Manuel L. Quezon III's Blog, page 99

Filipinos and Freemasonry

Filipinos and Freemasonry

by Manuel L. Quezon III

Talk for the Annual 2010 Multi-District Convention for All Masonic Lodges in the Philippines

Plaridel Masonic Temple, San Marcelino St., Manila

November 27, 2010

FREEMASONS, n.  An order with secret rites, grotesque ceremonies and fantastic costumes, which, originating in the reign of Charles II, among working artisans of London, has been joined successively by the  dead of past centuries in unbroken retrogression until now it embraces all the generations of man on the hither side of Adam and is drumming up distinguished recruits among the pre-Creational inhabitants of Chaos and Formless Void.  The order was founded at different times by Charlemagne, Julius Caesar, Cyrus, Solomon, Zoroaster, Confucius, Thothmes, and Buddha.  Its emblems and symbols have been found in the Catacombs of Paris and Rome, on the stones of the Parthenon and the Chinese Great Wall, among the temples of Karnak and Palmyra and in the Egyptian Pyramids -always by a Freemason. —Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary

Today Masonry is viewed as a civic organization not very different from the Rotary Clubs and Kiwanis to which these Masons may, in fact, belong to as well. And yet there was a time -not so distant at that, as we will soon see- when Masons and Freemasonry were viewed with alarm in certain quarters, not just in the Philippines, but throughout Europe as well.

The Catholic Church, for one, has, since the 18th century, condemned Freemasonry, and subjected Masons to the most severe ecclesiastical sanctions. The latest revision of Canon Law undertaken during the reign of Pope John Paul II retains the penalty of automatic excommunication for any Catholic who becomes a Mason. This is a relic of the acrimonious relationship between Catholicism and Freemasonry which continues to have repercussions up to the present.

Other groups have persecuted Masons in their time: Napoleon detested them (although his brother Joseph was a Mason). Hitler loathed them; indeed dictators in general have displayed an aversion if not outright hostility to Masons.

For Freemasonry carries with it a mystique accumulated over the centuries, historical baggage which has amused skeptics like Ambrose Bierce, and delighted aficionados of conspiracy theory and mysticism verging on the occult. The phenomenal success of Umberto Eco's novel, Foucalt's Pendulum , an intricate tale of secret societies, from the Knights Templar to the Rosicrucians to the Ilumminati and (naturally) Freemasonry, attests to this. The only other organization which has as strong a grip on the popular imagination are the Jesuits, the traditional nemesis of Masonry.

The traditional view is that Freemasonry is a global conspiracy, which has taken on an antireligious character. It is viewed as a shadowy organization which aims to infiltrate the corridors of power, all the better to facilitate the rise into prominence of fellow Masons, to the exclusion of all others. The governing elites of entire countries -France, the United Kingdom, to name just two examples- are said to be dominated by Masons, and the same thing used to be said of the Philippines.

No wonder then that Freemasonry remains a favorite subject for speculation, from the alleged murder of Pope John Paul I in the book In God's Name , to a journalistic expose of Masonic domination of the British police and legal system in The Brotherhood. But speculation as to whether Masonry is a "secret society" -or "a society with secrets"- overlooks a central fact, which should rapidly demolish any attempts to portray Masonry as a global conspiracy. Masonry is not an organized global movement. There are individual Masons who belong to autonomous Masonic lodges which may be linked to other lodges within the same country; but there is no world-wide super body that gives orders to the different national lodges.

So what is Masonry? Is it what the Masons claim it is -a fraternal society with secrets, a civic entity with benevolent aspirations? One among civic organizations which undertake philanthropic tasks? You would find it impossible to convince conspiracy theorist sthat this is so. The truth is that the average citizen pays no more attention to it than it does to the fraternities that are so prominent in the public's consciousness. No one pays more particular attention to Masonic symbols, the ubiquitous compass-and-straight-edge, displayed on the vehicles of some Masons, than they to to say, a Rotary International sticker or Toastmaster's sign.

This nonchalant attitude is, after centuries of hysteria, quite welcome, but it is as misplaced as the paranoia that used to accompany the mere mention of the word "Mason". For what sets Masonry apart from other fraternal organizations -indeed, what made it worth the while of various governments to expend energy arresting Masons- are ideals it espouses, best summarized by the glorious motto of the French Revolution: Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. The Enlightenment ideals of our very own Propagandists and Revolutionaries. Over the past two centuries Masons have been the proponents, and then the guardians, of Enlightenment thinking; Rationalist, Deist, essentially Democratic and always stressing Political Compromise. No surprise then that it has often been at the vanguard of resistance to absolutist regimes, including the totalitarian regimes of the recent past. Masons were active in the French and American revolutions; they were prominent during the long process of the reduction of the governing powers of British sovereigns; they were central figures in the attempts to establish a more liberal regime in Spain, and were still persecuted during the time of Generalissimo Francisco Franco; they helped undertake the Risorgimiento which finally united Italy and which, ironically, forced the Catholic Church, through the elimination of its temporal power, to reassess itself and make itself once more a potent force in word affairs because of its strictly religious prestige. And Masons were central figures in the long campaign to secure independence for the Philippines in war and peace.

Freemasonry's origins in the Philippines are traced to Spain, but masonry as it exists today owes little to Spain, its present-day characteristics and existence being linked to American freemasonry. After the defeat of the First Philippine Republic by the forces of the United States, and the "pacification" of the country, restrictions on peaceable assembly and private associations were relaxed; Masonry was allowed to flourish since the American regime imposed retained the separation of Church and State accomplished during the Revolution.

The surviving Filipino Masons decided to revive their links to the Gran Oriente Español, the mother lodge which had been headed by Miguel Morayta, and with which most Filipino lodges had been affiliated with during the Spanish regime. The Regional Grand Lodge of the Philippines was created on September 14, 1907, with Felipe Buencamino, Sr. as the first Grand Master.

But there were American Masons, too, and the promptly set up their own lodges; in 1912 the three American lodges united to form the Grand Lodge of the Philippine Islands -which promptly provoked a protest from the Filipino Masons, who pointed out that they had priority of jurisdiction in the country. The result was the decision to fuse the Spanish-oriented Filipino Grand Lodge with the American Scottish Rite Grand Lodge, creating the Grand Lodge of the Philippine Islands. This was in 1917. By 1918, the unified Grand Lodge was headed by a Filipino, with Filipinos and Americans alternating as Grand Masters thereafter.

The Japanese Occupation was marked by the suppression of Masonry by the Japanese Military Government, while Masonry contributed its own martyrs to the cause of the war effort, most notably Chief Justice Jose Abad Santos, a past Grand Master. The Scottish Rite Temple on Taft Avenue, which had been confiscated by the Japanese, who had destroyed the Masonic paraphernalia and records kept there, was heavily damaged during the Battle of Manila in 1945, resulting in the loss of even more documents.

Freemasonry was reestablished, however. In 1950, the Grand Lodge of the Philippine Islands became autonomous from Scottish Rite Freemasonry in the United States. The Supreme Council for the Philippines was recognized by the Supreme Council, Southern Jurisdiction of the United States, which had formerly had jurisdiction over the Philippine lodges. Soon after the Supreme Council for the Philippines was renamed Grand Lodge of the Philippines.

These were the antecedents of Scottish Rite Freemasonry in the Philippines today; but as to the origins of Masonry itself…

It is ironic that what began as a medieval Catholic guild eventually became the object of Catholic ire. Masonry is called masonry because it was once a Catholic trade guild for the stone masons who were engaged in building the great Cathedrals of the Middle Ages. Stonemasons were considered an elite with special skills, who lived an itinerant existence according to where projects were available; it is said that part of the mysticism and mysteriousness of Masonic institutions was derived from the stonemasons' efforts to keep their guild exclusive.

These stonemasons gathered in "lodges," a word which has been traced back to the year 1277.  But by the late 16th century, the age of the great Gothic cathedrals had passed; stonemasons' lodges became an anachronism, representing a dying craft.

Then, in Scotland, non-masons began to be accepted in the lodges. The name of this first non-mason, accepted into a lodge, is known -as is the year he joined. He was John Boswell, Laird of Auchinleck, who joined the Edinburgh lodge in the year 1600. By 1646, the English lodges had also begun to accept gentlemen, the first being Elais Ashmole, of Oxford's Ashmolean Museum fame. This was in 1646. By 1670 it seems non-stonemasons outnumbered the masons in the lodges. Soon after that gentlemen began establishing their own lodges, and Freemasonry as we know it now began. The thirty years that followed, leading up to the foundation of the Grand Lodge of England in 1717, saw the development of the characteristics that distinguish Masonry to this day.  The secrets of the society were laid down, as were its rituals and initiations. Its fraternal ideals, which cut across class divisions, emerged, as well -a remarkable development. It also had its political foundations which would endure and contribute to its appeal, in that many of the first gentlemen-masons also supported the rapid reduction in the governing prerogatives of the Kings of England taking place at the time.

Masonry was reorganized along British lines soon after, and then it began to spread to other European nations. Members of the aristocracy became Masons, as did some sovereigns, following the lead of members of the British Royal Family who became Masons. Freemasonry had already entered France in 1718, and the Austrian Empire by 1726 -with the Emperor Joseph II and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart being two prominent early Masons. Spain had lodges by 1728, the American Colonies had theirs by 1731, and within the next six years Italy, the Netherlands, Sweden, Switzerland and parts of Germany had Masonic lodges too. Between 1743 and 1776, Masonry would be established in Scandinavia, the Canadian colonies, Finland and Luxembourg.

In Protestant countries, Masonry flourished, as it continues to flourish, there being no incompatibility in the views of Protestant clergymen, between the tenets of Masonry and their religion -to this day many members of the Anglican church are Masons.

But in Catholic countries the Catholic Church and Catholic principalities eventually opposed Masonry. While a Catholic, the Duke of Norfolk, had had no problem in becoming the tenth Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of England, by 1738 no Catholic could become a Mason without incurring condemnation by the Church -partly as a response to the number of Catholic prelates who had joined Freemasonry.

In Countries where the union of Church and State was particularly firm, it was inevitable that Church policy would be adopted as the policy of the State. This is what happened in Spain -and as Spain went, so did its little backwater of a colony, the Philippines. Even more virulently so.

On December 2, 1956, during the Second National Eucharistic Congress in Manila, President Ramon Magsaysay read an act consecrating the Philippines to the Sacred Heart. He simply reiterated the consecration of the Philippines to this popular devotion undertaken by then Vice-President Fernando Lopez in 1950 -but his action provoked a storm of protest.

One of those who objected to Magsaysay's action, an Evangelical leader named Dr. Gumersindo Garcia, said, "In accordance with the principle of the separation of Church and State, the President of this country should not give preference or favor to any particular Church." Two young leaders came to their President's defense. Senator Soc Rodrigo said the President was acting as a private individual, while Raul Manglapus maintained that it was wrong to take the separation of Church and State to mean that a private individual was not entitled to publicly display his faith.

The protest to Magsayay's act was joined by the Philippine Independent Church and the Philippine Federation of Christian Churches. But a citizen's group, called "The Spirit of 1896," headed by Judge Guillermo Guevara, joined the fray.   As the lines of battle were drawn, another thing became apparent: this was as much a fight between generations as anything else. The point of separation between the views of  elder Filipinos, as represented by Judge Guevara, and the perspective of outstanding young leaders such as Soc Rodrigo and Raul Manglapus, was  the proper role of the Catholic Church in a secular state.

Judge Guevara's generation would have remembered that less than twenty years earlier,  President Quezon had deliberately absented himself from the country in order to avoid participating in the International Eucharistic Congress held in Manila in 1937, explaining that "as President of the Philippines, I am not in a position to do what your program calls for." He also declined to petition the Pope to appoint a Filipino archbishop of Manila (the Archbishop then was Michael O'Dougherty, who would prove to be the last foreign archbishop), saying that this would constitute a violation of the separation of Church and State.

They would have remembered, too, that a campaign begun by the Catholic Church, to allow religious instruction in public schools, bore fruit when the National Assembly passed an Act authorizing religious instruction -by any denomination- as an acceptable alternative to a new course on character building, good manners and right conduct mandated by the same Act. The bill was promptly vetoed by Quezon, resulting in a pastoral letter criticizing the executive action, and something of a tiff between the Palace and the bishops.

Memories of the squabble over the Religious Instruction bill certainly could account for the alacrity with which the restoration of religious instruction in public schools was met. In 1953 administrative charges were filed against Secretary of Education Cecilio Putong and three others "for allegedly intending to sabotage the religious instruction provision" of the Administrative Code. During the investigation that ensued (Putong would be absolved after a presidential inquiry), it was maintained that religious instruction in the schools was being "sabotaged" by, among other things (as stated in one complaint), religion classes were being held beside the room where the school band was practicing. Not a good way to keep the students' attention, particularly when the rooms were divided by a sawali wall.

It was alleged that Putong was part of a committee aimed at "the elimination of religious instruction in public schools." Grandmaster Emilio P. Virata was quoted as having said that,

"At present we have a law permitting religious instruction in public schools. There is a strong movement to make this instruction compulsory. This I take as a violation of our Constitution and I urge everyone of you to use all your power and influence to not only to frustrate this movement but also to have the religious instruction law repealed."

For the next couple of years it seemed that the Propaganda Movement was alive again. Cries of Masonic conspiracy were raised, for it was true that Masons figured prominently in attempts to enforce a strict definition of the separation of Church and State. But it was also true that the issue was also important to non-Masonic groups, such as the Evangelicals (the case of the Philippine Independent Church was a special one, for it had always had friendly ties with the Masons as some of its clergy were Masons themselves).

Then in the summer of 1955, Secretary of Education Gregorio Hernandez issued Department Order No. 5 which allowed religious instruction to be carried out during the school session of public schools,  instructing religious instructors to hand in their grades to school principles, and furthermore giving principals the discretion to take the grades into consideration in appraising the conduct of children. The order was challenged by a parent, who challenged a principal's request for his child's grade in religious instruction. The case reached the Supreme Court, which dismissed the case because, it pointed out, the parent had authorized his child's taking religion classes, thus making the option requested in writing by the parent obligatory -you could not request something and then wriggle out of its consequences afterwards. Nonetheless, the case did result in a further clarification of the implications optional religious instruction in public schools had on this Constitutional principle.

More skirmishes lay ahead;  The famous fight lead by Claro M. Recto (not a Mason) and Jose P. Laurel (a Mason) to make Rizal's novels mandatory reading in all schools; also Recto's reaction to what he perceived to be illegitimate religious pressure exerted on the electorate by the Catholic clergy in the elections of 1953 and 1955. Recto even suggested, in an article in The Lawyers Journal (1958) that a Constitutional amendment be passed to further clarify the definition of the separation of Church and State in the Constitution.

You may be puzzled over all this hubbub over religious instruction, and may wonder about its significance today in an age when the Filipino people gave John Paul II the biggest audience in history, and when Filipino leaders and politicians regularly invoke religious authorities to support their candidacies; never before, it seems, has religion played such an important role in national politics -with the implication that the old, strict definition of the Separation of Church and State is obsolete.

But just as Masonic influences are evident everywhere -from the equilateral triangle in our flag and the seal of the president of the Philippines- so are the anticlerical feelings of the Propagandists deeply ingrained in many people's psyches.

But from the grand vista of our political history, let me focus on the emerging crisis confronting all organizations built on fraternal ties and a strong civic sense. Many Freemasons are also members of fraternities; the Craft may be preeminent in their lives but it is also an aspect of their membership in clubs.

Clubs are one of the few institutions that have an institutional memory, and which cherishes traditions. They are organizations that serve, for their members, as part of the bedrock of society. I've long pointed out that our society, at least for the upper classes, and the middle class which tries to copy the upper class, is defined by three institutions. They are, church, club, and school.

All these institutions require a rite of passage. For Christians, your initiation into the religion begins with baptism. For schools, you have ceremonies to mark your passage from grade school to high school and when you finish college. For clubs, they invariably mark the acceptance of new members with some sort of ceremony, which at times requires some sort of hazing.

There's a reason behind the existence of clubs, and their rituals. And it has something to do with a freedom Filipinos take freedom for granted. The freedom of association. As well as associations being a means to exercise not only freedom, but gain influence.

Filipino Sociologist Randy David has long been arguing, that our society is undergoing a crisis of modernity. The crisis comes out of our traditional values turning out to be incompatible with our aspirations to be modern. Modernity, as David pointed out, means institutions that operate according to impartial rules.

For example, what should matter more, merit or connections? What happens, when connections end up putting a few people ahead of the interests of everyone else? You have the crisis in modernity David was referring to.

Knowledge is power. Not only what you know, but who you know, confers power.

This crisis has actually been there for some time. Even if you try to establish a modern institution, the people who make up that institution, often operate to age-old values, and demonstrate behavior drilled into their minds by society.

The comfortable bonhomie of a Lodge is far removed from the days when membership could, literally, cost someone their life. The networking that characterizes much of the interactions that take place in Lodges and in clubs, is, itself, under threat: by new standards of modernity where connections are actually viewed as challenges to meritocracy; and by changes in the behavior of young people.

How many Rotarians, for example, do you know, who find it increasingly difficult to recruit new members, because their children and grandchildren find it more useful to network through FaceBook rather than attend a weekly Rotary luncheon; or who say, they aren't interested in the Craft because they no longer see the advantages of a fraternal organization in an increasingly globalized world?

These are the challenges ahead: where, on one hand, the sense of civic pride, of historical obligation, both strong motivations for excellence and dedication, are confronted by new notions of what constitutes not only admirable, but useful, behavior. I cannot pretend to know how these challenges will be resolved. I can only say that to confront these challenges is the first step. And one, I am confident, organizations like the Freemasons have the integrity, brainpower, and love of country and of people, to successfully meet.

Thank you.

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Tying up loose ends: The unfinished official record of the Commonwealth of the Philippines

Tying up loose ends: The unfinished official record of the Commonwealth of the Philippines

By Manuel L. Quezon III

(Paper delivered at the 75th Anniversary of the Commonwealth of the Philippines Symposium of the National Historical Commission of the Philippines, National Gallery, Manila)

It is a great honor to be asked to share some thoughts with you on this, the 75th anniversary of the inauguration of the Commonwealth of the Philippines.

It was a time of transition – and of evolution. There are two statements Quezon made in private – subsequently published – which to my mind summarizes the evolution taking place not just nationally, or institutionally, but in the individuals tasked with playing a role in that era.

The first dates from 1922, as quoted by Teodoro M. Kalaw, in his autobiography[1]:

"The problem with you is that you take the game of politics too seriously. You look too far behind you and too far ahead of you. Our people do not understand that. They do not want it. All they want is to have the present problem solved, and solved with the least pain. That is all."

The second was an observation recorded in Francis Burton Harrison's diary in 1938, in the second year of the Commonwealth[2]: "The people care more for good government than they do for self-government… the fear is that the Head of State may either exceed his powers, or abuse them by improprieties. To keep order is his main purpose."

This was an observation pregnant with meaning, and rife with opportunities for debate, indicating, as it did – and does – which of the two contending attitudes reflects the true nature of our society when it comes to civic and political participation, and their expectation of our leaders: do we naturally gravitate, to borrow Sergio Osmeña's term, toward a "directing class," or is the challenge before us that posed by a society stifled by a leadership which itself acts and rules like an alien power?

Or is this an alien dichotomy in itself, which owes more to colonial notions than anything else?

I have argued for some time that if we want to understand the Commonwealth of the Philippines – what it was, and where it was headed – we must look to our Asian neighbors. Specifically, we must look to those nations that achieved independence in a similar manner: by negotiation, and without resort to a war of independence.

But first we must dispense with what can only be called Revolutionary Envy, an ideological affliction that has colored the approach to this period of our national development, with increasing intensity, since the 1960s. Its origins lie in the great national trauma of the Second World War and the Japanese Occupation; it grew and came to be endemic in the great confrontation between Left and Right during the Cold War; and to be sure, all these had its origins during the period under consideration itself – the Commonwealth.

Revolutionary Envy presupposes that the only authentic expression of sovereignty and independence is to seize it by force; that everything else is a sham; that the Jacobin and the Bolshevist, on one hand, are the only truly Enlightened Ones: though their mortal enemies on the Right insist that they have it wrong, and that if rivers of blood must flow, it must be the blood of the enemies of property and not those labeled as Class Enemies.

Both sides believe in force and in the elimination of certain categories of people to establish a utopia maintained by the ruthless application of force. Both share contempt for negotiation, for compromise, for evolution, and liberal democracy. Both sides believe that a country that evolves is inferior – in terms of its institutions and the people tasked with turning those institutions into productive tools for achieving social justice, development, and peace – to countries that have been forged in the crucible of revolution.

As Rigoberto Tiglao recently wrote, "my friends and I had often speculated that our problem as a nation—in contrast to Indonesia, Korea and Vietnam through its fierce internecine wars, and even the US through its civil war—is that we never really went through episodes when blood really flowed, which forces a citizen to cherish his nation."[3]

Therefore there is envy of the achievements of Mao Zedong and Ho Chi Minh, or of Sukarno and Suharto; all engaged in great purges. I suppose there is something admirable in taking such a clinical approach to entire populations: so many tens of thousands or millions to be excised or amputated from the body politic, so much to be desired in achieving a Bionic Nation.

The organic, or evolutionary reality, mind you, may not be much more palatable either: the strongman rule of Mahathir or Lee Kwan Yew, presiding over cozy one party governments spanning generations and adept at using the law and state power to put critics and the population in their proper, that is, thoroughly subordinate, place.

But it is to these contemporary examples that we must turn, if we are to hazard a glimpse, however shadowy, of what might have been. The Commonwealth as it had evolved prior to World War II would have been a familiar place to any present-day Malaysian or Singaporean or even Thai or even, until recently, Indian politician: a well-entrenched, near-permanent political class, acting in league with big businessmen, assured of generations-old networks of patronage extending from the public to the private sector, subject to the control of a succession of increasingly elderly, but durable, peers who rose to rule the roost.

All could claim the outward appearances of the institutions operating to the rule of law, couched in the language and invoking the rituals of the colonizer; all could –and did, and do- claim to be authentic expressions of values the colonizer attempted to inculcate by means of the educational system; all would –did, and do- claim to be finding ways to transform these into more authentic expressions of their native culture. And all –did, and do- bristle at being challenged on these assertions by their former colonizers and their own intelligentsia.

As Al McCoy once asked, was there any difference from Quezonian caudillismo and the rajah pretensions of the Marcosian New Society? He put forward his own answer, but let me propose another.

The difference is fundamental but little noticed: the deliberate mentorship of successors by the former and the studious elimination of all possible successors by the latter.

On the eve of World War II, Quezon had engineered a three cornered fight between three putative successors: his vice president, Osmeña; his candidate for the newly-restored Senate Presidency, Yulo; and the man he eventually anointed his successor, Roxas. The eldest, Osmeña, had every reason to expect to succeed to the presidency in 1943, as Quezon retired to the wings, knowing by then which of his two protégés, Yulo and Roxas, would gravitate to Osmeña as all prepared for what would surely have been a great showdown in 1945 to determine who would become the first president of the independent republic.

This included the possibility that the eventual winner would not be one of the dueling duo of Quezon or Osmeña, but someone else –one groomed to be a successor. In that sense, Quezon arguably had more foresight, perhaps by force of physical circumstances: like Mohammed Ali Jinnah of Pakistan, who was also afflicted by tuberculosis, the ambition to be the father of his country literally consumed him. Osmeña never focused, as keenly, on grooming protégés, much less anointing any possible successors.

On the eve of martial law, Marcos was preparing the opposite: to perpetuate himself by force of arms and not by means of political maneuver or any –however brief- respite from office. And he proceeded to incarcerate his potential successors, none of whom could be considered his protégés: he probably feared outright persecution from Ninoy Aquino and could not have been too keen on the blander prospects of Gerry Roxas, either.

Here enters one thread that may be worthy of exploration, in order to unravel just how long a thread it may be. The question of confidence, of optimism shared between populace and presidents. There have been times when public confidence was, arguably, prevalent, in contrast to more protracted periods of national self-doubt and even defeatism. For the sake of argument let us propose them as the period of the Revolution and the First Republic; the Commonwealth; the brief administration of Magsaysay; it was attempted, possibly even merely simulated, during the New Society, and flowered all too briefly in the immediate aftermath of Edsa Revolution.

Since today is about the Commonwealth, let me briefly point out that if one accepts the Commonwealth as a period of optimism, with its ambitious nation-building programs of Social Justice, National Defense, Economic Planning and the more controversial Partyless Democracy (interestingly, still debated in India), then what happened to that optimism should be worthy of exploration.

This brings us to the inevitable question of trying to determine just what place the Commonwealth should occupy in the development –or lack of it- of our nation, its people, and their institutions. In Singapore I proposed[4] that the preoccupation of leaders such as Quezon, at the time independence seemed nigh, was what would serve as a rallying cause once the independence movement bore fruit.

As it turned out, this was followed by the obsession over Communism, and the question of social order and material progress. In that lecture, pointing out something our part of the world has only had in common very, very recently –we are the first generation of Southeast Asians to see leaders assume the height of power not having been born during the colonial era- the question confronting those leaders, and us, is a fundamental question of civic, in contrast to cultural, identity. In a globalized world, can the very concept of a nation, a state, have primacy of loyalty or even relevance, to its citizens?

However, returning to the Commonwealth itself, the verdict might be, that what might possibly have been achievable within the full, uninterrupted period preparatory to independence, became not only impossible, because of World War II, but that the looming shadows of war and the national trauma that was the Japanese Occupation, permanently crippled the nation-building project on which the prewar generation had so confidently –even hubristically- embarked[5]. The trauma has been so deep, and so protracted, it has led to what can only be called the perpetual avoidance of opportunity[6] as the default, because less perilous, option for most Filipinos, particularly their leaders.

We should all be wary of ex post facto conclusions –of indicting the past in terms of what could not conceivably have been foreseen, or the tendency to attribute too much foresight to those dealing with day-to-day events of the calamitous kind. To my mind the fairest and most perceptive summary of this period (and those who lived through it) was penned by Randy David[7] and it deserves lengthy quotation:

"Our elders will likely tell us that we have moved backward politically despite the growth of a middle and educated class, and despite the presence of a more informed public. They will say that there was a more reliable and professional civil service in their time, that our leaders behaved like statesmen, and that there was less corruption. They will also say that political parties played a bigger role in politics then than they do today. If they are right, how do we account for this deterioration in the quality of our public life?

"Perhaps we can begin to answer this question by noting that recruitment to leadership roles in Philippine politics up to 1972 was distinctly elitist, controlled by a two-party system dominated by the landed oligarchy. Filipino leaders were conscious of their responsibility as builders of a free nation. They were keen to show the world that Filipinos were capable of governing themselves. A whole generation of Filipino professionals was educated to take over the reins of government. In a sense, that golden period concealed the underlying weakness of our society—the mass poverty and sharp inequalities that reduced most of our people into dependent spectators.

"With the passing of that pre-war generation, the stresses and strains of an underdeveloped society struggling to govern itself democratically began to surface. The old feudal values of restraint and nobility quickly vanished, as the logic of a cash economy prevailed. The intervening martial law period destroyed the political parties. With the return of democracy, the doors to the nation's political system opened widely, but minus the gate-keeping role of political parties. Gone is the goal of nation-building. The result has been the steady depreciation of politics and governance. We are in transition. We can neither return to the old nor be content with the present. We have no choice but to re-invent the nation."

I would only note that the two party system itself was an accident and one not envisioned as an integral part of our politics prior to the outbreak of the war, a tendency and attitude, as I've mentioned earlier, many Southeast and even East Asians in their own political milieus would have recognized postwar.

Having put forward my opinions, let me move to the main point I want to put forward today: it is, how the official record of the Commonwealth itself remains unfinished. I will set aside the tricky question, itself worthy of debate, whether such an official record can or should be completed after the fact; obviously you know on which side of the question I stand: for collation and if necessary, completion. Let me argue that even as scholars undertake their exploration of the official and unofficial record, and here the recent work of Cullather[8], Gueraiche[9], and McCoy[10] show how much more there is to explore and propose, there is a need, institutionally speaking, to complete the official record.

From Quezon to Quirino, the Messages of the President[11] series of volumes was published, containing, on the American model, the public papers of the presidents. All executive issuances, laws, and important speeches, statements and other For Quezon, the years 1935-1940 were covered; for Osmeña, as far as can be determined, no such official compilation was ever published; and only one volume for Roxas, published in his lifetime, was prepared; while the Quirino volumes do not include the final year or so, of his administration.

As you can see, for this official series of volumes alone, the situation is problematic. For Quezon, the final period before the outbreak of the war, and the war years themselves, officially speaking, have never been fully compiled. The same applies to Osmeña. Roxas' official record remains unfinished, too; and the Republic's situation is even worse: the series of volumes was not continued by Magsaysay or his successors. President Aquino, almost alone of the postwar presidents, had an official compilation of her public papers, but again, the final year was never compiled.

We have proposed to the President, and he has approved, that the Messages of the President series of volumes be restarted, and this includes the long-overdue work of compiling what should be the official papers of each of our presidents. This will, of course, require a massive effort, one that will require the participation of the various foundations that exist covering our former chief executives, not to mention the National Historical Commission, the National Library, and private and public institutions of learning working with the Presidential Museum and Library and the office in which I serve.

The raw material is there, and many editorial decisions that might be problematic –how can a proper determination of documents to be included in the official compilations be made, long after the principals have died? – have actually been solved, and at the time. The Official Gazette, particularly the postwar volumes, contains precisely not only the executive issuances of the presidents, but their statements, selected correspondence, and speeches, as well, together with an official chronicle that serves as the definitive official account of the various administrations: at first monthly (The Official Month in Review) and then, starting with Magsaysay, weekly (The Official Week in Review), until, at least, the proclamation of martial law.

The period of World War II, however, is a problem, due to scarcity of materials –I understand an Official Gazette was published by the government-in-exile[12], but we have yet to find copies- and may require more involved editorial decisions, with the template of the prewar Messages of the President as a guide.

For the postwar years of the Commonwealth, there are rare exceptions when the official record, as published in the Gazette, did not include particular documents, considered classified: the problem, as we have found out, is that the classification endures unless otherwise determined, and procedures are still being proposed for adoption in this regard.

The Gazette, with the onset of martial law, becomes more problematic as a source of documents whose inclusion in the official papers of a president can be deemed properly vetted at the time. At this point it is only a theory, but it seems to me that with the elimination of all institutional checks-and-balances on the presidency, after martial law there was little incentive for the official record to be thorough. I would also add another theory, which is that the period of martial law also coincided with the retirement or dismissal of those who'd served continuously in the Executive Office since the time of the Commonwealth.

However, there were many other compilations of official documents and state papers that should fill in whatever gaps may exist; though this does not solve the problem of identifying and including, secret decrees and other controversial material, even if of an official nature.

But first things first. The modern presidency began with the Commonwealth; whether one likes it or not, the institutional foundations and traditions of the office were put in place in that era and have, remarkably, endured. The official record –the official papers- of an administration gives an insight into what that administration considered important. It summarizes what each administration believed constituted its legacy and, by extension, where it considered itself accountable.

In this regard, I must pay tribute to the tireless efforts of the Presidential Library and Museum, which has completed the encoding of all the executive issuances and other official papers of President Roxas. We are in the process of uploading these in the online edition of the Official Gazette, while another interesting project, the scanning and uploading for public access, of these documents on the Presidential Library and Museum's forthcoming website, is in the final planning stages.

The absence of a complete and comprehensive record, of a final official compilation of official papers, for the three presidents of the Commonwealth, is a tangible, that is, physical, manifestation of how either scrutiny or judgment can only be provisional so long as these compilations remain incomplete. This cannot be done overnight; yet it can be done with thoroughness and dispatch –and since, institutionally and politically, every era affects the next, we can surely strive to achieve a completeness in this regard, whether or the 85th anniversary of the Commonwealth or the 75th anniversary of our independence in 1946.

Thank you.

[1] Teodoro M. Kalaw, Aide-de-Camp to Freedom, Teodoro M.Kalaw Society, 1965.

[2] Francis Burton Harrison, diary entry for December 23, 1938, in Origins of the Philippine Republic: Extracts from the Diaries and Records of Francis Burton Harrison, Cornell University, 1974.

[3] Rigoberto Tiglao, "Learning from Indonesia," Philippine Daily Inquirer, November 10, 2010.

[4] Manuel L. Quezon III, "The future of Asia: Whither Nation or State?", paper delivered at the Asian Thought Leaders Forum, Singpore on December 3, 2008, accessible online at http://www.quezon.ph/2008/12/03/the-f...

[5] Manuel L. Quezon III, "Elections are like Water," Perspectives, PCIJ Special Election Issue, May 7, 2004, accessible online at http://www.pcij.org/imag/2004Election...

[6] Manuel L. Quezon III, "The perpetual avoidance of opportunity," In Pursuit of the Philippine Competitive Edge: An Oral History of a Continuing Journey by 50 wisdom-keepers, AIM Policy Center, 2007, accessible online at http://www.quezon.ph/2007/12/19/book-...

[7] Randy David, "Political Change," Philippine Daily Inquirer, March 12, 2010.

[8] Nick Cullather, Illusions of influence: The political economy of United States-Philippine relations 1942-1960, Stanford University Press, 1994.

[9] William Gueraiche, Manuel Quezon: Les Philippines de la decolonisation a la democratisation, Maisonneuve & Larose, 2004.

[10] Al McCoy, Policing America's Empire: The United States, the Philippines, and the Rise of the Surveillance State, University of Wisconsin Press, 2009.

[11] The Presidential Library and Museum identifies the Messages of the President series under Quezon as including the following:

Volume 1:  Speeches, Messages to the National Assembly, Addresses, etc. for 1935, EOs 1-7, Procs. 1-17, Commonwealth Acts 1-19 (1935)

Volume 2 Part 1:  Speeches, etc., EOs 8-75, Procs. 18-118, AOs 1-29  (1936)

Volume 2 Part 2:  CA 20-232

Volume 3 Part 1:  Speeches, etc. (1937)

Volume 3 Part 2:  CA 233-253, EOs 76-137, Procs. 119-242, AOs 30-58

Volume 4 Part 1:  Speeches, etc., EOs 138-179, Procs. 243- 364, AOs 58-84, General Orders 1-4 (1939)

Volume 4 Part 2:  CA 254-412

Volume 5 Part 1:  Speeches, etc., EOs 180-247, Procs. 365-503, AOs 85-116, GOs 5-10 (1940)

Volume 5 Part 2:  CA 413-512

The Roxas volume is not entitled Messages of the President, but Important speeches, messages and other pronouncements of President Manuel Roxas published in 1947.  This collection only includes speeches until May 1947, and important addresses during his tenure as Senate President.  A two-volume compilation was published in 1954, pursuant to RA 345, and entitled Papers, Addresses and Other Writings of Manuel Roxas, with Volume 1 subtitled Speeches, Addresses and Messages as President of the Philippines: January 1946 to February 1, 1947.  The second volume contains speeches until his death on April 15, 1948.  Apparently, this too is incomplete, as it does not

contain papers and other writings.

The first Quirino volume is entitled The New Philippine Ideology published in 1949, and may be considered as Volume VII of the series.  The continuation of the series is entitled Messages of the President, with volumes VIII and IX published in 1950 and 1951, respectively.  The Quirino volumes do not include executive issuances and republic acts.

[12] Elizabeth L. Enriquez, footnote 131 in Chapter 4, Appropriation of Colonial Broadcasting: A history of early radio in the Philippines, 1922-1946, University of the Philippines Press, 2008.

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Reaction to Marites Vitug's Genaro V. Ong Lecture

CFA 1st Annual Genaro V. Ong Lecture

CFA Lagerwey Hall

July 30, 2010

(Response to Taking Sides: Advocacy Journalism and Good Governance by Marites Dañguilan Vitug)

Manuel L. Quezon III

Please accept my deepest apologies for not being able to join you today… Let me add, by way of a caveat I've increasingly had to resort to as part of my adjusting to public service, that what follows are my thoughts and not in any way a reflection of official policy. After all, as of now I still do not have a formal appointment.

For the sake of brevity, allow me to refer you to a recent talk I on the subject of "New Media and Democracy." To the points I've raised in that talk, I'd only like to add two things.

First, there is a generation gap within media, where there is a generation of veterans in their forties to sixties (and above) in senior positions and a much younger successor-generation in their twenties or early thirties: but there seems to be a missing generation, in their mid thirties to mid forties, who have found careers overseas. With regards to many of the life lessons and even ethical and career assumptions Marites has mentioned in her talk –how many among the successor-generation share them? This is something that calls for sober reflection in newsrooms and editorial offices.

Second, the crisis of readership and viewership. Add to this the trend in recent scientific studies that suggest, though do not, as of now, definitely prove, a change in the way people consume and absorb information. The kind of reportage Marites discusses –itself an evolutionary process for the individual journalist as it is a developing story, so to speak, in terms of the media itself- requires a citizenry with a vigorous civic sense if what is written or reported or broadcast is to have any positive effect. Underlying the efforts of the journalist is the assumption not one, but three, audiences will respond: government itself, the public at large, and colleagues in the profession. How much time do people really spend, not just reading, but thinking? This is the other thing that calls for sober reflection.

Since I personally believe everything is informed by one's political persuasions, it is neither relevant nor necessary to discuss the inevitable clashes that will occur between those in government and those outside it, with regards to information. The reason is ethics, where a an ethical media engaging an ethical-minded government should have nothing to fear, and everything to gain, from an open relationship and the sharing of information on sensible grounds. Though of course the devil is in the details and what constitutes "sensible grounds" is really the subject of endless –but hopefully fruitful- debate.

Let me just close by pointing out the value of talks like the one given by Marites. It provides what is sorely missing in virtually all aspects of our national life, as our society becomes increasingly young, enraptured by novelties, and, if anything is still shared by Filipinos from all walks of life, communally worships at the altar of celebrity. And that is: mentorship.

Precisely because there is a generation gap, where the hard-earned lessons of the past could so richly inform the present and future; and because the way people access and understand information is changing, those who have something to teach have to seize absolutely every single teaching moment available to them. This is one such teaching moment, with the bittersweet aspect of a kind of hand-holding among a relative few compared to the ever-increasing many who may find sessions such as this one, rather puzzling if not outright quaint.

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The Long View: Transition

The Long View

Transition

By Manuel L. Quezon III

Philippine Daily Inquirer

First Posted 05:12:00 07/12/2010

The time has come to bid my readers farewell. I have accepted the President's invitation to become a member of his communications team. My specific functions will focus on strategic planning in terms of messaging (including market research and polling), as well as editorial aspects of official communications, which in turn ranges from editorial guidelines and policies in general, to the Official Gazette in particular (bringing it from the 20th to the 21st Century), to corporate identity and institutional memory.

In the coming days, you will be reading more about this in the news section of this paper, so let me put forward a valedictory of sorts for this space.

This column began with an invitation from Eugenia Apostol to meet her at her residence; at the time I was a columnist for Today newspaper (on my 10th year of column and editorial-writing), and was serving as the head of the presidential museum. All the big guns of the Inquirer were there, from the editor in chief, Letty Magsanoc, to the publisher, Isagani Yambot, and my soon-to-be boss, Jorge Aruta. All were extremely warm, and soon enough, I received an invitation to join this paper.

This column began in February 2004; I started off as a contributing editor and was subsequently given the responsibility to head the Speakers' Bureau. From the very start, management was supportive of my other engagements, whether in terms of continuing my work at the Philippines Free Press, or becoming the host of ANC's "The Explainer," or even serving as a lecturer at the Colegio de San Juan de Letran.

Together with my colleague John Nery, INQUIRER.net also gave us the opportunity to set up a blog, which we experimented with as a means to flesh out our columns, as well as tackle other issues in between deadlines. Just a few months ago, as the Inquirer Group began preparing to enter the field of radio broadcasting, I received an invitation to host a radio show, "Quezon's Avenue," which began shortly after the May 10 elections.

It's been six years of learning, and the learning never stopped: but now it's time to try something else.

I have been fortunate in having the best mentors anyone could ask for when it comes to writing or broadcasting: Teodoro L. Locsin Jr. who was my boss for a whole decade, his brother Enrique Locsin who has been every bit as kind in the Philippines Free Press; my bosses and colleagues in ANC, from Maria Ressa to Glenda Gloria and my producer, Twink Macaraig.

The Inquirer, for its part, has been a true family to me, concerned about every aspect of every employee's wellbeing. The benefits of its employees are in many ways the gold standard for the industry because of the cooperation between labor and management; the paper's president, Sandy Prieto-Romualdez, has been a true servant-leader, one who consults and doesn't decree. There are those whose names, like Tintin, Tess and Emman—who, day in and day out, made sure we met our deadlines, who informed us of events, even took on the task of coordinating messages and invitations—only surface in these pages when it's time to say farewell: but then, that only shows how so much that's good, tireless and decent in this paper takes place behind the scenes.

I cannot speak highly enough of my editor, Jorge Aruta, not only because he's been my boss, but because of the kind of boss he's been: considerate, and with what I can only say is one of the lightest—yet deftest—touches as an editor. For better or worse, I can say you've gotten to read more of what I want to say, in the style and manner I want, thanks to him. He was always willing to introduce innovations into the otherwise cut-and-dried format of the opinion column: such as the introduction of pictures, or various column styles. He has been a democratic editor, as the often fierce clash of opinions within these pages can attest.

All my professional life in media has been spent in the Opinion Section: it essentially requires the writer to take a stand on every pressing issue of the day and to proceed from day to day explaining to the reader why the issues are issues: but only you, the reader, can judge whether I have managed to provide an informed opinion, regardless of whether or not you agree with me sometimes, all the time, or never. I'd had the privilege of being recognized for column-writing back in 1994; I am grateful that my efforts in this space were recognized by the Rotary Club of Manila's Journalism Awards, with the Opinion Writer of the Year award for 2005.

Since the EDSA Revolution, this newspaper has been the journal of record for the life and times of what the INQUIRER editorialists always remind us is our "ongoing democratic project." The issues of the day are debated in these opinion pages; and it is the supreme achievement of any opinion writer to join the ranks of the columnists of this paper.

So it is with the heaviest of heavy hearts that I bid this space farewell; it is a consolation, of course, to say that duty calls; but then, this column was a duty, too, and one that every columnist—and every reader, I hope—knows to be as important, and even more important, than any temporary designation or assignment in any other field of endeavor. Therefore I cannot say I am relinquishing this space to answer a higher calling; it is only a different one.

I have tried to illuminate, to explain, to understand and be understood; I have tried to entertain, to illustrate and to share the anger and joy, the indignation and optimism, that marks the beating of our collective, public, pulse. To those I have hurt, my apologies; to those who have shared my opinions, my thanks; to all my readers, my deepest gratitude for sharing your thoughts and time.

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Notes on the Aquino Inaugural

From Malacanan

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,

Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:-

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

-Thomas Gray, "Elegy Written in a Country Church-Yard."

Thanks to Arnold Clavio and Vicky Morales, I was able to watch their network's coverage of President-elect Aquino leaving his Time Street residence, dressed in a long-sleeved camisa chino. By the time his convoy (which stopped at red lights) reached the Palace, he was already dressed in a baro. The trip from Times St. to the Palace took something like 15 minutes instead of the close to an hour originally allocated according to the Official Program.

The President-elect alighted from his vehicle at Bonifacio Hall (usually referred to by its old name, the Premier Guesthouse), where President Corazon Aquino held office and where her son will also hold office. Meanwhile, over at the Palace, the outgoing cabinet hung around the "Pacto de Sangre" of Luna near the main stairs, waiting for President Arroyo. President Arroyo, dressed in an ecru terno, then shook hands with her departing official family and undertook descending the main stairs for the last time as President of the Philippines.

President Arroyo and President-elect Aquino then shook hands and departed for the Quirino Grandstand. In the coming days, people will be asking them what (if anything) they said to each other during their brief car ride to Rizal Park.

A cheerful roar came from the crowd when the presidential convoy arrived, and upon alighting from Car No. 1, the two went to their respective daises, for the military rendering its last honors to President Arroyo.

The "President's March" was played, a 21 gun salut boomed out, and President Arroyo proceeded to review the troops as the band played "Atin Cu Pung Singsing."

As the military honors were being given, the Vice President-elect's special electric jeep arrived, and there's been some undue controversy over this. Some people took it to mean the Vice President-elect barged in on the scene to steal the show.

At the time, I thought it was bungling of the protocol; the Vice President-elect is supposed to arrive ahead of the President-elect (as has been the tradition since the 1949 Quirino Inaugural; at the Quezon inaugural in 1935 the President-elect arrived ahead of the Vice President-elect).

What seems to have happened was this. The Presidential Party arrived about twenty minutes ahead of schedule -and it was the Vice President-elect who actually arrived on cue.

I noticed that what the Vice President-elect chose to do was the correct thing: he waited in his vehicle for the military honors to conclude, and with it, President Arroyo shaking hands with President-elect Aquino, and then getting into her private vehicle: at which point the President-elect went up to the ceremonial platform. Because of the circumstances surrounding the early arrival of the Presidential Party and the arrival of the Vice President-elect, it would have been unseemly for him to sprint up ahead of the President-elect; so he went up after the President-elect.

All in all, it was a courteous solution to an unintended snafu.

An interesting note was the reaction of the crowd -the official set crowding the bleachers of the Grandstand, and the public gathered across the Grandstand- to President Arroyo's arrival and throughout the Military Honors portion.

I can't say people jeered, or booed (at least from my vantage point) but there was a kind of highly enthusiastic applause that became particularly cheerful first, when she arrived, second, when the final honors began, then when she trooped the line and finally, when she shook hands with the President-elect and when her convoy departed. I did hear many people lustily saying "goodbye!"

Another interesting note is that some reporters told me President Arroyo twice refused to shake hands with President-elect Aquino at the Quirino Grandstand; I haven't seen the footage and couldn't see their interaction from my vantage point.

The Inaugural Program then commenced with an extremely moving rendition of the national anthem featuring Charice Pempengco and the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of Ryan Cayabyab. This was followed by the invocation.

The Madrigal Singers sang "Bayan Ko," and then the Apo Hiking Society performed a song, and then Ogie Alcasid and friends performed the Inaugural Song.

At this point, the Senate President rose to read (with great vigor) the dispositive portions of the Proclamation of Congress announcing the results of the election. This was supposed to be followed by the oath-taking of the Vice President-elect, then the President-elect's oath taking, followed by the military giving a salute and then the Inaugural Address.

Originally, the ceremonial to be followed conformed to tradition: no musical number was supposed to follow the Senate President; then a musical medley was inserted, then, upon the reiteration of the protocol to be followed, the song numbers were moved so that they would precede the Senate President's reading.

However, since the whole thing started ahead of time, there would have been something like a 45 minute gap between the reading of the proclamation and the administration of the oaths of office, since as much as possible the President-elect is supposed to take his oath or conclude it, at high noon.

So the organizers improvised (this also happened during the Ramos Inaugural), to stretch things out for the purposes of the time specified by the Constitution. Personally, I think all the singing added a festive element to the proceedings and the public generally enjoyed themselves.

The Vice President-elect then took his oath, followed by the President-elect. A bystander told me the President finished taking his oath a few minutes before noon (this has happened in previous inaugurals). At this point, the military band kicked in, with its four ruffles and flourishes followed by "Mabuhay," as a 21 gun salute boomed out; two choppers thundered overhead and scattered yellow flower petals over the crowd, which was a pretty sight indeed.

Then the President delivered his Inaugural Address. With introduction, applause, pauses, the speech ended up 21 minutes long.

After volunteers read their "Panata sa Pagbabago," President Aquino was then given honors by the armed forces, and inspected the honor guard. He then proceeded to the Palace.

Then things started running behind schedule; he inducted his cabinet into office at around 3:20 PM. He then began his first cabinet meeting.

Tonight, there will be an Inaugural Reception for foreign delegations and the diplomatic corps and other officials who will pay their respects to the new chief executive. First comes the sole visiting head of state, the President of East Timor, followed by foreign delegations, the diplomatic corps, and other officials and guests. The President receives the visitors in the Music Room, where they are presented to the President individually. After extending their congratulations to the President, guests proceed to Rizal Hall where cocktails are served.

When all guests have had a chance to be presented to the President, he proceeds to Rizal Hall, where he will deliver a short speech and offer a toast to the delegations, diplomats, and dignitaries.

After that, he will go to attend the Inaugural Concert at the Quezon Memorial Circle.

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Briefing on the Inaugural (final update)

Official Program Aquino Inaugural (Excerpts)

Briefing on the protocol, ceremonial, and symbolism of the Aquino Inaugural

Prepared by Manuel L. Quezon III

(updated June 28, 2010)

Here are the relevant portions of the Official Program.

I have compiled some useful photos of past inaugurals, as well as useful photos of Malacañan Palace. The Inaugural Addresses of our presidents are available on Wikisource. Other useful data are results of past presidential elections, results of past vice presidential elections, and the inaugural programs for the Quezon (1935), Roxas (1946), Quirino (1949), Magsaysay (1953), Marcos (1981), Ramos, Estrada and Arroyo inaugurals. Also, the official accounts of the Magsaysay, Macapagal (1961) and Marcos (1965 and 1969) inaugurals. Please visit my blog www.quezon.ph for links to these.

Inaugural venues: Legislative Building, Manila (Quezon, 1935; Laurel, 1943; Roxas, May, 1946); Independence Grandstand (fronting Rizal Monument), Roxas, July, 1946; Independence Grandstand (renamed Quirino Grandstand): Quirino, 1949; Magsaysay, 1953; Garcia, 1957; Macapagal, 1961; Marcos, 1965, 1969, 1981; Ramos, 1998. Club Filipino, San Juan, Aquino, 1986; Executive Building (Kalayaan Hall), Malacañan Palace, Marcos, 1986. The inaugural addresses of Estrada, 1998, and Arroyo, 2004, were delivered at the Quirino Grandstand.

Inaugural venues outside Manila: Barasoian Church in 1899 (Aguinaldo) and 1998 (Estrada); Corregidor in 1941 (Quezon); Cebu City in 2004 (Arroyo).

Number of inaugurals: Marcos (December 30, 1965 and 1969; June 30, 1981; February 25, 1986); Quezon (November 15, 1935, December 30, 1941; retook oath of office again on November 15, 1935 in Washington, D.C.); Roxas (May 28 and July 4, 1946). Only President Osmeña, who succeeded into office on August 1, 1946 but who lost the election of 1946, and President Corazon Aquino who was inducted into office under revolutionary circumstances in 1986, never had a formal inaugural.

President:
Date:
Location:
Oath by:
Notes:


Emilio Aguinaldo
January 23, 1899
Barasoian Church, Malolos
Speaker
Inaugural


Manuel L. Quezon
November 15, 1935
Legislative Building, Manila
Chief Justice Ramon Avancena
Inaugural


Manuel L. Quezon
December 30, 1941
Corregidor
Chief Justice Jose Abad Santos
Inaugural


Jose P. Laurel
October 23, 1943
Legislative Building, Manila
Chief Justice Jose Yulo
Inaugural


Manuel L. Quezon
November 15, 1943
Washington, D.C.
(U.S.) Associate Justice Felix Frankfurter
Upon emergency wartime extension of term of office


Sergio Osmeña
August 1, 1944
Washington, D.C.
(U.S.) Associate Justice Robert Jackson
Upon death of Pres. Quezon


Manuel Roxas
May 28, 1946
Legislative Building, Manila
Chief Justice Manuel Moran
Inaugural


Manuel Roxas
July 4, 1946
Independence Grandstand
Chief Justice Manuel Moran
Retook oath after removal of pledge of allegiance to U.S.


Elpidio Quirino
April, 1948
Council of State Room, Executive Building, Malacañan Palace
Chief Justice Manuel Moran
Upon death of Pres. Roxas


Elpidio Quirino
December 30, 1949
Independence Grandstand (new)
Chief Justice Manuel Moran
Inaugural


Ramon Magsaysay
December 30, 1953
Independence Grandstand (new)
Chief Justice Ricardo Paras
Inaugural


Carlos P. Garcia
March, 1957
Council of State Room, Executive Building, Malacañan Palace
Chief Justice Ricardo Paras
Upon death of Pres. Magsaysay


Carlos P. Garcia
December 30, 1957
Independence Grandstand (new)
Chief Justice Ricardo Paras
Inaugural


Diosdado Macapagal
December 30, 1961
Independence Grandstand (new)
Chief Justice Cesar Bengzon
Inaugural


Ferdinand E. Marcos
December 30, 1965
Independence Grandstand (new)
Chief Justice Cesar Bengzon
Inaugural


Ferdinand E. Marcos
December 30, 1969
Independence Grandstand (new)
Chief Justice Roberto Concepcion
Inaugural


Ferdinand E. Marcos
June 30, 1981
Independence Grandstand (new)
Chief Justice Enrique Fernando
Inaugural


Ferdinand E. Marcos
February 25, 1986
Executive Building, Malacañan Palace
Chief Justice Ramon Aquino
Emergency oath-taking


Corazon C. Aquino
February 25, 1986
Club Filipino, San Juan
Associate Justice Claudio Teehankee
Emergency oath-taking


Fidel V. Ramos
June 30, 1992
Quirino Grandstand (formerly Independence Grandstand)
Chief Justice Andres Narvasa
Inaugural


Joseph Ejercito Estrada
June 30, 1998
Barasoian Church, Malolos
Chief Justice Andres Narvasa
Inaugural


Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo
January 21, 2001
Edsa Shrine, Quezon City
Chief Justice Hilario Davide Jr.
Emergency oath-taking


Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo
June 30, 2004
Cebu Provincial Capitol, Cabu City
Chief Justice Hilario Davide Jr.
Inaugural


Benigno S. Aquino III
June 30, 2010
Quirino Grandstand (formerly Independence Grandstand)
Associate Justice Conchita Carpio-Morales
Inaugural



Inauguration Day, flow of events:

Benigno S. Aquino III will be the fifth president to take his oath of office on June 30: Marcos, Ramos, Estrada and Arroyo being the others. He will be the 15th President of the Philippines, but he is the fifth president of the Fifth Republic of the Philippines.

The constitutional title of the chief executive is "President of the Philippines." While "President of the Republic of the Philippines" sounds nicer, it is incorrect, and used only in the 1943 and 1973 Constitutions.

Malacañang and Malacañan Palace, which one? Malacañang is the Office of the President of the Philippines, a term that officially dates to the Magsaysay adminstration. Malacañan Palace is the traditional spelling, and refers to the historic structure and official residence of the President of the Philippines.

Starting with Quezon's second inaugural in 1941 until Marcos' second inaugural in 1969 (with the exception of the special election called in 1946) presidents were inaugurated on Rizal Day, June 30. Six presidents Quezon (1941), Quirino (1949), Magsaysay, Garcia (1957), Macapagal, Marcos (1965, 1969) had inaugurals on December 30.

6-9:00 AM Prayer services by different Religious Faiths throughout the Philippines.


9:00 AM Assembly of the general public at Rizal Park.
Arrival of officials and distinguished guests at the Quirino Grandstand
Departure of President-elect Benigno S. Aquino III from his residence at Times Street, Quezon City, for Malacañan Palace.

According to Raul S. Gonzales, who was the Press Secretary of President Macapagal:

….continuity of government was demonstrated by having a bi-partisan committee of (officials) pick up the president-elect in his residence and take him to Malacañan. From there, the incumbent President and the incoming one, along with one member of the committee,board the presidential car for the ride to then Independence grandstand where the old and the new part ways. Ninoy Aquino was in the committee which picked up Macapagal at his mother in law's house on Laura Street San Juan on December 30, 1961 to escort him to Malacañan to fetch President Garcia for the ride to the Luneta. Ninoy was also among those who fetched Marcos at his Ortega Street residence also in San Juan December 30, 1965 to pick up Macapagal at Malacañan. He rode with Marcos and Macapagal in the car that ultimately took Macapagal to retirement, Marcos to Makiki Heights and him, Ninoy to the tarmac of the airport which now bears his name.

9:45 AM Officials and distinguished guests with assigned seats will occupy their respective places at the Quirino Grandstand.


10:05 AM Arrival of Mrs. Jejomar C. Binay at the Quirino Grandstand

The families of the President-elect and Vice President-elect will arrive at the Quirino Grandstand ahead of the President-elect and Vice-President elect.

10:15 AM Arrival of the President-elect at Malacañan Palace.

This is a tradition that dates back to the inauguration of President Manuel Roxas, the first transfer of power from an incumbent (President Osmeña) to a president-elect (Roxas) who was his rival for the presidency.

10:25 AM Arrival of the Aquino family at the Quirino Grandstand.
10:30 AM Departure of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and President-elect Benigno S. Aquino III from Malacañan Palace.

The departure of the President, accompanied by the President-elect, marks the formal act of leaving office for the incumbent, who thus descends the stairs of the Palace for the last time. The President-elect will, of course, then mark the start of his presidency by climbing the same stairs later in the day.

10:35 AM Arrival of Vice President-elect Jejomar C. Binay at the Quirino Grandstand.
10:45 AM Arrival of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and President-elect Benigno S. Aquino III at the Quirino Grandstand.

Aquino will be the seventh president to be inaugurated at the Quirino Grandstand. Six presidents were inaugurated at the Quirino Grandstand previously: Quirino (1949), Magsaysay (1953), Garcia (1957), Macapagal (1961), Marcos (1965, etc.), Ramos (1992).

10:50 AM Honors for President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.

A twenty-one gun salute, accompanied by the honor guard presenting arms, and four ruffles (drumrolls) and flourishes (trumpet blasts) and the playing of the national anthemwill accompany the arrival of the President and the President-elect. This is the last time the AFP renders honors to the incumbent President as head of state. The incumbent President will troop the line and receive the salute of the honor guard and bid farewell to the major service commanders.

Only President Osmeña in 1946, President Aquino in 1992, and President Ramos in 1998, attended the inaugurals of their successors. Osmeña attended because it was the first time power was to be transferred from one party to another; Aquino, to symbolize the first peaceful and constitutional transfer of power since 1969; and Ramos as part of the centennial celebrations of 1998.

11:05 AM Departure of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. President-elect Aquino and Vice President Elect Binay to be accompanied to the ceremonial platform by the Inaugural Committee.

This is a tradition that dates back to the inauguration of President Magsaysay in 1953, and followed in the Macapagal and Marcos inaugurals in 1961 and 1965. The symbolism is that the old administration has come to an end, and the new one begins. Ideally, as per tradition, at the moment the President-elect takes his oath as President at 12 noon, the incumbent is already at home to mark his reverting to being an ordinary citizen.

The Inaugural Ceremonies Proper:

11:10 AM National Anthem, to be sung by Charice Pempengco and the Madrigal Singers, music by the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra.

11:15 AM Ecumenical Invocation.

From 1935 until 1969, the highest-ranking prelate of the Catholic Church traditionally delivered the invocation. President Marcos was the first President to have an ecumenical invocation in 1981.

Songs: "Bayan Ko," performed by the Madrigal Singers.

"Minamahal Kong Bayan," performed by the Apo Hiking Society.

Musical Ensemble: Inaugural song, "Bayang Pilipinas," by Ogie Alcasid, Noel Cabangon, Christian Bautista, Jed Madela, Mae Paner, Jim Paredes, Gary Valenciano and Gail.

11:45 AM Reading by the President of the Senate of the Proclamation by the Congress of the Philippines announcing the results of the elections in the Philippines.

This is a practice established with the Commonwealth inauguration in 1935, and last undertaken in 1969, although a similar proclamation was read proclaiming the New Republic, in 1981. The Senate President traditionally reads the proclamation, which is the final official act of the 14th Congress. It provides the democratic and constitutional basis for the mandate of the individuals about to be inducted into office, and represents the legislative branch of government witnessing the inaugural of the executive branch. The Senate President does so as the head of the portion of the legislature that is considered a continuing body.

11:50 AM Administration of the Oath of Office to the Honorable Jejomar C. Binay, Vice President-elect of the Philippines, by Associate Justice Conchita Carpio-Morales.

The Vice President-elect will take his oath in Filipino, the bible will be held by his wife, Dr. Elenita S. Binay.

Four ruffles and flourishes will be rendered by the Armed Forces of the Philippines immediately upon the conclusion of the Vice-President's oath of office.

The public will rise and remain standing throughout the oath-taking ceremonies of the Vice President and the President. The public will be seated upon the commencement of the President's Inaugural Address.

12:00 Noon: Administration of the Oath of Office to the Honorable Benigno S. Aquino III, President-elect of the Philippines, by Associate Justice Conchita Carpio-Morales.

In 1899, the oath was administered by the Speaker of the Malolos Congress, since President Aguinaldo was elected by Congress. Since 1935, the judicial branch of government witnesses and participates in, the inauguration in this manner.

From Aguinaldo to Quirino, presidents did not swear on the bible, a legacy of the Revolution of 1896 and the separation of Church and State. President Magsaysay was the first president to swear on the bible, in fact using two, one from his father's and mother's branch of the family. The bibles were placed on the lectern. In 1957, Bohol Governor Juan Pajo held the bible as Carlos P. Garcia took his oath. President Marcos, in 1965, also swore on two bibles, one from his father, the other a gift from his wife.

Aguinaldo took his oath in Spanish. Quezon, Osmeña, Roxas, Quirino, Magsaysay, Garcia, Macapagal, Corazon Aquino, and Arroyo took their oath in English. Laurel, Marcos, Ramos, Estrada took their oath in Filipino.

At the conclusion of the oath of office, a 21 gun salute, four ruffles (drumrolls) and flourishes (trumpet blasts), and the playing of "Mabuhay," the presidential anthem composed by Tirso Cruz Sr. and used since the Quezon administration, takes place.

"Mabuhay" was composed by bandleader Tirso Cruz Sr. (grandfather of actor Tirso Cruz III) and adopted by President Quezon as the presidential anthem during the Commonwealth. It has been used by presidents ever since.

Associate Justice will be the second Filipino Associate Justice to administer the oath of office, although this is the fourth time an associate justice has administered the oath of office to a Philippine president (this happened twice during the period in exile of the Commonwealth Government, and once during the revolutionary oath taking by Corazon C. Aquino).

The oath of office of the President of the Philippines has remained unchanged since 1935:

I do solemnly swear [or affirm] that I will faithfully and conscientiously fulfill my duties as President [or Vice-President or Acting President] of the Philippines, preserve and defend its Constitution, execute its laws, do justice to every man, and consecrate myself to the service of the Nation. So help me God." [In case of affirmation, last sentence will be omitted]

In Filipino:

Matimtim kong pinanunumpaan (o pinatotohanan) na tutuparin ko nang buong katapatan at sigasig ang aking mga tungkulin bilang Pangulo (o Pangalawang Pangulo o Nanunungkulang Pangulo) ng Pilipinas, pangangalagaan at ipagtatanggol ang kanyang Konstitusyon, ipatutupad ang mga batas nito, magiging makatarungan sa bawat tao, at itatalaga ang aking sarili sa paglilingkod sa Bansa. Kasihan nawa ako ng Diyos." (Kapag pagpapatotoo, ang huling pangungusap ay kakaltasin.)

Note that the Constitution specifies the title of the chief executive as President of the Philippines, not President of the Republic of the Philippines, which is only used in certain diplomatic documents.

Inaugural Address by His Excellency Benigno S. Aquino III, President of the Philippines.

Aquino will be the ninth president to deliver his inaugural address at the Quirino Grandstand (Estrada and Arroyo were sworn into office elsewhere but delivered their inaugural address at the Quirino Grandstand in 1998 and 2004).

Shortest inaugural address in a regular inaugural: Ramon Magsaysay on December 30, 1953, 8 minutes in duration. Corazon Aquino's in 1986 was even shorter (but under emergency circumstances).

Here is an extract from J. Eduardo Malaya & Jonathan E. Malaya, …So Help Us God: The Presidents of the Philippines and Their Inaugural Addresses, Anvil Publishing 2004:

Presidents write their speeches, or are presumed by the public to do so. Most, in fact, did…

Mariano Ezpeleta, legislative secretary to Roxas, described the drafting of the 1947 State of the Nation Address in his memoirs…

Ezpeleta and Jorge Bocobo, Roxas's law professor at the University of the Philippines, were then asked by the president to go over the text as "corrector de estilo" (editor):

"We went over the speech. We changed some words, phrases, sentences and idioms to conform to what we know the president was used to in speaking. The gist of the speech, we kept intact. Dr. Bocobo suggested that we put in at the very last, a forceful and eloquent paragraph, in the nature of a climax. It took us rather long to agree on this climactic masterpiece…

"I gave the speech to the president the next day. Afterwards, he returned the speech to me for his stenographer to put in clean. I looked at the draft for any correction. There was none, except that the last climactic paragraph we added with so much effort, was canceled with the comment 'not necessary.'"…

The challenge for speechwriters is to craft the speech as the president would do so, in the latter's style: Does he speak in a formal or conversational tone? In a concrete and linear way, or circular and abstract? In short, direct sentences, or long-winded paragraphs? Does he refer to himself in the first-person, with lots of the pronoun "I", or in the impersonal third person tone? Are his lines gentle or sharp-edged? With humor, self-deprecation or in all seriousness? If he thinks and speaks in some way, then the text should be drafted in the same manner.

The speech ought to reflect the chief executive's thought processes and style of speaking, otherwise, it will sound artificial. The speech will convince no one that it is the president speaking. It is, after all, no one else's but the president's. "Find the voice of the person you're writing for," advised Peggy Noonan, speechwriter to Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush.

Eight of the fourteen Philippine presidents, from Quezon to Marcos, were lawyers and had extensive government experience. They tended to think and speak in concrete, linear, often stentorian ways. In contrast, Magsaysay had an aversion to big words. Recalled Narciso Reyes, a one-time speechwriter to Magsaysay… the guideline given them was to "simplify, simply," to be in accord with the president's style.

The speechwriting process has traditionally been kept out of the public view, and speechwriters rarely claim credit for their works. After all, what is important is the "finished product" -the words as delivered by the president. In time, the identities of the most likely wordsmiths usually surface. Quezon was a rugged individualist and a brilliant extemporaneous speaker,but he had prepared texts for important occasions. His chief speechwriter was the jurist Jose Abad Santos. Jose Reyes, executive secretary to Osmena, doubled as his speechwriter. Federico Mangahas, a noted writer-journalist, wrote not only for Roxas but also for his successor Quirino.Mangahas, with the assistance of Juan Collas, Quirino's private secretary, is said to have drafted most of Quirino's "fireside chats" to the nation.

Magsaysay's stirring inaugural speech is credited to diplomat-writer Leon Ma. Guerrero. Raul Manglapus… also wrote some of Magsaysay's later speeches. Rufino Hechanova, Rodrigo Perez, and Vicente Albano Pacis are said to have helped in drafting Macapagal's inaugural speech. Marcos had a stable of fine wordsmiths, many drawn from literary and journalism circles, notably Adrian Cristobal, Krip Yuson, Francisco "Kit" Tatad, and Blas Ople.

Most of Aquino's major speeches were written by Presidential Spokesman Teodoro L. Locsin, Jr. including her memorable address "Restoring Democracy by the Ways of Democracy" before the U.S. Congress…

Locsin described the relationship between the president and the speechwriter in his foreword to a collection of selected Aquino speeches:

"I am credited with the writing of some of these speehes that she alone could have inspired, instructed, and delivered with the intended effect. They could not have been written for anyone else because they express what she thought and what she felt, what she believed in. Not a line, not a word, in a draft did not originate in a thought or feeling of hers, and none remained that she had not carefully pondered and accepted."

In essence, the task of putting policy and governance into words and phrases is a process which is solitary and personal to the chief executive. The speech is his or hers alone and no one else's.

At the conclusion of the Inaugural address, the public will rise and recite the Panata sa Pagbabago.

Panata sa Pagbabago.

This is the innovation in the 2010 inaugural ceremonies. It is meant to respond to the President's inaugural address by volunteers and the public at large pledging their support and participation in the democratic governance of the nation.

Conclusion of the Inaugural Ceremonies: Honors for President Benigno S. Aquino III,Recessional and departure of the President of the Philippines for Malacañan Palace.

Upon concluding the Panata sa Pagbabago, the honor guard will present arms and the President will troop the line, and be greeted by the service commanders of the AFP and PNP. He will proceed to Malacañan Palace, preceded by a motorized escort. Outside the gates of Malacañan Palace, the motorized escort will be relieved by the Presidential Guards to welcome their new commander-in-chief.

1:00 PM Ritual of the climbing of the stairs, Malacañan Palace.

The President formally takes possession of the Palace as his official residence and office, by climbing the main stairs of the Palace for the first time as President of the Philippines.

This is a tradition begun by President Quezon, who was moved by the legend that Rizal's mother climbed the stairs on her knees, to beg for the life of her son. The climbing of the stairs signifies that the chief executive is the freely-elected head of the Filipino people, who is pledged to govern them with justice in contrast to the colonial governors who formerly inhabited the Palace.

Working Lunch in Rizal Hall, Malacañan Palace.
2:00 PM Induction into office of the Cabinet and various officials by the President of the Philippines, Rizal Hall, Malacañan Palace.

Please be advised that this has been rescheduled for 2:30 PM.

2:30 PM  First Cabinet Meeting of the President of the Philippines, Aguinaldo State Dining Room, Malacañan Palace.

From 1935 to martial law, Kalayaan Hall (formerly Maharlika Hall and before that, the Executive Building) was the official office of the president. Cabinet meetings were held here (in the Cabinet, now Roxas, and Council of State, now Quirino, rooms) from the Quezon to the Macapagal administrations: among those who attended cabinet meetings in this building were Benigno Aquino Sr. as Secretary of Agriculture in the Quezon Administration; it is also the building in which Benigno Aquino Jr. held office as presidential assistant to President Ramon Magsaysay. Cabinet meetings have been held in the Aguinaldo State Dining Room since the Marcos administration.

4:00 PM Street Program, Quezon Memorial Circle begins.


6:00 PM Inaugural Reception, Reception and Rizal Halls, Malacañan Palace.

This is a reception for foreign and other dignitaries who wish to call on the new President. The term vin d'honneur will no longer be used, reverting to the premartial law practice of simpler official receptions. There will also be no Inaugural Ball (the last Inaugural Ball was for the 1981 Marcos inaugural, which was also the last time the Rigodon de Honor was danced in the Palace until June 12, 2009, when it was again danced on June 12 of that year). The President of the Philippines will offer a toast as a gesture of amity to the nations that maintain diplomatic relations with the Philippines.

7: 30 PM Toast to the Foreign Delegations and the Diplomatic Corps by the President of the Philippines, brief remarks.
8:30 PM Inaugural Concert, Quezon Memorial Circle, Quezon City.

Public concerts have been a feature of inaugurals since the Quirino administration. A public dance instead of an Inaugural Ball first took place in the Magsaysay inaugural in 1953, and restored as a practice by presidents since Macapagal in 1961. The last Inaugural Ball, complete with Rigodon de Honor, was held at Malacañan Palace in 1981. The President will return to his residence at Times Street, Quezon City, after the Inaugural Concert.

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The Long View: Great expectations

The Long View

Great expectations

By Manuel L. Quezon III

Philippine Daily Inquirer

First Posted 00:23:00 06/14/2010

IN its exit poll, social weather stations concluded its questionnaire with three questions: the first asked whether people thought the quality of governance would a) get better (57 percent); b) be the same as now (15 percent); c) get worse (2 percent); or d) no comment (26 percent). The second asked whether in the coming 12 months the quality of life would a) be better (29 percent); b) be the same (23 percent); c) be worse (2 percent); d) no comment (26 percent). And finally, over the same period, would the economy of the Philippines a) be better (52 percent); b) be the same (19 percent); c) be worse (2 percent); and d) no comment (27 percent).

The majorities expressing optimism isn't surprising, and neither are the steady minorities with a slightly pessimistic to highly pessimistic opinion; what's remarkable are the significant minorities—basically a quarter of the population—who preferred not to venture an opinion in public. So on the one hand, public opinion is cautiously optimistic while a significant minority prefers to wait and see; overall a fairly healthy distribution of opinion and certainly, a working basis for sustaining what the country as a whole has achieved.

And that is, that after 2001, when we came closest to a Bangkok Moment, and came close to one again in 2005, society as a whole, regardless of the desires of its various component parts, which ranged from the administration's preference to take public opinion—in national terms—out of the governance equation on one hand, and the Year Zero/New Society fantasies of many of its organized critics, a consensus emerged to institute a kind of political triage. Neither government nor its critics could go too far out of bounds, the whole thing quarantined, so to speak, with periodic measurements of the public pulse by way of elections.

The temptation of course is to paper over nagging problems or to view public debate as irksome, now that the patient has a new lease on life, and we are looking forward (broadly speaking) to the first administration with a widely accepted mandate since 1998. On the one hand, if many desire some peace and quiet, there is such a thing as being too quiet and pacific precisely at a time when the country not only has to rebuild its institutions, but find a way toward a productive, because inclusive and consensus-driven, civic culture.

There is no more democratic point of view than the one so eloquently put forward by Patricia Evangelista yesterday: "To critique is not to dictate, it is to participate, to speak, to engage. That promise made on May 10 when millions lined up for hours for the right to choose leaders begins its work now, and will continue for the next six years even when the applause ends, love dies and the hero is stripped of legend." One might only add, it is one of the great expectations of a society whose opinions were consistently shrugged off as "political noise" by the present dispensation whose shredders are working overtime to deny future officials any evidence that could end up produced in hitherto "proper" forums.

The question of the role public opinion should play in a representative democracy was settled in 1922, the question put forward in a great party division and then in a special election. On Feb. 17 of that year, the assertion was first put forward that "the party never has been and never will be the people. My loyalty to my party ends where my loyalty to my country begins," and with that assertion, the corresponding desire for "a government of opinion, not a government that solves vital questions without the country's knowledge or how or when the solution was made."

If nature abhors a vacuum, so does public opinion and by extension, so does media—to which an increasingly shrinking portion of the public pays sustained attention in general—and which has found itself treated with such a sustained combination of outright deception or hostility by official circles.

My point is that if parties aren't the people, neither are NGOs, nor broader Civil Society, nor even the media: they are all subsets of the whole, and cannot—and should not—believe they are superior to any other. But on the other hand, they do legitimately speak out and weigh in, inevitably antagonistically at times: with officialdom having the burden of proof to justify and convince all these publics of both the relevance and correctness of government's actions.

Where everyone seems stumped is how—and where—all the competing publics should thresh out their differences. There lies the value in recognizing the public consensus, such as it's been, of the past few years: to thresh things out in various institutional arenas, insisting, however, that even as institutions have their assigned check-and-balance functions, the ultimate arbiter of legitimacy is public opinion.

This is the opposite of the ritual answer of the present dispensation, which has always been "in the proper forum," and through the duly constituted authorities: but that assumed, or more precisely stubbornly insisted, on the "presumption of legality" when the foundations of that presumption, institutions and officials with mandate, were at best imperfectly present and almost entirely absent for the chief executive.

As far back as October 2005, Ricky Carandang had pointed out in his blog (in, alas, a now-vanished entry) that our society is an extremely low-trust one, to begin with; for much of the past five years, government preferred divide-and-rule rather than to rebuild trust. And yet, a healthy skepticism to anything official aside, I don't doubt that people want to be able to trust their representatives—but it is officialdom who has to earn that trust. The mandate elected officials received on May 10 is the foundation, as firm as any we've had; but it will take a lot more, requiring raising the bar on how government engages its many publics.

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