Speech of President Benigno S. Aquino III during the Global Discipleship Congress, May 24, 3013 Speech of His Excellency Benigno S. Aquino III President of the Philippines During the Global Discipleship Congress [Delivered on May 24, 2013] Thank you. Good morning, please sit down. If you will notice, I had the teleprompter removed. I’m not actually happy with the speech. I don’t know if it’s becoming a tradition that every time I appear before you, I find the speech prepared is inadequate, by my normally gifted speechwriters. [Applause] So, since waking up, and on the way here, I have been drafting a speech. So it will tend to be disorganized and I apologize in advance and, of course, somehow I may had the impression that I will be talking primarily to Filipinos. It turns out that there are delegations from about 20 different countries present today—60-plus countries. So that means I had to rewrite the speech that I was drafting because it was in Filipino. [Laughter] So, again, if there are errors, they are solely mine. And the difficulty is I have to start with a story regarding kutsinta. [Laughter] Well, just to explain to our foreign delegates present, kutsinta is local delicacy. It’s common anywhere in the country. It’s made of rice and it’s sweet and it’s normally colored either orange or brown. Well, the story starts with: We were exiled in Boston. We were together as a family. It was somewhat a normal life after having undergone close to eight years of the martial law period. During Christmas, there would be a gathering of the Filipino community in Boston, which at that time wasn’t too big, about 200 or so professionals—and one of the wives of the residents of Boston, an American citizen already, felt, as part of the Christmas cheer, to prepare kutsinta for the community. Of course, its a very tedious process to do so and normally one would get a portion of about two pieces for each individual, once a year. And for me, somehow, that symbolized the loneliness of exile. Especially when we would watch advertisements by Florida that said, during winter, and at the height of winter, it would show palm trees swaying in the breeze and would end with a tagline that said, “The warm breeze and palm trees of Florida.” While we were shivering in New England. [Laughter] So, the net result is that somehow every time I get to see kutsinta, regardless of wherever I am in the country or outside, I feel compelled to eat it because I was so deprived when we were in Boston. [Laughter] Which brings me to the next topic, and I want to share with you what it means when we talk about burdens of office. And perhaps to encapsulate it, let me share with you something that Secretary Petilla once showed me. One day, he told me, he said “Mr. President, I am now thoroughly prepared.” And, of course, Secretary Petilla is a very gifted individual both in the private sector and in governance, as governor of the province of Leyte. And I was wondering why he had to say he was prepared. He opens his small bag, brings out a package of Skyflakes crackers. And I was really curious as to what he was about to say next, and he said, “Mr. President, we’re following the example of Secretary Singson, that whenever we accompany you, we make sure that we are prepared for any eventuality—including missed meals.” [Laughter] And unfortunately that is the case. One time in particular, we had a dialogue that started at 10 o’clock, the budgeted time was up to 11:30, but for whatever reason the dialogue lasted until 1:30, which even passed the period we had allocated for lunch. Suffice to say that it took us until 3 o’clock in the afternoon before we finally got to partake of something and the something turned out to be finger sandwiches at a hotel for the fourth engagement of the day. Secretary Almendras, who’s not exactly a small person, joined me in this endeavor—and we all had, shall we say, we were all feeling light-headed by the time we got to the third engagement. And, in fact, even the media was complaining and they said, “Mr. President, perhaps you have made the choice to forgo the meals in service of the people. We also serve the people but we have not agreed to that choice of forgoing all of the meals. And if you don’t eat, we also don’t eat; so please stop to give us an opportunity to also partake of our own meals, which we think are part of our basic human rights.” [Laughter] So, my friends, being President of this country is not exactly the easiest job in the world. We have about 10 million Filipinos elsewhere. Chances are, if the theres an incident that happens anywhere in the world, there would be a Filipino directly involved. And let me give you some examples of the problem. Early on in this administration, there was a flare-up in the Korean Peninsula, which is, unfortunately, turning into a regular occurrence. And at the time I was briefed: How many Filipinos do we have in South Korea? I was told we have 50,000 individuals in South Korea. And we also had nine Filipinos in North Korea. And I had to ask: Why do we have people in North Korea? And I was told, “Sir, they are part of various UN offices and missions.” Now, the problem is: We have an embassy of 23 people in South Korea. The Filipinos in North Korea, we have to deal with them through our Beijing embassy. So there was an incident wherein there was a ship of the South Korean Navy that was sunk, then subsequently an island of South Korea that was lobbed with artillery shells. There was talk that war was imminent, at that point in time. So, obviously, we had to take care of our 50,000 citizens, and I asked our Armed Forces: Exactly what resources do we have to take care of our people? I was told that, at the time, we had one C-130 transport aircraft. “How many people can this accommodate?” “Sir, about one hundred per flight.” “Fifty-thousand, divided by one hundred, okay. [Laughter] How long will it take, the flight?” They said, Four hours. “That’s four hours to? [“Yes, sir”] And four hours back? [“Yes, sir.”] And about an hour or two to refuel, to load the passengers, et cetera et cetera.” So you had a ten-hour window to bring in a hundred people each time. “Okay, how about ships?” “Sir, we have a ship.” “How many can it accommodate?” “Sir, we have a thousand-capacity ship.” “How long will it take?” “Ten days.” I didn’t bother to ask. [Laughter.] I didn’t bother to ask if it was ten days to, and ten days from. [Laughter] Because I didn’t want to be depressed. [Laughter] Anyway, perhaps, through your prayers, we were enlightened. [Coughs] Excuse me, Dr. Ona, our Secretary of Health, keeps on reminding me that I have to take a vacation. Perhaps this is God’s message to me that, yes, you are entitled to at least two days a year. [Laughter] You might think that I’m complaining about the job. But I guess I just really want to impart to you, the lightest way possible, that there are difficult burdens in this particular job, especially when you do not want to be just taking your turn in the merry-go-round that leads nowhere—but when you want to lead the people towards their rightful place in the sun, and be part of transformative change. [Applause] When I look—and I am 53 right now, but I tend to look at my life, or I reflect on my life, and I reflect on, shall we say, the depths that we had gone to. For instance, let me talk, just briefly, about martial law. My father was imprisoned—I think he was number one on the order of battle—he was imprisoned for seven years and seven months. A person whose main joy in life is talking with people, interacting with people, was, for the largest time—perhaps, for at least five or six years—confined, in solitary confinement, deprived of most contact with other people. My father was considered to be the presidential candidate for the scheduled elections in 1973—and we all know he never got that chance. So from the depths of acclaim, of fame, and of power—or, sorry, from the “heights,” rather—we were brought down to the depths of, a lot of times, being tempted to despair. My mother would be walking on a city sidewalk, would see one of their friends who swore undying loyalty, and this friend would suddenly decide to cross the street to avoid contact with my mother, lest they be labeled subversive. Our household—I had my yaya—the person who took care of me, who was no longer an employee, got arrested three times, was never charged, was incarcerated for the last time while she was six months pregnant, together with her husband, who also was no longer in our employ. Their only crime: being members of our household staff, who were being tasked and pressured to testify falsely against my father. We went to Boston. Texas first, then Boston, for my father’s exile after he was granted permission to have a heart bypass. In Boston, there were so many movements that we were—we had to pause and be reflective. And I asked a perpetual question: why, if we are doing that which is right, why are we the ones exiled, while the ones who we believe are doing wrong are partying non-stop in Manila? Where is the justice in that? And, through my mother’s incumbency—somehow you miss the days when you were in the opposition, when you could do no right, because there were so many critics of my mother. There were 28 newspapers, for instance, in Metro Manila tasting newly-won-back press freedom, who went excessive—who felt was better to complain and criticize than to praise for the good things that you did. And I had to ask: Why is it that the right that is being done seems to be so invisible? I’m reminded that just a few days ago, I was talking to a very senior member of our media, and I was telling her about something I keep talking about: Tourism numbers in our country and the employment figures. And to be honest with you, in our correspondence through SMS or through text messages, it seemed like it was the first time this media personality ever heard of these facts. And I said: “You are the ones who are supposed to disseminate this, and you don’t know it. My, my, my.” We really are in a difficult position of not having our message come across. Well, anyway, the bottomline, I guess, my friends, is this—and, I’m sorry, I have to tell you another story, and this will be the last one before we go into the prayer. I don’t want to wear out my welcome. [Laughter] When I was a congressman, and my staff had a traditional complaint come election time; they kept saying: “Sir, why is it that all of these barangay captains during the period in between elections are taken cared of so well? We address all of their concerns. But come election time, some of them turn into people who seem to have developed amnesia. That we have to prove once again our rightfulness for being in this position. It seems they have forgotten everything that they have passed our way and we have resolved.” And I told them, in this manner—I answered them, rather, in this manner: “Do you remember So-and-So?” And they said, “Yes.” “When do you see him?” “Come campaigning period.” “When do you see him next?” “The next campaign period.” “Does he ever bother us for anything?” They said, “No.” Well, I guess, that’s the balance in the world. If you have people who never recognize the good that you do, there are those who constantly support you, nourish you, strengthen you, without asking for anything in return—like Bishop Jonel Milan and the Reverend Doctor Tan-Chi, and Bishop Tendero. [Applause] So therefore, if we are prepared to accept the good that people do to us, then it is but necessary—or, by definition and also part of the equation, that evil has to come our way. And there is a lot of evil in this world. There are those who have chosen to be myopic, who will only focus on the negatives and will never entertain the possibility of any positives. There are those who find, unfortunately, happiness in bringing everybody down instead of trying to lift everybody up. But through all of this there has been one constant, and I agree: Prayer is indeed a very, very efficient weapon, a very, very efficient tool, and really, the source of our strength. When at the end of the day, it seems that the burdens seem insurmountable—for instance, when we were talking about employment, we were saying we generated, at the least, 860,000 new jobs per year. And then we are also cognizant of the fact that there is an estimated 1 million new entrants into the labor pool every year. So we are still trying to match those numbers. We are still trying to reform the education system. But I’m digressing. The bottom line is this: Whenever any of my Cabinet, members of the staff, allies come to me and unburden themselves and say, “This seems such an impossible job,” I tell them: “At the end of the day, so long as you can face yourself in the mirror and say you have done everything you did, then that is enough.” I’ll have to quote Cardinal Sin, when he once said, “Do what you can, and leave the rest to God.” The bottomline is: I think that is the only thing that we can ask of those who would want to serve us. Be honest when you say that I really did and tried my best, and God will provide the rest. I agree totally with that statement. [Applause] So, I was also asked to deliver a short prayer. I normally pray by myself [Laughter], and normally towards the end of the day. So if I am not as proficient as the two able gentlemen in front of us, you will please excuse me. But please join me in this very short prayer. Dear God, You are our Father and we thank You for our family, for our friends, for our steadfast supporters, like Bishop Jonel Milan and, of course, Dr. Tan-Chi, Bishop Tendero. Through them we feel Your love and the constancy of Your support. We admit that we are not perfect. We ask for your wisdom as we endeavor to, daily, make Your Kingdom apparent in this world. Lastly, we ask that You shield us from our enemies, as we endeavor to do Your work. Amen. Thank you, and good day.
Posted on: Mon, 15 Jul 2013 11:56:36 +0000
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