Semana Santa and the Jewish tradition
WHEN I was in grade school, we were asked to write about how we spent our summer vacation or Christmas holidays and read them out in front of the class. But I couldn’t remember ever having been asked by my teacher how I spent Holy Week. I thought I should begin a tradition among my grandkids, except that in the age of internet and social media, their take on Holy Week would be quite different from mine. To start with, and to broaden their knowledge, I would interject some facets of the commemoration that goes back even farther back than that inscribed in our Christian faith.
As a background, Holy Week is universally observed by all Christian denominations and depicts the Passion of the Christ as witnessed from the New Testament of the Bible. It starts on Palm Sunday recalling the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem, met with palm-waving hosannas. Christ then presided over the last supper with his disciples and proceeded to the Garden of Gethsemane where he prayed and agonized and was subsequently arrested after Judas betrayed him. This is marked on Maundy Thursday – which in the Christian tradition is symbolized by the washing of the feet of the poor. The next day is Good Friday, the Crucifixion of Christ and his death at Calvary.
This year, Good Friday coincided with the Jewish Passover. The latter memorializes the Israelites’ Exodus from Egypt and their escape to freedom from the Pharaoh thousands of years ago. The former appears in the New Testament (the Bible) while the latter is in the Old Testament (Torah).
The highlight of the Jewish Passover is the Seder (dinner) which occurs on the first or second night of the Passover. The Seder is an exclusively Jewish festive meal that uses the Haggadah, a book of readings for the Seder service recounting or retelling the Passover story (exodus from Egypt) and features special food and singing of songs. An interesting feature is the asking of the four questions—traditionally asked by the youngest person at the table.
“Ma Nish tana halailah hazeh mikol haleilot’ Why is this night different from all other nights?
On all other nights we eat leavened bread, tonight only matzah;
On all other nights we eat all vegetables, tonight only bitter vegetables;
On all other nights, we don’t dip our food even once, tonight we dip our food twice;
On all other nights we eat sitting, tonight we eat only reclining.
Good Friday is the most solemn day of the Christian Holy Week where Filipinos believe evil spirits have the run of the place. There is something quaint about the way most Filipinos observe Holy Week. In my last column (“Presidential system-patronage politics and political dynasties,” Manila Times, March 28), I wrote about Filipino dualism in our cultural ethos. Our deep faith in our religion, predominantly Roman Catholic, mixed with pagan practices, including venerating nature and the supernatural beings that inhabit them.
In our folklore, the aswang, mananagggal and kapri come out in droves. On this day, we must observe silence. No singing, no music, no loud conversation and no travel. We are not even allowed by our grandparents to take a bath. All the malls and most commercial establishments are closed and Filipinos are expected by the church hierarchy to be confined at home in deep reflection. Many return to their provinces to be with family; and the middle and upper classes will be found in the beaches or out of town on vacation.
But the Holy Week culminates on Easter Sunday. The resurrection of Christ from the dead is the linchpin of Christianity, its core belief – without which Christian faith is meaningless and Roman Catholicism a farce.
Both the Jewish Passover and the Christian Lenten holiday are adjusted by both religions to coincide with early spring, with the Christian belief that the resurrection took place on Sunday, as decreed by the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD (Wikipedia).
Jews do not commemorate Holy Week the way Christians do. But both observe these events based on hope and redemption “…a delivery from a state of despair; for the Jews from slavery in Egypt, and for Christians, from sin.” For the Jews their oppression and the desperate experience suffered in Egypt formed them into a nation. But their God “…imbued them with the national mission to create a body politic of a nobler order…to recall the exodus in dark times nurtured the yearning for a future restoration…(and) Passover heralds the birth of the Jewish people as a force for good in the comity of nations. In contrast, Easter assures the individual Christian life eternal. Passover summons Jews collectively into the world to repair it; Easter proffers a way out of a world beyond repair.” (Wikipedia)
I don’t expect my grandchildren to understand these nuances and write about “what they did during Holy Week”. But I should begin to tell them stories about a man many years ago who died for all of us. I won’t even describe this man as having been nailed to a cross. This would be too gory for them and will give nightmares to my six-year-old Max and four-year-old Javier. In time, they will understand and perhaps write about the Redeemer.
Meantime, we will have them share stories (they can’t write yet) about their happy experiences at the Tokyo Disneyland and Disney Sea and their introduction to sashimi and sushi. Or maybe we will talk about the blooming of the sakura, the cherry blossoms that depict the transient nature of life and its fragility when the blooms fall in so short a time. Perhaps this is an apt digression to the Holy Week narrative of Christ’s passion, love, death and redemption. My grandchildren will be sad, and perhaps begin to learn about death; a safe intro into Christ’s suffering. But not now—only when they’re older.
I’m told that in public gatherings assembled by the Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG) and local government units, audiences are practically being promised heaven under a federal form of government, with hardly any serious effort to explain how or why. In a firsthand account from one who was in one such forum, the speaker asked the audience: “How many meals do you eat in a day?” Hearing answers saying they only have one or two, the speaker declared, “Once we have a federal form of government, all of you will be able to eat three meals a day or more!” It’s a real stretch, but certainly an effective way to win support for federalism among the uninformed, undiscriminating and uneducated among us.
Sad to say, it’s quite likely that there are enough out there for whom that reasoning is enough, and who can swing the referendum vote for federalism if and when we get to that point. Like it or not, those who would care to study the pros and cons of the federalism debate are grossly outnumbered by those who wouldn’t. It is thus incumbent on those who would to help those who wouldn’t, so the latter may know, think about, and evaluate the issues enough to make a reasoned judgment, whichever way one eventually goes. The important thing is that people are able to make an informed choice on something with such a profound effect on our nation’s future.
Sadly, the government cannot be relied upon to play this important role, as it’s already in the mode of campaigning for federalism, rather than informing the public fully and objectively regarding both sides of the debate. Acting Interior Secretary Eduardo Año has been quoted as saying, “The DILG through the Center for Federalism and Constitutional Reform … [will] lead the nationwide campaign to inform and educate the public about the merits of federalism.” Nothing about demerits or options? The DILG website describes its role as “the focal organization for field level machinery for the awareness, acceptance, conversion and action of qualified voters to support a new constitution and a federal system of government.” One hopes that the Commission on Higher Education, which will reportedly mobilize its network of state colleges and universities nationwide, properly sees its job as to inform and consult, rather than to campaign for a foregone conclusion.
Many issues must indeed be considered for a reasoned judgment on a matter wherein the devil lies in the details. I recently listened to detailed presentations on institutional and fiscal issues on federalism by two scholarly experts (one from the University of the Philippines, and one from the government think tank Philippine Institute for Development Studies or PIDS). They explained important points, two of which I share below, which merit much wider exposure as Filipinos decide whether or not to support a shift from our current unitary system to a federal one.
The first point is that federalism does not equate to greater decentralization. There are federalized governments that are less decentralized than unitary ones, and prime examples lie right next to us. Malaysia is described to have a centralized federal system where the constituent states play relatively limited roles in relation to the center. On the other hand, Indonesia has achieved highly decentralized governance under its unitary presidential system. Federal systems range from highly centralized (as in Venezuela) to highly decentralized (United States), just as unitary systems range from highly centralized (Singapore) to highly decentralized (Norway). If stronger decentralization is the goal, federalism need not be the answer.
The second point concerns the huge incremental cost that a shift to a federal system will entail, just by the sheer number of new legislators, officials and staff it will create. PIDS puts the additional cost in the range of P44-72
billion, not even counting changes in the judiciary. New legislators alone, let alone their staff, will number anywhere between 821 and 2,380, based on existing federalism proposals.
Won’t we simply be creating a government by politicians, of politicians, and for politicians? I shudder at the thought.
NOW that the 25-man Consultative Commission (Concom) is constituted, the serious task of crafting the federal constitution is off to an auspicious start. Although the body is still six commissioners short, I hear from the grapevine that the Deegong may still add more women and some from the indigenous communities.
We have a blend of a disparate assembly of brains, experience and committed adherents who could do justice to the task at hand. I refer particularly to three octogenarian appointees whom I have been acquainted with over the decades. Former Chief Justice Reynato Puno, the Concom chair was also the chair of the board of advisers of the Centrist Democracy Political Institute (CDPI) which I co-founded with Peter Koeppinger in 2009. Reuben Canoy, a political giant of Misamis Oriental and Mindanao, and a federalism true believer who founded the Mindanao Independence Movement (MIM) and was a presidential hopeful in the late 1970s.
And one I consider my guru and a good friend since the late 1970s, President Cory Aquino’s local governments minister, Aquilino “Nene” Pimentel. It was my privilege then as deputy minister in the department to help Minister Pimentel work out the intricacies of appointments of several thousands of OICs, from governors to board members to mayors to councilors—the result of President Cory’s termination from government service of all Marcos regime appointees and elective hold-overs after the 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution.
At the start of her administration, President Cory deferred to us Mindanawnons the task of restructuring the political leadership in our respective areas, particularly those areas in Mindanao where the PDP- Laban was first established. Thus, we involved OIC governors Dodo Cagas, in Davao del Sur, Polding Lopez in Davao Oriental, Balt Satur in Davao del Norte, Jun Paredes, in Agusan del Sur, Cha Diaz of North Cotabato, Mike Sueno of South Cotabato, Boy Tabios in Bukidnon, Donkoy Emano of Misamis Oriental, Tony Gallardo in Camiguin and Said Pangarungan of Lanao del Sur. They were all PDP-Laban stalwarts.
But Minister Pimentel was particularly concerned with Davao City, as it was the so-called “laboratory of communism” and the headquarters of the “sparrow units,” trained assassins of the CPP-NPA. Through the leadership of the industrialist Jesus “Chito” Ayala, we hammered out a working configuration. Zafiro Respicio a young and impetuous but astute PDP-Laban original was to be installed as OIC mayor. Nanay Soling Duterte, the doyenne of Davao society, with a sterling reputation as a civic leader, and the widow of a former respected Davao governor, was our choice for vicemayor—a complementing counterpoint as the perfect confrère to Zaf Respicio. Both were also acceptable to the Left. I presented the scheme to Minister Nene and to President Coy for confirmation.
At the last minute, however, Nanay Soling declined the post and suggested her son. That was the first time I heard of the Deegong, who was then a prosecutor. Thus, his substitute appointment to vicemayor and the beginning of his political ascendancy. Karma or destiny couldn’t be defined in any other way.
Federalism was not an innovative idea of DU30, although our original PDP, partly founded in Davao with Sammy Occena, Pimentel’s 1971 Con-con colleague, Rey Teves, Cris Lanorias, Zaf Respicio, Cesar Ledesma, etc. were in the forefront of defining federalism.
We have today two separate draft documents and timelines for a federal system, both being considered by the Concom; the PDP-Laban model and Centrist Democracy proposals. The former proposes a so-called hybrid presidential/parliamentary federal model while our latter proposal is a simple parliamentary-federal set-up.
The Concom may have to parse the implications of the two models well as the former wants to put in place a federal system during the incumbency of President Duterte (2022) while the Centrist goes for the establishment of a parliamentary government first (2022) and a gradual shift to a federal system (2022-2028) long after the tenure of President Duterte.
The Concom must hurdle two obstacles; the imprimatur of DU30 who is fixated in a “strong-French model-universally elected president”; and the two houses of Congress, the final arbiter as they are constitutionally mandated to revise the 1987 constitution.
The current fear of the populace now that it can almost taste the texture of the coming change—pagbabago—is that Congress is not exactly trusted to embed into the new constitution their hopes and aspirations; but instead entrench further their prerogatives. Witness their refusal to enact the 1987 Constitution’s prohibition of political dynasties.
Offhand there is no agreement between the Senate and the House of Representatives to break the impasse on the constitutional revision process—of “voting separately or jointly.” The tyranny of the “yellow” minority in Senate threatens to prolong this conflict to a point where events will overtake the constitutional revision process. This minority can and will exhaust the patience of the Deegong, the HoR and the Cha-cha/fed adherents, bringing into centerstage the possibility of a revolutionary government and destabilization.
So finally, our Centrist proposal for a constitutional convention (Con-con) could be the better alternative over the two other modes of constitutional revisions—peoples’ initiative (PI) and constituent assembly (Con-ass)—provided a combination of elected delegates be balanced with the appointed chosen delegates of the President. Most of those running as elected delegates would be the moneyed few, members of political dynasties whose clans and family interest take precedence. The chosen appointed constitutional experts even from the marginalized sectors – who could never afford and win an electoral campaign can counter and balance these dynasties – and give the presidential agenda a chance to be debated and pondered upon well. We propose 40 percent to 50 percent of the latter to compose the Con-con delegates. Congress needs to enact this law.
Those who oppose constitutional reforms can bide their time; we, the proponents cannot. We waited for decades for the chance to reach this point— the possibility of a systemic reboot that will extinguish the underlying multitude of problems that have been haunting the Filipino— stark poverty, injustice and corruption in all levels of governance. We understand too that we have a flawed leader in President Rodrigo Duterte—a petulant, irascible political outsider who intimidates even his allies. But it is a given too that no leader in the past 100 years has emerged with the chutzpah to seriously challenge the oligarchy and the custodians of the status quo.
He is the leader who can escort us to where we should go. Or we all burn!