Ben of the lumads

His search for meaning, his taking to the less-traveled road, and his encountering the light at last, among mostly forgotten people—these could only be straight out of a continuing divine plot that has yet to fully unravel. The experience thrills him, fills him with awe and thanksgiving.

Benjamin ``Ben’’ Abadiano, 41, is this year’s recipient of the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Emergent Leadership. In electing Ben, the RM Award Foundation ``recognizes his steadfast commitment to indigenous Filipinos and their hopes for peace and better lives consonant with their distinctive tradition and hallowed ways of life.’’

I met Ben last year when I interviewed him for a front page feature. I had learned about him from Sr. Victricia Pascasio of the Holy Spirit Sisters whose work among the Alangan Mangyans Ben had helped expand.

Twice I had been among the Mangyans before Ben went there to stay, and I had seen what it was like. Now, I am told, things have changed for the better I wouldn’t recognize the place if I wandered into it.

Born in 1963, Ben was raised by his grandparents. The circumstances of his birth are stuff for primetime TV dramas but that is another story. Ben finished sociology in Cagayan de Oro’s Xavier University where a Tingguian anthropologist, Dr. Erlinda Burton, opened his eyes to the world of the lumads or indigenous peoples (IP).



Ben recalled the first time he spent three weeks with a Manobo community in Bukidnon where water was scarce. ``Every day I would be given isang Caltex (a liter) of water for my use’’ The Manobo fashioned for him a bed shaped like a coffin suspended in midair like a hammock. Ben was amazed at the lumads’ simplicity.

``When that was over,’’ Ben said, ``I went straight to the beach and soaked in the sea the whole day. I knew I had experienced a transition and I wanted to devote my life to the IP.’’

Ben headed for Mindoro to look up a former classmate working with the Mangyans and the Holy Spirit sisters who ran a school as well as livelihood and environmental projects at the edge of the forest. He stayed on for nine years. He asked for nothing except food and a roof over his head. He organized the youth and helped put up Tugdaan (which means seedbed), a training school where the Mangyans learned not only the three Rs but also how to tap into their native genius to improve their lives. Ben’s most avid supporter was Sr. Victricia, a veteran in the field.

Tugdaan is now a major hub in Paitan. There, Mangyans learn about livelihood projects. It is also where many of their indigenous produce are developed and tested.

Ben was about to get married when the religious call made itself felt again. The Jesuits who had earlier refused him entry were tracking him down. Ben had reached a crossroad. He wanted to give more. `` The thought made me shed tears of joy. I felt as if grace was raining down on me.’’

Ben said goodbye to Mindoro and to a sociologist who would have been his wife. By the time he left the Mangyans, Tugdaan was well on its way. He entered the novitiate, did philosophy at the Ateneo, even pronounced his vows as a Jesuit. Ordination to the priesthood was still far down the road.

Then something stirred inside Ben that told him he had to go back to his first love—the IP. Before his 30-day retreat was over, Ben had already discerned where God was leading him. He left the Jesuits to make a path of his own. He had nothing except dreams and a song in his heart.

``Perhaps I was really meant for community work,’’ Ben said. It was not coincidence that he ended up with the Assisi Development Foundation Inc. (ADFI) headed by Ambassador Howard Dee.

Ben is ADFI’s consultant for Tabang Mindanaw and program coordinator for peace building. He is also the founder and moving force behind Ilawan Center for Peace and Development.

But minus the titles and the institutions he represents, Ben is, by himself, a remarkable human being, Filipino, Christian. Organizer, inspirer, trainer, educator, troubleshooter, dreamer, doer. A man for others.

Ben was made in charge of the program for the IP and also coordinator of Tabang’s Integrated Return and Rehabilitation Program (IRRP). He was instrumental in turning 47 communities in Maguindanao, Cotabato and Lanao del Sur into ``sanctuaries of peace.’’ Tabang Mindanaw’s IRRP formulated a nine-stage peace-building process for war-torn Central Mindanao and its displaced communities.

Peace-building starts at the evacuation sites, explained Ben. ``We gather data, demographics. We meet with local leaders, datus, barangay and prayer leaders, tribal elders. The goal is to build trust. The evacuees must feel that efforts are sincere.’’

Ben is not one to rest in green pastures. The light must be shared, not hidden under a bushel. The Ilawan Center for Peace and Sustainable Development is one medium for that sharing of the light. Ilawan means holder of light. Explained Ben: ``We desire to be a light for others, especially the poor and the marginalized.’’

Ilawan started as a dream of friends doing mission and who had a great desire to serve. Small groups would gather, along with lay workers and missionaries, to share their life experiences. In the process, they found they had something in common--the desire to share and express love for Christ by working among the marginalized communities.’’

Religious and priests whose zeal is on ``low batt’’ should feel inspired and revived and by these young visionaries.

Ben said the love of his grandparents (who died when he was 13) stoked the passion in him. ``Where does that passion come from? From the feeling of gratefulness, of being blessed. You have to share your best.’’#

Woman, religion and spirituality

Every woman who cares about the future of the women of this world and other planets should read this book. So should every caring man. And the befuddled, benighted ones—may they stumble upon this book in the most unlikely climes, at the most unlikely times, may someone care enough to shove it into their path or gift them with it, beautifully wrapped and scented, so that they may look upon it with curiosity and awe, and having read it, be filled with enormous regret that could turn into tremendous resolve to change things for the better.

The good news is that ``Woman, Religion and Spirituality in Asia’’ (Anvil) by Sr. Mary John Mananzan OSB was launched last Sunday at the National Book Fair. Mananzan, president of St. Scholastica’s College for six years, was recently elected Prioress of the Missionary Benedictine Sisters in the Philippines.

The better news is that there is no better time than now for this book to come out. It comes in the aftermath of the tempest caused by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger’s letter on women which caused women (hmm, like me) to answer back.

And the best news? The book is easy to read. Surprisingly simple but engrossing, I would say, coming as it does from a scholar and activist nun whose doctoral dissertation at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome (where almost all the popes studied) was pompously titled ``The Language Game of Confessing One’s Belief: A Wittgensteinian-Austinian Approach to the Linguistic Analysis of Creedal Statements.’’ A journalist would write, tongue in cheek, ``Ways of Saying `I Believe’’’. But I digress.



As her latest opus shows, Mananzan has come a long way from there to here. No heavy exegetical discussions here. She also gives us a peek into her own evolution.

The role of religion in the socialization of women has fascinated Mananzan for a long time. What was the impact of institutional religions in Asia on women? And so she embarked on a research that led her to various places in Asia.

Mananzan delves into the world religions such as Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism and Islam, and the non-world religions (indigenous, folk and new religions, Confucianism) as well. How have the scriptures and written works in these religions portrayed women?

But first, the author makes sure the reader understands the difference between religion/religiosity and spirituality. She also gives a historical perspective of the Asian feminist theology of liberation whose task is twofold--to deconstruct whatever is oppressive and to reconstruct whatever is liberating.

Having said that, she then walks the reader through the ancient and the contemporary. She gives the short history and basic teachings of each religion and offers concrete examples of how women have been regarded and treated/mistreated owing in part to scriptures and religious traditions. Which elements in these religions can be oppressive, which ones can be liberating?

Quite effective is Mananzan’s use of vignettes and portraits of goddesses and historical women of yore who are considered icons. So are the are her one-on-one interviews with contemporary women who are making breakthroughs in their respective religions now.

Women in Christianity making bold steps have their counterparts in other faiths. Mananzan has herself made ground-breaking moves in the women’s front—the Institute for Women’s Studies, Women Ecology and Wholeness Farm, the Women Crisis Center, to name a few.

The chapter on Christianity is the shortest. Maybe because a lot has been written on this? The chapters on Hinduism, Buddhism and Islam are fuller. For nervous Christians, here are some reassuring lines, if you don’t know this already. ``Amid the appalling oppressive elements in Christianity, there are liberating factors. The most liberating aspect of Christianity is Christ himself who went against the traditions and customs of his time to single out women in the fulfillment of his mission… In spite of the repressive elements in church history, some women rose to great heights…’’ Sadly, many church fathers forget.

The book presents excerpts from Hindu scriptures that are positive/ambivalent and blatantly misogynist (anti-woman). These must have contributed to Hindu society’s toleration of gruesome crimes (bride burning, dowry deaths) against women. The brief portrait of the Hindu goddess (Kali-Durga), an account on the life of poet-mystic (Mirabai), as well as the experiences of a victim and a Hindu feminist provide the reader varied woman images from this mystifying and most ancient religion.

Developments in Buddhism are, surprisingly, quite intriguing. The growing movement pushing for bikkhunis (ordained female monks, not nuns)is worth watching. There is, in Sri Lanka, a move to restore this. In Thailand, where it was never a practice, a couple of women got themselves ordained and caused a stir. To think that we associate Buddhism with serenity and pacifism.

``Any discussion of the status of women in Islam,’’ Mananzan warns, ``is fraught with the dangers of overgeneralization and oversimplification.’’ Do you know that pre-islamic women had no rights? Islam raised the status of women. Noted Muslim women scholars are now re-interpreting the Qur’an, the Hadith and other Muslim writings from the perspective of women.

Read about the cruel practice of female circumcision, ``honor deaths’’ (e.g., execution of a rape victim), injustice in unproven rape, to name a few. Celebrate the life of Aisha, Mohammed’s child-bride and favorite wife who later became one of the greatest scholars in Islamic history.

I have run out of space. I hope you get that book and read it.

Rep. Hontiveros takes on Cardinal Ratzinger

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger had it coming.

The author of the Vatican’s ``Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church on the Collaboration of Men and Women in the Church and the World’’ has shown once again how the powerful patriarchy in the Catholic Church views women’s struggle for equality and emancipation. How is the how? With suspicion bordering on paranoia, that’s how. Ratzinger, famous for being an archconservative, should expect a fallout.

Part of the fallout comes from Rep. Anna Theresia ``Risa’’ Hontiveros-Baraquel, a first termer from the Akbayan Party who delivered her maiden privilege speech (``Feminism is Humanism’’) in congress last Tuesday. Hontiveros tackled Ratzinger’s heavy treatise that warned against the rise of antagonism between the sexes, woman power, and other imagined abominations.

I imagine the Lord Jesus Christ, whom I believe to be a thoroughly masculine feminist, befuddled by all this anti-feminist to-do in the Vatican. Jesus posed a counterculture and defended and upheld women so many times. I don’t know why many modern-day high priests could not do the same without being patronizing and suspicious. (Ha, and what would Jesus say about their wearing jewelry and princely raiment embroidered in gold?)

Ratzinger rants: ``Recent years have seen new approaches to women’s issues. A first tendency is to emphasize strongly conditions of subordination in order to give rise to antagonism: women, in order to be themselves, must make themselves the adversaries of men. Faced with the abuse of power, the answer for women is to seek power. This process leads to opposition between men and women, in which the identity and role of one are emphasized to the disadvantage of the other, leading to harmful confusion regarding the human person, which has its most immediate and lethal effects in the family.



``A second tendency emerges…In order to avoid the domination of one sex over the other, their differences tend to be denied, viewed as mere effects of historical and cultural conditioning. In this perspective, physical difference, termed sex, is minimized, while the purely cultural element, termed gender, is emphasized to the maximum and held to be primary…According to this perspective, human nature in itself does not possess characteristics in an absolute manner: all persons can and ought to constitute themselves as they like, since they are free from every predetermination linked to their essential constitution. This perspective has many consequences. Above all it strengthens the idea that liberation of women entails criticism of Sacred Scripture.’’

Jesus H. Christ!

You can download the document from ZENIT News Agency, whose logo says, ``The World Seen From Rome.’’ Get a free online subscription if you want to eavesdrop on the Vatican.

Hontiveros now asks: ``In the spirit of sisterly correction, I ask why, in the latter years of a Pope who has meant so much to us in many of humanity’s struggles for democratization, social justice and a humanist culture and ecological healing, among others, the Vatican has seen fit to reaffirm its earlier, painful marginalization of the feminist movement…’’

Feminism, Hontiveros argues, is precisely a worldview that celebrates the feminine principle alongside the masculine in all of life and upholds the dignity, rights and responsibilities of women in that context. Again, she asks: ``Are these not positive energies that can propel the authentic advancement of women? Does the Cardinal not recognize women and feminist capacities for discernment and self-criticism in these matters?’’

Obviously not. While I was writing this piece, I entertained this thought: What might people like Ratzinger think when they read Mary’s Magnificat? Mary’s glorious words I have made the anthem of my life.

On the ``antagonism’’ issue, Hontiveros says: ``The adversity is precisely rooted in and exacerbated by these very conditions of subordination in our innermost selves and our most intimate relationships up to our societal institutions. How can we free ourselves if we did not recognize this truth? We seek, not another power over others, but power within ourselves and with others.’’

Ratzinger (surprise!) concedes somewhat: ``It is women, in the end, who even in very desperate situations, as attested by history past and present, possess a singular capacity to persevere in adversity, to keep life going even in extreme situations, to hold tenaciously to the future, and finally to remember with tears the value of every human life. Although motherhood is a key element of women’s identity, this does not mean that women should be considered from the sole perspective of physical procreation.’’

For Hontiveros, the most ``startling’’ part of Ratzinger’s thesis was the one about the liberation of women and criticism of Sacred Scripture and his saying that ``this tendency would consider as lacking in importance and relevance the fact that the Son of God assumed human nature in its male form.’’ There it is. It would be so Freudian, if it weren’t so Ratzinger.

Says Hontiveros: ``No feminist debates the fact that Jesus was born a man. Instead, we Catholic feminists cherish Jesus Christ as a feminist man and a sign of the feminine principle of God.’’

What do you make of a canonized saint (St. John Damascene) who said: ``Woman is a sick she ass…a hideous tapeworm, the advance post of hell’’? An Asian theologian I once interviewed remarked that such words (and surely, Ratzinger’s too) were ``evidence of deep mysogynist contempt and fear of women.’’

Mody with the smiling soul

She did not paint with her mouth or strum the guitar with her feet. She did not write verses or propound mathematical theories. She was no savant, but she was no sorry saint either. She had no spectacular talent or stunning achievements to speak of that could make her a celebrity worth all the fuss.

What she had were syringomyelia—and her immense capacity to take in life and be joyful. And to infect others with her joie de vivre. And to draw people to herself. And to be drawn to others.

Her story is worth retelling, my former editor at the Sunday Inquirer Magazine said to me the other day. I told her that Cecilia ``Mody’’ Chuidian Jurado, whom I had written about in 1991, passed away last Tuesday morning after a bout with respiratory illness. Mody’s body was cremated immediately. She was 46.

Mody had been bedridden, wheelchair-bound for 37 years. Only her head could move normally. And except for her upper limbs that could make slight, difficult movements, the rest of her was practically immobile. Mody was a quadriplegic. What Mody could not do for herself, others had to do for her.

Mody had been that way since she was nine years old. She was stricken with syringomyelia at that age when girls romped about and beat boys their age at their own game. One day all that energy came to a sudden stop. After four months in the hospital, Mody was brought home, never to move freely again and to start life anew.

Syringomyelia is a blister in the spinal cord that results in a chronic and progressive condition associated with sensory disturbances, muscle atrophy and spasticity.



The Jurado home in Magallanes Village had to undergo renovation so that Mody’s room on the ground floor could have a good view of everything that went on. Mody continued her studies at St. Scholastica’s College through a home study program and finished grade school and high school. She could have earned a college diploma but the Education Department at that time had requirements that a quadriplegic could not fulfill. Mody’s mentors encouraged her to keep on learning on her own. Mody read and listened to tapes and opened herself to the world.

Mody was the third of the five children of retired Air Force General Augusto Jurado and Nena Chuidian. She had two older half-sisters, her father’s children by his first wife who was killed by the Japanese during World War II.

``Mama said I’m helping God carry the cross,’’ Mody stated without a tinge of religious sentimentality. She was completely given to her condition. When I asked her what she would have wanted to do with her life had she been mobile, she said, ``A doctor in the missions.’’

Mody’s aunt, Sr. Consuelo Chuidian, a Good Shepherd nun, was one of the human rights workers who perished in a sea mishap off Mindanao in 1984. Her aunt’s photo hung beside Mody’s bed.

Mody was a study in wholeness and oneness with the world. The fact that she was no celebrity made those qualities shine through. She was no saint, no heroine, she would laugh. She was like most everyone—ordinary. Could that have been the reason many people were drawn to her?

People would come to her with their problems. She listened, gave counsel. Her smooth voice and good diction were some of her worldly assets. She had a keen sense of humor, was even self-deprecating at times, not hiding the weaker side of her. She could be lazy, she would say.

Mody could run the house even from her bed. She supervised the househelp, planned the marketing and the menu. She taught the househelp how to cook. ``Utos lang ng utos,’’ she chuckled. She also liked going to the mall and, when she was younger, to pop concerts with her friends.

Mody could use computer and do email with one slightly moving finger. A cordless phone was always with her. That Mody’s spastic hands could move at all was due to physical therapy. She could write, even do cross stitch ever so slowly. There was sensation in her entire body but she could not move. Someone had to brush her teeth and clean her up.

In 1991, Mody had breast cancer and underwent radical mastectomy and chemotherapy. She didn’t bother to wear a wig when her hair fell off. Mody survived cancer.

Friends who came to visit Mody all these years were not visiting a sick person. Her best friend and neighbor Florian Nuval-Nequinto would come around often for a chat, taking along her baby to roll on and wet Mody’s bed. The two were best friends since they were kids.

Her father (who died a few years ago) said they made sure Mody did not turn out spoiled. ``If we gave in to her every whim,’’ her mother said, ``she could have ended miserable.’’ She thought Mody was really very special. ``I think the word for her is valiant.’’

Mody was never sore at anyone, God included, for her condition and the finality of it. ``I didn’t think it was going to be temporary,’’ she said then. ``You take what God gives you, do the best you can, be happy. I think I live a pretty good life. I am relatively healthy, I have lots of friends. I have a nice family. I get sad but not depressed.’’ Sad about what? ``Seeing other people’s hardships, their poverty, their suffering--physical, mental.

``We have to make the most out of life, be the best. Don’t worry. This does not mean we should not plan. But we have to have faith in the Lord.’’

I spoke with Mody a few months ago before her health deteriorated. She later emailed me about the small reading project she and her friends had put up for poor kids in their barangay.

Mody, you stood out in a special way, among the hundreds of people (good, bad, wonderful, obnoxious)I had written about these past many years. Goodbye, and thank you for your quiet inspiration.

Gracia returns

Avalanched by news stories on the State of the Nation Address delivered by Pres. Arroyo last Monday was the first brief news item on Gracia Burnham’s return to the country and her scheduled appearance in court today at Camp Bagong Diwa.

Sources were quoted as saying that Gracia’s testimony was facilitated by a mutual legal assistance treaty between the U.S. and the Philippines.

As most everyone knows, American missionary couple Gracia and Martin Burnham plus several others were taken hostage by the Abu Sayyaf, while they were on holiday at the Dos Palmas resort in Palawan in 2001. The hostage takers beheaded one of the hostages and kept the rest in the jungles of Mindanao for one year. During the rescue operation, Martin and Filipino nurse Ediborah Yap were killed, Gracia was wounded but survived.

Gracia now returns in the wake of a different kind of hostage crisis which involved one of our OFWs in Iraq and put the name Angelo de la Cruz on everybody’s lips. Gracia returns as Philippine and US troops start anti-terror war games in North Cotabato and in a rebel area at that. The locals are apprehensive.

`In the Presence of My Enemies,’’ the book Gracia wrote (with Dean Merrill), is a gripping account of the hostages’ ordeal in the Mindanao jungle while in the hands of the Abu Sayyaf. The book’s title is a line from Psalm 23, the shepherd psalm.



Gracia offers her reflections at the end of her book. She lets it all out. She deals with questions that are hard to answer, questions about prayer and faith. Gracia does not rage against heaven, but one could sense that feeling of being let down at some point. Yes, she survived, but Martin died.

I am sure many of us have experienced feeling let down and asking, what was it all for—the prayers, the pleadings, the believing?

But a denouement must come at some point. It is the seemingly pointless waiting that is agonizing. And things do not always end well.

For those who have not read Gracia’s book, here is a portion from Chapter 22 (Reflections) that might resonate with your ``let-down’’ experience.

``We were sitting on the ground during a rest break after hard hiking, listening to gunfire in the distance, and I was moaning, ``We’re totally forgotten. Nobody’s going anything to help us. Nobody’s even praying for us anymore.’

``My good husband replied, `Gracia, you are wrong. Many people are still praying for us. And even if everyone has stopped, our two dads are carrying on, I promise you. Remember what James 5 says about the prayer of a righteous man? We have two of the best.’

``He was exactly right, of course. The prayers of Paul Burnham and Norvin Jones alone would have met the requirements of this verse.

``Obviously, the answer lies not in the number of prayers or the particular wording used in those prayers. There has to be another factor in the mix.

``So what is it?

``I can’t claim to know for sure. There is an awful lot of Scripture that still mystifies me. During one of my many conversations with God in the jungle, I remember arguing with him about John 15:7, one of the verses I had memorized as a child: `If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.’

``I said, Lord, you would have an excuse if the verse included an extra clause…`ye shall ask what ye will, and if I agree with you, it shall be done unto you.’ But it does not say that!

``These things are hard for all of us. And in my case, it’s not just an academic exercise. I lost a husband over this.’’

Ah, what the mind and the heart have to go through during dark moments. What more when the captors kept greeting one another with words of peace and uttered the name of Allah at every turn? Gracia took note of all these.

``Perhaps it’s useful to notice that while the verse in James says fervent prayer `availeth much.’ It does not say it `availeth everything.’ Why?’’

Gracia answers that herself by saying that the Abu Sayyaf and all of us still retain the power of personal choice, of standing against God’s will. God could have fired heavenly lasers into the brains of Janjalani, Musab and Sabaya, Gracia argues, but that would be making them like puppets.

``I find it helpful to think about this analogy: Asking God to free us despite the Abu Sayyaf’s rigidity was perhaps like ordering the US Marines to come get us despite a prohibition in the Philippine constitution against foreign troops ever again fighting on Philippine soil. This is rock-solid law born out of four centuries of colonialism, first under Spain, then the United States.

``Since returning home, I’ve learned just how badly the American military wanted to launch a special operation for us! I’ve been told how they sat around conference tables in Zamboanga City just itching for the opportunity. They would, of course, have done the job differently. They would have moved into action at, say, two in the morning instead of two in the afternoon, wearing night-vision goggles and all the rest to snatch us out safely.’’

I ask: Would the Americans have done it better? I doubt it.

Some people in America, Gracia says, ``want me to be offended and angry with the government for not doing this or that.’’ But Gracia is far from the depressed, morose and whimpering widow. She wants the world to know that. She recently founded the Martin and Gracia Burnham Foundation that supports missions around the world.

One day, as Gracia looked up into the wide Kansas sky, a deep happiness swept over her. And she heard herself saying out loud, ``Oh Martin—you were the best! You were the best.’’
Grace becomes Gracia.

How green is the SONA?

Environmental lawyer Antonio A. Oposa, Jr. whose green opus (two huge colorful books on the Philippine environment) I had featured here, is shaking the ramparts on behalf of all greenies.

Says he: ``In all of Pres. Arroyo’s three State of the Nation Addresses (SONA), she never said a single word on the environment. Repeat, not a single word was said on the condition of the very natural elements—land, air, water—upon which all life in this country depend.’’

Oposa’s little grievance paper is titled ``The President is an Environmental Ignoramus.’’ Ouch. ``Sometimes words have to be a little wild,’’ Oposa says, quoting JM Keynes ``Because they are the assault of thoughts upon the unthinking.’’

In painful silence the greenies listened to the past SONA, they waited for those few little green words. But they heard nothing.

After Pres. Arroyo won a mandate in the recent elections, she laid out her 10-point agenda. Again, not a single word on the environment. (Well, at least she wore green for her oath-taking.) This says something about the President’s level of awareness of the importance of air, water and land resources, Oposa points out. This is a symptom that she is suffering from a severe case of environmental ignorantia.



On Monday, July 26, the President will deliver her fourth SONA. Maybe this time she’ll add a splash of green to her address (not her dress). Or maybe not, not with released hostage Angelo de la Cruz there, taking center stage. You bet so many minutes will be devoted to the hostage crisis that led to the pull out of Philippine troops in Irag. You bet she will dwell on how it was to be between Iraq and a hard place. She will talk about more security for overseas Filipino workers (OFW) in the Middle East. They’re our dollar earners, aren’t they?

But environmental security, Oposa argues, is in fact the highest form of security. He or she who does not understand this has neither right nor reason to aspire for or hold public office. For the Philippine Constitution, lest you and I forget, speaks of the importance of a ``healthful and balanced ecology.’’

The President will surely zero in on the state of the economy. Oposa complains: ``We give too much importance to economics, totally forgetting that the base of all economic activity is the security, supply and quality of the very elements that support life—air, water and soil.’’ Didn’t the great Indian Chief Seattle say, ``Only when we have cut down all the trees, poisoned all the rivers and fished out all the seas, will we suddenly realize that we cannot eat money’’?

Economics is only a minor subset of the environment, the environmental law professor argues. Economics, is only a ``small and wholly-owned subsidiary of Ecology.’’

Economics and ecology, Oposa reminds, come from the same eco root. Eco comes from the Greek word oikos which means home. Ecology, the great science, (and art, if you may) of the environment, is about our natural home, Planet Earth, and all the living and non-living things therein that sustain life.

Come on, this is really ABC. But the UP and Harvard-trained lawyer likes to talk ABC. In the truest sense everyone is an environmentalist, he says, or should be, for who wants to drink poisoned water, breathe polluted air, eat dirty food? It goes without saying that protecting all these life-giving resources should be second nature to us. The problem is, we’re not doing this. Not all of us.

In contrast to the subject that is Ecology, Oposa says Economics is the very narrow study of the supply of things needed by a single animal to live. This animal is homo sapiens—us. Well, in fact, the natural elements in the environment are at the very foundation of this economic life. Without them there is no life, no economic life.

What a shame, Oposa rues, that in the name of economics, people have spoiled the air, dirtied the waters, scorched the earth, cleared the forests, leveled the mountains. Economic progress, anyone?

You can’t have good economics if you have bad ecology. The irony is that the exploitation of natural resources or the destruction of the ``natural capital’’ is often translated or recorded as ``profit’’. No one records the depreciation and depletion of the natural assets. The economic balance sheets do not record this. A system of accounting for our natural assets and liabilities has yet to be invented for economists.

Oposa worries: ``In the Laws of Nature, there is no right or wrong. There are only consequences. If the environmental crises and recurring tragedies do not awaken the President, if she is stuck in that economic mindset that treats depletion as revenue and losses as income, God save us from eternal damnation.’’

The Integrated Bar of the Philippines (IBP)and civic and environmental groups want to sponsor a public debate on the proposition: ``Environmental security is the highest form of national security.’’ For the affirmative side, the IBP National Environmental Action Team (of which Oposa is the founding chair) will field a three-person debating team.

The best and brightest in the President’s Cabinet are being challenged to join. Since the Arroyo administration has not included the environment and sustainable development in the National Agenda, it must justify its stance by taking the negative side of the debate, that is, by arguing that environmental security is not the highest form of national security.

The public be the judge. Should the affirmative side win, Oposa demands that the prize be the inclusion of and giving top priority to the natural environment and sustainable development in the government agenda.

Psalm for Angelo

Are we speaking as one? Are we standing as one to save his life?

Here is a puny man, a truck driver crouching on an immense world stage, awaiting his fate, his hands tied, knowing next to nothing about what is going on, his heart crying out, why am I here, what is my sin, what is my sin?

They don’t shoot their hostages over there, they prefer to sever the head from the torso. I don’t know how many more hours or days it will take before Angelo de la Cruz is either set free and allowed to go home to the Philippines or beheaded by his Iraqi captors.

I don’t know how many more hours or days it will take before the Philippine government accedes to Angelo’s captors’ demand that Philippine troops be withdrawn from Iraq. (While I was writing this, news came that troops will be withdrawn soon. The US government wasn’t pleased. FU!) I don’t know how many thousand candles have to be lighted, how many more prayer rallies and protest marches have to be staged in order that those who hold Angelo’s life in their hands would make the move to pave the way for his freedom.

Here at home, so many brutal words have been said, so much blame has been hurled. Name-calling, labeling, finger-pointing. The softening ingredients have all but been forgotten. One can’t help thinking—sure, everybody’s really trying to save Angelo’s life but... Are we speaking as one, standing as one, uh, doing prayer rallies as one?

Angelo waits while groups from a broad-spectrum of Angelo savers fall over each other. In the meantime, Angelo’s captors are getting more emboldened.



I will not believe anything about the final outcome of all these until I see Angelo walking free on Philippine soil.

This man with the angelic name and who carries the collective family name (de la Cruz, of the cross) that is appended to the Every Filipino Juan, is waiting for mercy, mercy and mercy. It’s either mercy or no mercy. There is no justice in all of this. Not from any side, whatever is the outcome. Not when a totally innocent man, whose family is living in near penury, has to be made a sacrificial lamb, so deliberately, so brutally. What did this poor man from Pampanga do to deserve this?

Long after he is released, if he is released alive, Angelo will have to live with the terror he has undergone. Terror will stalk his days and nights, for terror was the defining color of his slaving away in a foreign land so that his family back home could survive.

I hope Angelo comes home not only physically whole but psychologically intact as well. Only shaky and shaken, I hope. Not severely shattered.

Imagine Angelo imagining the sharpness of a blade brushing against his neck, hearing the sound of deadly weapons being fondled behind him. Death anytime, death anytime.

The line between despair and hope is so fine, it is sometimes much easier to go on a free-fall and be swallowed up in despair. If you have not looked despair and desolation in the eye, if you have not experienced what it is like to lose and lose badly because you are either poor or powerless against some overwhelming force, then you have not lived fully yet. Compassion is still just a word.

I think of Angelo and his helplessness, I think about what he must be doing now. Does he talk to his captors, does he talk to himself? What is he allowed to do? What does he want to do while in captivity? Does he want to sing the songs of his childhood, does he want to pray aloud, does he ask to sit in the sunshine and have pleasant thoughts of home? Does he regret anything?

Does he think his ordeal will be over soon? Does he think about the afterlife? Does he imagine a sharp blade suddenly cutting his neck so cleanly, it is painless after all?

I think of a stark Salvador Dali painting with the edges of things melting. I think of Angelo alone in that empty Dali vastness, pleading for mercy. I think of Psalm 137 and that weeping scene by the rivers of Babylon (which, I suppose, is the biblical Babylon not far from Baghdad). The psalm is about sorrow and hope in exile. I read it just now and I thought, ah, the psalmist of long ago wrote this for the Angelos of now. Somehow, I was comforted by it especially when I imagined it sung in a plaintive way by people I loved so well long ago and far aways.

I took the liberty of tampering with it, to recklessly lend contemporary distress to it. Anyway you could look up the original, or listen to the pop Gregorian version (Master of Chants II) sang by faux monks in velvet robes.

By the rivers of Babylon I sat mourning and weeping when I remembered my village home,
On the poplars of this strange land I hung up my instruments,
Here my captors asked for the words of a song,
My tormentors demanded a joyful hymn:
``Sing for us a song about the place where you were born!’’
But how could I sing a song about God and country in hostile territory?

If I forget you, my village, may my right hand wither,
May my tongue stick to my palate if I do not remember you and speak about you to the men who plan to slice off my head,
May my heart explode if I do not exalt in the thought that I love you beyond all my delights.

Remember now, Lord, the battles that have been fought,
The occupiers said, ``Level it, level it down to its foundations!’’
The occupied shouted, ``You destroyers, happy those who pay you back the evil you have done us!
Happy those who seize your children and smash them against a rock.’’
Here I am Lord, by the rivers of Babylon, by the rivers of Babylon.