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The earthy wisdom of the Philippines’ cabbies

Their wisdom derives perhaps from their patterns of work that offers a great opportunity to observe people, listen to stories, and reflect on issues.

They spend long hours, sometimes idly when there are few passengers, listening to news and commentary on the radio. They navigate the tortuous highways of the Manila — typically locked in traffic jam — that could well be a metaphor as well for life in debt-strapped, poverty-stricken Philippines.

One day weeks ago, a wise taxi driver gave me a useful lesson on how to read through the political crisis that is buffeting the administration of President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

That morning, a military intelligence agent was in the news. Opposition leaders had brought the agent to a seminary, supposedly to protect him from administration people who might cause him harm. The agent, who was supposedly part of the team responsible for wiretapping the cellphone conversations the President had with a senior election official, had agreed early on to testify for the opposition, and supposedly for a fat fee, that Mrs Arroyo was the woman caught on the tape.

All too suddenly, the agent turned his back on his promised testimony. He had reportedly sent a text message to his wife hours earlier, claiming that he was being held against his will by the priests in the seminary. The agent’s wife and kids were later shown to the Press, in the custody of the military.

The event of the day was not lost on my wise taxi driver. He said he had not a shred of doubt that the agent’s change of heart was prompted by his concern for the safety of his wife and kids. The taxi driver said he reckons that in the agent’s story, the hand of the Office of the President is clearly seen, ever so boldly.

"This government is being run like a mafia," the taxi driver told me. His theory: government agents might have been sent to snatch away the wife and kids of the agent, to prompt the latter to withdraw from his pact with the political opposition. "That is how vice gangs operate," the taxi driver remarked, relentless in his critique of the Arroyo administration.

From the agent’s story, the taxi driver jumped next to his verdict on the President’s husband, First Gentleman Mike Arroyo. He had given Mr Arroyo long and serious thought, the taxi driver said, adding that in fact he was a religious man who reads the scriptures almost every night. Mr Arroyo, he said, was the singular reason why the Philippines is in crisis. "You see, he is not a positive force at all, and I know this from the Bible," the taxi driver said.

In his book, Arroyo’s husband could well be the prophesied 666 in the New Testament. How so? The taxi driver said he had studied and counted well: the First Gentleman’s full name — Miguel Tuason Arroyo — corresponds to three number 6.

Call it raw, native wisdom, it is wisdom just the same. The most politically astute Filipinos include not only the lettered and moneyed but also "the great unwashed" and the poorly lettered. The good thing about a political crisis is it opens up new and more platforms for discourse across all levels of income, age, gender, faith, and education.

That is, including taxi drivers who give passengers political analysis for extra service, as well as students and workers who chat, blog, or move mail and text messages to pass around jokes and news and rumour about the latest on the crisis.

In truth, with the crisis dragging on for nine weeks now, Filipinos have only themselves, friends and family members to rely on for wise counsel on what we can do to move closer to solution.

This week begins the hearings on the impeachment complaint that 41 lawmakers have filed against Arroyo with the House of Representatives. The hearings could stretch on for weeks at the committee on justice, until the political opposition musters 38 more votes to hit the magic 79 figure — or the number of lawmakers who must endorse the complaint so that it files past the House and moves on to the Senate for impeachment trial of the president.

For her part, Arroyo continues to push for amendments to the Constitution, to enact a shift from the presidential to the parliamentary system of government. Her critics and allies agree that the proposal, a false solution to the crisis, would take time and attention away from the impeachment complaint, and earn for Arroyo some breathing time. In the meantime, a parade of witnesses continues to hog the headlines. Variably, they have testified on the alleged involvement of the president’s husband and son in an illegal numbers game, on money from a gambling lord that was offered as alleged bribe to election officials in support of the president, and other related stories.

Last week, however, three witnesses of the opposition separately recanted their testimonies, and invariably apologised to the President. One by one, the opposition’s whistleblowers are being blown away. Despite these serious reversals, the opposition and the administration could only offer casual missives. The opposition says the witnesses might have recanted after they were offered money and more under Mrs Arroyo’s witness prevention programme. The President’s spokesman, also in jest, says the opposition will just have to shut up or shut down their "Witness Academy of the Philippines."

I wonder what wise counsel the taxi driver could offer now.

Malou Mangahas is a Manila based journalist