A failure to celebrate

IT WAS not just the cloudy morning and last night’s rain which left our small flag hanging limp at the gate. As with so many things during the pandemic, Independence Day stole up on us and we failed to rouse ourselves to check out the practiced motions of patriotic ceremony.

Indeed, I have noted with others that we, as a people, have never appreciated the value of rites and rituals in public life. As national celebrations go, people welcome the opportunity to be free of work and not much more.

Sometime in the 90s, I was among Southeast Asian journalists invited to a familiarization tour of Indonesia. The week opened with the country’s day of independence. It was then, and maybe even now, an outpouring of fervent prayer, the tearful chanting of nationalist mantras, a grand showcasing of the passing of symbolic documents to the younger generation from no less than the president of the land.  In an earlier period when living in the US,  I stirred to the genuinely emotional tug of Fourth of July.  More than just the traditional picnic or cookout in the beach or backyard, the holiday summoned feelings of pride and belonging and feeling lucky about being Americans.

Is it because Filipinos have suffered such historical anguish as a people that this national day is so empty of resonance?

For most of my days as a student in grade school, it was July 4 which would occasion the assignment to write an essay on the meaning of national independence, a juvenile exercise which did not delve into the continued ties that bound our sovereignty to the will of Washington D.C. But there was enough in the surface of things, a scene captured in a majestic black and white photograph of the raising of the Philippine flag in ceremonies in front of Congress building, now the National Museum, for the task to stir some sentiment.

Apart from the writing, there was little else to do on the day. My family never went to Luneta to cheer the government sponsored parade. We sat in the comfort of our living room to view the spectacle on TV. My father bought the small flags sold by the boys on the street and we would watch the colors wave in the breeze for a few days. My parents lived through the war and one sensed in their ways a gratitude for living at peace in a free society.

In 1962, President Diosdado Macapagal proclaimed the change of date in our celebration of national independence.  As a sophomore in college, I heard the usual discussion of why this had to be done.  But I could not think more on the matter except to wonder how the younger students would find the words to evoke the raising of the country’s flag in Kawit, Cavite when on June 12, General Emilio Aguinaldo, declared his revolutionary army’s victory over Spanish troops.

For many of my generation, the date held little emotional force. Historians would later reveal how factionalism tore at revolution and the chain of betrayals which shaded the national struggle, ending as it did with the takeover of our country from one colonial master to another.

Is this lack of patriotic feeling a result or cause of our national malaise?

It is probably a little of both. No nation can grow strong and stalwart without heart. Even those who leave the country for greener pastures abroad are drawn back to their roots with a strange force. One’s love for country is measured more accurately when the land of birth becomes a place of deprivation and torment. So for all of us who have chosen to stay and live out our lives in this homeland, today could be an awakening.

Despite the threat of disease, protesters observing responsible social distance have taken to the streets. There are many on digital platforms calling out the massive failure of the Duterte government to address the pandemic, causing great loss of life and livelihood. 

We should not fail to note how since he rose to power in 2016, this president has taken this national holiday as an excuse to seclude himself in his home in Davao, relegating to other officials the ceremonial flag raising and wreathe laying to honor Jose Rizal, his very brief message read only as a script thrust in his hand.

How unfortunate that this first president from Mindanao has exerted so little effort to engage Filipinos in Mindanao and everywhere else in the archipelago to a greater sense of nationhood.  We are left to ourselves to re-kindle the residual flame of pride in our national identity.

The quality of our politicians has always been a source of worry and doubt about how Philippine democracy can move forward. But our prospects have never been as dim as it is under this administration. It is not only the anti-terror bill, the deployment of disinformation through troll armies, and the unleashing of state forces against the people they have been sworn to serve.

Our national waters have been taken over by China, without a word of complaint from the president, he who has lashed at Filipinos for imagined injuries. Beijing’s establishment of administrative districts on their enclaves in the West Philippine Sea has gone virtually unquestioned, nothing like the curses thrown on other international leaders, including Pope Francis. In fact, President Duterte has continued to claim how good China has been to the country. Legislation has been crafted to ease the entry of a Chinese government corporation or their dummy partners, flouting the constitution.

The 122^nd anniversary of our national independence poses a question for Filipinos — will we silently accept the domination of our country by yet another  imperial power? We are challenged to prove that despite the failure of national leadership, we can stand up and claim our independence and in the words of nationalist legislator,  Claro M. Recto, find “cause to indulge in a national celebration of the glorious resurrection of our freedom after the long and mournful season of its betrayal, passion and crucifixion.”