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Silence
and Rage
By Antonio Montalvan II
Inquirer News Service
CHRISTIAN monasticism
has a tradition of silence that is at once profound and formidable.
There are Catholic religious monasteries, for example, where
the evening period, which lasts until dawn, is a period of
"Great Silence." In their traditions, silence is
essential to prayer and piety and is deemed as a profound
way of listening to God.
But non-monastic religious orders have
also appropriated the tradition of silence. The Jesuits, for
example, undergo the 30-day retreat of the so-called Ignatian
Exercises, where the retreatants can opt for silence-that
is, 30 days without conversation, unless it is carried out
with the retreat director.
Then there is the non-divine side of
silence-as the Mafia's dreaded "omerta" -- the code
that binds a mafioso from "spilling the beans" on
a crime committed by a fellow mafioso. Needless to say, the
violation of the code can cost a mafioso his life. This is
one instance where silence is used as a tool for abetting
crime.
But apart from its dramatic uses, silence
is also practiced in everyday life, depending on the mores
and customs of a culture group. There is the so-called "silent
treatment" that two persons in a state of misunderstanding
may resort to. In this case, the silence is broken when the
differences are mended.
On the other hand, romping kids are sometimes
hushed to silence by the adults in the household with a "shhh!"
Silence has its golden moments, too. In another context, I
have seen families whose table manners sway into delightful
conversations breaking into wholesome laughter. But they make
it a point never to laugh at other peoples' mistakes. They
simply do not stab people behind their backs. Any sassy interjection
is met with silence, a signal that such talk is uncharitable.
The dictum "less talk, less mistake"
is another form of silence in the context of self-preservation.
In another context, silence may be the only "choice"
available to people under a despotic regime. Sociopolitical
pundits refer to this kind of silence as a "culture of
silence." But in the classic song "The Sound of
Silence," Simon and Garfunkel remind us that "silence
(is) like a cancer (that) grows." Taken to mean in a
sociological light, the "silent majority" may be
silent for now but not for long. Rage can be silent, but as
a saying goes, "Silent waters run deep."
I want to understand what the silence
of Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo on the "Garci" tape controversy
means. And I am reminded of a real-life anecdote about a girl
who was suspected of wrongdoing by her parents. The girl admitted
her mistake-that was after her father spoke to her and told
her one simple truth: the importance of a good name and the
power we have to achieve that name.
Gloria told clerics in Cagayan de Oro
that she is in a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't situation.
The opposition will aim for the kill whether she admits or
not that the female voice in the controversial tape is hers,
she said.
Such narrow vision surprises me. I do
not say she is guilty. It may not be her on the tape, after
all -- given today's age of immense technological possibilities.
I give her the benefit of doubt. But if you listen to the
tapes and read the transcript, and use as hypothesis that
it was an official of a constitutionally independent body
she was talking to -- and she was at that time a candidate
who enjoyed the perks of her incumbent office -- then the
matter is something that certainly should not be met with
silence. That is precisely why I think she is not damned either
way. She truly has a choice. At the very least, she can apologize
for impropriety. And I think the Filipino people will believe
her, nay, even respect her. Why, we have short memories anyway
and, at best, we are easily forgiving. Look, we have forgotten
Joseph Estrada's midnight Cabinet carousals and Laarni's (Laarni
Enriquez, one of Estrada's mistresses) mansions.
On the other hand, if she does an admission
and relinquishes power, won't she be hailed for statesmanship?
Gloria is now at the crossroads: one direction gives her the
choice to preserve a good name. A good name in history is
priceless. But I do not think she understands the great value
of the opportunity that now lies before her.
So what does her silence mean? Without
saying she is guilty, I think it means this: arrogance. When
a family member is suspected of wrongdoing, her family first
asks: Did you do it? That is now what Gloria's Filipino family
is asking. And ask they should. For Malacañang is not
all about power. It also signifies service. But when the person
who is asked simply ignores the question, now that is haughtiness.
How much more if the silence comes from a person who has the
obligation to answer the question?
If there is anybody who needs to be silent,
it is the demagogues out there taking advantage of the precarious
situation we now are in. Why, even Samuel Ong is suspect and
shouldn't be off the hook himself. Why was he surrounded by
FPJ's honchos? Why could JV Ejercito not hide his glee as
he called in the crowd a la Edsa and declared that his father,
detained in a villa, is ready to take the reins of government,
as an interim president? Many opposition leaders immediately
issued statements reminiscent, or even suggestive, of People
Power. And Bishop Teodoro Bacani was no help either by impressing
upon us a subliminal message, blessing Ong who is part of
the problem. The demagogues must shut up. It is Gloria who
needs to talk.
What we need at this time is a respite
from our lying, blabbering, rumor-mongering, politicking national
leaders. And what great silence it will truly be.
Comments to monta@cu-cdo.edu.ph
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