Saturday, September 24, 2016

Face Off in the Palace: The Laurels versus Marcos

The Laurels and Ferdinand Marcos were no strangers to each other. It will be recalled that sometime in 1964, Marcos wanted to challenge then-President Diosdado Macapagal in the national convention of the Liberal Party. He realized later that he had no chance of winning in that convention as LP’s presidential standard-bearer, and so Marcos approached Speaker Jose “Pepito” Laurel, eldest son of the wartime president, to discuss his predicament. Right off, Speaker Laurel, along with a group of NPs that included Puyat, Roy, and Almendras, worked for Marcos’ conversion into a Nacionalista. Marcos’ entry in the NP, however, was not well received by the party’s hierarchy. Especially displeased was NP chief Eulogio “Amang” Rodriguez, who refused to give Marcos his blessing. My god! Pepito is bringing a devil to the party! Amang was quoted saying. But as Fate would have it, Pepito Laurel managed to sneak Marcos in, and from there win the presidency from Diosdado Macapagal in 1965. The rest is history.

Fast forward to 1978. Just about two months before the scheduled interim Batasan Pambansa elections, President Marcos invited his fellow Nacionalistas to a conclave in Malacañang, where the president would attempt to pull off his biggest surprise. Present in that meeting were some NP eminentos: Emmanuel Pelaez, Arturo Tolentino, Jose Roy, Cornelio Villareal, J. Antonio Araneta, and the Laurel brothers, Speaker Jose “Pepito” Laurel, and his younger brother, Salvador “Doy” Laurel. Bereft of the usual pleasantries, President Marcos went straight to the jugular and announced the impending abolition of NP and LP, and in their stead, he proposed the creation of a new political party that would be in accord with the spirit of the “New Society.” Visibly upset by Marcos’ temerity to abolish the party that made him President, Speaker Pepito Laurel swooped on Marcos, and angrily said: “Just a moment, Mr. President. I was not coming here at all. I had sworn I would not come to Malacañang as long as martial law was in force. But I was told by NP Secretary General Constancio Castaneda that today was the burial of the Nacionalista Party. And so I put on my best suit, my funeral suit, and as you can see my tie is black. Because for the sake of the Nacionalista Party, which made us all, I will go anywhere, even to Malacañang.”

Pepito Laurel, reported one account, was so enraged that he virtually pointed his finger at Marcos’ face and went on to lecture the president on what loyalty was all about. The silence, said Doy Laurel, who was beside his elder brother the whole time, was deafening. Of course, the people around Ferdinand Marcos were all taken aback, as was the president. No one reacted but everybody knew what the Speaker meant. Apparently, the Laurels could not accept that the Marcos would absorb the Nacionalista Party, which was a legacy of their father Jose P. Laurel, into his own Kilusang Bagong Lipunan. Then the Speaker made a last-ditch effort to save the NP, and told Marcos, with all the passion at his command, not to kill it. “This is the party that made you president, twice. It should not be recorded that this party born in 1907, was killed by Ferdinand Marcos in 1978. Don’t kill it, Mr. President. Just let it rest, let it sleep for a while.” In an effort to hasten their predicament, Speaker Laurel proposed a win-win solution and suggested to form— instead of a party— a movement that would serve as an “umbrella” for all candidates in the upcoming elections. The President, who held his peace all along, liked Pepito’s “umbrella idea,” and bought it almost immediately. And so it was settled. But before the Laurels could stalk off, the Speaker once again surveyed the people around the president, people he hardly knew, feigned a grin and said: “Mr. President, I noticed a lot of new faces around; when your boat sinks, these new faces will be the first to abandon you.” As it happened, only Vicente “Ting” Paterno, a Marcos official at that time, had the guts and the decency to accompany the Laurels to their car.

The “umbrella idea” worked; NP got a reprieve up to that point. But it was just a matter of time before the final split between the Laurels and Ferdinand Marcos, erstwhile political allies during pre-martial law years, came to the fore. ..

x x x

The Marcos connection

It is safe to conclude that the schism was set out early on. And as one story is oft-told, it was the Old Man Laurel who saved the young Marcos from being clapped in the calaboose for murder. (And, as related above, it was Speaker Laurel who welcomed Marcos into the NP.) No wonder that Marcos showed deferential attitude toward the Laurels from day one and didn’t dare fight them openly, except in politics. In a stirring eulogy on President Jose P. Laurel, delivered before the Senate on February 5, 1960, Ferdinand E. Marcos, then a Senator, regarded the Old Man Laurel in this manner:

Objectivity cannot be mine. My eyes cannot but be closed to his shortcomings and my heart moved by gratitude. For I owe this man my life, not once but thrice. Above all, I owe him my faith in God.

As a young man not yet out of college unjustly haled to court for public trial for a crime I did not commit, I had called our system of justice a travesty and, what was worse, my belief in God a mockery. But I found justice in the hand of a great soul.

Justice Jose P. Laurel of the Supreme Court returned me my faith in my fellow men and in God. I found justice in his sharp mind and trenchant pen. (Emphasis mine)

Given Marcos’ deep admiration, respect and debt of gratitude to Jose P. Laurel, Doy could very well have chosen to feather his own nest under martial rule and played the role of a bootlicker but that wasn’t just his style. Instead, Doy chose struggle over comfort, community over self, which to his way of thinking Filipino patriotism best exemplified. Whatever the case, Doy Laurel seemed to have played his cards rather well and took advantage of this so-called “debt of gratitude,” and used it to pound the Marcos dictatorship to the hilt.

Whether the Laurels made a fatal mistake in bringing Marcos into the fold of the NP is a matter of opinion, but certainly Doy’s older brother, Speaker Jose B. Laurel Jr., had cried mea culpa—“mea maxima culpa” were his precise words, actually— many times since and vowed to get even. Doy, for his part, swore he would restore democracy in the country, that he would blaze the trail fighting Marcos and his forces —Batangas-style—that would leave everybody in awe.

And thus it was that the paths of two political titans, fraternity brothers no less, crossed again.

Excerpts from “UNIDO: The Political Party that Brought Marcos Down

Monday, May 16, 2016

CELIA DIAZ LAUREL: Muse of Philippine Theatre

By Donna Dimaano-Bonoan

Unlike other gods who had their counterpart goddesses, Dionysus or Bacchus, Greek god of theatre, appears to have had no particular muse. Good for us Filipinos, the Grecian roots and influence of arts and theatre has led to the emergence of our own stage drama royalties, one of whom was recognized in the 2016 Philippine Gawad Buhay Awards held last April 28, 2016 at Onstage in Greenbelt, Makati. Alongside National Artist for Dance Alice Reyes, Madame Celia Diaz Laurel (CDL), was given the Natatanging Gawad Award, a lifetime achievement award, for her exemplary work and dedication for Philippine theatre and arts in general.

Start of Art. Maria Luz Celia Teresita Diaz Laurel, born to a devout Catholic family, had almost missed her UP Fine Arts education if her mother, as recounted by National Artist Nick Joaquin in the book Doy Laurel: In Profile, released in 2012, only insisted on her sweeping pagan belief on UP and its people. But trusting a friend who promised to look after the young Celia, Mrs. Conching Diaz finally allowed CDL to enroll in June 1947. And just like the war-ruined Villamor Hall where the School of Fine Arts and the Conservatory of Music were lodged, CDL was about to start a new chapter in her life which is far from the medical aspirations that she used to entertain when she was young.

Art Masters. Landing at the helm of Dominador Castaneda (art history), Ambrosio Morales (modeling and sculpturing) and no less than the 1972 National Artist for Painting, Fernando Amorsolo, then director of the UP School of Fine Arts and 1976 National Artist for Sculpture Guillermo Tolentino, CDL was destined to hone her innate creative bents to perfection. In Book I of her three-part autobiographic book, Colors of My Life: Celia Diaz Laurel, The Painter published in 2014, she related how elated she was when she knew that she will be mentored by Amorsolo and Guillermo, and how frustrated she became when she learned that she will have to wait for a few more years to make that happen because the masters apparently only taught higher college levels. Personal conversations and encounters with these Philippine art titans can also be found and are immortalized in the same book. Aside from vital lessons on contrasting dark and light elements or chiaroscuro which is evident in her artworks, the UP School of Fine Arts, said Celia, has also taught her virtues of diligence and patience – values which are essential in her craft and life.

Drama Arts. In so little time, the Negros lass has literally won the UP community not only through her beauty (thus earning her the Sweetheart of Upsilon tag), but also by her admirable talents in poetry and long prose. Later, she would also join the UP Dramatic Club and Manila Community Players, an affliction for the performing arts which actually started while she was still in the Assumption Convent. From her first lead role as Lilay in Godofredo Burce Bunao’s Newer Years to her one-day notice Tia Consuelo role in Freddie Guerrero’s Forever and to the other lead roles she landed on or rather, landed on her, the theatre stage, aside from Doy Laurel’s heart, proved to be another territory she can rightfully claim.

Family and Art. Early marriage and motherhood did not however stop Celia from improving her craft. In the same interview by Nick Joaquin, Doy Laurel shared that a few months after their first-born Suzie was born, he went back to UP College of Law while “Celia was back in fine arts; she was very serious about her painting and she got excellent grades.” Her theatrical stretches, however has continued to impress National Artist for Theatre Ma. Wilfrido Guerrero. In fact, in her book, CDL revealed, “A week after the play closed [Newer Years], I had a surprise visit from Ma. Wilfrido Guerrero, who was not only a noted playwright and director, but was the head of the UP Dramatic Club.”

After receiving their college degrees in 1952, they headed to Yale University for their post-graduate studies on law for Doy and drama for Celia. Again, Yale Drama Theatre proved to be no unfamiliar terrain for CDL. Thus, aside from being a wife to Doy in their Connecticut apartment, CDL has also become a familiar name in the stage community when she portrayed Queen Gertrude in William Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Christine Manon in Eugene O’Neill’s Mourning Becomes Electra, to name a few.

Philippine Art and Theatre. After earning her post graduate Yale degree for Drama, it was time for CDL to come home to Philippine Theatre. She initially joined Dramatic Philippines but it was in Repertory Philippines where another opportunity to cross self-boundaries presented itself. Out of the 53 Repertory plays which she starred in like The Sound of Music, My Fair Lady, The Diary of Anne Frank, Fiddler on the Roof, The King And I, and Children of the Lesser God, etc., she also found her eligible spot in set and costume design. With her UP Fine Arts degree coupled with her innate passion for theatre, she manned the production design of 77 Repertory plays including Tennessee William’s The Rose Tattoo, Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Evita and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Coat, William Russel’s Educating Rita, and many others. To describe CDL’s brand of theatre work, current artistic director of Repertory Philippines’ Theater for Young Audiences, Joy Virata emphasized CDL’s natural eye for art and beauty and her entrepreneurial and financial skills as material for saving several Repertory plays. In the Manila Bulletin’s lifestyle article entitled "The shy Laurel," Jasmine Agnes T. Cruz and Noel B. Pabalate quoted Virata saying that CDL “did make silk purses out of sow’s ears…Her eye for color and texture was perfect. Working within a limited budget, she could make cheap material look like the finest of Victorian and Elizabethan gowns or a splendid cloak or the luxurious finery of an Arabian court. Her evening cloaks for the cagelles at Rep’s production of La Cage aux Folles have never been equaled. She devised ways to save time and money by the judicious use of her fabled glue gun and stapler. It could be said that sometimes close up the costumes looked miserable but viewed from the audience they were fabulous.”

Amusing Muse of Art. With a controversial Vice-President for a life partner, eight children, humanitarian projects, book authorships, and theatrical rigidities on and off stage, it is simply astonishing how CDL was able to juggle all these roles with excellence, grace and humility. This disposition, together with all her exemplar contributions, surely makes her the Philippines’ muse of arts and theatre – an accolade that she truly and befittingly deserves.

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

The Right To Get Angry

A little over a year after EDSA People Power restored democracy in our country, American journalist James Fallows of the Atlantic Monthly came out with a scathing article that shook Cory Aquino to the roots of her hair. “A Damage Culture,” as it turned out, talked about our culture—the Filipino culture. Very few agreed with Fallows’ sententious conclusion at that time. Very many posited the view that our manifold problems would be resolved, that the light at the end of the tunnel was in sight, and that the “damage” in our culture Fallows wrote so harshly about could, in time, be repaired.

That would have been understandable because for twenty years our nation was under Marcos’ thumb, and it would take time before we could uproot the evil and rid ourselves of the putrescence of the martial law years. Sure, Marcos did the country a lot of injustices. But blaming the Marcos regime alone, it would seem, was much too easy an answer. What made Marcos possible, what enabled him to hold on to power for so long, clearly proved Fallows’ point. The monumental problem in the Philippines, as Fallows would observe, was cultural and, in many ways, a preexisting condition even before martial law. He was dead right. Our problem stemmed from our “culture,” a unique culture that was shaped, molded, and in many ways, imposed upon us by our benevolent colonizers for centuries.

Listen to this: “The countries that surround the Philippines have become the world's most famous showcases for the impact of culture on economic development. Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Singapore--all are short on natural resources, but all (as their officials never stop telling you) have clawed their way up through hard study and hard work. Unfortunately for its people, the Philippines illustrates the contrary: that culture can make a naturally rich country poor. There may be more miserable places to live in East Asia-- Vietnam, Cambodia--but there are few others where the culture itself, rather than a communist political system, is the main barrier to development. The culture in question is Filipino, but it has been heavily shaped by nearly a hundred years of the "Fil-Am relationship.' The result is apparently the only non-communist society in East Asia in which the average living standard is going down.”

Every word Fallows has written about our culture rings true today. Nothing has changed except that our conditioned worsened. Sadly, the culture that Fallows says is damaged would in fact remain severely damaged more than two decades after.

Of the things Fallows wrote in his article, there’s this one paragraph that got me hooked from beginning to end, especially now that we are gearing up for the 2016 presidential elections. Again, listen to his words, and listen very carefully: “Most of the time I spent in the Philippines, I walked around feeling angry, angry at myself when I brushed off the latest platoon of child beggars, angry at the beggars when I did give in, angry at the rich Filipinos for living behind high walls and guardhouses in the fortified Makati compounds euphemistically called villages, angry as I picked my way around piles of human feces left by homeless families living near the Philippine Navy headquarters on Roxas Boulevard, angry at a society that had degenerated into a war of every man against every man.”

Now why would I feel like someone had just walloped my stomach after reading those searing words? If James Fallows, a visiting foreigner, can get angry over what is happening in our country decades ago, why can’t we? The late Teodoro “Teddyman” Benigno, in his poignant essay titled “Our Damaged Culture,” provides us with an answer: “This is what gets me, the Filipino’s infinite capacity for patience. We can never really get angry, it seems, even if there is everything to get angry about.” WHAM!

As election day approaches, we have all the right to get angry. We have all the right to say, fuck that establishment, damn all the sonouvabitches and dimwit politicians who tormented us for years, many years. If I were to believe the lessons of history, then something tells me about our revolutionary tradition, that we pride ourselves as a heroic people, and that our patience has limits when pushed to the edge of destruction.

What could be the core of our damaged culture? I think it is the fact that we refuse to look beyond ourselves, all we really care about is what happens to us and members of our families. Yes, we do in fact get angry sometimes, but only if our interest, our familial interest is at stake. We always tend to pull our punches, not wishing to offend the person or persons we are talking with, especially if that person is family. Ah, why would Binay support any anti-dynasty movement when Abi and Jun-jun can enjoy the perks of Makati City and the Congress? Why would he decide to back out of the presidential race (out of delicadeza and in view of the corruption allegations) and divest himself of the immunity he enjoys when losing in the elections means jail time for him? Why would Poe advise her close ally and San Miguel Corporation chief Danding Conjuangco to implement a no-ENDO and no labor-only contracting policies in all his business ventures when Danding majorly finances her campaign? Why would Santiago reveal her current health status when she actually has nothing lose? Why would Roxas admit the lapses of PNOY’s administrations in security, disaster response and overall economy when he himself was part of the government whose “daang matuwid” mantra failed many? Why would Roxas question Kris Aquino’s use of the presidential chopper as a blatant form of corruption when her celebrity status helps in his and running mate Leni Robredo’s campaign? Why would he care for the tanim-bala victims when they represent no significant number of the voting public? With all these questions, one remains in my mind and that is: If they wouldn’t, why would we?

I was told that in order to help others, we must help ourselves first. I cannot agree less. We certainly, to paraphrase the words of Senator Bongbong Marcos, cannot give what we do not have. But I guess, it becomes very different when our actions are imbued with national interest because the moment we start looking beyond ourselves rather than pursuing our own motives to the detriment of our county, then that could be a good start to call ourselves a community—a nation. That is the struggle and it is real.

But yes, come to think of it, when our ancestors cried out for independence from Spain, it took them 300 long years to do so. When we shouted “Tama na, palitan na!” during the Martial Law, Marcos was already in position for 20 years. We were probably too patient. Or too forgiving, perhaps? Well, masochism is a sign of psychological imbalance. If we want change, a nation cannot be so forgiving or too patient. Oh, I’m probably thinking out too loud.

But really, once again, as we prepare for the coming elections, the citizenry is lured to believe that all that truly matters is continuity of leadership, and by “continuity” I mean, that the reins of power would remain firmly in the hands of the privileged few. But for many disillusioned citizens who are sick and tired of traditional politics, disgruntled Filipinos fed up with corruption at all levels of our society, the 2016 presidential elections could be their seething cauldron of outrage against the establishment. And somehow as our awakened people gaze on the political horizon, they can see just one man, one dogged man with the wills of steel, whose courage to propel the ship of state away from “imperialistic Manila” is almost certain. That man is Mayor Rodrigo Duterte.

May our angry and awakened tribe increase!

Saturday, March 5, 2016

Jottings on Jejomar Binay

Lest we all be fooled into thinking that the 2016 presidential election is a revolution to end all revolutions, let’s take a peek at the candidates aspiring for the nation’s highest post. Who are they? What kind of leadership will they bring to the presidency? If elected, will they really make a difference?

I’m the eternal cynic, I suppose. But I have argued long and loud that with the present crop of candidates, all that will really change, it seems, is the façade nothing more, nothing less. Sorry to say, none of the contenders fits my description of an avenging hawk in midflight, out to swoop and redress popular grievances. Lo, the game is on and the Golden Fleece is really up for grabs. Come one, come all, if you have the money. Come one, come everybody if you’ve got the popularity. That is the tragedy of Philippine politics—heavy on rhetoric, weak in ideology and vision.

Let us not jump into conclusions though because no matter what happens, a choice has to be made, and a president needs to be elected. After all, I am told, this is what democracy is all about.

Let’s start with Vice President Jejomar Binay. In retrospect, Binay’s career in politics started out with a promise. A street parliamentarian and a human rights lawyer during Martial Law, Binay became mayor of the country’s financial capital when democracy was reclaimed in 1986. At first he was just an OIC mayor of Makati City, but Binay grabbed the opportunity by the forelock and defeated his opponents in the first local elections held under the Cory government. Binay was on the road since.

Among the 2016 presidentiables, Binay appears to be a stand out in terms of dogged determination. He makes no bones about the fact that he covet the presidency more than anything else. The quirks of fate, however, turned against him when graft and corruption cases surfaced last year. As a result, a couple of other plunder cases that are now pending with the Ombudsman were unearthed as well. The charges are formidable. Even for the firm believer, this is rich, riveting headline stuff. But Binay denies the charges, denies having anything to do with P2.2-billion Makati City Hall parking building project, and denies having ill-gotten wealth – all this and more, much more. Win or lose, guilty or not, the accusations would continue to be a sword of Damocles on Binay’s head.

Jojo Binay belongs to a legion of Filipino traditional politicians whose biggest sin is political dynasty. It is of public knowledge that aside from Vice President Binay, he has relatives in government service, and they are no less than his direct family members. His son Junjun is presently the suspended City Mayor of Makati City, his eldest daughter Nancy is also a Senator of the Republic, and Abigail, his lawyer daughter, is a member of the House of Representatives representing one of the legislative districts of Makati City. To complete the list, the matriarch too once held the mayoralty post back in 1998 -2001 when Binay could not run for mayor because of the three-year rule prohibition.

In a defensive mode, Binay, in one of the academic fora he attended said, “Political dynasties do not cause poverty. Poverty is caused by poor leadership,” Oh, the shivers. How can politicians like him behave thusly? How can we allow them to do so?

Political dynasty is a major ailment for politicians in this country. In truth, it is designed to keep the elite in power, an elite which refuses to wipe out poverty. All serious political scientists and scholars of Philippine history, I believe, agree on this point. Oh yes, grinding poverty is the bottomless well from which the Binays and their ilk draw their vigor and sustenance like the toil of Sisyphus. Very obviously, Binay’s “socialist programs” in Makati on health, education, benefits for senior citizens, local government attention to wakes and funeral expenses to name a few, are nothing more but a pittance. Now we are repeatedly told that if Binay wins he would certainly translate his socialist policies into the national level—“Ganito Kami sa Makati, Sana Ganito Rin sa Pilipinas.” And here’s another one for the books: Makati Ngayon, Pilipinas Bukas. Voila, indeed! In essence, Binay’s campaign slogan today is no different from 2010 when he ran for vice president alongside Erap Estrada, another populist dimwit of yore. But as Goebbels said, falsehood repeated many times become the truth. For the life of me, let us not allow Binay’s vaudeville illusion to blur reality.

I find it quite odd for a presidential hopeful to never have wailed at corruption the way a cat caterwauls when pregnant. But nevertheless, I’ll tell you why. Here goes. In his 2010 book “Presidentiables and Emerging Upheavals,” former opposition leader Homobono “Bono” Adaza vividly recounted a conversation between him and Jojo Binay. This happened long time ago, presumably during Binay’s heyday as a lawyer-activist. Asked candidly how he intends to eliminate graft and corruption in the country, the young Binay supposedly answered: “Bono, there is no way you can eliminate graft and corruption under the present system. It is inevitable because of daily demands of people for help in terms of medicines, burial expenses system, tuition fees, travel and what have you.” Need I say more? That was Jojo Binay for you, ever the pragmatist who stuck to his guns whatever the cost.

This brings us to the question: What happened to our human rights defender who fought dictatorship side by side with the likes of Jose W. Diokno and Lorenzo Tanada? I really don’t know. Maybe Cory Aquino’s “Rambotito” quaffed one too many from the jug of power and got inebriated. Oh, power! What d'you do to people Nuff said.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Too Bad, My Miriam Is Not Forever

The political ashfall thickens and we are looking for a savior, but none so far is on the horizon.

It was supposed to be a night like no other night for Miriam Defensor Santiago (MDS), the night she was to immerse above all the other presidential aspirants. Like millions of Filipinos on that day, I too sat in wide-eyed lumps before my television set hoping to watch, who, among them could draw Excalibur faster from its scabbard than Miriam Defensor Santiago can. Or so I thought. Or so I remembered. As all have witnessed, last Sunday’s performance was MDS record low.

As an aficionado, I was pained to watch her riposte even the simplest questions which she could have easily waded off during her healthier years. In so many occasions, her voice was weak, with little hoarseness in it. I felt her words exiting in crutches which naturally force a look-see of her faltering health. Ah, if only this were 1992, young MDS could have walloped them with her sharp and staccato delivery, with her wit that cuts through and through that could hit right at little Grace's messianic jugular.

Unfortunately, MDS could not turn the political clock back. The “Miriam Phenomenon” that had once mesmerized a groping nation is all in the past now and all she needs now is a miracle, a major miracle, not only to get back to the days when she was in tip-top shape to mount a nationwide campaign, but also to run the government, in case.

True that there is no law that disqualifies a candidate for public office on the sole reason of health, and here in MDS’ case, to have been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer but MDS’ medical condition calls for a deeper concern –that which puts the country at great risk. If a candidate with serious health issues gets elected as president and eventually fell ill to the point that he/she can no longer effectively carry out the functions of the office, what is there to do? Well, if the president’s health fails, the Constitution mandates that the system can fall back on the “spare tire,” the vice president. The dilemma actually lies not in the eventual deterioration or demise of the president but of the kind of “spare tire” we have. What happens when the vice president is not exactly what you would want for president?

A concerned citizen once demanded MDS to publicly disclose her medical records which could have been her opportunity to dispel any doubts about her illness. And yet to this day, MDS refuses to take the challenge head on. Instead, she reiterated her claim that she is completely free from cancer and that she is well within her rights not to disclose her medical records for this would violate her right to privacy. She is a renowned constitutionalist alright, but I beg to disagree. I submit, however, that a citizen running for public office, especially a presidential aspirant of her stature, cannot hide behind the permissible ‘zones of privacy’ when grave health issues are concerned. Necessarily, when a person offers himself before the electorate as a candidate, everything that concerns his fitness to govern, whether moral, physical or mental, becomes a matter of public interest. In any case, as lawyers would say, MDS is deemed to have waived her right to privacy since day one.

Culled from the Marcos experience, a unique provision under the 1987 Constitution explains the dynamics of governance during a president’s illness. The Constitution says: “In case of serious illness of the President, the public shall be informed of the state of his health. The members of the Cabinet in charge of national security and foreign relations and the Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines, shall not be denied access to the President during such illness."

Now, if this provision ought to solve the danger of a power vacuum in the executive department during a president’s illness, the more reason we must apply the principle of transparency for future presidents, MDS included. Indeed, by safeguarding the health of potential presidents early on, a foreseeable crisis can be avoided or at the very least, tempered. Of course, MDS is not yet president, but we do worry about her health.

To my idol, there is a time to fight, Ma’am Miriam, and a time to sheath back your sword for you and your country’s sake. Maybe, now is the right time to do the latter. In your 2014 best-selling book Stupid is Forever, you said: I feel like I am going, and soon. Just call me the disappearing senator. Again, I beg to disagree. Aborting the presidential mission at this point may preserve much of the MDS’ that we know.

For a warrior like MDS, that's a tough decision. So we watch.