Now more than ever we need Filibusteros

NEW YORK—A few days ago, the 113^th anniversary of the declaration of Philippine independence was celebrated. This weekend, the sesquicentennial of José Rizal’s birth will be observed. Rizal of course was a catalyst in the nationalist movement towards separating the archipelago from the colonial clutches of Spain, a grande dame of the old world order but by the start of the 19^th century was a doddering señora, no match later on for the ascendant American eagle.

That only a week separates both dates is symbolic of how intertwined the fates of one individual and one nation were, and of how they continue to be so linked. While the country did regain its independence in 1946 (the actual historical process more sobering than exhilarating, with persistent questions about whether Filipinos truly enjoy independence), no such break was ever made with the church, not just a pillar of colonial rule but its very embodiment. Under the Spanish, church and state were never actually separate; the colonial state would not have survived without the agency of the friars sent over from the motherland. The friar was everything to el pueblo: priest, educator, arbiter of civil affairs, landlord, unofficial representative of Mother Spain.

Rizal’s critique of Spanish abuse and in particular his scathing portrayal of how the friars behaved in the islands are what got him killed. Padres Damaso and Salvi might have been fictional creations but to anyone (then and now) reading the Noli and the Fili, they would have immediately been recognized as true-to-life representations of men of the cloth, swaggering and power drunk in their roles as little Caesars, as interested in worldly affairs—and riches—as any secular prince or lord.

Is it any different today? We have political independence of a sort, but has the relationship between Philippine civil society and the church changed? Hardly. One need only consider the ultraconservative cast of the church hierarchy here and their vociferous, knee-jerk opposition to any progressive social programs (programs that by no means can be considered radical) that the government proposes. To these anti-female semen bearers, blind adherence to a regressive patriarchy is second nature, and anything that hints at a possible disruption of their ordered privileges is to be immediately stamped out. All women are potential Eves in their garden, easily led astray unless firmly and tightly controlled. Women may be put on a pedestal or lusted after, as Maria Clara was by Salvi, but they, and their supposedly anarchic desires, are not to be trusted. In a crisp riposte to the bishops, women’s groups recently marching to demonstrate their support of the proposed Reproductive Health bill chanted, Walang pakialam ang pari, sa amin mga ari! (“The priest has no business interfering with our bodies!”)

The bill now being considered is inaccurately presented by the conservative clergy and their minions as a pro-abortion act, never mind that its core aim is to regulate conception, not to abort it. Never mind that those who suffer most from the lack of sound family planning are the poor, that the children born and raised in poverty face a life that is consistently demeaning and degrading. Sure, there are success stories, but these are few and far between–the exceptions that prove the rule. In this light, how can we regard the Catholic establishment’s resistance to the bill as anything but anti-poor?

Divorce is another no-no, presented as a dire threat to the sanctity of marriage. Where’s the logic in this? To make divorce out to be a threat to marriage is like saying the availability of dentistry threatens one’s teeth. The reality is that even in the absence of divorce, married couples do split up, do end up with other partners. Or find the single life much more rewarding.  This opposition is a bit odd, considering that the church allows couples the option of annulling their union. It is however a long and expensive process, and available only to those with the wherewithal to undertake it. The church might be for the poor in spirit but only for the poor in spirit and rarely for the poor of pocket.

The current mindset of institutional bishops is perhaps best reflected in the inane sentiments of Bishop Juan de Dios M. Pueblos of Butuan (well-known partisan of the previous president, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo), who has made no bones about his wish to see P-Noy gone from the presidency: “He is not really worthy to be a president. That job is not for him. The earlier he will be out of his post, will [be] better for the Philippines.” That could be Damaso speaking or Salvi, though with less verve and eloquence. As this man makes startlingly clear, a bishop’s robes is no guarantee that their wearer is transformed into a paragon of wisdom and humility.

Rizal is our sure-footed guide here. We need, like Rizal, to declare our independence not just politically but religiously as well. Why should one’s spirituality be dependent on the strictures of another? The threats of excommunication, of being burned eternally by the fires of Hell, might work for the simple-minded, for toddlers, but has no place in a society of responsible and rational citizens. Admittedly, we are far from that enlightened condition and still spend far too much time on our knees, still give far too much weight to a church that continues to be more of a burden than a blessing, an anti-democratic behemoth that should be consigned to the dustbin of history. There are no masters where there are no slaves, declared the original filibustero. Amen to that.

copyright@ L.H.Francia