Call me old-fashioned

He was a top Filipino executive at a preeminent multinational company, attending the group’s managerial training program for the best of the best from their different territories around the globe. During discussions, one executive of a foreign country attending this elite program talked about what he saw in the park: Filipina OFWs during their day off. He must have seen them laid back, happy and laughing, even seemingly contented despite their unglamorous occupation and difficult circumstances.

What is surprisingly amazing is not what he had observed as the ability of these Filipinos to laugh despite their misery, but his conclusion from left field that he articulated to the group. He said: “Filipinos have no dreams.” The top Filipino executive in attendance was asked for a response, and even given time to prepare. With some reservations, and feeling at first that he was not as articulate, he stood before the class to deliver his reply. He said: “It is not true that Filipinos have no dreams. My mother is a public school teacher. And I am my mother’s biggest dream.”

His touching reply resonates well as it is timeless. Sometime in 2008, a most uncalled-for racist remark was made by a Hong Kong journalist when he said the Philippines is a country of servants. A number of sympathetic foreigners came to the country’s aid and put in their own positive views about Filipinos. One of them wrote online that wherever strange country he is in—when he is dining, for instance, and he learns that the person serving him is a Filipino, he feels he is in good hands, and that his evening will be all right.

In our own way in our firm, we tried to gather those persons coming to the aid of Filipinos. It was then, in 2009, that we conceptualized capturing from the minds of the top CEOs of the country how the Philippines kept its head above water despite crisis. The video and book were called “Philippine Resiliency: A Gem Uncovered.” It earned an Asian Publishing Award in 2010.

It was in that project that I first heard Philippine CEOs refer to our OFWs as the “global Filipino.” Of the throngs who work abroad as house staff, ship crew, construction worker, gardeners, hotel cleaners, and similar service-oriented jobs, one CEO commented that one important value brings them all abroad: Filipinos are willing to sacrifice to send their children to school. So that their children can have a future better than the life their parents lived.

If one of the Philippines’ economic pillars is the remittances from OFWs, a huge chunk of that comes from overseas Filipino professionals. They excel outside. Foreign employers can’t stop their accolades about them. They are as good as the best talents internationally. To state the obvious, their talents were developed in, and their education and training were acquired from, the Philippines. If they are world class, then the Philippines must be world class. But this is not necessarily the right logic.

On a Sunday, we can afford to be open about a general observation that not only do Filipinos abroad excel, they also tend to behave better. In other countries, they follow queues even if they revolt inside because they still hate lines. They do not throw litter on the street despite getting so used to doing that in the Philippines. They follow traffic rules and don’t cut in the lanes of other vehicles. They simply become good “citizens” of the foreign country they work or reside in. Puwede naman palang ganoon.

Before we got to this stage today, of being referred to by some as the next tiger of Asia, we were referred to as Asia’s sick man. When I was a newly admitted partner of the firm in 1998, a Singaporean client asked me: “What happened to you?” He was referring to the Philippines, the country that during the 1970s, Singapore really admired, according to him. Back then, they came here to see our new infrastructure, and the quality of our educational system. They tried to learn from us, my client said. But boy, was there a complete turnaround.

After Lee Kuan Yew suffered his biggest heartache and frustration after the failure of the merger of Singapore with Malaysia in 1965, he shed tears on national television and vowed to transform Singapore by implementing discipline among its people. They were not shy about their long-term mantra, which was to be “world class”. In just two decades, Singapore was transformed into a true global city, which even looks like a giant modern garden.

We need to be unashamed about copying Singapore. And if you like local comparables, we only need to look at the volunteerism that rebuilt Subic, and the leadership that transformed Davao. You can say Singapore was a benign dictatorship, and to some extent you can say that for Davao. One thing can’t be denied, though: the people in those places follow rules and are supportive. Those places are more progressive and attract more investors, and government service there is better.

Picking on Davao, and purely based on the merits, people there say the reason why they follow rules is that rules get implemented. Indeed, if people violate rules and get away with it, that is the best incentive for anyone to follow suit because there are no consequences. The reason law enforcers in Davao are not bribable, according to residents, is that the law enforcers fear the citizens would tell on them to the mayor. And the mayor will take action. Despite imperfections, there is really no excuse for the national and local governments to not take a serious look at the best practices of Singapore, or locally, Davao and Subic, on how to succeed in instilling discipline on a population not out of fear but out of common aspiration. If our mission becomes simply “to be a world class country,” it doesn’t matter if we only copied that so long as we are dedicated in executing that mantra. It is still what we need, given the irreversible tide of the new world order, and a single Asean market.

Having countrymen abroad who are world class is indeed a source of pride. Some work for their individual success, some work for the comfort of the families they leave behind. I must admit, I never had the courage to do it. Sure, I did studies abroad, tons of global training, but I could never get myself to accept the thought of working, much less settling, outside the Philippines. I fear admiring skyscrapers and clean rivers and at that moment not have the people I love at my side to share the joy with. Besides, if any place deserves me, it has to be my country. I would rather advocate here values on respect for the individual, integrity in our dealings, and excelling on things we do, big or small. I may not be the “global” Filipino, but it is enough for me to give humble contributions to making our home a global country. This is my biggest dream. For my children, for my children’s children. Call me old-fashioned, but call me Filipino.