Panorama

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Part of Panorama

Title: Panorama
Issue Date: Volume XV (Issue No.1) January 1963
Year: 1963
Language: English
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extracted text: Zell your friends about the Panorama, the Philippines’ most versatile, most significant magazine today. (five them a year’s subscription — NCI they will appreciate it. Subscription Form ............. 1 year for P8.50 ...............2 years for .............. Foreign subscription: one year $6.00 U.S. Name ............................................................................ •Street ................................................................................ City or Town ................................ Province ................... Enclosed is o check/money order for the amount specified aboM Pleose address all checks or money orders in favor of: COMMUNITY PUBLISHERS, INC. Invernes St., Sto. Ana, Manila, Philippines .tentinn: All organization heads and members! Help pour club raise funds painlessly ... Join the Panorama "Fund-Raising by Subscriptions” plan today! The Panorama Fund-Raising by Subscriptions plan will get you, your friends, and your relatives a year’s sub scription to Panorama. 1 he Panorama is easy to sell. It practically sells itself, which means more money for your organization. The terms of the Panorama Fund-Raising by Sub scriptions plan are as follows: (1) Any accredited organization in the Philippines can lire advantage of the Plan. (2) The organization will use its facilities to sell sub scriptions to Panorama. G) For every subscription sold the organization will get Pl.00. The more subscriptions the organization sells, the more money it gets. CONTENTS A & C Pact What of the New Morality? ............................................ Andres Bonifacio, 1863-1897 Leopoldo Y. Yables ............. ....................... When Spain Came to the Philippines Carmen Guerrero Nakpil, .................. Our Cultural Ambivalence Vivencio Jose .......... Three Days That Saved the World Ask Me Another ............................... Flag Salute and Patriotism ............. The Continuing Fight for Civil Liberties ............................. 3$ Messiohnism and Liberty Macario T. Vicencio ..................................... 41 The Presidential Term Ferdinand Tinio ............................................ 46 The Good Teacher ......................................................................... 92 Television: The New Opium of the People Maurice Woods ............................................. AS The Need for Enlightened Journalism and Journalists . . JJj Pressures on Asian Editors Rohan Rivett ........................... 6t The Unadjusted Man Peter Viereck ............................. 71 fax Vol. XV MANILA, PHILIPPINES No. 1 The mood, one remembers, started when someone an nounced from the tree-tops that under the New Era there would be a moral regeneration based on simple living and the ■elimination of graft and corruption at all levels of our society. So the “big heads” began to roll, to set the examples. And 'he cry was taken up from every quarter by the trumpeters of the New Era. And its bloodhounds were let loose on the trail of the “wrongdoers.” Vested interests drew the initial fire. Forthwith, big names toppled in the dust under the glare of adverse publicity. This one used his gold to gain political power. That one acquired a vast estate through illegal means. That other one had unethical relations with Uncle Harry. And many others, who were presumably wal lowing in unexplained wealth. This was all for “the public good.” Except that, the purgers drew the line on who are to be purged and who are to be spared, and even patted on the back. And the whole drive took on a partisan hue. He is not with us. Out with him! He wants to fight us. Give him hell! All, in the name of moral regeneration — under the New Era. Is there perforce a hew moral code? When people talk of the “new morality,” writes Jose Ortega y Gas set of western society, “they are merely committing a new immorality and looking for a way of introducing contraband goods.” Ho-hm. It is not easy to understand why the founder of the Katipunan and the father of the Revolution has not as yet been duly recognized by his people. ANDRES BONIFACIO, 1863-1897 Leopoldo Y. Yabes It is easy to understand why neither Spain nor Am erica has been very kind to the memory of Andres Boni facio: Spain because Bonifa cio initiated the armed move ment which ultimately over threw her rule over the Phil ippines, and America because the idea alone of a subversive movement like Bonifacio’s would not have been contributive to the stability of her own regime. However, it is not easy to understand why the founder of the Katipunan and father of the Revolution, which made possible the eventual restoration of Philippine in dependence, has not as yet been duly recognized by his people, who are now enjoy ing the fruits of that indeypendence, for what he was — v their main liberator and a leading architect of Philip pine democracy. This year will mark Boni facio’s centenary, having been. born on 30 November 1863, in Tondo, Manila, of a poor couple. CThe oldest of six, children, he found himself at) a young age saddled with the;,. > responsibility of supporting the family because of the early death of both parents The best information avail able to date is that he reach ed only the primary school, although there is unverified claim to the effect that his formal schooling reached the third year of secondary in struction. Regardless of whether the claim is true or not, the fact is that Boni facio was a voracious and as siduous reader, and so what he lacked in formal educa tion he made up for in cons 2 Panorama cientious and wide reading in serious literature. So, between eking out a ■difficult living by making canes and paper fans and working in two foreign estab lishments and instructing himself, he was being made painfully aware gradually of the rottenness of the society he was living in and of the ■cessity of drastic action to .*aprove the situation. Or iginally he may not have en tertained thoughts of revolu tion; the Filipino propagan dists in Spain originally were assimilationists (M. H. del Pilar himself did not advo cate separation until the last months of his life); it was on ly after Rizal was deported to Dapitan and the Liga Fil ipino was dissolved that he and a few other patriots or ganized the Katipunan on 7 July 1892, obviously as a last resort. The staying power and growth of the Katipunan as a secret revolutionary organ ization may be attributed chiefly to the superior qua lities of Bonifacio as an or ganizer and leader. That it was discovered sooner than expected may be attributed no longer to some fault in or ganization but to deficiency of character and to conflict in loyalty of certain members of a society where ultimate loyalty should have been, but unfortunately was not, to the national community then in the process of being formed. The strike for freedom an nounced to the world by Bonifacio and his katipuneros in August 1896 could not have surprised any obserant student of the times, because the restiveness of the native population in Manila and in the provinces was too ob vious to escape the attention of the perceptive observer. The people’s answer to the call to arms was spirited and spontaneous, and if the revch lutionists only had more and better arms at the beginning of hostilities, they could have subdued the Spanish forces and overthrown the colonial regime within the first few months, before effective re inforcements could arrive from Spain. As a result of the protracted conflict and inevitable setbacks for the in adequately armed insurgents, there arose a conflict in lead ership of the revolutionary organization which ended in JANUARY 1963 S the unfortunate and unneces sary elimination of the foun der of-the movement, on 10 May 1897, under dubious cir cumstances. The forced exit of Bonifa cio in the manner it happen ed was to a great extent his own fault. He was naive or unsuspecting enough to ac cept an invitation to go to a rebel territory where he was not sure his authority was re cognized, hoping he could set tle factional disputes there. He discovered, to his sorrow, that he had played into the hands of his rivals. NQt ex pecting the humiliating treat ment given him, he reacted quite sharply to the insults, but his action drew a reprisal, from which he was helpless to protect himself and his bro ther. The stature of Bonifacio will grow greater as the Fil ipino nation emancipates it self gradually from the colo nial mentality that has afficted it these last four centuri*** and as it asserts its indepen, ence and integrity in its deal ings with itself and with other nations. Bonifacio can be the hero only of a self-respecting and enlightened people; not of a nation of intellectual slaves and spiritual obscuran tists. BETTER ALIVE THAN DEAD All who are not lunatics are agreed about certain things: That it is better to be alive than dead, better to be adequately fed than starved, better to be free than a slave. Many people desire those things only for themselves and their friends; they are quite con tent that their enemies should suffer. These people can be refuted by science: Mankind has become so •much one family that we cannot insure our own pros perity except by insuring that of everyone else. If you wish to be happy yourself, you must resign yourself to seeing others also happy. — Bertrand Russell. 4 Panorama Whitt if Magellan had not come upon the Philip* pinta? This remains an intriguing tpoculation, but it it too late for that. This historical essay tells what happened.* Carmen Guerrero-Nakpil It is an orthodox—as it is deplorable—to begin any ac count of Philippine history with Fernando de Magalla nes. Many brave attempts have been made, especially in recent years, to push back the beginnings of formal history. Most Filipinos now gag at both term and concept of “discovery by the Spaniards,” cite Chao Ju-kua, the Chinese official and geographer who described the Philippines in 1280 and try to quote even earlier fragments of Indone sian, Chinese and Japanese records. It is unnecessary here to argue and fret over the lack of pre-Magellanic re cords or to point with out raged adjectives at the delib erate culturecide of the colo nizers. It is still simpler, if less faithful to one’s histori cal sense, to assume that as far as we are concerned, pre Spanish is almost synonymous with pre-history. The fact is that, like Chur chill’s British isles, our is lands-have been "the creature of men and events across the seas.” The great larid up heaval which, geologists maintain, wrenched us from the mainland of Asia; the wave upon wave of Indone sians and Malays who crossed the seas to-merge their blood into the Filipino nation; the early Chinese, Indians, Japa nese and other Asians who came to trade and stayed to marry, teach and rule were perhaps no less important to our history than the unpreposessing Portuguese naviga tor Magellan. But while he JANUARY 1963 5 and the powerful forces be hind him live on in history, they, his Asiatic precursors, have become almost impossi ble to discern. “The documentary history of the Philippines,” wrote the American scholar Bourne, “begins with the Demarca tion Bulls and the Treaty of Tordesillas, for out of them grew Magellan’s voyage and the discovery of the is lands.” Certainly, whether the Pope was to halve the world like an orange for Spain and Portugal and whe ther Fernando and Isabel of Castille and Joao of Portu gal were to redraw the line 370 leagues west of the Ca bo Verde Islands "for the sake of peace and concord” was something of a turningpoint in our history. Other opinions ascribe the begin nings of Philippine history in western records to the Isla mic blockade of Europe which, by running the trade routes to the East, sparkled the age of exploration, the desire for the Christianiza tion of unknown lands and to the growing convictionone which seems unbelievab ly simple to modern minds— that the earth was round. At any rate, on a Saturday morning, on March 16, 1521 we see (through the eyes of the Venetian Pigafetta) the small bearded unimposing figure (lame in one leg if we are to credit one historian) of Fernando de Magellanes, standing on the deck of his ship Trinidad and peering at the horizon where the heights of Samar had just becor discernible. We see him tl next day landing on the tiny island of Homonhon, ex claiming with his sailors over traces of gold in the earth, setting up tents for his sick men, and a day later, meet ing a party of nine men out for a day’s sport. These were the first island ers Magellan and his expedi tion saw. Pigafetta found them graceful, neat and courteous, "ornately adorn ed” with gold earrings and armlets and "very pleasant and conversable.” On anoth er island explorers met na tives travelling in large boats, armed with swords, daggers, spears and bucklers, eating and drinking out of porce lain dishes and jars, living in houses built "like a hayloft,” thatched, raised on “huge posts of wood” and divided 6 Panorama into “rooms like ours.” They were governed by a, king dressed in embroidered silk, □erfumed and tattooed whose dishes and “portions of his ^ouse” were made of gold. In Cebu, the Europeans net the self-assured but prud ent Rajah Colombo who first demanded tribute of the vhite strangers and then, on the advice of a Siamese trad er who had met the power ful Portuguese in India, ac ceded to their offer of friend ship. Pigafetta’s first impres sions are significant: they first saw Coloirtbo seated on a mat in his palace, wearing fabulous jewelry of gold and precious gems, delicately picking at a sophisticated meal of turtle eggs and palm wine sipped with reed pipes. For entertainment he had four girl? “almost as large and «s white as our own wo men,” noted the Venetian with Renaissance roguery, dancing to musical instru ments consisting of brass gongs and drums. The queen when they met her was “young and beautiful", with mouth and nails reddened, wearing a black and white cloak and a hat “like a pope’s tiara” and attended in great pomp. The strangers also remark ed—as did the explorers who were to come after them— that the natives had weights and measures, calendars, bamboo manuscripts, a reli gious body of beliefs with painted idols and the offer ing of the sacrifices, an or derly and stable social struc ture governed by oral and written laws and elaborate manners and customs, vast and active trade among them selves and with neigboring countries. There was also am ple evidence of mines, looms, farms, naval constructions, the raising of poultry and stock, pearl fishers, civet, horn and hide industries and, as Magellan was to discover with his dying breath an ef ficient military. These were the spirited, self-sufficient, bold and lusty men who were to become transformed, by some alche my of conquest and coloni zation, into the indolent, dull, improvident i n d i o s who would have to be prodded with the tip of Spanish boot or flogged at the church door because they were so timid, and so stupid and whom the JANUARY 1963 7 Americans, much later would find unfit to govern them selves. The modern mind balks at the circumstances which made a Papal Bull and a let ter from the Spanish incon testable legal title to these Asian islands. It is hard for us to accept the simplicity and presumption of this stranger from halfway around the earth to stand on a Visayan beach and, erecting a cross, claim to have discover ed for his king lands which existed and prospered when Iberia was marshland. How preposterous! we say; but Magellan did not think so. Creature of his age and race, he had all the lordly audacity of the race of the explorers and discoverers. Ex tremely able, patient, ingeni ous and resolute he was also fiercely imaginative and indo mitable. His heritage was that of Prince Henry the Na vigator, of Vasco da Gama who had gone to India and returned to Portugal with merchandise worth sixty times the original cost of the expedition; of Columbus who had set out With a letter to the king of Cathay and found America; of Ponce de Leon, Cortes, Pizarro, and Balboi. It is not easy to understand the world of Magellan wify its insatiable curiosity for th< unknown, its inordinate de sire for adventure and re. nown and the fableci weald of the Indies, a world so fulj of unshakeable courage anq faith that is set out on wood, en ships to conquer thu trackless seas and the pathles: continents. Magellan's personal history before his great voyage was typical of a lower class noble man of the 16th century. Brought up as page in the ro yal court of Portugal, where he grew up in the exciting company of cosmographers, hydrographers and swords men, Magellan saw service in Africa and was soon deter mined to embark on a career of exploration. Because the Portuguese king ignored his plan to reach the Spice Is land—there must have been dozens of such ambitious pro posals from all manner of courtiers and adventurers in the Portuguse court—Magel lan renounced his citizenship, went to Spain and offered his services to the Spanish mo narch. The Spaniards prov ed no more receptive to his 8 Panorama plans of exploration than his < om p a tr iots: for many months Magellan was quite a 4 est at court, showing every one his little painted globe. In his desperation, he decid ed to make exploration a pri vate venture—a not uncom mon method in that age. He had secured the backing of Christopher Haro, a wealthy Antwerp merchant, and was nil but ready to sail on his own initiative when the Spa nish king, set on his ear by such determination, finally signed a contract of “capitu lation” with the Portuguese mariner. Leaving a wife and a six-month-old son behind, Magellan set sail on August ~}0, 1519 from Seville, with five ships, 256 men, and the promise of staggering wealth and fame on a voyage that was to include mutiny, star vation, astounding discover ies, terrible hardship and at last, the circumnavigation of the globe. Yet, “the greatest naviga tor of all time” as Magellan has been called, was to meet his match in a Malayan chieftain, Rajah Lapu-Lapu, whom western historians have called with undisquised an noyance "a naked savage.” Lapu-Lapu was, from early youth, an excellent fighter and swordsman. He had in comparable bravery and a subtle intelligence. He had fought and manuevered him self from the position of mere datu to that of the major ru ler of the island of Mactan and when the Europeans came he had spies in the courts of his rival kings in Cebu with instructions to ob serve the fighting gears and tactics of the newcomers. With uncanny pre-science, he mistrusted this matter of mak ing friends with the white men. When Magellan, prodded by his new allies, Humabon of Cebu and Zula of Mactan, determined to make this surly native chieftain sub mit to him or he “would know how our lances wound ed,” Lapu-Lapu was prepar ed. He sent back an equally arrogant answer: if the stranger had iron lances, he had lances of bamboo and they were more terrible. He dug pitholes along the beach, retreated and waited for the Spaniards to approach. Leav ing their boats in the shal low waters and boastfully charging their native allies to JANUARY 1963 9 leave the fighting to them, the Spaniards, once on land, were quickly outflanked, out numbered and outshot. In an effort to turn the tide of bat tle, Magellan ordered his men to burn the houses of natives. Forever afterwards, western men in Asia would make the same mistake and would think that acts of sa vagery and inhumanity would increase their power. The sight of their burning villag es^ instead of terrifying the natives, infuriated them and they fell upon the white men with loud cries until those who were not slain ran back to their boats. Magellan was wounded by a poisoned arrow in his arm, and a bamboo spear in his face, and -no longer able to draw his sword, he was cut down with a kampilan, the native cut-lass, and falling face down the water, was overwhelmed by LapuLapu’s warriors. Their leader dead, still an other tragedy overtook the expedition. Their two newlyelected captains, Barbosa and Serrano, went ashore at Cebu to attend a banquet or to ask for pilots to direct them to Borneo (historians differ) and they and a score of others were massacred by the Cebuans, only recently baptized and embraced in friendship. Pigafetta says the massacre was an act of vengeance t the Malay slave Enrique whom the new captain had abused. Another authority says that the rape of Cebuan women by the Spaniards was the cause of the massacre. It is more logical to suppose that it was the result of thie Spaniards’ loss of prestige air Mactan. Humabon and his allies had, after all, been merely temporizing: they had been warned that the Euro peans were too powerful to resist. But after Lapu-Lapu had proved that the white men were not invincible there was no point to continuing a dangerous friend ship. Nor did their new Christianity, built on so fra gile a foundation as whole sale baptisms and the pro mise of a suit armor from the Spanish king, deter them from slaughtering the evan gelists. The Spaniards lost from 20 to 30 men, Serrano and a few others being still alive when the ships set sail “in great fear of further treach ery.” The expedition stopp 10 Panorama ed at Bohol to burn the now undermanned ship Concep cion, and at Mindanao and Palawan, before finally leav ing the archipelago, not with out hearing of the large and prosperous island of Luzon in the north, where it was said, the Chinese traded. Thus ended the first contact be tween Spain and what was to be known as the Philip pines. Although its ultimate ef fects on the native popula tion were probably negligi ble. We can assume that, for a long time, no one question ed the supremacy of LapuLapu in that area, although progress of his career is lost in time, and that inlanders returned to their old life, the only trace of the Spaniards being a curious new idol in the Queen’s palace, which fifty years later Legaspi’s men would recognize as the image of the Child Jesus. The effect of the Magella nic expedition on Castille and Europe was much more lasting and dramatic. Magel lan discoveries not only prov ed that the earth is round and accomplished the circum navigation of the globe but tantalized the Spanish crown, the trade houses and the, whole area of explorers. Two more expeditions—under Loaisa and Saavedra—both unsuccesful, were sent. In 1529, King Charles, in financial straits, sold all claims to the Spice Island and all other lands west for 350,000 ducats. This treaty was “a plain re nunciation” of any rights over the Philippines, yet both Charles and Philip later chose to ignore it and sent, first, Villalobos who it was who named the islands Filipinas and twenty years later Legaspi, whose great expedi tion, fitted out from new Spain in America “establish ed the power of Spain in the Philippines and laid the foundations of their perma nent organization.” What if Magellan had not come upon the Philippines? Most historians are agreed that we would have become a Portuguese colony, also Christian and Europeanized. With the Portuguese, as with Spain, "Christianization was a state enterprise.” In India and elsewhere, the Portu guese have shown great spi ritual enthusiasm coupled with the familiar theorieis of possession and exploitation. JANUARY 1963 11 Failing that, either the Dutch or the English would have conquered us, as indeed they did mount invasions against the Philippines, and we would have known a colon ization more punishing be cause it was built on the commerical rather than the religious ideal with all the “merciless exploitation and frank racialism” of their co lonial policy, yet more merci ful because it would have left us something of our his tory and our culture. Or per haps the power of Islam which was strongest in the 17th century would have en gulfed us, or perhaps the tribute which some of the is lands were paying China would have been enlarged into more definite subjec tion. We could have been another Korea under Japan which for many centuries be fore Pearl Harbor had defi nite political ambitions with regards to the Philippines, or another Indo-China under the French whose attitude of racial superiority and “utter distrust of democracy” cause the extreme nationalism of the Vietnam; Or perhaps the Germans? Or, who knows, we coud have known the relative independence of Siam? At any rate it is too late to speculate on whether we would have been spared the long paradoxical Spanish colonization with its strange combination of hideous cruel ty, humane and beneficent policies and incredible cor ruption and conservatism. It was too late that morning in March more than four cen turies ago when a small bearded Portuguese mariner stood on the deck of his wooden ship and glimpsed through the mist of the Pa cific the gray mountains of Samar.—The Saturday Mirror Magazine. The cruder minds are taken in by variety and exaggeration, the more educated by a sort of gentilty. — Goethe. 12 Panorama Instead of the refinements, socially we are inclined to favor the vulgar that is in western culture. This essay attempts to explain our cultural attitudes to ward the west. OUR CULTURAL AMBIVALENCE Vivencio Jose Our cultural relationship with the west has been culti vated and encouraged for centuries that nobody among us can legitimately claim ex emption from its impulses and influencesj While there are so many things desirable in western culture embodied in its demands for excellence and perfection, the unrelent ing search for knowledge, the adventurous spirit of specula tion and the utilisation of scientific formulations and others that strongly recom mended to us their cogent necessity for our time, never theless there are certain atti tudes with which we regard culture that have driven us to confront dilemmas we usually resolve against our favour. (£hese attitudes have widely contributed to the imbalance of our intellectual tradition and ultimately to the confu sion and alienation that are characteristics patent to our culture. A case in point is the atti tude wherin we take Spain and America as whole sym bols of western culture when in reality they are not. But of course, this has been pos sible because for a long time our contact has been restrict ed to these countries. This mistaken regard has contrib uted to our ignorance of the fact that culturally and intel lectually they are only parts of the vigorous continent of Europe where until recently the great issues and events of the world are decided first in the mind. It is in countries like Germany, England and France where an older and a stronger cultural tradition can be found which, taking its substance from the native soil imbibed the elements of JANUARY 1963 13 the classical age and became concretised for us in terms of their arts, philosophy, and science whose richness is for ever a challenge to human in quiry and experience. Cultural Ambivalence Hence, while there is gen erally a constriction of our cultural relationship mainly with the two countries men tioned above and therefore a misunderstanding of our par tial cultural parenthood there is also a miscalculation of its ultimate meaning. In spite of our proud declarations of po pularising education, the fin est and deepest thoughts* of the west have not been a gen erative and constructive force in our social thinking precise ly because education has lacked the quality to enrich and stimulate the apprecia tive and critical intelligence, nor has it fully approximated the challenge and the standa r d s which the highest achievements of the west has to offer to us. The publicised avowal we pay as" our allegi ance to western culture is therefore contradicted by the inept demonstration pf our appreciation. Thus, the recent reaction to ban a novel of great literary and cultural merit like D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover, for example, while at the same time our choice not to show any outward protest against the flood of imported comics and cheap detective novels, can be an indication of this ambivalence. Our ac claims are dictated by the taste of the controlled multi tude while our counsels are based on the easy reaches of intelligence that to continue the analogy, while socially we may yield to cultural out rages like the soap operas, the twist, and crude popular mu sic we will reveal at once our implied if not downright dis gust when the question turns on serious drama, ballet, or classical music which are in tegral components of western culture. In short, instead of the refinements, socially we are inclined to favour the vulgar that is in western cul ture to the extent that we de sist or default from thinking that this is not all of the west, and also to obscure the fact that the proper homage we can pay to its artists, thinkers and scientists is one of gentle and sceptical intellectual con14 Panorama limitation rather than by bias or ignorance which we use to justify our chosen intention. Western Heritage Attempts therefore to pro tect the public must always favour excellence for these can never corrupt us except as we regard them from a puerile point of view. Serious and sincere actions must be directed against the crude and the vulgar even how much they are found to be socially acceptable precisely because social corruption arises from these sources. We must also accept the fact that cultural excursions involve a risk in intelligence and orientation for the very notion of indi vidually in culture demands a particularl approach that is unique to any of its particu lar aspect to be explored. Hence, in one way culture demands nuances of human adaptations especially in in telligence to which its finest and higest refinements seek communion. The perennial challenge poised by intellig ence engaged in advancing and understanding culture would somewhat be a confir mation and at once a rejec tion too of the banality and stupidity of their age, and which is perhaps made near er and more relevant to us by the cogency which the re membrance of Socrates, Ein stein, Rizal, Darwin, Tagore, Shakespeare, and others will always arouse in us. While we may therefore de clare our western heritage, we must at the same moment af firm our rights to be mental ly challenged which is a pre condition concomitant to our acceptance of such a heritage. For in as much as we propose excellence for our considera tion, such a demand posits also the affirmation of free dom to pursue these excellen ces to wherever they will lead us as long as such an action is first confined to and con firmed by discussion and whose solutions are solved af ter the clash of reason and logic. Cultural Fringes Bur our reaction to such a proposal has not only been marked by indifference and abstention but also by out right denunciation because we have • feared for so long the serious actions of intellig ence. This ingenuity to re sist, together with time and the social process conspires JANUARY 1963 15 therefore in wording against our enlightenment that a condition is still being prod uced where a time-lag in our cultural reception hinders our minds in ^making a cor rect appraisal of the perspec tive of things. For one, our being at the receiving-end of the intellec tual movements in the west opens up to us only the cul tural fringes when the west is already at the cultural cen tre, This makes us fight now also for principles western peoples have already won a hundred years earlier that we miss in the process a sense of contemporaniety precisely be cause our intellectual com plexes are still checked by the impositions and demands of the undesirable survivals of the past. This makes also for our misplaced seriousness to consider according to a critic as epigrams what are already cliches abroad and novelties that which are already anti quated and outgrown by the west. Hence, we can take our being a semi-feudal society with indifference still in spite of the great progress in sci ence and economy in the west; we can regard and res pond to the evils of medieval ism with a kind of tolerance born not out of our liberal ism but by an over-optimistic and over-masochistic turn of mind that legalises for us the hopes that they can be work able still in our times; and ul timately to take secularism and science as suspicious en croachment on the body po litic; and the free and intel ligent spirit of man that re presents to us its expression in scholarly anguish as inspir ed by the devil and therefore fit for a ritual of exorcism and slaughter. Cultural Values This mental condition and inclination have so far prod uced among our intellectually sensitive sector a sense of con tradiction and escape because the west has been romanticis ed in our imagination. So that when we seek an affir mation of our desires we will at once propose an immedi ate exodus to the west which we consider as our cultural home. The opposition of our cultural values is such that we have taken what belongs to us either with selective con descension or disgust as to make us compare hastily, to our conscious disadvantage, 16 Panorama say, the slums of Manila with the affluent quarters of Lon don, our sari-sari stores* with the intellectual’s cafes and art galleries of Paris, and our nipa huts with the skycrapers of New York, completely forgetful of whatever our own could offer and empha tic in our assertions of con tempt for our worst aspects so that we can justify our re signation, and our neglect or our suppression of whatever are the worst qualities of these foreign cities mention ed. Hence, we tend also to forget that what we seek in these lands and what they stand for us in our imagina tion as a concatenation of po sitive achievements and pro gress have been made possible not because of escape and endless rantings but by hard unremitting work through long years of struggle, which when allowed to operate in our country may eventuate ultimately to the realisation here of what we desire in those cities. On the other hand, the reaches of our self-alienation can only be matched by the degree to which we have es tranged ourselves from the quest of eastern culture. For our colonial submission has resulted into a situation where we have not only been suddenly cut-off from our past and everything that it signifies but also has isolated us from our immediate neigh bours. We have been “tribalised” and “insularised” so tho roughly that even now a de claration of nationalism is re garded with suspicion and the effort to emerge from our iso lation in order to. widen our cultural relationship with/nir neighbours is stifled by insidi ous interests that on the one hand, our estrangement may indicate itself in the ability of some of our intellectuals to discuss intelligently all the phases of the European Com mon Market but showing ig norance and embarrassment when the question of the Asian Common Market (where we rightfully belong) becomes the subject of. in quiry; or on the other, this may show up in a mentality addicted to favouring the Monroe Doctrine while at the same time suspicious of those among us who advocate the Asia-for-the Asians policy. Eastern Culture This western constriction of our minds and grasps may January 1963 17 also reach the particular ab surdity to assess eastern cul ture as something quaint and inferior not only out of ig norance but also because of the extent to which we try ourselves to believe that, since the particular Chinese we meet in the street used to be a poorly dressed peddler with slit eyes and used a chopstick when he eats, and the Hindu as a lean businessman with a long beard and deep set eyes wearing a strange garment, and since both are coloured peoples, we conclude at once that their culture is necessa rily inferior to that of west ern man whom we socially deify. In other words, there is a tendency in us to reduce these things to personalities and prejudices as cultural indices and as long as we regard east ern man as a stranger to us, to hide th’e fact (as in truth our education hides it from us) that old China and old India as particular manifest ations of eastern culture pos sess a cultural tradition as ancient as any that can be found in the world and offer ing as varied excellences in arts and philosophy as any country in the west can offer; or to make secret the thing that, until the tenth centu ry, eastern culture and politi cal sway as shown by these two countries are superior to any which thie west can offer. In point of fact, as a historian reveals, not in one instance alone did the east ci vilise the west. But through the contingen cies of history, whatever the east inculcated in terms of its refinements to the west had been underestimated because of the latter’s subjugation of the former that was made pos sible by the birth of the im peratives of a new and a then vigorous economic order that sought its nourishment in the material wealth of the east so that it can survive and remain strong. Hence, the tales of the un couth and treacherous orient al and the myth of the white man’s burden later on plagu ing the accounts of western writers. It is therefore para doxical that while the west proposes to us the experience of its whole cultural universe from the vulgar to the refineed, it has portrayed to us in turn the worst qualities not only of ourselves but of other orientals as well, and our ha 18 Panorama bitat as a random country of base, helpless, and uncultur ed persons who must be “ci vilised” with each need for loot and the expansion of commerce up to a point where they are insisted upon to forget their ancient cultufe that they can be remolded into a colonial appendage wherein captivity is the rule. Intellectual Confusion Ultimately, these kinds of thinking that direct our minds to appreciate the un wanted elements of both east ern and western culture con fuse our intellectual and cul tural tradition for so long. However, it is being correct ed now by the hew driving force of nationalism whose creative spirit is sweeping the renascent areas of the world. Our ability to examine our relationship with both cul tures can be illuminated if we at once take ourselves, our needs, and our desires and whatever is worth preserving and developing in our cul ture as a starting point from where the other qualities spe cial to east and west must be related and referred. Any widespread and intensive cul tural movement that will draw us nearer to the realities and to ourselves must take these considerations seriously. For only then we can main tain for our examination an independent and balanced perspective that will insure a conscious act of will to affirm our bold allegiance to cul tural refinements and an equal rejection of those as pects that are anti-human and debasing. It is only this choice that will find for our cultural ambivalence its har monious resolution. A pleasure-loving character will have pleasure of some sort; but, if you give him the choice, he may prefer pleasures which do not degrade him to those which do. And this choice is offered to every man, who possesses in literary or artistic culture a neverfailing source of pleasure, which are neither withered by age, nor staled by custom, nor embittered in the recollection by the pangs of self-reproach. — Thomas Henry Huxley January 1963 19 - Never was the world so perilously close to war as it was in the last week of October, 1962 over Cuba. Here is the story as told by the London Observer’s diplomatic staff. THREE DAYS THAT SAVED THE WORLD An hour before President Kennedy was due to broad cast in Washington on a matter of. “urgent national importance,” Adlai Stevenson stepped into a high-speed lift to the thirty-eigth floor of the United Nations building in New York. He walked into the offices of the Acting Secretary-Gen eral, U Thant, and, choosing his words with his customary fastidiousness, told him that the Russians had missile bas es in Cuba and that the United States intended to call an emergency meeting of the Security Council. It was six o’clock on the evening of Monday, October 22—the beginning of a selfcontained week of nightmare that ended almost as abrupt ly as it began. The week is still full of mysteries and question marks and it has no precedents or parallels. But the events of the next few days illuminated, with a sud den glare, the terrifying rules and moves of the nuclear chess game. Crucial clash The full import of Steven son’s news did not at once strike U Thant. Stevenson did not tell him that the President was about to an nounce a blockade, and did not wait for any discussion. But U Thant knew that he must expect a direct RussianAmericana clash, that would be crucial for the U.N., and for him. Ever since he had been elected to office a year before, the U. N. Secretariat had watched U Thant with in creasing respect. He had tak en his predecessor, Dag Hammarskjold, as his model: even the offices kept their antiseptic Swedish air, 20 Panorama though one or two abstract works of art had been replac ed with Renoirs and a strange assortment of Mexican and African sculpture. U Thant lacked Hammarskjold’s intellectual power or political subtlety, but he had the same dedicated independ ence. When Stevenson left, U Thant called in his main con fidant on the Secretariat, the clever soft-voiced Indian, Chakravarthi Narasimhan, his right-hand man through out the week. Together they listened to Kennedy’s broad cast, and then U Thant with drew for his customary re flection—the last quiet eve ning he was to have. Crisis gathers Next day the crisis gather ed speed. From Washington, Kennedy completed his open ing moves: the U.S. fleet de ployed off Cuba, the Western allies expressed their support, Stevenson tabled a resolution in the Security Council, de manding immediate dismant ling and withdrawal from Cuba of all offensive wea pons, endorsed unanimously by the Organization of Amer ican States. But from Moscow the west ern ambassadors reported a strange calm. The Soviet Council of Ministers had met in the Kremlin to hear the Defense Minister, Marshal Malinovsky, report on mili tary preparations. At the Foreign Ministry a tall/ Stalintype skyscraper, Vassily Kuznetsov, the Deputy For eign Minister, had summon ed the newly appointed American Ambassador, Foy Kohler, a quiet, wrinkled man who was the chief America# expert on Berlin. Khrushchev himself was ostentatiously playing it cool: while in New York an ex tremely worried U Thant was considering ways of calling for a truce, Khrushchev in Moscow went to see “Boris Godunov” at the Bolshoi, chatted afterwards to Jerome Hines, the bass singer from California who had sting the part of Boris, and found time to receive William Knox, American president of West inghouse Electric. As for the Moscow public they had not even been told about the cause of the crisis. In Washington and Eu rope the atmosphere became steadily more strained as the JANUARY 1963 21 public waited for the clash between American warships and Russian arms ships heading for Cuba. The New York stock market fell by 11 points on Tuesday, four on Wednesday; the price of gold went up, and shops in Los Angeles reported a heavy de mand for tin foods. Phone at side Everyone was watching the President. To his friends he seemed controlled and- reasonably relaxed. But throughout the week he was never more than a few steps away from a telephone. Ever since the danger of sudden nuclear attack, the telephone had become the most crucial part of the equipment: when ever he moved, the switch board moved with him, and even at the airport a wheeled trolley carried a telephone at his side. The "situation room,” just inside the west wing of the basement of the White House, was manned 24 hours a day by the President’s aides, including McGeorge Bundy and his deputy, Carl Kaysen. Equally important was the telephone between Washing ton and General Norstad, the cool and sophisticated commander of Nato. After Kennedy’s speech, he ordered American forces in Europe to a state of "awareness” — the first of three pre-arranged stages of preparation' for trouble in Europe which he had introduced about 18 months before. As the tension increased, Norstad came under heavy pressure from Washington to move to a further stage of preparedness — involving the issue of ammunition (includ ing nuclear warheads) and the dispersal of nuclear bombers. It is now known that he resisted this pressure, arguing that it would be wrong, as long as the crisis was confined to the Carib bean, to take what might ap pear to the Russians as pro vocative measures in Europe. The neutralists As the world prepared re luctantly to face war, all sides looked hopefully towards the U.N. But, from U Thant’s vantage point, the outlook was increasingly grim. On the Wednesday morning the leader of the Cypriot dele gation, Zenon Kossides, to 22 Panorama gether with six ether neu tralist leaders, called on U Thant to plead for him io intervene. U Thant consulted closely with Omar Loutfi, his com fortable-looking Egyptian un der-secretary, and then pre pared a careful message to Khrushchev and Kennedy, bravely objecting to the “ex traordinary” nature of the blockade and calling for a fortnight’s truce|—a demand that went further than the neutralists’ own suggestions. The message was delivered that evening to the Security Council; some delegates be lieved that U Thant was threatening to resign (echo ing Hammarskjold at Suez) if the Americans used force. By the end of the day there was some relaxation: Wash ington had reported that some Russians ships had al tered course, and Khrushchev had mentioned casually to William Knox in Moscow that he was still thinking of coming to America. On Wednesday afternoon U Thant himself ordered that the annual U.N. concert, giv en by the Leningrad Orches tra, should proceed as usual. Then, on Wednesday night, the spotlight tempora rily turned on a remote old man in Wales — Bertrand Russell, who was sitting in his bedroom slippers in his rented villa, Plas Penryhn, with his dog Peanut. Five cables Russell’s activities provided a curious entracte to the world crisis — as if a drama tic critic had strayed on to the stage by accident. Ever since he had listened to Ken nedy’s midnight broadcast, Russell had been in a state of unusual agitation. That night he sent off five cables — which were phoned through via Manchester — to Kennedy, Khrushchev, Mac millan, Gaitskell and U Thant, in that order. Copies of the cables were read to British newspapers, which ig nored them. For the next two days Rus sell tried to mobilize media tors, including Schweitzer in Africa, Pablo Casals, in Puerto Rico, and Cyrus Eat on, Khrushchev’s eccentric millionaire friend, in Am erica; he also proposed sum moning an -emergency meet ing of the Pugwash scientists. JANUARY 1963 23 He appealed to the British Press “to allow the people to know of the grave danger facing mankind,” and pre pared an angry leaflet headed You Are To Die, which was printed at its own expense by the Cuban Embassy in Lon don. Frosty answer The Press took no notice at all until at 7:30 on Wed nesday night the Tass Agen cy in Moscow suddenly put over the tape a long, concil iatory reply from Khrush chev. Abruptly the boycott of Plas Penryhn was transform ed into a siege. The tele phone was blocked with calls from all over the world, ask ing for Russell’s original Khrushchev’s letter (which he had not then seen — the actual letter still hasn’t ar rived), Next morning there were 36 journalists at the house. Russell found himself, for the moment, in the midst of the triangle of Washing ton, Moscow and the U.N. The only leader who did not in the end reply person ally to Russell’s cables was Macmillan, who sent a frosty answer through his secretary, Phillip de Zulueta, saying “Your views have been not ed.” On Thursday, at the U.N. after Khrushchev’s letter to Russell, the atmosphere was still strained, but more hope ful. Kennedy replied fo U Thant, saying that Stevenson would enter preliminary talks as U Thant had asked, and Moscow reported that Khrushchev, too, had agreed to talks. Stevenson and Zorin exchanged allegations, but some contact had at least been achieved. The next day Khrushchev told U Thant that he had ordered Russian ships to stay out of the interception area. Kennedy said that every thing possible would be done to avoid confronting Russian ships outside that area. The dreaded clash at sea had been averted/ and the first part of the crisis was over — with the U.N. as the undisputed peacemaker. Force hint But a second and more serious crisis was only just be ginning— the three days in whicn the world could have 24 Panorama been lost, but was saved. For although Khrushchev had indirectly given Kennedy a mild public answer, he had not committed himself to re moving the missile bases from Cuba. On the contrary, Am erican air surveys showed the Russians were working fever ishly to complete them. The removal of these bases was Kennedy’s declared aim, by negotiation if possible, but if not, Washington in creasingly hinted then by force. The blockade might stop more missiles coming in, but it could not stop the Rus sians from finishing the bases already started. The speed with which this second crisis developed was dictated by the speed of the continued Russian buildup. Washing ton thought that Khrushchev might simply be playing for time, hoping the crisis would gradually peter out, leaving Russian rockets still in Cuba. Mr. Kennedy had warned in his broadcasts that if the offensive preparations in Cu ba continued, "further action would be justified." Now, inspired leaks to the Wash ington Press corps ominous ly began to speak of possible American bombing attacks on the missile bases. If this was part of the war of nerves, the Russians had already shown — more gent ly — they could play the same game. In Moscow on Thursday, Marshal Malinov sky made the closing speech at an army conference on ideological questions. Soviet forces, he declared, were in a high state of readiness. A shortened version of the speech was published in the Army’s paper. About 15 youths demonstrated outside the American Ambassador’s residence, a handsome domed building in a square near the Embassy. They were chased away by militiamen. With the new crisis in mind * U Thant had sent, pressed by the neutrals, an other message to the two leaders urging restraint. But he was a little reluctant to push himself forward. Sir Patrick Dean, the chief British delegate, commented sympathetically: "If U Thant is always the ham in the sandwich, he’s bound to be eaten in the end.” U Thant was also in touch on Thurs day with Betrand Russell, who had three letters from JANUARY 1963 25 the Acting Secretary-General during the week. ‘End. this madness* At 2:30 a.m. on Friday, Russell had a reply to his sharp cable to Kennedy which had wound up "End this madness." It had been lost for three days at the White House among 53,000 other telegrams. Kennedy, more politely told Russell: "I think your attention might now be directed to the burg lars rather than those who have caught the burglars.” That night Russell, helped by his secretary Ralp Schoenman, sent more cables to Kennedy, Castro and Khrush chev. At Portmadoc tele phone exchange the night operator said: ‘Don’t you ever get any sleep, you two?” But the role of the sleep less philosopher was over. Even the' public mediation of the U.N. was taking se cond place to secret diploma cy and this was increasingly direct between Washington and Moscow. At the U.N. the American delegation, sensing hostility, quietly dropped its initial plan — io provoke a Soviet veto at the Security Council and then carry the American resolution immediately be fore the General Assembly. Instead it accepted a U.A.R.-Ghana proposal to suspend the Security Council discuss ions until U Thant had had a chance of trying to arrange a compromise. Secret messages On Friday morning Adlai Stevenson went to Washing ton for instructions on the minimum terms the Ameri cans should demand. That afternoon, he, Zorin and the Cuban Garcia were all re ceived by U Thant on the thirty-eighth floor. They were ushered into different waiting rooms to avoid meet ing. Stevenson left the build ing saying “That is a good time for quiet diplomacy.” Then, expecting a tough round of negotiations, the American delegation was as tounded to be called up by Washington at 11:30 on Fri day night — after dawn in Moscow — and told that Ken nedy had just received a secret message from Khrush chev going far beyond the compromise that U Thant had been trying to. negotiate. This was the third of four 26 panorama secret messages that are known to have passed be tween Kennedy and Khrush chev during the crisis. There are believed to have been others, but no one outside the White House and the Kremlin knows for sure. There is no direct tele phone line from the White House to the Kremlin. (Though during the past year the Swedes had suggest ed installing such a tele phone link as one way of preventing war by accident.) But this time Kennedy and Khrushchev corresponded se cretly with each other through their embassies. As soon as he came into office, Kennedy had made a point of establishing as close a contact with Khrushchev as possible through the Am erican ambassador in Mos cow. Until recently it was the veteran Russian-speaking Llewellyn Thompson, who had just been replaced by Foy Kohler. Thompson could see Khrushchev at al most any time and, back in Washington, was one of the President’s most trusted ad visers on how to deal with Russia. The text of Khrushchev's message to the President on Friday night is still secret. It is said not to have been published by the Americans because of its violent and vituperative language. But, behind this smokesr-een, Khrushchev made the key move of the week. According to Kennedy’s reply to the message, the Soviet leader ad mitted in it for the first time the presence of bases in Cuba, reassured the Ameri cans they were in Soviet not Cuban hands, and agreed to take them out in return for no more than the assurance that the Americans would not invade Cuba. New twist It was clear later that this was the turning-point of the crisis. But at the time the outside world, ignorant of the message, could see only a rapid slide towards war. Evidently Khrushchev had at last been convinced that if he did not withdraw his mis siles the Americans might reaHy attack them. That Friday evening as his vital message was on its way to Washington, Mr. and Mrs. Khrushchev attended a con January 1963 27 cert given by a Cuban orches tra in the Tchaikovsky Hall. In Washingtonn that night it must have looked as though the game was won. But on Saturday morning more dis turbing news began to come from Moscow. A large or ganised demonstration took place outside the American Embassy and Moscow Radio announced that it would be broadcasting an important statement. Most Muscovites expected a call-up of the re serves. Instead it was an of fer to America to swap the Soviet bases in Cuba for the American missile bases in Turkey, which was received in Washington with bewild erment and alarm. It coin cided with news that Rus sians round the Cuban mis sile sites were firing at Am erican reconnaissance planes and had shot one down. Had Khrushchev suddenly changed his mind? Or had he lost control in the Kremlin and been forced to take a tougher line? Whose finger was now on the trigger on the other side? A mystery Paradoxically one of the most frightening thoughts of a frightening week was that Khrushchev might no longer be there. But as one Am erican diplomat said: "We must remember our aim is to dismantle the bases — not to dismantle Khrushchev.” Just why Khrushchev back tracked on Saturday is still a mystery. In his reference to a Cuba-Turkey deal, the So viet Premier mentioned Wal ter Lippmann. The wizened elder statesman of the Am erican Press, in his column the previous Tuesday, had first made the heretical sug gestion of a Cuba-Turkey ex change — to the fury of the State Department, who thought the Russians would interpret it as official kite flying. But there were signs that a deal over Turkey had been considered in Washington as one possible bargain in later negotiations with Russia. The Turks themselves object ed to the Americans taking their missiles away. The brink On Saturday evening, Pres ident Kennedy replied to both Khrushchev messages. He rejected a deal over Tur key. He was ready, he said, 28 Panorama to talk about disarmament generally, provided the Rus sian missiles in Cuba were "rendered inoperable.” But he offered Khrusshchev an other way out. He gave him the promise the Soviet Pre mier had asked for in his secret Friday message — that America would not attack Cuba if the Soviet missiles were withwdrawn. American officials at the U.N. spread the word that unless an agreement were reached with in the next few hours the U.S. would take direct mili tary action to wipe out the bases. This was the brink. For no one knew what Khrush chev would reply. For the next fifteen hours the ten sion reached its peak. And nerves on both sides were stretched even tighter when, on the Sunday morning, an American U2, straying off course above Siberia, was sighted by the Russians. While the world waited anxiously for Khrushchev, the man who seemed least worried of all was President de Gaulle. He was far more concerned about his referen dum. On Saturday afternoon he went down to his country house at Colombey-les-deuxEglises and did not come back to Paris until Tuesday. In London on Saturday night, it was realised that the situation was heading for dis aster. Macmillan had seen Khrushchev’s u n published letter to.Kennedy of the< day before and believed that the risk of war was greater than at any time in the crisis. Late on Saturday, he sum moned Butler, Thorneycroft and Home, who were joined by Heath when he got back from Brussels. They discussed t he situation and the Prime Minister spoke to Kennedy on the telephone The ministers met again at 9:30 on Sunday morning, when there was still no sign of a statement from Khrush chev. With the help of his col leagues, Macmillan drafted a letter to Khrbshchev, which was finished by 11:15. By noon it had been typed, cod ed and transmitted to Sir Frank Roberts in Moscow. Sense of relief But the letter was not needed. By 2:15 the tele printers at Admiralty House, and everywhere else, tapped January 1963 29 out the next of Khrushchev’s message agreeing to the Pres ident’s terms. At the U N. on Monday morning there was a sense of immense, overwhelming re lief. Ambassador Zorin gave a lunch for members of the Security Council. Stevenson arrived in good humour, and, as a joke, pulled out a newspaper cutting about the Ghanaians asking for wea pons to repel elephants. "I expect they were Am erican elephants,” said Zorin. “No,” said Stevenson, “the elephants wore red.” — A LEARNED IGNORAMUS The specialist “ knows” very well his own, tiny corner of the universe; he is radically ignorant of all the rest. Here we have a precise example of this strange new man ... a human product unparalleled in history. For, previously, men could be divided simply into the learned and the ignorant, those more or less the one, and those more or less the other. But your specialist cannot be brought in under either of these two categories. He is not learned, for he is formally ignorant of all that does not enter into his specialty; but neither is he ignorant, because he is a “scientist,” and “knows” very well his own tiny portion of the universe. We shall have to say that he is a learned ignoramus, which is a very serious matter, as it im plies that he is a person who is ignorant, not in the fashion of the ignorant man, but with all the petu lance of one who is learned in his own special line. — Jose Ortega y Gasset. 30 Panorama A World War II Anecdote Arun. 1’aXu ANOTHER Japanese education officials in Manila were fond of giv ing the so-called objective type ot examinations. But they often found, much to their chagrin, that their propaganda line did not work as well as they thought even with the school child ren. On June 7, 1943, a set of 18 questinos in “current events’’ was given in an exammination for Grade Six classes in the public schools. The questions were so phras ed as to leave the pupils no choice, and they knew the cliches, but 11-year-old Rosita Verzosa had a pattern all her own. Asked to answer Yes or No, Rosita dashed off the test in no time by simply writing Yes after each odd number and No after each even num ber, and adding, perhaps for effect, definitely after each Yes and No. Here were the questions and Rosita’s answers: 1. Do you want Italy to lose? Yes, definitely, 2. Do you like the Japan ese to win the war? No, definitely. 3. Do you want China and England to win? Yes, definitely, 4. Did America start the war? No, definitely. 5. Are the Americans gent ler in minds than the Japanese? Yes, definitely, 6. Do you feel happier now than before? No, definitely. 7. Are the people poorer now than before? Yes, definitely, 8. Are the Japanese friend ly with children? No, definitely. 9. Is handshaking politer than bowing? Yes, definitely, 10. Are you glad Laurel was shot? No, definitely. JANUARY 1963 31 11. Are the Americans bet ter than the Japan ese? Yes, definitely, 12. Did the Japanese not come to give us inde pendence? No, definitely. 13. Do you want America to win? Yes, definitely, 14. Do you enjoy Nippongo? No, definitely. 15. Do you want the Am ericans to come back? Yes, ‘cause I like comics! 16. Are you anxious to learn Nippongo so you do not have to use English? No, ‘cause I already know English. 17. Who is stronger, Am erica or Japan? Who else? 18. Are you happy when you hear the airplanes every morning? No, they make me wake up so early. What else do you want to know? - H. J. A. THE ANGER IN PAN'S HEART Earth wages war against her children, and under he softest touch hides treacherous claws. The cool waters invite us in to drown; the domestic hearth burns up in the hour of sleep, and makes an end of all. Everything is good or bad, helpful or deadly, not in itself, but by its circumstances. . . . And when the universal music has led lovers into the paths of dalliance, confident of Nature’s sympathy, suddenly the air shifts into a minor, and death makes a clutch from his ambuscade below the bed of marriage. For death given in a kiss; the dearest kindnesses are fatal; and into this life, where one thing preys upon another, the child too often makes its entrance from the mother’s corpse. — Robert Louis Stevenson. 32 Panorama Flag saluting has a place in our national life and it is only fitting that we pay tribute to what we ourselves have built. z FLAG SALUTE AND PATRIOTISM Once in a while one reads heartening stories about some bureacrat eschewing official and generally petty trappings in order to do “justice” and in the process, uncover a gem — sparkling and revealing in its wisdom. So it was with a fiscal who dropped deport ation charges against five members of a religious sect who had allegedly ordered their congregation not to sa lute the Filipino flag. Ex plaining the dismissal of the case, the fiscal said: “For all the practical value of the flag salute law, it does not neces sarily follow that those citi zens who refuse to salute the flag for being contrary to their religious precepts are less patriotic law abiding than those who do.” The statement will surely set no precedent though it may receive the acclaim of many. To be sure, Philip pine law on the matter is clear enough. The Supreme Court, in a couple of prosaic decisions, has held that refus al to salute the flag for the reason only that one’s reli gious beliefs forbid it is not a valid enough motive. While unhesitating in its affirm ation of religious freedom, the court saw fit to draw a d i s t inction (conveniently clear-cut because artificial and generally arbitrary) bet ween belief and advocacy. The court also declared that saluting the flag does not constitute a form of worship and, therefore, can not be taken as violative of a per son’s religious creed. The official stand of the state to the contrary notwith standing, the statement of the fiscal — additionally reveal* ing in that it stands out of the well-known drabness of legalese — should provide food for thought for those who would insist that all there is to patriotism, nation alism, and what-not are flag January 1963 raising rites, passports and traffic signs in the national language, and what have you. The petition of the fiscal to have the deportation charges dropped is, of course, based on more solid grounds — in the language of the law, meaning that the arguments and reasons are “expressly or impliedly provided for by law” and not ephemeral and opinionated such as the state ment quoted here. Thus, the fiscal said no penalty is im posed on whoever refuses blarantly to salute the flag. But lifting the petition from its legal context and viewing it against the broader background of a people’s mentality and attitude, one realizes that, after all, it is what the fiscal said about there being no causal con nection between saluting and patriotism which really mat ters. Certainly, even those who insist that symbols and rites have their function in building a national sentiment will not be foolhardy enough to maintain that these are all that are necessary in cultivat ing that love for one’s coun try. But when these people pre occupy. themselves with no thing else but ritualistic act ivities such as flag ceremonies and fail to provide a more substantial basis for loving one’s country, one comes to believe that perhaps one rea son for this country’s back wardness are people like these who think as they do. There is indeed little physical and mental effort required to pause and assume a respect ful attitude while the Filipi no flag is being raised up its gleaming pole. But more de dication and deeper affection for all that the flag is sup posed to symbolize is necessa ry to wrench this country out of its rut and send it along the path to progress. When we, as a people unit ed by common aspirations and problems, finally realize that flag saluting has its pro per place in our daily exist ence and that only hard, sa crificing work is the answer to the varied ills obstructing national progress, then we may sincerely stand and face the national emblem as it is slowly unfurled, comfortable in the thought that we are simply paying tribute to what we ourselves have built. 34 Panorama In the fight for civil liberties, no single group has perhaps accomplished more in this country than the Civil Liberties Union. The following is a brief history of its first 25 years. / THE CONTINUING'FIGHT FOR OUR CIVIL LIBERTIES r About 20 young profession als met 25 years ago to or ganize. The first meeting was one of simple comrade ship, with no decision being made as to the shape and nature of the proposed or ganization. In the next two meetings, the organizers appeared visi bly affected by the war clouds in the horizon. Japan had just begun a war with China. A fascist revolt was gaining the upper hand in Spain. German and Italian fascism were hurling a challenge to the rest of the world. Philippine government was showing signs that it was ready to take lessons from foreign fascists on peace, or der and discipline under a regime based on “G o d, Country, and Family.” An organization to defend civil liberties was in order. The A committee of three was formed to draft the objectives of the organization: Antonio Bautista (deceased), Jose B. L. Reyes and Paulino J. Gar cia. Another committee of one (Deogracias J. Puyat, deceased) was appointed to to recommend the name for the orgainization. The name — Civil Liberties Union of Philippines, and the object- O ives, approved by the organ- V. izers, showed that while the broad aim was to fight for nationalism, democracy and social justice in- the Philip pines, the focal point of the activities would be the de fense of civil liberties and the Constitution. From the moment it was organized until the Japanese action brought the Philip pines into the World War, the Civil Liberties Union was busy in the struggle for JANUARY 1963 35 the attainment of its object ives. The major struggles of the CLU may well be record ed. The most memorable was the fight for freedom of speech in the advocacy of boycott of Japanese goods. In a Congress for Democracy sponsored by nationalistic elements, Dr. Antonio Bau tista, then chairman of the Executive Commission of the CLU, advocated the boycott of Japanese goods as a means of weakening the war poten tial of a sure future enemy. Upon protest of the Japanese consul who claimed that such things could not be per mitted to happen in his country, our government saw fit to order the arrest of Dr. Bautista upon a charge un der *he Revised Penal Code (Art. 118) for inciting to war, and giving motives for repri sals. The CLU secretary im mediately filed bail for the chairman. When the secret ary brought the matter of bail for approval by the bodv. some members ques tioned the propriety and wis dom of bailing by the CLU. They were not in favor of Japanese boycott, and would have nothing to do with any thing that would incur the animosity of Japan. This was the first really serious rift within the CLU. Several members resigned. The CLU, however, continued its activities. The case was finally settled when Presid ent Quezon ordered the case to be dismissed. The CLU had a clash with President Quezon on the par ty-less system. He advocated a one-party system. When the CLU and other organ izations and elements called his ambition dictatorial, Que zon backed down, saying that what he meant was not oneparty but a party-less system, a system which was and is supposed to be in vogue in Portugal. Fortunately, how ever, Quezon soon forgot his one-party or party-less system. The Hartendorp case was another test which the CLU met with dignity. A certain sector was daily using the radio to discredit the public school system in America which it termed as godless and materialistic. Mr. A. V. H. Hartendorp took- up the is sue and wrote his replies in a magazine which was approv ed by the Department of Public Instruction for read 36 Panorama ing by teachers. Upon com plaint of his opponents in the debate, the magazine was or dered excluded from the schools. The CLU took up the matter in defense of civil liberties. Diplomatic action by the department prevent ed the issue from becoming more acute. The Jai Alai case was fun damentally a challenge to the nationalism objective of the CLU. The Agricultural and Industrial Bank (predeces sor of the Reconstruction Finance Corporation and Development Bank of the Philippines) was giving too many big loans to foreign, specially Spanish, interests, to the prejudice of Filipino business interests. Jai Alai was one of those to which such a loan was granted. The CLU opposed the loan, and tried, through legal process, without success, to examine the books of the Jai Alai. The notoriety of the case caused the company to repay the loan before the war broke out. In the firm belief that the Constitution should not be treated lightly by any one, the CLU registered a vigor ous opposition to the amend ment of the Constitution approved by the legislature for submission to a national ple biscite. The CLU was not against amending the Cons titution. But it stood against what it considered to be has ty amendnemts which were obviously motivated primari ly by a desire to permit the re-election of the President. Just before the war broke out, the CLU got involved in the Soriano case. A citi zen of Spain, but residing in the Philippines practically all his life, Mr. Andres So riano filed an application to become a Filipino citizen in 1941 in the court of first in stance of Rizal. The CLU filed its appearance and in the November 1941 hearing of the case, contested the ap plication on the ground that legal requirements had not been set. The CLU’s oppo sition, however, was virtual ly quashed and Mr. Soriano was permitted to take his oath as a citizen before the completion of the regulatory period. A day or two before the Japanese entry into Ma nila, he was commissioned captain in the Philippine Army. After liberation, upon the sponsorship of Gen. JANUARY 1963 37 Douglas McArthur, he be came a citizen of the United States. The last pre-war battle of the CLU was with President Quezon. It started when the President, after the fall of France to the Nazis, and ex plaining the fall, castigated the “so-called freedom lov ing”. elements in the Philip pines and suggested that these elements were responible for the decay of nations and their defeat by aggressors. The matter came to a head when, in a speech before the faculty and student body of the University of the Philip pines a week before Pearl Harbor, he declared that the Philippines was not ready for war; he lambasted the CLU, and promised to hang every member from a lamp post. The CLU took concern, and in a body, drafted an answer which the leading Manila newspapers, for reasons they did not divulge, refused to publish whether as news or as paid advertisement. The war automatically closed the issue. The war did not end the activties of the CLU. It merely changed the nature of the struggle. Defense of civil liberties or of democracy and social justice became unne cessary and impossible. The emphasis changed to nation alism, the defense of country against the invader. A cor responding change in the methods of struggle necessa rily had to be made. Several members began conversations on guerrilla warfare a few days after Pearl Harbor. A meeting was call ed wherein the CLU was de clared “dissolved.” Within three weeks after the Japan ese entry into Manila, ten CLU members organized the Free Philippines as a resis tance group. Four CLU members paid the supreme sacrifice for nationalism: Ra mon de Santos, Rafael R. Roces, ‘ Jr., Jose Apacible, and Antonio M. Bautista. The survivors in the group sought no recognition or re ward. Immediately upon libera tion, the CLU reorganized, and resumed its activities. The emphasis had somewhat changed from that of the pre war days. While the ques tions of civil liberties, demo cracy and social justice al ways concern the CLU, the defense of nationalism, i.e., of 38 Panorama the national interests of Fili pinos, had become the main problem. In early 1945, just after the end of the Japanese occupation, the CLU became aware of a move to wean the Filipino people from their cherished aspiration for nat ional freedom, and imme diately opposed attempts for a re-examination of Philip pine independence, of which the then High Commissioner Paul V. McNutt was obvious ly the spokesman, as revealed in a statement from Tokyo, that “the majority of the Fil ipinos are not necessarily in terested in independence.” When the Bell Trade Act, which provided for, in the words of President Osmena, an “unjust? trade agreement and also for parity rights for American citizens and corp orations was passed by the 79th Congress of the United States, the CLU tried to mobi lize public opinion for the re jection of the trade agreement and parity by the Philippine legislature and later by the people. Approval of the pa rity amendment was railroad ed, through the “ouster” of several senators and congress men known to be opposed to such measures. Forthwith, the Military Bases Agreement was signed under which the Philippines leased many bases for 99 years, and granted the right of extraterritoriality to the U. S. The CLU tried to dissent but its voice was drowned in the general re joicing over liberation by the Americans. The CLU later opposed the Quirino-Foster Agreement under which prac tically all offices of the exe cutive department were staff ed with American advisers selected b y Washington. Then the CLU agitated for an all-out revision of the trade agreement, first during the administration of Pres ident Quirind and again that of President Magsaysay. A committee,, headed by mem ber Claro M. Recto (now de ceased) submitted a confi dential memorandum to Sen ator Jose P. Laurel, head of the Philippine negotiating panel, in which the CLU urg ed the elimination of all pro visions in the trade agree ment which negated our po litical independence with res pect to several economic mat ters. In the home front, the CLU was the first non-parti san group to recognize the January 1963 39 basic character of the politic al dissidence in Luzon. It urged the government to con sider the politico-socio-econo mic origins and motivations of the dissident movement, and to realize that military and police measures were not the proper solution. The correctness of the CLU pos ition was recognized by the Mag saysay administration, which initiated some reme dies. In the meantime, the on slaught on our independence and nationalism brought about, as expected, other pro blems. For one thing, there were the moves to curtail ci vil liberties in order to deny them to those opposing the objectives of those in power. The CLU busied itself in de fense of the Constitutional separation of powers especial ly with respect to the so-call ed emergency powers of the President, and in seeking the early restoration of the sus pended privilege under Pres ident Quirino of the writ of habeas corpus, which is the first and last guarantee of all the other civil liberties. During these controversies, the position of the CLU was necessarily a delicate one, rendered even more delicate by the realities of the cold war. The CLU was subject ed to pressures and even pro vocations not only by some of the national leaders but also by some foreign organ izations. The pressures and provocations were treated with silence and patience. Then in 1954, under a some what new different atmos phere, the CLU welcomed an investigation by the CAFA. The CLU came in force for the hearing, with a defense panel headed by Members Recto, Tanada, Teehankee, Fernando, Crudo, David and Abola. The result was the exoneration of the CLU. In the meantime, the dan gers inherent in the recogni tion of the extraterritorial rights were becoming more and more visible. The CLU called for a re-examination of the ^Military Bases Agree ment. In the original or pre liminary Philippine panel, which actually negotiated with American counterpart in 1956, at least one CLU member was retained. The Philippine panel stood its ground firmly. The CLU urged in a memorandum to 40 Panorama the panel that the 99 year lease, which it considered to be tantamount to perpetuity, be substantially reduced to 25 years. Under the then pre vailing realities of world po litics, our position appeared to be very reasonable. It was conceded in principle by the American panel. But the other demands for the elimi nation of provisions curtail ing Philippine sovereignty, such as extraterritoriality, were adamantly opposed by the American panel, and the negotiations ended in a dead lock. Today, the fight has shift ed back to the politico-eco nomic field. American big business interests, through their government, had de manded more and more con cessions for their foreign di rect investments in the Phil ippines. Both the CLU, and members Recto and Tanada, as senators, assailed every at tempt to increase alien eco nomic domination in the Philippines; and the various foreign investments measures, supported by foreign inte rests, were the natural targets of these attacks. The CLU is resolved to re main a staunch proponent of every move aimed at remov ing every obstacle to the pre servation of the national in dependence, and the national security, the essence of which, as Member Recto had always taught, is the freedom from foreign dictation. If what we call happiness consists in harmony, clarity, unity with oneself, in the consciousness of a positive, confident, decisive turn of mind, if, in short, it is peace resident in the soul, then obviously happiness is a state far easier for the sons of spirit to arrive at than for the children of nature. — Thomas Mann. JANUARY 1963 41 On November 30, 1962, the Civil Liberties Union of the Philippines observed .the 25th anniversary of its unflagging fight for civil liberties. This is a tribute from the Philip pine press. . / : MESSIAH NISM AND LIBERTY Macario ' The Silver Jubilee of the Civil Liberties Union coin cides with a patriotic occa sion, which is the anniversary of Bonifacio’s birth. This is' / ipost fitting and proper, for the foremost heroes of the Filipino race — Rizal, del Pi? lar, Bonifacio and Mabini — would easily grace the roster of the Civil Liberties Union, as Once they did the roster of the Liga Filipina. This is a tribute not so much to the CLU as to the nation which has chosen, for its heroes and models, men whose lives were | * devoted to the cause of hu man liberty. But this is not all. On this occasion the Civil Liberties | Union rightly accords its Sil ver Jubilee tribute to that most distinguished body, the Supreme Court of the Philippines, of which it can be VlCENCIO said that never have so few done so much for the cause of liberty. How often have the gathering clouds of sus picion, mistrust and despon dence over freedom imme diately dissipated at a stroke of the pen of the Supreme Court! When we are grip ped by fear and alarm, when we sense democracy itself trembling in the balance and the rule of the law dangling at the precipice, the thought that yonder lies the rock of justice, which no tyrant can move, — the rock of justice that is the Supreme Court, helps us collect our bearings and reassures us about the future. The Press, exposed as it is from day to day to the threat of arbitrary power — to, the infringement of its freedom — has a special reason to be 42 Panorama grateful to the Supreme Court. And the Press can on ly cheer this little band of crusaders for liberty, the Ne mesis of every tyrant and of the new Torquemadas, this redoubtable band, the Civil Liberties Union of the Phil ippines. We teach our youth that freedom is indivisible. This phrase is not only pleasant to near; it is true, more true than people imagine. One may almost say, the extent to which this . is understood — genuinely understood — can be a gauge of one’s political or intellectual sophistication. It takes -some sophCftifuion to understand that the 0se of armed force to break 4 work ers’ picket line and the gag ging of a newspaper amount to the same thing, an in fraction of liberty, a blow against the Constitution and the rule of law. One indeed has to be cap able of a very broad view on human affairs to grasp the character of freedom as an ex tensive unity, almost an or ganic whole. When arbitrary power is used to attack our personal enemies, or perhaps business rivals, we tend to relish the spectacle, not know ing that the very weapon useed against them can someday be turned against us. We see no cause for alarm when a crusading government applies legal short-cuts at the ex pense of due process to go after men we consider unde sirable. But the same arbit rary methods can be used against good men, whom those in power happen to hate or dislike. The objection to despo tism lies in the character of despotism itself, not in its uses. To hold the contrary is to hold that a benevolent despotism is the ideal form of government, which is a con tradiction in terms, for power not only corrupts and debases but also intoxicates. The world has now been told of what could happen when ab solute power brings about intoxication — the paranoia of Stalin, who caused the but chery of an estimated eight million Russians. I chose the example of Sta lin. although I could have mentioned the massacres at Buchenwald and Dachau of Hitler’s Germany, for a good reason: Communism pro fesses to work for the libe ration of mankind from every JANUARY 1963 43 form of exploitaion and op* {Session, whereas Nazism had ess scruples about ideals and principles. Never before has an ideal been so grossly per verted, as in Stalin's Russia, unless we set beside it the massacre of Christians in their religious wars and the burning of heretics by the In quisition. History shows that the cause of liberty becomes most insecure and precarious un der self-righteoous and cru sading regimes. The messiah of politics is first of all the victim of a one-track mind, which, once he is in opwer, he seeks to impose upon all. To object is to run the risk of being branded a heretic and penalized for opposition, which now becomes disobe dience. And in time, the messiah’s notion of right and wrong passes over into the notion that whoever is not with him is against him. Political messiahnism is, moreover, inherently impa tient: the messiah looks upon the laws as so many pieces of a Gordian knot, a puzzle and a harassment and he is tempt ed, like Alexander, to hack it all away with a stroke of his sword. The messiah looks upon freedom as one for himself and his friends alone. Psy chologically and intellectual ly, he is incapable of grasping what Justice Holmes has very aptly said, that freedom, to be meaningful, must mean freedom not only for the thought that we have but "freedom for the thought that we hate.” Messiahnism was a reli gious phenomenon. In histo ry, the Inquisition is its des picable symbol. But religious messiahnism has tended to wane with the increasing se cularization of the world. Inevitably it has acquired a political face. Stalin was a messiah in this sense; and so was Hitler. In its religious form, mes siahnism upheld the right to flog the heretic for the good of his soul. In its political form, messiahnism lashes out at every one who fails to con form as either a crook or a subversive, all this in the name of good government or the national security. When m e s s i a.h n i s m is abroad, we have good cause to fear for our freedom. It warms the hearts of those who love liberty, therefore, to Panorama find the Civil Liberties Union not only reactivated but revitalized, and rich as ever in courage and ideals. We of the press, who share with you the same zealous concern for the freedom of all, will stand beside you and lend you support in the pur suit of your noble cause, which is the cause of all free men. We have stood together in the past against the invasion of the Bill of Rights and the usurpations of foreign and homegrown tyrants. No less than the Supreme Court, no less than the Civil Liberties Union, the Philippine press shall rise, as in the past, to every challenge to freedom. Freedom is so elusive it has to be conquered anew with every passing day, said Goethe. This remark of Goe the defines the terms of our struggle for liberty. The first is that the struggle has\to be an unceasing one; the second is that we shall refuse to be cowed by any threats or ca lumnies, and that as the knights of old, we shall prefer death to dishonor of default ing in the fight. THE ARTISTIC LIFE It is actually only with the most genuine despair that I take up my art again. If this must happen, I must once more resign reality and plunge into that sea of fantasy, then at least my imagination must get help and support from somewhere. I cannot live like a dog, I cannot sleep on straw and drink bad brandy. I must be soothed and flattered in my soul if I am to succeed at this gruelling job of creating a world out of nothing. — Wagner in a letter to Liszt. JANUARY 1963 45 The need for amending the Constitution is long due. It is time to resolve the question of the pres idential term: four years with, of six years without reelection? I' THE PRESIDENTIAL TERM Dean Roscoe Pound, one of every conceivable situation America’s foremost jurists, once said: “The law must be stable, but it cannot stand still.” Another American, the late Mr. Justice Benjamin Nathan Cardozo, also observ ed that, in the law, “there must be rest as well as mo tion.” These observations are significant, not so much for the apparent paradox they pose, as for their capsule des cription of the law’s nature. That the law should not fol low every passing whim and fad is too obvious to need em phasis here. But that it should be able to cope with every vital change in the na tional sphere is something on which there have been as ma ny differences of opinion as those who have expressed them. Briefly, one side in sists that the daw, as set down at one point in a people’s his tory, should be sufficiently comprehensive to apply to 46 that will later arise. On the other hand, the now more prevalent side theorizes that provisions should be made to re-mold the law to important changes in the body politic. To be sure, the observa tions above-cited .have little significance when one consi ders only legislative enact ments. They have particular application to so-called funda mental laws which-in»political systems as the Philippines would be found in written constitutions. Here, the first part of Dean Pound’s observation becomes cogent. Since, as ideally con ceived, a constitution should embody the basic structure of a nation’s political system, it would never be able to ful fill that function if changes of governments (or adminis trations) would be accompa nied by changes in some part of that constitution. If one Panorama set of elective officials would be able to impress upon the country their peculiar notions of how the government should be run, it is not too impro bable that one administration might yet come to power with anarchistic or totalita rian ideas. Of course, it is more possible that sober offi cers will get elected—or at least individuals with a mo dicum of patriotic feeling. Wisely, however, the^^mers of our own Constitution have not chosen to leave the choice of a political system to illconsidered and passing fa shions. Thus, an elaborate proce dure for amending the Con; stitution has prevented many administrations from forcing upon the people their pecu liar ideas of governing this country. It is only when the necessity for a change has become so compelling and has been so long called for that a sufficient majority may gather enough courage to alter what their predecessors saw fit to leave unchanged. At this mo ment, the second part of Dean Pound’s observation—"but it cannot stand still’’— reveals its logical necessity. One aspect of the constitutional structure which has long captured the attention of lawmakers and laymen alike is that governing the term of the President. The present provision gives the Chief Executive a four-year tenure with the right to seek re-election for a second term. It should be pointed out that this provision was not includ ed in the original constitu tion drafted by the delegates to the Constitutional Conven tion thirty years ago. Some rather frank observers con sider it as tailor-made for the late President Manuel L. Que zon. In 1940, when MLQ's term was about to expire, enthu siastic fellow party-members launched a campaign to have the Constitution amended so that he might continue in of fice. At that time, the provi sion on (he President gave him only 6 years without re election. The press took up the cue and finally convinced every man, woman, and child all over the country that it was for their good if MLQ stayed on. Needless to say, the Star of Baler soon found himself • faced with the pleas ant prospect of shining for JANUARY 1963 47 four more years in the nar tional firmament. But there was only one Quezon—as the people were soon to find out. Racked with tuberculosis, Manuel L. Que zon, first president of the Philippine C o mmonwealth, died in America with only half of his second term over. The late Sergio Osmefla took over until the late Manuel A. Roxas stepped in a$ the Re public’s first Chief Executive. Since Roxas, four men, in cluding the incumbent, have succeeded each other, only two of whom have been is elected to office. All those years, up to the present, the constitutional provision on the presidential term has undergone serious study. Very recently, news papers carried reports that, about the middle of this year, the original six-year term possibly without re-election will be reinstated. The in cumbent President has pru dently chosen to stay out of the picture by announcing that the amendment if push ed through and ratified by the electorate, should apply only to his successors. At this juncture, it‘ would be courting criticism to ex press opposition to the pro posed amendment. The po pular mind seems to have been molded into accepting its necessity as well as virtue. This should however be no reason to deter any intelligent discussion of the • issue for even in a democracy, it should be conceded that it is an intellectual elite which de termines ultimately what is good for this country. The majority should only be con vinced after the elite is con vinced. Briefly, then, these are the arguments for and againsst the present as well as the proposed terms for the Pres ident: For the four-7ear term with re-election — a good Pres ident will have a chance to continue after his first term while a bad President will only have four years within which to hold office. Against this argument is the proposition that no provision of law should be made for a bad man. Against the four-year term with re-election — the pros pect of seeking immediate, re election wifi hamper the Pres ident whn will be forced .tn spent! part of his time mend48 Panorama ing political fences at the ex pense of the country. This argument, incidentally, has another facet — that a sixyear term without re-election takes away the problem of having to court the people's favor at the risTt nt avoiding radical though meritorious policy decisions. For the six-year term — the period of six years is the •'ideal-—pnrind inacmiirh as it avoids the danger of cram ming lon^-range plans—inm four ~years at the same time averting the possibility- of dragging policy implrrrtenrnt.nn mtn a pp^d of eight years. . This argument, of course, has little logical basis since well-thought policies may well be implemented in less time, with equally good, if not better, results. For the six-year term, with out immediate re-election — while the incumbent will spend his entire first six years in working for the good of country without worrying about immediate re-election, the right to seek re-election after the lapse of six years since the end of his first term should give the people enough time to judge his performance and compare it with his successor-predecessor. Against the six-year term — the six years is too short for a good President and too long for a bad one. Apart from the argument that laws are made for good citizens, is the proposition which des troys this argument by main taining that even four is too long for a bad President. In any event, the argument is too specious to merit serious consideration. It should be evident at this juncture, that the focus of controversy is the provision allowing the imcurqbent tu run for re-election. Whether the term is four, six, or eh0t, years, the accompanying pro vision permitting immediate re-election sufficiently des troys any argument in sup port of any of these terms. Whether some presidents spend their entire term or only a part of it in courting the people's votes is not as important as the fact that they do use prerogatives of their office for personal rea sons. To a certain extent, this accounts for the preva lence of unethical, corrupt or outrigthly immoral practices of our public officials. JANUARY 1963 49 Quite apart from all these considerations however is the fact that the President of the Philippines has powers such as his foreign counterparts d« not have. Consequently, when an incumbent Chief Executive in the Phil ippines has his eye on the next presidential elect ions, the powers and preroga tives granted to his office by law become tempting wea pons to be used in wiping out all opposition to assure re-election. This factor should thus be considered the trfd provision of six years without immediate re-elect ion. For while the incum bent Chief Evecutive may not be able to run immedi ately after the end of his first term, he may still prepare for the time when he can, and to this end, he may well mis use his powers either by cam paigning actively for a fellow party-member to succeed him who will, of course, recipro cate by doing all he can to help his predecessor assume office again. One other factor should be taken into account. This is the problem of synchronizing elections. Even considering only the expense entailed by holding nationwide polls, the prospect of re-ordering the periods of election to syn chronize with the presidential polls is an easier alternative to adopt. If the election of the President were to be changed, that of the lesser officials would have to fol low. This requires further amendment of the Constitu tion as well as of various laws governing terms of of fice of the different public officials. The task is not thus as easy as it sounds. The most difficult part of the job has unfortunately not been com pleted yet — if one gives the proper authorities the benefit of the doubt that it has been started at all. This is the task of sitting down and examining the necessity for an amendment, its virtues as well as its defects, and, as a logical consequence, the good or bad it can do for the country. For while there is good reason to say that any term will do for a well-select ed President put into office by a well-informed electorate, there is little reason to con clude that “things will take care of themselves.” On the SO Panorama by feeding the former with a distorted image of the gov ernment and its functions. The duly-elected represent atives of the people have therefore the duty of setting aside partisan and petty dif ferences bearing in mind only that political fortunes may arise and fall but the Cons titution — repository of a na tion’s aspirations and goals — remains as that nation’s safeguard against tyranny and anarchy. — Ferdinand s. Tinio A BORROWED HISTORY? An Asian savant has truly said that a nation’s strength lies in its history, its past. And he adds, we, in Asia, must make up our minds that we cannot borrow other people’s history, and that if we stifle our own, we are committing suicide. When you borrow things that do not belong to your life, they only serve to crush your life. We must show those who have over us that we have the strength of moral power in ourselves, the power to suffer for truth. Where we have nothing to show, we only have to beg. — Tagore. January 1963 51 The good teacher can and should lead the sluggish pupil, inspire the brilliant and ambitious student, and instil in the others a love for learning. THE GOQD TEACHER In the course of a person’s life, he meets different kinds of people. The meeting may be brief or may span a good part of his life. But, to a great extent, such meetings leave him just a little differ ent — a little better or a lit tle worse — than before. It has thus been said that the sum total of a person’s asso ciations constitute his char acter. One kind of meeting which most everyone experiences in those impresssionable stages of his life involves an older person — the teacher. Indeed such an experience would ac count to a very large degree for the person’s attitudes, outlook in life, mode of thinking, and personality in the later part of his life, when he is actively grappling with various social forces to exist and find his happines. The teacher — and of course the parent — play maj or roles in shaping a person’s character in those years of his life when he is most receptive to external influences — good or bad. Although such things as heredity have their own parts to play in a person’s development, the external forces brought to bear upon them guide him as he chooses some path in his society. The good teacher may not make a brilliant student out of an inherently dull person, nor can he add anything more to the native talent of a gifted one. But the good teacher can and should lead the slug gish pupil, inspire the bril liant and ambitious student, and instil in the others a love for learning. One need not point out here the possibility that a person may meet a poor teacher and that such a meet ing can inflict damage on his character. But certainly it should be remembered that one recalls, later in his life, those teachers who have in 52 Panorama spired him and pointed out to him the good and beauti ful things in life. Long after he has forgotten that he had particularly difficult times with a bad or temperamental teacher, he remembers how one teacher showed him where to go that he may best make use of his native poten tials. Indeed, while he should never forget how to derive an equation or how to ana lyze a piece of literature, he always remembers though vaguely that one teacher out of many others had been able to remove the subject — be it mathematics, literautre, or law — out of its dim and musty nook and place it alongside other fields of knowledge thereby impressing upon him its particular signi ficance and beauty. One writer has succinctly described the essence of a good teacher — “a teacher of men, not surveyor of mere facts.” He is one who regards f. his pupils and students human beings and holds hin?K self before them as one. He is one who has succeeded in resolving this dilemma — that of being objective, presenting to his pupils aspects and pro blems of truth and learning without advocating for one or the other and, at the same time, being able to make his pupils understand that cer tain values and concepts must be respected and that he him self has deep convictions about them. Take one kind of teacher — that one who concerns him self with man’s history and man-made institutions. Cer tainly, the good teacher is able to take the records of ancient men and events and give them life — not simply by forceful and vivid discus sion of factors which caused this civilization to flourish and that one to crumble. He distills from the archaic and the dim past the values and truths which are as valid then as now. At the same time, he is able to point out that absolutes have little sig nificance but that ideas and concepts change with every change of society and with every passing generation. And yet, the good teacher makes his pupils realize that certain values — “good” ones — have a certain attraction such that men in practically every stage of history have espoused them and built civilJANUARY 1963 53 izations, or at least, social groups with them. Or take the scientist — that teacher who has spent his life learning the physical forces, seen and unseen, cons tituting the universe. Here, as in other fields of kpowledge, the function of the good teacher, as well as his value in a person’s spiritual and intellectual growth, is to show that science is but one aspect of knowledge and that it represents by himself the efforts of men from dif ferent societies and genera tions. As such — that is to say, as part of a greater man made whole and as the result of different minds, — science has values associated with man. The scientist, however, realizes and makes his pupils so realize it, that the forces of the universe have been at work long before an animal such as man came into exist ence and will subsist long af ter he has become extinct. Humility, therefore, is only one of the many virtues which the scientist inculcates in his pupils. While the scientist, as a good teacher, has an obliga tion to lay bare the facts, he has the more important res ponsibility. of making his pupils realize that there are physical forces which can des troy or improve men. This, one ultimately discovers, is the primary function of the good teacher. He does not merely convey men’s thoughts, words, and deeds. The study of this, one writer has said, does not in itself help man to do, say and think what i5 right. The good teacher helps the pupil dev elop a sense of judgment and perspective which, the same writer has said, will enable the student to evaluate his own experience. This is, he said, a task which must be own his responsibility and which no teacher can do for him. One may however add that the good teacher can pre pare the student for this task. And one realizes much later in one’s life that this is how some teachers are remember ed and others forgotten. Viewed from the heights of reason, all life looks like some malignant disease and the world like a mad house. — Goethe. 54 Panorama As an instrument for suppressing thought, other than the thoughts doled out for public acceptance, TV has the advantages of an established and unchal lengeable Church. - TELEVISION: THE NEW OPTIUM - OF THE PEOPLE ♦ Maurice Woods Much has been said about the influence of TV on peo ple, not enough about the in fluence of people on TV. People get the TV they de serve, just ast they get the Government they deserve. In future they may get both in the same parcel. For TV is an all-purpose drug. It can wake people up and .it can send them to sleep. It could be the most power ful political awakener since the bicycle took revolution to Africa, or it could turn us into pigs and let Circe rule the island. The dangers advertise themselves as loudly as any commercial. Among the most insistant is the possility that TV will enable the majority to tyrannise even more effect ively than now. The very fact that men own TV sets enlarges this fear.* Hungry men do not make a thought ful opposition, but at least they make an opposition: those who are having it good can be persuaded to praise God from whom all consumer goods flow. But a TV set is not merely a possession; it is part of the apparatus of persuasion. It is a powerful preacher of the doctrine that material prosperity is an end in itself. Too firm believers in this doctrine are not trou bled by Lenin’s question “Who, whom?” So long as ' it pays them they are content to be whom, leaving the busi ness of being who to the ma jority their votes keep in po wer. It is not, of course, a new problem. Only the TV is JANUARY 1963 55 new. The problem is at least as old as the Greeks. In our time it is at least as old as John Stuart Mill, who might have been foreseeing televis ed culture when he grew per turbed at the power of col lective mediocrity. What you may ask, is wrong with col lective mediocrity? Has there ever been a time when po pular culture rose above the mediocre? The point is that the culture purveyed by the TV set is not popular culture in the sense of having sprung from the people. It has been given to the people as the lowest common denominator of their fantasies. Men’s attitudes are immea surable. Their opinions do not change as visibly as lit mus paper. It must be many years before anyone can make even a guess at the extent to which TV alters the political life of a nation. Its effect on the adult mind can at pre sent only be inferred from the more precise work done with children. The report brought out by H. T. Himmelweit in 1958 on "Television and the Child” made the positive as sertion that TV influences the way children think and the judgments they make. It is safe to assume that the adult does not go wholly un scathed. Assuming, then, that thoughts and judgments are affected, it is permissible to guess that thoughts become compressed within limits set by the communicators, ana judgments brought into line with those favoured by the majority. The tendency, in fact, is to produce conformity of thought and feeling in a so ciety which can be democra tic only so long as a fruitful interplay of conflicting thoughts and feelings is en couraged. The moment the original thinker becomes a laughing-stock, or the rebel an outcast, tyranny is on the way in. This is not conjec ture, but experience. The brief but bateful triumph of McCarthyism in the United States is a case in point. Gal loping conformism brought American democracy almost to its death-bed. The patie n t ’ s constitution was sound, and it survived: would its recovery have been so swift if thoughts and feelings had lain'congealed in a na tional mould for several de cades? If there had been se tt Panorama veral decades, instead of seve ral years, of TV? Less spectacularly, the ha bit of conforming with con ventional attitudes could give conservatism virtually perpetual ascendancy in any country. Conservatism de mands no thought, simply obedience. As an instrument for suppressing thought, other than the thoughts dol ed out for public acceptance, TV has the advantages of an established and unchallenge able Church. There are gleaming exam ples of the immunity of pre TV democracies to unseen propagandists. One of the distinguishing marks of a de mocracy is its willingness to allow its citizens to listen to any half-truhts from any source, knowing that the mental sinews strengthened by debate will be strong enough to resist. It was not only confidence in the pat riotism of soldiers and civi lians which gave Lord HawHaw the freedom of the war time air. Hearts were judg ed to be right, but heads were also known to have been screwed on firmly by the democratic habit of weighing and selecting argu ments. Totalitarian regimes can not expose their people to opposing views, because the beliefs sustaining totalitarian ism are mere lodgers in the individual’s mind. They have not grown there: they have been put there. So long as nothing disturbs them, the regime is safe. The attitudes likely to be built up in the democratic citizen by years of watching TV bear some re semblance to the beliefs of a totalitarian society. The un critical assimilation of ideas presented on behalf of the majority could wither the fa culty of judgment and pre vent that radical re-examina tion of society on which de mocracies rely for their per iodic rejuvenation. We can still doubt whether TV is having this effect on the electorate. We cannot doubt that it is having an uncanny effect on politicians. They regard it as a potent means of enticing voters on to the hook. It has never mattered much to politicians how the voter is hooked, so long as they can land him. If reason serves, reason will be employed: if not, promis January 1963 57 es, flattery and fervour will do as well. These ancient devices are a legacy of the hustings. TV has devices of its own. What worked well on a platform with a brass band, with mass emotion, op portunist oratory and spon taneous repartee, does not work at all when the sup pliant is in a box by the fireside, addressing a family trapped between the cowboys and the quiz. A policy or a party image must be sold, as other merchandise is sold. The politicians now have schools to teach them slick ness. The cardinal rule is to di vert attention from hard facts to delectable fancies. Hair-cream is not sold by mentioning its popularity among dustmen. It has to be associated with ambition. The young man with the shining mane has a car which he could only have bought out of an enormous salary, he is pestered by beautiful girls, and his social status is rising. What they are selling is not hair-cream but a lucky charm. The appeal is not to reason, but to a submerged reverence for magic which is inimical to democracy, yet is now being played upon more forcefully than was possible before TV was invented. Cleverly handled, the me dium is capable of confering a halo on the shoddiest con sortium of careerist nobodies. The party likeliest to win in an election would be the one with the least respect for the truth. At best, a television campaign could so befuddle the voter that he failed .to distinguish the honest men from the knaves. Not that there would be much incen tive to honesty, when rewards went to the underhanded. Yet even this is not the great est peril. A party which mere ly used the screen to hypno tise the electorate into ac cepting its policies might still have sound policies to offer: the real fear is that the-par ties might grow to look like their own picture of them selves. That is the pessimistic prospect. There is also an optimistic prospect. For TV could yet have precisely the opposite effect. The free mind has surely not outlived centuries of subversion and intimidation to be ensnared so easily by this new instru ment of conformism. Once 58 Panorama the public learns the rules, once discrimination sets in, the individual is just as capa ble of using the communica tors as the communicator of using the individual. The world’s agonies are delivered daily to the living room. Statesmen who were once blurred photographs in newspapers squat in the cor ner and are scrutinised. Science has hopped out of the unopened text-book and displays itself as a living force. Art imposes itself on the notice of people who never entered a gallery. There are few human acti vities concerning which some inFormation, however proces sed, does not percolate to minds hitherto unreceptive. Are we to be so misanthropic as to deny that the public will make good use of this information? By making two blades of knowledge grow where only one grew before, TV has the power to enlarge the mean ing of the phrase “informed public opinion”. Hitherto only a small section of the electorate could lay claim to independence of thought, for independence rests on knowl edge. The more knowledge the ordinary man acquires, the greater' his capacity to question the opinions and at titudes forced upon him. TV thus has the paradoxical abi lity to defeat itself, at its own game, to keep at bay the ma jority dictatorship which threatens to arise in a self satisfied and unthinking de mocracy. Indeed, instead of being the new opium of the people, TV will probably turn out to be a political alarm-clock. The gloomy view is tempt ing in this first decade of its reign, but if we remember that the viewers are matur ing all the time, absorbing unfamiliar* facts, seeing through false personalities, detecting the aces hidden up sleeves, the next decade looks promising. Whatever its ulti mate effect on social and poli tical attitudes there can be no hating an invention which makes people interested in the world’s affair.—Contempora ry Review. JANUARY 1963 59 The times demand that the media of communicationfc be as free and as objective as possible. But our newspapers have betrayed their responsibility. Why? THE NEED FOR' ENLIGHTENED JOURNALISM AND JOURNALISTS i While admittedly science and technology have shrunk the world to such an extent that only hours separate the capitals of Europe and Asia from the regions of Africa, the abyss which separates men’s minds is still as wide as it was when Rabelais, more than three centuries ago, ob served that “half the world does not know how the other half lives.” The bridges span ning that abyss, the media of communications which sup posedly have enabled men to know one another better, are at best frail and at worst illu sory and deceptive. They are frail because they are of bad materials, they are deceptive because often they give only the illusion that the abyss has been spanned. The newspapers, which, more than the radio, televi sion or films, reach the great er number of people, have often been the harbingers of that false sense of knowledge between men. The abyss bet ween their minds, if we may be allowed to pursue the me taphor further, may also be taken as the abyss between the two worlds, the East and the West, which, both ideo logically and culturally speak ing, have never spanned that chasm with a suitable bridge which would bring them to gether. And in this pitiable state of affairs, the future, if ever there will be a future, will heap most of the blame an the newspapers. J For either wilfully or other wise, the newspapers, in spite of the fact that they hold the power to bring East and West together and perhaps bring about a better understanding between men, have done no thing less than the opposite. In this they have betrayed 60 Panorama their responsibility, not only to nations or to groups of nations, but potentially to the whole world. For today when there is greater need for sanity, when the world stands at the brink — facing its greatest test of whether men will turn their rockets to heaen or to each other, the news papers have saddeningly add ed only to the madness which threatens to possess us. They have fanned the waves of hysteria through false reports, they have set nations upon another through such exam ples of journalism which cha racterized the coverage of the Congo crisis. The newspapers are the books of the people, and the people learn what to think, what to say, what to demand through the newspapers. The enlightened newspapers know that an enlightened people creates an enlightened nation, and an enlightened nation may bring enlighten ment to the whole world, in this age when one example may turn the rest. But if the newspaper condones the pre judices of the people, and re ports the news according to the conformist temper, then what enlightment can follow? The Cuban affair is not an isolated case. Just as the newspapers which reach us did not give us the full pic ture in Laos, or the Congo, on in Berlin, so did they present to us a lop-sided view of Cuban-American relations. Perhaps this is forgivable, if we presume — and indeed it is a presumption — that the majority of the people think for themselves and do not listen to one-sided interpre tations of world or domestic affairs. If we may presume that this is so, then the pic ture becomes brighter, it seems, for given the inform ation, one may draw his own conclusions. But again in this regard we find ourselves against a wall: the newspapers, more often than not, have been proven to accept rumor as fact, opinion as actuality. For the cardinal sin of the newspapers is not that they do not inform, but that they mis-inform. Perhaps it would not be unfair to say that the muddled world sit uation, the spectacle of man on the brink of annihilation, can partly be blamed on the fact that the newspapers have unwittingly or otherwise failed to present JANUARY 1963 61 the accurate and complete picture of foreign situations. But all this may sound too far-off, too unnatural. The world situation, one may say, is not that bad. This is the consolation of those who live in a fool’s paradise: of those who hold the blanket of false security over their heads, re fusing to accept that the blanket offers no protection at all. If the newspapers were accused before a court for the gravest crime they have committed against men and nations, the charge would most probably be not that of giving men a feeling of insecurity, but that of lulling them into a false sense of security, which is the more dangerous. It is the more dangerous in that it makes men content in their complacency, exultant in their ignorance. And ig norance, in this age when so much is at stake, is the sin against the Holy Ghost. If men are ignorant of such world affairs as the Berlin crisis (or of affairs in Laos where a Congressman at one time wanted to send Filipino troops to); unknowingly ig norant, but cajoled into be lieving that they are wise, then they become content, reasoning thus: I know, I am wise, therefore, there is nothing to fear. Knowledge brings security, one is secure in knowing what the stakes are, what may happen. next, and how to remedy mistakes and to act accordingly. But if the knowledge is false, then one is led into a false sense of security: one merely thinks he knows what the stakes are, what may happen next, what to do. Such false knowledge leads to false remedies: a case of applying the wrong cure for the wrong ailment. Those blinded by the harsh light of reality will stumble into the pit. The Romans refused to heed the signs of collapse; the foundations crumbled before they could apply the appropriate re medy. Centuries later, the Germans were beaten up to a frenzy of hatred against the Jews, only to wake up four years later to find millions of Jews dead and burdens to their conscience. One may well ask at this point: but it is possible that whole nations may be led to believe a false idea? The willful manipulation of pub 62 Panorama lie opinion known as propar ganda has proven this time and again. Hitler managed to stir a whole nation be hind an irrational cause, was able to whip it into a frenzy of hate. At home, here in the Philippines, one has only to look around to answer this question: the witchkhunter prospers as he condones the prejudices of the mass and is condoned by the newspapers. The elite resists all efforts to be dislocated, as their bene volent images are flashed be fore the public eye, while they steal the shirt off the people’s backs. The alien gains more and more power as he is painted as a whole some image by the newspa pers before the people he ex ploits. The intellectuals are at bay, the non-conformists pilloried.. All this through those organs which form, re mold and sway public opin ion. The greater mass of peo ple cannot buy books, can not afford radios or tele vision sets. They turn to the newspapers. The newspa pers, by condoning their pre judices, by clouding the facts, have helped create a people without identity, a people still plagued by me dieval fears, a people ignor ant and complacent, fight ing the wars of other people and an easy prey to exploit ers, both national and alien. One may well ask: why have the newspapers betray ed their responsibility? II What is the ideal news paperman? He is preferably a college graduate, has had a liberal education in the sciences, the arts, politics. His work requires a depth of feeling, an intellect of broad horizons capable of un derstanding. Unfortunately, it seems that this ideal newspaperman does not exist, or if he does, may find himself lost among the not-so-ideal, and presum ably corrupted by them. For perhaps the biggest factor to which we can attribute the failure of newspapers to live up to their ideals is ignor ance. The newspapers are full of it everyday: narrow minded editorials, smug, me diocre columns, slanted news reports, propaganda mater ial taken for fact. A case in point is the con fusion in terms which mani January 1963 63 fested itself during the cele brated witch-hunt of the last preselection witch-hunting season: the newspapers did not bother to clarify the con fusion but added to it. The isms were' mixed up and made as one, producing the tongue-twisting combination of this ism: tatheism-agnostic i s m-c o m m u n i s msocialism. The newspaper became, unwittingly or other wise, an instrument to mir ror the prejudices of the mass, an instrument to make them feel safe and arrogant in their ignorance. And then one still remem bers the American coverage of the Cuban “invasion” which was swallowed by the Filipino press with the gull ibility of school children. It is such ignorance that should be remelied, such gul libility that should be stop ped in our newspapers. But if one will do this, then one must reform the members who make up the newspa pers: the men behind it make the newspaper what it is. The uneducated, even those who have diplomas from some diploma mill, whose perpectives are limited to reading and writing and adding a column of figures, should not become news papermen. The world does not encompass merely one’s self: one knows that there are other people, other feel ings besides one’s own: this the newspaperman must know. But when his preju dices are many and varied, his intellectual horizons li mited, his misconceptions legion, then he has no place in a newspaper. Ill The newspaperman’s par ticipation in the propaganda war is either unconscious or deliberate. In the first case it involves ignorance, the in ability to distinguish news from propaganda. In the se cond, it is part of a campaign into which the newspaper man must be above even the cold war between East and West. Over and above his partisan feelings in his duty to report the news objective ly, to comment on it and to interpret it regardless of his affiliations. But often, while the newspaperman may himself know this, other factors may force him to submit; to write or print propaganda material. The 64 Panorama publisher may stand to lose something or may have com mon interests with either side: in which case, the pub lisher takes a hand in the act ual running of the paper, de cides which editorials are to be printed, which news to be given prominence or sup pressed. This is direct, un veiled control of the power of the printed word. On the the other hand, the newspaperman may be pres sured indirectly: he may cen sor himself, or may write ac cording to what he knows the advertisers want. Or it may be more petty. It may be personal propaganda foi the publisher and may take the form of suppression or manufacturing of news, or slanting it and weighing it down on one side’s favor, or it may involve fuzzy logic in the editorial pages, or pre judiced opinion in the co lumns. Thus the newspaper be comes, in the first ca se, an organ for the ideological war and in the second, a second shadow of the publisher, fol lowing him everywhere and bending to his will. Such an arrangement, in either case, breeds the kind of newspa pers which do not properly belong in any society which seeks to improve itself. For they are weak and timorous newspapers which take no sides but their own, they choose, to straddle the fence instead of being involved in issues as protagonists. Thus the newspaper may take issue on such a thing as d o p e-peddling. Everybody hates dope: that is as safe a line to take as any. So they campaign against dope. Well and good. But it stops there. In issues where the lines are not as well defined, where the difference between colors is not as sharp as the differ ence between black and white, buj is often subtle, the newspaper merely re ports or chooses to be silent. Thus a big newspaper chose to be non-committal over the witch-hunt in 1961 in the State University. While the other newspapers were against it or for it, it chose to be silent. Such a news paper is worse than that which betrays its prejudices for it allows for no formation of public opinion. January 1963 65' IV Perhaps the historian who shall record this age will say, if indeed newspapers are the mirror of the age, that this was a confused age: an age of ignorance primarily. For if indeed newspapers must mir ror the society in which they exist, then our newspapers will not speak well of our so ciety. But then are newspapers solely, the mirrors of society? Are they not part too of so ciety and therefore to a cer tain degree responsible in shaping it? The prejudices may exist but they can be given new form, new strength; or else diminished by the newspapers. The alien exploiters may already be strongly entrenched in the nation’s economy, but they can still be strenthened or else weakened by the news papers. But it has often been the former that the news paperman chooses. This has been so, is so and probably will be so if newspapers and newspapermen continue to be vehicles of ignorance and of the will of their publish ers. This will always be so as long as the big publishers use newspapers to protect or advance their other business es. This will always be so as long as the newspaperman voluntarily submits to cen sorship. This will always be so as long as the newspaper men continue to be as ignor ant and as bigoted as the peo ple they are supposed to en lighten. This we must consi der: the newspaperman’s pro fession demands not that he conform but that he think, that other than imbibe the vices of his society, he has the choice of attempting its im provement through the press whose power is almost unlimitted. The only remedy for ig norance is of course educat ion: education in the arts, education in sciences, edu cation in politics. But let us not deceive ourselves into thinking that the man offer ed such an opportunity for self-improvement will neces sarily grow into a fine news paperman. Education mere ly molds what is already there; it cannot supply what is missing. The newspaper therefore which would carry out its task of enlightening the people, will look not on66 Panorama ly at the diploma but at the man. The man will show himself as he really is: whe ther fanatic or liberal, ignor ant or wise. The newspaper will have to be rigid with its requirements. The res ponsibility which accompa nies the power of the writer is great but cannot be shouldered by the weak. The ability to write fast copy is not enough, as appa rently it is today. The abili ty to think, must not be only one, but the primary consi deration. But even the educated will find himself against a wall often: he has to eat too and his children have to be fed. This can be remedied by the organization of newspapers subsidized by the govern ment which will therefore be fearless both against the government and against the other segments of society. In the Philippines such a set-up is highly favorable. The freedom of the press in the country is such that the government, if it should sub sidize a newspaper, cannot possibly restrict it. When strict codes and trustees in a newspaper are set up, the possibility of political pro teges entering the newspaper becomes nil. Independent from corporations and from businesses and able to surv i v e without advertising, that newspaper will be ideal, with the newspaperman wen assured that he will not suf fer regardless of whom he hurts.' He will be the ideal fiscal izer, the ideal chroni cler of the age and the unin hibited thinker, able "to view both sides of any issue and to take sides without fear of reprisal. Such a government-subsi dized newspaper will mean the nationalization of the press first, then its indepen dence from the big publish ers. Definitely, the need for nationalizing the press has never been greater than it is now. The aliens who would control whole n a ti o n s through economic exploit ation have certainly made use of newspapers for that purpose. Nationalization, as a first step, will mean at least that the media of com munication will not be mo nopolies of aliens. It will be a step towards the redisco very of ourselves and to wards complete independ ence. JANUARY 1963 67 More and more Asian newspapers are being made to conform as petty bureaucrats assume new role of intinridators and censors. A' PRESSURES ON ASIAN EDITORS Rohan Rivett Editors and publishers in most countries of non communist Asia are probably facing their most difficult period since the liberation struggles were won. We have now reached a point in many countries where we may further jeo pardize the remaining traces of freedom enjoyed by an ed itor simply by naming him and stating his problems. Cholera, yaws and beri beri spread fast in Southern Asia. Government attempts to trammel and subjugate the press have been just as in fectious. The spectacular extreme has been achieved by the Soekamo government of Indone sia. Six or seven years ago, there were more than a score of daily and weekly papers expressing a vigorous variety of viewpoints, from extreme left to extreme right. Today, the Indonesian press is entire- ~ ly gagged. It is harnessed to the chariot wheels of the Soekarno machine and virtually nothing can be read in it which can embarrass members of the government or the bu reaucracy. Pretences abandoned In Indonesia, even the pre tences have been abandoned. The national news agency has been controlled and is domi nated by cabinet ministers. Yet, in other Asian countries with more subtlety and heed for appearances, a variety of ~~ pressures are being used to force the courageous, exposing, protesting editor into line. In one country, relatively reowned for freedom of the * Rohan Rivett is director of the International Press Institute. 68 , Panorama < > press, there have been mina tory remarks about powers enjoyed by the chief execu tive to control political co lumnists and those who pub lish their writing. In an other, a couple of quite mild and strictly fair objections to government policy have led to presentation of demands for books and tax returns go ing back a number of years. The amount of information demanded alone can militate against effective working of this newspaper. What is even more alarm ing to many Asians publish ers and editors is the emerg ence of the provincial or lo cal civic boss and his chief bureaucrats as intimidators and censors. The matter is often not known to the cen tral government but there are police raids at night, threats and occasionally phy sical violence against editors and correspondents. Official “warmings”, which are no thing short of blackmail, have become increasingly common. What seems most alarming in several countries is that the situation has now deter iorated so far that the wrong ed newspapers and n e w spapermen dare not disclose their harships to the rest of the-press at home or abroad. Worse still, there are large areas where their colleagues, knowing and resenting what is being done, are still too fearful to publish the facts. If one might draw a rough graph of overall freedom of the press in non-communist Asia, it might be shown to have climbed steeply and cheerfully from about 1947 until six or seven years later. Then there was a marked le veling-off and, ever since, I fear, an undeviating but perceptible downward trend in the majority of areas. It is very easy and most unhelpful for the overseas visitor to criticize. The surprising and heart ening thing is that in towns and cities all over Asia, there are still so many publishers, editors and working journa lists, fiercely conscious of the threat, courageously resisting it and looking around for new armholds and support in their fight against the current. However, when you get be low the surface, you find that a similar pattern of newsJanuary 1963 69 papper behaviour has helped, in the undermining of the press by totalitarian-minded politicians. Among familiar factors damaging the press are: — a) Blackmarketing of news print and faking of circulation and, therefore, consumption figures; b) Soliciting of central gov ernment, city or municipal advertising. c) Suppression of matter em barrassing to the groups supported by the paper; d) Irresponsible reporting. None of these activities are unknown in western coun tries with far older traditions of press conduct and press freedom. It would be utterly wrong to suggest that the South Asian press as a whole bears responsibility for the gradual but general whittling down of its freedom by the political authority, particluarly in the last two or three years. It is easily understood that the great nationalist leader, who has been a champion of freedom of the press in the days of “colonial” dominat ion, finds it awkward and embarrassing when his poli tical opponents use this free dom of the press to criticize measures which he sincerely believes to be in the best in terests of his emergent peo ple. The tempting example of the world’s various dictator ships is always at hand. In Southern Asia today, many political leaders, both mili tary and non-military, are in clining to the view that free dom of the press is a nine teenth century luxury which has no relevance amid the desperate needs of twentieth century Asia. They are now unmindful of the disasters which befell those masters of a muzzled press, the dictator ial governments of nazi Ger many, Italy and Japan, des troyed in the ’forties’. It is extremely grim that, in 1962, one should find, in countries which nominally still pretend to freedom, an editor who looks you in the eyes and says: “I never know, when I leave home in the morn ing, if I shall see my wife and children again in the evening.” or “I expect several of us, in cluding myself, will have to go to jail before things are any better.” 70 Panorama There are still informed, thinking liberals in Asian cabinets and even in the mi litary cabals that now enjoy complete control in several of’ these countries. These men realize the dan gers to the development of their countries of destroying criticism, controversy and ex posure of grievances. They realize how easily in nations, where there is a great shortage of skills, train ing and general knowledge, government and bureaucracy, protected from criticism, can obstruct progress and dev elopment. The history of Asia, from Turkey across to China, is replete with exam ples of the damage so done under the empires of old. But these enlightened men are in a minority. The po wer-hungry, the unsure, the ambitious demagogues, hav ing once got themselves into the saddle, now prove them selves the first to turn on the healthy criticisms and expos ures by the press which often helped them attain office. In Asia today, these men are increasingly the influen tial majority. Hence, real and vivid fears, often backed by bitter personal experience, have invaded scores of news paper offices and executive desks. The scared publisher is quickly revealed. His editor ials steer clear of “sticky” subjects. Passion and fervour appear only in support of official government projects. Columnists are warmed abput those banderilla paragraphs which are the spice and high light of good political co lumnwriting about the po werful. The opposition part ies (where such exist!) get less space. In short, the paper is at pains to conform. This care fully ordered conformity is the muzzle of total frustrat ion for the conscientious journalist who believes his job is to expose and inform. Quite apart from the plight of many Asian newspaper men today, this tendency is an immense threat to the so lution of free Asia’s crying needs during the remainder of the twentieth century. The far-sighted in Asia see this clearly. How can publishers and editors in the western world strengthen their hands? JANUARY 1963 71 The most bloodcurdling crimes are done not by criminals but by perpectionists. This article pro vides an answer. THE UNADJUSTED MAN Peter Today Americans have no outer or geographic frontier left to conquer. This pushes us, instead, to increasingly in ward conquests. Therefore, let us stop being defensive, stop being apologetic about affirming the dignity and im portance of the so-called im practical: namely, the human istic and the spiritual studies. Today, in the campus curri cula, they receive more lip service than a decade ago but they are more squeezed in practice. These curricula re flect an atomic age which puts a new premium on the technician and on practical outer applications of inner theory. Yet without the un derstanding of man’s inner nature, which impractical art — last refuge of civilization’s secret fires VlERECK and literature gives us, and without the inner ethical res traint which religion gives us, our outer practical and me chanical progress is paving our road to hell with good inventions. The number of cells in the brain and the number of the stars in the universe are said to be exactly equal in num ber. So-and-so-many trillion units apiece. From this unprovable fancy emerges a me taphor: the gigantic dream versus matter is balanced ex actly evenly, at the fulcrum of the forehead. Soul versus cosmos: imagine them balanc ing with a one-to-one corres pondence between the units without and within the skull; 72 Panorama between the stars and the no leu radiant brain-cells. Thia true metaphor is de fied—this scale is upset—by any philosophy which deems either side of the equal scale as "more real.” If this were a universe of the Middle Ages, I might argue against one sided overemphasis on the in ward dimension. But in the case of America, there is no danger of overweighing the inner side, the esthetic and spiritual side. America’s dan ger is overemphasis of the outward side: the star-matter, not the gray-matter. The dimension behind the forehead has two functions: the unleashing function of creative imagination .and the restraining function of the Christian-Judiac ethic. These two different functions of in wardness are often found apart and often battle each other in an inner civil war. Yet, even when at war both need each other. Neither is enough by itself to sustain a culture. The esthetic imagin ation without ethics degener ates into irresponsible, anti social bohemianism; ethics without beauty degenerates into the “seven deadly vir tues” of a preachy, devitalized aridity. Here it seems appro priate to recall the so-to-speak deathbed-repentance of a very great thinker who had neg lected inwardness. I wonder how many of my readers will reorganize its author: If I had my life to live over again, I would have made a rule to "read some poetry and listen to some music at least once a week; for perhaps the parts of my brain now atro phied would thus have kept active through use. The loss of these tastes is a loss of hap piness and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, and more probably the moral character, by enfeebling the emotional part of our nature. This was no ivory-tower es thete speaking, but a great scientist and a rather hardboiled one. Namely, Charles Darwin. When I hear of our Am erican delusion of “produc ing” creatively by expensive outer equipment instead of unbuyable inner equipment, I remember my first meeting with Albert Einstein, seeing him in New York, strolling along Riverside Drive, ab sentmindedly scribbling notes on the back of a torn old en velope. From a scrawl on a JANUARY 1963 73 penny’s worth of scrap paper, by a man w'hose inner genius was never adjusted away at age six, and not from teams endowed by foundations with electric typewriters and filing systems came the greatest sci entific discoveries of the cen tury, including those superpractical H-bombs. In short, without an ornery, unadjust ed inner spark, our present drive for outward techniques is not enough to save us either spiritually or militar ily. Let us educators not be in timidated by the practical folk the so-called realists and experts. Let us not be afraid to listen to the so-called im practical people, the so-called unrealistic people. Every overadjusted society swallows up the diversities of private bailiwicks, private eccentrici ties, private inner life, and the creativity inherent in con crete personal loyalties and in loving attachments to unique local roots and their rich historical accretions. Apropos the creative poten tial of local roots, let us re call not only Burke’s words on the need for loyalty to one’s own “little platoon” but also Synge’s words, in the Ireland of 1907, on “the springtime of the local life,” where the imagination of man is still “fiery and magnificent and tender.” The creative imagination of the free sci entists and free artists requir es private elbow-room, free from the pressure of central ization and the pressure of adjustment to a mass average. This requirement holds true even when the centralization is benevolent, and even when the mass average replaces sub average diversities. Admittedly certain kinds of diversity are perfectly dread ful; they threaten everything superior and desirable. But at some point the cure to these threats will endanger the,superior and the desirable even more than do the threats themselves. The most vicious maladjustments, economic, moral, or psychiatric, will at some point become less dan gerous to the free mind than the overadjustment needed to cure them. In the novel and in the poem, the most corrupting development of all is the sub stitution of technique for art. What once resulted from the inspired audacity of a heartbreakingly lonely crafts 74 Panorama man is now mass-produced in painless, safe, and uninspired capsules. This process is tak ing over every category of ed ucation and literature. The stream of consciousness for which James Joyce wrestled in loneliness with language, the ironic perspective toward society which Proust attained not as entertainment but as tragedy, the quick, slashing insights for which a Virginia Woolf or a Katherine Mans field bled out her heart, all these intimate personal achi evements of the private life are today the standard props of a hundred hack imitators, mechanically vending what is called "The New Yorker-type story.” Don’t underestimate that type of story; though an imitation job, it is imitation with all the magnificent tech nical skill of America’s bestedited weekly. And think of the advantages: no pain any more, no risk any more, no more nonsense of inspiration. Most modern readers are not even bothered by the differ ence between such an effici ent but bloodless machine job and the living product of in dividual heart’s anguish. What then, is the test for telling the real inspiration from the just-as-good, the cof fee from the Nescafe? The test is pain. Not mere phy sical pain but the exultant, transcending pain of selfless sacrifice. The test is that holy pain, that brotherhood of sacrifice, that aristocracy of creative suffering of which Baudelaire wrote. "Je sais que la douleur est I’unique noblesse” In other words, in a free de mocracy the only justified aristocracy is that of the lone ly creative bitterness, the artistically creative scars of the fight for the inner di mension against outer me chanization:—the fight for the private life. Nothing can mechanically "produce” unadjustedness. But at least some studies— the "impractical” literary classics—provide it with more fertile soil than does “educa tion for citizenship.” The latter slogan has led to over adjustment in life, McCarthy ism in education.. The stress of many liberals on teaching ephemeral civic needs instead of permanent classics gave the antiliberal demagogues their opening for trying to terrorize education into pro pagandizing "Americanism.” JANUARY 1963 75 What “progressive education” forgot was this: its favorite word “citizenship” would of ten be defined in practice not by some lofty John Dewey but by some thought-control ling politician, interested in garnering not wisdom but votes. Yet all these seemingly ir resistible pressures of overad justment can be triumphantly resisted, after all, if the Un adjusted Man makes full -use of his many available bur rows. I am .thinking of Kaf ka’s story, “The Burrow.” The very vastness of Ameri ca’s machinery of depersonal ization makes it easier in Am erica today than in “old cul tured Europe” to safeguard undisturbed the burrows of the creative imagination. They often occur where least expected: in the drabbest, most bustling metropolis. To rely on burrows does not mean to become isolat ed, deracinated. Such sane asylums for individual ity, spreading contagious health amid mechanized con formity. need never degene rate into the inhuman aloof ness of the formalist, ivory tower pose, so long as their quarrel with America re mains a lovers’ quarrel. Without the inner dimen sion, outer civil liberties are not enough. We can talk civil liberties, prosperity, democracy with tongues of men and angels, but it is merely a case of “free from what?” and not “free for what?” if we use this freedom for no other purpose than to commit television or go lust ing after supermarkets. In contrast with earlier eras ever more colleges want to know: is the applicant well-adjust ed, a good mixer, chockful of leadership qualities? To any student reckless enough to ask my unstreamlined advice, I can only growl: ‘Why not for once have the moral courage to be unadjusted, a bad mixer, and shockingly de void of leadership qualities?” From being well-adjusted for its own sake, what a short step to becoming overadjust ed: the public-relations per sonality of public smile, pri vate blank. In effect, an ecs tasy of universal lobotomy. This kind of overadjustment does not mean merely the stampedes toward “normal cy” that have periodically characterized our less mecha 76 Panorama nized past; rather, the new trend means a bed^of-Procrustes, shaped by a conti nuous secret Gallup Poll, for whose pseudo-norms our gen uine inner spontaneity is continaully slaughtered. From this trend a new Am erican idol emerges: the Overadjusted Man. Against it a new liberator emerges, a bad mixer and scandalously deviod of “education for citi zenship”: the Unadjusted Man. Unadjustedness seems the only personal heroism left in a machine-era of which William Faulkner said at Stockholm: “We all had better grieve for all people beneath a culture which holds any machine superior to any man." Today the humanist, the artist, the scholar can no longer be the prophet and seer, the unriddler of the outer universe; modern science has deprived him of that function. His new hero ism, unriddling the inner universe,. consists of this: to be stubbornly unadjusted to ward the mechanized, deper sonalized bustle outside. The Uandjusted Man is the final, irreducible pebble that sabotages the omnipotence of even the smoothest running machine. The unadjusted should not be confused with the mal adjusted, the merely crotche ty; nor with the flaunted grandstand-nonconformity of b ohe m i a’s “misunderstood genius” act. The alternative to these mere caricatures of the Unadjusted Man is a viewpoint more selective in its non-adjusting—a viewpoint whose coin has two reciprocal sides: adjustment to the ages, nonadjustment to the age. The meaningful moral choice is not between con forming to the ephemeral, stereotyped values of the mo ment but conforming to the ancient, lasting archetypal values shared by all creative cultures. The sudden uprooting of archetypes, which had slowly, painfully grown out of the soil of history, was the most important consequence of the world-wide industrial revolu tion. This moral wound, this cultural shock was even more important than the economic consequences of the Indus trial Revolution. Liberty de pends on a substratum of fixed archetypes, as opposed to the -arbitrary shuffling JANUARY 1963 77 about of laws and institut ions. The distinction holds true whether the shuffling about be done by the a priori abstract rationalism of the eighteenth century or by the even more inhuman and me tallic mass-production of the nineteenth century. Not in the sense o*f any political party (least of all America's Old Guard Re publicans), nor in the sense of intolerant social preju dices, but in the sense of a pessimistic view about per fecting outward social prog ress and in a preference for inner spiritual and cultural tjrowth, in that nonpolitical, nonreactionary sense, the in ner dimension of man tends toward a conservative rather than liberal yiew of human nature. “How can a mere political innovation,” asked Nietzsche, "ever suffice to change men once and for all into happy inhabitants of the earth?” So long as people believe in the perfectibility of out ward society, they will con tinue to use those freedom destroying “bad means” (to talitarianism) that promise “good end.” According to the quickest short-cut to this the perceptive Polish poet and anti-Communist, Czeslaw Milosz, “A gradual disap pearance of the faith in the earthly paradise which just ifies all crimes is an essential preliminary to the destruct ion of totalitarianism.” By rejecting the possibility of an earthly paradise, cultural con servatism rejects all brands of Rousseauistic perfectibility of man, rejecting the a priori utopias not only of Jacob inism and of socialism but also of doctrinaire laissezfaire capitalism. Earth is one of the unin habitable planets. Unlike the habitable ones, Earth is a planet with a built-in cel lar of error, death, decay. If frail children scrawl blue prints of progress on the ceil ing, how will that conjure away the reality of the house, including the ceiling itself, rest on the foundation of that cellar of error, death, decay? Just as our planet is uninha bitable, so our society is in defensible. This is the stub bornly conservative, and un Jeffersonian, truth of the hu man condition. Yet some how we must live. Then is any social betterment possi ble at all? Sustained better78 Panorama ftjent never; fluctuating bet terment often. Gradual, li mited reform can indeed be accomplished, always working within a rooted framework, moving always from particu lar to particular. Such hu mane reforms can be achiev ed and urgently ought to be. We must build what society we can out of what clay we have: the clay of decay, the clay of frailty and constant unpredictable blunder. But the good builder builds with the clay at hand; never does he pile up utopias from some ideal airy clay that does not exist on his particu lar planet. The most blood curdling crimes are done not by criminals but perfection ists. Criminals normally stop killing when they attain their goal: loot. Perfectionists ne ver'stop killing because their goal is never attainable: the ideal society. It is not a question of be ing inhumanely blind to the monstrous faults of the order, ol all old orders. It is simply a matter of learning induct ively the impossibility of any new program too sweeping, any progress long sustained. Only dead chemicals can be sweepingly reorganized, sustainedly prefected; every thing alive is indefensible be cause infinitely precarious. Humanity is willful, wanton, unpredictable. It is not there to be organized for its own good by coercive righteous busybodies. Man is a cease less anti-managerial revolu tion. Whenever enlightened re formers expect the crowd to choose Christ, it cheers for Barabbas. Whenever some Weimar Republic gets rid of some old monarchy, the liber ated crowd turns its republic over to some Hitler. Then what consolation remains for the brute fact that sustained progress is impossible? Sheer self-deception is the hope of overcoming man’s doom by founding a more exact social science. How can there ever be an exact science dealing with man? Science is exact when dealing with predict able chemicals; only art can deal with flesh. There are indeed consolations for man’s precariousness, but they con sist not of trying to end it but of learning to find in it not only the lowest but the highest reaches of the spirit, not only cruel social wrongs but the holy welding-flame of JANUARY 1963 79 the lyric imagination, trans figuring frailty into beauty. This is the Baudelairean truth that the best roses grow from manure. The refusal of society to be a social science, outwardly conditioned, its insistence on remaining an art, inward, spontaneous, unpredictableall these human realities for ever wreck the most scienti fic polls and blue-prints. The Economic Man of Smith and Marx, with his famous. Eco nomic Motives, has never ex isted. You can only achieve the goals of cutward material ism by an inward idealism. You can only make lasting your outward economic gains by inward values that subo.r dinate economic gains to indi vidual freedom. If you base society on the idea of tech niques and economic gains, then you lose not only the freedom but the economic gains. Without spiritual know-why, you lose even your technical know-how. In place of the economic capitalist philosophy of Adam Smith and its parallel, the economic socialist philosophy of Marx the world through trial and error will come to see the economic necessity of an antieconomic philosophy, the ma terial necessity of antimater ialism. Pragmatism is unprag matic; it won’t -work.-The Saturday Review. Freedom of teaching and of opinion in book or press is the foundation for the sound and natural development of any people. The lessons of history — especially the very latest chapters — are all too plain on this score. It is the bounden duty of everyone’to stand with every ounce of energy for the preservation and enhancement of these liberties and to exert all possible influence in keeping public opinion aware of the existing danger. — Albert Einstein. 80 Panorama MISSING PAGE/PAGES