The Sunbaked King

I don’t write about politics, ethics, and religion too often, because I think these are divisive topics most of the time, and writing about them requires a lot of restraint, responsibility, and research. Though I have a lot of opinions on our politicians, public servants, and priests, I usually don’t have the necessary background to elevate my comments from the mundane (“Gusto ko si Leila de Lima. Tough.”) and the crass (“Gago pala yang mga bishops na yan e. Disgusting pala ha? Look who’re being disgusting.”) to something more “newspaper-worthy.”

The issue at hand is too close to home, however, so I decided to share my thoughts on this one.

Perhaps it’s a mere coincidence that I came home to Davao just as the spotlight hit the city with the intensity of a thousand colliding media vans. A brief but devastating downpour of rain had just caused a considerable loss in homes and in lives. Even though I was still in Manila when the first wave struck (there was a second one later that week), I witnessed the remnants of the terror that passed because my family lives close to the most affected areas. In fact, the funeral home where a number of flood victims were laid to rest is just a stone’s throw away from our house.

The focus on Davao City intensified when a few days after our mayor punched the city sheriff in the face. The details can be Googled easily, but in a nutshell: (a) a demolition order was to be executed that day; (b) Mayor Sara Duterte requested for a 2-hour extension before the execution so she can come over and talk to the residents; (c) the sheriff Abe Andres did not follow this order, and the demolition team advanced despite violent protests from the residents; (d) the mayor arrived in time to see this happening, ordered the sheriff to face her, and then punched him for his disobedience.

The backlash came swift and fierce. As the events were televised on a national scale, the comments came from all over. Twitter and Facebook statuses buzzed with the opinions of interested onlookers. While there were those who cheered Mayor Duterte for her spunk and for standing her ground, there were several critics who opined that she should be made accountable for her actions, for being unprofessional in dealing with the sheriff.

I have no issues with both types of reactions, as both have their merits. I for one think that the mayor’s heart is in the right place. The city had just experienced one of the worst natural disasters in recent years, and the execution of a demolition order at such a time is not only insensitive, it is heartless. Mayor Duterte did not request for a cancellation of the order altogether; she only requested for a 2-hour reprieve so that she could face the residents herself and explain the necessity for such an action and thereby prevent violence, which she was sure would be forthcoming if the demolition was done wrong. Which it was.

On the other hand, I am also of the opinion that this does not justify the public humiliation. As any leadership book will tell you, reprimand the subordinate in private. More effort may have been exerted to keep the temper in check, especially when the event has already been punctuated with initial displays of violence. (Do note that after heads have cooled, the mayor herself acknowledges her mistake and have voluntarily filed for a leave of absence from office in order for DILG to conduct their investigations in peace. This is expected of a self-respecting official, but somehow this makes her head and shoulders above the less reputable (and more typical) politicians out there.)

This is not the issue, at least for me. What I take offense to are the other comments that have cropped up, particularly those exaggerating the actions of our mayor, and those negatively generalizing the Davaoenos as a people. At least one writer has tweeted that what the mayor did showed shades of Ampatuan (!!!), while some others have criticized the Davaoenos for “needing” the Dutertes so much, which is indicative of our level of immaturity and our lack of discipline.

It is to be expected that we Davaoenos will come to the rescue of our mayor in the face of the harsh criticisms that have been thrown her way. Local officials voted into office tend to have a more loyal following than their national counterparts, after all. But in Davao City, it goes beyond a lemming-like sort of loyalty. Before the narrow-minded critics throw their own punches at the people and at our mayor, perhaps it would be nice for them to first ask why the Dutertes have ruled Davao City for over 20 years. There must be a reason, no?

The Dutertes have transformed Davao from its past crime-infested state to one of the most livable cities in the Philippines. They have provided a level of security that cannot be matched anywhere else. Does this indicate that we “need” the Dutertes? Yes, we do. Every city has its criminals; every city has its external threats. We “need” the Dutertes in ensuring that the peace is kept. And because they have maintained this peace and managed the city successfully, the loyalty has transformed to something akin to love.

Does this indicate that we need the Dutertes “too much”? I don’t think so. City management is a two-way street. The Dutertes are just as dependent on the Davaoenos’ participation as we are on their leadership and execution. Rather than proving the case that we lack discipline, Davao’s current state is telling of the people’s commitment to making the city a more livable one. Where else in the Philippines can you find a “no-firecracker” ordinance that actually works? Where else in the Philippines can you find a “no-smoking” ordinance that is actually being followed? Where else in the Philippines can you expect taxi drivers to NOT reject you, and to give you EXACT change, down to that 50 cent? If that isn’t discipline, I don’t know what is.

I wasn’t born in Davao City. My brothers weren’t born in Davao City. My parents weren’t born in Davao City. But we’ve spent the better part of our lives here, and we couldn’t have been much prouder and luckier to have called this, the Durian City, our home.