Yellow is a primary color

MANILA, Philippines - When Cory was first diagnosed with cancer, I kept quiet. I understand now, months later, that the quiet was really about denial. It seemed impossible that anyone so good could be sick. Surely God had more wisdom than to strike the good? Couldn’t he strike the bad instead? I mean I even had a list of names He could peruse, certainly far more evil people were deserving of this particular pain and agony? Once again I wondered in secret, in my heart, why the world couldn’t be just.

For many months, text messages for prayers for Cory kept arriving. I did not know what to do with these requests either. I knew for a fact that if there was anyone close to Christ, it was Cory herself. What would my measly striving-for-faith prayers do for one of the most faithful of Christ’s? What words of eloquence could I add to Cory’s brand of faithfulness? I had seen her, more than once, leading the Rosary in Church. I marveled at her steadfastness. I envied her certainty. I craved her peace. I prayed the Rosary with her hoping to get just a little bit of that grace by osmosis. Such was my wonder at this woman that in spite the many number of times I had the chance to meet her, I would run away. I was certain that if she looked into my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to hide how terrible I was at being Christ’s child. I was worried too what the effect would be on me. For sure I would read the challenge in her eyes to be more prayerful. I wasn’t ready.

I am lucky enough to remember what it was like living in between the Marcos and Aquino years. In my own literature classes, we often speak of the importance of mythology and how many nations are formed by the creation of a central myth or epic. The Roman Caesar Augustus certainly knew what he was doing when he commissioned Virgil to write the Aeneid. The epic allowed him to bask in the old glory of Greece and to justify his rule. Marcos might have learned from him, in his case calling upon the myth of Malakas at Maganda, writing Iginuhit sa Tadhana in verse form, so that many people had to memorize his ascent into power as poetry. People take for granted the power of art to sell ideology. So for decades, we were deluded into believing that this was the truth and the only truth.

I’m trying to trace now my own family’s history when we turned yellow. Ironically, our family’s fate was tied to the Marcoses because my brothers had the chance to study abroad for their music under the government’s auspices. Loyalty is an important family trait and it was difficult for us to decide that some things were more important than personal fortunes. In my memory, the break began when my father was given a videotape documenting Marcos’ hidden wealth assets — footage of his many properties and scenes of extravagant living. These grainy scenes are engraved in my heart: Imelda singing Dahil Sa’Yo, a costume party on a yacht, massive homes on the most expensive real estate abroad. The other videotape was a collection of Ninoy Aquino’s speeches delivered in many halls across the United States. You could not deny his passion and conviction. We watched these tapes over and over again, made copies for other family members and fed the anger in our hearts.

It is my father’s outrage that stays with me. In spite of the “mystery” of Evelio Javier’s killing and the violence of the Plaza Miranda bombing, the final straw for my parents was the documented lavish lifestyle. I think about it now and realize that it was a value of principle, of honor, of delicadeza, If you could not live honestly in the smallest private space of your life, you could not be honorable at all. It was unforgivable. And so we turned yellow quickly and severed ties (politically only, I am happy to say, and that’s a whole other interesting story) from our patrons. But we just knew it was simply time to take a stand.

If Marcos had the myth of Creation, what Cory had to offer was a counter story — the story of David and Goliath and most importantly, the story of Moses. Both narratives are from the point-of-view of the underdog. What spells the difference, what ultimately causes the miraculous, the impossible, and the ridiculous to happen is faith. It is what turns the story around to become a story of triumph. It is important that in the story David is a young boy precisely because he defeats the old Giant by the goodness and purity of his heart. Moses is a sinful man, but one who has repented and has nothing to lose. Cory had these elements: a purity of heart and after all that had been done to her family, a blazing fearlessness. I will not ever, ever forget the headline in the newspaper with Cory’s words emblazoned on the cover: “Let my people go!” – echoing the words of Moses to the Pharaoh as he led the Israelites out of Egypt.

And there was one other story her person called forth as well – that of Solomon, the wise King. It made us aware that we wanted more than just a president. We wanted a person with vision, with integrity, with a mighty heart, a good heart, really, more than anything.

What was it about Cory that enthralled us so? I purposely did not write about it at the height of all our collective grief, simply waiting for the lesson to come to me. And finally, here it is:

We are constantly taught that nothing lasts forever. We live in a world where change is the buzzword and to believe that something being black and white is old-fashioned. Truth is subjective, and true only until proven otherwise and you could call upon a host of philosophers, to prove your point otherwise. (For example, a $20,000 dinner is not really wrong per se, because one must understand context, motive, number of people at the dinner, etc.) Everything can be explained. Everything excused. Democracy and its ideals used this way and that dependent on how it suits the person giving the excuse.

Consider this new world order: we all have friends who’ve paid judges, clerks of court, BIR officials, DepEd officials, city officials, MMDA policemen, plus a host of others and our attitude is one of resignation. Their attitude is one of entitlement. We all know of Mr. 5% at the City Hall. Corruption is part of our budget when we plan. It is what we now accept as the necessary evil to get what we want. I am not at all assured when I see government or police officials in public. My heart races, I never feel as if they are on my side. At the end of the day, price determines everything.

But Cory was literally very black and white, and not just yellow. Prayer could and did solve everything especially if you wanted to change the world. You could not do it by yourself alone. (Remember her first salute as commander-in-chief? How she broke into a smile as she clumsily tried to salute?) Kindness and goodness of heart does trump everything. Truth shall set you free. (Remember how she sued Louie Beltran for claiming she hid under the bed during one of the many coup attempts?) The kingdom of God is at hand. The just will inherit the earth. God does work in the fields of man and makes everything right. Simplicity is next to Godliness. (Remember that she refused to live in the Palace? Recall how her house on Times Street remained as it was?) These were not slogans, or pithy statements from a deluded woman — these were truths to live by concretely and literally. We are enthralled because we want to be just like this. We want to be as clear about our values as she was. We want to put our foot down and simply not allow certain things. We want to be that little boy in the story The Emperor’s New Clothes and point out that the Emperor is naked because it is the truth and lying is stupid.

But we do not have the courage to form a strong opinion about anything. Our bigger stories teach us that allegiances are never permanent and what was once unforgivable can be forgiven, somehow. Everything is negotiable. But Cory’s example teaches us that there are non-negotiables. There IS a wrong and there IS a right and it is not difficult to see these things. There must be an immovable standard that everyone answers to, or else chaos will ensue. And while we’re at it, where on earth are our standards for anything? I just read today that the House of Congress has been unable to reach a quorum because of absenteeism. Is this to be merely tolerated? Heavens, what excuses will I be given now? I grieve Cory’s death and the death of many who were riled by such glaring abuses that they died for these questions. I grieve for Cory because the number of people to trust is dwindling. Who can I rely on now to tell me the God-honest truth?

I look at my country from my children’s eyes and worry all the time. I am aware that I too do not set a good example by my own wishy-washy-ness. My little boy tells me that in class they were told that we owe our democracy to Tita Cory. I nod and tell him that is true. But I call upon Cory’s example and tell him that democracy is not a fixed entity like a statue but rather is a living and breathing thing and must always be fought for in the everydayness of our decisions. We cannot rely on others to make our country great. The future is in both our hands.