No Neutral Ground

by Alvin Clyde O. Gregorio

Neoliberalism, Harvey-style

Perhaps, David Harvey’s great contribution to political science, in his book, A Brief History in Neoliberalism, is his contention that in this world, there are no trivial concepts, nor do neutral spaces exist.

Apparently for him, all state decisions – may they be radical changes, or shifts which eventuate into mere incremental political erosions – are for a purpose; and that sometimes, fortunately or unfortunately, the perceived ends of opportunistic countries are sugarcoated with (the) universally-appealing notions of democracy, individual justice, and freedom.

Therefore, to the unthinking, undiscerning political observer, the world is pictured as a haven for freedom, a utopia where the state’s behavior is regulated by the collective yearnings of the citizenry; its general thrust geared towards attaining the most ideal state – citizen-centered, and insulated from exterior, ulterior motives.

But Harvey exposes this dismissive fatalism and questions: Are there really neutral concepts?

Harvey goes the extra mile and in fact asserts that these widely accepted values – freedom, democracy, justice – are relative concepts, such that several countries, especially those who nurture hegemonic ideals and are out to subjugate the rest of the world, skew the innate ambiguity of these values, and forward their own interpretation of these celebrated attributes to secure their place in the world order – to concretize their hold on international politics and sustain their unhampered perpetuation in the global set-up, under all circumstances and beyond any condition.

He moreover adds that the threat of subjugation, either in its directly perceivable form or through its altered and/or newly-constructed variety, is sometimes heralded as eventual emancipation that every self-respecting government ought to nurture, in its quest for reinforcing sound governance.

But Harvey stretches this analysis further, and he inevitably asks: But whose freedom is the state fighting for?

Freedom, after all, is a dubious concept – however, owing to its liberal undertones, and the democratic implications for utilizing this oft-abused concept, people have the natural tendency to mistake freedom for farce substitutes to its real and genuine thrust. And this manipulative encroachment can best be seen in the US aggression against Iraq after the September 11 terrorist attacks.

The United States of America, invoking its supposed moral ascendancy in the aftermath of that unfortunate incident, waved the flag of freedom and rallied the people behind its rhetoric of establishing a free world – and it is this assumed leadership which justified their sudden invasion of Iraq, promising freedom to the Iraqi people and vowing to break the shackles of despotism that, they claimed, was characteristic of Saddam Hussein’s reign of terror in that desolate Middle Eastern country.

However, let’s see how this supposed ‘freedom’ was eventually articulated, and examine if indeed, the world’s only superpower was, and still is, within bounds in the course of its unilateral and arbitrary administration of international justice.

It is ironic and glaringly suspicious to note that presently, Iraq is gradually transforming into a Western-constructed democracy – Western-constructed mind you, because we see that right after the Americans were successful in neutralizing the resistance efforts of Hussein, it proceeded to partitioning the country into several lethargic compartments, opening up its rich oil markets to foreign exploitation, because, Bush claims, this is where individual freedom of Iraqis lie: in the liberation of the market and the insulation of the same from direct state maneuverings.

Bear in mind that once Iraq exhibited the minutest semblance of order since the start of the invasion, Bush’s war architects almost instantaneously proposed that they secure the oil rigs and consolidate their hold over the major oil sites in Iraq – and observers then speculated that this move was strategically meant to quell the insuppressible packets of protestations that erupted back in the US, and to silence those who constantly asked: Who is to pay for all the expenses incurred in the war?

Right at the onset, we see two glaring incongruencies within the framework of the Bush plan, relative to their supposed moral high ground, their supposed justification for assuming the role of global police.

First is the establishment of the link between market and individual freedom, no matter how far-fetched and overstretched the link may initially impress, and thus the fiscalization of individual emancipation; and second, is the institutionalization of foreign exploitation over these domestic industries, by virtue of deceptive and to a certain extent, coercive, market trade-offs and the subjugation of local self-determinative initiatives to the whims of the invading, arrogant Western power.

Harvey pounces on this blatant perversion of freedom, and inevitably makes us think: If freedom, a ubiquitously-accepted ideal, can be thwarted for selfish motives, what value then, is safe from being co-opted by these opportunistic elements?

Apparently for Harvey, and to a large extent I agree with him, there is none.

Moreover, his book unearths several myths and exposes a number of orchestrated lies about the sincerity of democracy, as peddled by American strategists. He specifically and extensively discusses the foreign policy of the US and demarcates, quite successfully, the fine line separating the established rationale of American foreign policy – which is hinged on expediency really, realistic and practical spoils, and self-serving motives – and its superficial exterior, a carefully-constructed façade which trumpets its unwavering commitment to maintaining international democracy and worldwide solidarity.

To drive home this point, Harvey ticks off the shared experiences of several countries which were led to this path, and he moreover asserts that these conditional similarities did not just happen out of mere sporadic coincidences, because fact was, and presumably still is, they were thoroughly planned out even before they materialized.

This provides for a perfect segue to my attempt at localizing the neoliberal experience in our country; an alternative historical analysis of how, during the Martial Law years, we were embroiled in the neoliberal encroachment that was spreading like wildfire across the world, unhampered and unregulated.

Neoliberalism, Pinoy-style

Ferdinand Marcos, during the dark ages of his military rule, was a ruthless dictator. Together with his wife in their so-called conjugal dictatorship, they bled the national coffers dry with their lavish and flamboyant lifestyle, their shared penchant for plunder and kleptocratic practices beyond comprehension, and their unregulated political power and clout which, to an obvious extent, they used to exact revenge over the opposing forces to their Bagong Lipunan.

More than these perceived excesses of state power, it was during his ‘reign of terror’ that several dissenters to his arbitrary impositions were gagged and silenced in dark and cold solitary rooms, their human rights trampled upon because they chose to defy the dominating powers, because they opted to resist the devil who was lurking underneath the veil of a strongman, a draconian leader who justified his every abuse with the promise of instilling discipline to a society that was, according to Martial Law-peddlers, in shambles.

However, in the course of reconstructing Philippine society in accordance with the newly-propagated values of his Bagong Lipunan , Marcos made the bold move of suspending individual freedom in the hopes of, quite ironically, upholding social and societal freedom. This, naturally and metaphorically, opened the floodgates of hell and solidified his position as a strongman who was neither checked nor regulated in his executive discretions. And as can be predicted, this ushered in an era of oppression and suppression unparalleled in history, widespread corruption and institutionalized nepotism, and the normalization of abuse in the collective sensibilities of the Filipino people.

Predictably, this resulted to social foment among the ranks of Filipinos who were, in an instant, roused from apathy – they questioned the legitimacy of the military regime and demanded that the democratic mechanisms for checks and balances be reinstated to mitigate the propensity of the dictator for sustaining his atrocious rule – and, in the midst of desperation and desperate times, they collectively cried out: Where was the international beacon of democracy, the US, when it was most needed?

It is quite ironic to point out that while the Filipino populace was seething with rage over Marcos’ fascist rule, he was widely celebrated in the United States as an indispensable agent for democracy in Asia; as his constituents were mired in deep squalor, consumed with anguish, and barely maintaining their fragile sanity, he was hailed as the champion for freedom, by President Ronald Reagan no less.

He, after all, enjoyed steady American support throughout most of his tenure – and to some commentators, this may have been the reason why his dominion over the country was sustained and assured for nearly three decades. The American penchant for deodorizing inhumane regimes provided for legitimacy to his dwindling charisma as a leader –

But it does not commence here, for the crucial question thus becomes: why the unflinching support for someone who clearly bastardized democracy?

Bear in mind that during Marcos’ rule, the battle between communism and democracy was still raging – and considering the desperation of America to secure its victory in third-world democracies, it turned a blind eye each time Marcos committed a crime against his people, for in weighing the trade-off that ensued after these instances of unhindered executive excesses were complacently allowed to happen, this obviously translated into Marcos’ unconditional support to, and unquestioning subservience towards, the American democratic propaganda.

As they coddled Marcos and prodded him on to keep up with his flamboyant ways, there came a point when the institutionalized misprioritisation of the national budget, compounded by the apparent lack of a viable government direction to jumpstart the local economy, compelled Marcos to borrow heavily from supranational entities just to augment the deficits that he incurred, and to sustain his and his family’s extensive philandering of hard-earned taxpayers’ money.

Moreover, owing to his blind submission to the whims and caprices of the United States of America, it was during his time that the influx of foreign, mostly American, investors were encouraged – spelling doom and death to local industries that were still in their infancy years, unable to battle it out in a playing field that was virtually leveled out to accommodate foreign intrusion and interference.

In an instant, we invariably pose the question: What has become of the core value of freedom?

Conclusion

The Philippine neoliberal experience, its intricacies and inherent contradictions notwithstanding, has revealed to us first-hand how the expedient foreign policy of the world’s sole superpower, the United States of America, places more premium on what can be gained than what can be attained.

Because by invoking a legitimacy that is couched on moral soundness and an appeal to what is universally noble and ideal, it can get away with its exploits.

But let us break free from complacency and see the world according to its real characterization – because in essence, there are no neutral concepts – only temporary deceptions, juxtaposed with permanent interests.

i have this particularly annoying teacher this semester who has a penchant for glorifying himself in terms of teaching style and method, and proudly asserts that we ought to differentiate him from the rest of the pack because, he says, he not only imparts knowledge, but he imbues these learnings with the school’s thrust — which is the incorporation of the ‘gospel’ in classroom discussions.

with his distinct and thick waray accent, he starts the class each time with the same spiel: ‘ibahin nyo ako, ibahin nyo ako, meron akong record‘ — then he proceeds to checking the attendance — in 30 frigging minutes mind you — because he likes to interject, every so often, and brandish his so-called ‘distinct’ teaching style.

at first, i was intrigued and amused, and i entertained the idea that perhaps, he was different — that he was unlike the unthinking, incompetent kind.

but soon enough, i found out that indeed, he was different from the rest — fact is, he is worse.

for two weeks, we had to dissect the vision-mission of the university, discuss it in detail for four meetings, each having an hour and thirty minutes for every session — and it was just so, so boring — not to mention irrelevant and a total waste of time.

don’t get me wrong, i agree with the rationale of incorporating the school’s general thrust in the course of individualised learning, but having to skim through the entire document, and meticulously dissecting each phrase and sentence?

that’s verging on obsessive-compulsiveness on the part of the teacher on the one hand, or it could mean he was just too damn lazy to jumpstart the semester with pertinent and relevant lessons, on the other. tsk tsk.

to my recollection, there never was a single classroom discussion where he shared the latest nor the most apt technique in deconstructing and reanalyzing complicated stories. he merely blabbers for hours on end about how the generation now has forgotten the values of the time past, or how we, his students, ought to respect him for three reasons: his being our titser, his being matanda, and his being propesyunal.

naturally, in my head, i have already conjured of a hundred ways of reconstructing einstein’s relativity theory, or plot out the assumed location of emilia earheart in the bermuda triangle.

but it gets worse — because this time, he wants us to shell out twenty pesos and buy any item from the tabo (a superficial endeavor for fostering genuine appreciation to our own wika, if you were to ask me), and eat the entire thing in front of him.

first level of rebuttal: since when were teachers (college teachers, mind you) empowered to dictate how our school allowance will be spent? sure, twenty pesos is twenty pesos, but we need to look beyond the monetary aspect and uncover the arbitariness of the imposition — does he really have the right to demand that his students buy puto and cuchinta and nibble them down in front of him?

second level of rebuttal: how does this exercise facilitate and foster a genuine appreciation for the national language? this, in itself, is a pathetic excuse for genuine education, and it is this juvenile approach, plus a mindset which prods him on because he thinks of himself as a demigod in the classroom, which is the reason why genuine learning is stifled, and students are shortchanged in terms of getting what they rightfully deserve.

‘ibahin nyo ako, ibahin nyo ako.’

sir, iba ka nga.

perhaps, when things seem too good to be true, and when the stars deceptively conspire to make you believe that you have so much brilliance in you, there is something that lurks within the periphery: a rupture that is inconspicuously veiled underneath the promise of sudden prominence.

last august 4, 2008, i celebrated my yearlong marriage to debating — and it was both mind-blowing and exhilarating, celebratory but mournful, and beautiful yet incomplete.

i understood the decision of the judges; that we were only second best in that round — but deep within the recesses of my heart, i feel the trappings of a man that has been, in an instant, broken.

but i don’t argue against this natural impluse, for my justification is simple: how can one temper the proddings of despair from a solitary heart?

it needs to be ruptured, brutally if need be, because it is this unguarded and uninhibited admission that will lead to genuine recuperation.

it was a bittersweet moment — a disconcerting experience that has broken me to the complexities of the human emotions, and the uncertainty of the stars.

i am happy and sad; gratified yet unsatisfied;

complete, however broken.

*written onboard the ferry to bacolod, just as the strong waves against the helpless vessel were fanning the sadness that was brewing inside.

we live in a dog-eat-dog world — a savage land deceptively hidden beneath the exterior of a pleasant world. but sometimes, owing to the superficiality of this consensually-constructed facade, the surface gets ruptured, as glimpses of the truth betray the discomforting truth that we live in a land where neither civility nor respect for human dignity abound — for what we merely have is a semblance of order, an attempt at tempering man’s incivility by willed and orchestrated optimism.

this morning, i received a text message from paul, a forwarded message from an NGO worker who was scouring for moral and financial support to the most recent victim of child abuse in our province — a four year old girl who was, after being raped by a still unidentified man, thrown off a cliff and was left to die.

she however, managed to survive, and after wandering for six days in the forest with neither food nor water to sustain her, she was seen by locals who took her to the hospital to have her treated. reunited with her parents, she is presently in the negros oriental provincial hospital where she is being diagnosed for post-abuse trauma, that is, after she had undergone rectal vaginal repair in the fourth degree.

worse, her wounds, because they were untreated, had maggots and she would be needing a special kind of medicine which will prevent the infection from spreading to other parts of her body.

in an instant, text messages were sent and resent, asking sympathetic hearts for any kind of donation or support that they may extend to the young girl who was, in an instant, robbed of her innocence and was viciously abused. a budding life that was ripped just as it had started to open up to the world.

to anyone willing, let us help her. let us make her feel that amid the proliferation of evil in this world, there are those who still care; there are still those who have hearts that throb; deeds that are selfless; and kindred souls who will continue to resist evil and reinstate goodness in a desolate world that is ours.

most people who do not know me that intimately often get surprised when they see me drunk — when I hold a bottle of liquor with my one hand, a cigarette on the other, and a silly smile is painted on my face.

they wonder, and in amazement at that, why I don’t spend the rest of my time in the library to scour the circulation section for contemporary sociological criticisms to structural functionalism. or hang out perhaps with the rest of the geeks, as we would chatter endlessly about the star wars epic, and bask in our exclusivist but shared affinity to foucault or some other renowned thinker.

my personal take on this constructed dichotomization of identity is simple: i refuse to submit to convention. society, after all, is the reason why people think this way – it’s either you’re witty and a loser, or an airhead but a tanduay marathon varsity.

giving in to societal standards, for me, is similar to allowing yourself to be carried away by the multitudes of people who impose upon you, no matter how subtle it seems, your own identity. and some of us, owing to our constant exposure to these accepted standards and the ubiquitousness of these established prototypes for categorizing people, do not question why society is constructed the way it is.

we inevitably surrender our individual perception to accommodate the imposing and intrusive interference of societal persuasions – thereby impairing our own capacity for free-thinking and personal judgment in the process.

i’m just trying to rationalize really, so help me here. lol

admittedly I am a geek, but my tendencies are, thank goodness, tempered by my other exploits.

because if a self-confessed geek would stay secluded in his dark and cold basement room and read up on geeky stuff, shun daylight because it exposes his face and makes him an easy prey for ridicule, and adeptly masters the art of being anti social, then that would so cliché.

society, with all its upheavals and in its steady progression, has inevitably configured the necessary conditions to facilitate the emergence of a new breed of people: the modern geeks. Hahaha! J

my words have escaped me, and i can do nothing but wait for them to come back. i’ve tried once, before, to feign my writing even when my mind was consumed with nothingness. it has been a drought for the past week or so, and i just hope that sometime soon, i will once again come up with a decent piece here.

perhaps, it is because my procrastination has gnawed at my faculties, and i am left with an unthinking mind, and an unfeeling heart.

these times are most confusing, and unsettling — because these are the moments when i question who i really am. am i or am i not?

tsk.

boredom sure does wonders.

i don’t normally forward emails that i get, nor repost them for everyone else’s reading consumption, but i have to this time.

as i was checking my email for interesting forwarded messages, i came across this email sent by a good friend from UP.

and, i must admit, nostalgia quickly seeped in as i was again reminded of my UP days — as i tiptoed around the responsibilities that were, in an instant, given to me, as i explored the vastness of the world and of ideas, and as i made sure that while i was thrust into an unfamiliar but nonetheless captivating terrain, i still guarded my life principles, my convictions, and my worldview with utmost care.

it’s nostalgic bliss — something that i needed after all that i’ve been through these past few days. i hope you find it as interesting as i did

There are no children here

This week, I went to a meeting at the UP School of Economics and I came
away with renewed belief in the value of the UP experience.

If you speak to anyone from UP – student, professor, alumnus - you will get
no Latin slogans or apologies about how the school teaches values in spite
of its outward materialism. This is not a student population that thinks
about basketball games or memorizes school songs. This is not a school that
chooses one statement to drill into the minds of its students.

This is not, of course, to say that UP does not care about values. It is
that UP, in its own inimitable way, believes that values cannot be
force-fed. The statue of the naked man that guards the entrance to the
campus in Diliman best represents UP’s approach to all education and the
respect for students that is the center of its educational philosophy. All
who come to this university, regardless of origin, bring themselves naked,
carrying nothing but their thirst; like the proverbial empty teacup, making
an offering of self, waiting to be filled.

*Adults*

For many students from private schools, the first lesson that is learned
here is that this is a school for adult education. There are no children
here, and that is why no parents are allowed either at freshman orientation
or during enlistment.

The spirit of the oblation lies not in a mother or a father offering up his
child to the world, it is that of the newly adult, freely offering of his
self.

I remember quite vividly that moment that drove home how different the UP
education continues to be. It was my daughter’s first semester in
university and she had invited a group of her high school friends to our
house. One of them asked a classmate whether she had gotten her parents
permission form approved for that weekend’s outreach activity. From the UP
population around the table came the mock horrified responses of:
“Permission? ” and “Outreach?”

I thought about it and realized that all of these students were, in fact,
legally adults. I thought it interesting that only the UP students appeared
to appreciate this fact.

Even more interesting was the “outreach” comment. I think back to my own
university years and the last three years that my daughter has been in UP
and am certain there is no lack of civic activity. There are medical
missions, house building projects, tree planting, community work and barrio
work and so on. I realize now that the reaction was not to the activity as
much as it was to the use of the word.

One of the most important differences of the UP campus from all the other
campuses my children considered going to is that this campus has no walls.
Many parents fear this. They are afraid their precious children will not be
protected from the ills of society in a campus that is so open to the rest
of the world.

But UP is open to the world in more ways than just not having the physical
walls.

*Community *

Being in UP means much more than being a student. This campus is enmeshed
in a community. This community is made up not only of the transient
population of students who go home each night. It includes the many, many
students who lay their heads on dorm pillows each night, enduring time away
from families in the firm belief that this campus will bring them closer to
their dreams. This community includes the families of faculty and employees
who live on campus. It also includes the many people who work not for the
University, but nevertheless work on campus. This community includes the
lady who remembers the brand of cigarette you smoke and automatically hands
it to you in the morning. It includes the gentleman who remembers you like
pepper on your egg sandwich or the one who knows you will dip your fish
balls into two of his sauces, who patiently waits for you to eat your three
sticks before being paid. It includes the woman who saw all her children
through college by selling peanuts every day on campus.

To a UP student, the daily heartbeat of the school is never far away from
the realities of the country. The word outreach suggests that civic
activity is something outside of the normal, something you do once in a
while. It must be immensely difficult to think of community as a thing
apart when your campus experience brings you face to face with all of the
world’s realities every day.

*Character*

All of this probably explains that unmistakable sense of self that you will
find from students who come from this campus.

Here is a campus where all have the same opportunities to learn. But,
also, here is a campus that will give all the same opportunities to fail.
There are no guidance counselors who will chase after you because you have
been skipping classes. The attitude this university takes is that you must
take the initiative – for learning, for seeking help, for realizing you need
help.

That is not to say that no help exists. But it is help that is not forced
upon you.

This is a university rich in both introspection and conversation. On this
campus, the student is constantly exposed to people – faculty,
administrators, community members, other students – who care deeply and
passionately about the world. The conversations are almost never purely
cerebral. A single graph can provoke comments about government policy and
its effects on people.

As a result, UP is home to a student population that looks at the world and
cares. It is easy to see pictures of protesting students and dismiss it as
radicalism. But there are few campuses in this country where students go
beyond a passing curiosity about what is happening in the world beyond their
own lives. There are even fewer universities where students not only care
but also actually believe they have a responsibility to make a difference –
not in some hazy future – today.

And that, I believe, is what truly forges character. Character is not
molded by speeches or long classes in ethics or theology. Character grows
from within. It begins by being handed the keys to your own self and being
told you are in charge; you now have power over yourself and your own
actions – and with that power, you take on responsibilities.

Each student in this university goes through his own unique voyage of
discovery. On his voyage, as he decides what he cares about, what he will
fight for and what he will sacrifice, he crafts his own personal values.
That is what education is truly about.

What Socialism?

A considerable number of jubilant electricity-consumers welcomed the sudden intervention of the government, via the GSIS, in the staggering electricity costs in Metro Manila.

GSIS President Winston Garcia was seen as the timely knight-in-shining armor to the multitudes of urban dwellers who were clamoring for emancipation from the overburdening price of electricity in imperial Manila.

For some, owing to the visible hand of President GMA herself in this quest, it was a relief to see that amid the proliferation of political squabbles, and the gloomy economic prospects for the country, the government is still imbued with a noble virtue – that it’s zeal of honest and citizen-centered governance still manifested in its attempt to wrestle power from an affluent economic and political family, even if it translated into an open war against the Lopezes, a formidable opponent even to the government.

Even, there are those who see this exercise as a complete turnaround of government policy, or that it heralds the systematic restructuring of specific entities, as the government now sees the long-needed socialist facelift to private corporations that have, for decades, reigned with impunity, unchecked and all-powerful altogether.

Could socialist persuasion have been the reason for this government encroachment?

According to Amando Doronila, this is not necessarily the case since, he opines, this is merely a blatant use of state fascist power to keep the Lopezes in their toes, and arrogantly impose the unbridled power of GMA and her cohorts over the former.

He moreover notes his observation that the President, poisoned with the prospect of exacting revenge over their family’s long-time nemesis, is poised to play all the cards up her sleeve, even if it means unleashing the standing bureaucracy to achieve this end.

A valid observation, if you were to ask me.

But let us try to stretch his analysis further, and uncover several other myths that this controversy has inevitably spawned for several sectors.

In order for a government to be truly legitimate in owning up to its socialist orientation, there exists an indispensable requisite: it should comprehensively enforce socialism in all significant facets in the course of its governance.

Question therefore, do we see this in the present thrusts and advocacies of the government?

If one were to examine closely the programs of the existing administration, do they indicate that the government has adopted policies which try to veer away from neoliberal practices? Or have they become instrumental in further institutionalizing neoliberalism in the political sensibilities of the nation?

President GMA, a publicly-renowned economist, throughout her tenure, has been generally supportive of globalization-centered agreements – acceding, and quite consistently if I may add, to the hegemonic powers of the World Trade Organization (WTO), the G8 stipulations, and even to the self-serving economic policies of the world’s only superpower, the United States of America.

Even if she deceptively assured the public that these steps successfully ensured that the nation will not be left behind by the benefits of a globalized world order, its real and damning still manifested: the furtherance of marginalization to local industries and the continued proliferation of foreign dominance over our markets and policies, and subsumed under this second effect, is the sustained subjugation of domestic political will to the whims of the hegemonic powers.

The health and education sectors moreover, during her administration, also registered tangible measures for neoliberalist encroachment.

For one, it was during GMA’s administration that the government drafted a health industry program that was geared towards luring foreign and capitalist investments, by means of adopting a medical tourism-centered thrust. With this, the government has virtually forged an alliance with multinational corporations that were to facilitate this unholy alliance of the state and the private sector – even when, in reality, this conceals the unfortunate state of public health services of the government.

More damning, the government’s priorities can be seen at how it appropriates the national budget in the course of its administration of the public funds. I remember writing, when I was still part of the writing pool of the school paper, this staggering reality:

“The crux of appropriating the country’s limited resources is exacerbated by the underhanded misprioritization of government as emphasized by its huge allocations to its debt servicing commitments, and its unreasonable appropriation [to/for] the country’s national defense capabilities. Combined, both sectors take up 117.5 billion of the 1.053 trillion budget for 2006, whereas the health sector is compensated with mere scraps of 11.7 billion. This would mean that while the government spends heavily on these less important sectors, its budget for the 76 million Filipinos is barely 8 pesos per person.”

GMA’s administration also holds the worst record in ensuring free and competent public education nationwide, for it was in her tenure that schools were unregulated in systematically raising tuition fees, and other similar financially-restrictive measures to economically-unprivileged students. It was during her tenure for example, to concretize this point, that the premier and most prestigious state university in the country, the University of the Philippines, raised its tuition cost by more than 300%, owing to budget cuts – even compelling school administrators to form skewed partnerships with MNCs such as call center establishments (the Western world’s most effective tool for intruding into the thriving cultures of vulnerable states), just to augment the deficits that it incurred.

What then, one is tempted to ask, is in store for Isko and Iska?

These obvious strains of neoliberalist bias also holds true to most of the sectors in society as dictated and guided by government policy and intuition.

Where then, does the justification for treading a socialist path get into the picture?

Clearly, there is no comprehensive program for reconstructing the ideological alignment of the government as a whole; what we merely have is a selective government policy which isolates certain entities with the rhetoric of socialist claims, whereas other equally-important sectors are left to decide for themselves, undeterred in their ventures, even when they further embolden the economic and social cleavages that further polarize the nation.

Let us now try, in attempting to relate this ruckus with the learnings in class, to localize the problem, and contextualize the claims of the government (as regards this intervention) vis-à-vis its more believable motivations.

Gloria says the nation needs to be emancipated from spiraling electricity costs, subsuming the rhetoric of individual freedom with this claim. At last, we will be free. At last, liberty is within reach – and at last, the government has done its part in ensuring that democracy will prevail.

A sound contention at first glance, but upon closer inspection, does this really embody the naked truth?

If there was one person who needed freedom before the GSIS issue erupted, it would be no other than the President herself, with her administration (before the brouhaha), wracked by successive corruption exposés, bureaucratic ineptitude not yet seen in decades, indignant calls for her resignation from all sectors imaginable, and a legitimacy that was widely questioned and to a certain extent, challenged.

By rallying the people behind a seemingly worthwhile cause, which is their eventual freedom from the shackles of monopolistic and dehumanizing exploitation from money-hunger private corporations, she sought a transformation of her image: from being a wretched despot into the personification of everything noble and virtuous, from being the oppressor of the masses into becoming their sole source of comfort, because she sympathizes, she feels their agony.

Her formidable record in public deception has served her well, for after the GSIS controversy, the nation momentarily forgot about Jun Lozada and his personal crusade, and either voiced support for, or spitefully condemned, Winston Garcia. Compounded with the penchant of Filipinos for easily forgetting the wrongdoings of their leaders, this translated into GMA’s momentary freedom from the courts of public opinion, and her adeptly-orchestrated emancipation from the watchful gaze of a vigilant public.

Another observable feature of a genuinely-functioning socialist order is the empowerment of nationalized industries.

If, lets theorize, GMA became successful in her quest for converting Meralco into a public entity, would this have translated into lower electricity costs? Or a better-streamlined corporation perhaps which would shun corporate gluttony?

To an observable extent, this one-time government interference runs ironically against the generally-adopted capitalist alignment that the government has espoused through the series of privatization efforts that it spearheaded in crucial public establishments such the Philippine National Oil Company (PNOC), and the National Power Corporation (NPC).

And if, hypothetically again, Meralco becomes public in nature, would this have assured the consumers that electricity costs will be kept at bay? Given the horrendous record of bureaucratic performance in nationalized corporations, and the widespread perception of ineptitude and incompetence of the same, would this have been, in retrospect (let’s assume), a worthwhile and sustainable project?

Although initially, the recently-converted public company (assuming, again) will lower electricity costs in order to appease the disgruntled public and rationalize its swift and sudden takeover of Meralco, what will happen when the long-established bureaucratic ineptitude will gradually seep in and it becomes susceptible to politicking? What is foreseeable when a political appointee is at its helm, chosen for convenience by the President herself?

I can only cringe at the possibility of undemocratic encroachments within these democratically-constructed entities, because the rhetoric of freedom becomes, in an instant, fleeting, and we are left with a deceptive government, an ailing and heavily-indebted public firm, and an apathetic public which sustains this vicious and atrocious cycle.

And what about socialist ideals?

‘What about them?’

La Gloria asks the question herself, with a sinister smile painted on her face, as the rushes to the airport to board a plane which will take her to the next WTO Summit, with the steady resolve of reaffirming the Philippine commitment to these farce and emasculating concepts of global interconnectedness and international solidarity.

There, with her, goes your socialism.

i remember her from my childhood.

no, remember is not the apt term — she was part of my childhood.

because my childhood recollections cannot be considered complete if she was squeezed out of the picture.

but as i see her right now, and the apparent torment that is lurking beneath her dishevelled exterior, i no longer recognise the sparkle of innocence that seemed so obvious before.

it is sad when friends we know have gone astray, and have outgrown us — or worse, when we outgrow them — but linda’s case was different, neither one of us outgrew each other, but through the years, all her accumulated pain and hurts have scathed her, and may have been the reason why she no longer has her sanity intact.

i’ve seen her twice or thrice probably, in the streets, virtually reduced to a beggar, wearing nothing but rags, her body swollen all over with scabies, her hair in disarray, and mumbling inaudible sounds to herself.

once, i tried going near her, in hopes of her recognizing me — but there never was a hint of familiarity — she only looked intently at me for awhile, then walked away.

i honestly don’t know if that was merely her defense mechanism because she was ashamed of what she had become, but as she looked at me, i was convinced that she had ceased to be the innocent young girl who frequented our house during lazy summer days — who would do everything to wake me up almost every morning and constantly nag me to play kayukok, dakpanay, teks, or dampa with her.

she was no longer there — or if she was, she was pushed way inside her heart, unable to break free and once more see the beauty of living.

my sister, who had taken up nursing as her undergraduate course, shared that in a particular nursing class, they were tasked to interview certain people with mental disabilities — and after having heard of her case, they chose her to be their sample respondent (this was two years ago).

they were however surprised that, like her, her mother, aling edith, had also gone insane, and was in a much more advanced state, that she had to be coercively confined in their house so she would not roam around freely in the neighborhood.

linda, they observed, had more lucid moments back then and was still able to talk sensibly to them — however, it had already become apparent that her living condition had taken its toll on her, and insanity was fast encroaching upon her rational faculties.

which is why lalab was surprised to see her in her condition two years after — her mental disability had worsened, and she had degenerated into a street vagrant who depended on the crumbs of those who were willing to share what they had.

her existence had become her source of torment.

hushed whispers from neighbors and people once close to them surmise that she succumbed to post-partum depression after having given birth twice — worse, they say, both had been fathered by her own father — a drunkard who is notorious for his carnal trysts in our neighborhood. because they say that after aling edith’s sanity had abandoned her and she became incapable of looking after her family, linda was forced to assume her mother’s role — whether it was her intention to do so or not, no one can really tell.

we live sad lives.

and just when we start to believe that stories such as linda’s can only happen in make-believe movies, reality slaps us hard and makes us see that they are more than real. They, in fact, throb with life, and they serve as reminders that life’s turbulence can sometimes scathe some of us irrepairably.

linda may have transformed into a stranger — but as i see her in deep pain and anguish, i choose to remember her from before — when she was a carefree spirit, an innocent young child who was oblivious of what was to come later on in her life —

and i am certain that i am not alone in choosing to see her through her past — because i know, i just do, that deep within the recesses of her heart and soul, she is secretly wishing to be that little girl once more.

one of the few reservations that i had when i agreed to transfer schools was my fear of losing what little semblance of UP-ness that i acquired during the four years or so that i studied there. which is why i vigilantly guarded my way of thinking, my worldview, and my convictions in my new school — because it is true what most people say, the encroachment of these esteemed qualities happen when one least expects it.

and, i must admit, silently but gradually, my progressive academic thinking has been tempered by my exposure to different teaching techniques, and the intrusive culture of detachment that my present academic atmosphere has introduced.

during my first semester here, i raised relevant questions regarding the issues that were raised in most of my classes, not because i wanted to pass off as an arrogant prig, but because i genuinely wanted to learn. but the present academic set-up of my new school, which is largely patterned after high school learning, has stifled my interest to actively participate in pertinent classroom discussions.

here, the teacher dominates in most of the discussions, and here too, students are expected to just listen, scribble down notes, memorize, and just have a passing mark.

more so, through time, i have nurtured a contemptuous feeling towards some of my teachers who have a penchant for just chatting the academic time away, thereby depriving their students of genuine learning.

lets take mr a as an example.

i personally don’t know if he was raised under an ultra-conservative family, or he is just subsumed under the subculture of not questioning convention, or if he is just plain bigoted, but as i see snippets of his personality in the so-so class discussions that we’ve had, i find his ideas downright offensive.

this morning, he jumpstarted the class discussion by saying that he woke up to the most disconcerting news piece he’s ever seen for quite a long time. he saw two women kissing, and said that this was in california, where same-sex marriage was recently legalized. he wondered, and out loud if i may add, why the almighty has not unleashed his full wrath over these moral degenerates yet. and as if he were the most righteous person alive, he snidely remarked: how  can these people still face society without shame?

sheesh.

i don’t even know where to start castigating him in my thoughts. it is precisely because of people like him that our society is so antiquated in thinking even when several quarters have already started to shatter the societally-constructed barriers of gender inequality and the continued oppression of the marginalized.

and, if i may add again, he bitched and ranted for almost 45 minutes, leaving only 15 minutes for actual classroom lecture. i surveyed the room for students who shared my disgust over his bigotry, and yet, there was none — heck, they even laughed with him as though ostracizing gay people was almost second nature which did not merit further questioning nor discernment.

i personally wanted to raise my hand, question his ineptitude towards gender sensibilities, and just ask him upfront: why are you so bigoted?

tsk.

for me, that was a most revolting faux pas on mr a’s part. but apparently for everyone else, it was just accepted and acceptable altogether, a daily routine, a normal remark from a normal teacher.

if that is their way of viewing what’s normal, shatter normalcy.