Flowers from The Rubble
By Conrado de Quiros
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:03:00 06/02/2009
I’ve always liked the image of flowers from the rubble, enough to have made it the title of my first book, a collection of early columns. I first saw it in a poem by a Vietnamese about Vietnam at the height of the Vietnam War. It wasn’t flowers he mentioned though, if I recall right, it was tufts of grass shooting out. From the rubble that Vietnam had been turned into by its invaders, he wrote, the Vietnamese spirit would push out like tufts of grass, stubbornly, courageously, transcendently. Like life pushing out from the thorny thicket of death. Or words to that effect.
Whether it’s tufts of grass or flowers or the first sprouts of greenery climbing out of the black pit, it’s a great image for the assertiveness of life. It’s a great image for the resilience of a people. It’s a great image for the indomitability of the human spirit.
That was the phrase that kept buzzing through my head while in Puerto Princesa the other weekend. What pushed the image through the rubble in my brain (courtesy of a night spent toasting to the wonders of the place) was the sudden realization that underneath the rubble our unelected rulers have turned this country into, a desolate place where vultures perch on top of the wreckage and ruin, tufts of grass or flowers or the first sprouts of greenery are pushing out. Determinedly, vigorously, courageously. It did help that the place bristled with lushness and greenery to sprout that image. But it did help even more that the place throbbed with life, or pulsed with the spirit of a community renewed.
I thought: We do not lack for places like this in the country. Specifically, we do not lack for towns or cities or provinces which, having leaders with character and vision to lead them, are offering a decent life for their inhabitants and hope for the rest of the populace. They are testaments to the resilience of the race, to the capacity of the people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps.
Naga City is one of them. My favorite image of Jesse Robredo is still that of being knee-deep in mud, shoveling the putrid mass out of the front yard of a church. A super storm had driven deep into Naga City many years ago and ravaged it, the floodwaters tearing down into the city and rising to alarming levels before subsiding. It had left mud spills across the city, and Robredo, awake at the crack of one very gray dawn, had gone out in shorts and, armed with a shovel, had been first to start clearing up the mess. He was soon joined by other people in the effort. Example has a way of compelling more than all the exhortations in the world.
Pampanga and Isabela are two others. At the height of the recall campaign against Ed Panlilio, his detractors complained bitterly about his inefficiency or ineptness, proof of it apparently being his refusal to put the provincial revenue, which had grown startlingly overnight, in the hands of officials other than those in his trusted group. Money that presumably would have gone to improving Pampanga. Well, why on earth should he? Why on earth should he put the money in the hands of people who were responsible in the first place for revenues not growing, or indeed decreasing, during their bosses’ watch?
I leave Panlilio and Grace Padaca to flaunt their record in public service, though it is one of the supreme ironies of life (which is why evil often thrives) that the deserving are not wont to parade their virtues, they have better things to do. From where I stand, however, curbing corruption, which both have done magnificently in their turfs, is an epic achievement in and of itself. Particularly in times when thievery is extolled and honesty disparaged, that shines brilliantly like a beacon in a storm-tossed sea.
There were/are as well Olongapo then under Richard Gordon (some insist he was a better executive officer than legislator), Marikina under Bayani Fernando (he lost his soul when he gained Metro Manila), and Makati under Jojo Binay (the favorite mayor of senior citizens). I refuse to include Davao City because of the extrajudicial killings there. That smacks of official policy.
But I am especially impressed by Puerto Princesa because it combines these merits or pluses. It has curbed corruption, City Hall running without much red tape. It has restored peace and order—it has one of the lowest, if not the lowest, crime rates in the country, tourists never having to fear toting their expensive cameras and cell phones in public and it has done this without resorting to torturing or “salvaging” suspects. It has done this the old-fashioned way, which is by making law enforcement modern.
More than this, it has brought progress without sacrificing the future to the present. It has done so in a completely self-sustaining way, something the other model cities and provinces may not always boast of. Call Edward Hagedorn what you will, but you’ve got to admire his unshakeable resolve to protect the environment. Or what is bad news to Malacañang and its cronies, his unswerving commitment to not allow mining and logging in his turf. Puerto Princesa is pushing out of the wilderness without destroying the wilderness.
These are flowers from the rubble. This is the resilience of a people amid war—you look at the debris and rubble around us and you’ll know we are in the midst of war, as real and devastating as the Vietnam War. A war waged by the government against its own people. Maybe these flowers are the Obama we’ve been looking for, maybe these leaders are the Obama we’ve been waiting for. Certainly they have shown that there are no limits to how far we can go with honesty and courage, with vision and political will.
Question is: How do we propagate their kind? How do we make them the true leaders of the nation?
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:03:00 06/02/2009
I’ve always liked the image of flowers from the rubble, enough to have made it the title of my first book, a collection of early columns. I first saw it in a poem by a Vietnamese about Vietnam at the height of the Vietnam War. It wasn’t flowers he mentioned though, if I recall right, it was tufts of grass shooting out. From the rubble that Vietnam had been turned into by its invaders, he wrote, the Vietnamese spirit would push out like tufts of grass, stubbornly, courageously, transcendently. Like life pushing out from the thorny thicket of death. Or words to that effect.Whether it’s tufts of grass or flowers or the first sprouts of greenery climbing out of the black pit, it’s a great image for the assertiveness of life. It’s a great image for the resilience of a people. It’s a great image for the indomitability of the human spirit.
That was the phrase that kept buzzing through my head while in Puerto Princesa the other weekend. What pushed the image through the rubble in my brain (courtesy of a night spent toasting to the wonders of the place) was the sudden realization that underneath the rubble our unelected rulers have turned this country into, a desolate place where vultures perch on top of the wreckage and ruin, tufts of grass or flowers or the first sprouts of greenery are pushing out. Determinedly, vigorously, courageously. It did help that the place bristled with lushness and greenery to sprout that image. But it did help even more that the place throbbed with life, or pulsed with the spirit of a community renewed.
I thought: We do not lack for places like this in the country. Specifically, we do not lack for towns or cities or provinces which, having leaders with character and vision to lead them, are offering a decent life for their inhabitants and hope for the rest of the populace. They are testaments to the resilience of the race, to the capacity of the people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps.
Naga City is one of them. My favorite image of Jesse Robredo is still that of being knee-deep in mud, shoveling the putrid mass out of the front yard of a church. A super storm had driven deep into Naga City many years ago and ravaged it, the floodwaters tearing down into the city and rising to alarming levels before subsiding. It had left mud spills across the city, and Robredo, awake at the crack of one very gray dawn, had gone out in shorts and, armed with a shovel, had been first to start clearing up the mess. He was soon joined by other people in the effort. Example has a way of compelling more than all the exhortations in the world.
Pampanga and Isabela are two others. At the height of the recall campaign against Ed Panlilio, his detractors complained bitterly about his inefficiency or ineptness, proof of it apparently being his refusal to put the provincial revenue, which had grown startlingly overnight, in the hands of officials other than those in his trusted group. Money that presumably would have gone to improving Pampanga. Well, why on earth should he? Why on earth should he put the money in the hands of people who were responsible in the first place for revenues not growing, or indeed decreasing, during their bosses’ watch?
I leave Panlilio and Grace Padaca to flaunt their record in public service, though it is one of the supreme ironies of life (which is why evil often thrives) that the deserving are not wont to parade their virtues, they have better things to do. From where I stand, however, curbing corruption, which both have done magnificently in their turfs, is an epic achievement in and of itself. Particularly in times when thievery is extolled and honesty disparaged, that shines brilliantly like a beacon in a storm-tossed sea.
There were/are as well Olongapo then under Richard Gordon (some insist he was a better executive officer than legislator), Marikina under Bayani Fernando (he lost his soul when he gained Metro Manila), and Makati under Jojo Binay (the favorite mayor of senior citizens). I refuse to include Davao City because of the extrajudicial killings there. That smacks of official policy.
But I am especially impressed by Puerto Princesa because it combines these merits or pluses. It has curbed corruption, City Hall running without much red tape. It has restored peace and order—it has one of the lowest, if not the lowest, crime rates in the country, tourists never having to fear toting their expensive cameras and cell phones in public and it has done this without resorting to torturing or “salvaging” suspects. It has done this the old-fashioned way, which is by making law enforcement modern.
More than this, it has brought progress without sacrificing the future to the present. It has done so in a completely self-sustaining way, something the other model cities and provinces may not always boast of. Call Edward Hagedorn what you will, but you’ve got to admire his unshakeable resolve to protect the environment. Or what is bad news to Malacañang and its cronies, his unswerving commitment to not allow mining and logging in his turf. Puerto Princesa is pushing out of the wilderness without destroying the wilderness.
These are flowers from the rubble. This is the resilience of a people amid war—you look at the debris and rubble around us and you’ll know we are in the midst of war, as real and devastating as the Vietnam War. A war waged by the government against its own people. Maybe these flowers are the Obama we’ve been looking for, maybe these leaders are the Obama we’ve been waiting for. Certainly they have shown that there are no limits to how far we can go with honesty and courage, with vision and political will.
Question is: How do we propagate their kind? How do we make them the true leaders of the nation?
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