BY JESS DUREZA
BEING ready to make apologies, admit mistakes or say “I’m sorry” are traits that show humility and good character. It also re-affirms human vulnerability and remorse.
In some instances, it can be a badge of good faith. Or a false facade of un-contrite double speak.
For instance, a priest in Cebu had to humbly apologize for giving a tongue lashing to an unwed teenaged mother during the baptismal of her baby that went viral in the Internet. Even the Redemptorist Order where he belonged also profusely apologized separately.
I remember with luscious fascination how former US President Clinton expressed his own apologies for the Monica Lewinsky under-the-table oral sex scandal that violated the hallowed chambers of the White House. Heads of states usually apologize for war crimes committed as acts of national atonement. I just read about a contrite erring official in Japan who publicly wept and resigned for abusing taxpayers’ money.
ATENEO APOLOGY
Recently, the Jesuits of Ateneo de Manila had to issue a clarification and a public apology for having invited former First Lady Imelda Marcos, one of the early big benefactors of an Ateneo scholarship program.
The Jesuits were evidently trying to “save face” by expressing belated guilty feelings of impropriety only after their photos went viral. The Jesuit apology somehow eased the critics and some self-proclaimed “do gooders”. But by so doing, the Ateneo hosts unduly dishonored their own invited “honored guest”.
Although clearly judgmental, the apology was well taken. That reminds me of another Jesuit. When he was asked to make a judgmental statement on gay marriages, he merely said: “Who are we to judge?” He happens to be His Holiness, Pope Francis.
PGMA’S ‘I AM SORRY’
I have an unforgettable story about another public apology.
I was working then in Malacañang when then President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo was facing a crisis situation due to the “Hello Garci” tapes. She was agonizing on how to show she was sincerely contrite about the phone call that admittedly was a mistake and “inappropriate”. She was also evidently trying to save her government to keep it afloat and prevent a collapse.
In one Cabinet meeting I attended, President Arroyo left the room to allow her Cabinet members to discuss freely, without her presence, the implications of saying “sorry”. The Cabinet was heavily split.
There were those who felt that the nation deserved a spontaneous and contrite admission of improper conduct from the President no less who was caught in a bugged telephone conversation with Commission on Elections commissioner Garcillano asking about her one million votes lead in the polls.
I remember PGMA’s favorite ladies in the Cabinet, Secretaries Dinky Soliman (Social Welfare) and Ging Deles (Peace Process) arguing that nothing less than a contrite admission from the president herself would suffice to show remorse and “heal the nation”.
However, there were others who strongly felt that there was nothing illegal in the phone call although conceding that it was indeed a serious lapse of good judgment.
They further argued that for the President herself to apologize and say “I’m sorry” would demean the presidency and could trigger an irreversible slide of the people’s trust and seriously undermine her government.
Somehow, there were airing of opposing views but there was no clear consensus. One early morning, I woke up surprised on seeing the nationwide telecast of President Arroyo, with downcast eyes and a contrite demeanor telling the whole nation in evidently rehearsed way: “I am sorry”.
Some colleagues in the Cabinet, in hushed tones, believed that Secretaries Dinky and Ging seemed to have influenced greatly the President’s decision.
Ironically, in the later days ahead, when the going went rough for the presidency as an aftermath of that presidential apology and other issues hounding the Arroyo administration, the two ladies, joined by Secretary Butch Abad and seven others (famously called the Hyatt 10) were the first ones to “jump ship” and abandon the President.
They resigned irrevocably en masse ostensibly as an expression of indignation and their public avowal of their seeming collective sense of propriety, although with obvious expectations that the staged Cabinet hemorrhage would lead to the collapse of the Arroyo government.
Of course, to their “boss” the President who entrusted to them their high positions of honor and confidence and who took their advice to heart, it was simply an act of betrayal. The rest, as I always say, is history./PN