During the Commonwealth period, just before World War II, the country got along very well, thank you, with a unicameral legislature, the National Assembly. (This was the body which produced almost all of the great Senators of the post-war, post-Independence decade, anyway.)
I’ve been going, during the past few years, over the surviving transcripts of discussion and debate, and remaining copies of "privilege speeches" recovered from homes and archives which were not burned during the Battle for the Liberation of Manila. Some of my dad’s records were preserved in my grandfather’s house in Calle Cavite, near Blumentritt, which was not destroyed. They gave one an idea of how parliamentary discussion and debate were conducted in those days.
The language used by the solons of that era was dignified, even though fiery at times, and studded with legal and historical allusions. The National Assembly, apparently, was completely bi-lingual (trilingual, really if you counted Tagalog, which was not yet being referred to as "Pilipino"). In short, our solons could switch from English to Spanish without a skip in stride, at home as they were in both tongues. The only eruption of peevishness, it seems, occurred whenever an Assemblyman from any of the Tagalog provinces would rise to be recognized by the Chair, then insist on speaking Tagalog on the premise that it was our Wikang Pambansa. Immediately, three or four Assemblymen from elsewhere would spring to their feet and insist on speaking in their own "national language", whether Ilocano, Sugbuanon, Pangalatok, or Chavacano.
Nowadays, we’ve completely lost Spanish, English is disappearing fast, and everybody feels compelled, it appears, to express himself or herself in Tagalog, usually clumsy and stilted on the part of many out-of-town solons. This is owing, to repeat what I said yesterday, to the power of radio and television.
Singapore is Southeast Asia’s most prosperous and trade-wise country because all Singaporeans were compelled from the beginning by its Founding Father, Lee Kwan Yew, to speak English, whether they were of Chinese, Malay, or Indian origin.
Singapore’s national anthem is sung in Bahasa Malaya (Malay) but the language of business and everyday commerce, and of education in the English-stream schools was strictly enforced to be English. Lee, himself a Hakka in origin, could speak three Chinese dialects or languages like Putongwa (Mandarin) but he was British-educated, earning a Double First (Super-summa cum laude) in Law at Cambridge. The 3.2 million Singaporeans, being 76 percent Chinese, 15 percent Malay, and six percent Indian could, of course, use their native tongues at home, in neighborly intercourse, in religious matters, and were encouraged to do so. But English was the mandated language. Thus, it is easy to do business with Singaporeans (but better be alert and on your toes) since everybody, although with an accent-la! and unique expressions (How can? Yes, can!), can speak English.
For that matter, we have eight million OFWs (counting 700,000 illegals or TNTs). Where would our Overseas Filipino Workers be if they didn’t speak or understand English? Working as TV newscasters and jeepney drivers, naturally, or being elected to the Senate. ("Propesterous!" as one Senator exclaimed!)
We might do much better without a Senate. Of course, there are many fine solons in the Senate today, but some of them are ham actors preening themselves for TV coverage or obviously trying to use their podium as a springboard for the presidency. National interest? Personal interest seems, so often, to manifest itself.
If we’re going to subsidize a bunch of artistas and grandstanders then we might as well let the taxpayers off the hook by paring it down to one single House.
As for the Party-List, which has shoehorned seven "extra" congressmen into the House, the sooner we discard that weird aberration the better (borrowed by Tita Cory’s hastily-assembled "Constitution-drafters’ from Germany and other European sources). Let aspirants from the "marginalized" sectors fight for their seats like any other congressman, by campaigning – and spending. Fair should be fair. As it is, the Batasang Pambansa building has had to stretch to give the Party-List "party poopers" office space. If the Commission on Elections approves any more, they’ll have to hold office in the toilet. (And flush before leaving the room).
Settle it in court. Let the Ombudsman handle it. Let Col. Victor Corpus, although he distrusts our judges, submit his evidence and file charges against Lacson in our justice system. Media, like ourselves, cannot join the chorus of condemnation and arrogate to ourselves the task of being prosecutor, judge, and jury. What conceit.
The grumbling just goes to show how discipline and devotion to duty have disintegrated in our politicized armed forces today. Another coup? Sanamagan. If the military stage another "adventure", then we’ll become, like Myanmar (Burma), a rogue state. Yangoon luckily got itself admitted into the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) and thus managed to achieve a modicum of respectability, but Myanmar remains dirt-poor and mired in Fourth World misery.
Thailand stabilized only after it stopped being "The Land of Coups." The coup d’etat there used to be as Siamese as Number One Soup and the festival of Loy Krathong. Since the end of World War II, this planet experienced 284 coups in 76 different countries, half the sovereign states represented in the United Nations. Of these, 151 were "successful." Only Argentina beat Thailand in registered coups by a hair, statistically, but Thailand weighs in a close second with 19 coups d’etat or aborted coup attempts.
One of my best friends, Pichai, a famous TV personality, some years ago stuck out his neck and began announcing himself as "spokesman" of a coup which failed the following day. He had to spend a few years in prison outside Bangkok to meditate on and repent his recklessness.
Another source of irritation in military circles, we hear, is the accusation of Lamitan parish priest, Father Cirilo Nacorda in Basilan hurled against a general, a colonel, a major and two captains. AFP officers whisper to me, grimly, that if such "wild" accusations are given credence, the army might just go "on strike" and stop fighting the Abu Sayyaf and the other Moro rebels in Mindanao. Salamabit! Those threats merely serve to fuel more widespread suspicion that there’s a spirit of mutiny and putschism in the upper echelons of our armed forces.
An army going "on strike"? That’s not an army. That’s a bandit gang run berserk. The Abus wear military uniforms, too. Does that make them a respectable, disciplined armed forces?
Our AFP must beware of firebrands and power-hungry officers intent on using our soldiers as cannon-fodder to advance their ambitions – and resentments. All three generations of our family – from my grandfather who fought as a Captain in the Katipunan, to my father who fought in Bataan as a Major, was in the Death March, and suffered five months in Japanese Prisoner-of-War camp in Capas only to die of malaria, and this writer, a reserve officer in the Infantry – always revered the honor and sense of duty of our armed forces. I’m confident our boys in uniform, ignoring the rantings of troublemaking conspirators, will remain loyal now.