The roles we play

The week that General Angelo Reyes, former Chief of Staff of our Armed Forces, shot himself in the chest, I had a long talk with him. He was involved in the charges of corruption vs AFP retiring chiefs and the charges weighed heavily on him – for one, he had merely followed what had become a matter of custom in the Army. I recall that conversation vividly for he emphasized how important role playing was in public life. I believe this holds true even in our private lives. Angelo Reyes regarded himself as a soldier; this was his training. He knew he had pledged to die for his country – all soldiers know that. It was out of a sense of honor that he took his own life.

I know of a few individuals who trained for their roles, played them with faithfulness, and even acted beyond the demands of that role. We see this in many of the health workers today –  technicians, nurses, and doctors working beyond the normal call of duty. In some cultures, there is no work – or role that is lowly. The peasants, most of all – they are frontliners now because they produce our food.

Teaching, next to motherhood, I think is the second noblest profession. Many of us in our adulthood realize their contribution to our careers and our very lives because the influence of good teachers extend beyond the classroom. I am fortunate to have at least three of them, Miss Soledad Oriel in Grade School, and Miss Paz Latorena and Father Juan Labrador in College. Miss Oriel introduced me to the wonderland of literature, Miss Latorena taught me how to read, and Father Labrador taught me how important clarity is. Even after I was no longer in her class, Miss Latorena followed me, and I recall her visiting me and telling me that I was no longer telling stories but writing them. I was a college teacher myself, and it always warms my heart when a former student approaches me and tells me how much he or she had gotten from my class. Teaching was not just teaching and lecturing; for the role, I did a lot of self-searching, and learning from my students, too, in the continuing dialogue that the school room provided. I hope that all teachers understand their roles fully – that it is not furthering knowledge (information) in the minds of the students but developing and transforming that knowledge into wisdom, and that most of all, installing in them the desire to live the Socratic precepts of virtue and excellence.

If our journalists are not ego-bloated and dazzled by their bylines in bold type, we will have a more truthful and, at the same time, a reliable press. The temptation to celebrate one’s self in media is ever present when journalists forget their roles – to report the truth. What comes to mind is my first meeting with Primitivo C. Mauricio, editor of the Sunday Magazine of the old Manila Times. I don’t think many remember him for he was low-key and self-effacing. I was just out of college, writing fiction, and already getting published in the national magazines. As Sunday supplement of the largest paper in the country, it was an excellent outlet for  young writers. Prim, as we called him, was a pre-war staffer of the Manila Tribune which became the Manila Times after World War II. Always remember, he said, this magazine is not owned by me, or the Roceses – the publishers, and certainly not you although you work for it. It is owned by the people who buy it. The people! It is for them then that we work. Such a simple equation, but most of the time, we forget it.

In the long run, it is the people we really work for. All bureaucrats and all politicians are public servants, but so many of them, particularly the elected politicians, don’t consider themselves in this light, that their positions give them entitlement – that the public coffers is for them to enjoy. And why not? Their election has anointed them with legitimacy and privilege.

For so many of our highest public officials, they come to their roles unprepared or ill-fitted. The late Dolphy is an exemplar of the man who knew his role and his limitation; when he was urged to run for public office – he was sure to win – he refused; he said that he didn’t know what to do if he won.

Let us look at our past presidents. Perhaps, the most qualified was Ferdinand Marcos. He was a brilliant lawyer, he trained rigorously for the office. But he was a failure because in the end, he did not play his role; it had corrupted him instead.

Cory Aquino and her son, Noynoy, never deserved to be President – both did not have training for such a lofty position – if they failed, it was not because they had no training, but because they didn’t play the roles that were thrust upon them.

President Ramon Magsaysay was qualified for the Presidency and was fortunate to have President Quirino appoint him Secretary of National Defense at a time when the Huk armed rebellion was gaining strength. Communism was demonized by the United States and Magsaysay and the Quirino government received American support. But even with this support and his vast popularity, Magsaysay had doubts about his capacity for which reason, he surrounded himself with the best Filipino minds of his time. And he was sensitive to public opinion, reversing his decisions immediately when they were not approved by the people. Magsaysay listened – therein lay the foundation of his greatness. He fully understood his role as President and as a leader.

In looking at our political landscape today, I can see many young hopefuls who are training for leadership; some are very visible, mayors of our major cities, young bureaucrats professionally prepared, performing their duties with competence, waiting in the wings. We never really had a shortage of such brilliant and ambitious young people. But our problems are so vast and barnacled by tradition. Are there among them who really know their roles, the risks they must take, and the price they have to pay – as did General Angelo Reyes?