‘How much must BongBong and Sara be held to account for the sins of their fathers?’
ON the eve of my father’s death anniversary, I am moved to wonder what, if any, we’re my father’s sins, and should I as his son have to bear them like a cross?
My father was not a strict observer of religions (Catholic) rites or traditions. For one thing, he was born and baptized an Aglipayan, as his mother’s side (the Villarins of Paete, Laguna) were, and remain so to this day. He only converted to Roman Catholicism at age 27 or 28, so he could marry my mother, who had a Catholic upbringing, even attending high school at the very Catholic Holy Ghost College (now called Holy Spirit), prior to entering the godless UP to take up nursing.
But while my father never strictly observed rites such as having to go to Sunday service, and kept to his room whoever my mom would host the Marian rosary prayers which we shared with our UP campus neighbors, I am not sure that my father had that many sins, being a simple man that was not enticed by the commercialism and the rat race that often push men to test the boundaries of their abilities — and their morality. Maybe his only sin might be failing certain students in physiology, the course he taught at the College of Medicine, or maybe not being of much help to a relative or close friend whose son or daughter was an applicant for admission at the time when he chaired the admissions committee of the college.
I think my father tried to do his job during situations like these with a blindfold on.
Other than that, I doubt if my dad had any major sins that those he “wronged” can pin on me. But assuming he did have some, how much of those sins should I be held to account for?
Let’s say my father chose not to be a UP professor but a government official. Let’s say in the course of his career he had amassed considerable wealth because, well, “some are smarter than others.” And, of course, I as his son benefited from that – let’s say I was able to go to expensive schools here and abroad, take great vacations in places as diverse as Istanbul and Iloilo, growing up with anything and everything I ever needed. And let’s say he died leaving behind a fortune none of his forebears had ever been able to accumulate in the last 50 years.
How much responsibility should I bear for all that?
I ask this question because we must ask ourselves the same as a matter of principle, now that not one but maybe two children of former (and present) leaders may seek higher office. How much must BongBong and Sara be held to account for the sins of their fathers?
I also ask this question because I sense that for many of us this question only matters selectively. I do not think the Filipino people ever held to account those who collaborated with the Japanese during their brief but harsh occupation, much less holding to account their children. Is it a matter of “severity of the sin”? And collaboration with the enemy during the wartime occupation is a far less severe sin than the Marcos years or the Duterte years?
Is it the thievery? Of all the cases filed against the Marcoses how many have prospered?
Two, as far as I know: one is the judgment in the US in favor of human rights victims for which a payout has been made, and the second of the conviction of former First Lady Imelda Marcos which is now on appeal.
How much of these cases must be laid at the feet of a son?
I do not expect that we will ever have an objective and dispassionate discussion about the principle involved here because for a certain segment of our population – those who grew up during the tumultuous 60s all the way to the mid-1980s — is very difficult not to be subjective and passionate about the Marcoses.
But we have to try. Because a great reason why we have never gotten far as a society is our inability to put our passions in their right place. Remember that the image of justice is a lady blindfolded. In a country of passionate people, not being able to keep that blindfold on has been one of our greatest weaknesses.
