The last time I posted something in this blogsite was more than a month ago. I was too busy finishing my book, and doing some other things. In addition, I just took up a new career as a part-time aerobics instructor in my neighborhood gym. It's something that I have taken up to make my life more exciting. At 48, I want to prove something. I am not just an academic. I am not going to stand by and let the years of my life pass as a routine. I don't want to be bored by what is expected and the usual.
Besides, if Mommy D. a.k.a. Dionesia Pacquiao can dream of becoming a recording star, I told myself that I have every right to become a fitness guru.
That is exactly the point that makes me crazy--when people who have no right come up and claim something that they don't deserve, or have no talent or capacity to become. This is why I decided to teach aerobics, albeit on a part-time basis, as a way of resisting the politics of boldness of these people who simply lay claim to an image just because they can get away with it.
Mommy D. became a celebrity by virtue of Manny P. Without him, she would never be taken seriously. I told myself that my becoming a fitness instructor is someting that I worked hard for, spending time learning the trick, losing pounds by lifting pounds, and spending at least two hours six times a week in the gym. I do not have to rely on the fame and fortune of someone else to make my 151 pounds turn into 137.
If Mommy D. can have the audacity to sing, and be bold enough to even see the products of such as fit to be sold in record bars, then I, in my humble opinion, have more right to lead those who desire to be fit as they sweat it out in the gym. She may have Manny and his money to be used as a fulcrum to make her and others believe her make-believe. I have nothing to offer except my health, both in body and mind, and yes, my authenticity, to my aerobics students.
Mommy D. as singer; Tonton C. as aerobics teacher. The former is a mystery of wealth defying the laws of sanity; the latter is a work of health transcending the challenges of age.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A Tale of Two Universities: A Case of Two Contrasting Everyday Forms of University Politics
In the Philippines, there is tendency for a shorter-term modality for appointing University administrators but with unlimited reappointment to also co-exist with the corporate modality of choosing administrators, thereby further entrenching a very top-down and centralized mode of university governance. On the other hand, a longer but fixed-term modality with limited reappointment has been also associated with universities that have more constituency-driven types of selecting their administrators, thereby further enabling a more participatory and decentralized mode of governance. The first ensures predictability and control by limiting spaces for constituency representation and articulations while the latter privileges voices or representation but also open the floodgates to more open contestations. This is not to say that there are no contestations in the first mode, but such are not expressed more openly, and usually take the form of faceless subversions and behind the back maneuvers in which people anonymously attack colleagues to whom they are actually otherwise cordial in face to face encounters. While open conflicts and contentious narratives may predominate a university with more participatory modes of governance, and thereby give the impression of an overt and visibly destructive politics, everyday forms of resistance—from preponderance of gossips and rumors, a high prevalence of anonymous poison letters, and latent undermining of people—tend to be more pervasive in a university that has more centralized forms of control. This effectively transforms the university into one that possesses a silent yet just differently but may be equally disenabling form of everyday politics. Universities that tend to have more manifest conflict have also provided more spaces for contesting authority and asserting organized and individual resistance. While politics here is less predictable, its architecture of power enable hierarchies to be more responsive since they are easily engaged and confronted by an academic politics that is more openly expressed. On the other hand, those who tend to be more controlled also tend to have more latent conflict, have less spaces for contestations, are more regimented and predictable, even as its everyday forms of academic politics are more insidious and invisible, effectively hiding in the niceness of their façade and the relative regularity of their rituals.
Concrete examples abound to show this. In one university that is noted for its liberal and participatory academic culture, faculty voices are very much openly expressed not only in the selection of administrators, but also in taking them to task and holding them up accountable for their actions. In this culture, open confrontation and direct engagement of concerned parties, whether among colleagues or with superiors, are more frequent, and aggrieved parties are less constrained to personally confront their antagonists and are willing to author or sign their names in a formal complaint or petition. Here, collegial decision making bodies exist at the university and college levels composed of faculty members that enable direct faculty representation not only on academic matters such as curriculum and student graduation, but also in organizational matters. This relatively open space for contestations is enabled by an academic culture that allows the proliferation not only of power centers, but also of individual expression of resistance against such power. This is ensured by a less rigid management regime in which while rules of conduct exist, these are not in fact totally and absolutely enforced, and if so, there is plenty of room for negotiability. Faculty members are allowed greater latitude not only in their academic endeavors, but more importantly in their own personal lives and how they express their own lifestyle preferences. There is less micromanagement of faculty behavior, in terms of strict monitoring of attendance or having dress code requirements. However, the relatively open space for contestations often lead to cases of severe factionalism manifested at all levels, from departments and units, up to the whole university. Some faculty meetings become virtual war zones, with faculty enmity openly expressed. This situation tends to undermine not only the operations of some units, but also even the careers of individual faculty members, some of whom are forced to leave the university for places that do not only offer better working conditions and salary packages, but also less political intramurals.
On the other side is the case of a leading private university in which the academic culture is more corporate, and where faculty representation is more tiered and less open, where the venues by which constituency interests are expressed are enabled only by a cascading hierarchy of Deans and Chairs representing their constituencies in specific bodies at the university and college Levels, This, however, does not fully insure authentic interest representation of the constituents by their Chairs or Deans, considering that the latter are appointed on a one-year term basis, thereby making them vulnerable and prevents them from truly going against top down imperatives. Such role is shifted to the faculty club which operates like a labor union, but takes more an identity of a company union that is still under the control and direction of management. The only direct participation of all faculty members exists at the department level during departmental Meetings. In this university, the constrained space for direct faculty participation is also matched by a relatively regimented academic culture, in which faculty members are monitored not only for their compliance of dress code policies, but also on their classroom attendance.
There is also a controlled atmosphere of contestations, in which dissenting voices tend to be less publicly expressed, thereby giving the impression of a less contentious academic culture. However, this is replaced by a more invisible domain of expressing resistance, seen in what I earlier referred to as the deployment of weapons of the weak, such as gossip and rumor, anonymous attacks, and the presence of informal corridors of power in which influence is exerted by subordinates to bypass their immediate superiors. In this academic culture, faculty members are more predisposed not to directly engage their colleagues with whom they have grievances, but instead go directly to their immediate supervisors, or if the conflict is with their immediate supervisors, they circumvent the line of command and directly go to higher administrative levels, even as they are also not willing to put their names and faces to a formal complaint. There have been many instances in which faculty members, Chairs or Deans are summoned by their immediate supervisors on the strengths of a complaint of an unnamed colleague or subordinate. This modality has the benefit of insulating the faculty ranks from vicious confrontations, but at the same time it also tends to institutionalize a system in which people are bold to talk on others without owning up to the responsibility of standing up for their grievances and accusations. It should be pointed out, however, that there are also faculty members who are much bolder and openly contest and challenge colleagues and superiors. However, one interesting pattern is that the likelihood of this behavior is significantly higher for those faculty members who have experienced teaching in and/or are graduates of the other university cited above.
The architecture of power in a university may also be reinforced by the actual physical spaces within which the campus is designed, particularly its classrooms and faculty offices. There are universities in which the faculty members have the luxury of having their own spaces. On the other hand, there are also those in which limited space only allows faculty cubicles in an otherwise common work space. This spatial configuration may have some implications on everyday politics, as it is easy to associate units with individual offices to a culture that may be prone to a less communitarian atmosphere, in which faculty members have their own private spaces where they can isolate themselves apart from others. In these private spaces, they are relatively insulated from peer gaze, and where, as one faculty member from a university with this type of space allocation pointed out, individual faculty members can easily plot against their colleagues, and where opposing camps can meet secretly to plan how to wage open war with each other.
A more communal working space, on the other hand, may foster a stronger sense of community and civility. Forced to share a workspace with colleagues, faculty members learn to adapt and have a more tolerant attitude towards others, even as the absence of “walls” enable a more shared sense of collective identity. However, common workspaces may also be more restrictive, and may in fact be more disenabling for the exercise of individual freedom, as it is easier to deploy control and regulation and to monitor faculty behavior. This is also seen when classrooms are designed to have glass windows on doors, where it is easier for administrators to monitor the attendance of faculty members. This type of physical architecture where faculty members’ share a common workspace may also foster a false sense of community, in which people are engaged only in superficial forms of camaraderie to maintain an air of civility, but such may not necessarily be sincere and deeply embedded.
In the final analysis, it is a choice between two different architectures of power, one that celebrates the liberating freedom of individuals to engage in an open discourse, or one that offers the security of controlled predictability of a community; a politically contentious and divided place but where you know who your enemies are, or a place with a strong sense of community but where your enemies could easily wear a smile as they plot against you. It is also a choice between a culture wherein contestations are more open but may lead to disenabling conflict that can visibly destabilize the institution, or one in which conflict is pushed to hide below what appears to be a calm institutional façade but may in fact work, like termites, to weaken its foundations. In the end, these are just two different manifestations of everyday university politics.
Concrete examples abound to show this. In one university that is noted for its liberal and participatory academic culture, faculty voices are very much openly expressed not only in the selection of administrators, but also in taking them to task and holding them up accountable for their actions. In this culture, open confrontation and direct engagement of concerned parties, whether among colleagues or with superiors, are more frequent, and aggrieved parties are less constrained to personally confront their antagonists and are willing to author or sign their names in a formal complaint or petition. Here, collegial decision making bodies exist at the university and college levels composed of faculty members that enable direct faculty representation not only on academic matters such as curriculum and student graduation, but also in organizational matters. This relatively open space for contestations is enabled by an academic culture that allows the proliferation not only of power centers, but also of individual expression of resistance against such power. This is ensured by a less rigid management regime in which while rules of conduct exist, these are not in fact totally and absolutely enforced, and if so, there is plenty of room for negotiability. Faculty members are allowed greater latitude not only in their academic endeavors, but more importantly in their own personal lives and how they express their own lifestyle preferences. There is less micromanagement of faculty behavior, in terms of strict monitoring of attendance or having dress code requirements. However, the relatively open space for contestations often lead to cases of severe factionalism manifested at all levels, from departments and units, up to the whole university. Some faculty meetings become virtual war zones, with faculty enmity openly expressed. This situation tends to undermine not only the operations of some units, but also even the careers of individual faculty members, some of whom are forced to leave the university for places that do not only offer better working conditions and salary packages, but also less political intramurals.
On the other side is the case of a leading private university in which the academic culture is more corporate, and where faculty representation is more tiered and less open, where the venues by which constituency interests are expressed are enabled only by a cascading hierarchy of Deans and Chairs representing their constituencies in specific bodies at the university and college Levels, This, however, does not fully insure authentic interest representation of the constituents by their Chairs or Deans, considering that the latter are appointed on a one-year term basis, thereby making them vulnerable and prevents them from truly going against top down imperatives. Such role is shifted to the faculty club which operates like a labor union, but takes more an identity of a company union that is still under the control and direction of management. The only direct participation of all faculty members exists at the department level during departmental Meetings. In this university, the constrained space for direct faculty participation is also matched by a relatively regimented academic culture, in which faculty members are monitored not only for their compliance of dress code policies, but also on their classroom attendance.
There is also a controlled atmosphere of contestations, in which dissenting voices tend to be less publicly expressed, thereby giving the impression of a less contentious academic culture. However, this is replaced by a more invisible domain of expressing resistance, seen in what I earlier referred to as the deployment of weapons of the weak, such as gossip and rumor, anonymous attacks, and the presence of informal corridors of power in which influence is exerted by subordinates to bypass their immediate superiors. In this academic culture, faculty members are more predisposed not to directly engage their colleagues with whom they have grievances, but instead go directly to their immediate supervisors, or if the conflict is with their immediate supervisors, they circumvent the line of command and directly go to higher administrative levels, even as they are also not willing to put their names and faces to a formal complaint. There have been many instances in which faculty members, Chairs or Deans are summoned by their immediate supervisors on the strengths of a complaint of an unnamed colleague or subordinate. This modality has the benefit of insulating the faculty ranks from vicious confrontations, but at the same time it also tends to institutionalize a system in which people are bold to talk on others without owning up to the responsibility of standing up for their grievances and accusations. It should be pointed out, however, that there are also faculty members who are much bolder and openly contest and challenge colleagues and superiors. However, one interesting pattern is that the likelihood of this behavior is significantly higher for those faculty members who have experienced teaching in and/or are graduates of the other university cited above.
The architecture of power in a university may also be reinforced by the actual physical spaces within which the campus is designed, particularly its classrooms and faculty offices. There are universities in which the faculty members have the luxury of having their own spaces. On the other hand, there are also those in which limited space only allows faculty cubicles in an otherwise common work space. This spatial configuration may have some implications on everyday politics, as it is easy to associate units with individual offices to a culture that may be prone to a less communitarian atmosphere, in which faculty members have their own private spaces where they can isolate themselves apart from others. In these private spaces, they are relatively insulated from peer gaze, and where, as one faculty member from a university with this type of space allocation pointed out, individual faculty members can easily plot against their colleagues, and where opposing camps can meet secretly to plan how to wage open war with each other.
A more communal working space, on the other hand, may foster a stronger sense of community and civility. Forced to share a workspace with colleagues, faculty members learn to adapt and have a more tolerant attitude towards others, even as the absence of “walls” enable a more shared sense of collective identity. However, common workspaces may also be more restrictive, and may in fact be more disenabling for the exercise of individual freedom, as it is easier to deploy control and regulation and to monitor faculty behavior. This is also seen when classrooms are designed to have glass windows on doors, where it is easier for administrators to monitor the attendance of faculty members. This type of physical architecture where faculty members’ share a common workspace may also foster a false sense of community, in which people are engaged only in superficial forms of camaraderie to maintain an air of civility, but such may not necessarily be sincere and deeply embedded.
In the final analysis, it is a choice between two different architectures of power, one that celebrates the liberating freedom of individuals to engage in an open discourse, or one that offers the security of controlled predictability of a community; a politically contentious and divided place but where you know who your enemies are, or a place with a strong sense of community but where your enemies could easily wear a smile as they plot against you. It is also a choice between a culture wherein contestations are more open but may lead to disenabling conflict that can visibly destabilize the institution, or one in which conflict is pushed to hide below what appears to be a calm institutional façade but may in fact work, like termites, to weaken its foundations. In the end, these are just two different manifestations of everyday university politics.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Writing about the ordinary and everyday as epiphany and political redemption
I started this book by making reference to my ordinary and everyday journeys, not only in physical terms as I travel a distance from my home to the university where I teach, but as an existential expedition into a constrained space for finding academic and scholarly meaning. While the theoretical and conceptual challenges may have appeared insurmountable, I derive pleasure in being able to craft my own narrative that on its own has become not just a scholarly endeavor, but has also acquired a form that is also personally and deeply political. The materials that I used in stitching what may appear to some as diverse bodies of texts are all based on my personal encounters, either as actual physical experiences, or as virtual immersions.
Being a TV fan, I considered media spaces as a natural home from where I can launch my inquiries. In the end, not only that I was able to draw empirical data from my sources, I was also able to establish kinship with my respondents, from TV journalists to celebrities to reality game show contestants. It is also in writing this book that I became a netizen. In my attempt to enter the world of cyberspace as merely a methodological strategy from where to craft my inquiries, I eventually became an active participant in the online discussions in Pinoyexchange as a “PEXer,” an avid member of the Facebook community, and a blogger managing my own site.
The human body also became a space of interest to me, being someone who has been mystified by the centrality of the body in our discourses, even as we try harder to cover and hide it. It is here where I was able to engage the pleasures of having my body re-worked in a gym and rejuvenated by alternative medicine that started just as efforts to put some methodological rigor and adopt participant observation techniques in my research to ensure a more immersed form of inquiry, but has become rituals that I have come to associate with a lifestyle that made my body sexy and healthy not only for my private satisfaction, but for the pleasure of being the object of public admiration. While I could be accused of succumbing to the power of the dominant body narratives, this made me realize the complexity of human choices that could not simply be limited to submission and defiance, that one can still be empowered by refusing to be beholden to this simplistic dichotomy. It made me realize that repression is not just about submitting to dominant narratives, but also comes when you un-problematically submit to constructs that fix your position as one that is supposed to be repressed. It is also in this regard that while my inquiry into the public narratives of the body enabled me to learn about the private pains of commercial sex workers, it also unsettled what I thought was a stable ground for my theorizing that fixed the identity of prostituted women as always disempowered and without choices. That single encounter with a sexual worker in Calamba City has seriously confronted my own academic biases and has motivated me to think outside the box of theoretical politics drawn from long years of having feminists as friends, into a more nuanced appreciation of how different, and how powerful and theoretically sophisticated the ordinary reflections from marginalized identities and objectified bodies are.
The university is an easy place for me to inquire into. It is my natural roaming ground. It is also where I encountered most of my pains, even as it is also a place where I asserted my own political identity. The inspiration that led me to write this book is in fact drawn less from my theoretical readings of the French cultural theorists, or of Foucault. While they provided the templates from where I crafted my narratives, as they also provided me what may have appeared as my ideological framework for engaging my own political projects, what actually inspired me more to write this book was how I experienced institutionalized disempowerment in a university setting, and was further cemented when I still felt this even at a time when I already occupied a position of administrative leadership. It really made me realize how fluid, and how contentious ordinary and everyday power relations are, how inadequate the meta-narratives of the dead white men of political theory could be, and how limited our dominant tools of political inquiry have become.
Writing a book about the politics of ordinary and everyday experiences may be too theoretically avant garde, and I may court accusations of lacking performativity, or usefulness. This may be the “truth” for others, but it is far from my own truth. This book has an extremely performative value, not only as it was able to exorcise my personal pains, but more importantly, it is a concrete step in providing a compelling story to tell against the dominance of statist political science. It is my own stake in a discipline to which I migrated from a totally different field in the natural sciences, but within which I also found myself lost. This book is a narrative of how I recovered my own ground.
This book touched on the logic of cultural production as a domain of contestations, and posited that the dynamics by which these are institutionalized through our narratives is a complex game of those who assert their power to dominate and those who challenge them by engaging in a complex array of acts of resistance, from open contestations to the deployment of hidden and everyday weapons of the weak. This book is at the heart of this dynamics. I showed that a book could also be a narrative of resistance, in as much as it can also be a political project. This book is an artifact invested in how I assert my own performativity, narratives and templates as my way of speaking loudly to the power or truth and desire, as a body of knowledge the production of which has brought me much pleasure. It is also a vehicle by which I was able to recuperate the authenticity of my political identity, even as I proposed modalities by which others can recuperate theirs. Finally, its redemptive power lies in how I was able to build its politics around a sense of community with those whom I am writing it for, the ordinary peoples as they negotiate the challenges of their everyday lives, even if I must share the guilt of having presented this in a form which many of them may not be able to access or understand.
The most political moment, however, is when the validation of this book will rest on those whose flaws and imperfections it may have implicated in its texts. I may have to admit that some of the most biting critiques I have launched were directed at those practices which “had” us, and will continue to “have” us. One of the most enlightening epiphany of reflexive scholarship, experienced both in writing and reading texts, is when one realizes that much as we want to search for the enemy in the spaces, narratives and bodies of others, that in fact it lies deeply embodied in our own spaces, narratives and bodies. Realizing such is, however, the moment when redemption begins, and proceeds further as we also discover that our liberation rests not on the permission of others, or on account of the meta-narratives found in the grand ideologies, methodologies and canons of our disciplines, but on the power of our own local, ordinary and everyday small stories, and of those stories that are told about us. This is the whole point of this book. It makes our politics personal, and places our liberation in our own hands. It is about the political that lies in the ordinary and the everyday, not in unfamiliar spaces where narratives of domination and resistance emerge and are contested by others, but in familiar grounds, found here, now, in us.
Being a TV fan, I considered media spaces as a natural home from where I can launch my inquiries. In the end, not only that I was able to draw empirical data from my sources, I was also able to establish kinship with my respondents, from TV journalists to celebrities to reality game show contestants. It is also in writing this book that I became a netizen. In my attempt to enter the world of cyberspace as merely a methodological strategy from where to craft my inquiries, I eventually became an active participant in the online discussions in Pinoyexchange as a “PEXer,” an avid member of the Facebook community, and a blogger managing my own site.
The human body also became a space of interest to me, being someone who has been mystified by the centrality of the body in our discourses, even as we try harder to cover and hide it. It is here where I was able to engage the pleasures of having my body re-worked in a gym and rejuvenated by alternative medicine that started just as efforts to put some methodological rigor and adopt participant observation techniques in my research to ensure a more immersed form of inquiry, but has become rituals that I have come to associate with a lifestyle that made my body sexy and healthy not only for my private satisfaction, but for the pleasure of being the object of public admiration. While I could be accused of succumbing to the power of the dominant body narratives, this made me realize the complexity of human choices that could not simply be limited to submission and defiance, that one can still be empowered by refusing to be beholden to this simplistic dichotomy. It made me realize that repression is not just about submitting to dominant narratives, but also comes when you un-problematically submit to constructs that fix your position as one that is supposed to be repressed. It is also in this regard that while my inquiry into the public narratives of the body enabled me to learn about the private pains of commercial sex workers, it also unsettled what I thought was a stable ground for my theorizing that fixed the identity of prostituted women as always disempowered and without choices. That single encounter with a sexual worker in Calamba City has seriously confronted my own academic biases and has motivated me to think outside the box of theoretical politics drawn from long years of having feminists as friends, into a more nuanced appreciation of how different, and how powerful and theoretically sophisticated the ordinary reflections from marginalized identities and objectified bodies are.
The university is an easy place for me to inquire into. It is my natural roaming ground. It is also where I encountered most of my pains, even as it is also a place where I asserted my own political identity. The inspiration that led me to write this book is in fact drawn less from my theoretical readings of the French cultural theorists, or of Foucault. While they provided the templates from where I crafted my narratives, as they also provided me what may have appeared as my ideological framework for engaging my own political projects, what actually inspired me more to write this book was how I experienced institutionalized disempowerment in a university setting, and was further cemented when I still felt this even at a time when I already occupied a position of administrative leadership. It really made me realize how fluid, and how contentious ordinary and everyday power relations are, how inadequate the meta-narratives of the dead white men of political theory could be, and how limited our dominant tools of political inquiry have become.
Writing a book about the politics of ordinary and everyday experiences may be too theoretically avant garde, and I may court accusations of lacking performativity, or usefulness. This may be the “truth” for others, but it is far from my own truth. This book has an extremely performative value, not only as it was able to exorcise my personal pains, but more importantly, it is a concrete step in providing a compelling story to tell against the dominance of statist political science. It is my own stake in a discipline to which I migrated from a totally different field in the natural sciences, but within which I also found myself lost. This book is a narrative of how I recovered my own ground.
This book touched on the logic of cultural production as a domain of contestations, and posited that the dynamics by which these are institutionalized through our narratives is a complex game of those who assert their power to dominate and those who challenge them by engaging in a complex array of acts of resistance, from open contestations to the deployment of hidden and everyday weapons of the weak. This book is at the heart of this dynamics. I showed that a book could also be a narrative of resistance, in as much as it can also be a political project. This book is an artifact invested in how I assert my own performativity, narratives and templates as my way of speaking loudly to the power or truth and desire, as a body of knowledge the production of which has brought me much pleasure. It is also a vehicle by which I was able to recuperate the authenticity of my political identity, even as I proposed modalities by which others can recuperate theirs. Finally, its redemptive power lies in how I was able to build its politics around a sense of community with those whom I am writing it for, the ordinary peoples as they negotiate the challenges of their everyday lives, even if I must share the guilt of having presented this in a form which many of them may not be able to access or understand.
The most political moment, however, is when the validation of this book will rest on those whose flaws and imperfections it may have implicated in its texts. I may have to admit that some of the most biting critiques I have launched were directed at those practices which “had” us, and will continue to “have” us. One of the most enlightening epiphany of reflexive scholarship, experienced both in writing and reading texts, is when one realizes that much as we want to search for the enemy in the spaces, narratives and bodies of others, that in fact it lies deeply embodied in our own spaces, narratives and bodies. Realizing such is, however, the moment when redemption begins, and proceeds further as we also discover that our liberation rests not on the permission of others, or on account of the meta-narratives found in the grand ideologies, methodologies and canons of our disciplines, but on the power of our own local, ordinary and everyday small stories, and of those stories that are told about us. This is the whole point of this book. It makes our politics personal, and places our liberation in our own hands. It is about the political that lies in the ordinary and the everyday, not in unfamiliar spaces where narratives of domination and resistance emerge and are contested by others, but in familiar grounds, found here, now, in us.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Alternative Healing, Jolina, Kiko and Bebe Gandanghari
It is evident that the option for healthy and sexy bodies, from enrolling in the gym, to buying diet pills and whitening creams, or getting a liposuction, or patronizing the new generation of food supplements and health drinks, is a luxury which is available only for those who can afford. However, it is also true that if one looks at the bodies of those who work on manual labor, the farmers, mechanics, stevedores, and baggage handlers, we can see toned and muscular bodies matched with flat abs and bulging biceps and triceps. For them, there is probably no need to go to the gym and spend time on the treadmill or in lifting weights, considering that their everyday working lives is already one big gym. They also would probably don’t have to diet, considering that their meager income could only afford them to have simple and low calorie meals, perhaps even too low to a point that many of them end up critically malnourished. This is why while they may have the external appearance of having “bodies to die for,” it is their health that are seriously at risk. This is their tragedy, one that is caused by the lethal articulation between an increasingly toxic environment brought about by natural and anthropogenic alterations of our planet, and an increasingly expensive cost of Western medical health care, coupled with the deployment of unhealthy Western lifestyles, from fast and junk foods to unhealthy vices.
However, relying on Western medical interventions may not even be providing us a cure to the ailments of modernity. Aside from their prohibitive costs, there is also an increasing discomfort with the ferocity by which new drugs and other chemical-based medical interventions are now being pushed by pharmaceutical companies and the medical practitioners who subscribe to them. It is in this domain that the flaws of Western medicine is confronted and engaged by the emergence of alternative medicine which is more herbal, organic and oriental, and in some cases, may be more affordable. The popularity of traditional Chinese medicine, for example, has reappeared even in modern cities like Manila. These herbal-based medical practices that consider disease less of a chemical malfunctioning of the body and more as a result of an internal imbalance within, offer an interesting counter-narrative to the more intrusive, chemical-dependent, and expensive Western medical practices.
On a different note, and based from my own personal encounter with this alternative form of healing, the delivery of treatment and care takes on a different spatial configuration compared to a Western medical facility like a clinic or a hospital. The Chinese doctor I regularly visit in Chinatown is both a doctor and a source of humor, and the space where he works is not just a clinic but an inclusive community. While Western clinical practice subsists on the privacy of doctor-patient encounters, and its associated confidentiality of diagnosis, the clinic in Chinatown offers a public viewing of such encounter. The room where the doctor works is a small one, and his diagnoses of his patients, made in broken Tagalog, are orally delivered not as a confidential reading of what is wrong with the internal balance of the body of the patient, but as a recitation within the hearing distance of those in the room at the time. While those reared in Western medical practice may frown on this as highly unprofessional, it has demystifying effects, even as it makes the whole process a participatory and inclusive exercise of a group in community with each other. Those who know how to speak Chinese in the room automatically become translators both to the Doctor and to the patient; old-timers help those who are new in explaining not only the rules in the clinic, but also provide their testimonials to clear up doubts, or simply to give advise; people who are first in line help facilitate the queue. These are rituals of community that may not necessarily heal the sick, but are definitely composite of a social capital that is enabled as a group of people negotiate the space through which they seek their own healing.
This alternative form of healing, in addition to other indigenous ways, which include the native Filipino art of healing, confronts a dominant narrative in which the focus on the body, its appearance and vitality, is now in the context no longer just of capitalist production, but also of consumption and pleasure in a political economy of images, in which the body becomes now a commodity to be bought and “consumed”, and not just a resource for capitalist production. In this domain, a dominant narrative specifies not only the “look” and the “body” that is to be desired but also how these can be achieved. There is a deployment of dominant templates not only for fashion and diet, but also even on internal wellness and external appearances. These are then institutionalized in a complex array of discourses and narratives that are produced in society through the operation of certain kinds of truth and knowledge as embodied in templates as diverse as fashion rules, appearance norms, and appropriate lifestyles drawing their logic from professions like Western medicine and effectively deployed by efficient marketing.
However, there are those who refuse to go with the flow, as they create their own embodiments. Jolina Magdangal, a movie personality, is well known for creating her own sense of unconventional fashion which transgressed the established norms of color combinations and accessory matching to the consternation of established fashion gurus. In fact, the word “jologs” which refer to crass and of the hoi polloi was coined based on her name. Nevertheless, Jolina was able to impose her sense of alternative fashion to a point that she is now considered a fashion icon herself. Raymund Francis Rustia is a walking conversation piece with his dreadlocks and elaborate adornments that is uncharacteristically out of the ordinary. His appearance in the first season of “Survivor Philippines,” particularly his ethical playing of the game catapulted him to fame. Kiko, as he is popularly called, transgressed the norm provided by society, and instead of ending up being called weird, now appears in mainstream TV as host to an environmentally-oriented show in one of the TV networks. Bebe Gandanghari is another person who breached the norms provided by society with regards to the human body. Formerly a male matinee idol in the name of Rustom Padilla, he came out and admitted his true sexual orientation in one of the most explosive moment of the reality game show “Pinoy Big Brother,” went abroad, and came back totally transformed into a woman figure. Far from being considered a “freak”, Bebe is now accepted less as an anomaly, and more as a transformed body that carry a sense of personal power by deploying a kind of truth that may not be comfortable to the established norms, but nevertheless speaks loudly as a physical counter-narrative to the constrained identities that imprison those who remain in their closets.
Jolina, Kiko and Bebe, as celebrities with bodies who transgressed social forms of control provided powerful images that find meaning among a citizenry that derive their templates from popular culture. Their transgressions offered a counter-narrative to the dominant images that are displayed in the same venues where they exist—the showbiz media, TV and the entertainment industry. In their iconic presence, they are just three of the many more who are not celebrity figures, but who in their ordinary ways have tried to transgress, resist, and confront the disempowering politics by which their bodies are expected to conform to the ideal shape, size and configuration as dictated by the dominant political economy that images the body not only as a project to be produced but also as a resource to be consumed.
However, relying on Western medical interventions may not even be providing us a cure to the ailments of modernity. Aside from their prohibitive costs, there is also an increasing discomfort with the ferocity by which new drugs and other chemical-based medical interventions are now being pushed by pharmaceutical companies and the medical practitioners who subscribe to them. It is in this domain that the flaws of Western medicine is confronted and engaged by the emergence of alternative medicine which is more herbal, organic and oriental, and in some cases, may be more affordable. The popularity of traditional Chinese medicine, for example, has reappeared even in modern cities like Manila. These herbal-based medical practices that consider disease less of a chemical malfunctioning of the body and more as a result of an internal imbalance within, offer an interesting counter-narrative to the more intrusive, chemical-dependent, and expensive Western medical practices.
On a different note, and based from my own personal encounter with this alternative form of healing, the delivery of treatment and care takes on a different spatial configuration compared to a Western medical facility like a clinic or a hospital. The Chinese doctor I regularly visit in Chinatown is both a doctor and a source of humor, and the space where he works is not just a clinic but an inclusive community. While Western clinical practice subsists on the privacy of doctor-patient encounters, and its associated confidentiality of diagnosis, the clinic in Chinatown offers a public viewing of such encounter. The room where the doctor works is a small one, and his diagnoses of his patients, made in broken Tagalog, are orally delivered not as a confidential reading of what is wrong with the internal balance of the body of the patient, but as a recitation within the hearing distance of those in the room at the time. While those reared in Western medical practice may frown on this as highly unprofessional, it has demystifying effects, even as it makes the whole process a participatory and inclusive exercise of a group in community with each other. Those who know how to speak Chinese in the room automatically become translators both to the Doctor and to the patient; old-timers help those who are new in explaining not only the rules in the clinic, but also provide their testimonials to clear up doubts, or simply to give advise; people who are first in line help facilitate the queue. These are rituals of community that may not necessarily heal the sick, but are definitely composite of a social capital that is enabled as a group of people negotiate the space through which they seek their own healing.
This alternative form of healing, in addition to other indigenous ways, which include the native Filipino art of healing, confronts a dominant narrative in which the focus on the body, its appearance and vitality, is now in the context no longer just of capitalist production, but also of consumption and pleasure in a political economy of images, in which the body becomes now a commodity to be bought and “consumed”, and not just a resource for capitalist production. In this domain, a dominant narrative specifies not only the “look” and the “body” that is to be desired but also how these can be achieved. There is a deployment of dominant templates not only for fashion and diet, but also even on internal wellness and external appearances. These are then institutionalized in a complex array of discourses and narratives that are produced in society through the operation of certain kinds of truth and knowledge as embodied in templates as diverse as fashion rules, appearance norms, and appropriate lifestyles drawing their logic from professions like Western medicine and effectively deployed by efficient marketing.
However, there are those who refuse to go with the flow, as they create their own embodiments. Jolina Magdangal, a movie personality, is well known for creating her own sense of unconventional fashion which transgressed the established norms of color combinations and accessory matching to the consternation of established fashion gurus. In fact, the word “jologs” which refer to crass and of the hoi polloi was coined based on her name. Nevertheless, Jolina was able to impose her sense of alternative fashion to a point that she is now considered a fashion icon herself. Raymund Francis Rustia is a walking conversation piece with his dreadlocks and elaborate adornments that is uncharacteristically out of the ordinary. His appearance in the first season of “Survivor Philippines,” particularly his ethical playing of the game catapulted him to fame. Kiko, as he is popularly called, transgressed the norm provided by society, and instead of ending up being called weird, now appears in mainstream TV as host to an environmentally-oriented show in one of the TV networks. Bebe Gandanghari is another person who breached the norms provided by society with regards to the human body. Formerly a male matinee idol in the name of Rustom Padilla, he came out and admitted his true sexual orientation in one of the most explosive moment of the reality game show “Pinoy Big Brother,” went abroad, and came back totally transformed into a woman figure. Far from being considered a “freak”, Bebe is now accepted less as an anomaly, and more as a transformed body that carry a sense of personal power by deploying a kind of truth that may not be comfortable to the established norms, but nevertheless speaks loudly as a physical counter-narrative to the constrained identities that imprison those who remain in their closets.
Jolina, Kiko and Bebe, as celebrities with bodies who transgressed social forms of control provided powerful images that find meaning among a citizenry that derive their templates from popular culture. Their transgressions offered a counter-narrative to the dominant images that are displayed in the same venues where they exist—the showbiz media, TV and the entertainment industry. In their iconic presence, they are just three of the many more who are not celebrity figures, but who in their ordinary ways have tried to transgress, resist, and confront the disempowering politics by which their bodies are expected to conform to the ideal shape, size and configuration as dictated by the dominant political economy that images the body not only as a project to be produced but also as a resource to be consumed.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Gym Politics
One of the epicenters of the modern body as a project to be reformed and reconstructed is the gym. While barber shops and beauty salons have earlier become places where looks are changed, they are merely alterations of external body appendages like hair and nails, of which changes may create an illusion of a different look. However, it is in the gym where the body becomes an object of a more radical alteration without surgical operation, in which muscles are pumped to make them bigger, or toned to make them firmer and tighter. The modern gym is no longer a place where the young, mostly men, learn the rudiments of masculinity as they study and engage in physical exercise in their naked glory. In fact, the word “gymnasium” is rooted in Greek, where it originally meant as a place where one can be naked. It is now a place where they celebrate the body as an architectural work for both masculinity and femininity, with gyms now catering to both men and women, straight and gay.
A day in the modern gym is like paying homage to vanity manifested in body flaunting by those who have the perfect physique, and of body envy by those who are trying to acquire such perfect physique. The gym is turned into a place for another kind of learning no longer conducted by master teachers in the Greek tradition on young men as they learn not only the rewards of truth and knowledge but also the pleasures of desire. The modern gym becomes a place where you come in with a sense of inadequacy and an urge to overcome it by learning from the templates that you see in the images created in the media about the perfect butt and the washboard abs, and as re-presented in the bodies that you see parading right before your very eyes. The gym is almost like a sorting place of images of people coming in as veterans, as showed by the badges embodied in their biceps, triceps and deltoids, and as neophytes seen in people with fat bellies, or undeveloped muscles, people who look nerdish, the geeks and the dorks. The latter undertakes the rituals of bench pressing, crunching and lifting, and has to endure both initial shame and lots of pain, looking forward to the day that their hats as beginners will be replaced by the crowning glory of buffed bodies ready to be exhibited to the new batch of nerds, geeks and dorks. The gym, in this regard, becomes a space for an institutionalized fraternity of sorts, with neophytes and masters interacting in the context of a symbolic brotherhood based on sweat and muscles.
In the Greek tradition, the gym is a place where truth and knowledge articulate with pleasure and desire. In its modern incarnation, such truth is no longer residing in the wisdom of philosophy and the arts, but in the simulated images of a body which modern capitalism has produced as commodity to be sold in the media, through the images of half-naked models and actors parading their physiques to create a demand for these, and then reproduced in the body rituals which the gym now offers to its clients for a fee. Thus, the media images of a perfect body is a commodity consumed by those who desire to have it, even as a sculpted body comes out of gyms and other fitness establishments as a reproduction of such images, where they now join the array of representations that further reproduce the commodified perfect body to the eyes of those who feel inadequate about theirs. While there may be no words that attend the sculpted, reformed and remade body, in that it is pure image, its physicality becomes an embodiment of a silent yet potent narrative about the power of a new political economy of human appearances. The desire for a god-like body and the pleasures for having it become a powerful driver of this narrative.
It is easy to associate the politics of the gym with male domination, considering the relatively stronger presence of the male image compared to the female one. In fact, in most gyms and fitness centers, aerobic dancing sessions, which many consider as feminine, are more patronized by women, even as the weight training sessions are very much male-dominated. However, the creeping presence of vanity-induced consumerism, and the simulacra of ideal appearances now deploying not only images of women as reality, but the reality of male beauty as image, have infected even men to create a demand among them not only for aerobics lessons, but even for beauty enhancement treatments. This led to some gyms establishing saunas, spas and salons in their own premises, even as men’s consumption of these services in places other than the gym has increased. However, a more political form of resistance, which De Certeau (1984) have theorized about, that tend to undermine the dominant masculinity prevailing in a typical gym was the preponderance of gay bath houses presenting themselves as fitness centers cum gyms, mainly starting in US cities such as San Francisco and New York but has since spread to other gay-dominated sectors of major cities in the world. In these places, the overall strategies associated with straight body envy and the rituals of heterosexual physicality found in gyms are subverted by a gay sub-culture that effectively deployed tactics that converted these spaces into places where gay men express their lifestyles. Exclusive gay bath houses are now already present in Manila, even as anecdotal evidence suggests that a gay sub-culture here is silently trangressing and implanting itself in the shower and steam rooms even in mainstream gyms and fitness centers. In the end, the gym which used to be a haven for straight male power, have in fact become a potent cruising venue, if not a playground for gays in search of pleasure as they consummate the truth of their own sexualities.
I remember a comment I heard once which said that the single place with the highest density of gays, next to a beauty salon, is the gym. This is not to be taken as an insult, but as a celebration of a successful form of gay politics.
A day in the modern gym is like paying homage to vanity manifested in body flaunting by those who have the perfect physique, and of body envy by those who are trying to acquire such perfect physique. The gym is turned into a place for another kind of learning no longer conducted by master teachers in the Greek tradition on young men as they learn not only the rewards of truth and knowledge but also the pleasures of desire. The modern gym becomes a place where you come in with a sense of inadequacy and an urge to overcome it by learning from the templates that you see in the images created in the media about the perfect butt and the washboard abs, and as re-presented in the bodies that you see parading right before your very eyes. The gym is almost like a sorting place of images of people coming in as veterans, as showed by the badges embodied in their biceps, triceps and deltoids, and as neophytes seen in people with fat bellies, or undeveloped muscles, people who look nerdish, the geeks and the dorks. The latter undertakes the rituals of bench pressing, crunching and lifting, and has to endure both initial shame and lots of pain, looking forward to the day that their hats as beginners will be replaced by the crowning glory of buffed bodies ready to be exhibited to the new batch of nerds, geeks and dorks. The gym, in this regard, becomes a space for an institutionalized fraternity of sorts, with neophytes and masters interacting in the context of a symbolic brotherhood based on sweat and muscles.
In the Greek tradition, the gym is a place where truth and knowledge articulate with pleasure and desire. In its modern incarnation, such truth is no longer residing in the wisdom of philosophy and the arts, but in the simulated images of a body which modern capitalism has produced as commodity to be sold in the media, through the images of half-naked models and actors parading their physiques to create a demand for these, and then reproduced in the body rituals which the gym now offers to its clients for a fee. Thus, the media images of a perfect body is a commodity consumed by those who desire to have it, even as a sculpted body comes out of gyms and other fitness establishments as a reproduction of such images, where they now join the array of representations that further reproduce the commodified perfect body to the eyes of those who feel inadequate about theirs. While there may be no words that attend the sculpted, reformed and remade body, in that it is pure image, its physicality becomes an embodiment of a silent yet potent narrative about the power of a new political economy of human appearances. The desire for a god-like body and the pleasures for having it become a powerful driver of this narrative.
It is easy to associate the politics of the gym with male domination, considering the relatively stronger presence of the male image compared to the female one. In fact, in most gyms and fitness centers, aerobic dancing sessions, which many consider as feminine, are more patronized by women, even as the weight training sessions are very much male-dominated. However, the creeping presence of vanity-induced consumerism, and the simulacra of ideal appearances now deploying not only images of women as reality, but the reality of male beauty as image, have infected even men to create a demand among them not only for aerobics lessons, but even for beauty enhancement treatments. This led to some gyms establishing saunas, spas and salons in their own premises, even as men’s consumption of these services in places other than the gym has increased. However, a more political form of resistance, which De Certeau (1984) have theorized about, that tend to undermine the dominant masculinity prevailing in a typical gym was the preponderance of gay bath houses presenting themselves as fitness centers cum gyms, mainly starting in US cities such as San Francisco and New York but has since spread to other gay-dominated sectors of major cities in the world. In these places, the overall strategies associated with straight body envy and the rituals of heterosexual physicality found in gyms are subverted by a gay sub-culture that effectively deployed tactics that converted these spaces into places where gay men express their lifestyles. Exclusive gay bath houses are now already present in Manila, even as anecdotal evidence suggests that a gay sub-culture here is silently trangressing and implanting itself in the shower and steam rooms even in mainstream gyms and fitness centers. In the end, the gym which used to be a haven for straight male power, have in fact become a potent cruising venue, if not a playground for gays in search of pleasure as they consummate the truth of their own sexualities.
I remember a comment I heard once which said that the single place with the highest density of gays, next to a beauty salon, is the gym. This is not to be taken as an insult, but as a celebration of a successful form of gay politics.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Politics as a Party
Now that elections are less than eight months away, I am tempted to again ready my party shoes, my pop corn, and my drinks and be prepared for one big party event.
There is one thing that Filipinos are noted for—it is our talent to entertain. Our fiestas are much awaited not only for the food we serve, but also for the dances and songs that we perform. Other people, including even Americans, which are perceived to be natural party animals, are amazed at the way we Filipinos are able to orchestrate the transformation of a seemingly dull moment to an explosion of fun, food, and frolic, not to mention booze. To us, however, this is our natural. After all, we are the same people who converted EDSA I into a big party, a grand political festival, where we easily transformed a tense conflict situation into a venue for community gathering and celebration.
It is in this context, therefore, that we should not be surprised if Filipinos see a “political party” not as the boring institution of loyalty, ideology, and platforms that textbooks in political science depict. Instead, it is seen as a “party”—a fun-filled political event, where anyone can dance with abandon in a political game where the norms are not the principles that one have but the camaraderie and personalities that one can enjoy.
We are indeed natural party animals. We have deconstructed a technical political term and turned it on its head to reveal another meaning. This is the only explanation I can think of, if only to make sense of this explosion of political partying by many of our politicians. Indeed, they turn politics into a party, where the talk is not about issues but about appearances; where the spoiler is the one serious and boring, and the star is the one who comes with a glittering dress or a perfumed look or a plastic smile talking an empty talk. There, the likes of Winnie Monsod become a spoiler while Miriam Santiago is party queen.
Politics became a party in past elections, when someone like Eddie Gil appeared as a serious option for citizens who have lost their faith in the electoral process. Politics became a party when a candidate like the late Raul Roco, who had the reputation for explosive temper, suddenly turned into a flower lover, later joined by Lito Atienza. Politics became a party when Ping Lacson, allegedly feared for reasons only Mon Tulfo knows, began to smile, and even shed tears on camera, although lately he has caused Erap Estrada, his erstwhile friend, to frown a lot.
Politics become a party when being a simple newsreader, as Noli de Castro was and still is, considered as equivalent to good public service; or when cute people like Pia Cayetano suddenly came out of nowhere to claim the senate seat of her late father, as if it is an inheritance. Politics became a party when Brother Eddie descends into the arena like a messiah, allegedly sent by God, and joyfully announced by an MTV VJ in the person of Donita Rose herself. Politics became a party when Jamby, Lito and Bong became Senators of the Republic.
Politics became a party when former enemies Miriam and Gloria became friends, and when Imee and Bongbong have only good things to say about Noynoy, for indeed parties are occasions when rivals kiss and make up, even if only for show. Of course, the greatest party of all explodes in its most feverish frenzy when Gloria threw a big one in New York, raking up bills that could rival the ones made by the greatest party animal of them all—Imelda Marcos, whose reinvention of herself through the power of popular culture is a rare political feat, to a point that the CCP has even honored her.
This is how we practice politics—as a party. In this party scene, rules of the game designed by the great minds in political science are thrown out. In fact, we Filipinos have created our own categories that go beyond the imagination of any bookish political science major. The absence of strong political parties, and here I refer to groups that aggregate political interests and compete during elections, is not the only peculiar contribution we have to the annals of political theory. We should be reminded that we are the only country where Senators from the opposition parties (again, I refer to the political group) become chairpersons of committees.
However, and lest we become cocky and declare our uniqueness as our monopoly, let us be humbled by the fact that there are other countries where political parties (again, I refer to the group) are as weak as ours. There are also countries where politicians easily change their political parties (again, I refer to the political group). There are also countries where crazy and weird characters brave whatever sanity impediments to join the political party (here, I now refer to the event, and not the political group) and enjoy the fun.
African countries have also weak, if not weaker, political party systems. Cambodia, Myanmar and Laos have strong dominant parties, but weak opposition parties. China, the sleeping economic giant, has only one political party. The United States is supposed to have two strong political parties, but their system was not effective enough to stop a George W. Bush from inflicting himself on all of us, until Barack reinvented himself to redeem the Democratic Party from being the party of losers.
Thailand, the emerging tiger of Southeast Asia, was once dominated by a party, the Thai Rak Thai, whose ranks grew from the migration of politicians from the other established parties. Speaking of Thai Rak Thai, its name simply translates to “Thai loves Thai.” How is that for a name? Not even Imelda could have had such creativity to name a party “Pinoy Mahal ang Pinoy.” However, Former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was able to get away with it, and Thai Rak Thai was poised to build an even stronger majority in the Thai Parliament, until financial scandal and corruption charges, and a simmering Muslim secession movement in the south, spoiled Thaksin’s party (here, I refer to both meanings of the word) and caused him to live in exile.
As for colorful characters, I do not have to remind you of the California elections some years back that Arnie won, which had a fun-filled cast of characters that included a midget and a porn star—indeed a perfect party! And what about the eunuch that ran in India? Or those mynah birds and holy cows used as campaign materials there? Apparently, in India, when they throw a political party and invite party animals, they also make it a point to include the real ones.
There is one thing that Filipinos are noted for—it is our talent to entertain. Our fiestas are much awaited not only for the food we serve, but also for the dances and songs that we perform. Other people, including even Americans, which are perceived to be natural party animals, are amazed at the way we Filipinos are able to orchestrate the transformation of a seemingly dull moment to an explosion of fun, food, and frolic, not to mention booze. To us, however, this is our natural. After all, we are the same people who converted EDSA I into a big party, a grand political festival, where we easily transformed a tense conflict situation into a venue for community gathering and celebration.
It is in this context, therefore, that we should not be surprised if Filipinos see a “political party” not as the boring institution of loyalty, ideology, and platforms that textbooks in political science depict. Instead, it is seen as a “party”—a fun-filled political event, where anyone can dance with abandon in a political game where the norms are not the principles that one have but the camaraderie and personalities that one can enjoy.
We are indeed natural party animals. We have deconstructed a technical political term and turned it on its head to reveal another meaning. This is the only explanation I can think of, if only to make sense of this explosion of political partying by many of our politicians. Indeed, they turn politics into a party, where the talk is not about issues but about appearances; where the spoiler is the one serious and boring, and the star is the one who comes with a glittering dress or a perfumed look or a plastic smile talking an empty talk. There, the likes of Winnie Monsod become a spoiler while Miriam Santiago is party queen.
Politics became a party in past elections, when someone like Eddie Gil appeared as a serious option for citizens who have lost their faith in the electoral process. Politics became a party when a candidate like the late Raul Roco, who had the reputation for explosive temper, suddenly turned into a flower lover, later joined by Lito Atienza. Politics became a party when Ping Lacson, allegedly feared for reasons only Mon Tulfo knows, began to smile, and even shed tears on camera, although lately he has caused Erap Estrada, his erstwhile friend, to frown a lot.
Politics become a party when being a simple newsreader, as Noli de Castro was and still is, considered as equivalent to good public service; or when cute people like Pia Cayetano suddenly came out of nowhere to claim the senate seat of her late father, as if it is an inheritance. Politics became a party when Brother Eddie descends into the arena like a messiah, allegedly sent by God, and joyfully announced by an MTV VJ in the person of Donita Rose herself. Politics became a party when Jamby, Lito and Bong became Senators of the Republic.
Politics became a party when former enemies Miriam and Gloria became friends, and when Imee and Bongbong have only good things to say about Noynoy, for indeed parties are occasions when rivals kiss and make up, even if only for show. Of course, the greatest party of all explodes in its most feverish frenzy when Gloria threw a big one in New York, raking up bills that could rival the ones made by the greatest party animal of them all—Imelda Marcos, whose reinvention of herself through the power of popular culture is a rare political feat, to a point that the CCP has even honored her.
This is how we practice politics—as a party. In this party scene, rules of the game designed by the great minds in political science are thrown out. In fact, we Filipinos have created our own categories that go beyond the imagination of any bookish political science major. The absence of strong political parties, and here I refer to groups that aggregate political interests and compete during elections, is not the only peculiar contribution we have to the annals of political theory. We should be reminded that we are the only country where Senators from the opposition parties (again, I refer to the political group) become chairpersons of committees.
However, and lest we become cocky and declare our uniqueness as our monopoly, let us be humbled by the fact that there are other countries where political parties (again, I refer to the group) are as weak as ours. There are also countries where politicians easily change their political parties (again, I refer to the political group). There are also countries where crazy and weird characters brave whatever sanity impediments to join the political party (here, I now refer to the event, and not the political group) and enjoy the fun.
African countries have also weak, if not weaker, political party systems. Cambodia, Myanmar and Laos have strong dominant parties, but weak opposition parties. China, the sleeping economic giant, has only one political party. The United States is supposed to have two strong political parties, but their system was not effective enough to stop a George W. Bush from inflicting himself on all of us, until Barack reinvented himself to redeem the Democratic Party from being the party of losers.
Thailand, the emerging tiger of Southeast Asia, was once dominated by a party, the Thai Rak Thai, whose ranks grew from the migration of politicians from the other established parties. Speaking of Thai Rak Thai, its name simply translates to “Thai loves Thai.” How is that for a name? Not even Imelda could have had such creativity to name a party “Pinoy Mahal ang Pinoy.” However, Former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was able to get away with it, and Thai Rak Thai was poised to build an even stronger majority in the Thai Parliament, until financial scandal and corruption charges, and a simmering Muslim secession movement in the south, spoiled Thaksin’s party (here, I refer to both meanings of the word) and caused him to live in exile.
As for colorful characters, I do not have to remind you of the California elections some years back that Arnie won, which had a fun-filled cast of characters that included a midget and a porn star—indeed a perfect party! And what about the eunuch that ran in India? Or those mynah birds and holy cows used as campaign materials there? Apparently, in India, when they throw a political party and invite party animals, they also make it a point to include the real ones.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
On Simplifying Politics as a Morality Play Between Good and Evil
The surge of Noynoy Aquino's popularity, based from the latest polls, albeit only on limited but significant areas in Luzon (http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/inquirerheadlines/nation/view/20090914-225115/Aquino-tops-Luzon-poll) is very tempting for someone to toot the horn and celebrate the impending victory of the good versus the evil, or at the very least, that the good is winning over the evil.
While I am partial towards Noynoy, I would caution anyone against simplifying politics and life as a battle between good and evil. It is not, at least to the ordinary citizen.
Conrad de Quiros, in his column which appeared today, September 14, in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, criticized those who problematize the "good versus evil" narrative. I am one of those. In the column, he called us too theoretical, too confined in a tiny box, and too out of touch with the reality of politics and how the ordinary Filipino citizen thinks. (http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view/20090914-225096/It-is-Good-vs-Evil)
I have high respects for Conrad, and have agreed with him almost 99 percent of the time. This is one of the rare one percent that I would strongly disagree with my fellow Bikolano.
The narrative of good versus evil, in fact, is a convenient template for those in power and those who challenge them to mobilize and rally their supporters. It is easy. And it is too simple. All you have to do is to reduce the complexity of people's choices into a dualism between the good (which is always whoever you support), and the evil (of course, the one you don't support). Thus, it is in fact less of a reality that people experience, but more of an image that one conjures and simulates. Using plain language, it is an advertising campaign, an image building strategy. And our experiences with ads and image make-overs is that they create a hype to manipulate people's search for completeness in the face of a flawed existence--buy this product to make yourself whole, so to speak.
It is the same in political discourse. We speak of an incomplete national experience, a flawed national narrative brought about by evil forces now incarnated through a short woman with a mole who loves expensive food. We want to sell an alternative, our "product" who embodies the "good." No matter how strongly one can agree with the demonification of Gloria, this should not cloud our judgment in being honest with ourselves. It is all but campaign hype. But to offer it as biblical truth is, if I may use the metaphor of boxes, not even thinking in a tiny box, but thinking in a very large but nevertheless very imaginary box.
The opposition between good and evil is a convenient tool of those at the top of the overt national narrative, the elites, and power strugglers and their apologists. It is never the discourse of the ordinary. To assume that ordinary citizens could easily fall in this trap is assuming too much of the elite's power to beguile and too less of the ordinary citizen's ability to discern.
To the ordinary citizen, the issues that matter most are survival, authenticity and how to cope and make best of what they have. In a situation in which uncertainty, complexity and the multiplicity of possibilities predominate your decision landscape, it is going to be suicidal and inauthentic to simplify your choices between a good and an evil. Ordinary peoples negotiate the complex pathways of their everyday lives by their willingness to compromise and suspend moral judgments to survive the cacophony of obstacles thrown their way and to retain their bearings. This is why there is a white lie told even by those who go to mass everyday to make their children secure and safe; of a traffc transgression occassionally done by a conscientious tax payer and efficient manager if only to be on time to a meeting; of a human rights advocate technically living in sin with somebody without the benefit of a marriage, or with somebody of the same sex, if only to satisfy his or her own right to happiness; or of a farmer tenant pilfering from his landlord's share of the harvest by not reporting the correct volume; or of the many who are forced into prostitution just to support their families. The list could go on and on.
And in the above examples, the acts of the people mentioned are not cases of pure evil. And the choices that they make are not simply choosing one over the other.
No, it is not us who theorize about the complexity of ordinary life that are out of touch with reality.
On the contrary, I value the experience of the ordinary too much that I am not about to be stampeded by an ideological desire to justify the candidacy of somebody, no matter how I like him, by calling the choices that people make as unreal and fictitious.
History may have been written as an opposition between good and evil, and great transformations have been painted to be triumphs of the good over the evil. But I have said this before, and I am going to say this again--the history that we know is always written by the winners, and not by the losers. There is much to be teased out from the silences that are not articulated there. It is in these spaces that life becomes a complex terrain of everyday struggle, seen in ordinary people's own personal histories of negotiating the pathways outside the simplifying templates of an ideal good and a demonized evil driving the choices that they make. In fact, a careful check even of grand events, or of actions of kings, presidents, revolutionaries and great intellectuals will reveal that these are not purely manifestations of moral decisions in the context of a good-evil moment.
Furthermore, while Barack Obama and Cory Aquino may have been children of this Manichean opposition between good and evil, as Conrad points out in his column, so was Adolf Hitler when he demonized the Jews and painted the great Aryan race as the vessel from which the good in the human race could be realized. Many historical goods have come out of the narratives of good fighting evil. But in the same manner, many evil deeds have also been legitimized by it. Besides, what is "good" and what is "evil" is relative to the one who speaks. In an elitist narrative, those who have been given the right to write history would naturally have the upperhand.
And the last time I checked, Imelda Marcos is still at it whenever she talks about the true, the good and the beautiful. And she was just recently honored by the CCP.
I would say this: let those who write and speak emotionally and with conviction on behalf of the candidates they are committed to support no matter what speak the language of good and evil. They are just doing their jobs. That is their box, their very large but nevetheless very imaginary box.
While I am partial towards Noynoy, I would caution anyone against simplifying politics and life as a battle between good and evil. It is not, at least to the ordinary citizen.
Conrad de Quiros, in his column which appeared today, September 14, in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, criticized those who problematize the "good versus evil" narrative. I am one of those. In the column, he called us too theoretical, too confined in a tiny box, and too out of touch with the reality of politics and how the ordinary Filipino citizen thinks. (http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view/20090914-225096/It-is-Good-vs-Evil)
I have high respects for Conrad, and have agreed with him almost 99 percent of the time. This is one of the rare one percent that I would strongly disagree with my fellow Bikolano.
The narrative of good versus evil, in fact, is a convenient template for those in power and those who challenge them to mobilize and rally their supporters. It is easy. And it is too simple. All you have to do is to reduce the complexity of people's choices into a dualism between the good (which is always whoever you support), and the evil (of course, the one you don't support). Thus, it is in fact less of a reality that people experience, but more of an image that one conjures and simulates. Using plain language, it is an advertising campaign, an image building strategy. And our experiences with ads and image make-overs is that they create a hype to manipulate people's search for completeness in the face of a flawed existence--buy this product to make yourself whole, so to speak.
It is the same in political discourse. We speak of an incomplete national experience, a flawed national narrative brought about by evil forces now incarnated through a short woman with a mole who loves expensive food. We want to sell an alternative, our "product" who embodies the "good." No matter how strongly one can agree with the demonification of Gloria, this should not cloud our judgment in being honest with ourselves. It is all but campaign hype. But to offer it as biblical truth is, if I may use the metaphor of boxes, not even thinking in a tiny box, but thinking in a very large but nevertheless very imaginary box.
The opposition between good and evil is a convenient tool of those at the top of the overt national narrative, the elites, and power strugglers and their apologists. It is never the discourse of the ordinary. To assume that ordinary citizens could easily fall in this trap is assuming too much of the elite's power to beguile and too less of the ordinary citizen's ability to discern.
To the ordinary citizen, the issues that matter most are survival, authenticity and how to cope and make best of what they have. In a situation in which uncertainty, complexity and the multiplicity of possibilities predominate your decision landscape, it is going to be suicidal and inauthentic to simplify your choices between a good and an evil. Ordinary peoples negotiate the complex pathways of their everyday lives by their willingness to compromise and suspend moral judgments to survive the cacophony of obstacles thrown their way and to retain their bearings. This is why there is a white lie told even by those who go to mass everyday to make their children secure and safe; of a traffc transgression occassionally done by a conscientious tax payer and efficient manager if only to be on time to a meeting; of a human rights advocate technically living in sin with somebody without the benefit of a marriage, or with somebody of the same sex, if only to satisfy his or her own right to happiness; or of a farmer tenant pilfering from his landlord's share of the harvest by not reporting the correct volume; or of the many who are forced into prostitution just to support their families. The list could go on and on.
And in the above examples, the acts of the people mentioned are not cases of pure evil. And the choices that they make are not simply choosing one over the other.
No, it is not us who theorize about the complexity of ordinary life that are out of touch with reality.
On the contrary, I value the experience of the ordinary too much that I am not about to be stampeded by an ideological desire to justify the candidacy of somebody, no matter how I like him, by calling the choices that people make as unreal and fictitious.
History may have been written as an opposition between good and evil, and great transformations have been painted to be triumphs of the good over the evil. But I have said this before, and I am going to say this again--the history that we know is always written by the winners, and not by the losers. There is much to be teased out from the silences that are not articulated there. It is in these spaces that life becomes a complex terrain of everyday struggle, seen in ordinary people's own personal histories of negotiating the pathways outside the simplifying templates of an ideal good and a demonized evil driving the choices that they make. In fact, a careful check even of grand events, or of actions of kings, presidents, revolutionaries and great intellectuals will reveal that these are not purely manifestations of moral decisions in the context of a good-evil moment.
Furthermore, while Barack Obama and Cory Aquino may have been children of this Manichean opposition between good and evil, as Conrad points out in his column, so was Adolf Hitler when he demonized the Jews and painted the great Aryan race as the vessel from which the good in the human race could be realized. Many historical goods have come out of the narratives of good fighting evil. But in the same manner, many evil deeds have also been legitimized by it. Besides, what is "good" and what is "evil" is relative to the one who speaks. In an elitist narrative, those who have been given the right to write history would naturally have the upperhand.
And the last time I checked, Imelda Marcos is still at it whenever she talks about the true, the good and the beautiful. And she was just recently honored by the CCP.
I would say this: let those who write and speak emotionally and with conviction on behalf of the candidates they are committed to support no matter what speak the language of good and evil. They are just doing their jobs. That is their box, their very large but nevetheless very imaginary box.
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