After 15 years of a Rising Star: Still believers in the power of magic by Max V. Soliven

Publisher and Chairman of the Board

Celebrating fifteen years of successful publication, we at The Philippine STAR have had to resist the temptation to gloat, particularly over early detractors who had sneered that in a field of 23 daily newspapers, all of which had hit print long ahead of us, we "wouldn’t last four months."

Obviously, like the Ides of March, those daunting four months have come and gone. We’re at the peak of our circulation and growing by the day. Despite the recession and hard times, our earnings and our reach have, thus far, exceeded – again by far – those of last year’s.

But these "blessings" – manna from heaven, thanks to God’s generosity and that of our millions of readers and supporters – are merely material gains. What we really ce-lebrate is that, while we may err (and sometimes err grievously), this great newspaper – staffed by 1,000 dedicated people – has not veered away from its original mission and avowed goal: "To comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable." This marvelous and inspiring objective was not conjured up by us: we borrowed it from somewhere else, just as we took our slogan on the masthead from the Holy Bible: "Truth Shall Prevail." We’ve followed those twin paths over the intervening years to the best of our ability.

A newspaper’s main duty, after all, is not to sell newspapers. Its task is to propagate its ideas, hold high its ideals, battle injustice as best it can (a puny effort in these overwhelming times, but one which must be undertaken with every weapon in our arsenal) and finally, inform and by this information and editorial opinion, strive – not to move mountains but a challenge more formidable than the mightiest mountain – to move the hearts of men.

We’ve done our best. The Report Card on what we’ve accomplished, or failed to accomplish, must be filled out by you, our Dear Readers. So, enough of self-congratulation, back-patting, and exclaiming as the old Pinoy jibe goes: "Good Morning, Myself." (No play intended on Magandang Gabi, Bayan).

Our nation has fallen on its face. There’s no more painless way to put it. Even our Mighty Midget, our earnest President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, is finding herself swamped not merely by external problems, but troubles inside her own kitchen (I hesitate to use the term "boudoir"). Our country has fallen off the "investor" radar screens of the world. Not even the usual "hot money" comes in now, even the speculators are flocking elsewhere. The peso is fluttering helplessly like a moth in a gale. My friends who’ve come home from abroad tell me that wherever they go they’re asked about the "Abu Sayyaf", or the kidnappings plaguing our urban areas. The anarchy in the streets is a reflection, no doubt, of the anarchy in our own thinking.

Our national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal, a journalist and novelist (and lover), decried it in the title of in one of his two novels, The Reign of Greed. That’s what we have now. We have not progressed. Our fear is that selfishness may become so widely accepted that it may someday be regarded as a virtue, not a vice or the debilitating and disgusting evil it really is. The other side of the same tawdry coin, even more pernicious because it signifies hopelessness, is cynicism. On television shows, we hear catchphrases like, "The police are the biggest criminal organization in this country", and "We’re so corrupt on every level that our children are doomed to suffer and accept corruption for generations to come."

This, we in The STAR will never accept.

On my desk for years I’ve kept a statue of the Vietnamese hero, the Emperor Le Loi, in full battle gear, at full gallop astride a charging steed. It was a souvenir of my old Vietnam War days, and it weighed a ton, but I dragged it home anyway. Le Loi was not an Emperor born to the purple. He had been a mere fisherman, one of millions of Vietnamese suffering in the 15th century under the yoke of Chinese imperial rule. In the heart of beautiful Hanoi, the Vietnamese capital in the highlands, you’ll find Hoan Kiem Lake where Le Loi fished. One day, he pulled up in his nets, among his catch, a sword with a magical, shining blade. Taking this as a sign from the heavens, Le Loi grasped the sword, mobilized his people in a revolution to overthrow Ming Dynasty control, and drove the Chinese out of Vietnam in 1428. Le Loi founded the Le Dynasty, and made himself its first emperor, giving thanks to the gods for his nation’s liberation. He was commanded by an inner voice to return the magic sword to the lake, but he hesitated to part with such a treasure. One day, in the midst of a thunderstorm, the sword was snatched from its sheath. As it was swept off towards the lake, it turned into a dragon just before plunging back into the waters to vanish forever.

This is why lovely Hoan Liem – from whose banks some casual fishermen still cast for carp, incongruously and jauntily still sporting black French berets – is called "The Lake of the Restored Sword."

Everybody already knows the more familiar story of King Arthur who drew – as a gangly boy – his sword of kingship from the magic stone. England in those days was in the darkness of ignorance and contentious civil strife. But this first sword was not effective enough, so Arthur asked his counsel, the Magician Merlin, where he could find a finer blade. Merlin directed him to a lake. "If you deserve it," Merlin warned, "you will get your wish."

Suddenly, a pair of white hands, holding a sword aloft, and a jewelled scabbard. Thus, Arthur received his famous sword Ex Calibur – which means "Cut-steel" from the mysterious Lady of the Lake.

Wielding his Ex Calibur, his shining blade, Arthur brought unity out chaos, established a Round Table of noble knights, and set a code of chivalry for all time – a code, while often breached dismayingly – persists to this day. His dying wish was that his magic sword be returned to the Lady of the Lake from whom it first had come.

There are those who will scoff that these are fairy tales. They are not, imbedded as they are in the consciousness and most beloved memories of all mankind.

What about our present nightmare? We mustn’t despair. As you’ve realized by now, this writer, and many Filipinos I’m sure, still believe in magic. Not the "magic" that will miraculously banish poverty, ignorance, crime, and sleaze – there are no easy shortcuts. You don’t demolish Payatas and burn out, cleanly, the "garbage" in our minds and impulses in a single day, or even within the SONA’s vaunted promise of one year. Bickering and discord, despite La Gloria’s plea, will always be with us. But I believe that the healing magic lies in our hearts – that, someday, Filipinos will cry out, "No more!" to everything that drags them down and frustrates their aspirations for a better life and a brighter future for our children.

There was what we now describe with poignancy and nostalgia a Golden Yesterday when our fathers lived and worked in a safe and stable society, when the fight for freedom and independence was fought in the halls of the National Assembly, and every citizen, man and woman, hewed to duty and responsibility. Why, every policeman in the neighborhood was known – and respected, if not loved, as a guardian and a symbol of government’s concern for everybody’s welfare and safety. This was not too long ago and faraway that our grandparents don’t vividly recall it.

Keep on believing in magic, and such a day will be reborn – out of current misery and disappointment.

As for us in The STAR, we pledge to keep our own swords burnished and bright, not claiming, of course, any magical powers. We’re just journeymen journalists wielding the limited weapons at our command. Yet, I recall the cheeky motto of the College Editors Guild when we were all kids, students still suffused with the idealism (and stupidity) of youth, hoping to do our part and aspiring for a place in the sun: "A drop of ink makes millions think."

If we can contribute our drop of ink, we’ll consider our lives well-spent.

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