Class

Leni Robredo is a woman of so much class, the honorable wife of an honorable man.

Through the horrible week we all went through, she was the steadfast paragon of courage, restraint and good sense. She was constantly calm and collected, the effective antidote to our notorious cultural propensity for excess. She exuded good will even in the wildest moments of this tragedy. When things threatened to go overboard, she kept everyone solidly on deck.

We all needed Leni, a woman of such character, of such strength, during this past few days when what was base threatened to overwhelm what was sublime.

Leni tells us the night after the crash, she accepted the fact Jesse was killed. For three more days, the self-styled commanders of the operation off the coast of Masbate insisted theirs remained a search-and-rescue mission.

As soon as news of the crash broke, Leni withdrew from the public eye, into the consoling warmth of her home, to embrace her children. The family pleaded for privacy. They were not into weeping and wailing in the public eye.

We can all imagine how devastated Leni might be by this tragedy. Her role, however, was not to help us all crumble under the weight of grief. Her first duty as wife and mother, she understood well, was to supply the strength everyone needed to pull through the dreary aftermath of a great loss. She had much to give.

When Jesse’s remains were finally recovered, Leni finally emerged: a person of great dignity and inspiring wisdom.

If there was any bitterness over what happened, Leni kept that tucked in the deepest recesses. This was not the time to find fault or to pin blame — or, for that matter, to indulge in inconvenient chatter about how badly her husband was treated when he lived. This was a time for separating grain from chaff, the important from the unimportant.

What was important was to bring her husband to rest with all the honor he deserved, all the adulation his life was worth. All in their proper proportion.

When malicious men started trash talk questioning why the aide-de-camp survived and the principal did not, Leni quickly quashed that by thanking the aide for serving her husband well. That was that.

Then some quarters proposed that Leni be named to replace her husband as Interior Secretary, reflecting the bizarre necropolitics of this country were the deaths of beloved leaders often served as political springboards for their kin. The honorable wife of an honorable man quickly nipped that proposal at the bud. She was going to be mother to her children, nothing more and nothing less.

When some of our more absurd legislators proposed granting Jesse Robredo posthumous confirmation as Secretary, Leni dealt with that most appropriately. She ignored the stupid proposal completely. No need to clown around with the clowns.

Later, one offspring intimated that her upcoming midterm exams were more important than dealing with the confirmation process. That is a most insightful assessment of this matter. The hard-nosed practicality of Jesse carries in his genes.

When Jesse was mayor, he went about his work in shorts and sandals. When he was secretary, he banned tarpaulins welcoming him to this place and that. He was a man who disdained the frills and was scandalized by pomp and pageantry.

The administration, principally the Liberal Party faction in its fold, organized an extravaganza to mourn Jesse’s death and celebrate his life. All the fuss might have made Jesse uncomfortable.

There is a bit of an overstretch in all the fuss. It seems there are many who want to huddle in the shade of Jesse’s reputation. Or maybe there is much guilt to assuage.

President Aquino travelled to Naga to personally offer a state funeral for his unconfirmed Interior Secretary. All the stops pulled. All the frills guaranteed. No cost spared. An unprecedented six days of national mourning was decreed.

The coffin will be shuttled to Manila and back. A 19-gun salute, just two short of what is given a head of state, will be done. The remains will be installed at Malacanang Palace: an event unprecedented in our political history. Everyone who is anybody now wants to be seen as Jesse’s friend — and suitable heir to his legacy.

 Leni relented to the President’s offer of state honors — grudgingly, we imagine. There has been enough of sincere public outpouring at Naga to please Jesse and console those he loved dearly. 

When the President offered interment at the Libingan ng mga Bayani, Leni put her most sensible foot down.

Jesse’s remains will be returned to Naga to be cremated. He will rest in the city he loved: his “happy place”, as his wife put it. He will be among truly grateful folk who love him as he loved them.

The departure and arrival ceremonies for Jesse’s remains have been, so far, impressive. The nation has been given yet another opportunity to do what it does best: transforming mourning into a public spectacle.

Jesse, however, might squirm at the cost of staging this officially orchestrated spectacle, fearing this might set a precedent for all appointive officials who pass away in the line of duty. There are, after all, thousands of families still in evacuation centers awaiting relief.

 He will be proud, nevertheless, that his wife and children performed to his standard of humility and simplicity, quiet courage and dignified restraint. They juxtapose against an unholy horde veering towards excess.