rights violations starting as far back as the construction of the mine. As early as 2011, the Philippine Commission on Human Rights had found in an investigation of OceanaGold's construction phase that "human rights violations were committed against the indigenous people inhabiting Didipio" and requested the "probable withdrawal" of the permit. (Given the links between some of the Philippine elite and mining, it is not surprising that the Philippine executive branch did not follow through on that recommendation.)

In 2017, provincial officials and community members reported to us a number of related issues that the communities near the mine had and were experiencing: vibrations during blasting, excessive noise from the mine (which we witnessed for ourselves in 2013), fumes from the vents, solid waste generation, dust from the mine and haul road, erosion, and sedimentation from runoff.

Weighing heavily on local inhabitants' minds was that they did not know the poisonous chemicals used by OceanaGold to separate the gold from the rock. Given what they knew and learned about mining, the farmers in the barangays near the mine were understandably afraid that contaminated water from the mine would destroy their rich agricultural lands. Nueva Vizcaya is one of the fruit and vegetable capitals of Luzon. OceanaGold has dismissed such concerns with vague reassurances that it does "green" and "responsible" mining. Yet, monitoring reports from the rivers around the mine have already indicated high levels of lead, manganese, cadmium, sulfates, iron, arsenic, and selenium. Farmers downstream told us that, in the 3 drier months of the year, there were large-scale fish kills in the river that flows from the Didipio area. Locals also reported rashes on the skin of fisherfolk who swam in that river, as well as on the skin of carabao bathing in the river.

This year is a key time to act on OceanaGold’s reforestation scam and the other problems from mining, given that its current 25-year mining agreement expires in 2019. The company obviously wants to renew its license.

But community groups and the provincial council in Nueva Vizcaya have called for an end to the license. Indeed, in March 2018, Rappler reported that "several provincial officials of Nueva Vizcaya province have promised to block the renewal of a soon-to-expire permit of OceanaGold Philippines… Board Member Flodemonte Gerdan, chairman of the Committee on Environment of the Sangguniang Panlalawigan, said the board will prevent the renewal of [OceanaGold's] permit, citing environmental and human rights issues the company allegedly neglected."

Over the next 6 months, the people of Didipio and mining sites all over the country would do well to remind President Duterte that words without action turn to lies. And, if most of the trees remain shorter than President Duterte, this will be just one of the many reasons why the Philippine government should tell OceanaGold to pack up and pay for the damages it has caused. In the words of President Duterte, "…consider your permit revoked."– Rappler.com

Robin Broad, a professor of development studies at American University in Washington DC, is writing a book about mining as a John Simon Guggenheim Fellow. John Cavanagh directs the Washington-based Institute for Policy Studies. They are co-authors of (among others) Plundering Paradise: The Struggle for the Environment in the Philippines, and have worked in the Philippines over the past 4 decades.

Whether you breezed or struggled through it, you’re here now, in your moment, dear graduate. Congratulations to you, congratulations to your parents!

It’s a time for celebration in a nation that puts high premium on education, even at the cost of separation of families for parents who toil abroad just to put you to school.

For you who are conscious of these sacrifices, you know it’s time to give back.

For many of you who are eager to leave your regimented college life, you know it’s not going to be easy.

You belong to what is now called the post-digital age.

What has transpired since you first stepped into college is a fast-break of upheavals in your life and your society – whether this involved how you made friends, researched for your papers, received money from your overworked parents, or how you chose your leaders. 

These changes have eased many things for you, but they have also complicated the world you will soon be shaping as you join the work force.

Robots may one day replace you. It is, after all, the age where intelligence has become artificial and machines are now learning. Labor is being automated at a pace that human beings are not psyched up for.

In Southeast Asia alone, at least a quarter of the jobs may be automated in the next decade or so, according to the International Labor Organization. The BPO industry here, which as of 2017 remained the biggest job generator, will soon tap machines as its call center agents.

You are also joining a Philippine labor force of more than 40.335 million Filipinos as of 2017, a number that is lower than in the previous year. Not to burst your bubble this early, but a leftist think tank said the job losses last year were the worst since the 1997 Asian financial crash.

Yet, you are going to conquer a world of endless possibilities. 

For while technology has disrupted your environment, it has also opened the global stage for you, where you can now compete with the best, collaborate with young professionals from thousands of miles away, and pitch projects virtually to investors and employers on the lookout for new ideas. You are more connected and agile than any graduates who came before you.

While technology has now robbed you of certain tasks and jobs, it has also highlighted the need for skills that could never be automated – working hard and ethically, communicating well, thinking critically, persuading people, negotiating conflicts, making judgment calls, among others. You are more challenged than any graduates who came before you.

It’s by no coincidence, for instance, that in JobStreet’s 2018 Fresh Graduates Report, the highest paid jobs for fresh grads were in the fields of high-level skills: law, public relations or communication, and journalism.

What are we saying? 

Four years in college have not adequately prepared you for what lies ahead. 

The new world demands continuing education, and in your case, that process should begin while you’re hunting for jobs. 

As more jobs are passed on to machines, you need to take stock of what skills you need to enhance to make you irreplaceable.

And as countries become more insular, societies seem more discriminating, and leaders turn more tyrannical, you need to find value in caring for more than the paychecks you are aspiring to bring home.

You’ve come this far. You can begin to dream again.

But first know how the world has both vastly changed and has remained the same. – Rappler.com

Memo: On cursing and profanity
To: My children, employees, co-workers, friends, Romans, countrymen and myself
From: Sylvia Estrada Claudio, citizen of the civilized part of the Philippines

Now then, I must admit that I have erred in this matter and not very long ago. Profanity has become so common place these days that I too, fell into it.

My gym mates of 5 years ago will attest that when I began working out with them in what I felt was the most strenuous and downright painful set of movements ever known to woman, I did utter...well... profanity. Honestly, for an obese weakling it felt like torture and caused me to use very strong words. I must thank my gym mates for very gently calling me out on the matter. I did stop. But never really apologized. So if they read this – apologies!

Which brings me to the point about whether one should use profanity. One should. I wouldn’t say it is always wrong. But there is a proper time to do so. Usually this happens when one is in an extreme state of emotion such as when one is being tortured or watching someone being tortured. So the issue isn’t whether you can or can't use those words, it is a question of whether your extreme agitation is justified.

In my case, I admit that it was not justified to curse just because I felt physically miserable. After all the pain (extreme pain) and breathlessness (extreme breathlessness) was taken on willingly. The misery also partly came from insecurity because everyone else in the class was doing far more difficult levels of work and seemed to be actually enjoying themselves. Why, those, sonnamaguns!

Which leads me to my point about someone who curses when he or she is criticized. This kind of a person must be so insecure that even the slightest wound to the overweening ego is sufficient to get him all agitated. Thus, when certain people defend a certain person who now resides in Malacañan Palace by saying we are just too prissy and soft-hearted when we are upset by his profanity, I say, “Pooh”. He is the one who has a soft and cowardly heart if he curses all the time.

In any case, let us assume that most people do not lead lives of extreme agitation. Or rather, most normal people would not generally be thrown into extremis beyond the occasional blue moon. In fact, let us assume that high government officials, like say a president, who claims he is so beloved and respected, would rarely be in a situation where he could be so provoked.

Methinks therefore that when this certain president curses like a gutter-dweller, that it is because those around him probably treat him with great disrespect. Or maybe, given the unlikelihood of this, he has bats in the belfry.

Verbal nuclear bomb

We must reserve cursing for those rare times when we are really agitated. We must consider profanity as the verbal equivalent of a nuclear bomb. Bombs dirty, destroy, and diminish any discussion or exchange. Verbal nuclear bombs need to be reserved for those times when annihilation is immanent. It must be used in the hopes of signaling to the person that he must stop whatever egregious thing he or she is up to or physical blows will ensue.

If we keep throwing profanity about so that people begin to be inured to them, then what have we left when we really, really, really need to insult somebody?

Let me be clear, in places where we wish to get along well and not hurt others, we should always try not to resort to violence. Verbal violence, the psychological studies show, is violence nonetheless that affects all who hear whether they are the object of that cursing or not. There is really something whack about the normalization of verbal violence and the idea that when we wish to express strong condemnation we need to resort to physical violence like, for example, extrajudicial killings.

This is why there is a higher standard for government officials in terms of their use of language. Let us say that an ordinary person were to say to another ordinary person, “WTF, man!” We could anticipate that there will be fisticuffs. But when a person who the holds immense powers of the presidency begins to curse, he might call out the police and armed forces.

This is why we expect of our leaders that they not be so easily riled by criticism. Otherwise they might use the tremendous powers of their office to declare martial law in Mindanao, kill 20,000 people, or create false drug charges and illegally imprison a senator. It is kind of hard to believe a government that claims all these dire actions are taken with gravitas when they happen after someone emits extremely foul-smelling verbal diarrhea.

Please don’t come as you are

Did you notice also, dear reader, that cursing often is so discriminatory? Curses are often just descriptions of people who are marginalized. There should be nothing insulting about calling someone “bakla” (gay). There should be nothing insulting about pointing out someone’s race.

When women are called out for having vaginas for example, that should not be an insult because, well, women have vaginas. So curses like these reveal a mind that is not only abusive of the weak (so much for someone’s claim that he is a protector of the people) and unimaginative (so very unbecoming of someone who himself has no imagination to call the Chief Justice, “bobo”).

It also shows a large amount of selfishness when you want the entire nation to watch you have an emotional melt down. It behooves you to go to your room and come out only when you are again fit to be with others. Please sir, don’t be all over the place like that.

Indeed, indeed, indeed. Cursing does have an aura of authenticity. It shows raw emotion. It shows the man as he truly is. But if this is the true character of the man, I would prefer a little hypocrisy. I would prefer you hide the real you and stop cursing. It will be less embarrassing for all of us. – Rappler.com

Sylvia Estrada Claudio is a teacher. She is tired of telling children to turn off the TV whenever high government officials are speaking these days.

My friend, Emilio*, recently opened up to me about being in a polyamorous relationship.  

I wasn’t entirely surprised, but the reporter in me was intrigued and wanted to know more. (TBH, even if I weren’t a reporter, I would be interested.) 

“What are the...mechanics of that?” I asked, groping for the appropriate terms and not entirely sure I was using the right ones.  

Emilio, pragmatic realist that he was, pushed up his glasses and proceeded to explain. 

His primary relationship is his longtime girlfriend, Dani*. They have been living together for a couple of years now, but Emilio has certain needs that she cannot fulfill. 

And, no, they’re not entirely related to sex, kinks, or fetishes. 

“I’m a very affectionate and showy person. She is not. I crave frequent time with someone. She can’t always give that because her work requires her to be alone or away for long periods of time. I respect that, and she is aware that I have needs that she cannot fulfill all the time.”

Emilio has several other women that he has relationships with. He hangs out with them and has long, intimate talks with them, which satisfy his need for companionship, meaningful conversation, and intimacy. Sex is not always part of the relationship. 

“But isn’t that just like a good gal pal? A wingwoman? A platonic relationship? A buddy who happens to have a vagina instead of a penis?” I think I rattled off half of that list before Emilio stopped me.  

“Not really. It’s a relationship by virtue of the time and energy spent with these women, and it’s not entirely platonic. The possibility of physical affection on a more intimate level is always there,” Emilio explained. He tacked down the reminder that “there is a lot of affection you can share with someone without sleeping with them.”

“But if you do want to sleep with another person, what about Dani?” I pressed. 

“I would have to talk about it with Dani. She has to be OK with it. Communication and honesty are always key. Everything can be talked about,” he said. 

As I let the details swirl and simmer in my head, Emilio added: “It’s not Dani I have a problem with, and she knows that. She and I are very happy and stable together. It’s just that the confines of monogamy can be toxic.”

We all have our share of stories of how monogamous relationships can become suffocating. There are women who need to tell their boyfriends or husbands where they are going, whom they are going with, and even what they will be wearing. I even have one story from a guy who told me his girlfriend told him to turn on the location settings in Viber so she could see where he is. She’s an ex-girlfriend now.

Some relationships are territorial and hyper-possessive in the belief that “being with someone” means that you somehow own them. True, individual personalities and not just the parameters of monogamy make this possible, but the interpretation of monogamy as being “only you and me” legitimizes this kind of partner policing.

Toxic monogamy 

Experts, couples, and singletons have been weighing in on how monogamy may no longer suit the way life and relationships are lived today. Longer lifespan is one of the commonly cited factors.

In a talk I went to in New York in 2014, relationship expert Esther Perel talked about the pressures monogamy puts on couples. 

“We are living longer now, so couples have to love twice as long– just one person. Never before have we been so dependent on one person for all our all our needs: emotional and financial security, and our psychological well-being. Before, we had a complete village and different people to look to for all those needs,” said Perel.  

Perel also spoke of couples who had experienced infidelity and saw how many them – especially those who had never strayed before – went through intense emotional upheaval like the death of a loved one or an illness before having an affair. In those cases, Perel observed, “Affairs are sometimes an anecdote to deadness.” 

In this piece for The Atlantic, Perel talked about why even happy people cheat and cites the case of Priya*, a woman who had been happily married for many years, but was carrying on a wild wicked affair with a truck driver. He was the opposite of what was an ideal partner for Priya and their trysts often took place in his truck, but all that made the excitement of the affair skyrocket to adolescent hormone levels. 

“Priya’s affair…it’s a crisis of identity, an internal rearrangement of her personality…. Her daughters are becoming teenagers and enjoying a freedom she never knew…. As she nears the mid-century mark, she is having her own belated adolescent rebellion,” wrote Perel.

Perel stresses that it is not for her to decide for her clients if they should stay or if they should go. Rather, she focuses on helping them understand and uncover the reasons behind their unfaithfulness. 

Is it really cheating?

Dating apps have normalized hook-up culture and have made it so much easier to meet other people and stray. Throw in how internet chat sites and smartphones have enabled camming, sexting, cybersex – essentially a form of sexual exchange without an exchange of bodily fluids – and the hardlines that used to define cheating become increasingly blurry.

Relationship expert and sex columnist Dan Savage, who spoke alongside Perel at the same talk in New York, has always been a proponent of non-monogamy. Cheating happens, and happens more often than we think, and “that’s OK,” said Savage, who added that men no longer had the monopoly on infidelity. Women did it, too.

Savage and his husband, Terry, have been together for more than two decades. They have lived many of those years in an open relationship, or what he describes as: “We were monogamous or something like it. We were monogamish.”

In an interview with Anna Sale for the podcast Death, Sex and Money, Savage talked about his enduring marriage, and said that occasional infidelity could add excitement to relationships and can help keep couples together.  

Savage turned the question back to Sale, who is unmarried but in a happy committed relationship, and asked her what she would do if her partner ever cheated on her.  

Sale paused before answering. “I don’t know. I read you, Dan Savage. I get you, but I don’t know if I could get over…the hurt.” 

There is no one answer to this question of monogamy. It remains an ideal arrangement for some couples who are in happy and healthy relationships with one person, but maybe the bigger question is: should monogamy be seen as the be-all and end-all status that fits all relationships?  

Does monogamy need an overhaul to keep up with the ever-changing norms of dating, relationships, and cohabitation? Does it need a systems update to make its once clearly-defined boundaries compatible with the various ways indiscretion now exists? Should it be seen as a relationship flavor whose ingredient mix needs to be defined and liked by the parties concerned? 

Whatever the answer, it is clear that relationships and the way we have them are changing and will continue to change. It may have many different permutations that run across a spectrum. Monogamy is not necessarily better than polyamory, or the other way around.

After our conversation, my polyamorous friend, Emilio, sent me this article to better understand what it is like to love more than one person and we talked more about its own drawbacks.

Poly couples have to negotiate and navigate the conditions and rules that their arrangements are premised on. Neither are poly relationships impervious from becoming abusive or manipulative. 

Couples who stick it out with “classic monogamy” may have stability and security, but will also have to resist any drudgery and the toxic relationship ticks that comes with it.

Perhaps a change in mindset is needed to manage the monotony that often emerges as the insidious twin of monogamy. A burst of creativity to reinvent existing longterm relationships and giving them the needed jolt. “Instead of thinking of forever as being rooted in the same partnership until death, think of it as having 2 or 3 relationships with the same person throughout your lives,” Perel suggested.  

It’s not about having an off-on switch to the relationship, Perel stressed. It’s about choosing to fall in love with the same person and starting over a new journey. She summarized it best when she wrote: “Often, when a couple comes to me in the wake of an affair, it is clear to me that their first marriage is over. So I ask them: Would you like to create a second one together?” – Rappler.com

*Names have been changed.  

Ana P. Santos writes about sex and gender issues. Her Rappler column, DASH of SAS, is a spin-off of her blog, Sex and Sensibilities (SAS).

MANILA, Philippines – Leloy Claudio chats with the first female summa cum laude from the University of the Philippines History Department, Chiqui Agoncillo.

The two discuss a range of profound issues – from history as a change agent, to the humility, honesty and empathy that should go into the writing of history, to spotting biases and understanding that some biases are inevitably inherent.

How can history build nations, and heal fractured societies? Watch and learn. Basagan ng Trip, Wednesday 8:30 pm.– Rappler.com