Pride in the Name of Love

“I believe that truth has only one face: that of a violent contradiction” (George Bataille)

Forget about the swine flu, people can’t seem to shake off the Pacman-flu. Not only is he being hailed unanimously as the best fighter boxing has ever produced, some analysts are evaluating his worth beyond his boxing turf.

Muhammad Ali’s legend was not merely carved by his valor as a boxer. He became larger than life when he raised his fist against racial discrimination, championing the cause of the colored people. He lent his voice of sobriety and reason against the Vietnam War.

Manny Pacquiao’s value to his generation is tied up to the sense of national pride he inspires. Filipinos around the globe are inveigled to hold their heads up high. This is months after some of our countrymen took offense over a satirical comment typecasting us a “nation of servants”. If we cannot take a statistical fact with a pound of dignity, there is no way we can sustain a sense of national pride.

I give credit to the Pacman for waving the flag but there is danger in anchoring our sense of identity to one person making big bucks knocking the daylight out of his opponents. We need to caution ourselves that our sense of identity is not embodied in a person – it should evolve through our history of struggle against colonialism; our cultural revival on the road to independence; and our collective mission to build a nation. In the process of nation-building, it is hoped that we will also be able to define our identity as a people.

But we are a new nation. We have to be lenient with ourselves if we are still dazed and confused about who we are and what we want to become. It comes as no surprise – the misplaced anger at being labeled as “a nation of servants.” Why does the comment sting? It’s because we cannot look at ourselves in the mirror without disliking what we see.

Personally, I don’t mind being called a servant. I will wear it as a badge of honor. Besides, as Christians, are we not cajoled to lead a life of service? Do we want to be cast as bullies rather than underdogs? That’s the simplest I could put it.

Would we rather, like the US, want to be immortalized as mass murderers, greedy imperialists, evil exploiters of other people’s resources, and at the end of the day, ask farcically why we are so much hated? The hubris and the attendant guilt of being a universally recognized oppressor is a heavier burden, believe me.

Apparently, there’s so much pain to go through before developing national pride. It will take some time before we acquire a kick-ass attitude as a people. I mean, if we had the right sense of national pride, we would have not dignified that article written by that Hongkong columnist -so what is it to you? Bugger off! Being onion-skinned and worse, demanding an apology with the stubbornness of a mule made a pathetic caricature of us. You do not beg for respect, you claim it.

It is our tragedy to be a colony of the US at the turn of the 20th century. Before the Stockholm syndrome was discovered, we were already afflicted by it. We became smitten with our colonial masters, not wanting to break off ties, desiring to be adopted by them. We were rape victims too willing to spread our legs for our rapists.

There are Filipinos who think the world of America, who think America is the world. There are Filipinos who want to surrender our much-fought independence to become “little brown brothers” to Uncle Sam. I don’t exactly blame them. I blame our lack of national identity and pride.

Other colonized people recognize the truth of their colonial past better than us. They do not kowtow to their colonial masters or bow their heads in thanksgiving as we Filipinos love to do. The writer Jamaica Kincaid encapsulates it all for me: “Even if I really came from people who were living like monkeys in trees, it was better to be that than what happened to me, what I became after I met you”.

That is national pride, bebe.