I just came back from Manila yesterday and I immediately switched on my computer the moment I got home and scanned for the news. Apparently, the reports about the "news blackout" on the case of Ces Drilon, Jimmy Encarnacion and Angelo Valderama caught my attention. Not because Drilon was a media figure although I would have to say her reputation has grown to grander proportions. It's because her recent ordeal gives us more than what meets the eye.
What makes Drilon's case worth the attention is that she and her crew were not only "kidnapped" or "seized" perhaps by the infamous Abu Sayyaf or some other armed group in Maimbung, Sulu. Equally significant is that they, too, landed on the headlines—specifically internet headlines, and I suspect televisions and print headlines in the next few hours—that they have been living and breathing for a large fraction of their lives. They did so—by accident or by incident, no one really knows at least for now—by virtue of their very profession.
But of course, it's axiomatic to say that events that are news worthy, however deeply gruesome or minutely glorifying they may be, are really worthy to be broadcasted, or printed precisely because of their oddity, or rarity, or relevance—oftentimes three things of referring to the same thing. If it's as odd and rare and relevant as the price of gas going down, now that's news worthy. Yet more than that, when news reporters become the news, now that truly is news. News in the classical definition of the term: a dog bites a man, that is not news; a man bites a dog, that is news.
It is one of life's ironies to be the script of the story you've written. It's quite another when the height and hype of that irony is pumped to more heights and hypes.
I say this because ABS-CBN, and even the Palace, sought media's restraint on reporting the kidnapping of Drilon and her crew, quite much like a news embargo, if not one which is entirely so. House Speaker Prospero Nograles even called for a news blackout on the plight of the media personnel. As we are told, all the reasons given point to the idea of protecting Drilon and her crew while facts were being unearthed. That abides by the idea of not sending the wrong impression, or of suppressing any impression at all. It seeks to not pushing the captors to the point of agitation, or of becoming ballistic enough to rip the crew in flesh and bones and hang them, literally and figuratively, with the ropes of fear and terror, turning them into hapless and hopeless prey in an unfamiliar territory riddled with armed predators.
Simply put: with less talk, or less publicity, comes less danger, or less infuriation. Well, what can I say? It's one of the exceedingly rare moments when the media outfits are called upon to suspend their role as public informers while three of their brothers and sisters in the industry are in the arms of hostile men known for being butchers.
I don't know exactly what these people in the government and in the media have in mind, but like I've always believed, these members of the Abu Sayyaf, or any armed cabals of terror in the South are not only armed with weapons. These loose bandits, too, are armed with wits, if wit is not weapon enough to have given them the endurance to weather the barrage of bullets through the years. They are not only armed with literal weapons, they are also armed with figurative ones, having been able to spoil the ominous downfall of the rest of their kind as predicted by the soothsayers in the military. Which goes without saying that the battle, or confrontation, is no longer physical; it has become ideological, or intellectual at the very least, if not one which has been so all along. You really don't get to the bottom of all these by simply extinguishing bodies by the bullets. But that's another story, and that I leave to the ideologues to expand on.
Quite interestingly, even media outfits are caught in the debate on whether or not the request of ABS-CBN to media outlets to "hold the story" should have been granted in the first place. Vergel Santos is saying that ABS-CBN's action "was actually an attempt to manage the news" and that the media "should not have heeded the request." Luis Teodoro disagrees and says that the company has the right to "protect its own reporters" and that Drilon's case is yet to gain "public interest, at least for now." But any way you look at it, it is enough to say that the plight of Drilon and the rest has its ironies.
For one, Drilon resisted the security offered by the military before entering the den of the terrorists. There's a reason there that, perhaps, only Drilon knows and can explain better, although it's tempting to say that it may have something to do with lack of trust, or with the very reason why she had to trouble herself of venturing into hostile land. She perfectly knew the harm that could most probably come their way, and I suspect she could easily see that with half an eye, but she continued physically unprotected. Which is ironic because she's been with the military and the Abu Sayyaf in separate occasions for a number of times already, which is enough to compel her to call upon the hand of God or of man to stand by her side half of the way.
But some say the circumstance that the "missing" folks now have is a win-win plot: they get to have an insider scoop into the heart of the renegades while the renegades get free publicity. There's even a theory linking the government with the abduction. But I leave the reader's imagination to go into those depths.
Two is that Octavio Dinampo, a professor and MNLF senior Shura member who convenes the Bantay Ceasefire, was also kidnapped, which is ironic in the sense that he's been entangled in the mesh and mess he's been trying to mediate. It may not be a sufficient premise to say that even the messenger gets to be shoved into dire circumstances at some point, but Dinampo would have expected the day that he will soon be skimmed and fried in his own fat long before somebody else could tell him. That is so especially in a country where mitigation through mediation has rarely succeeded entirely.
And three, the media which has sworn to protect the public by informing us in many ways is now the same media, or a portion of it, which has sought to withhold information about Ces Drilon and others while the rest of us grope in the darkness. It's the same issue that has stirred a mild storm among the members of the media themselves, which is patent enough in a democracy divided in both flesh and substance. Some say it's a matter of balancing public interest with private interest—public interest being the public as it is, and private interest being the family, corporate and genetic, of Drilon and her crew—in cases where the delicate balance between life and death or harm is as thin as impoverished limbs.
But as the rage and patience, and impatience, over the predicament of Ces Drilon and the rest continue to gain momentum or the lack thereof, obstructing the push of water in the pipe won't stop the pressure that comes with it. It will only gather more force to push back until it jettisons like water on a ravaging damn. Public interest can't be any mightier than that.
What makes Drilon's case worth the attention is that she and her crew were not only "kidnapped" or "seized" perhaps by the infamous Abu Sayyaf or some other armed group in Maimbung, Sulu. Equally significant is that they, too, landed on the headlines—specifically internet headlines, and I suspect televisions and print headlines in the next few hours—that they have been living and breathing for a large fraction of their lives. They did so—by accident or by incident, no one really knows at least for now—by virtue of their very profession.
But of course, it's axiomatic to say that events that are news worthy, however deeply gruesome or minutely glorifying they may be, are really worthy to be broadcasted, or printed precisely because of their oddity, or rarity, or relevance—oftentimes three things of referring to the same thing. If it's as odd and rare and relevant as the price of gas going down, now that's news worthy. Yet more than that, when news reporters become the news, now that truly is news. News in the classical definition of the term: a dog bites a man, that is not news; a man bites a dog, that is news.
It is one of life's ironies to be the script of the story you've written. It's quite another when the height and hype of that irony is pumped to more heights and hypes.
I say this because ABS-CBN, and even the Palace, sought media's restraint on reporting the kidnapping of Drilon and her crew, quite much like a news embargo, if not one which is entirely so. House Speaker Prospero Nograles even called for a news blackout on the plight of the media personnel. As we are told, all the reasons given point to the idea of protecting Drilon and her crew while facts were being unearthed. That abides by the idea of not sending the wrong impression, or of suppressing any impression at all. It seeks to not pushing the captors to the point of agitation, or of becoming ballistic enough to rip the crew in flesh and bones and hang them, literally and figuratively, with the ropes of fear and terror, turning them into hapless and hopeless prey in an unfamiliar territory riddled with armed predators.
Simply put: with less talk, or less publicity, comes less danger, or less infuriation. Well, what can I say? It's one of the exceedingly rare moments when the media outfits are called upon to suspend their role as public informers while three of their brothers and sisters in the industry are in the arms of hostile men known for being butchers.
I don't know exactly what these people in the government and in the media have in mind, but like I've always believed, these members of the Abu Sayyaf, or any armed cabals of terror in the South are not only armed with weapons. These loose bandits, too, are armed with wits, if wit is not weapon enough to have given them the endurance to weather the barrage of bullets through the years. They are not only armed with literal weapons, they are also armed with figurative ones, having been able to spoil the ominous downfall of the rest of their kind as predicted by the soothsayers in the military. Which goes without saying that the battle, or confrontation, is no longer physical; it has become ideological, or intellectual at the very least, if not one which has been so all along. You really don't get to the bottom of all these by simply extinguishing bodies by the bullets. But that's another story, and that I leave to the ideologues to expand on.
Quite interestingly, even media outfits are caught in the debate on whether or not the request of ABS-CBN to media outlets to "hold the story" should have been granted in the first place. Vergel Santos is saying that ABS-CBN's action "was actually an attempt to manage the news" and that the media "should not have heeded the request." Luis Teodoro disagrees and says that the company has the right to "protect its own reporters" and that Drilon's case is yet to gain "public interest, at least for now." But any way you look at it, it is enough to say that the plight of Drilon and the rest has its ironies.
For one, Drilon resisted the security offered by the military before entering the den of the terrorists. There's a reason there that, perhaps, only Drilon knows and can explain better, although it's tempting to say that it may have something to do with lack of trust, or with the very reason why she had to trouble herself of venturing into hostile land. She perfectly knew the harm that could most probably come their way, and I suspect she could easily see that with half an eye, but she continued physically unprotected. Which is ironic because she's been with the military and the Abu Sayyaf in separate occasions for a number of times already, which is enough to compel her to call upon the hand of God or of man to stand by her side half of the way.
But some say the circumstance that the "missing" folks now have is a win-win plot: they get to have an insider scoop into the heart of the renegades while the renegades get free publicity. There's even a theory linking the government with the abduction. But I leave the reader's imagination to go into those depths.
Two is that Octavio Dinampo, a professor and MNLF senior Shura member who convenes the Bantay Ceasefire, was also kidnapped, which is ironic in the sense that he's been entangled in the mesh and mess he's been trying to mediate. It may not be a sufficient premise to say that even the messenger gets to be shoved into dire circumstances at some point, but Dinampo would have expected the day that he will soon be skimmed and fried in his own fat long before somebody else could tell him. That is so especially in a country where mitigation through mediation has rarely succeeded entirely.
And three, the media which has sworn to protect the public by informing us in many ways is now the same media, or a portion of it, which has sought to withhold information about Ces Drilon and others while the rest of us grope in the darkness. It's the same issue that has stirred a mild storm among the members of the media themselves, which is patent enough in a democracy divided in both flesh and substance. Some say it's a matter of balancing public interest with private interest—public interest being the public as it is, and private interest being the family, corporate and genetic, of Drilon and her crew—in cases where the delicate balance between life and death or harm is as thin as impoverished limbs.
But as the rage and patience, and impatience, over the predicament of Ces Drilon and the rest continue to gain momentum or the lack thereof, obstructing the push of water in the pipe won't stop the pressure that comes with it. It will only gather more force to push back until it jettisons like water on a ravaging damn. Public interest can't be any mightier than that.
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