Thursday, July 24, 2008 Commentary: The dialogue that was By Jun Sula
I WHOLLY disagree with all who fully agree that last Monday's dialogue between Governor Ed Panlilio and Vice Governor Joseller " Yeng" Guiao was a failure.
They probably watched another show or expected a different one.
The fact that both of them showed up for the verbal showmanship was already an incontrovertible success indicator. That's according to Woody Allen who said that presence is already 50 percent of success. Can you imagine if one or both didn't bother so much as to say "hello" and "goodbye" to the hundreds of "palas" who came to root for their noble cause?
In fact, it nearly happened. I was told that at the last minute, the good Among threatened to withdraw from the you-talk-I-talk hype of the year. He wanted to squeeze his favorite lawyer and provincial administrator into the panel but Yeng reportedly opposed the idea. It's a good thing that both agreed that her sound bites were not necessary as were the board members' barks. Which one is worse, the public never had a chance of knowing because of the self-imposed gag. But guess who kept whispering sweet nothings to someone's ear?
The absence of the mayors in the dialogue was another proof of the phenomenal event's resounding success. Can you imagine if, for instance, Candaba Mayor Jerry Pelayo was there to recite his oft-repeated litanies on Among's alleged dismal performance against his own awesome feat in the land of migratory birds? That would have turned the whole shebang into a dull, murderous monologue, the exact, lousy opposite.
It's a good thing Pelayo's earlier prayer for divine intervention was answered. Someone up there probably decided he was talking too much already. That's a tough lesson in persistence: be careful what you ask for, you might just get and regret it.
Because of the dialogue, the public now has a better idea of what's - or who's - the problem in the provincial government. One accused the other of being clueless who accused the other back of being confused. The public must have realized the comeuppance. Yes, the cliché is always on the money: people deserve the leaders they listen to. Or, more romantically, they deserve each other.
The dialogue has also confirmed a pesky, risible notion on who really is on top at the provincial capitol. If your guess is my guess, then we all agree that somebody seems be getting all the juicy powers and authorities, more than anybody in the history of the province has probably enjoyed. Does the idea of one reigning but not ruling resonate again? Only a successful dialogue can start making sense that way.
And thanks to that dialogue, it's now clear and certain to all and sundry - including the sun-dried sons of sands known as BALAS BOYS - that democracy is alive and can kick you in the teeth at the provincial capitol. That's what the popular priest and the equally popular coach virtually said, did or conveyed in all forms visible and audible. Sticks and stones may break your bones but words can't possibly hurt you. Right?
Wrong. If looks and glares as sharp as a double-edge sword could kill, the convention center would have been awash in blood as early as 4 p.m. But the seething in rage and the subdued outrage were miraculously stymied for effects - that's what a live coverage does - until 6 p.m.
To say the least, the dialogue was instructive in anger management. Breaking plates against a symbolic object might have been more fun, but there's no allocation for that in the 2008 budget of the province. And even if the governor proposes for a kitty for the purpose, the vice governor and the sing-along guys at the board might sue him for irreverence.
As homage to patronizing politics, could anything have been more dramatic and contemptuous than Yeng's giving Among a copy of the latest Time Magazine, whose cover story was Nelson Mandela's secrets of leadership, for everybody to see and chew up instantly? And could anything have been more equally patronizing and contemptuous than Among assuring the Greek giver that he would see where the horse would fit in the stable or the carriage?
That was public civility and decorum at its highest, and no one could have modeled it better than the dialogue's principal "actors."
At the end of the dialogue, there was more hope to hope for than before. If the egregious hype attempted to draw blood out of a turnip, as in "putting a period to all the bickering", it exceeded the expectation by getting a series of exclamation points and a question mark in the end. In chess, those punctuations meant a decisive turning point in the game - for better, or for worse.
All of this, contrary to what people say, proves without the slightest doubt that the dialogue was not a failure. Did I say success?
