All over the troubled republic, "Shut up!" became the cri de guerre, a battle cry that echoed over and over again, cutting across socioeconomic classes, ethnic groupings, political affiliations and religious denominations. The rawest of raw nerves had been touched and Filipinos everywhere sensed a shared identity in collectively admonishing contentious authorities to "Shut up!" The cri de guerre was surprisingly universal precisely because it was also a cri du coeur, a cry from the heart expressing the deepest and most passionate longings of a long frustrated people.
"Sobra na, tama na!" is the native rendering of the same emotion. In its fuller and more clearly politicized version, the cry would have been "Sobra na, tama na, palitan na!" This is the same battlecry that chased the Marcoses out of power in 1986. It represents a powerful consolidation of three critical developments: the intensifying public outrage over the perceived fecklessness and/or treason of those who lead the country, the growing popular belief that the displacement of such officials and their self-serving regime is in order and truly serves the national interests, and, finally, the heightened public willingness to undertake open political action against the regime and those who maintain it.
In May 2004, the authorities must consider themselves lucky that "Shut up!" still carries no active political component. Across almost two decades of generally worsening quality of life, Filipinos have seen their euphoric hopes for a better society dissipate into the thinnest ether. Confronted by plundering elites, anarchic elements, worsening economic difficulties and recurrent political instability, some Filipinos have even grown nostalgic for Marcos’ strong-man rule. While most of the nation do not share this Orwellian perspective, neither are they inclined to indefinitely suffer the fecklessness and insensibility of garrulous authorities.
Filipinos had hoped that the May 2004 elections might yield a national administration with a clear mandate to politically govern the country. Even as the COMELEC — the constitutionally-mandated agency to administer and supervise Philippine elections – did much to subvert that democratic hope, they continue to keep faith with the flawed electoral process and pin their dwindling hopes on an electoral count — in the present joint session of Congress looking into the certificates of canvass of votes, a mere tally – that might have the slightest semblance of credibility. After all, the truly desperate cannot afford to maximize democratic demands when it comes to flawed election; they necessarily lodged their hopes in the most minimal approximation of a credible vote count.
More than three weeks after casting their ballots, Filipinos still are in the dark as regards their elected president and vice-president. In the limelight, gloriously basking before TV cameras and a gallery of newspeople, the "honorable" representatives of the country’s "sovereign people" sit in joint session, at times standing up in their sartorial best to further attract attention. Their most impressive performance is when they hie themselves to the floor, take up the microphone and perorate at length – often singlemindedly and singularly mindlessly iterative – on the most obvious legal or political points allegedly crucial to the proper conduct of the congressional canvass. No significant distinction can be made between sophisticated senators and casual congresspersons in this regard.
They talk and talk and talk and talk and talk some more.
Nothing is more dangerous than endless talk given an extremely frustrated citizenry begging for whatever closure there might be to their nightmarish electoral experience. The "honorable" members of Congress tempt the fates in insisting on an extended run of a less than impressive political performance.
Canvass the certificates of votes quickly and give the Filipino people a president they can focus on, make demands upon and – should it be necessary – also decisively discard. This time, in record time, without having to wait another twenty years for a much-needed public resolution.
The public still may ask their politicians now to shut up. If the nation’s politicians ignore desperate calls for more responsible action and less irresponsible talk, the public may simply permanently shut them up.
Given parlous times, "Tama na, sobra na, palitan na!" is a call that politicians must fear. After all, 2004 may not be as forgiving nor as accommodating as 1986. There was much euphoria in 1986 and people everywhere was fervently singing "Magkaisa!" In 2004, politicophobia stalks the land – a clear indicator that the public finally understands that the politicians’ favorite hymn since 1986 had been mostly "Makaisa! [O dalawa! O tatlo!]"