Spectacle
Spectacle
Updated 01:11am (Mla time) Dec 23, 2004
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the December 23, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
FROM A DISTANCE, the throngs that turned out to bury Fernando Poe Jr. appeared what prognostications said they would be -- not only ardent but also adulatory and noteworthy for endurance. In fact, they made for a spectacle, the sort that gives foreign (and therefore culturally different) observers pause; or for an epic movie, the sort that sweeps the viewer along as frame upon breathless frame unreels, sound and action melding in raging movement.
Raging but, because of disparate persuasions, conducive to petering out. And also, because ideologically unorganized, lacking the force of an idea whose time has come. Authorities must certainly be grateful that the tidal wave of grief portentously looming for the past days descended with a weight not much more than the metaphorical extended sigh. But then the bereaved family as represented by Poe's widow had consistently, admirably, refused to bite the bait slyly dangled by adventurers, at the same time maintaining a frosty hauteur toward which Malacañang could only be diffident. (Imagine what could have been if Susan Roces behaved otherwise.)
Casting about for comparisons, mourners and assorted politicians hark back to the 1983 funeral march that escorted the assassinated Benigno S. Aquino Jr. to his grave -- a swollen river of movement made seamless by a unity of purpose: to defy Ferdinand Marcos; to show, despite the overarching terrorism of his dictatorship, that public outrage was now breaching the banks; to declare that enough was enough. Without intending to gainsay the perfervid quality of yesterday's march, there is no parallel point on which to ruminate but the general thread of sorrow running through it.
To be sure, the memory of Poe's coffin on a carriage pulled by a horse -- part of the spectacle, apparently in keeping with the now-mythical image of "Da King" as a horseman, but now imbued with a certain measure of insensitivity considering the terrible effort that the horse was compelled to make -- is now part of the national imagination, as is the memory of the flatbed truck bearing Aquino's coffin. But unfortunately, the rowdies who yesterday comported themselves solely as voyeurs (hanging from trees and trampling plants and niches, as much moved by a morbid curiosity as by schadenfreude), mugged for the TV cameras, and damned the organizers' assiduous planning and grappled as heatedly for space as for whatever giveaways they could grasp -- even those who, incredibly, were seen waving the Stars and Stripes in the manner of activists waving the red flags of protest -- took away from the proceedings what could have been a unifying theme: the supposed widespread anger at the alleged cheating that robbed Poe of the presidency. (Then again, why shouldn't they wave the Stars and Stripes? Even the mighty US government sent condolences to the Poes.)
Panic
IT WOULD SEEM then that Malacañang had switched to panic mode, and President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her coterie of advisers were caught in the throes of overreaction. How inelegant. Imagine the Commander in Chief marking the 69th anniversary of the Armed Forces on Tuesday, not on the grounds of Camp Aguinaldo where she could have regally trooped the line and inspected her troops, but in the fortress also known as the Palace. And imagine her bidding her soldiers to "be by my side," like she were crooning a love song to them, as though they were not obliged to do so.
This unseemly behavior is entirely of a piece with the flurry of conciliatory gestures that Malacañang had made since news broke that the principal contender to Ms Arroyo's post had given up his ghost. Politely rebuffed by Poe family members on its amazing efforts to get on their good side, Malacañang had turned tail and proceeded to scare itself silly with the man's ghost. Is this any way for a strong republic to proceed?
Now the question arises as to why the apparent panic in Malacañang reached such surprising proportions ("very strict" inspections and access controls, "upgraded" security arrangements, "additional troops," not to mention ferrying Palace employees by barge). Why the defensive stance toward the supposed anger over its alleged dirty tricks during the presidential election? What is it hiding?
Updated 01:11am (Mla time) Dec 23, 2004
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A12 of the December 23, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
FROM A DISTANCE, the throngs that turned out to bury Fernando Poe Jr. appeared what prognostications said they would be -- not only ardent but also adulatory and noteworthy for endurance. In fact, they made for a spectacle, the sort that gives foreign (and therefore culturally different) observers pause; or for an epic movie, the sort that sweeps the viewer along as frame upon breathless frame unreels, sound and action melding in raging movement.
Raging but, because of disparate persuasions, conducive to petering out. And also, because ideologically unorganized, lacking the force of an idea whose time has come. Authorities must certainly be grateful that the tidal wave of grief portentously looming for the past days descended with a weight not much more than the metaphorical extended sigh. But then the bereaved family as represented by Poe's widow had consistently, admirably, refused to bite the bait slyly dangled by adventurers, at the same time maintaining a frosty hauteur toward which Malacañang could only be diffident. (Imagine what could have been if Susan Roces behaved otherwise.)
Casting about for comparisons, mourners and assorted politicians hark back to the 1983 funeral march that escorted the assassinated Benigno S. Aquino Jr. to his grave -- a swollen river of movement made seamless by a unity of purpose: to defy Ferdinand Marcos; to show, despite the overarching terrorism of his dictatorship, that public outrage was now breaching the banks; to declare that enough was enough. Without intending to gainsay the perfervid quality of yesterday's march, there is no parallel point on which to ruminate but the general thread of sorrow running through it.
To be sure, the memory of Poe's coffin on a carriage pulled by a horse -- part of the spectacle, apparently in keeping with the now-mythical image of "Da King" as a horseman, but now imbued with a certain measure of insensitivity considering the terrible effort that the horse was compelled to make -- is now part of the national imagination, as is the memory of the flatbed truck bearing Aquino's coffin. But unfortunately, the rowdies who yesterday comported themselves solely as voyeurs (hanging from trees and trampling plants and niches, as much moved by a morbid curiosity as by schadenfreude), mugged for the TV cameras, and damned the organizers' assiduous planning and grappled as heatedly for space as for whatever giveaways they could grasp -- even those who, incredibly, were seen waving the Stars and Stripes in the manner of activists waving the red flags of protest -- took away from the proceedings what could have been a unifying theme: the supposed widespread anger at the alleged cheating that robbed Poe of the presidency. (Then again, why shouldn't they wave the Stars and Stripes? Even the mighty US government sent condolences to the Poes.)
Panic
IT WOULD SEEM then that Malacañang had switched to panic mode, and President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her coterie of advisers were caught in the throes of overreaction. How inelegant. Imagine the Commander in Chief marking the 69th anniversary of the Armed Forces on Tuesday, not on the grounds of Camp Aguinaldo where she could have regally trooped the line and inspected her troops, but in the fortress also known as the Palace. And imagine her bidding her soldiers to "be by my side," like she were crooning a love song to them, as though they were not obliged to do so.
This unseemly behavior is entirely of a piece with the flurry of conciliatory gestures that Malacañang had made since news broke that the principal contender to Ms Arroyo's post had given up his ghost. Politely rebuffed by Poe family members on its amazing efforts to get on their good side, Malacañang had turned tail and proceeded to scare itself silly with the man's ghost. Is this any way for a strong republic to proceed?
Now the question arises as to why the apparent panic in Malacañang reached such surprising proportions ("very strict" inspections and access controls, "upgraded" security arrangements, "additional troops," not to mention ferrying Palace employees by barge). Why the defensive stance toward the supposed anger over its alleged dirty tricks during the presidential election? What is it hiding?
posted by Dante at 2:31 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home