Unity

Unity” is all very well as a catch-word but what does it really mean? In a sense, we were all united for a time under martial law. Few will accept it now but there were many who actually liked it while it lasted. The fact of empty streets at night, less parties for middle class kids, the idea of discipline above all, above freedom, above dissent; these were not at all bad especially for those who were advantaged in material goods and power. They relished the sense of safety and stability resulting from Marcos’ authoritarian government. Otherwise, others less fortunate simply kept their peace for fear of punishment. Except for a few people often described at that time as “radical elements,” all were united inside a cocoon of silence.

Those who are old enough know exactly what it feels like to live inside this cocoon, this silence borne of fear. They know what it feels like to look silently at all the obvious faults and contradictions about them, and then keep their peace mainly because the cost of speaking out was equally as obvious as the faults themselves. In time, this world becomes Eden for those who simply do not care about anything else besides their own selfish interests. They tell themselves: This is only how things are done. This is only politics in general. This is how power works. This is the best we can hope for.

And yet, history proves time and again how this sort of unity tends eventually to destroy itself, like Cronus, of ancient myth, devouring his own children. For we know how this type of unity is only fodder for greed and abuse. It can only encourage corruption not only in the sense of officials stealing government money but also corruption across the board. In time, there is a chronic moral decay that makes all sorts of injustice possible, even acceptable. This, for as long as they are partially hid and no one speaks openly about them. But you can hide the truth only to some small extent. In time, the number of those who see things for what they are can only increase. Even if for the meantime most people will still keep their silence. Still, they will gawk in awe at those who care to speak but do not care about punishment and cost. They become the voice of the silent, at first only to the few, but then eventually for more and more people. They become the seeds of change, real and true.

And there are as many sorts of change as there are many sorts of unity. Things can always get worse if they do not become better. Just as surely as that there can be the unity of the silent and the dead as well as unity born from the sacrifices of people who speak out the truth no matter the cost. And if we want to defend ourselves from change for the worse, our best defense is never silence. There is always some new thing to be said about speaking out. And if we want to prepare ourselves for the future, the best way is always to make ourselves examples that would teach the children to speak out no matter what.

In UP Cebu campus in Lahug, banners have once again sprouted near the Oblation demanding the immediate enforcement of the dean’s dismissal by the UP Board of Regents. And yet because the banners are made only of cloth, you can never really tell who they speak for and for how many. It is easy to put up banners and slogans. Marcos did that all the time.

Yet when he walks the campus, this writer comes across people who congratulate him for what he is doing, albeit secretly. For that is perhaps how the majority here gets by: secretly and in silence. But no matter. There is a truth about the issue of the dean that must be set in words and read and then spoken softly like a prayer for the future. Even if he is guilty of the  three alleged “sins” he is accused of—the temporary filling material material on the soccer field, the appointment of Prof. Ernesto Pineda, and the giving of centennial bonuses for the college—those three “sins” cannot possibly warrant his dismissal from service. At worst, they might remove him from being dean. But to dismiss him after more than 20 years of excellent service and for doing all these things under the review of an advisory committee including one then-active and two former presidents of UP can only be the travesty of justice that it obviously is. It can only put the university in a worse light that it is in already. The only way, he deserves to be dismissed is if it can be proven beyond doubt that he stole money. Short of that, the dismissal cannot hold either as a just legal option or as something educated people, teachers no less, ought to find tolerable.

So far, this writer has written much to recover Dean Enrique Avila’s good reputation. He believes he has succeeded in that. He writes now not for the dean but simply for the college itself. And this is how he would rest his case: This silence is not the right basis for a unity that will serve us well. This sort of unity is a seal of some sort. What it seals, I leave for you to guess. But remember these words from a famous print by the Spanish maestro Francisco Goya: “El sueno de la razon produces monstrous.”