Speech
of
His Excellency Fidel V. Ramos
President of the Philippines
At the Annual Gridiron Night of the National Press Club of the Philippines

[Delivered at the Manila Hotel, April 22, 1996]

The laughter
of our people

THERE ARE A FEW unpleasant appointments that I have to keep once a year. Two of them are my visits to (1) my doctor and (2) my dentist for my annual checkup which, as many of you senior citizens know to the marrow of your bones, are never a laughing matter.

But this annual Gridiron Night of the National Press Club (NPC) is not one of them—for I do look forward to exchanging a few blows without being castigated the following day by the media—for one day out of the year, anyway.

I am told that the price of a dinner tonight is P1,500—the same as during the past three Gridirons, which means that prices are stable under the Ramos Administration.

All-amateur night

Tonight’s Gridiron is even more entertaining than those of previous years. The NPC has decided to go all-amateur this time—which means that the jokes and the brickbats are less professional and therefore more laughable. This I attribute to NPC president Fred Lobo, who will be remembered as the senior Malacañang journalist who tried always to be funny but was successful only 9 percent of the time—single digit and still declining, just like the inflation rate.

It was when his exit questions at our weekly Malacañang press conferences were becoming more and more irrelevant that I considered a trade with the National Press Club. I pirated into my Cabinet Celo Lagmay, who had been president of the NTC for six long years—some swear it was six long decades. And you of the NPC in turn got Fred Lobo as president. I am not so sure who got the raw end of the deal. Anyway the Malacañang press corps now has the best of both worlds, even if Ellen Tordesillas does not think so.

A democratic Gridiron

Still and all, this has been a grand evening. I noticed that when you were not roasting me, you were democratically throwing barbs and arrows at other public figures—including those from “Labas” (“Lakas” na, may “Laban” pa). To think that some public servants still get paid with taxpayers’ money for their negative efforts is something that merits a congressional investigation. Let us hope that their sense of humor has not also been impaired.

But our part in this affair is to play the good sport—which biblically is to offer the other cheek after the other has been battered thoroughly. I thought all the actors tonight were hilarious in their sheer amateurism, but they must be given a triple A for effort, effect and humor.

In fact, I consider the script as professional as the scripted scenarios the Presidential Management Staff prepares for our out-of-town Cabinet meetings. Roman Floresca was as good in impersonating the president as Erap Estrada. He had the cigar properly angled in his mouth. I now put him (Romy Floresca) on the list of Presidential wannabes who merit my endorsement in 1998.

And then we have had a lot of fun watching all the journalist actors muff their lines and dance steps. If deskmen and reporters can commit lapses in grammar and spelling in their news stories, they surely have a right to commit the equivalent on stage.

Beyond highlighting each other’s shortcomings wittingly or unwittingly, however, the Gridiron is supposed to signify something pregnant and profound—and that is the unique and necessary relationship between the press and government in a democracy like ours. The relationship sometimes seems unendurable or inconceivable or unbearable, but as in a good marriage, after we work through its ups and downs, we realize that there are many blessings.

One blessing surely is the fact that it tests the patience and humility of power. We who are entrusted with power—in government and in the media—need to be constantly reminded that we are just its temporary custodians—for the price of not knowing each other’s limits is high, both for the people and for the nation.

A turbulent marriage

Another is that the very turbulence of marriage—the constant nagging, the heckling and the occasional quarrel—provides the situation of finding ways to formulate policies that best serve the public interest. Sometimes the press is right; sometimes the government is; and sometimes we are both wrong. Eventually, the push and pull of our relationship shows us what is right.

On a previous Gridiron roast I had quoted and I quote again now A. J. Liebling, who maintained: “Freedom of the press belongs to the man who owns one.” How profound indeed was his observation but I keep running into some newspaper owners who say that they cannot even get their own newspapers to say what they believe in—even in the editorials.

To all and sundry, the lesson is plain. You do not control the press by silencing it any more than you control a man you have silenced. Sooner or later, the cracks will appear.

The better way, as I have come to believe from my 50 years in public life, is to engage the press in dialogue and in friendly exchange while trying to do one’s best by the people and the nation. You take in many punches this way, but you will surely also score points for as long as things are done fairly well.

Sometimes amid the crucible of this and many other Gridiron nights, I have fantasized what a joy it would be if we in Government could also stage our version of a gridiron— with you in the media as the punching bag.

Our show would also have an all-amateur cast, heralded by senior amateurs like the Senate President, the Speaker of the House, the Presidential wannabes, the leaders of business, the leaders of NGOs and people’s organizations and, of course, the First Lady and myself.

We will invite members of the press, TV and radio as our main audience, and we will have a special table reserved for NPC President Lobo, his fellow officers of the National Press Club, and the owners, publishers and officers of newspapers and the broadcast networks.

Reward in Heaven

In the skit, enterprising reporters and deskmen will present press releases and advertisements as legitimate news, without the readers knowing any better.

Neither will the readers see the difference between a broadsheet and a tabloid, because both are peddling sensational news. It’s strictly a matter of size.

In one skit, an editorial conference is taking place. The publisher tells his staff that they should always look for stories that depict the exploitation of people. When a deskman reminds the publisher that they too need an overdue raise themselves, the publisher answers that their reward will be in Heaven.

Then we will have a skit about what it takes to be a columnist. An applicant does not have to be bright or write well. He or she only has to have the desire to write and have plenty of opinions that do not have to be consistent. He or she can even hire a ghost to write the column for him or her.

The possibilities for making fun of the media are endless. We can imagine a situation where the Comelec annuls the results of the annual NPC elections because of vote-padding and vote-buying.

All in all, I think we will have fun presenting our version of Gridiron Night. We expect the press to be present and not to take us seriously. Admission will be cheap. At only P15,000 per table including the E-VAT, just like tonight.

But of course this could only be a fantasy in the Philippines. In some countries this would not be fantasy but unfortunate reality. We thank our people and the good Lord that it is not so with us.

Servants of the people

Government and journalism need this kind of Gridiron give-and-take because it is through criticism that we walk the straight and narrow path toward fulfilling our respective roles in society. Looking at each other eyeball to eyeball, we see the many obstacles along the way, but we also see our work laid out more clearly.

In the last analysis, we are all servants of our people. It is they who will insist that public officials do what is right, and that journalists and the media present them with the news in as straight and objective a manner as possible. It is the people who will reform us into becoming better public servants and better journalists.

For now, let us be grateful for this evening of fun and laughter. It has been said by a number of foreign observers that one of the most remarkable things about us Filipinos is our gift of laughter—even during wakes. We—young and old, rich and poor—smile and laugh all the time, even when we are surrounded by so many vicissitudes.

I say to them, this is our unique blessing as a people. Were it otherwise, the Philippines would have fallen apart a long time ago. It is because of this gift of humor and laughter that we get up every morning and go about the cares of life—despite all the things we read in the newspapers and see and hear on TV and the radio, and despite occasional bungling by government.

At the Philippine National Police Academy, a well-known adage is prominently displayed. It reads: “The average citizen expects the police officer to have the wisdom of Solomon, the courage of David, the strength of Samson, the patience of Job, the leadership of Moses, the faith of Daniel, the diplomacy of Lincoln, the tolerance of the carpenter of Nazareth, the kindness of the Good Samaritan and finally an intimate knowledge of every branch of natural, biological and social science.”

This expectation should apply to all public servants, high and low, including the President—and also to media practitioners, veterans and cubs.