Cory Aquino — What A Failure

The sluices of heaven opened, and heavy rains poured down. Below it, as if in a battle of wills, mere mortals also steadfastly poured out their love for a much beloved Cory Aquino. On this day, heaven could not compete with mortals who would not back down from their desire to give an earnest send-off to someone who has given so much.

The more the loss sinks in, the more it proves so true – we weep for ourselves, not for the departed. Paano na tayo?

As I heard the fitting tributes, I was worried as much as I was touched. I was worried at how people, unable to adequately express their gratitude, readily promoted Cory from former President to hero. I was worried that people, feeling how even that doesn’t suffice, seemed ready to elevate her to near-sainthood and possibly lobby for her canonization. I was worried that people, in their earnest belief that Cory is in heaven, would start praying for her intercession rather than take up the work left behind. I was worried because this syndrome uncannily resembles what happens in a lot of Filipino households — one does all the work as provider, while the rest, misunderstanding Milton, probably feel that they also serve who just stand and wait. I was worried that Cory was being glorified so much that we would end up seemingly very different from her; someone we couldn’t become.

What did Cory accomplish to deserve the day she’s had?

As I reflect on Cory’s life, it’s not difficult to see how failures dogged her every step of the way. Her marriage to Ninoy – that could hardly have been marital bliss. I read somewhere before that happy couples, typically, don’t make a lot of noise; they’re content to keep to each other, blending into the backdrop of life. That’s probably why we have an expression in the vernacular, lumagay sa tahimik. Cory’s married life certainly wasn’t that. She failed to blend into life’s backdrop. As a parent – the way children turn out, I imagine, is a good barometer of parenting. Noynoy, up to this time, has not shown strong indication that he’ll live up to his parents’ legacy. And Kris, well, we’ve all witnessed her wash dirty laundry in public. In Cory’s defense, she was practically a single parent under duress. Still, failings are failings. As a President – her administration was riddled with seven coup attempts. And as most of her administration’s energies, it seems, were spent quelling them, there was not much else left to live up to the exceedingly high expectations for her transition government. Even after her Presidency, she stayed involved and exhorted President Arroyo to step down. Even in that, she didn’t succeed.

Without meaning to be disrespectful or contentious, Cory, in many ways, was a failure. I look around, and I see so many other Filipinos – failures like her. I don’t need to look far; I see one in the mirror every waking day. But what ‘s amazing and inspiring about Cory is what she managed to become, even as a failure: the Philippines’ – and Asia’s – first woman President. And she did it by toppling and politically castrating an intelligent, cunning dictator who was the most dominant figure in Philippine politics. She earned Time magazine’s nod for Woman of the Year in 1986. The erstwhile housewife also got a standing ovation for eloquently representing us before the US Congress. She made us proud to be Filipinos again, and it was timely, too. For our favorite glory-days claim to being second only to Japan in standing at some point in our past happened too long ago, that we’re not even certain it wasn’t just a myth. Moreover, apart from numerous honorary degrees bestowed upon Cory, she was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. One can only sigh in admiration of what a failure she was. She showed us how one could fail in so many things, yet succeed in greater things. If we could be the kind of failure that she was, by God, imagine where we could take this country! What amazed me the most about Cory was her indifference to the Presidency and all its trappings. That’s the kind of leader you can trust with power. What worries me is that there is not one among all the current aspirants to power who seems to possess that indifference.

As a people, we’ve come full circle: in 1983, we buried Ninoy in solidarity and defiance; almost exactly 26 years later, we’ve laid Cory to rest in unabashed love. Things have, indeed, changed, but they also haven’t. After two dead Aquinos, what have we learned? What have we got to show as a nation? And the question persists: Paano na tayo?

While we have an appreciation of how one person can move mountains, we haven’t shown an understanding of how one person’s efforts alone still cannot suffice – whether it’s a national leader trying to get a nation to get its shit together or a breadwinner providing for an extended family saddled with mga palamunin. Maybe, that’s part of the reason why we suck at team sports. It’s much easier to rally behind a Manny Pacquiao or an Efren “Bata” Reyes rather than to put in the kind of work they do to be like them. Whether it’s nation building, team sports, or family, everybody needs to pull his weight. The prospect of failure should neither be an excuse nor a deterrent. And we only need to look at Cory and her life as inspiration and guidance. There, I’m reminded of a prayer I stumbled upon in my previous life as a Jesuit seminarian.

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.

I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health, that I might do greater things.

I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy.

I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men.

I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.

I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for—but everything I had hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

Perhaps, it is fitting that Elie Wiesel’s words – he, a Holocaust survivor, who was ultimately awarded the Nobel Peace Prize when Cory was nominated – would sum up the essence of Cory’s life and contribution: “There are victories of the soul and spirit. Sometimes, even if you lose, you win.”